omgg what about kook trio where rafe and reader are sleeping and rafe is laying on her chests and top and kalce walk in and keep making fun of him all dayy. i need<3333
truthfully, rafe hadn't been feeling well all day. he was hungover from last night, because you seemingly become a drain for alcohol, drinking endless amounts and only getting drunker and drunker. when you smile up at him and offer him another shot, he finds it hard to refuse.
"c'mon, rafe, stop being such a pussy and just take it with me. ugh," you yell over the music, shoving the drink into his hand. it's harder still to refuse after that.
so he wakes up hungover. you're up beside him, having slept in his bed at tannyhill like you always do after they have a party. the light's pouring into his bedroom, and you look like an angel, dressed in one of his old frat shirts.
"rise and shine," you chirp, stretching your arms and showing him a glimpse of pink panties that are making his head pound even more. "rafe? get up."
"shut up," he mumbles, turning around to look away from you before his dick gets hard. "get the curtains. m'head hurts."
"aww," you purr, getting closer to rafe, resting your head back on the pillow. you stroke rafe's hair for a second, hand hovering with hesitation before going back to do it again. it feels too intimate between friends, even friends like you and rafe.
he groans against his pillow, and you let your hand fall back.
"come on rafe.. we'll go get greasy bacon and pancakes. it'll fix you right up. good as gold, right?" you say, mimicking the phrase he always uses.
with some convincing, you get rafe up and at the dinner. you text top and kelce to come too, but you don't know where they went off to—you really never keep track, always busy with rafe the morning after.
when you make it back to tannyhill after breakfast—or rather lunch—rafe is still complaining about his headache.
"you need water and-"
"what i need is for you to stop yappin'. woke me up for this shit. those eggs sucked."
"i thought they were fine. you're just cranky, rafe you need a nap and an advil-"
"m'not napping, not a child. jus' let me go lay down."
"whatever you say," you chirp back. "you big baby."
"shut your mouth before i shut it for you." he goes and lays down on the couch, while you get a cup of water for him and sit by rafe's head. you run your fingers through his hair, not as worried this time.
"mm. keep doin' that." he mumbles back, eyes shutting. you hold back a laugh, curling up to get more comfortable, bringing rafe's head into your lap.
you don't know when you fell asleep—just remember stretching your legs and getting pulled into rafe's warm grip. you're not even hungover, but it was hard to pull away when rafe had an arm across your stomach and the other inside your shirt—his shirt—with a hand on your back. rafe's head is now on your chest, nestled comfortably on your boobs. he's snoring, which means he's really tired.
you wake up to the sound of snickering. your eyes open for a second to take in kelce and top laughing, phone out and taking a picture of you and rafe.
"guys," you whisper, not wanting to wake up rafe. "don't laugh. he was hungover."
"so if i get hungover, i can feel you up too?"
"shut up," rafe mumbles against your chest. "fuck off. let us sleep." they shuffle away, still laughing.
"you know they're never gonna let this go, right?"
"don't care. you shut up too. m'sleeping. this is nice." you smile.
"yeah. it is."
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HI SUZUU! Hope you’re doing well :3 Could we have a Soft!Dom Scara with a reader after a really tiring day? Where he would stuff reader with so much cum her stomach was practically bulging :3 With overstimulation and bondage if you please 🙏 Hope I made sense and HAVE A NICE DAYY
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Bondage. Overstimulation. Multiple creampie. Degrading praise. Soft!Dom Scaramouche.
It made perfect sense ❤️
Delicate, tied up, and helpless. That was how Scaramouche liked you best, especially when he was tired. Tired enough that he thought he would fall asleep if he blinked too long.
You'd been in the same cycle with him for what felt like hours. Even though your wrists were bound above your head, knotted securely to the headboard, he still found a way to hold you down so he could fuck deeper inside of you. Once he reduced you to a whimpering, moaning mess while he pumped you full of cum, he would pull out and finger any cum back inside of you.
Scaramouche scoffed softly hearing you whimper in overstimulation as his fingers skated over your swollen clit. "You just be a good girl. Relax and take what I give you," His thumb circled over your clit, the stimulation sending your thigh quaking as you grinded into his fingers.
You were twice as pliable overstimulated. It delighted him the way you twitch in anticipation of his every touch.
You could tell Scaramouche was tired. You could tell it in the way he grunted and moaned in your ear, his face buried in your neck to try and muffle him as he grinded and rubbed his cock on your puffy pussy. In the way his teeth hastily bit bite marks into your neck. "Good girl," His tongue flicked over the shell of your ear, "Be nice and still," He groaned as he pushed his cock back inside of you, "A perfect, pliable slut," He gently applied extra pressure on a blossoming bite mark to remind you of your place, bottoming out with a muffled groan into your neck.
You writhed a little from the dull ache of overstimulation, your hips jerking up into his as his cock nudged your sweet spot. Being overstimulated, it felt magnified. "I'll be a good girl, I promise," His degrading praise made you blush, and your gummy walls clamp tight on his cock.
Scaramouche's heart fluttered hearing how endearing you sounded. Sitting up, he put a hand on the back of your head, capturing your lips in a dominant kiss of appreciation for your total submission. His cock pulsed from how quick and obedient your mouth was opening for his tongue.
Being as tired as he was, Scaramouche wasn't thinking all that much. He'd tied you up so he wouldn't have to think. Just chase the feeling of filling the pocket of cum in your belly in a little fuller. You weakly hooked a leg over his hip. Even though you were struggling to keep up with his mindless cycle, you were still wanting to take of him.
"Be a good girl, and cream on my cock," There was a hint of softness in his command, his teeth nipping at your lower lip as he pulled away from the kiss. His hand dipped down between your legs and found your clit.
Each pinch and rub made a louder moan or whimper keen from your throat. His helping along ushered in your orgasm, your wrists straining in the silk ties as you shook. Scaramouche's body shuddered as your walls squeezed around his cock.
His thrusts turned sloppy for a moment, lost in the dizzying pleasure of his cock pulsing cum for uptenth time inside of you. He let out a soft whimper of his own hearing how sweet you sounded, mewling as you felt every pulse and rub of his cock as he angled it up deep inside of you.
His cum dripped from your hole, a shy blush on your cheeks as you felt the pocket of cum expand a little. He spent the longest time, lazily thrusting into you as he chased his high. He knew he was going to sleep like a rock having bred you this thoroughly.
Pulling out of you, he gently gripped your chin. "One more round, okay?" He felt weaker for you seeing the submissive way you turned your cheek into his hand as you nodded.
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Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!
What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)
But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...
(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)
-🍰
Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst
Word Count - 3.1k
A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.
And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”.
How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.
The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?
Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.
To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.
But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.
“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch.
Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.
“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person.
“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure.
“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s.
The two shake on it, and the bet is made.
But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you.
And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.
For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.
Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.
< … >
“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair.
You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.
“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”
Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.
“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.
“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest.
“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.”
You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him.
“Yes please!”
< … >
“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.
Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.
“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.”
“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses.
“So then why the sudden comment?”
“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.
He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you?
Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.
“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true.
“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms.
He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him.
“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.
“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.
“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.
He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face.
“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.
“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.
Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.
“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball.
“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.
“Sure it won’t.”
< … >
Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you?
READ
Satoru?
READ
I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here!
DELIVERED
Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.
You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.
Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste.
< … >
“Sato—“
You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.
“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.
Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.
“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.
“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now.
“Tired?”
“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.
You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves.
Had he felt that way about you the whole time?
“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.
“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.
Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.
Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.
"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.
"We're fucked."
< ... >
"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--"
"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.
She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window.
Not that there was much respect there in the first place.
"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.
"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)."
You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.
You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you?
"Hey."
You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.
She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.
"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.
"Can we stay in instead?"
Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.
"Yeah, of course we can."
< ... >
"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.
He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.
Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.
"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.
"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage.
Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out?
"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?"
"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.
"I don't--"
"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.
His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.
She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.
"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up.
< ... >
Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.
In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.
"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--"
You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.
And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.
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