#berries🍓

[nanamiskentos]

(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

[taegimood]

subby gamer nerd soobin whining while you suck him off under the desk,,

he’s not allowed to cum until he wins butttt he can’t exactly focus on the game while you’re down there

BERRIE YOU BETTER BE CAREFUL WITH WHAT YOU UNLEASH FROM WITHIN ME GRRRRRR SNARL SNARL BARK GRRRRR

you’re feeling bored and mischievous and horny so what better way to entertain yourself than to torture your hot loser boyfriend ??

he’s glued to his gaming chair going up against beomgyu (you can tell from the screams on the other end of his headset) and he already knows EXACTLY what you’re up to when you slide yourself under his desk poor soob this ain’t the first time this has happened eyes widening as he quickly mutes his mic and goes “b-baby please, n-not-“ but he’s choking on his words the second your hand starts sliding up his jittery thigh and he knows that that’s it, he’s done for.

“lift your hips.” you order, and he swallows hard as his eyes flicker down to you nervously, but he obeys anyway as you slide his sweatpants and boxers down, lowering yourself dangerously close to his hardening cock.

“baby-“

“you can’t cum until you win for me, soobin.”

he groans, whether out of frustration or arousal or both; you’re taking your sweet time teasing your fingertips along his inner thigh and soobin knows there’s no escape when you finally slide your hand around his cock and squeeze.

he whimpers, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he idles frozen over his keyboard, cheeks red and gaze flitting between you and the screen, beomgyu calling out to him confusedly through the muted headset.

you smirk as this gives you an idea.

“mic on, baby. don’t want gyu getting suspicious or anything, hm?”

he gapes at you, eyes widening. “what?! n-no! i-i can’t, he’s gonna-“

“mic. on.”

he swallows hard. his eyes are glued to you, cock fully hard now in your hand, his breath staggering at your commanding tone.

wordlessly he reaches up and presses the button.

“good boy,” you whisper.

soobin is already melting.

“now keep playing, hm? remember what i told you?”

he nods quickly, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you and back to the screen, stammering out a rushed apology to beomgyu with some lame excuse that his friend definitely would’ve caught on to if he only cared enough, and you smirk to yourself as you start to pump your hand up and down.

you’re impressed by your boyfriend’s resolve over the next few minutes, but unfortunately for him, that just isn’t your goal today.

soobin inhales sharply when your warm lips close around his tip.

he clears his throat, leg bouncing nervously, and as you take him deeper you can tell how desperately he’s already trying to hold back.

the next 15 minutes are agonizing for soobin as you suck and stroke him to the edge and back, over and over again, his gasps and moans played off as frustration over the game that he cannot get himself to fucking win, his concentration breaking the further he falls apart under your touch.

“soobin hyung!!! what is wrong with you? why are you being so weird right now??”

you giggle at the sound of beomgyu’s complaints.

“i mean i know that i’m better than you in every possible way, but you normally put up more of a fight than this.“

“j-just- just shut up and l-lose already.”

soobin’s face is flushed, breathing labored, abdomen clenched tight as he grits his teeth, eyes pleading as the filthy wet sounds you’re causing fill his room and god, hopefully NOT beomgyu’s.

his throbbing cock is covered in your spit and his own pre-cum as he tips his head back against the chair, jaw going slack as you suddenly deepthroat him - his thighs tensing up as you pull off just as quickly when you think he’s too close for your liking.

he groans out in frustration, fingers slamming down on the keys with a new vigor as the next round starts, and beomgyu’s cackling remark of “you sound like you’re fighting for your fucking life,” couldn’t be closer to the truth as your boyfriend lets out something between a gasp and a moan at the speed that you suddenly start pumping him with.

this time you don’t stop, your hands and your mouth working him all at once, his hips bucking and twitching in his seat and breath coming out in short, aching gasps -

“fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- FUCK!!!! YES!!!! FINALLY!!!!”

you’re momentarily shocked at the sudden outburst, beomgyu’s protests and the game’s chiming “you win!” quickly swept into the background as you’re suddenly being pulled up and tossed onto soobin’s bed before you can even blink.

his lips desperately find yours in an instant, clothes coming off in record time, and he’s moaning before he’s even touched you as he lines himself up with your already-soaked entrance - “please, please, please, need it so bad, need to come, fuck-“

“fuck me, baby. you earned it.”

without a moment’s hesitation he’s thrusting into you desperately, moaning and whimpering in relief, face buried in your neck as he fucks you into the mattress and through his own orgasm, still hard as he keeps going, so overstimulated but he just can’t bring himself to stop.

and of course neither of you pay any attention to the game’s background music still carrying on; and of course, neither of you pay any attention to the fact that in soobin’s lust-clouded rush, he forgot to end the call with his best friend, and beomgyu’s shock morphs to guilt before it turns quickly into something else.

laying back in his gaming chair desperately getting himself off to the sound of his best friend fucking his girl wasn’t a position that beomgyu ever thought he’d find himself in — but it’s a secret that he swears he’s gonna take to the grave.

…or is it?

[berriblossom]

Oh, Great Divine!

☆| It's time for a SAGAU, more so a comforting one. Reader's gender is ambiguous and gender neutral, archons adore reader, in this sense the Nahida tag is platonic!|

☆ Tags/warnings! | Socially Aware Genshin AU, archons and people of Teyvat treat the reader as a god or heavenly figure, religious references (cathedral of Mondstat and Narukami/ Sangonomiya Shrines of Inazuma) some minor lore for reader, Reader is referred to as "Their Grace" or "My/Your Grace" and "The Great Divine" ALL PORTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL!! anyway, enjoy.|

Within the lands or nations of Teyvat, for centuries the practice of worshipping an Archon was beyond common, more so for those who wish not to believe in spiritual practices concerning the gods of each element are more on the rare side to find. However even if such existed, there was one thing to never be doubted within the lands of Teyvat.

The Great Divine's presence over mortals and immortals alike.

The creation of Teyvat in many national mythos credits the sole ideas and creation to the Great Divine. Even the archons and the sources of their celestial names were blessed upon them by their divine grace. Depending on which nation you visit, some may say that their archon is specifically blessed by their grace.

In Mondstat, the nation of wind, song, freedom, wine, and bard's ballads, once every 100 years they celebrate the freedom blessed to them by Barbatos and the Great Divine. A tradition stretching for the last millennial to show the love and deeply routed affection given by its people and archon. Yes, Barbatos, or now the "drunken" bard known as Venti among his people. Every festival of a "New Eve" as they call it, is another 100 years for him to show his affection for his beloved divine. Despite his defiance to Celestia and the natural order placed after your departure, he still fully believes in your care and love for humans and archons alike. To Venti, whispering to the wind like he did with you thousands of years prior, even in his wind-spirit form. You'd sit together where now the great tree at Windrise and speak about the future of Teyvat, something despite having the authority over you simply spoke to him as:

"For what will come, Your nation will prosper and learn the true meaning of freedom and song..."

So to this day, he sits under that tree and thinks of the years since, missing your warmth from curling up in your hands as a wind spirit to laughing and humming beside you in his divine form. He has seen it for the last few hundred years, the art, songs, plays, books, and even food and weapons made in your name, and every hundred years he repeats the same. A small prayer from his soul is whispered into the wind as he tells his deep care and love for his dear grace. And the people of Mondstat no different, all gather at the great Cathedral and warmly sing about the Great Divine and Lord Barbatos as they place to wine, food, and gifts at the altar of your image. When alone Venti will sneak in and sit under your statue, missing the warmth of your hands but relishing the love in your image.

In Liyue, the nation of Geo, contracts, and the adepti, the greats divines are influenced by the first contract Rex Lapis made with them over 7000 years ago, even before Liyue was a fully combined nation. Zhongli remembers the conversation you two had, sharing a simple game of wit and tea. Then he was immature to your influence and power but now he relishes in it. Proudly in his vast historical knowledge, preaching his love and the power the great divine holds. How you could shape the sea with a flick of your wrist, how you've created mountains from your fingertips, how your vast knowledge is spread throughout teyvat as a bible to be studied and read over and over again. But mostly what he and all of Liyue celebrate is the contractable care and affection you give him and the people of Liyue.

This time around Liyue is a time spent every hundred of years a new eve of dawn as it is called, one Zhongli and his fellow adepti never get tired of. A time to give gifts of care to neighbors, friends, and even coworkers in the busy harbor. Even the Northland Bank celebrates by lowering interest on loans!

(But only for this amount of time and by the next New Eve of Dawn the Interest WILL reset)

But mainly it is a way to give worship to the Great Divine and their trust in Rex Lapis and his Adepti to protect and serve Liyue. Everything Zhongli has done was for your gratitude and divine love. So when a New Eve comes, he sits anywhere in Liyue, the mountains, hills, somewhere to overlook the harbor, and enjoys a warm cup of tea. Your favorite while imagining your smile as you talk, the games you'd two play. He watches his disciples and Apeti celebrate with gifts, food, and songs at your altar set around Liyue. He sips his tea and awaits your fated return, happy to share more memories and stories with you.

Within the land of Eternity, formerly transcience, Inazuma's style of celebration differs slightly from some nations. The Grand Narukami Shrine would hold a private ceremony, cleansing the sacred Sakura tree and your statue underneath, barhing the precious stone engravings with crisp clean water. Meanwhile the people if Inazuma would be celebrating on their own occasions, firewroks light into the clear sky, dancing ceremonies at the teahouse fill with guest.

However, the new electro archon herself sits alone at the top of Tebshukaku. Quietly walking down memeory lane in her mind. For the last five centuries of the New Eve of Dawn celebration, she'd sit in her space of Euthymia alone in solitude quietly sulking at the idea of your everlasting figure. How her and Makoto would chat down the lane of inazuma speaking about plans of you, speaking of your visions of the nation of electro, Makoto laughing at how embarrassed Ei used to be around you and your divinity. Now Ei smiles solemnly..

She knows now that she as archon must take the mantle, for in your teachings that it the goal of the heavenly principles you've left. Fated to return, she prays that you'd come to her first. She dreams and imagines in her meditations within her quiet Euthymia that you'd hold her. That her loneliness would be cured indefinitely. But for now she waits, with a plate of dango and some ofdly colored tea, shit eats alone as the fireworks set off atop Narukami island, she whispers a promise to herself and her nation on your honor.

"For it will be fate...my grace...you shall return to us...to eternity...we shall be reunited."

Far off in the lands of eternity, however, the island that formed the resistance sings and dances around the bonfire, the resistance army of Sangonomiya and Watatsumi laugh as they praise the late OmiKami, or the serpent god Orobashi. The fire dances as troops tell stories, shrine maidens sing and laugh, and her priestess sits while holding a book. She smiles softly. Kokomi looks above at the horizon and sees the corpse of their late god, she wishes silently to herself and for her ancestors to below the sea. That once the great spirit of life and forefather of the vishaps would return to bring life to the benevolent serpent. But for now, she sits alongside Gorou as they watch the troops enjoy the holiday.

Within Sumeru, however, and alongside it, Fontaine...the New Eve of Dawn has been on the academic calendar differently, which is how some older nations react. For those in the rainforest, it is a blessing of Lessor Lords Kusanali's birth. For the dessert, it is the bringing of a new promise for the scarlet sand kings doubted return. Within the nation of dendro, it is a holiday of now academic activities, no scholars shrouded in work, but a day off. The people worship by their own will and sit in taverns, bars, and cafes to drink mereily while chatting with friends. Some visit your altar within the Akademiya, and others pray at home.

Nahida sits on a branch of the great tree that houses the knowledge many wish to obtain, in her hands an ancient seed of fate, she herself has no memory or knowledge of where it came but holds ot and teasures its existence. For she has a kindling that it is tied to this divine spirit that is expected to awaken. From her small conversation with Apep, the seed is treasured. Hence, she holds it and feeds the growing plant bits of dendro elemental energy. She sighs as she watches the sun set and the cheers from the streets and grand bazars performances. Nilou must be dancing now, she thinks. She hums a small song while kicking her feet, her hands warm with caution. She may not know you yet, but she knows already... Your spirit and divine will watch for her and her nation. The goddess of wisdom has many questions for the great creator of this world, but for now, she just hums and sits happily, a great birthday gift indeed.

Meanwhile, in Fontaine, similarly, it is deemed a weekend off of work. Many go home, some go to the Opera to catch performances of the holiday, others read tabloids of the steambird that some random person in the court has the great divine in their basment all along. All fiction truthfully. Furina reads her book as she makes another plate of pasta macaroni. For the occasion, she bought extra special ragau to taste amazing. She dances around her kitchen listening to soft music. For years her mind would have doubted and even hated this day, anxious fears of disappointment and disapproval looks from her days as stabding archon. Would you have hated her? Did you think she failed fontaine and you? Was her a cursed human taking title of archon an insult to you? Furina had nightmares even of the prohecy and your return to see fontaine gone and underwater. But now, as the prophecy and fontaine were safe and out of fear, she ate and asked a good question this new century.

"What kind of pasta would their grace like..."

Soft rainfall drops onto the steps of the Palais Mermonia, the evening rain was forcasfed but welcomed, Neuvillette wrote on the papers softly, agreeing to a few celebratory events the Opera wanted to hold. Usually Lady Furina would be jumping for the task but here he was. Dread builded in his soul. This time of year brought many pains to Neuvillette.

A new century meant a new set of hundreds of years he gets to oulive humans, melusines maybe, but also the clock inches closer and closer to your return. Neuvillette spent early years of his lofe researching and discovering his species and kind for decades. Figuring that if you are the forefather and creator of vishaps and the sovereignty. Why was so many things done the way they were? Why ddi the power the gnosis and archons hold come from them? Why can't he understand your implications, even such his ancestors didn't wish to think against? What power do you hold and how did aid Fontaine in the end? He knew Focalor and Egeria spoke to you, even asking for forgiveness before your departure, so why? Neuvillette, places his pen downs and stands to look out the window of his office to look down at the streets of the Court of Fontaine, a glass of crisp water swirls in his hand. He sips slowly and sighs, coming to think.

"In this new century...please with it, may you come along too my grace."

In the nation of fire, victory, war and passion, raors could be heard from the stadium of flames as people of different tribes shouted and cheered the competitions down below. Surfing races, climbing achievements, conbat bouts, even break dancing competitions held. Mavuika sits at her throne above as her people cheer and celebrate, raising glasses, foods, gifts, and money even in your image. She slips away from the fesitivites to be alone in the speakers chambers, past the sacred flame, and into her personal get-away. Now empty, she stares at the famous wheel of the sun, Natlan has held for centuries, the same you blessed the first pyro archon with, as their rules of ruilibg were left in your favor. She smiles as she too holds her head high, similar to her ancestors before her.

She remebers before she was even archon, how her parents would tell stories of the Great divines influence, love, and power. That the spirit of victory belongs to the pyro archon yes, but the strength was given by you as well. She remembered your fave engraved in ancients temples and stones around Natlan and now some statues around the lands too. She knows too well her nation is blessed by your, not only for the peoples cheers and vitcories but the long-lasting stay they've had against the threat of the abyss thus far. Maybe when you return and ward off the abyssal threats for good, she top could ask something of you...for that she won't know until she sees you herself.

"Until we meet my grace...may your memeory burn eternal.. and your power live within my people."

-> Did i go overboard, yes...but eh...hoped you enjoy, and also i may make a small series out of this..who knows..

[strawbeaniie]

I thought it'd be really fun to make these simple user boxes for people to label their s/i /oc and their f/o's pronouns if they wanted to whenever they upload art :D!! I have some color variations for anyone who needs them as well!

Feel Free to use! Credit is not necessary, but rebloging so people can have easier access to 'em would be appreciated

I'm also open to suggestions for other themes and stuff that I may have missed!

pr✕ship + variants dni..

[Other Variations: Blue - Orange - Pink - Purple - Red]

He/Him

He/They

She/Her

She/They

They/Them

They/It

It/Its

[seungfl0wer]

Boyfriend texts with MinHo? (:

-Berry🍓

*Random Boyfriend Texts W/ Minho*

-🩵

Thank you for requesting I really loved doing these ones!

💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[qrrieterisunnq]

Flour Prank - Jack Hughes

strawberry girl masterlist

JACK!HUGHES X AMARA!JAMES — WARNINGS: nothing just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: Amara pretends that the bowl she uses is stuck on the counter, and she calls Jack to help her. Only for him to end up covered up in flour when he picks it up. — WORD COUNT: 0,8K PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

“Oh my gosh,” Amara giggles as she carefully fills the bowl with flour, scooping it in with way more precision than she usually manages. “He’s so gonna kill me after this.”

She’s already buzzing with energy, her brain practically racing through the logistics—camera angle, flour placement, timing, Jack’s reaction. It’s chaotic, but in her head it all makes sense. Her thoughts jump ahead, imagining the poof of flour, the look on Jack’s face, and the sound of Luke wheezing from the living room.

She peeks around the corner—Jack’s still zoned in on the game, eyes locked on the screen, one leg hanging off the couch like he’s melted into it. Luke is on the other end, flipping through something on his phone, earbuds in one ear.

Perfect.

Amara tiptoes back into the kitchen, snatching her phone from the charger and fumbling with the camera app. “Okay, okay, okay,” she mutters to herself, setting it up behind another bowl. “Angle’s good. Lighting…eh, whatever. This is gold either way.”

She’s still adjusting the placement when she hears someone come up behind her. She jumps, nearly knocking over the bowl. “Luke!”

He raises an eyebrow, finishing a bite of apple. “Why do you look like you’re about to commit a felony?”

“Because I am,” she whispers with a wild grin. “Okay, okay, listen—don’t distract me. I have one shot at this.”

Luke laughs. “That’s exactly what someone says before it all goes wrong.”

Amara waves her hands dramatically. “Focus! I filled this bowl with flour and I’m gonna tell Jack it’s stuck to the counter. When he picks it up—poof. Instant snowstorm. I’m talking flour bomb level chaos.”

Luke stares at her, chewing slowly. “You planned all this?”

She shrugs, bouncing on her toes. “It just came to me like, five minutes ago. I was supposed to be making cookies but then the bowl made this little suction noise and I thought, ‘what if I made it a trap?’ And then flour happened. And now we’re here.”

He laughs. “Classic ADHD spiral, huh?”

She gives him a mock salute. “Hyperfocus activated. Chaos mode: engaged. Are you in or not?”

I’m so in,” Luke says, already invested. “You want me to distract him?”

“Yes. Stall him if you have to. Make him think this is legit.”

Luke shakes his head, still laughing. “Man, he’s never gonna trust you in the kitchen again.”

Amara just grins. “He barely does now.”

Luke heads toward the living room while Amara positions herself near the counter, one hand lightly resting on the edge of the “stuck” bowl and the other ready to play innocent.

“Jack!” Luke calls out. “She says she needs help in the kitchen. Bowl’s stuck or something.”

“What?” Jack yells, not looking away from the screen. “What do you mean stuck?”

“I don’t know, she’s acting like it’s super glued,” Luke says with a snort. “You’re up, man.”

Amara does a quick bounce to shake out the jitters. She can’t help it—her brain’s running a hundred miles a minute and her excitement is hard to contain.

Jack sighs, pausing the game. “You two are exhausting,” he mutters as he walks into the kitchen.

Amara turns toward him, all big eyes and pretend confusion. “Seriously, I don’t know what happened. I think it vacuum-sealed itself or something? I can’t get it to budge.”

Jack eyes the bowl skeptically. “You didn’t glue it, right?”

“Why would I glue it?” she says innocently, barely suppressing her grin.

He steps forward, muttering under his breath. “This better not be another baking experiment gone wrong—”

He lifts the bowl.

POOF.

A full-on flour explosion bursts into the air, coating Jack in a fine white dust from head to toe. It covers his hoodie, his hair, his eyelashes—everything.

Amara’s eyes go wide for half a second before she bursts into laughter. “OH MY GOD. JACK. YOU LOOK LIKE A DUSTED CINNAMON ROLL.”

From the living room, Luke is absolutely howling. “BRO. YOU GOT DOMED.”

Jack doesn’t move. He just blinks slowly, turning his head toward the counter where Amara’s phone is very visibly recording.

“You two planned this.”

Amara is wheezing now, hands on her knees, nearly crying. “I—I can’t breathe. Your face—you looked so betrayed!”

Jack takes one slow step toward her, grabbing a fistful of leftover flour from the counter. “This is war.”

“Jack, no—Jack—JACK!” she squeals, backing away just as he lunges.

Too late. He grabs her, hugging her tightly and smearing flour all over her hair and shirt. She screams, both laughing and trying to escape.

Luke’s doubled over, filming it all. “This is the best day of my life.”

“I’m gonna flour you next,” Jack threatens, lobbing a scoop in Luke’s direction.

Luke dodges and bolts into the kitchen. “Nope, you’re not catching me—Amara started it!”

Amara, still breathless with laughter, wipes flour off her face and yells, “And I regret nothing!”

[berristreasuredlibrary]

Forever With Me

"Does this make me a bad person? Do you think I'm a bad person?"

"I think you're a fucking monster."

"Do you really? Is that by your own free will or what you've been led to believe by other people, my love?"

"Does it matter?"

"To me it does."

Chains rattle as hands raise up, showing off wrists rubbed raw. "It's my free will." A click of teeth, a hand running through messy hair, an annoyed huff. "That's not true. Don't be so cruel to me."

A sharp laugh followed by a scoff, head whipping up to meet crazed eyes. "Cruel?! You've got some balls. You're the one who chained me up."

The cold metal of a blade presses against warm flesh, digging into skin and just barely piercing it, and a low voice beside an ear. "Come on, don't be like that. It's me and you until the end. You're with me. Forever with me, my angel."

[razsberrie]

just fucking shoot me already

[plutos-dying-star]

A 🍓Little🍓 Reminder

🧸 that your regression is there for you

🌙 At the end of the day, it’s you. it’s always been you and no one is allowed to change that. No one can take it away

🧸 they can make snide comments or hurl insults but they can’t forcefully take it because it’s yours and you have the power to defend the inner child that couldn’t

[nadeshikogf]

berry and cherry <3<3<3

[strawberrygrizzlybear]

"Mm... Hey hun... hic!"

Squip stumbles into the cave, their voice slurred and dragged, a bottle of something in their hand.

- @squippydip

"Uh, hi?" She stabilized them with a vine pulling them upright, tilting her head. "Are you.. alright?"

[chlotual]

chlotual -> berrytual

[berriblossom]

Devotion - Childe

☆| Helloooo, another sagau fic! Liking these atm, read warnings below!|

☆| WARNING| male masturbation, semi-smut (not really just tartag jacking off), religious themes, obsessed devotion, reader is reffered to as a holy elder/ ancient god in teyvat AKA "The Great Divine", MDNI, ALL WORK AND CHARACTERS PROTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL! Enjoy yaaay!|

Holy divinity was different for many people. Specifically in his homeland of Snezhnaya, the way the cryo archon and the fatui worshipped the elder god of this land, was through trials of hardship and sacrifice. Not by human life but more so in spirit. Tartaglia remembers before he fell into the abyss, he remembers how his parents would take him to the capital of the nation as people handed out hot mule, carts of candies, soups, and strict coupons from the Northland Bank as a way to get more people into debt. Ah sweet times he remembers, but specifically the core of this memory and why he wanted to grow strong in the first place was the military parade, led under the first Fatui Harbinger, Capitano, or the Captain.

How the soldiers and men under such an esteemed figure, followed his order, chanting prayers of absolute dedication and power given to her lady the Tsaritsa and the Great Divine. How they held onto their weapons and raised them in the air, promising victory in their journey, for they won't falter in this promise, and how this promise to their benevolent gods was a sign of pure devotion and strength. As a young boy watching this with eyes of life and joy, Ajax made a promise to himself that day at the small celebration, that he too would lay his life for not only the cryo archon but now his devoted and beloved Divine diety.

Ajax entered the now vacant temple hall. At the moment he had returned to his homeland for a banquet held by the Regretor for the honor of bringing home another gnosis in the name of the Cryo archon. However, he left the party early, a rare sign for the youngest harbinger. Usually, some would suspect the adrenaline-driven young man to be bursting with energy at large gathering and times to show of himself. But unlike an actual party, Fatui Banquets aren't about celebration, but rather politics and money. Something despite his position wasn't something he felt interest in. Just for him to be reminded of the greed and personal gain each of his fellow members had for themselves, so silently he left. Ajax sat on a temple pew, your frosted statue standing at the top of the hall, sat atop a small stage with a chair beside it, representing the Tsaritsa as she would sit or stand beside you in glory at your fated return to Teyvat. Ajax sat on the step underneath your statue, the air was cold, his breath coming in small pants, cheeks blushed as the usual bite of the cold nibbled on his features. But his eyes remained on your statue, focused and unchanging.

Silently, Ajax wondered what the feeling your benevolent gaze had on him. He remembered that even his master, Skirk mentioned casually that despite your benevolence to humankind, you were in fact a being of havoc and destruction, it was that you chose to keep humans, mortals, and immortals out of said fury, and wrath out of your kindness. Hearing that at a young age, made Ajax double his promise to you, that he would lay his life for you, even fight for you. Hell if needed he would betray his fellow harbingers for you and the cryo archon, without a split second to rethink the decision. Even as he travels for work and missions handed to him by the Tsaritsa, he carries a small page of scripture for you, words from thousands of years ago spoken that still ring in his mind when he feels unsettled or disturbed and needs your guidance and love.

"For human life and soul is the building block of all things in this world, without it, I am nothing, and as nothing, I shall depend on the love my humans have created out of nothing to give for me, something. Human love is worth a thousand years in memory and gold."

Ajax no matter what the anxiety, fear, or even boredom that plagues his mind, he daydreams of the day you'd return. How in his wildest fantasies, he'd get to hold you, cherish you, worship you, kiss your feet, and hands, hold the strong hands and fingers that sculpted his entire being and blessed him for the victories in battle he as acquired and carry scars as if they were trophies.

His breathing in the cold temple hall stalls for a moment.

He looks up.

His eyes meet your stone-engraved ones. Closed as a warm smile is printed onto the marble statue, forever frozen in a warming embrace and careful tenderness. Ajax whimpers as he closes his eyes tightly shut, his hands grip into fists against the tile flooring, leaning over as he kneels under your stone gaze. He mumbles quietly.

Ajax's voice echoes as he feels the weight of his words hangs in the empty temple. The world feels like it is silent, for it feels like he is only here with your statue, your presence, your being. Pressure builds in the base of his spine, crawling up his sides like a flame, tingling and burning with passion, burning at his fingertips, the cold leaving a numbing feeling as his other hand stays on the cold tiled floor. The hand from his chest lowers as he swallows hard, his eyes fluttering open and close with each breath, and each touch he leaves, imagining it was you. His voice falters as his pleas grow silent but his soft noises echo louder.

"My grace...by the names given to you...my dear loving god...hear me.." His voice was hoarse as he shivered feeling what felt like warm air hit his clothed back. Covered in the official Fatui coat, Ajax's hands tighten as he releases his fist and lays his fingers flat on the floor, his voice picks up again in the cold room. Light only by a sole candle illuminating your stone-etched face. "My grace, hear my prayers, as your devoted soldier, I want... no need for your blessings, the gifts of life and victory you've given me have warmed my heart, have been so tender...I am grateful....however.."

Ajax sighs and as he feels another wisp of warm air hit his neck, shivering he brings his hand to his chest, flat as his heart beats steadily. "I want more than your power...my fellow harbingers wish for your dominion, wishing to be like the gods you've created and destroyed....I want..your love...your sole love..your divine love only for me...a sin it is to be ready my grace, but I plead..."

With the promise he made set in his heart, Ajax tumbled forward, his chest heaving, as he spilled warmth into his palm, his flesh flushed, heart pounding in his ears, the warm hands he imagined, the sensation was replaced with his rough scarred palm. He looks down at his hand, his face flushed but eerily calm. He sighs and pulls his gloves back on, not caring about the mess as he stands, his coat overhanging on his shoulders.

He bites off his glove, wanting to imagine a new sensation, a warm scarred hand is replaced by his fantasy, a hand he can't recognize but adores. His eyes water as his fantasies grow wild, your voice, he imagines surrounding him, asking him to explain his needs, how he wants you to love him. The hand slides down his toned abdomen, tickling at his ribs and chest, flicks of hydro swirling around his fingers as he whimpers again..

"Please..." His voice gave in, slowly hurling over, the hand he imagined dipped below his belt, tossing away the useless fabric, taking hold of his form, his breath quickens as the pace is slow, "as it should" he thinks in the back of his mind. It shouldn't be rushed...he whispers into his consciousness, it should be slow, careful, tender. With love, he moans into the cold room. The candle flickers in the cold wind, the wisp of warm air against his fingers as they stroke hypnotically, circling around his flesh as he bites down on his lip harshly. Fresh drops of blood drip into his throat, flowing slowly as he swallows some, delusionally believing it could be your blood into him, flowing into him he wishes.

He desperately wants everything of you, all of it. Even if it hurts, even if it killed him. Ajax was prepared for such a price for your love, depraved and unattached, he choked a struggled moan as he felt his body tense, he quickened his pace, his voice speaking in hushed prayer as he used the other hand to press against his neck. His moans begging.

"Please...please...give me it...all of it...my grace..... give-"

He looks at your statue.

A smile creeps onto his face the gloved fingers just used for pleasure, cup your sculpted face. His final whisper relayed before leaving the frozen temple.

"You will be mine...and I yours, my beloved divine and holy god."

☆|Oof, I made him a freakish ngl, anyways I hoped you enjoyed it!

_______________________________________________

[strawbeaniie]

🥕🥚 They’re making you hoppy one smile at a time

-> toy house listing <-

[taegimood]

flashbag

the squee that i squmpt…

i’ve never wanted to LICK all over a man so badly in my life i need to RAVISH him

[qrrieterisunnq]

if you don’t write smut ignore this :)

jack and berrys first time and jack shiny so sweet and soft and making berry feel so beautiful

No More Virgin - Jack Hughes

Thank you for requesting my lovely! It's a bit longer so I hope it doesn't mind And I'm sorry for taking so long and sorry for it being shitty.💖🤣MINORS DNI - 18+ content

PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

strawberry girl masterlist

“I-I’m ready, Jack,” Amara says while she stands in front of her man, nervously fidgeting with her fingers, not daring to look at him. "I uhm, I think I'm ready."

Jack who's sitting on the couch, looks up at her, his eyes wide, but a smirk rests on his lips. He knows what his girl is talking about, but he doesn't expect her to come to him and tell him just like that.

“Why so suddenly?” Jack asks, reaching his hands out for hers to take them.

“I…uhm…I don’t know. Just feel like I’m ready.” She whispers looking at him with doe eyes. Gosh, she’s so fucking beautiful is what runs through his mind.

Jack stands up hovering slightly over her and looking down at her with a smirk. His right hand cups her cheek, tilting her head as he leans down pressing his lips on hers.

He knows he should probably ask her if she’s ready but knowing her and her personality, he doesn’t.

Amara’s arms sneak around his waist, moaning softly in the kiss. Jack chuckles quietly, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs.

“We’re not doing it now,” he whispers in the kiss. “Today, after our game, we won’t go to the club if we win instead we’ll go home and celebrate the win like this.”

“Okay,” she swallows hard, looking into his beautiful eyes. “But you have to shoot at least one goal.” She smirks and giggles when a surprised look washes over his features.

“Well, then I’ll shoot a hattrick.” He mumbles in the kiss with a wide grin. Amara just shakes her head at his cockiness and kisses him again.

Jack is breathing heavily as he and the other Devils make their way into a locker room with wide grins on their lips.

Laughter fills the locker room as the boys start to undress themselves from their gears. Coach walks in and grins at them clapping his hands to get their attention for at least a few minutes.

“You did amazing guys!” he shouts clapping his hands. “Johnny! Defence was amazing keep going like that! The offense wasn’t the best but compared to theirs it was great. And the last thing I want to say before Nico gets the word is,” he trails off looking around the locker room until his eyes land on Jack. “Jack! Congratulations on your first hat trick!” He shouts and the guys cheer and clap their hands with laughter and shouts of Jack’s name.

Nico grins when he stands in front of Jack with their hat trick hat. “You played a hell of a game bro!” Nico sets the hat on Jack’s head with a grin on his lips.

“Thanks, man!” Jack smiles hugging Nico and grinning when the photographer takes a photo of him with the ridiculous big hat.

“Yeah! Now listen to me! We have a few days off which doesn’t mean we won’t have any practice, except for tomorrow. That’s a free day for all of you, enjoy your time with family, celebrate, and do whatever shit you want to do, but the day after tomorrow is two-hour practice at 6 am sharp and then at 8 pm only for an hour.” This is the last thing the coach says before he and the staff leave the locker room leaving all of the guys in there. Jack doesn’t waste any time and he undresses himself and hops in a shower so he doesn’t smell so bad when he comes home to Berry.

With a smile on his lips, he bids goodbye to the guys and gets out of the arena. He waves to the fans on his way out of the garage and drives to his apartment complex. Grin doesn’t leave his lips as he says hi to the lobby man, walks into the elevator, pushes the button of his apartment, and clicks the code on the keyboard, making the elevator move to his apartment.

Amara is impatiently waiting for the door to open and jumping on her place lightly. The door swings open, and Ara throws herself on him peppering his face with kisses while he giggles at the welcome he receives.

“I’m so proud of you Jacky!” she kisses his lips, making him let out a soft moan.

“Thank you,” He whispers and pulls away just to put his bag on the ground and comes back to her pulling her to his chest with hands on her hips. His eyes roam her figure and he lets out a low groan at the sight of her bare legs and his shirt low on her shoulders. “Fuck you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She giggles, soothing her hands over his chest. She clasps his hand in hers and makes her way into their bedroom. Jack closes the doors behind them observing her movements.

He can see how nervous she is but she’s trying to be confident, which makes his heart flutter with pride. “Look at me, baby.” He sighs reaching for her hand and turning her around. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

“And you are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” She blushes lowering her head.

Jack chuckles and leans down to capture her lips with his. His hands go to her hips as he slowly backs her to their bed and slowly lays her down his lips still on hers in a hungry but slow kiss.

He swallows her moans when his hands travel down her torso, brushing the sides of her breasts. Her back is arched slightly at the feeling of his hands on her skin.

“Jack,” she moans throwing her head back with her eyes rolling back. “Fuck.” She cusses and Jack chuckles at her language.

“Am I making my innocent Berry cussing?” he whispers in her ear his lips playing with her ear lobe.

“Yeah.” She says her breaths are heavy and her eyes are fixed on his face. Jack leans down, connecting their lips in a heated kiss, and his hands land under her knees as he urges her to wrap them around his waist.

“You are gorgeous, baby.” A blush appears on Amara’s cheeks from the compliment.

“You too.” She giggles her hands playing with the hem of his shirt.

“You want me to put it off?” he asks, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. Amara bites her lower lip and nods her head. “Then do it.”

Amara looks up at him with wide eyes, but her hands automatically do what he says. Her hands slide under the shirt, caressing his skin before she pulls it over his head, smiling at the view of his bare and toned chest.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the shirt she’s wearing. Amara just nods her shy eyes watching his face carefully. Jack sits on his heels and helps her sit up so he can pull the shirt over her head.

Amara always thought she would be extremely nervous about someone seeing her naked, but with Jack, she feels loved and beautiful like she never felt before.

“Fuck, Berry, you are so fucking gorgeous.” He let out a groan at the sight of her full breasts. With his eyes locked on hers, he lowers his head down to capture her left nipple between his lips, gently nibbling at it.

Amara lets out a surprised gasp that is followed by a loud moan when she feels the pleasure running through her.

“You taste so good,” He mumbles into her skin as his lips move to the other nipple, playing with it for a while. After he has his time with her breasts he moves his kisses down her stomach until they reach her panties. “May I?”

Amata looks deeply into his eyes looking for some type of disgust in them but when she finds none she nods with a small smile her hands nervously playing with his hair.

“Are you sure? I can see how nervous you are.” Concern is in his eyes as he watches her from down there.

“I’m positive, plus I know you’re jerking off in the shower so.” She shrugs giggling at Jack’s surprised and little ashamed expression.

With a chuckle Jack pulls down her panties, observing her beautiful pussy. “Fuck you are so beautiful.” He whispers and his middle finger slides through her folds, which makes Amara moan.

“No,” Amara takes his head in her palms shaking her head when Jack leans down to kiss her pussy. “I’m not really ready for this.”

“Okay,” he smiles at her and turns his head to kiss her palm. “But I can use my fingers, right?”

“Yeah.” her voice is not even above a whisper as she speaks. She shivers when Jack's finger slides across her clit and down to her entrance.

“Relax, it won’t hurt.” With that Jack pushes his middle finger in her, holding a groan in his throat. He looks up at his girl, whose head is thrown back and her mouth is open in ‘o’ shape. His wrist starts moving from itself while his eyes keep glutted on her face.

When a loud moan escapes her lips Jack increases the speed and adds another finger earning yet another loud moan from her. “Does it feel good Berry?” he murmurs his voice hoarse as he watches his girl getting to the edge. Jack groans when she squeezes around him, her tight walls tightening even more around his fingers.

“Yeah.” She shudders out tightening her walls around him again.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Keep squeezing my fingers like that.” He groans leaning down to place his lips on her’s in a soft kiss.

"So fucking beautiful my love." he keeps whispering sweet things in her ear while she moans and squeezes around his thick fingers.

Her orgasm is slowly but intensely shooting through her body as she moans loudly her whole body shaking from the pleasure.

“Gosh, Jacky, what was that?” she looked at him with shock. Jack chuckles kissing her forehead before answering.

“That was your first orgasm my sweet berry,” he says before he pulls his fingers from her and brings them to his mouth groaning at the sweet taste. Amara looks at him with wide eyes catching his wrist. “What baby? I’m just tasting you.” Smirking he leans down, pressing his lips on hers, letting her taste her sweet juices.

She moans at the taste of herself, her hands running down Jack's back. With a smile, Jack pulls away standing up and stripping from his pants taking the boxers all the way down with them. Amara takes in his toned chest and muscles while he stands there with a smirk on his face. She blushes when her eyes land on his big cock.

“You like what you see?” Jack asks teasingly, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it a  few times as Amara watches him.

“Yeah.” She squeaks, her hand clapping around her mouth as Jack giggles. Jack slowly climbs up to her so his face is on the same level as hers. He bends down a presses their lips together in a sweet kiss.

“I know you already said that but are you sure you want this?” he asks her again stroking her cheeks with his thumb. Amara looks at him with a soft smile, her hands cupping his cheeks. She pulls him down pressing her lips to his in a hungry kiss.

“Is this enough for an answer?” she asks him, a smirk on her lips.

“Yeah,” He smiles at her, and his hand trails down her side, until he reaches her knee. He wraps it around his waist, his eyes never leaving her. Amara groans when she feels his cock on her pussy. “I’ll go slowly okay?”

“Okay.” She swallows hard when she feels his cock rubbing against her entrance.

“Relax, baby,” He whispers as he slowly pushes himself into her. Amara shifts under his body and he stills for a second, watching her features. “It’s okay baby, just relax okay?”

Amara nods, breathing in and then out, relaxing her muscles, which allow Jack to slide more into her, stretching her walls. Amara lets out a soft moan at the pain and pleasure mixed together.

“Oh fuck. You feel so great.” Jack groans in Berry’s neck as soon as he’s fully inside her. He can feel her wall tightening around his cock and her fingers scratching his scalp. “Can I move?” he asks pushing himself up on his forearms so he can look her in the eyes.

“Please.” She moans and grinds her hips against his. Jack chuckles and presses his lips against her forehead as he starts moving slowly.

“Fuck.” He groans and squeezes her tight as his hips jerk a little too quickly, earning a loud gasp from Amara.

“Oh my gosh.” She moans kissing his shoulder and squeezing around his cock when he hits the spongy spot.

“Keep squeezing me, baby,” he says as he pounds into her increasing the speed of his thrusts. “Just like that beautiful.” He smashes his lips on her, his tongue making its way into her mouth, fighting with hers for power.

“Jack,” She moans as she feels her another orgasm approaching really fast. “I-I think I’m coming.”

Jack smirks leaning on his right hand, bringing his left one down to her clit rubbing it at a quick pace to bring her to her orgasm. As soon as she finishes, Jack pulls out of her, lying down next to her and pulling her in a hug.

“What about you?” she looks up at him with a confusion written all over her face.

“I’m fine, Berry. Today was about you not about me.” He smiles and kisses her forehead but doesn’t miss when Amara pulls the blanket around her body.