#so without the watch he is still counted
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text



Half alien, half ghost and half dragon
Or as I like to call them: The Greenies đ€Ł
#i mean ben really did have alien dna from his grandmother's side#so without the watch he is still counted#like no offend to randy but these three were MY big three back then#randy came out later and by the time i watched the show#i couldn't get into the humor at all#but i like the arts a lot#green trio#ben tennyson#ben 10#danny fenton#danny phantom#jake long#jake long american dragon#crossover
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
âhey so thereâs been a bunch of exposures recently but weâre gonna have the volunteer party this week bc itâs outdoors so weâll be fine. yeah itâs a bunch of people all talking maskless face to face in relatively close proximity but weâre outside so any transmission would of course be impossibleâ be so fucking for real
#i love this place i love volunteering there. they have air purifiers around the center and tell people in no other words that if theyâre#feeling unwell in the slightest they shouldnât come in. theyâre offering free tests to anyone exposed. theyâre doing so much more than so#many other places and a lot of times itâs a place im able to relax a bit#but im just. exhausted. a week from tomorrow will be the three year anniversary of my dad dying from covid so im already in a bad place#plus covid in general is a trigger for me because. yknow. i watched it slowly strangle the life from my father until he was a grey#breathless husk who couldnât walk three steps or say three words without panting. and that was when we made him go to the hospital#and then the next time he came home it was just his ashes in a bag#but itâs been four years. five if you count the early cases that popped up in 2019. and weâre still dealing with this shit#im just tired of it. im too exhausted to have a full sobbing shaking breakdown so ive gone to the other end of the spectrum and just feel#heavy and hollow. i should probably have a big cry but i donât have the tears or energy#vent tw#im just hoping my n95 and the air purifiers were enough to keep me from contracting it at all. the worry is the n95 couldâve been loose and#sometimes the metal on the nose loosens slightly but the mask was pretty new overall so im hoping it worked to its full capacity and kept#out any covid molecules so that i didnât contract any#only time will tell i suppose. in the mean time#im just praying a lot bc thatâs the only control i have. i will be saying the shema whenever i get too stressed about it
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
One time my mom took me to a hibachi grill with a bunch of her friends and if you've never been to a hibachi grill basically the draw is that theres a bunch of interactive performance stuff done by the cook who cooks for you at your table, and one of the tricks they did at this one was take a squeeze bottle full of liquor and shoot it into your mouth across the table (with permission)
And now at our table my mom explained this because it was my first time going, and she wanted to make sure to warn me it was liquor because she knows I don't drink- she just said "if he offers to shoot at your mouth, say no because it's alcohol".
And so the chef does his thing and it's all very impressive, but the time does come where he pulls out this squeeze bottle of booze and asks me if I wanna try
I of course say no, because I really don't do alcohol, so he moves on to someone else
And I watch, and slowly come to understand that this is some sort of game, because once someone is drinking from the continuous flow the chef starts counting "ONE! TWO! THREE!"
I realize that we're trying to see who can keep drinking the liquor from three feet away without choking or spilling, and its a bummer cause i kinda wanna try and I CAN'T
But he goes around the table with everyone there, and I think my mom makes it to three, one friend makes it to five, I think my brother got to three as well, and he comes back to me
And I'm REALLY bummed out now but I will not drink alcohol, so I sort of sadly repeat that I can't when he pulls out a SECOND BOTTLE and grins and goes "juice?"
And Im like FUCK YEAH LET'S GO and I'm a bit worried he's gonna spray it into my eye or something but he doesn't, it hits me right at the back of the throat, and I start drinking while the whole fucking table counts "ONE! TWO! THREE!"
And like
It just sorta
Kept going?
And Im looking at the chef and he starts freaking out by the time we get to six, and at around seven I kinda start looking around and my auntie is staring back in shock, my brother is laughing his ass off and my mom has her face in her hands
And then at like nine or ten it gets like. Super tense and quiet, and only the chef is still counting
And I guess it got too much for even him cause we're at eleven and I don't believe in quitting early and it is almost painful how awkward it's getting
So he cuts me off at twelve and raises his hands in the air and everyone else cheers and claps like a dumb movie
and I just sit back in my seat to look back at my mother staring at me surrounded by everyone she knows, bright fucking red in the face and choking with honest to god tears in her eyes and she puts her face back in her palms and starts chanting "I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know"
So I give her the biggest, proudest grin and tell her, "I won."
So now every time something suggestive happens in a movie, or in conversation, or something shocking happens around us and she goes to jokingly cover my ears, I just ask her, "Remember when I won?" And she goes face-down and groans, because I know EXACTLY how she thinks I trained to develop that particular skill and she HATES knowing that about me
The truth is though, I'm a whole ass 28 year old virgin. I've never so much as kissed anyone in my life. I had no idea I could do that trick until that exact moment
But she doesn't know that, and I'm never gonna tell her
19K notes
·
View notes
Text
i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
itâs a lot of pressure, is what iâm saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and iâd win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
#whew boy this make me anxious just typing it#wrestling#middle school#the dread#i feel like i have to write some stories about my grandpa not being a dick#because he was actually an amazing grandpa#he just had a few goofs are very comedic moments#and you know if you're gonna have a goof making it comedic is a virtue in itself#he was there for me more than a lot of my classmates dads were#and i dont want that undervalued#yeah#babylon-lore
23K notes
·
View notes
Text
SCREEN QUEEN! - G.S.
Synopsis. To see a movie or to make one? Four times Geto Suguru absolutely ruined you for the cameras, and the one time outside of them.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! pĂłrnstar! reader, pĂłrnstar!Geto, he is so DOWN BAD, exhibĂtionism, breĂ©ding, Getoâs tattoos, Getoâs PIERCINGS (d, tongue), THREĂSOMES, some Gojo x Reader x Geto, streamer!Gojo, vĂłyeurĂsm, Geto gets one taste is PĂSSYDRĂNK, mast. (Geto), oraI (fem + male rec.), spĂtting, p slapping, some Toji x Reader, PĂRE SMUT, hĂșmping, matĂng presses, semi-public, pet names, swĂ©aring.
Word count. 10.1k (woah)
A/N. Have a lovely week <3

âCh-chin up, honeyââ Getoâs drunkenly half-lidded stare sticks to you like a greedy second skin. And it makes him snicker, curling his thick fingers around your neck to force your glassy eyes upwards. âLet the camera see that hah- pretty face of yours.â
You mewl, batting your teary lashes up at his towering figure. Pretty glossed lips pressing the most sinful French kisses up his sensitive shaft, âLike this, Sugu?â
And god, that makes him throw his head back with a whimper. It makes him dredge up everything left of his sanity to remember those next few lines of his, praying that those babbling messes of his groans pick up on the microphones.Â
âY-yeah, got that right.â he jostles his muscular thighs even more heavily manspread, baring you with a sopping wet swipe of his angry tip against your pout. Poking the bulbous curve of his cool metal piercing just barely- âSo you can listen, brat.â
Damn. Getoâs already sure heâd stumbled over his script a few too many times. Already sure heâd forgotten what the next scene was with how he was too dangerously close-
CUT!
Shit.
He had a feeling this would happen.
Because Geto Suguru rarely ever had to take multiple takes whenever he was filming - he was no novice in this business. Far from it, in fact.Â
Bearing the title of one of the most-watched porn actors in history - and the five-time crowned winner of the most beautiful, as well - the audience loved him, and the directors loved him even more with just how many big, fat cheques heâd rake in easily.
And you?
That gorgeous newbie paired up with him today that was absolutely ruining him.Â
âSorry-â Your honeyed tone snaps him out of his syrupy reverie, and the little smile on your face is so innocent compared to just a few seconds ago. âMâstill new to this, so I think it was my fault.â
Yeah, ruining him.Â
âNot at all. Sâcute.â Getoâs plastering one of his suave grins all across his mean mouth, and without a second thought, heâs thumbing away that translucent little splatter of precum at the edge of your kiss-bitten lips. Wetting the curvaceous pad of his thumb, âBesides, donât worry yourself, pretty lady. I donât think a uh- what was it- clan leader would stutter as much as I did.â
And oh, he wished he could sneak in a few more glimpses of your laugh, music to his ears. Wondering what itâd feel like to have it vibrate around his still rock-hard cock. But alas, swiftly, the directorâs clapping a hand down on Getoâs broad shoulder.Â
âSuguru- my star! What happened back there?â the older man bares him with a toothy grin that said it wouldnât last there much longer if he made any more mistakes at todayâs shooting.
It was the first time in years that he had to have a word of reprimand. And he wasnât even fucking you today-
âNothing.â
âAre we sure-â
âNothing.â Firmer, this time, with a dangerous tinge that no other actor would dare have. His glassy eyes - still foggy from the slide of your tongue, still aching for more of it - fixate sideways on you getting your make-up retouched right beside him. Clearing his throat, âI wonât fumble next time. Promise.â
But shit, only a few seconds before the next take - the high-definition cameras rolling, the heady lighting fixated on the two of you - and he already feels like heâs about to lose it.
âSaid you were a rookie, right? You sure about that, screen queen?â heâs leering a slightly-smug grin down at you, the curved edges of his lips twitching at that little industry nickname of yours.
Heâd heard it here and there - mainly whenever Gojo was raving about you, but never did he think you would end up being soâŠso addictive.Â
Of course, heâs going to brag to his best friend as soon as this is over.
Youâre gifting him with a bratty huff, âIâve only been making videos for a few months, yâknow? So Iâve never had to have a blowjob scene with someone so-âÂ
And with a gulp, your syrupy eyes flicker downwards at his achingly hard cock - famed for just how massive Geto was. Already so creamy with a glistening coating of precum drizzling down his thumping veins, standing so thoroughly and thickly upright that it made your drenched thighs squeeze. Yearning to steal another taste of that furiously strawberry-blushed fat tip. â-so big.â
Shit, Geto could feel his fattened cock jolt already.Â
Hissing, âS-save it for the camera, honey.â
âOkay! Take 2, Act 1 of 1 from Cult Leader Geto.â A ringing voice cuts through your saturated air, and heâs settling back into his poised seated position on that decadently throne-like chair, you on your knees. âACTION!â
âMessing up such an important mission, hm?â Geto spits, stern voice targeting you at your very dripping core. Sear-like grip making your throat burn, fuming, âYâknow thereâs only one way to make up for it, right, honey?â
Your lips wobble oh-so-adorably when he hits them with a splattering smack! smack! smack! of his painfully hard length. Making you mumble, âWh-what do I hafta-â
And maybe because it was part of the script, maybe because Geto couldnât last hearing another melodic note of your sweetened voice - heâs shoveling all girthy inches of his swollen cock past your velvety lips.Â
Unapologetically.
Filthily.
GodâŠit was so easy to forget all the cameras with your tongue.
Pressing the reddened curve of his weepy cockhead to nestle hot and heavy on your tastebuds, your jaw aches with the sheer weight of his hefty shaft throbbing away comfortably on your tongue.Â
And you swear you can feel big, bulbous tears welling up behind your eyes with how every ounce of blood in Getoâs body comes rushing down into his steaming length. Expanding his rotund head to grow even thicker-
âShit.â he gasps. âShit shit shit shit-â Brows scrunching, drooling maw falling slack. Every muscle in his hulking body bows to hunch forwards in his chair, until your tight throat was choking around the thick curve of his swollen tip. One attractively tattooed hand splayed out firmly on the back of your head, âTake it- y-yeah, take it why dontcha? If ya wanna make it up to your leader.â
God, he didnât know if the cockdrunken way you were nodding was even real - but it made him groan just the same.Â
Sobbing out a swelteringly hot squelch! of syrupy precum that drips teasingly down the already-messy walls of your mouth. âHeh, maybe ya can even be my s-second-in-command with a mouth like this.â
And heâs giggling out in an almost hysterical way, head throwing backwards when his powerful hips rut up in slow grinds. Back and forth back and forth- that have your now-puffy lips stretching around so widely around his fat cock.Â
Struggling. Shit, heâs the biggest youâve ever had.
Geto already knew his agent was going to be on his ass for veering just the slightest degree off the script.
But he didnât care about that right now.
How could he? Not when the drag of your tongue was swirling around his steamingly hot girth in languid swivels, over and over fighting to trace every one of his prominent veins thumping angrily inside your mouth.Â
You whine at the saccharine sweet taste of his precum shooting down your throat in wet sputters, âS-Sugu-â
Fuck.Â
Geto hears himself whimper a pathetic noise as soon as youâre tugging yourself off of his leaky cock, pressing wet peck after peck up the underside of his messy shaft. Itâs glossing in glinting lip-prints that he half-wishes he could tattoo. Slipping and sliding to sloppily plant your mouth along the bawling divot at the very end of his rosy pink head.Â
âMhmââ heâs drawling, movements as slow as gliding through molasses when one of his strong legs comes to circle around your body. Muscles flexing so tight that if he angled just right he could squeeze that pretty throat of yours. He bites his lip, âSuck on my ah- tip- câmon, gorgeous. Heheh, yeah gimme a pretty peck, why dontcha?â
With a smug smirk, heâs guiding through trembly digits to thwack! thwack! thwack! his thick hilt in wet splatters across your lips. Only to figure out that he didnât even have to bother.
Because your sweet mouth was so ravenously reattaching back onto him, starkly raw lips glissading down the bulge of his Prince Albert. Your deft tongue swivels in such a filthy way down the underside of his slit, cheeks hollowing as you suck.Â
âSpit.â
âSâthis-â you hiccup, widened eyes pleading. Spitting out a silvery glob of saliva onto the very edge of his tip, âSâthis good, sir?â
Fuck, for a second there he almost forget that every one of your lines are scripted. And he deliriously wonders what if would be like if you called him that for realÂ
âHmmm, dunno.â His thumb smears across that pool of precum beside your lips - popping it into his mouth tastefully, âJusâ a bit deeper to make sure. You can do it- câmon.â
Swallowing up those solidly girthy inches of Getoâs so deliciously. Your nose presses against those drenched tufts of black at his toned pelvis, jittery fingers coming around to massage sultry little circles around his tight, cum-filled balls.Â
âHeh, think I prefer ya like this-â heâs restless now. Close. Knitting his brows rudely together, abs clenching mouth-wateringly at every wet gyration of his cock hitting the very back of your throat. And he couldnât stop. Didnât want to stop, not even if the director yells cut this time. â-all pliant, nâ shutting up that bratty mouth of yours.â Geto arches his spine so flexibly - a specialty of his - all the way enough to whisper in a hoarse pant of feverish condensation against your ear. âAll mine.â
Geto can barely even finish his line - or his train of thought, before with a wracing shudder, heâs cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life.Â
Oozing out the wettest wads of his thick cum, so much of his wispy white seed gushing across in dripping glides into the cavern of your mouth. Back and forth with every jackhammer. The money shot smearing all down your pretty chin.
And fuck, just the way he can feel it sloshing around in a tidal wave inside your mouth makes him groan out your name.
Barely even registering the way itâll have to be cut out in editing later, no- all he can think about is how heavenly you were milking him. Twisting your tongue to drag out his hazy orgasm, to swipe up even more of it from his piercing, you blink up in satisfaction.
Letting it overspill.Â
âHeh, fuck-â Getoâs tongue was dangerously loose now, mouth curling up into a simpering smile down at you when heâs bursting out in even more velvety ribbons of cum. It drips halfway down your jaw, washing a perfectly milky lipstain on you. Muttering, âWish I could fuck you- god, I would-â
Heâs cutting himself off with a dampened gasp, just as the chilling air on-set hits his hard erection.Â
In urgent moves, Getoâs pulling out of your silken soft mouth to drag you upwards with the hand tightened around your throat, crashing his lips into your own with sudden need.
Unsteady. Sodden. French kisses.Â
This wasnât in the script - and you whine at the cool metal against his cushy mouth. A tongue piercing. Shit, he had one to match his dick.
Swirling it across your own lips, Geto hears you moan in that sweet voice of yours just as you taste him - taste yourself on him - and heâs sucking on your tongue just as you did with his cock. Pooling all the dredges of salty seed on his own, before spitting it back out-
âTell yer agent-â he murmurs throatily, two fingers roughly wrangling your mouth shut. To make you swallow. His popping ears ignore the calls from the director for the scene to be cut. Finally completed. And Geto licks up the excess remnants of cum down your lips. â-to let me have ya again sometime, gorgeous.â
CULT MEMBER SLUT GETS TAUGHT A LESSON BY HER LEADER!
37 million views 1.5 million likes
Top comments:
satoruxstrongest: holy shit idk who im more jealous of ê° Ë¶âą àŒ ïżœïżœË¶ê±
unicorny: I VOLUNTEER FOR THE NEXT MISSION CULT LEADER GETO
hj.eromytits: guys is it just me or does geto sound EXTRA extra whiny in this video~?
tonykrier: No cuz I totes agree
---
Now, it wasnât normal for Geto to run home freshly after a shooting andâŠresearch his scene partner. To spend what seemed like hours upon hours pouring over every single video and picture youâd blessed his obscene mind with.
You.
An up-and-coming new actress, but already dubbed the nickname of screen queen. Loved by many for that sultry sweet smile of yours and just how gorgeous you were when you were all fucked stupid.Â
Everybody wanted you.
And Geto - oh, Geto was out of his mind.Â
Shit, heâs thinking through his saturedly needy thoughts, eyes locked on the two sweat-sheened bodies on-screen. It was an earlier one of you and legendary veteran porn actor, Toji Zenin, and the more he eyed the way your bugging pussy so readily swallowed each of his greedily girthy inches - the more he was fucking jealous his agent only booked a simple blowjob scene. Peering at the title-
DILF-NEXT-DOOR GIVES SCREEN QUEEN AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT.
That should be him.
The wet schwf! of clothes upon skin emanate throughout his penthouse bedroom when Geto unthinkingly drags the soft mountains of his palm down his throbbingly hard erection. Eyeing at how Toji was smearing your sopping pussy lips open, giving Geto the perfect view-
Shit, that should be him.
Holding back a low moan, âFuck-â he scrambles to hit the camera icon on his trembling phone, all but ripping his pants down to set free his ravaging cock. âGod- mâso fuckinâ hard-â
He doesnât even know who heâs talking to right about now - the audience, or you.Â
But all he can think about right now are those sparking stars behind his lids as soon as he runs the solid curve of his thumb along the bump of his swollen head. Still not fully hard, Geto squeezes his fat hilt just the way he remembers you did earlier today.
âSâall because of y-you, yâknow?â heâs gritting through clenched teeth, batting those long dark lashes of his right up at the camera. âWhyâd you hafta look at nhgh- m-me that way.â
God, his digits were only half as soft as yours were. And he keens at the rough drag of his fingerprints down the sensitive spots at every ride and curve. Melty mind stumbling through every mindless half-thrust into his fist.
Over and over.
God, he felt like a hormonal teenager all over again.
Heâs panting - gasping. Every rutting fuck up into his hand leaving his heavy balls clenching painfully, teeth clamping.Â
Getoâs never been this needy - this desperate to try and graspingly remember what your moans had sounded like through his phone speaker not too long ago. Itâs all he can do to sink his sharp canines down onto his fist, desperately holding back whimpers upon whimpers that threaten to spill out into the open.
Yet, they do, anyway.
âM-make me so fuckinâ horny, honey-â heâs swiping at the lazy trickle of drool down the edges of his drunkenly upturned grin. Puffing away the long, inky hair curtaining his eyes to splay out across the bed. âSuch a perfect body ya have- such a perfect pussy. Wish I could fuck it.â
Because that delicious arch in your back was practically burned into Getoâs mind, how your slutty cunt was slobbering down gloss after gloss of your sweet, sweet juices down Tojiâs fat cock. Heâd been massive - rivaling Geto, honestly - and he couldnât help but muse whether youâd take him that well, too.Â
Would you cry out and beg for more?Â
Would you bat your lashes and tell him to slow down- only to huff and puff in that naughty way of yours when he does?
You wereâŠyou were so pretty. And all he ever wanted to do was wreck that equally pretty pussy of yours, and ruin your makeup, and you.Â
You you you you-
Getoâs wrist aches down his tall shaft, stuttering up and down, he flicks his thumb wetly underneath his sensitive slit. Neatly grazing his manicured fingernail underneath the glazed bump, âIâd ruin ya, yâknow?â Geto chokes out, and he doesnât even have to fake the purring moan in his tone. The way his voice lilts embarrassingly higher in volume and pitch, gliding all the way up to nudge in wet peppered kisses across his chilling piercing. âWould make ya shut up on mâcock- hngh- until ya can feel my piercing branding into ya. Ruin everyone else f-for ya.â
God, the camera was so shaky right about now - and he half-wonders whether he wants to post this. Nothing like the usual professional set-up youâd usually see on Getoâs promotional tweets.Â
And then shit, just the thought of you actually seeing this video has him almost dropping his phone onto the dampened silken sheets below. His overly saturated mind liked to think that youâd like it, that you might even slip your own soft hand down into your flimsy excuse of panties.
âFuck- fuck.â Geto bounces his head back onto the plush pillows, thighs shuddering even further open, catching every pearlescent bead of precum being smeared down his thickening length. Filthy. So fucking filthy. Making him arch- âLook what you do- look how youâve got me- fuck-â
He was practically humping up like an animal now. Out of control. Each moan breaking into a whine in a way that Geto canât stop even if he wanted to.Â
And the more he thought about you the more-
âOh h-honey-â One of Getoâs thumb trails their way down to press down at the very middle of the twitchy curve of his balls. Hard. Hiccuping back a mewl of your name, heâs nodding like he doesnât even realize. âMâgonna cum hah- mâgonna cum, okay? Youâll hafta take it all t-take it hngh-â
And itâs just a few more merely sloppy grinds before Getoâs spurting out in thick streams of cum. So much of it.
Heâs fucking his fist like he wishes it was you. Itâs making such a mess down his greedy fingers, coating down to his wrist in a gleaming sheen of creamy white. Easier to make him slip up, up, up, and down his swollen, red shaft trying to dredge up something delicious from the very ends of his weepy divot.Â
He lets his phone drop, thick thighs straddling upon each side of the screen to jerk his achy cock off like your pretty face was just underneath him. Furious. Fast. A low ah! ah! ah! rasping through each breath.
God, his fingers weaken around his cock. Moving as if on auto-pilot when he circles his trickling wet fingers around his own rosy pink nipples - all glistening down his tattoos as if theyâd been laminated, they made for the perfect wet dream - then all the way up to suck on them. Cleaning. Tasting himself.
Fuck, wishing it was your hand.
Wishing you were here.
All Geto could think about is if you were here right now, then heâd swipe his blushing tip down your lips, instead - reel you into a dripping wet kiss just like before. He grunted at just how badly he wanted to taste on your candied tongue again-
Still so sensitive from the shoot with you before, Getoâs breathing out in heaves, pants. Tears prickling at the very ends of his bleary eyes, he bites down furiously on his coral pink lips, trying for the fucking life of him to not cum in blanks right now.Â
He does, actually.
Again. And again and again- spazzing cockhead jerking out a few wispy wet ribbons of his seed, before giving way into nothing. And if you listened closely to the crackling audio, you could almost hear Geto whimper.
Yet, he doesnât even notice until his thumb swipes shakily onto that red end button on the video.
Doesnât even register until heâs pulling up his infamously lewd Twitter account, the voice of his agent ringing in his pounding ears from today on something about âpromo for your upcoming videoâ with every few hasty clicks on-screen.
Geto posts.
And he doesnât even glance a second time at the screen before darting back into his browser history, searching ravenously for any more morsel of you he could dig up.
Because Geto Suguru might just be addicted.
@GetoTheCursed: For @ScreenQueen
2.6 million views 364k likes
Top replies:
moresenpaimore: holy shit the lighting? the shakiness? the whimpers? ITS ALMOST LIKE HE POSTED JUST AS HE CAME DADDY YOURE SPOILING US!!1!111!!Â
tjzenin: Good taste, kid. - Toji x.
ScreenQueen: <3
---
âYâlook so pretty like this, sweetheart.â Gojoâs angling your head just enough for the blinking camera to drink in that milky trail of slick trickling down the corners of your puffed-up pussy lips. Musing at how it probably couldnât capture half as how pretty you are with his massive cock bullied snugly into your strugglingly bulging cunt. âIsnât that right, Suguru?â
âHeh-â The other man only shifts his legs to manspread more comfortably on Gojoâs plush mattress, leaning back on two elbows. âDonât I know.â
hj.eromytits: ahhh~ a suguru and satoru stream my life is complete~ screen queen is so sexy too~
444stayze: WE NEED MORE COLLABS LIKE THIS SATORU PLEASE
chocho: sheâs soâŠbeautifulÂ
*chocho donated 690 chestnuts*
If Geto Suguru was the king of videos, then Gojo Satoru was the king of streaming. Wracking thousands upon hundred thousands - perhaps close to millions - that watched him strip down and bare the winking camera with his cocky, girthing inches. And today, he just-so-happened to have a special guest.
Two, actually, after hearing about your latest film with each other.
His long-time best friend, and the rookie actress heâd been just as obsessed with lately. And the tons of viewers right now were loving this combination.
Your greedy hips squirm ravenously, jostling Gojoâs cock to swirl in syrupy, circular swivels inside your gooey walls. Yet, you couldnât do anything with the thick, black blindfold wrapped around your two wrists - a staple of his persona. âG-gojo-â
Smack!
All five of his splayed-out fingers come down harshly in a swat against the curve of your ass, and Geto canât help but gulp heavily at the sinful way it makes your flesh jiggle.Â
Gojoâs tangling a vice-like grip into your scalp - eyes wide, wild, where heâs leering down at you. âNow now, youâre sâpposed to look at hah- me.â he whines. Shit- when had you even turned to look at Geto. âAnd what was it I told ya to call me?â
âT-To-â
Smack!
âLouder.â
âToru!â you squeal, feeling his leaky tip brush up in a wet nudge against your bulbous g-spot. Expanding even girthier to hit at that little bullseye over and over-
âSuch a s-slutty voice ya got on ya.â His sharp hipbones mashing against tender skin, stifling balls stinging your ass, juddering knees bouncing even faster. It was so fucking addictive sheathing himself inside the tight channel of your cunt. So hot and cozy inside that Gojo has to force himself to rip his line of sight onto Geto just behind you, âDoes sh-she always sound so sweet, Suguru?â
And Gojoâs not surprised - not even the tiniest bit surprised - to find that his best friend already has his silken button-up ripped open, ringed fingers stuffed into his too-tight pants.Â
AddictiveâŠyou were so addictive.Â
And heâs almost jealous that heâd introduced you to him on this stream.
Tearing away his clinking belt to knead over his rock-hard erection, drawling the very rounded edges of his fingers down his cupped balls. Squeezing. Hard. Geto looks so utterly like he has to force himself to breathe out something even slightly coherent, âHmmm, hard to say with the way she was on her knees last time- heheh-â
âSuch a dog ya are-â Gojoâs rolling his watery eyes, before pecking a wet glissade of his lips down onto yours. The woosh of donations flood the chat as soon as Getoâs letting out a roughened growl, âDontcha ngh- a-agree, sweetheart? So mean, hm? The chat certainly seems ta think s-so.â
âMhmââ youâre crying out - difficult, with the way he was sunken in so solidly inside of you. At Gojoâs sheer mercy.Â
Mercy that was slowly dwindling away with each and every slobbering fuck up into your dripping cunt, and you canât help but let your jaw drop into a needy oh when his ragged thrusts get faster. More desperate.Â
Peppering damp pecks along Gojoâs innocently pink lips, âS-so mean, Sugu.â
âYa hear that?â Gojo swipes his thumbs across your sloppy folds to bear you even further into the camera, and with Getoâs lolling gaze he could just peek the way your sodden hole was gaping widely. How his peaking veins massage your entrance through and forth- âOur girl says youâre a meanie, Sugu~â
candybah: GETO LOOKS MADDDÂ
k-en.j: she looks so cockdrunk already honestly idk who i want to be here
pumk1nhe1d: Love how Satoru winds him up. Wonder if her poor cunt can take both??
And Geto knew that your voice was absolutely dripping with teasing want, he knew that it meant nothing more than a simple line to get him worked up. But the way Gojoâs jittery arms were engulfing you to stick to him so closely, his knowing smirk flashing Getoâs way had him huffing out a pointed few profanities.Â
âFuck that.â heâs spitting getting up onto two unsteady feet to shuffle even closer to where your bodies were rocking the decadent bed violently. Tying back his dark tresses urgently - and oh shit, thatâs when you know heâs serious. And one of Getoâs fingers smack! away Gojoâs, searing his own possessive grip onto the blindfold to haul you against his washboard abs. âOpen.â
Fuck, itâs just about all that you can do.
Slopping out your tongue to present your glistening tastebuds - right on par for Geto to be splattering a thick wad of saliva.Â
Letting the translucent slick sift across your mouth, and with years in the game, Geto Suguru already had perfect aim. He couldâve already made an easy, clean work of spitting in your mouth.
But, no, heâs speckling wet little messes around your lips on purpose. Swiping it away with the very back of his slender fingers, âNow, would you care to repeat- that?â
Every truncated drag of his moans is punctuated by a ragged rut of Getoâs hips against the globes of your ass. The remainder of his free hands being sure to press your arched body even further backwards into him.Â
You feel him throb against your heated skin, his fat girth jostling to make you hump down on everything from the very globular edges of his tip all the way down to where his fat balls were kissing up into you stickily. Gushing out steaming hot wave after wave of precum that formed delicate strings to snap!
Smack!
âCâmon now, sweetheart~â Gojoâs slow tut makes you squeal. âSânot nice to leave someone hah- hanging.â
Batting your teary lashes up at Geto, youâre struggling through your relentless restraints to try and crane up into a kiss. And Geto - ever the bully - makes you work for it, barely moving. âMâm-sorry-â
âThatâs not what I asked-â his hot breath puffs up dangerously to fan your ear. Cool rings on his digits burning a blazing pathway up to your neglectedly hardened nipples, making you keen out such whiny sounds when he pinches. âTell me what you said.â
âS-said-â youâre sobbing out. The double stimulation of Gojoâs ravaged cockheadbumping up into your spongy cervix, and the way that Getoâs thumbs were swirling over in pressurized circles over your tits too much. â-said you were m-mean hngh- didnât mean i-it ah fuck-â
âAre you sure?â
âYou really are s-such a hngh- bully, Suguru.â
âTch, shut up-â And Geto would never admit the way that he was humping you like such a dog. Panting - heaving, practically - with every sodden grind, his teeth tug harshly on your precious ear lobe. â-at least Iâm gonna be the one t-to make her cum.â
Gojoâs rolling his eyes, pecking a sudden crash into the very same spot of your g-spot. âNo I will.â
âAs if, ya had to borrow my camera t-today jusâ to capture how gorgeous she is.â
Both Gojo and Getoâs lips mesh into yours now, tongues bumping into each other, swirling across yours so lewdly. Sucking and nibbling along any inch of yourself that you would give them. Anything that they could take.Â
Heâs bucking his hips sloppily, drawing wet gashes between your pre-soaked lips, and nudging against where Gojo was buried so deep. Too much.
Murmuring into your lips, Geto giggles - giggles every-so-drunkenly in a way that made the stream chat flood. âHeh, if ya really mean it then cum fâme, honey.â
Fuck- then, you do.
Itâs hitting both you and Gojo like a sudden semi-truck.Â
Yelping out a saturated mixture of what sounded like both their names before your gushy walls squeeze tightly. So fucking cozy that Gojo has to stuff one of his long fingers into your quivering hole just to scissor your entrance open, to fuck you through your high.
His fat girth edging you through peak after peak of bliss, your toes curl, mouth still latched firmly with Getoâs. Spazzing cock bawling out a few silvery strings of white down your back - just barely. âMy good girl- good- hah- fuckinâ girl.â
âAwww. Look, Suguru-â The other man titters, bringing up his free hand to swipe across your now freshly wet cheeks. âYa really are a meanie, huh? You made her cry.â
Geto only rolls his dark eyes, that particular remark making him take it out on you - because oh, he might not be fucking you tonight, but it was so utterly fun to rip out those whiny syllables from your pretty mouth. Heâs tugging on your nipple with one hand, the other dipping slowly to swat! at your plump clit. âWell, I also made her cum.â
âHah? No way, that was me-â
âIâll beat you up right here, right now, Satoru.â
#1 RANK satoruxstrongest: got two special guests! tonight is going to be fun ww `ââ©âÂŽ -â§
51 million views 4.8 million likes
Top donors:
unicorny: WOAH when Geto SPIT?? And when they were arguing?? My apologies, sir, I did not know you were about that life (sheâs so lucky me next)
honey.bunney: LITERALLY MY WET DREAM OH MY GOD BI PANIC I LOVE THEM
king0fcurses: lmfao weak. Invite me on the next stream and iâd show her a better time.
---
God, times like this, you almost hated your profession.
Because yes, despite everything, the pay you received was staggering - but absolutely no amount of money was enough to compensate for the complete and utter asshole that was Naoya Zenin.Â
And especially not filming with him.
A nepo baby that had climbed his way through the ranks with the help of his family name; most of his audience came to watch him fail utterly pathetically at trying to boss his co-stars around and ultimately end up whining with just the slightest little squeeze of your cunt.Â
To watch him be broken and sobbing for mercy - exactly the way you preferred him.Â
Anything but this-
â-câmon- just one night, baby-â Naoyaâs purring voice sleazes across your ears, and you ignore him to clutch your thin robe even tighter around your body. Thankful that the filming and clean-up was finally over. âPromise Iâll have you seeing stars.â
When he didnât even have you seeing your climax? You want to ask, but unfortunately hold back - for your agentâs reputation, if anything else.Â
Plastering on an almost-painful faux smile, âI think we spent more than enough time together on-set.â
With that, you shift off the bed to weave determinedly through the bustling camera staff and the director calling out for the editing crew - you didnât even know where you were going, at this point.Â
But Naoya Zenin was persistent, if not anything else.Â
Catching up hurriedly, his fingers tap down the side of your shoulder, gliding over the peaking strap of that pretty pink bra youâd worn just for the shoot today - something special your very own viewers had picked out.Â
You stand stock-still in the middle of the room when he murmurs into your ear, âPlayinâ hard to get isnât cute, yâknow. Just give in-â
SWAT!
âExcuse me-â Youâre grinning through the slight sting at the back of your hand - because oh, it was impossible not to smile at the utter look of shock on Naoyaâs sharp features the very instant his hand had been smacked away mercilessly. Fuming. Undeterred, your eyes shift down warningly between his legs, â-before I make sure you can never work in this industry again.â
âW-wait-â
But who would bother to wait before making their escape? Not even looking - not even caring - about where you make your sudden strides to.Â
SLAM!
The door closes. Hard.Â
And you breathe out a shuddering sigh of relief when the cacophony of noise from outside bleeds away into nothingness, like a stifling little cocoon inside.
Fuck- where had your feet even taken you?
It takes a few blinking seconds at the rows upon rows of skimpy lingerie and outfits for you to realize that youâd shut yourself in the costume room just outside of your current set. And a few more seconds to realize that you werenât alone-
âOh!â you gasp. And you donât even know whether to look - where to not look at the absolute wet dream in front of you.Â
Geto Suguru was standing unabashedly in the middle of the room, long hair splayed out across his back - and you could count every swirling tattoo of his. Because he was painfully shirtless. Showing off the sculpted ridges and curves of his muscles that flexed a just a little tighter whenever your greedy gaze was dancing down his bulging biceps, his inked hips, his-
âCat got yer pretty tongue, honey?â
âWh-wha-â you sputter. Fingers scrambling upwards to cover your eyes - before realizing how futile that is with how youâve seen everything already. âCat got your ability to change in the changing stalls instead of where everyone can see, Geto?â
He cocks his smug head, grinning down at you. âWell, it doesnât look like youâre complaining, though?â
âYouâre too much.â
Throwing that thin cotton t-shirt grasped within his digits somewhere off to the side - perhaps to toy with your sanity even more. He crosses his thick forearms, showing off every bumpy vein of his. âBesides- I was here first- helping out olâ Nanami with a costume. The more important question should be why the Screen Queen of all people is barging in here?â Lips quirking attractively upwards, âWanted to see me shirtless again so badly, hm?â
You did.
âYou wish.âÂ
Youâre rolling your eyes, and you never knew how close someone could get to you just within that split-second. Because youâre already feeling the feverish rush of his ragged breath against your features, skin burning mere inches from yours.Â
Close.Â
With a gulp, youâre careening back against the velvety walls. âMore like wanted to run away from Naoya Zenin and his dates so badly.â
So close.Â
âAh.â Getoâs nodding with understanding. Running a hand through his hair, he easily slips that tiny black tie into his mouth. Moving to bunch up his strands into a ponytail, âNeed me to beat him-â
You cut him off, âNo no no-â Frantically waving your hands about - partially because you really didnât want him to leave right now. âI took care of it, anyway.â
âThatâs my girl.âÂ
And something about the honeyed way he hummed those words made your stomach lurch, it had you panting out a needy breath into the almost non-existent space between you two. One of his palms splay out on the wall beside your head, caging you in. Getoâs greedy gaze daring for a mere split-second to the CCTV camera by the far corner of the room - eh, Ichiji is probably on break, anyway. âThen I guess, my next question isâŠâ
God, heâs so mean.
So teasing.
Reaching up to trail down the very end of his pointer finger in-between the seam of your robes - doing practically nothing to hide the way that Geto licks his lips at every sliver of your skin revealed.Â
Down between the valley of your breasts, down to your navel.Â
Down, down, down.
â-did he take care of you?â
Youâre stammering your head into a half-delirious shake, âH-he didnât make me-â
Geto makes an almost primal snarl at the very back of his throat, darkened eyes widening. He sounds so out-of-breath already. âMake you what?â
â-didnât make me cum!â
And oh, those words changed everything.
âThen I guess I better make up for my colleagueâs incompetence, right?â
Because not only did they have Geto Suguruâs sanity snapping, it had your poor, drenched panties as well - stumbling around your ankles in a useless pile of fabric with only one thorough pull of his deftly curled digits.
âSo flimsy.â heâs raising one dark brow, sharp canines glinting against the dim lighting in amusement. âYet it still wasnât broken- Goes ta show what a hah- great time ya had with Naoya, huh?â
âPlease- D-donât tease-â
What did you even mean to say- donât tease you? he wonders. As if he ever could. Half-drunkenly, half-deliriously because Geto couldnât get fucking enough of anything but the way that your pretty pussy was winking up at him with a glistening sheen. So puckered and ready for him that he wanted to give her a little kiss.Â
A French kiss.
âShhh- better keep âer quiet fâme, gorgeous-â heâs chuckling, hurried now that his knees clatter to the floor with a loud bang! Maybe it hurt, maybe it didnât- Geto didnât fucking care. âBecause mânot going easy on you.â
And with a raw drag of his heaving inhales, heâs drinking in your mouthwatering essence. Greedy.
Glissading up the very slit between your puffy pussy lips, heâs curling his thumb meanly into your sloppy hole. Circling around in practiced, purposeful little swipes.Â
âG-Getoââ heâs quietly admiring the way it rolls off of your tongue, and fuck heâs never been one to be cocky over his own name but right now it was so fucking impossible not to be. Batting long, dark lashes from between your trembly thighs, âSo mean, yâknow that?â
Oh, you little minx. Getoâs brain flashes back to the stream with his best friend-
And he canât help the sultry rasp of your name at the very back of his throat, the way his ringed fingers come branding down in such a dangerous swat! right against the plump edge of your clit- barely grazing your sensitively beading peak.
A warning.Â
âWhat was that?â he spits. Followed by a literal wad of his syrupy saliva right onto the slope of your hole watching the splatters speckle across your drooling cunt. It felt so possessive. âIf Iâm so mean, then you should find it- heh, sooo fucking easy to stay quiet, hm?â Wild eyes locked with yours - youâve never seen this look anywhere in Getoâs films. Anywhere. âWouldnât wanna be caught with the big- bad- meanie-â
Shit, it was something to tease him - something to get on your longtime idolâs nerves. But youâd never have expected the effect that it would have.
Because Geto was ravenous when his lips are placing a messy kiss onto your own - your other ones. Meshing a sultry glide of his tongue between your swollen folds, his tongue piercing so cold against your tight ring of muscle.
He wasnât easing you in.
He wasnât showing you any mercy or regret when Geto stuffs his face as deeply into the heaven between your legs as he could go. And it almost hurts him when his nose smushes harshly into your sensitive nub, when his jaw aches with just how much farther he couldnât sink into your pretty pussy.Â
Groaning, one of Getoâs splayed-out palms wrangles your ever-weakening legs onto his broad shoulders, the other toying taunting circles sailing all over your clit. Because he wanted more more more-
âNgh- fuck!â Your unsteady fingers dangle their way through his silken strands - as soft to the touch as they looked. And you tug when you feel the silvery cold metal dart against your melty walls - not that it moved him even an inch. âFuck that feels so good-â
âI know-â heâs smirking up at you. âNâ it sounds like e-everyone out there sâgonna know, too- heh. I donât mind.â
God, thatâs when it hits you to lower the volume of your honeyed moans. Biting down on the knuckles of your free hand, you level him with a glare.Â
âL-look whoâs talking-â
Geto only chuckles through the sopping wet squelches heâs reeling out from your cunt. Fingers now dripping downwards with a final pinch to your clit and onto your hole. âSânot my fault your p-pretty pussyâs so talkative, honey.â
âG-Geto-â
âShhh, lemme hear her talk. Please?â
You gasp when you feel him plowing a trail of his thick digits into your already snugly-filled channel. Such a tight fit with both Getoâs rummaging fingers and his toasty tongue slurping up every bead of your juices.Â
Theyâre swirling around you with reckless abandon, no longer the expert methods and tricks you were used to. No, Geto was pumping his fingers into you solely because he was addicted to the feeling.Â
To the loud slurps and squelches resounding from down below with his miniscule movements.
âHeheh, yeahhh- so fucking mouthy she is. Might as well have s-someone overhear her.â He grunts, feeling your gummy walls clamp down on him so vice-like. And it takes him every shred of willpower to finally part his sinful way with your cunt, to drag his lips in a final kiss down your wet folds. âHold on- got an idea.â
Fuck.Â
An idea from Geto Suguru would never bode well for your sanity.
And you were completely right in assuming so, because in a split-second, heâs reaching down to his pants pocket - pulling out a glinting silver lip ring. One that finds itself placed so prettily near the very edge of Getoâs rawly rubbed pink lips.Â
One that finds itself wrapped oh-so-deliciously around your clit. Sucking.Â
More.Â
âHeh, youâre the first one to hah- see me with this new lip ring- congrats-â
âL-lucky me-â you manage to choke out. Hips rutting up and down up and down from the wall, dragging your slobbering cunt all down to make-out with his gorgeous features - and Geto doesnât look like heâs anywhere but heaven. âIt feels- so so- mmpf-â
Without warning, his thorough digits find themselves rudely shoved between your jaw-dropped mouth. Metal rings cold. Thick. Pressing down at the back of your tongue-
âHeheh- what did I say-â heâs dragging his mouth backwards to tug on your weepy clit. Other set of fingers picking apart your sweetest spots inside, ruthless cadence picking up. âQuiet, honey- be quiet fâme like my good girl why- ah- why dontcha?â
Truthfully, Geto himself is finding it so fucking difficult to concentrate.Â
Heâs so sloppy. So loud.Â
He feels like he could combust with every shuddering gush of your sweet, sweet juices down the lover half of his face. So much of it that itâs dripping down into a lewd puddle onto the floor.
And heâs forced to swivel his free hand punishingly into your mouth to stop himself from traveling it down to his pants and creaming all over it like some loser. God- no- he had to make you cum. And fast. Before he loses it.Â
âCâmon, my pretty lady-â Geto bursts out in feverish hot pants breathed into your cunt, mouth rearing everywhere. And the stark contrast between his cool lip ring and his mouth made you shiver down your spine in white-hot pleasure. Hot and cold hot and cold- âCan ya hear that?â
Ah, damn. Just your luck - both your ears perk up at the distance resounding of footsteps. Close.
You tug on his long strands. Through muffled syllables, âG-getoââ
Closer.
âSâalright sâalright-â heâs snickering, sounding for all the world as relaxed as ever like he wasnât two seconds away from being caught with a fellow actress in one of the most scandalous positions for even a porn company. â-jusâ cum fâme. Cum fâme, honey.â
Your cunt was so sensitive. Youâre whimpering through his fingers once Geto presses in deeply onto that magical spot. Stars bursting behind your eyes- âMâgonna cum, Geto- so close. Mâgonna- mâgonna-â
You didnât have to finish your sentence.
Because with only a few bustling thrusts of his digits into that very same bullseye, youâre cumming all over Getoâs pretty face. Splattering his chiseled chin in a sheeny gloss of you, so filthy.
And he lets you - oh, he lets you. Why wouldnât he?
Not when this is all that heâs been dreaming of ever since he had you that one time on set, not when you tasted so sweet spurting your juices down his tongue. Kittenish kisses lapping up every wet gash of slick, his fingers strain with how furiously heâs fucking you through your high.
âOh- oh, honeyâ â The only mantra that Geto can babble out pussydrunkenly, quirking up his hips to grind his rock-hard erection against your thigh. God, he felt like he could cum in his pants right now. âThaâs right- use me- use me.â
Forcing his jittery fingers down to your hips in a rough restraint, heâs dragging your drooling cunt up and down up and down up and-
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
âHey- ya in here?â
Click! In an instant, Getoâs long arm span is reached over to lock the door.Â
And god, Naoyaâs voice was grating enough that he almost lost his rock-hard erection - if it hadnât been for that sweetly startled mewl ripping from your throat, that is.Â
You scoff, fully ready to give him a piece of your - albeit syrupy, orgasmically hazed - mind to the man outside. But with a sneaky finger signaling you to be quiet, he stands back up to his hulking stature. Growling out a biting, âOnly one in hereâs me, fuck off.â
Only then comes the sputtering, âWh-why Iâd never-â
âUnless ya want your lilâ idol Toji to hear about how youâve been nothing but a prick to his favorite actress.â
Itâs barely even a second later when you hear those footsteps walking urgently away, and not even two when Getoâs hot breath puffs up against your ear. Words slurring and stumbling over one another, gliding his tongue across his lower lip to snatch up every ounce of you. âDonât you worry-â Before sucking on the very same fingers that were buried inside you, âMâgonna ruin him.â
And thatâs all it takes for him to remember something else youâd said about that very man just earlier. Something about a dateâŠas if.
âKiss me- kiss me kiss me please-â Getoâs mouth hovers over yours. Gingerly placing peck after peck- âFuck- s-suck-â Not even having to finish his sentence with how your heated lips wrapped around his icy lip ring, dripping with your slick. âNâ I was th-thinking- would ya- only if youâd like- wanna make a movie-â
âYes.â
Hah, Geto grins. Take that, Satoru.
LOCATION: CCTV room, Jujutsu X company building.
Employee count - 1Â
âFuck- fuck-â Ichijiâs struggling to push up his condensation-fogged glasses with one of his slippery hands. Fingers trembling on the keyboard when heâs rewinding the camera footage in the costume room by just a few more seconds. âOh god- mâgonna get f-fired-â
Again.
And again.
And again and-
âShit-â heâs shuddering out, head woozy at the sheer overstimulation. Belt clattering against the plastic of his chair for about the nth time this hour. â-she really is a screen queen.â
---
Geto Suguru planned everything meticulously - till every detail was checked off on his seasoned mental list of making the perfect homemadeâŠmovie.Â
Not exactly something that heâd tried out personally before but- but who better to do it than with you? And he swears with every bit of insincere honesty inside of him that this was totally not because heâd been yearning to feel you cumming all over his cock for months now.Â
YeahâŠtotally not.
So he planned.
And he had everything - the heady candle-lit bedroom, the fresh silken sheets, the soft music playing from a speaker somewhere across the room. The only undecided thing being the name of your little tryst. Prowling over to you sat on the bed - all it takes is a simple shove to spread you out the way heâs been dreaming of. Humming, âYou ready?â
Well, everything except-
âG-Geto, how are we gonna make a movie with no camera-â
Shit, that was the last thing on Getoâs mind right now - just about the furthest thing, despite being the very epicenter of his entire career.
Everything he needed.
But no fucking camera.
Oh.Â
âShit.â heâs chuckling - somewhat gingerly, somewhat pussydrunkenly with just a glimpse of you splayed out like this on his plush bed. In another one of you gauzy lingerie sets, leaving barely anything for his overdriven imagination to obsess over. Heâs scratching behind his neck, âWe can st-â
âNo-â And Geto looks just as shocked as you feel right now, skin heating up with embarrassment at your hasty answer.Â
But oh, that only makes him take it in stride - makes him slide his hand underneath his velvety boxers to knead greedily at his thumping hot erection. Grinning, âThe Screen Queen doesnât want to be on screen? How shocking.â
But it wasnât.
God, because he could already see that darkening splotch at your silk drenched panties. The way your lower lip wobbled with so much want - heâd already watched enough of your videos to recognize it by now.Â
Heâs nosing down your neck, drinking in each of your little shivers. âHow do you want me?â
And all you can say is- âI just want you-â
Swat!
The rounded tips of Gojoâs fingers find themselves placing a pretty peck right on your pulsating clit, sending obscene shockwaves bowing your spine. Right into his arms, âYou a-always say the sweetest things, honey.â
You hiss at the cool clash of his proud Prince Albert - and the way that one of Getoâs dangling silver necklaces knock into your chin softly.Â
And heâs groaning, just throwing his head back at the flurry of stars bursting behind his eyes. Hands gripping onto the edges of his sheets, Geto slides his hips in a slow back and forth against your own. Sandwiching the circular girth of his cock between your sodden folds, they make such a pretty scene.Â
âTell me, pretty babyââ His fingers smear at the wet drizzles seeping from either side of your slit. â-do ya get this wet for the c-camera too or sâit jusâ for me?â But youâre only spewing out a few nods and syrupy yeses, gushing all around him that he canât help but wonder what it would like bursting with him inside-Â
He doesnât have to bother waiting long.
Now, usually Geto liked to take his time - would prefer to see you crying and breaking while you beg for his cock more than anything else.
But shit, right now he thinks that a second longer he isnât buried inside your cunt might make him die-
âCâmon câmon câmon-â heâs hissing at the elastic stretch of that first ring of muscle. Easing his way in to bulge your sloppy entrance all full with just the very ends of his bulbous tip. âTake it- please, please take it-â
Geto canât keep the slight tremble out of his tone even if he wanted to - not with the way your gooey cunt was molding around his shape to suck up every inch of him. And god, was there so much of him. Itâs like it was never-ending.Â
âShit-â your nails reel red, red marks down the milky plane of his deltoids. âI-I can feel you in my hngh- lungs, Geto-â
He chuckles - all the way into your lungs and heâs not even halfway in, yet? Hell, fuck halfway in, heâd just managed to smear past your swollen pussy lips to rut his fat head inside. Hissing at the clench of your walls around his sensitive slit.Â
âSuguru-â he gasps, eyes still wrenched down on the way your cunt was greedily gobbling him up. âP-please if you can call that hah- fuckass âSatoruâ, then call me Suguru, please-â
Itâs all that has to come out of your mouth - a sweet, syrupy âSugu-â
Oh.
Oh, shit.
You feel yourself gulping down every one of his solid inches, a sheer circumference that you never even thought possible- the friction between your gummy walls and his furiously jackhammering cock having you squeal-
Smack!Â
Finally fully inside you, your pussy lips kiss his thickened hilt like long lost lovers, and his heavy balls shift against your ass.
âDonât- donât run-â Getoâs sputtering out a slightly broken plea, pure desperation wafting off of him like a heady perfume. It was contagious. And his rough fingers grip tightly around your waist, jousting up the dampening blankets all around your body when he pulls and pulls and pulls- âFuck, whereâd you think youâre going, huh, honey?â
His tone was just dripping with something dark, something you can only sputter and drool to match when every nook and spongy cranny inside is being filled up with Getoâs fat cock.Â
And it twitches inside you happily - if heaven was real then it felt like this, Geto muses already thoroughly pussydrunk.Â
âMâm-not running away-â youâre pouting a slick-glossed pout up at him. One that he canât help but crane his neck down in an instant to kiss away. âYouâre just s-so big- bigger than on camera-â
Fuck.
You wouldâve shut your babbling mouth sooner if youâd known what would happen.
Because the rotund edges of Getoâs cockhead only swells up wider, squirting out even thicker wads of his steamingly hot precum with every mindless, saturated grind. Ones just to fit in- more and more, even after heâs finding himself kissing a wet glide down the ends of your cervix. Making sure to brand that edge of his piercing onto every gooey wall.Â
âGod- yâreally know how to drive me c-crazy-â Getoâs dark hair curtains either side of your head, and you almost donât notice the way he swipes up two hands underneath your thighs to press you into a mean mating press. Letting you latch on limply while he leaves to swat at one of your hands cupping your pussy, âNâ move that hand- fuck- mâgonna fuck that outta ya.â
And he does.Â
The mattress creaks in loud protests when heâs pummeling you with stupidly rude clashes of his weepy tip onto the edges of your g-spot - already expertly mapped out by him now - heâs feeling the sloshy mixture recoil with each thrust. So much of it. âSuch a pretty pussy- such p-pretty moans, makes me wanna keep it tâmyself-â
God, heâs wanted you for what seems like forever - and he was going to take it.
Panting hotly against your mouth, heavals. Drunk on your messy kisses and the way your pussy lips were bulging with the struggle to take him - but still milking him so needily. âTie up my h-hair, honey, wanna see that pretty face of yours proper.â
All you can do is blink back the wall of tears thatâd made its home in your eyes, trembly fingers taking ahold of Getoâs thin, black hair tie.Â
But you didnât expect it to be so difficult.Â
Because any moment you were even slightly close to bunching up enough of his locks, heâs planting a thorough trail of kisses down your cervix. Before ending with the very showstopper - at your g-spot.
And one look up into Getoâs half-lidded eyes told you one thingâŠhe was doing this on purpose.Â
Your legs knock-knee in an almost engulfing way around his heavily swallowing throat, muttering out in a tone that you probably thought was threatening - but that Geto found so cute. âIâm onto you, sir-â
Fuck.
Fuck, maybe you were threatening.
He didnât expect that evil little nickname to slip past your lips - and you didnât expect Geto to swipe up a devious thumb up your clit in retaliation. Pretty, puckering lips trailing up the valley of your breasts, âI have no idea what you oh- mean, Screen Queen.â
And despite how you were huffing and puffing, your pussy was so clingy all around him. Hips bumping up in slight bucks fully off of the bed in a pathetic attempt to match Getoâs sloppy cadence.Â
Completely starstruck at the sheer pressurized thrusts you were being ruthlessly dealt with - and you half-lucidly swear you could count stars over your head.
âDo it-â His lips kiss down your winking eyes, ringed fingers cold against your own now. â-do it, honey- you can do it. Might be the Screen Queen but youâre my slut, arentcha?â
God, itâs like his words were hypnotic - maybe they were.
And you dredge up every single bit of will in your trembly body to push past the way that he was absolutely ravaging you inside.Â
Pound after pound of his swollen cock, the chilling cold metal of his dick piercing helping you discover forbidden sweet spots inside you that you didnât even realize existed.Â
So merciless that heâs slipping out a few inches by accident- only to let out a shuddering gasp, eyes shooting almost-comically wide open before sheathing his way in again. Even deeper - youâre being crushed with the weight of one of his knees pressing down on your body.
Over and over-
âWanna- hah- wanna cum so badly-â your words prattle out delicately. Fingers searing across his scalp, and the way that you tug makes him hiss. It makes him rut, it makes him slam his hips down bruisingly. âPlease-â
He leaves a slurping wet kiss on your neck - and another with his fingers onto the hood of your clit. Rolling over with the angled curve of his thumb. Obviously, having you drop a few tresses of his hair- âHeh, maybe t-tie my hair properly nâ Iâll let ya cum- you know sâa staple of my hngh- videos.â
So infuriating, it makes you clench.
That sleazy grin plastered across Getoâs face was unfairly sexy, and so was the way his body was wracking with sudden shivers. Boasting down every curve and muscle, forcing him to fall onto his elbows-
âHngh- nâ you call me the rookie-â Your smug grin curves upwards at the way that Geto was so tangibly pussydrunk, the way his hips squelch sloppier into your own. The dripping wet noises so obscene that you could feel your cunt drenching even further with each emanating one.
âGod, youâre in for it-â heâs spitting out a few slews of swears against your dangling open mouth. Pinching meanly at your clit. âYouâre in- hah- youâre sooo in for it-â
But then Geto sees white - and so do you.
Whether from the crashing pleasure of your orgasm, or the way that he was suddenly pumping out thick ribbons of cum into your snugly filled cunt, you have no idea. And you donât even have the rational brain capacity to even wonder right now.Â
Because Geto was fucking you through your high like he hated you, rutting up like an animal. And you were sure that if his canines were just a tinge sharper, theyâd be drawing blood with how hard he was sinking them into the crook of your neck.Â
Only deeper, more feral, with every pump of his spazzing cock - gushing out in boatloads of syrupy cum. It thwacks! against the utterly bruised and battered wet surface of your cervix, before dripping down, down, down to your g-spot.
And thereâs so much.Â
Such velvety volumes that ooze down in creamy dredges from the very purse of your pussy lips to form a milky ring around his ruddied base. It inflates your constricting walls from the inside - and yet, still not enough.
He presses one hand down to feel for that bump where youâd been filled to the brim. Sure to add more - to paint your dripping insides white until he was shooting blanks the same way heâd done to simply the thought of you. The idea makes him moan-
No, it makes him whimper.
âStill havenât hngh f-finished tying my hair, honey.â Getoâs mouth leaves possessive marks down your neck. And his sensitive hips dart with a simple, sullying gyration, smiling, âEither you hngh finally do it properly like a good girl th-this time nâ we make a movie or- we go see one. This weekend. You and me. Your choice, Screen Queen.â
A/N. This got LONG but OHH PIERCED GETO MY BELOVED.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#geto x reader#geto smut#geto x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru#gojo x reader#tonywrites#gojo smut#toji x reader
13K notes
·
View notes
Text
LAW OF ATTRACTION - GOJO SATORU
summary. Newton said the smaller the distance, the stronger the pull. Gojo Satoru thinks that explains the way he feels when youâre close.
word count. 18.2k (i need help)
content. mdni, fem!reader, college au, nerd! gojo, simp gojo supremacy, fluff, banter, tensionnnn, pet names, he's so down bad it's actually pathetic, teasing, smut, male mast., oral (male + fem rec), cum eating, face sitting, p in v, mating press, slight hair pulling, praise, swearing, light dumbification (just a lil), tit play, overstim, creampie, aftercare, pillow talk
author's note. fashionably late (?) to the trend BUT HERE WE ARE
Gojo Satoru is already arguing with the professor.
The classroom smells like coffee and too-new textbooks, the kind of sterile atmosphere that clings to the first week of university. Half the students arenât even paying attention yet, still easing into the rhythm of things. But not him.
Gojo stands tall near the front, hands in the pockets of his pressed slacks, sweater vest and button-up perfectly in place, thick-rimmed glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose. His snowy hair is perfectly messy, his posture relaxedâalmost bored.
âIâm just saying,â he drawls, voice smooth and annoyingly self-assured, âyou canât talk about general relativity without at least addressing gravitational time dilation. Not if you want to keep your credibility.â
Thereâs a beat of silence. Someone in the back stifles a laugh.
The professor straightens her notes. âWeâll get there, Gojo.â
âSure,â he says, unbothered, but thereâs a glint in his cerulean eyes. âBut isnât it a little irresponsible to feed undergrads simplified versions of reality? Weâre not children.â
âYouâre barely adults,â the professor mutters under her breath.
And just when it seems like heâs winding up for another volleyâanother casually devastating critique thatâll make the professorâs eye twitchâthe door opens with a quiet creak.
âSorry Iâm late.â
The room stills.
You step inside, backpack slung over one shoulder, sunlight catching in your hair like some perfectly staged movie scene. You arenât frazzled or apologeticâjust calm, composed, like this is your class and everyone else is simply borrowing space in it.
Gojo turns. And forgets how to speak.
He doesnât recognize you even though heâs memorized everyoneâs faces during the orientation. But yours is unfamiliar. Distractingly so. And in that moment, standing half-turned at the front of the classroom, he is completely, totally, undeniably wrecked. His mouth parts slightly. No sound comes out.
The professor clears her throat. âTry to be on time next class.â
You nod easily. âOf course. Wonât happen again.â
Gojoâs eyes follow you as you make your way to an empty seatâhis row. The one he claimed early on for optimal note-taking and strategic interruption placement. And of course, because the universe clearly enjoys watching him suffer, you pick the seat right beside his.
He doesnât move. Doesnât sit. Just watches as you settle in beside him and flip open your notebook like nothingâs happened. Like you didnât just reset the laws of gravity around his universe.
âGojo?â the professor prompts from the front.
He startles. âHuh? Ohâyeah. I mean, yes. Sorry.â
Silence stretches as the lecture resumes. Gojo Satoruâs foot bounces beneath the desk. His fingers twitch like they want to scribble something but forgot how pens work.
He chances a glance at you from the corner of his eye. Youâre taking notes, completely unfazed. Like you havenât just walked into his orbit and thrown everything off-axis.
-
Itâs quiet in the library. The kind of quiet that almost feels sacred, broken only by the occasional rustle of paper or the soft click of a keyboard. Youâre tucked away at a corner table, head down, headphones in, completely immersed in your reading.
Gojo spots you the moment he steps in. He hadnât meant to come hereâphysics homework was the last thing on his mind todayâbut the second he saw you seated, that changed. Suddenly, heâs very interested in gravitational lensing and quantum field theories.
He chooses the table diagonally across from yours. Not directly oppositeâthat would be too obvious. But just close enough that he can sneak glances without it being weird. Probably.
He flips open a textbook. Doesnât read a single word. Just peeks at you over the top of the page like a little nerdy menace in disguise. Every time you adjust your hair or furrow your brows or smile faintly at something you read, itâs like heâs been hit in the chest. Repeatedly.
Then you look up.
He freezes. Straightens up. Pretends to be deeply fascinated by a diagram of a particle collider. You blink. Tilt your head a little. Thenâyou pull your headphones out. âGojo Satoru, right?â
He almost drops his pen. âUhâyeah. Thatâs me.â
âYouâve been staring at page fifteen for like⊠twenty minutes.â
He blinks. Looks down at his book. Flips it to page thirty-seven. âRight. Yeah. Thatâs, uhâintentional.â
You smile. âSure it is.â
He wants to melt into the carpet.
You go back to your notes, sliding your headphones on again like itâs nothing. But that smile doesnât leave your face. And Gojoâs certain heâll be thinking about it for the rest of the week.
-
You're sitting under the tree near the physics building, nose buried in your laptop, headphones on, pretending you donât feel someone staring at you. You do. Of course you do.
You glance up. Heâs there.
Gojo, the cocky know-it-all from class. Still in that damned sweater vest, hair all floofy like he just rolled out of a nap and somehow made it fashion. Heâs holding a coffee cup with one hand and awkwardly adjusting his glasses with the other, pretending like he just happened to pass by. He absolutely did not.
You blink. He panics.
âOh. Uhâhey,â he says, and it comes out a little too loud, a little too fast, like his vocal cords staged a mutiny the second your eyes met.
You slide your headphones down. âHi.â
Thereâs a long pause. He fidgets with the sleeve of his shirt, eyes flicking everywhere but your face now. âYou, uh⊠You always sit here?â
You raise an eyebrow. âDuring this exact 30-minute window between classes? Yeah. Kinda my thing.â
âOh,â he says, and laughsânervously. âCoolcoolcool. I justâuh. I just thought you looked like someone who enjoys differential equations under tree shade.â
You squint. âYouâre making fun of me.â
âWhat? No! IâI do that too. All the time. Big tree guy. Huge⊠leaf enjoyer.â
Thereâs a beat of silence. You bite back a laugh. âYou good?â
âI was,â he mumbles, almost to himself, then louder: âYeah! Iâm totallyâso good. Amazing, even.â
You give him a look. He clears his throat and tries again. âListen, I didnât get your name earlier, and thatâs kind of a crime in several countries, probably. SoâŠâ
You pause, then finally tell him.
He repeats it under his breath like a prayer. âPretty.â
You tilt your head at him, teasing. âSo⊠was there a reason you were looking at me in class? Or is staring at people just part of your regular schedule?â
He flinches. Like, visibly. Adjusts his glasses again even though theyâre already perfectly in place. âStaring is a strong word.â
âYou choked on air.â
He groans, half-laughing, half-dying inside. âOkayâyeah, that⊠may have happened. But in my defense, I didnât know I was capable of being that flustered until you walked in.â
Your eyebrows lift. âYou were flustered?â
âFatally,â he replies without missing a beat. âIt was the most embarrassing moment of my entire academic career. And I once accidentally called a professor âdadâ in front of the entire cohort, so.â
You snort. âNo you didnât.â
âUnfortunately, I did. That man never looked at me the same again.â
You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. Thereâs something kind of charming about the contrastâhow sharp and smug he is in the lecture hall, then how weirdly dorky he gets the second he talks to you.
Gojo notices the smile. He lights up. âThatâs a win, right?â he grins. âThat counts as a win?â
You roll your eyes. âBarely.â
âStill counts,â he sings, rocking back on his heels. âYou like coffee?â
You blink. âThatâs random.â
âI just thoughtâmaybe next time I bring one, I could bring you one too. You know. If weâre both going to be professionally loitering under this tree during our thirty-minute window.â
You pretend to think about it. âWhat kind?â
âWhatever kind makes you smile again.â
You pause. Okay. That was smooth.
You look away, just for a second, to hide the grin threatening to take over your whole face.
âYouâre annoying,â you mutter.
He beams. âYouâre not the first to say that.â
You part ways not long after, the building just a few steps ahead, and Gojoâs still standing where you left himâhands in his pockets, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, hair gleaming like spun silver in the sunlight.
You steal one last glance as you walk away, andâyep. Heâs still watching you.
Still smiling like he knows something you donât.
And just when you think youâve escaped unscathed, you hear his voice call after you: âBy the way, if you keep looking at me like that, I will ask for your number next time!â
You donât turn around. You canât. Your cheeks are already on fire.
But he laughs, bright and victorious, and you know he saw the way you tripped on the curb a second later. Cocky bastard.
And yet⊠youâre smiling the whole walk to class.
-
Youâre seated a few rows back this time. Thought it might help with the whole not staring directly at Gojo Satoru like he invented astrophysics problem.
It doesnât.
Not when heâs in his usual seat up front, one leg crossed over the other, sleeves pushed to his elbows like heâs here to work. Glasses low on his nose. A pen between his fingers that he keeps spinningâcasually, like itâs no big deal heâs also kind of stupidly good at everything.
The professor drones on at the front of the room, explaining quantum field theory, but youâre only half-listening.
Because Gojo raises his hand. Again.
âActually, thatâs not entirely accurate,â he says, voice way too smooth for a know-it-all. âIf you factor in the renormalization group flow, the outcome shifts entirely. I can show you if you want.â
She blinks. âI⊠well. Thatâs a fair point, Gojo.â
He grins, leans back like he didnât just out-nerd a tenured physicist, and thenâthenâhe looks at you. Like he knows youâre watching.
And you are. You so are.
Gojo tilts his head slightly, mouth curling into that infuriating little smirk as he mouths: Impressed yet?
You look away instantly.
You are. Youâre very impressed. Unfortunately. But youâre not gonna let him know that. Not yet.
So instead, you raise your hand. And when the professor calls on you, you challenge his answer.
Gojo looks like you just proposed.
-
Class ends and students start filing out, a low murmur of backpacks zipping and chairs scraping filling the air. Youâre casually packing up your things, pretending not to notice the way someone is lingering by the door.
He shouldâve left already. But noâheâs leaning against the wall like itâs a conscious choice, not that heâs waiting for you or anything. Totally not that.
You sling your bag over your shoulder and head out. You donât even get five steps into the hallway before you hearâ
âSoâŠâ
You turn.
Gojoâs standing there, hands in his pockets, lips parted like heâs still catching his breath. His glasses are a little crooked. Probably because heâs been running that hand through his hair again. He straightens up when you face him.
âThat was⊠impressive,â he says, rubbing the back of his neck. âLike, really impressive.â
You smile. âThanks. You were good too, by the way.â
He blinks. âGood? Iâgood? Thatâs it?â
âYup.â You start walking. âTry harder next time.â
Thereâs a pause. And then he jogs up beside you, looking equal parts offended and delighted. âOh, okay. So thatâs how it is?â he teases, grinning. âYouâre one of those girls.â
âWhat girls?â
âThe ones who enjoy crushing the academic dreams of sweet, helpless nerds like me.â
You give him a look. âHelpless?â
âDevastatingly,â he says, deadpan.
You snort. âYou literally made a PhD cry last week.â
âShe recovered.â
âYou sent her a fruit basket.â
âSee? I care.â
You try to hold back your laughter but fail miserably, and he lights up like you just handed him the Nobel Prize.
You turn the corner toward the next building, Satoru trailing beside you like a very tall, mildly wounded puppy.
Heâs oddly quietâhands still shoved in his pockets, eyes flicking your way every few seconds like heâs waiting for a verdict. It's kind of adorable.
You stop walking. âCome on,â you say, already veering toward the campus cafĂ©. âIâll buy you a coffee.â
Satoru blinks. Twice. âL-like⊠like a date?â
You snort, rolling your eyes. âWoah there. Hold your horses, bud. Iâm doing it so maybe youâll stop moping around.â
He gaspsâactually gaspsâhands flying to his chest in mock offense. âI am not moping!â
âYou literally sighed ten times during that walk.â
âI was brooding. Itâs different.â
You raise an eyebrow. âYou pouted when I said you were just âgoodâ in class.â
âIâm a sensitive soul!â
âYouâre insufferable.â
âBut charming,â he says quickly, catching up to walk beside you again, shoulder bumping yours. âUndeniably charming.â
You hum, lips twitching. âSure. Letâs go with that.â
He grins, all pearly teeth and pretty-boy smugness, practically floating now. And just as you're about to step into the cafĂ©, you hear him mutter something behind you, half to himselfâ
âIâm so gonna make you fall in love with me.â
You turn slightly. âWhat was that?â
âNothing!â he chirps, already holding the door open for you like a gentleman. âLadies first!â
-
He watches you from the tiny round table by the window, chin propped in his hand, glasses slipping a little down the bridge of his nose. Youâre standing at the counter, reading over the menu with a furrow between your brows like youâre solving quantum equations instead of choosing between oat milk or soy.
He could watch you forever. Not in a creepy wayâokay, maybe a little creepyâbut in that dumb, enamored kind of way where even the way you tap your fingers against the counter makes his heart do this weird flip.
You step up, voice soft but certain when you order. Vanilla latte, extra shot, light foam.
He files it away instantly. Vanilla. Extra shot. Light foam. Heâs going to remember that forever. He could write a thesis on it.
Your name is called, and he watches the way your eyes crinkle a little when you thank the barista. When you turn around, drinks in hand, and start walking back toward him, he panicsâbecause suddenly heâs hyper-aware of how dumb he must look just staring.
He quickly looks down at his phone screen, pretending to scroll through something important. Itâs literally just his calculator app open from earlier. Nothingâs calculated.Â
You slide his drink toward him when you sit. He doesnât even care what it is. You couldâve handed him gasoline and he wouldâve sipped it happily.
âThanks,â he says casuallyâway too casually for someone whose brain short-circuited the moment you looked at him.
And then you take a sip of yours, and he blurts it out without thinking:
âYouâre sweet.â
You blink. âHuh?â
He clears his throat. âThe drink, I mean. Itâs sweet.â
Smooth. So smooth.
You squint at him suspiciously. He hides behind his cup and takes a sip.
You're mid-sip of your latte when he says itâcompletely out of nowhere, eyes locked on you like he's trying to memorize your entire existence.
"You're kinda pretty when youâre annoyed, yâknow?"
You almost choke. "What?"
He leans forward, resting his chin in his palm, grinning like he just cracked the code to the universe. âJust an observation. Purely academic.â
"Youâre impossible," you mutter, eyes darting awayâand he sees it, the blush creeping up your neck.
And thatâs it. Thatâs his victory.
He leans back in his chair, smug as hell. âYou're blushing.â
"I'm not."
âOh no, donât worry. I think itâs cute,â he says, like itâs a fact in a textbook.
You throw a sugar packet at him. He dodges with a laugh.
"You trying to kill me? And here I thought this was a date."
You give him a look. âItâs not a date.â
He shrugs, grabbing your drink and stealing a sip like it is. âCouldâve fooled me.â
You snatch your cup back, but itâs too lateâheâs already smacked his lips like a wine critic.
âAre you always this annoying?â you ask, sipping your drink now.
He shrugs. âOnly when I like someone.â
You freeze for half a second. And he sees that too.
Your voice is careful, teasing but cautious. âSo you like me now?â
He hums, looking away dramatically, as if heâs pondering some great cosmic truth. âI donât know⊠Maybe. Youâre cute when youâre flustered. And when youâre mean to me. And when you roll your eyes. Andââ
âOkay, stop.â
âNope. You gave me coffee. Iâm powered up now. Canât shut me up.â
You groan, slumping in your seat with the most dramatic expression you can manage.
He grins wide, and that smug sparkle in his eyes softens, just a bit. âBut seriously,â he says, voice quieter now, âI like talking to you.â
And that shuts you up for a beat.
You meet his eyes again, and this time, thereâs no teasing, no cocky grinâjust sincerity, wrapped in dorky charm. ââŠI like talking to you too,â you admit, soft.
And just like that, he lights up all over again.
-
You both exit the cafĂ©, coffees in hand, the air warmer than before but still crisp. The sunâs out, and so is Gojoâs smileâuntil you stop at the sidewalk and glance down at your phone.
âShit,â you mutter. âIâve got class right now.â
His face drops instantly. âWaitâalready? But I havenât even finished annoying you yet.â
You laugh, nudging his arm with your elbow. âYouâve done plenty in the last thirty minutes, trust me.â
He exhales dramatically, shoulders sagging as he pouts. âThis is tragic. A real loss for humanity.â
âDonât be so dramatic.â
âBut I miss you already,â he says. âWhoâs gonna listen to my unfiltered genius now?â
You raise a brow, backing away slowly. âIâm sure youâll find a new victim. See you, Gojo.â
âWaitâwait, when do I see you again?â he calls after you, half-joking, half-not.
You shoot him a smile over your shoulder. âYouâll live.â
And as you disappear into the crowd, he just stands there for a moment, lips pressed together, watching you go.
ââŠNo I wonât.â
-
You donât think much of it when Gojo catches up to you outside the lecture hall again. Heâs chatty as usual, teasing you about your keychain, dramatically proclaiming how he almost tripped over a squirrel on the way here, all while walking a half-step closer than necessary. Same old Gojo stuff.
You head toward your usual seat, a few rows back from the frontâjust enough distance to not get called on every two minutes. Youâre used to watching him breeze right past, to the very first row, like heâs the poster boy for "overachiever of the year."
So when you slide into your seat and Gojo casually takes the one right next to you, backpack dropping with a thud at his feet, you do a double take.
âWhat are you doing?â you whisper.
He only shrugs, flashing that annoyingly pretty smile. âJust felt like switching it up today.â
Youâre not the only one caught off guard. A few students glance over and someone even nudges their friend like this is newsworthy.
Because Gojo Satoru doesnât switch it up. Heâs the guy who color codes his notes and brings a backup calculator. But now heâs here, sitting so close that his knee bumps yours beneath the table and stays there.
You try to focus when class beginsâbut it's hard when he's right there beside you, radiating warmth. Every now and then, his fingers graze your thigh beneath the deskâcasual, like itâs nothing. Like itâs everything.
You donât look at him. But you know heâs grinning. And just when you're starting to think this canât get more distractingâ
âBefore we end today,â the professor says, âIâm assigning a group project. Pairs, selected at random.â
Your stomach sinks. You glance at Gojo, whoâs already turned toward the front again, fingers drumming lightly on the desk. Like he knows.
You hear names being rattled off. A list of partnerships. Thenâ
âAnd lastly, Gojo Satoru andâŠâ A pause. âYou.â
Silence. You blink. Gojo leans back with a loud, satisfied sigh and stretches his arms behind his head.
âOh no,â you mutter, already dreading whatâs coming.
âOh yes,â he says, grinning so wide it should be illegal.
-
You step out of the lecture hall with Gojo hot on your heels, practically bouncing with excitement. Heâs still beaming about the professorâs decision like he just won the lottery.
âThis is fate,â he says, catching up to walk beside you. âWeâre gonna be the best pair in that class. I mean, youâve got the brains and the beauty, and Iâve got the everything else.â
You snort. âYouâre not serious.â
âOh, Iâm dead serious.â He adjusts the strap of his backpack with dramatic flair. âThis is the beginning of a legendary academic alliance.â
You roll your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. âSo, when do we start this legendary alliance of yours?â
He doesnât miss a beat. âThought youâd never ask. I was thinking⊠we could cash in that coffee date you promised me. Use the time to plan out our project. Very responsible. Very scholarly.â
You shoot him a look. âItâs not a date.â
âSure,â he says easily, eyes twinkling. âA purely educational rendezvous at a cozy cafĂ© where we might happen to sit close enough to accidentally brush knees again.â
You groan. âFine. But weâre actually working on the project this time.â
âNo promises,â he grins.
And you hate how you laugh at that.
-
Youâre tucked into the booth of a cafĂ©, a half-empty cup of coffee sitting forgotten as you scribble into your notebook. Across from you, Gojoâs talking a mile a minuteâbouncing between theories, concepts, and potential outlines for your project with the kind of ease that only someone dangerously smart could pull off.
And the worst part? Every word out of his mouth actually makes sense.
You glance up at him, brows lifting slightly. âOkay, that last one? Thatâs actually⊠really solid.â
He beams. âRight? I knew youâd see the brilliance.â
You shake your head with a small laugh. âI hate to say it, but Iâm impressed.â
Gojo leans forward, resting his chin on his hand with a smug grin. âCareful now. Compliments like that might go to my head.â
You ignore him, scribbling something down beside his last idea. The two of you work like that for a whileâyou writing, him throwing ideas around and occasionally sipping from his drink. And before you know it, youâve got the skeleton of a full project mapped out.
He stretches his arms above his head, shirt riding up just enough to be distracting. âWhew. Honestly? I didnât expect to get this much done.â
You close your notebook, tapping your pen against the table. âWe could start putting together the first draft later this week.â
Gojo nods. âYeah, sure. We could work at my place or somethââ
You cut him off, tone light. âYou could come to mine.â
He freezes. Blinks. âY-your place?â
You smile sweetly. âMhm.â
He stares at you, cheeks tinged pink behind his glasses. âIâyeah. Yeah, totally. Your place. Great idea. Love that. Very efficient. Extremely platonic and professional.â
You laugh. âYouâre cute when you malfunction.â
âI donât malfunction,â he mumbles.
You donât believe that for a second.
Heâs trying so hard to play it cool, but his brain short-circuited the moment you suggested your place. His legs bounce under the table, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt like itâll ground him somehow.
You lean back in your seat, arms crossed as you observe him with a smug little smile. âYou alright there, genius?â
Satoru clears his throat, adjusting his glasses even though theyâre not crooked. âMe? Totally fine. Just recalibrating. You know, like⊠spatially. Mentally.â
You blink at him. âUh-huh.â
He runs a hand through his snowy hair, the tips poking out in every direction like even they are flustered. âI just wasnât expecting that, is all.â
âYou werenât expecting me to suggest we work on the project?â
âNoâI mean, yesâbut at your place?â He lifts his hands, palms up like heâs holding the concept of your apartment in the air. âDo you even realize what that implies?â
You tilt your head. âThat I trust you to not snoop through my things?â
He looks offended. âI would never snoop. I am a gentleman.â
âOkay, gentleman,â you say, standing and grabbing your bag. âThen bring snacks when you come over.â
That shuts him up real quick. He stares up at you, blinking as you sling your bag over your shoulder and give him one last little smirk. âOh,â you add casually, âand maybe wear those glasses again.â
His jaw drops.
You donât wait to see his reaction. You just turn and walk off with the smuggest little sway to your step, leaving Gojo sitting thereâcompletely malfunctioning, heart doing gymnastics in his chest.
He presses a hand over it, eyes wide. âOh god.â
-
[gojo]: hey. hey hey hey
[gojo]: when u said ur place⊠u meant like. like ur apartment right
[gojo]: like ur home. with walls. and couches. and stuff
[you]: i am aware of what my apartment contains, yes.
[gojo]: just checking đ
[gojo]: do i need to bring a textbook? or will u be tutoring me using sheer intimidation alone
[you]: i thought i was the one taking notes last time?
[gojo]: yeah but you intimidated me into being smart. thatâs powerful
[gojo]: anyway whatâs ur address đ
[you]: [sends location]
[you]: and bring snacks like i said. iâm not letting you in if you show up empty handed
[gojo]: what kind of snacks
[you]: surprise me
[gojo]: âŠ
[gojo]: you have NO idea what youâve just done
[you]: satoru itâs literally just snacks
[gojo]: and now iâm overthinking EVERYTHING. chips? chocolate? do i bring a charcuterie board???
[gojo]: i need you to know iâm taking this Very Seriously.
[you]: iâm sure you are.
[gojo]: đ€ just u wait. iâll be the best study buddy youâve ever had.Â
[you]: is this your way of flirting or are you always like this
[gojo]: âŠyes
-
You open the door and there he isâstanding on your doorstep. His arms are full: a tote bag slung over his shoulder, a drink carrier in one hand, and a plastic bag filled with snacks in the other.
âYou said surprise you,â he announces, stepping in. âSo I brought everything. Chips. Cookies. Gummy worms. Protein bars, because balance. And boba. I panicked.â
You raise an eyebrow. âYou brought a buffet.â
âI wanted to impress you,â he says, dead serious, slipping his shoes off at the door.
You stifle a laugh and step aside. âCome on in.â
Your place is cozy, warm lighting humming softly. Gojoâs eyes flit around like heâs taking mental notes of every detailâyour throw pillows, your bookshelf, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air. You pretend not to notice how he seems ten times quieter than usual.
âSit,â you say, motioning to the couch.Â
He plops down next to you, thigh brushing yours, and pulls out his notes. âSo. I was thinking we model the phase shift in the magnetic field usingâwaitâwait, are you actually listening or just staring at my mouth?â
You blink at him. âI was listening. You just talk a lot.â
He leans in, smirking. âBut you were also staring.â
You swat his arm. âFocus.â
âYes, maâam,â he mumbles, hiding a very pleased grin.
As you two dive into the project, itâs surprisingly productive. Heâs brilliantâhe rattles off concepts with such ease that youâre genuinely impressed. You ask questions. He answers. You scribble notes while he paces your living room barefoot, gesturing wildly as he explains advanced equations like theyâre childrenâs bedtime stories. Heâs in his element. And kind of hot, too, in a completely nerdy, passionate way.
âYouâre really smart,â you say eventually, mid-note-taking.
He freezes. Turns to you slowly. âSay that again.â
You raise an eyebrow. âI said youâre smartââ
âNo no,â he says, dropping onto the couch beside you again. âSay it slower. Maybe into my ear this time.â
You laugh, shoving him gently. âGod, youâre impossible.â
âAnd yet you invited me over.â His voice drops just slightly, eyes glittering behind those thick-rimmed glasses. âKinda makes me think you like having me around.â
Your heart skips. âMaybe I do.â
He stares for a momentâreally staresâand then gives you the softest smile. âThen I guess Iâm not leaving until we finish the whole project. Top marks, remember?â
âTop marks,â you echo.
When your hands brush reaching for the same pen, you both freeze.
You recover first, pulling your hand back slightly. âYou can have it,â you say, trying to keep your voice casual.
Gojo, stubborn as ever, immediately shakes his head. âNo, itâs alright. You can have it.â
âNo, seriously, take it.â
âI insist.â
âYouâre being annoying.â
âYou like when Iâm annoying,â he says with a cheeky grin.
You roll your eyes and shove the pen towards him. âJust take it before I stab you with it.â
There's a beat of silence where you both just stare at each otherâawkward, heated, too aware of how close youâre sitting. You can feel the air shift between you, something lingering and soft.
Gojo clears his throat loudly, leaning back against the couch with exaggerated nonchalance. âUhâsnack break?â he says, voice a little too high-pitched to be smooth.
You bite back a smile, grateful for the out. âYeah. Snack break.â
He springs up like heâs been given a second life, muttering something under his breath about chips and cookies while you try very hard not to laugh.
Gojo rummages through your cabinets like he lives there, narrating dramatically under his breath. "Let's see... we have some chips, half a granola bar... oh-ho, instant ramen! A true feast fit for a queen."
You lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with an amused smile. "You're so dramatic."
He whirls around, holding the ramen packet in one hand like itâs a sacred artifact. "Dramatic? No, no, this is culinary excellence, sweetheart."
You snort, covering your laugh with the back of your hand. "You're about to microwave that."
"Precisely." He winks at you. "Modern problems require modern solutions."
You roll your eyes but grab a cup, filling it with water and handing it to him. Your fingers brush when he takes it, and maybe youâre imagining it, but he seems to pause for half a second longer than necessary, fingers brushing yours again on purpose.
"I'll make you the best cup ramen of your life," he declares proudly, tossing it into the microwave and punching in the time.
"Bold of you to assume I have low standards," you tease.
He leans an elbow on the counter, cocking his head at you with a lazy, smug grin. "Again. You invited me over. I'd say your standards are excellent."
Your cheeks flame immediately. "Shut up."
He just laughs, tossing his messy hair out of his eyes, looking at you like youâre the only thing that matters in the room.
The microwave dings and Gojo gasps. "It's time."
He pulls the ramen out like itâs a precious treasure, dramatically blowing on it before holding it out to you.
"Milady," he says in a terrible fake accent, "your meal."
Youâre laughing too hard to even be annoyed. You take the cup from him, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
-
You both make your way to the couch after the world's most gourmet snack break (according to Gojo), slumping down with your legs tucked under you while he scrolls endlessly through your streaming options.
"Pick something," you say, poking his thigh with your toe.
"But it's so hard," he whines dramatically. "What if I pick something that doesn't match our vibe?" He flashes you a sly, boyish smile, the kind that makes your heart lurch even when you don't want it to.
You roll your eyes, tossing a throw pillow at him. "Just pick something, drama queen."
He catches the pillow effortlessly, still grinning, and finally settles on some random romcomâprobably because he thinks it'll impress you with how emotionally available he is. Not even five minutes in, he does the whole exaggerated stretch and casual arm drop behind you. Textbook.
You give him a look. "Subtle."
He just beams, smug and utterly unbothered. "Thanks. Been practicing."
You shake your head, laughing under your breath, but you don't move away. Instead, you let the warmth of his arm hovering behind you linger there, like a secret.
You both slowly ease into a lazy sort of comfort, shoulders brushing every so often, knees bumping when one of you shifts. Heâs fidgety, thoughâtapping his fingers against the cushion, sneaking glances at you when he thinks you won't notice.
You notice. You just pretend not to.
Time blurs, the movie forgotten as conversation picks up again. Dumb stuff. Stories about professors, weird classmates, Gojo ranting about a physics experiment gone wrong because "the equipment was stupid, not me," and you laughing so hard your stomach hurts. At some point you realize how late itâs gotten.
You glance at your phone. "Shit, itâs almost midnight."
Gojo pouts dramatically. "Nooo, donât kick me out."
"You have class at eight tomorrow," you remind him, stretching your arms above your head. "Donât you dare blame me when you fall asleep in class."
He sighs, long and exaggerated, standing up anyway. "Fine. But just so you know, leaving is painful for me. Agony, even."
You snort, pushing yourself off the couch. "You'll live, Satoru."
He lingers by the door, bouncing on his heels like he wants to say something. And then he blurts, all in one breath: "Do you wanna go on a date with me?"
You blink, caught off guard. "A coffee date?"
"No, no!" He waves his hands frantically. "Likeâa real date. A good one. A fancy one. With food and everything!"
His voice goes a little desperate toward the end, as if you're seconds from rejecting him.
You cross your arms, fighting back a laugh. "Are you begging, Gojo?"
"Yes," he says instantly, with zero shame.
You tap your chin, pretending to think it over just to mess with him. He looks genuinely tortured, hands clutched in front of him like he's praying.
Finally, you shrug. "Alright. You can take me out."
The way his whole face lights up could rival the sun. "YESâYES, OH MY GODâokay, okay, I wonât screw this up, swear on my honorâ"
You laugh, pushing him lightly toward the door. "Text me the details, Romeo."
Heâs still beaming when he stumbles out, waving giddily.
You shake your head, grinning to yourself as you shut the door behind him.
-
You stand in front of the mirror, arms crossed, glaring at the mountain of clothes on your bed.
Itâs ridiculous. It's Gojo Satoru, for godâs sakeâthe same man who wears sweater vests unironicallyâso why are you panicking about what to wear?
You pick up a red dress, stare at it, and toss it aside. Too much.
A simple blouse and jeans? Too casual.
You want to look good. Scratch thatâyou want to make his brain short-circuit when he sees you.
Finally, after what feels like hours of spiraling, you settle on a black off-shoulder dress that hugs your figure flatteringly. Itâs something that feels like youâsimple but pretty, enough to make your heart skip when you catch your reflection.
Right as youâre fixing the final touches, your phone buzzes.
[gojo đ]: here <3
[gojo đ]: try not to fall in love with me too fast ok
You snort under your breath. Too late, you think, heart thudding faster than youâd ever admit.
You grab your bag and head outside, spotting him.Â
You almost don't recognize him at first.
Gone are the thick-rimmed glasses and the nerdy sweater vest he usually sports in class. Tonight, Gojo Satoru is dressed in a simple white button-upâsleeves rolled up to his forearmsâand black dress pants that cling just right to his lean frame. His snowy hair is still messy, like he ran his hands through it a million times, but somehow, it works. He looks effortlessly good. Stupidly good.
And when he spots you, he nearly trips over his own feet.
"Hey," you greet, a little breathless from how unfairly good he looks.
"Hey," he says back, voice cracking halfway through. He coughs, fumbling to form literal words, cheeks flushed. "You, uhâyou lookâwow."
You laugh softly as he practically skips toward you, offering you his arm with an exaggerated flourish. "Shall we, m'lady?"
You roll your eyes but take his arm anyway, feeling the warmth of him through the fabric of his shirt.
He leans down to whisper in your ear, cocky and sweet all at once: "Just so you know, I'm totally gonna brag about this to my future grandkids."
You elbow him lightly in the side, and he laughs, the happiest sound you've heard all day.
You laugh softly, letting go of him to get into the car, and he stands there for a second like heâs been shot.
When he finally gets himself together and slides into the driverâs seat, he sneaks a look at you. "Youâreâ" he starts, then cuts himself off, shaking his head like he canât believe his own luck. "Perfect," he finishes under his breath.
You pretend not to hear it, hiding your smile as he pulls out onto the roadâone hand casually on the wheel, the other fiddling nervously with his collar.
Neither of you says much at first. The radio hums softly between you.
But every few seconds, you catch him sneaking glances your way, grinning like this is already the best date ever.
-
You recognize the place immediately.
Itâs a beautiful rooftop restaurantâone youâd mentioned wanting to try in passing, months ago, when a friend posted about it on social media. You hadnât even realized he was listening.
The fact that he remembered makes your heart swell.
Satoru pulls into the valet line, hands slightly fidgety on the steering wheel. He throws a quick, nervous glance at you, like heâs scared you wonât like it.
"You, uh, mentioned it once," he says, almost shyly. "Thought it'd be better than, y'know... coffee again."
Your chest tightens in the softest, sweetest way. You open your mouth, ready to tease him, but the look on his faceâthe earnest hope in his eyesâmakes you stop. You just smile instead.
"Itâs perfect," you say quietly.
And the way he beams after that? God, you almost have to look away. Too much.
He practically leaps out of the car the second it's parked, sprinting around to your side to open the door for you. Exceptâhe miscalculates the timing and almost slams it into his own shin.
"Owâshitâ" he mutters under his breath, recovering quickly and yanking it open like nothing happened. He straightens up, all suave-like, grinning down at you.
"Milady," he says dramatically, offering you his hand.
You roll your eyes but take it anyway, letting him help you out of the car. His hand is warmâso much bigger than yoursâand he doesnât let go right away. In fact, he keeps holding it as you walk toward the entrance, fingers intertwined like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
And you donât pull away. If anything, you squeeze a little tighter.
Inside, the restaurant is even more beautiful than you imaginedâglittering fairy lights, soft music, a gentle breeze whispering across the rooftop.
Gojo glances down at you, smiling like you personally hung the stars. "Ready for the best date of your life?" he teases, but thereâs a nervous edge to itâlike your opinion actually, genuinely matters to him.
You bite your lip to hold back a grin.
"Lead the way, Romeo."
And he does. Hand in hand, heart thundering, wearing the dopiest smile imaginable.
Dinner with Gojo isâŠeffortless.
For once, he isnât tripping over his words or cracking half a dozen stupid jokes just to fill the silence. Heâs confidentânaturally confidentâin a way that makes your heart stutter. Itâs like all the nervous energy he usually carries around you has melted away tonight, leaving behind nothing but the real Satoru.
He leans back in his chair, the sleeves of his white button-up rolled up to his elbows, flashing the veins in his forearms as he lifts his wine glass to his lips.
Thereâs a lazy smirk playing on his mouth as he listens to you talk, bright blue eyes never straying from your face.
"Youâre staring," you tease after a moment, pretending to inspect the menu like youâre not burning under his gaze.
"Yeah," he says simply, not even bothering to deny it. "Youâre beautiful. Iâm allowed to stare."
You nearly choke on your water.
Recovering quickly, you raise a brow. "Smooth," you deadpan, setting your glass down.
He chuckles lowly, the sound curling around your spine like smoke. "Only because itâs true," he says, and the sheer casualty of it has your cheeks heating up.
And the worst part? You canât even pretend youâre unaffectedâbecause he sees it. The way your lips twitch, the way your eyes flicker away for just a second.
"So," you say quickly, trying to regain control of the conversation, "when youâre not busy terrorizing professors and making girls swoon, what do you do for fun, Gojo?"
He hums, pretending to think about it, tapping his fork against his lip.
"Hmm...think about you mostly," he says airily.
You whip your napkin at him across the table, and he lets out a bark of laughter, catching it midair like a reflex.
The two of you fall into easy conversation after thatâbantering, laughing, throwing subtle (and not-so-subtle) jabs at each other. It feels so natural that you almost forget this is your first real date.
Thereâs a momentâbetween courses, when youâre both picking at the remains of dessertâthat you catch him just looking at you again. No teasing. No smirk. Just watching. Soft, and a little awed.
You shift slightly, suddenly aware of the intimacy stretching between you. "What?" you murmur.
He blinks, as if waking up. Shakes his head, smiling faintly.
"Nothing," he says, voice a little rough. "Youâre justâreally fucking gorgeous."
Itâs so sincere that you donât even know what to say back. You just look at him, feeling your chest tighten in that dangerous, dangerous way again.
-
The drive back is quietânot uncomfortable. JustâŠfull.
Full of things unsaid, full of that warmth thatâs been simmering between you both all night.
Gojo parks in front of your place, turning off the engine, but neither of you make a move to get out right away. You just sit there, the hum of the night wrapping around you, the silence speaking louder than words ever could.
He turns in his seat slightly, arm draped over the steering wheel, looking at you with that soft, lopsided smile he reserves only for you now.
"I had a really good time," he says quietly, like itâs a secret meant only for you.
You smile back, feeling something sweet and dangerous unfurl in your chest. "Me too," you murmur, fingers twisting slightly in your lap.
The moment stretchesâcomfortable, a little electricâand you know you should say goodnight. You should.
So you finally reach for the door handle, pulling it openâAnd then, without thinking, you turn back.
Leaning in quick, before you can psych yourself out, you press a soft kiss to his cheek.
Itâs light, barely a brush, but Gojo freezes like youâve just electrocuted him.
You donât wait for his reaction. Your face burning, you practically stumble out of the car, slamming the door shut behind you with a muttered, "Goodnight!"
Through the window, you catch a glimpse of him: Wide-eyed, stunned, a hand lifted dazedly to his cheek like he can't believe what just happened.
And then he laughsâa breathless, giddy sound that you swear you can hear even as you rush up the steps to your door, heart hammering like crazy.
Inside the car, Satoru slumps back against the seat, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. "God," he mutters to himself, still touching the spot where you kissed him, "Iâm so fucked."
-
Youâre lying in bed when your phone buzzes in your hand. Heart still racing from that impulsive kiss you planted on his cheek, you scramble to pick it up, thumbs fumbling.
[gojo đ]: next time, youâre not getting away with just a kiss on the cheek.
You nearly drop your phone.
Oh. Oh.
Your stomach flips. Your face burns. And even though you want to play it cool, you canât fight the smile tugging at your lips. You bite your lip, thumbs hovering over the keyboard before finally typing back:
[you]: is that a threat, satoru?
The reply comes almost instantly, like he was waiting for you:
[gojo đ]: no baby, thatâs a promise.
You stare at the screen, heart hammering against your ribs.Â
Baby. God, youâre so done for.
And like he hasnât already made you melt enough tonight, he sends another message:
[gojo đ]: get some sleep, prettyÂ
You bury your face into your pillow with a squeal, kicking your feet into the mattress. You type back quickly before you lose your nerve:
[you]: goodnight, satoru. try not to miss me too much.
And a few seconds later:
[gojo đ]: too late.
[you]: careful, satoru. you're sounding real desperate rn.
You barely have time to smirk before he hits you with:
[gojo đ]: desperate?
[gojo đ]: for you? always.
And like he knows youâre losing it, he sends one more:
[gojo đ]: sleep tight, gorgeous.
[gojo đ]: dream of me.
[gojo đ]: i'll definitely be dreaming of you. (and if i wake up hard, it's your fault btw)
You scream into your pillow.
Your hands tremble as you type your final text:
[you]: sweet dreams, toru <3
[you]: maybe next time you wonât have to just dream ;)
And the moment you send it, you shut your phone off and toss it across the bed because thereâs absolutely no way youâre surviving if he replies. (He does. Five seconds later.)
[gojo đ]: fucking hell.
-
Satoruâs still staring at your last text. Eyes wide. Mouth parted.
maybe next time you wonât have to just dream
He drops his phone onto the bed with a dull thud, dragging both hands down his face.
"Goddammit," he breathes, tipping his head back against the headboard.
Youâre gonna kill him. Youâre actually gonna kill him.
He sits there for a good minute, struggling to breathe normally, heart hammering against his ribs, cock already half-hard just from that one text. (Just from a text. He's so far gone it's not even funny.)
"Pull it together, Gojo," he mutters, raking a hand through his messy hair.
But the moment he squeezes his eyes shut, itâs you he seesâsmiling up at him all coy, leaning in close, whispering things in that pretty voice you have, like you knew exactly what kind of mess you were leaving him in.
You did. You knew exactly what you were doing.
He groans, thunking his head back harder against the headboard, biting down a low, frustrated sound as your words loop endlessly in his brain.
Youâre driving him insane.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he shoves his sleep shorts down just enough and wraps a hand around his cock, cursing under his breath when he realizes how hard he already is.
Itâs wrong. He knows itâs wrongâyou havenât even properly kissed yet. But god, you're just so, so perfect. So effortlessly beautiful.Â
He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, his hand moving slowly, pretending itâs you insteadâyour hand wrapped around him, your body pressed close, your breath ghosting over his ear as you whisper all the filthy things he can barely even let himself imagine.
"Fuck," he hisses through his teeth, hips bucking up into his fist, desperate for more.
He canât help it.
Youâre in his head. Youâre under his skin. And heâs not even sure he wants to be saved.
His thighs tense, muscles flexing as he fists himself harder, chasing that high like a man starved. The sound of his breathâharsh and brokenâfills the room. Your name nearly falls from his lips like a prayer.
And when he finally comes, itâs with a soft, bitten-off moan, warmth spilling over his knuckles.Â
His mind blanks for a long, dizzy secondânothing but the feeling of you filling every corner of him.
He collapses back against the pillows, breathless. Staring at the ceiling like heâs just been fucking wrecked. Sweaty. Panting. His hand sticky and his soul halfway out of his body.
He drags a hand down his face again, groaning. "...I'm so fucking screwed," Satoru mutters to himself, glaring uselessly at the ceiling like itâs personally responsible for his downfall.
-
The sunlightâs barely filtering through his blinds when Satoru stirs awake, messy hair flattened against his forehead, phone slipping from his chest with a quiet thunk onto the mattress.
Groaning, he blindly pats around for it, eyes still crusted shut from sleep.
When he finally blinks them open, he sees the last thing he remembers: your text. The text that ruined his entire night.
He slaps a hand over his face and drags it down slowly, mumbling, âIâm going to hell.â
But because heâs an idiotâan idiot in loveâhe still unlocks his phone, thumbs hovering nervously over the screen.
He needs to text you. Needs to act normal. Needs to pretend he didnât almost cry last night over how fucking good it felt imagining you touching him.
He taps out a message, agonizing over every word:
[you]: good morning :) hope you slept well!
He stares at it for a second longer, wondering if he sounds too eager, then panics and deletes the smiley. Then retypes it. Then deletes it again.
Then sends it without the emoji because God forbid he looks like heâs about to propose or something.
He tosses his phone down and flops back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling like it holds the answers to his sins.
Not even ten seconds pass before his phone buzzes. Heart slamming against his ribs, he fumbles to read it:
[sweetheart đ]: you too, toru. sweet dreams? ;)
He physically chokes. Coughs. Slaps his own chest like heâs trying to restart his heart.
âSweet dreamsâ?â he sputters aloud, horrified, voice cracking. âSWEETâ?â
The images from last night flash vividly in his mind: your lips, your breathy giggles, your hands sneaking lowerâ
He shoves his face into a pillow and screams.
When he finally peeks out, shame swirling in his gut, he types back with trembling hands:
[you]: sweetest dreams ever. totally normal. nothing weird about them at all.
And then he turns his phone face-down. Because he cannot. He cannot see what youâre going to reply.
Heâs so down bad it's physically painful.
-
You stare at your phone, biting your lip to hold back a grin.Â
Totally normal. Nothing weird about them at all.
Sure, Satoru. Sure.
You kick your feet a little under your blanket, giddy, heart thumping like crazy. You know exactly what youâre doing. You know exactly what youâre doing to him.
And youâre not done yet. You let him stew in his own panic for a few minutesâjust to watch him sufferâbefore tapping out a reply:
[you]: sounds like someoneâs overcompensating⊠;)
You hit send and immediately burst into laughter, flopping back into your pillows. You can practically imagine him screaming into his hands right now, scrambling to figure out what to say without incriminating himself even more.
And because youâre a menace, you follow it up:
[you]: itâs okay, toru. you can dream about me whenever you want <3
There. Youâve officially ruined his whole morning.
You toss your phone aside and stretch, feeling like you just hit a home run. But then your phone buzzes againâmultiple timesâand you grab it, giggling.
First, from Satoru:
[toru đ]: youâre evil. pure evil. iâm never sleeping again.
And then another, right after:
[toru đ]: coffee today? my treat. i need to see your evil little face or iâm going to combust.
You roll over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind you, cheeks aching from smiling so hard.
Maybe you are evil. But god, itâs so fun when heâs this easy to tease.
You tap out your reply, heart light:
[you]: only if you promise not to die before you get here.
-
It doesnât even take ten minutes before thereâs a knock at your door. You blink in surpriseâyou hadnât even changed yet.
Another knock, this time a little quicker, a little eager.
You pad over and crack the door openâand there he is.
Satoru, all messy hair, rumpled shirt, soft smile. Holding two coffees in his hands.
And looking at you like you hung the moon.
"Hi," he says, almost shyly. "Brought you a coffee."
You blink at him.
He fidgets, rocking on his heels. "I, uh... thought maybe we could, y'know, hang out a little. If youâre not busy."
Your heart melts a little at how hopeful he sounds.
"Youâre impossible," you tease, swinging the door wider.
"And you're stuck with me," he chirps, stepping inside like he belongs there.
You take one of the coffees from him, fingers brushing, and he beams like youâve just given him the greatest honor.
"Thanks," you say, smiling into your cup. "Even though you didnât have to."
"I wanted to," he says simply, plopping onto your couch with zero hesitation. (And he leaves way too little space for you, thigh already brushing yours.)
You sit down beside him, your shoulders bumping. He hums under his breath, swinging his legs a little like a kid whoâs gotten his favorite candy.
For a minute, itâs just the two of you, sipping coffee, the silence warm and comfortable.
And then, out of nowhere, he leans his head dramatically onto your shoulder.
You freeze for a second, heart skipping.
He sighsâloudlyâagainst you. "Youâre not gonna kick me out, right?"
You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. "Not if you behave."
"Thatâs asking for a lot," he grins, tilting his head up to look at you. His smileâs a little mischievous, a little boyish.
You roll your eyes, trying to hide your blush behind your coffee cup.
And because heâs shamelessâand he knows heâs winningâhe adds, voice low and teasing: "Maybe if you give me another goodbye kiss?"
You almost spill your coffee.
He sees itâthe way your fingers fumble, the way your face flushesâand smirks.
"C'mon," he teases, nudging your knee with his. "Wasn't that bad of an idea, was it?"
You narrow your eyes at him, tryingâfailingâto fight your smile. "You," you say, poking his chest, "are way too full of yourself."
"And yet..." Satoru leans in, slow, eyes locked on yours. His voice drops to a whisper. "...you're not moving away."
Your breath catches. Because he's rightâyouâre not. If anything, you're leaning in too.
For a moment, neither of you says anything. The room feels too quiet, too charged. You can hear his breathing, slow and steady, can feel the heat radiating off of him.
Satoruâs gaze drops to your mouthâand lingers there. "Can I?" he murmurs, so soft you almost donât catch it.
Your heart thuds loud in your chest. You nod.
Thatâs all he needs.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he closes the gap, giving you every chance to pull awayâbut you donât. You tilt your chin up, meeting him halfway.
When his lips finally brush yours, itâs gentleâbarely a kiss, more like a breath, a promise.
You sigh against him, and that tiny sound seems to undo him. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss just slightly, just enough to taste you. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin so tenderly it makes your chest ache.
You kiss him back, slow and sweet, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.
It drags outâneither of you in any rush, savoring every second.
He kisses you like heâs afraid youâll vanish if he stops. And you kiss him like youâve been waiting forever for this moment.
When you finally, reluctantly, pull apart, you're both breathless. He presses his forehead against yours, grinning like an idiot. "So..." he whispers, voice a little hoarse. "Can I stay a little longer?"
You pretend to think about it, biting your lip to hide your smile. "Maybe," you tease. "If you behave."
He groans, flopping dramatically onto your couch again, tugging you down with him so you land half-on top of him, laughing.
"Not a chance," he says happily.
You're warm against him, tucked into his side, your head resting on his shoulder like you belonged there. And for a moment, Satoru feels like the luckiest man alive.
Until his brainâtraitorous, evil, rottenâreminds him.
Reminds him of how he spent last night fucking his fist like a deranged lunatic, thinking about you. Reminds him that you have no idea just how far gone he already is.
A quiet, horrified voice in his head: I'm a monster.
His throat goes dry.His hands twitch awkwardly where they rest on your waist, unsure if he should even be touching you like thisâuntil you shift, just slightly, peeking up at him with this sleepy little smile.
And just like that, every coherent thought leaves him. All that's left is you.
"You're comfy," you mumble against him, snuggling closer.
Satoru lets out a weak, broken little laugh, hiding his burning face against your hair.
If you only knew. If you only knew what you did to him.
He doesn't know how long he sits there with you tucked into him, drinking in your warmth. He could stay like this forever, he thinks. Hell, he wants to.
But then his phone buzzes.
He barely registers it, ignoring it at first. Until it buzzes again. And again.
He groans, reluctant, fishing it out of his pocket while you shift sleepily against him. The screen flashes: a reminder for his evening tutoring session he totally, utterly forgot about. He slumps.
"Something wrong?" you ask, voice soft, blinking up at him.
"I gotta go," he mutters like he's being forced into exile.
You bite back a smile, stretching lazily. "Duty calls?"
"Yeah." He pouts, actually pouts. "Stupid duty."
You laugh under your breath, and it's so unfair how easily you knock the air out of his lungs without even trying.
He stands reluctantly, dragging his feet like a kid leaving recess early.
"Hey," you call out. "Arenât you forgetting something?"
He turns around and blinks at you, confusion flickering across his faceâbut then you smile. Soft. Warm. Something just for him.
You step close, tiptoe a little to reach him. And Satoru swears, swears, his heart stumbles in his chest when you press a gentle kiss to his lips.
It's feather-light. Barely there. Sweet enough to make his knees almost buckle.
And when you pull back, a cheeky glint in your eye, he's just standing there. Frozen. Speechless. The stupidest grin pulling at his mouth.
"See you later, âToru," you say lightly, nudging him toward the door.
And all he can manageâvoice cracking slightly, heart hammering out of his chestâis a dazed "Y-Yeah. Later."
You shut the door behind him with a little wave, and he stands there for a good ten seconds before he finally remembers how to move.
-
Class feels different today.
Youâre hyper-aware of everything.
The way Satoru brushes his knee against yours under the table, all casual-like. The way his pinky keeps nudging yours on the desk until finally, finally, you relent and let your fingers curl around his. The way he keeps sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eyeâand every time you catch him, he just smiles, like heâs getting away with something.
Itâs infuriating. Itâs adorable. Itâs Satoru.
You pretend to focus on the lecture. Really, you do. But itâs hard when you can feel the warmth of his hand ghosting over your thigh under the table, a barely-there touch that sends your heart skittering against your ribs.
By the time the professor starts wrapping up class, youâre halfway to combusting.
"Donât forget," she says, tapping the whiteboard, "project updates are due next week."
You scribble the deadline in your notes, but Satoruâs already turning toward you, practically bouncing in his seat.
"Hey," he says, voice pitched low enough that only you can hear. "How about we work on it at my place today?"
You blink, startled. "Your place?"
He grins, bright and boyish. "Yeah! First time for everything, right?"
The way he says itâlight, teasing, almost a little shyâmakes something flutter wildly in your chest.
"Itâll be chill," he continues. "We can grab some snacks, order takeout, maybe actually get stuff done this timeâ"
You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. "Are you actually suggesting a productive study session or trying to lure me into a trap?"
He gasps, hand clutching dramatically at his chest. "Me? Lure you? Iâm offended." Then he drops the act, leaning in close, that mischievous spark lighting up his eyes. "But if you happen to end up in my lap or something, yâknow... destiny."
You shove him lightly, cheeks warming. "God, youâre insufferable."
"Face itâyou love this," he says, nudging your shoulder with his.Â
You roll your eyes so hard itâs a miracle they donât fall out of your head. Still...you find yourself smiling.
"Fine," you say, packing up your stuff. "But weâre actually working this time."
He pumps a fist in victory. "Yes! Bring that sexy brain of yours, princess. Weâre gonna kill this project."
You throw a crumpled sticky note at him. He catches it midair, flashing a grin that practically glows.
-
Youâre home, lounging on your bed, phone in hand.
The texting starts innocent enough.
[you]: what should I bring?
[toru đ]: just that pretty little self of yours
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile.
[you]: be serious
[toru đ]: i am. iâm dead serious. maybe a notebook too though lol
You roll your eyes, thumbs hovering over your screen. Before you can type anything else, another message pops up:
[toru đ]: also⊠try not to look too pretty
[toru đ]: kinda hard to focus when youâre around
You blink at the screen, heart skipping a beat. The sudden boldness makes you squirm a little under your covers.
Before you can even react, a third text follows:
[toru đ]: hereâs my address
A pinned location pops up. Followed byâ
[toru đ]: hurry over please
You stare at the messages, warmth blooming in your chest (and spreading lower, if you were honest).
You should probably be nervous. You should definitely be more cautious.
But all you do is grin, toss your phone onto the bed, and start getting ready.
-
You barely knock once before the door swings open.
And there he is.
Black tank top clinging to his chest, basketball shorts slung so low it should be illegal. Lean muscles on full display. Sleep-mussed white hair falling over his forehead.
You actually forget how to breathe. Your brain just... shuts down.
Satoruâs mouth twitches into a knowing smirk. He leans lazily against the doorframe, crossing his arms â muscles flexing, because of course they do â and tips his head at you.
âWell, well," he drawls, amusement dripping from every word. "Didnât think youâd be that easy to stun."
You blink â once, twice â scrambling to find your voice. "Iâm not stunned," you blurt out, way too fast to be convincing.
"Mhm," he hums, that smug little grin widening. "Sure. You just like standing on people's porches looking like you forgot your own name?"
You shove past him with a flustered scoff, cheeks burning. But you can feel his eyes trailing after you, slow and satisfied, as he shuts the door behind you.
"You didnât tell me the dress code was..." you flounder, gesturing vaguely at his entire existence, "thirst trap casual."
"Aw, you think Iâm a thirst trap?" he coos, stepping dangerously close â close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him properly.
"I think youâre an asshole," you snap â except your voice comes out all breathy, completely ruining the effect.
Satoru chuckles â a low, rich sound that vibrates all the way through you. "You can be honest, y'know. It's just us here." He leans down, dropping his voice into a whisper, "You like what you see."
You make a strangled noise in your throat and whirl around, pretending to inspect the living room like it's the most fascinating thing youâve ever seen. "Whereâs your project stuff?" you demand, heart thundering against your ribs.
"Wow," he says behind you, tone all fake-hurt. "Use me for my brain and ditch me for my abs. Brutal."
"You have a brain?" you retort, finally finding a shred of composure.
He laughs again â easy, bright â and brushes past you, the barest graze of his arm against yours sending your nerves into a frenzy.
"Come on, nerd," he calls over his shoulder, tossing a wink at you that almost knocks you off your feet. "Projectâs not gonna finish itself."
You huff, yanking your notebook out of your bag to try and hide the stupid, giddy smile pulling at your lips.
Youâre just barely settled on the couch, notebook balanced on your lap, when Satoru stretches â arms over his head, tank top riding up dangerously â and says, âActually... weâll have more space in my room."
You blink at him, heart skipping a beat. "Your room?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow.
He flashes a wide, shit-eating grin. "Yeah. Bigger desk. Better lighting."
You narrow your eyes, pretending to be skeptical. "Oh? Already trying to get me in bed?"
Satoru stops dead in his tracks â but only for half a second. Then he tosses a look over his shoulder, cocky and wicked. "Donât give me ideas," he says, voice low and playful.
Your cheeks burn so hot youâre surprised you donât spontaneously combust. But youâre stubborn â so you just huff and follow him anyway, ignoring the smug little chuckle he lets out as he leads you down the hall. And then you step into his room â and freeze.
Because itâs... itâs not what you expect. Sure, itâs a little messy â loose clothes on a chair, half-done laundry â but what really grabs your attention is the shelf. More specifically: the shelf packed with colorful little figures. Posters. Framed prints. All of it instantly recognizable.
"...Is thatâ" you start, pointing.
"Digimon," Satoru says immediately, like he's bracing himself for judgment.
You stare. You blink. And then â you laugh. Loud, bright, uncontrollable.
He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "I knew it. I knew you were gonna make fun of me."
You grin at him, unrepentant. "You? Cool, confident, six-foot-whatever Gojo Satoru... secret Digimon stan? Oh, this is gold."
"Itâs not secret," he grumbles, crossing his arms like a petulant kid. "Digimonâs fucking awesome. Better than PokĂ©mon. Better story arcs, deeper charactersâ"
"You sound so defensive," you giggle, stepping closer to inspect a particularly adorable stuffed Agumon perched on his bed.
He steps up beside you, bumping your shoulder lightly with his and picks up the plushie to toss it somewhere else. "You're lucky you're cute," he mutters, mock-threatening, "or Iâd kick you out right now."
You bite back a smile, feeling that fluttery, giddy warmth bloom in your chest again. Because for all his teasing, all his cocky bravado â thereâs something painfully endearing about how unapologetically himself he is. No hiding. No shame. Just... Satoru.
"Youâre such a nerd," you say fondly.
Satoru smirks, eyes glinting mischievously. "Yeah? Still think Iâm a thirst trap though?"
You sputter, flustered all over again â and he cackles, so pleased with himself itâs criminal.
God. You are so screwed.
You perch awkwardly on the edge of his bed, notebook in your lap again, pretending youâre not hyper-aware of how huge his bed is, how close he is, how the mattress dips slightly under his weight when he flops down next to you.
"Alright," he says, stretching lazily, flashing a sliver of toned stomach again. "Serious time. Project planning. Let's go."
You nod, throat a little dry. "Serious," you echo, flipping open the notebook. "No distractions."
"None whatsoever," he agrees solemnly.
You start brainstorming, scribbling notes in the margins, muttering ideas under your breath. For a few minutes, everythingâs fine. Normal. Until you feel it â the slight brush of his knee against yours. At first, you think itâs an accident. You shift slightly to the side.
But then it happens again. And again.
And then â Satoru leans closer, peering over your shoulder, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand rests casually on the bed behind you, fingers curling ever so slightly around the edge of your shirt.
You pretend to ignore it. Pretend so hard it almost works.
But then he hums low in his throat â a thoughtful, lazy little sound â and lets his hand slide up, fingers brushing lightly against your lower back, and your entire body tenses.
"'Toru..." you murmur, trying for stern, but it comes out way too breathy. You donât even look at him â you canât â because you already know what youâll find: those blue eyes, lazy and half-lidded, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Focus," you manage, tapping the notebook for emphasis.
He leans in, so close his nose almost brushes your temple, and murmurs in a voice so low it makes your stomach flip:
"You make it hard to."
His hand is bold now â fingers tracing slow, idle patterns over the dip of your waist, so gentle it leaves a trail of fire in its wake. Your breath stutters in your throat. You feel your heart hammer against your ribs.
You finally â finally â dare a glance at him.
And heâs looking at you like heâs starving.
For you.
The tension is a physical thing now, heavy and thick in the air between you. You swear you can hear the blood rushing in your ears.
"...You're unbelievable," you whisper, the notebook slipping from your fingers.
His smirk deepens, shameless. "You like it."
God help you â you do.
You scramble, trying desperately to recover your sanity, to remember why youâre even here in the first place. The project. The project, dammit.
You slap your palm over the notebook, pushing it toward him. "W-We should reallyâ really focus," you stammer, voice wobbling embarrassingly.
He just grins, slow and easy, that grin that makes you forget your own name.
"I am focused," he says, voice dropping into that low, teasing rasp. "Focused on you."
And before you can react, he shifts â the bed dipping under his weight as he gently crowds into your space.
Your breath catches.
He cages you in with a hand planted firm beside your hip, his other hand curling loosely around your wrist like heâs giving you the option to pull away â like heâs daring you to.
You donât. You canât.
Youâre frozen, wide-eyed, heart thudding like crazy.
His forehead presses lightly to yours, and you feel the whisper of his breath against your lips.
"You drive me crazy, y'know that?" he murmurs, voice impossibly soft. Every word vibrates through you.
You open your mouth â to say what, youâre not sure â but no sound comes out. Youâre too busy trying not to melt.
And then he moves. Sudden but gentle, he presses you down against the mattress, his body hovering above yours, careful not to crush you.
Your hands instinctively fly up to his chest â oh, God his chest â and you feel the steady pound of his heartbeat under your palms.
Heâs close now, so close you can see every detail of his face â the slight pink flush on his cheeks, the playful crinkle at the corners of his eyes, the way his pupils are blown wide with something between affection and hunger.
"Youâre so cute when you're flustered," he teases, and you want to hate him for it, you really do.
But you donât. You can't.
Instead, you fist your hands in the soft fabric of his shirt and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will your racing pulse back to normal.
He chuckles, low and smug. Then â so lightly you almost think you imagined it â he brushes his nose along the side of your jaw, breathing you in.
"Youâre killing me," he whispers.
You whimper â actual, real, humiliating whimper â and he grins.
But he doesnât kiss you. Not yet.
He just stays there, letting the tension thicken, letting you squirm, savoring it.
Itâs agony. Itâs perfect.
You feel it â the exact moment his lips almost touch yours.
Itâs a whisper of a moment, barely-there, the ghost of contact that makes your whole body tense up in anticipation.
Heâs so close. So close you can taste the heat radiating off him, the sweet, addictive scent of his cologne, the lazy tilt of his grin as he leans inâ
And thatâs when you snap out of it.
At the very last second, you slip a hand between your bodies, planting your palm firmly against his chest to stop him.
His eyes fly open, confused, slightly wild.
You smile â sweet, smug â up at him.
"Uh-uh," you say, your voice still a little breathless but steady enough to make him narrow his eyes suspiciously. "Project first."
The sheer betrayal on his face.
"You've gotta be kidding me," he groans, dropping his forehead dramatically onto your shoulder like you just mortally wounded him. "I was so close, baby, c'monâ"
You cackle. Gojo finds it beautiful.
He lifts his head, leveling you with the most pathetic pout youâve ever seen. "You're evil," he accuses.
You just wiggle your eyebrows at him, smirking. "Should've thought about that before trying to seduce me in broad daylight, Gojo."
He collapses beside you with a dramatic huff, flopping back against the bed like his soul has been snatched from his body.
"Itâs almost 7. Unbelievable," he mutters. "This is harassment. I should sue."
You reach over, patting his chest twice, condescending and sweet. "There, there."
He turns his head, glaring at you â but the slight twitch of his lips gives him away.
"You owe me later," he says, pointing a finger at you like a solemn oath.
You hum, pretending to think it over, before shooting him a wicked little grin. "We'll see if you're good."
His groan is loud enough to rattle the bed.
You're absolutely thriving.
Youâre trying so hard to focus. You really are. Project notes scattered across the bed, laptop open, a half-written paragraph blinking at you like it's taunting your lack of progress.
And thenâ
"Break time!" Satoru declares, already tugging you off the bed by your wrist before you can even protest.
You stumble after him, laughing breathlessly. "Satoru, we barely got anything done!"
"Exactly why we need a break," he grins, dragging you toward the kitchen like a man on a mission. "Youâll thank me later."
You roll your eyes but let him haul you along, too curious (and maybe a little too charmed) to resist.
He lets go of your hand once you reach the kitchen and dramatically cracks his knuckles, looking far too proud of himself.
"Watch and learn, sweetheart," he says, shooting you a wink. "You're in the presence of greatness."
You snort, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter. "Oh yeah? You gonna burn the house down, master chef?"
He gasps â actually gasps â clutching his chest like you mortally wounded him. "You wound me."
You just laugh, watching as he rummages through the fridge with entirely too much flair, pulling out random ingredients and setting them on the counter.
"You're literally just making instant ramen," you point out dryly, but there's a smile tugging at your lips.
"Gourmet instant ramen," he corrects, wagging a finger at you. "With egg. And scallions. And a lilâ bit of love."
He tosses you another wink and you lose it, doubling over in silent laughter.
You lean back against the counter, arms folded, trying â and failing â to look unimpressed as he hums to himself, clattering pots around. Heâs in a black tank top and low-hanging shorts, muscles flexing casually with every movement, hair messy from dragging his hands through it.
And itâs... distracting. Way too distracting.
Especially when he starts cracking an egg one-handed like a cocky asshole.
"Show-off," you mutter under your breath.
"Donât act like youâre not impressed," he sing-songs, peeking at you from under snowy lashes, smug as hell.
You flip him off lazily. He just grins wider.
The kitchen fills with the scent of broth and spices, steam curling in the air. He moves with this effortless, chaotic sort of confidence â a little reckless, a little messy â but somehow everything comes together perfectly.
When he turns to you again, ramen bowl in hand, he looks so goddamn pleased with himself you want to laugh.
"See?" he says, stepping closer. "I'm basically husband material."
You tilt your head, raising a brow. "You make instant noodles and think you deserve a ring?"
"Handmade. Special edition. Enhanced with love." He winks, holding up the bowl like an offering. "You should be honored."
And even though you roll your eyes, you can't help the smile tugging at your lips â can't help the way your stomach flips stupidly as he steps even closer, towering over you with that lazy, confident grin.
-
You set the now-empty bowl down on the counter, nudging him with your elbow. "Since you whipped up such a gourmet meal, I guess the least I can do is the dishes."
Satoru leans back against the counter, grinning so wide it's almost embarrassing. "You spoil me."
You roll your eyes but start gathering up the dishes anyway, rinsing them under the tap. The warm water and simple task are oddly comforting, your movements easy, natural.
And from behind you, you can feel it â his gaze, warm and heavy, drinking you in like he's memorizing this moment.
Before you can even finish rinsing the second bowl, you feel him â long arms sliding around your waist, pulling you back into him, chest pressed against your back.
You huff a soft laugh, not bothering to fight it. "Needy much?"
He just hums, nose nudging into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your skin. "You smell good," he mumbles, voice low and content.
"Why, thank you," you say, but itâs half a smile.
"I could get used to this," he murmurs, squeezing you a little tighter.
You finish up the dishes like that â his arms around you, his weight solid and comforting at your back, his soft little praises murmured into your ear in between.
"You're pretty," he says at one point, completely unprompted. "So pretty I don't know how I'm supposed to concentrate when you're around."
You duck your head, smiling to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn.
When you finally dry your hands and turn around to face him, he's already looking down at you with stars in his eyes, a little breathless like he can't believe you're real.
You loop your arms around his neck without thinking, tugging him a little closer, and he leans into it easily, lazily, like he's been waiting for this exact moment. "Can I kiss you yet?" he asks, grinning like an idiot, voice all hopeful and teasing.
You laugh, soft and fond, brushing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Sure, loverboy."
And he doesn't waste a second â swooping down to finally, finally claim your lips in a kiss that's sweet and warm and a little clumsy with excitement, like he just canât hold it in anymore.
The moment your lips meet, itâs like something clicks into place.
At first, itâs a gentle brush of mouths, shy and smiling. He kisses you once, then twice, like he canât get enough, like heâs trying to memorize the shape of your mouth. But then you tilt your head just a little, arms tightening around his neck, and he groans â a low, helpless sound that rumbles against your chest.
And just like that, the kiss deepens.
His hands, which had been resting innocently at your waist, slide down â gripping your hips with a little more urgency, pulling you flush against him. You gasp softly into his mouth, and he takes full advantage, slotting his mouth over yours in a way that leaves your knees just barely holding you up. You feel it when his fingers flex, pressing you closer, when his body shudders lightly against yours.
God, heâs starving for you. You can feel it in the way he kisses â slow but hungry, like heâs been waiting for this, aching for it.
When he pulls back for just a breath, his forehead presses to yours, and his voice is ragged, wrecked. "Youâre gonna kill me," he whispers, before diving back in, more desperate this time.
You whimper into his mouth without meaning to, clutching at the front of his shirt, feeling the heat of him seeping into your palms.
Satoru groans again, hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just under the hem of your shirt, skin to skin.
Itâs not rushed. Itâs not frantic. Itâs slow â simmering â like heâs savoring every second, like he wants this moment to stretch on forever.
And itâs only when his teeth gently tug at your bottom lip â when your breathing turns shallow and desperate against each other â that you finally, finally break away.
Both of you stand there for a second, breathing hard, faces flushed.
You feel dizzy. He looks completely wrecked.
Youâre both breathless when you pull apart, foreheads resting together, lips tingling.
Satoruâs hands are still on your waist, holding you close like heâs not ready to let go. You can feel the way his chest rises and falls against yours â shallow, like heâs trying to calm himself down.
He gives a short, breathy laugh. âJesus,â he mutters. âYouâre gonna be the death of me.â
You smile, dazed. âPretty sure thatâs mutual.â
Thereâs a beat of silence â heavy with everything unsaid â before he leans in again.
Hungrier. Rougher. Like heâs been holding back all night and canât anymore. His mouth moves over yours with unfiltered need, hands pulling you closer like itâs the only thing keeping him grounded.
You make a soft noise into his mouth, and it only spurs him on. The way he kisses you â itâs not perfect. Itâs messy and fast and desperate, teeth catching on your lower lip, hands gripping tight like heâs scared youâll slip away.
Your fingers wind into the fabric of his tank top, pulling him even closer until youâre practically wrapped around him.
He breaks the kiss just barely, lips brushing yours as he breathes out, âTell me if itâs too much.â
You shake your head. âItâs not. Iââ You swallow. âI want this. You.â
His expression softens for a split second before that heat comes rushing back. His mouth is back on yours, slower this time but no less intense â like heâs trying to memorize how you taste.
When his hand slips under your shirt and settles on the small of your back, warm and firm, you shiver.
He kisses you like he means it. Like he feels it.
And when you finally pull back again, breathless and flushed, he just smiles â eyes glassy, voice low.
âYou have no idea what youâre doing to me.â
You barely have time to catch your breath before heâs kissing you again.
No warning, no hesitation â just the searing press of his mouth against yours like heâs starving for it. Like he needs more. And you give in without thinking, letting him pull you closer until thereâs not a sliver of space left between your bodies.
His hands are on your waist, fingers tightening like heâs trying to anchor himself. And when your hands slide up his chest, over those broad shoulders, he groans into your mouth â low and wrecked.
Itâs dizzying, the way he kisses you. Every time you think heâll stop, he comes back for more â messier, deeper, rougher. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his lips trail down to your jaw, then your neck, slow and hot and reverent.
And then suddenly, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes.
His voice is breathless, raw. âHold on.â
Before you can ask what he means, he lifts you â effortlessly, like itâs the most natural thing in the world. You let out a startled gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you through the apartment. Your heartâs hammering so hard youâre sure he can feel it.
Heâs grinning now, cocky and breathless all at once. âI warned you Iâm husband material.â
âShut up,â you mutter against his neck, flustered beyond reason.
But thereâs no hiding the way your legs tighten around his waist.
He nudges his bedroom door open with his foot, stepping inside, and the second youâre both in, he sets you down gently. And just like that, heâs on you again â kissing you like heâs waited his whole life for this.
His mouth is still on yours when he shifts forward, slowly pressing you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You stumble slightly, gripping his arms for balanceâand the second your weight tips back, he goes with you.
The two of you collapse onto the mattress in a tangled mess of limbs and breathless laughter, but heâs quick to recover. Quick to pin you there beneath him, hands braced on either side of your head, his hips snug between your thighs.
He looks down at you like heâs never seen anything more beautiful.
And then that glint returnsâdangerous and wicked and so unlike the stammering nerd you met on day one.
âYou have no idea what you do to me,â he breathes, voice low and rough in your ear.
You shiver.
His lips find the side of your neck again, and this time they donât lingerâthey devour. Hot, open-mouthed kisses that make your back arch, that pull quiet, helpless sounds from your throat. His hands wander too, slow at first, fingertips tracing the curve of your waist, your hips, every line and dip he can find.
You reach for him, needing moreâbut he grabs your wrists, pins them gently above your head with one hand.
âNuh-uh,â he smirks. âIâm in charge now.â
Youâre just about to sass him when he dips down again, this time trailing kisses down your collarbone. Then lower. He peppers slow, aching kisses across your chest, teasing the hem of your top with his free hand.
And then he sits up, straddling your hips, eyes practically burning.
âCan I tell you a secret?â he asks, and itâs a loaded question.
You nod.
He leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear. âI jacked off to the thought of you the other night.â
Your breath catchesâyour whole body burns.
âAfter that text you sent,â he goes on, voice like velvet laced with sin. âYou have no idea what you did to me. I read it once and couldnât stop imagining it. Youâwhispering in my ear like that, all sweet and smug and filthy.â
He moves again, kisses dragging hot and slow down the slope of your neck, and then your chest, until heâs tugging your shirt up and over your head.
âI was in bed,â he murmurs. âOne hand on my phone. The otherâŠâ He lets the implication hang, but his hand slips down your thigh, then up again, teasing, until your breath comes in sharp gasps.
âI was thinking about you,â he says. âAbout your voice. About what youâd look like straddling me, telling me what you wanted while I fucked up into you so slow.â
Your hips buck at thatâand god, the smirk that pulls at his lips should be illegal.
He starts undressing you slowly, worshipping, like every piece he reveals is a treasure. âI need you,â he breathes, forehead pressed to yours. His voice is hoarse, eyes searching yours like he needs you to understand.Â
The kiss that follows is devastatingâopen-mouthed and hungry, a collision of breath and teeth and need. Youâre clawing at his clothes like they personally offended you, yanking at the hem of his shirt with fumbling fingers and a frustrated groan.
âOff,â you hiss against his lips.
He laughs, breathless, tugging it over his head and tossing it aside, revealing smooth skin and defined muscle, the dip of his waist disappearing into those loose shorts you suddenly despise.
You push at them with impatient hands, and he grinsâcocky, flushed, wrecked and loving every second of it. âDesperate, huh?â he teases, voice still husky from the kiss.
âYouâre one to talk,â you shoot back, dragging your nails down his sides. âYouâre not exactly subtle, loverboy.â
Heâs all hands again thenâroaming your body, trailing heat in their wake as he presses you down into the bed, lips never far from your skin. Every motion is frantic and reverent all at once, like heâs starving but determined to savor every inch of you.
You push at his chest gently, and he lets you, eyebrows raised in surprise as his back hits the mattress.
âOh?â he breathes, propping himself up on his elbows. âTaking control now?â
âDidnât you say I killed you the other night?â you murmur, crawling between his legs with a sly smile. âFigured I should finish the job.â
His eyes darken immediatelyâheat blooming in them so fast itâs dizzying. âYou have no idea what youâre doing to me.â
You doâbecause the second your hands slide up his thighs, heâs already sucking in a breath, already biting back a groan. His abs tense under your touch, his head tipping back as he watches you through lidded eyes, gaze glazed over with anticipation.
âYou been thinking about this, âToru?â you ask softly, dragging your nails lightly along the waistband of his shorts.
He swallows thickly. âEvery night.â
And when you finally tug his waistband down, your breath catches.
He's thick, long and heavy, flushed a pretty pink at the tip, and already straining toward you like heâs been waiting for this moment forever. Your mouth parts without thinking. You donât even realize youâre staring until he lets out a shaky, nervous laugh. Your hands wrap around him and his hips instinctively buck upwards.
âFuckfuckfuckfuck,â he mutters, voice gravelly.
Heâs already goneâchest rising and falling in short, sharp breaths. His hands clutch the sheets when you lean in, letting your tongue flick across the swollen head, tasting him.Â
âOh fuckââ
You take your time. You donât give him all of it, not yet. You swirl your tongue around the tip, teasing the slit until he hisses between clenched teeth. He jolts when you lick a slow stripe along the underside, right at the base where itâs most sensitive, your fingers cradling him, gentle and thorough.
He groansâloud and rawâand you feel his hands fist the sheets tighter.
âYouâre killing me,â he pants, head tipping back, voice nearly wrecked.
And still, you donât rush. You bob your head slowly, steadily, sinking down deeper with each pass until his abs tighten and he moansâloud, desperate. You feel him twitch on your tongue, hear the soft, breathy curse that falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him and roll your wrist just right. You squeeze his balls and he nearly sobs.
You glance up through your lashes, and the sight of himâhead tossed back, jaw clenched, face flushed, his entire body shaking with restraintâis seared into your memory.
You donât take your eyes off him, not even as you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper. Heâs so closeâyou can feel it in the way his thighs tense, the way his breath stutters, the broken sound he makes when you moan around him.
âFuckâbaby, Iâm gonnaââ
You donât stop. You want it. Want to see him fall apart. And he does, with a choked groan that rips out of his chest as he spills into your mouth, hot and thick. His hand flies to your hair, not to pull you awayâbut to keep you there, his hips giving the slightest jerk as he rides it out. You swallow it all only pulling off when he starts to twitch. And when you finally draw back, lips slick and chin damp, he looks completely undone.Â
âHoly shit,â he breathes, dazed.Â
You just smile sweetly and wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb.
Heâs still catching his breath when you go to pull back fully, smug and satisfied. âMm-hm,â he hums, voice rough and curling with mischief. His hand catches your wrist, firm but gentle. âMy turn, sweetheart.â
You blink. âOh?â
Before you can tease him back, he movesâeffortlessly. One arm wraps around your waist, the other plants on the bed, and in a single fluid motion heâs pulling you up, flipping you like you weigh nothing and settling you inches away from his face. You squeakâactually squeakâas your knees plant on either side of his head.
âSatoruââ
âShh.â He grins, that ridiculous confident smirk plastered across his flushed face. âSit, baby. Be good for me.â
He gives your ass a squeeze, encouraging, eyes gleaming up at you. You hesitate for half a second and he adds, voice dipped low and sinfully sweet,
âYou got to have your fun.â
Then he pulls you down.
His mouth is on you immediatelyâhot and unrelenting. Tongue flicking, lips sealing around your clit as he groans like you taste better than anything heâs ever had. His hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh, holding you there like heâs starving and youâre the feast. And when your hips twitch, instinctively trying to lift offâhe drags you right back down.
âOh no, sweetheart,â he murmurs against you, voice muffled and vibrating through your core, âI said sit.â
Youâre braced against the headboard now, knees shaking, thighs clenched tight around his head as you grind downâslow at first, then faster, chasing that high with ragged breath and trembling limbs.
Heâs not just letting you. Heâs encouraging it.
Big hands grope your ass, fingers digging in, guiding you against his mouth like he wants you to lose it. His tongue moves with practiced precision, sucking and flicking, drawing soft whimpers and broken gasps from your lips as your body arches.
You glance down again and the sight nearly finishes youâhis eyes half-lidded and dazed, cheeks flushed, hair a total mess from how many times youâve tugged on it.
He looks wrecked. But heâs moaning like heâs in heaven. Like this is exactly where he wants to be.
And then he says itâmuffled, half-choked, voice thick with lust and absolutely feral. âSo fucking sweet.â
You grind harder, hips rolling, and he groans into you.
He doesnât care if he canât breathe. Doesnât care if heâs dizzy. Doesnât care if youâre seconds from suffocating him. Heâs already decided this is how he wants to go out.
Buried between your thighs, mouth full of you, hands holding you down like youâre sacred.
And when you finally breakâback arching, eyes fluttering shut, thighs clamping around his head as your orgasm crashes through youâhe doesnât stop. Not for a second.
He rides it out with you, tongue still moving, swallowing every sound you make.
When he finally lets go you collapse beside him, completely spent, your body still trembling in the aftermath. Your cheek presses into the pillow, breath catching in your throat as you try to come back to yourself. Satoru shifts next to you, propping himself up on one elbow. He brushes your hair back gently, eyes soft, and asks quietly,
âYou okay?â
You nod, still catching your breath. âYeah. Justâholy shit.â
He huffs a small laugh and leans down to kiss your shoulder, warm and unhurried. âGood.â
You feel him watching you for a second longer, like heâs making sure youâre really alright. You stretch out, boneless and warm, assuming this is the part where you both wind down.
But then his hand slides down your back.
You feel him shift behind you, and when you glance over your shoulder, his expressionâs changed. Still gentleâbut focused. Hungrier.
âYou done?â he asks softly, voice right at your ear now.
You blink. âI⊠thought we were.â
He smiles, and itâs a little crooked, a little smugâbut not cocky. Just him.
âNot even close.â
Before you can respond, his hands are on your hips, guiding you forward. You let him, moving onto your knees again, bracing your hands against the headboard as the mattress shifts beneath you. He settles behind you slowly, fingers trailing up your sides. The air changesâmore intimate now, more intense.
âYou okay like this?â he murmurs.
You nod.
âGood.â He kisses the back of your neck. âHold on to something.â
He settles behind you again, one hand steady on your hip, the other guiding himself down. You feel the slow drag of him through your foldsâwarm, thick, and deliberate. You suck in a breath, hips twitching slightly. But he doesnât press in. Just rocks forward enough to slide himself through you again. And again.
Your fingers curl tighter around the headboard. ââŠSatoru,â you breathe.
âMhm?â His voice is low, calm. Way too calm for what heâs doing.
You try to push back into him, but he keeps you where he wants youâjust a firm, gentle grip at your hip keeping you still.
Heâs quiet for a moment. You glance over your shoulder and catch the look on his face: focused, a little tense, clearly feeling itâbut taking his time anyway.
âYouâre doing that on purpose,â you mutter.
A breath of a laugh leaves him. âYeah. Kind of.â
Your forehead drops forward. ââToruâŠâ
He groans softlyâjust a little, like heâs trying not toâbut doesnât stop. Just drags himself over you again, slower now. âGod, you feel good,â he mutters. âI just⊠give me a second.â
You shift again, needy and frustrated, and he finally stills behind you, tip resting right where you want him. You both freeze.
ââŠYou okay?â he asks quietly.
You nod, exhaling hard. âPlease.â
Thereâs a beat. And then he leans forward, lips brushing your shoulder, voice quiet and serious against your skin. âYeah. I got you. Just spread âem a bit for me⊠yeah, thatâs it.â
He eases in with that first, deep strokeâslow enough to feel every inch of him push through your walls. The stretch burns just a little, but the heat in your core blooms even hotter. Heâs thick, heavy, and you feel every vein drag along your inner walls, textured and pulsing, making your whole body clench around him without thinking.
Behind you, Satoru groansâlow and raw, like itâs dragging out of his chest. âGod⊠you feel unreal,â he mutters, breath shaky.
He holds still once heâs fully inside, his hips pressed against the swell of your ass, his hand flexing on your waist like heâs trying not to move too fast. His cock twitches inside you and you gasp at how full you feelâyour body stretched and throbbing around him, nerves lighting up from the inside out.
âOkay?â he murmurs, lips brushing the back of your shoulder.
You nod, voice barely there. âYeah. Justâfuck, Satoru.â
He pulls out slow, almost all the way, and you feel every ridge of him drag against your soaked walls. Then he sinks back in with a soft grunt, and you swear you feel him throb againâyour body squeezing around him on instinct.
The pace he sets is slow but deep, grinding into you just right, the friction steady and maddening. Your thighs are trembling already, your hands gripping the headboard like itâs the only thing keeping you grounded.
Every time he pushes in, his cock presses against that spongy spot deep inside you, and every time he pulls out, itâs this slow, deliberate scrape that leaves you gasping. Thereâs no space left between youâjust wet heat and tension, pressure building with every stroke.
And thenâhis hand moves. Slides down from your waist, slipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit with no hesitation. The first pass is light, almost teasing.
You jolt. âSatoruâ!â
âI got you,â he says quietly, like a promise. His thumb circles you, slow and tight, while his other hand braces your hip steady against him. And all the while, he keeps fucking into youâdeeper now, rhythm starting to slip, strokes a little rougher, his breath coming harder against your skin.
âYou feel so good around me,â he murmurs, thumb pressing down just a little harder. âSo warm. So tight. You keep squeezing me like that, babyâfuck.â
Your whole body is shaking now, moaning helplessly as his fingers keep working your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. Every stroke is slick, deep, devastating. You can hear the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you, the soft slap of skin, his strained breathingâyour own whimpers growing louder with every thrust.
The pressure builds sharp and fast, your body locking up as your orgasm crashes toward youâ
And Satoruâs still going. Still thumbing your clit, still grinding his cock into you like he canât get enough.
Your body tightens around him without warning, breath catching as the pleasure crestsâsharp, blinding, unstoppable. You cry out, head dropping as your orgasm rips through you, muscles clenching so hard around his cock that it knocks the air out of both of you.
âOh myâfuck, thatâs itââ Satoru groans, stuttering inside you as your walls flutter and squeeze around him.
Youâre still shaking, coming down from the high, when he slowsâlets you ride it out, then carefully pulls out, the sudden emptiness making you gasp. You barely have time to blink before heâs flipping you onto your back like you weigh nothing.
He spreads your thighs open, throws your legs over his shoulders, and lines himself up again with a low, strained breath. His eyes meet yoursâstill soft, but blown wide, jaw tight with restraint. Thereâs nothing teasing left in him now.
He doesnât ask this time. Doesnât wait. He thrusts back in hardâdeepâand keeps going.
No more slow buildup. No more holding back. Just relentless, steady driveâhis hips snapping into yours over and over, the wet sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.
You gasp, fingers flying to his forearms as he leans over you, caging you in. His pace is brutal now, almost punishing, but it never stops feeling goodâthe angle perfect, the pressure hitting deep with every stroke.
âSatoruââ you sob, voice cracking.
He groans through gritted teeth, muscles tense, hips moving like heâs possessed. âYouâre soâfuckingâtight.â
You can barely think. Your legs tremble over his shoulders, body arching with every thrust, your orgasm still making aftershocks ripple through you.
He reaches down between you again, hand slipping to your clit like itâs second natureâhis thumb moving in tight, fast circles that make your back arch off the bed. âYou gonna give me another one?â he pants, voice rough and shaking. âCome on, sweetheartâI know you can.â
You donât even answer. You canât. The pressureâs already building againâtoo fast, too much, your body barely holding on as he keeps fucking into you like heâs been waiting for this all night.
You feel him twitch inside you, hear his breathing hitchâbut he still doesnât come. Heâs chasing you again, driving into you like your pleasure is the only thing that matters.
You donât know how he keeps going like this. His pace is ruthless, hips pistoning into you like heâs been starving for itâbut itâs the focus that kills you. Heâs watching every twitch in your body, every gasp, every time your walls flutter around him like heâs memorizing it.
Then he shiftsâleans in until your knees are almost pinned to your chest, folding you in half under him. The new angle makes you cry out, his cock hitting impossibly deep, your body arching beneath the weight of him. âYou feel that?â he breathes, voice rough and close to a growl now. âSo deep inside you, baby. Just like this.â
And thenâhis mouth is on your chest. You gasp when he takes your nipple between his lips, tongue circling, sucking slow and steady while his hips never stop. The hot pull of his mouth makes your toes curl, especially when his free hand moves to palm your other breastâthumb brushing over the sensitive peak, fingers squeezing just enough to make you whimper.
Itâs too much. Youâre overstimulatedâhis cock still driving into you, thumb still tight and unrelenting on your clit, his mouth sucking, teasing, biting gently down before soothing with his tongue.
Pleasure spikes sharp and fast, and itâs not buildingâitâs crashing. Your entire body locks up as the heat inside you explodes again, white-hot and shattering, a sob wrenching out of your throat. âFuckâSatoruâ!â Your cunt clenches tight around him, waves of pleasure ripping through you, and he feels it. You feel him falter, his rhythm breaking as he groans like youâve just knocked the wind out of him.
âShitâfuckâfuck, Iâmâ,â he doesnât even finish the sentence before heâs coming too, hips jerking as he spills inside you with a choked moan. You can feel him pulsing deep inside, every twitch of his cock matching the aftershocks still tearing through you.
He holds you tight through it, arms wrapped around your back, forehead pressed to your shoulder as you both shake through the comedownânothing but breathless curses filling the room.
You donât even realize your eyes have fluttered shut until you feel him shift, just a gentle repositioning of his weight as he carefully pulls outâslow, like he doesnât want to hurt you. You wince, breath catching at the sting, and immediately his voice is there, low and warm in your ear. âHey, you with me?â
You nod faintly, your body boneless, brain melted, heart still pounding. He kisses your shoulderâonce, twiceâand gently lowers your legs from where theyâre still draped over him, massaging your thighs like he knows theyâre trembling.
âOkay,â he murmurs. âIâll be right back, yeah? Donât move.â
You canât even laugh at that. He gets up anyway, grabbing the closest towel and heading to the bathroom, still totally naked, completely unbothered. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror across the roomâhair a mess, chest flushed, thighs shakingâand you groan, flopping back against the sheets.
By the time he returns, youâre still half out of it, and he just smiles, fond and lazy as he nudges your legs apart again. âEasy,â he whispers, wiping you down gently, taking his time like youâre made of glass now. âYou did so good for me, baby. So fucking good.â
You sigh as he finishes, and the second heâs done, he tosses the towel and climbs back into bed with youâpulling you against his chest, arms wrapped tight around your waist like heâs anchoring himself. You melt into him, cheek pressed against his collarbone and he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
A pause. ThenââYouâre unreal, you know that?â he murmurs. âI mean, I already knew, butâJesus.â
You roll your eyes, lips twitching. âYouâre just saying that âcause I made you come so hard you forgot your own name.â
âSweetheart,â he says solemnly, âDonât be mean.â
You laughâtired, softâand he smiles at the sound.
Then quieter: âYouâre incredible.â He leans in, presses a kiss to your forehead.
You bury your face in his chest, heart warm and too full. âStop being sweet,â you mumble.
âNever.â He grins.
You donât say anything for a while. Just breatheâslow and steadyâas his hand runs gently along your back, grounding you. The roomâs quiet now, save for the soft hum of the city outside the window, and the faint rustle of sheets as you both settle into the aftermath. He shifts just enough to pull the blanket higher over the two of you, tucking you in without saying a word.
Your eyes are heavy, but you blink them open to look at him. Heâs already watching youâmessy hair, flushed cheeks, the ghost of a smile on his lips like he canât quite believe youâre real.
âWhat?â you murmur, voice rough with sleep.
He shrugs a little, eyes soft. âNothing. Just⊠youâre kinda perfect, yâknow?â
You snort under your breath, too tired to fight it. âDonât start.â
He chuckles, nose brushing your hair as he tucks you in closer. âI wonât. Promise.â
Thereâs a pause, just the two of you breathing in sync, his thumb stroking slow circles into your hip. âStay here tonight,â he whispers.
âBut âToru⊠we have class tomorrow.â
He groans dramatically into your skin. âLetâs bunk.â
You snort. âYou say that every time.â
âBecause itâs the right answer every time.â He lifts his head enough to look at you, hair sticking up in every direction, eyes still heavy-lidded but shamelessly clingy. âCâmon. Itâs late. Just stay.â
You hesitate, even though youâre already leaning toward yes. He catches that and nudges his knee between yours, coaxing you closer.
âIâll set an alarm,â he adds. âYou can wear one of my shirts. Iâll even make you coffee in the morning.â
You huff a quiet laugh. âAre you trying to bribe me?â
He shrugs. âDidnât think I had to.â
You roll your eyes, but youâre already settling in again, your cheek resting over his heartbeat. âFine,â you murmur. âBut if we oversleep, Iâm blaming you.â
He hums, content. âThatâs fair.â
So you stay like thatâcomfortable and a little too in love to care about anything. And with Satoruâs arms around youâhis breath steady against your skin, his presence anchoring youâyou drift off. No words needed. Just safe. Just held.
Perfect.
author's note. whoever started the nerdjo agenda, i owe you my firstborn child
please do not steal, modify, or translate my work.
#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#nerdjo#nerdjo smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu gojo#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#gojo jjk#jjk gojo#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo smut#satoru smut#satoru gojo smut
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
rotating Scenarios in my mind but have no ability to actually write them. truly evil
#the only thing i can write rn is lucanis getting his brains fucked out and i canât do that at work.#not in the middle of the office.#iâm rotating so many juicy post-game lucanis/magpie arguments about the first talon situation#i mean honestly neve also argues with them about this. bc she has the only realistic solution (Stop Being First Talon lmao) but#i have a specific scenario in mind neve wasnât present forâŠ.#however itâs one of those things thatâs nothing without the context of the ~2 years before and ~1 year after. LOL#i just think. well. lucanis and neve are both convinced that being first talon will get lucanis and magpie killed#but lucanis doesnât see a way out of it#and magpie doesnât see getting out of it as an Option#and because sheâs who she is that means the only option is getting through it#and Not Dying.#which puts lucanis in the middle of a lot of conversations he doesnât really know how to handle when heâs getting wildly different opinions#from the ppl he trusts the most.#idk i just think this is so juicy.#and i can see the arc of his whole multi-year drama in my head#but making it into words? well#thatâs hard.#lmao#AND ALSO I STILL DONT KNOW IF NEVE IS BLIGHTED. grey warden neve counting the years until she dies and having to wonder if sheâll out live#her partners anyway is like. a different vibe from regular neve watching this all go down#iâll make a final choice once i finish playing her romance#iâm leaning toward her getting blighted bc lucanis being left entirely alone for the weeks magpie is trapped in the fade is so good#but weâll see!#挫èš#datv spoilers#r. make a mercy of me
0 notes
Text
Unintentional couple behaviour





you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?
gn!reader
characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo
(luffy, kidd, katakuri, shanks and mihawk)
words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each
masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi
ââ .⊠Roronoa Zoro:
You do a lot of things for Zoro without thinking.
You wake him up when itâs time to eat. You stop him from training too much. You make sure he doesnât get lost whenever the crew visits a new island.
Itâs normal for you. Someone has to do it.
But one day, the others start teasing you about it.
It happens at lunch. You are eating with the crew when Usopp laughs and nudges your arm.
âHey, arenât you gonna get your boyfriend?â
You blink. âWhat?â
Sanji, cleaning his hands with a towel, nods toward the deck âThat moss-brained idiot. You always bring him to meals. Itâs like a little routine between you two now. Like a coupleâŠâ
âWeâre notââ You nearly choke on your drink âWeâre not a couple!â
Usopp grins âThen why do you always take so much care of him?â
âBecause heâs stupid and forgets to eat!â you say, standing up âIâll go get him, but not because of whatever weird ideas you guys have.â
You walk away while they laugh behind you.
You find Zoro exactly where you expect, napping against the shipâs railing, his swords next to him.
You roll your eyes and shake his shoulder âOi, wake up. Lunch is ready.â
Nothing.
You shake him harder âZoro. If you donât get up, Iâll eat your food.â
He grumbles and waves his hand, like heâs trying to swat away a fly.
Sighing, you do what you always do. You grab his wrist and pull him up with both hands. He lets you. He always does, like itâs natural.
Zoro blinks at you, still half-asleep âHuh. You again.â
âYeah, me again,â you say âCome eat before Sanji âforgetsâ to save you anything.â
Youâre still holding his wrist, making sure he doesnât fall back asleep. Thatâs when you notice Nami and Robin watching from across the deck, smiling.
âWhat?â you ask, feeling awkward.
Nami smirks âYou two are cute.â
Your face heats up âWeâre notâheâs notâweâre not together!â
Robin chuckles âYou do take care of him a lot.â
Zoro frowns, confused âWhat the hell are you talking about?â
âNothing,â you mutterl âCome eat.â
You let go of his wrist too fast and walk away, ignoring the warm feeling in your chest.
You think itâs over, but now you notice things.
Zoro always sits next to you at meals, even when there are other seats. You always save food for him without realizing. And during fights, he always protects you first, like itâs a habit.
And, worst of all, people keep pointing it out.
ây/n,â Chopper asks one day, tilting his head âAre you and Zoro dating?â
You almost trip âWhat?! No!â
âOh...â He looks confused âBut you act like itâ
You groan âNot you tooâ
After that, you canât stop thinking about it.
The next time you wake Zoro up, your fingers stay on his wrist a second too long. The next time he pulls you behind him in a fight, your heart beats faster.
And then one evening, when you catch him watching you with a thoughtful look, you realize you might be in trouble.
That night, Zoro speaks first.
âOiâ
You look up from your seat on the deck âWhat?â
He leans against the railing, arms crossed âDoes it bother you?â
You frown âDoes what bother me?â
âWhat people are sayingâ His eyes stay on you âAbout us.â
You swallow âWhy? Does it bother you?â
He doesnât answer right away âNoâ his voice is quieter than usual.
Your stomach flips and you look at the ocean âI mean⊠itâs just dumb teasing, right?â
Zoro doesnât reply. Instead, he watches you for a long time. Then, finally, he smirks.
âDoesnât really matter what they sayâ he says, voice calm but sure âIâd still stick with you either way.â
Your breath catches and suddenly, your heart wonât let you ignore this anymore.
For the next days you try to brush off what the crew said.
You really do, but itâs impossible to ignore when Zoro keeps acting the same way.
Like when youâre on lookout duty together, and he hands you his jacket without a word.
Or when you spar with him, and he pulls his hits just enough so you donât get hurt.
Or when you fall asleep on the Sunnyâs deck, and you wake up covered with a blanket, one you know you didnât grab.
And every time it happens, you catch the crew watching. Smirking.
Itâs driving you insane.
One afternoon, you finally decide to do something about it.
You find Zoro by the training room, lifting weights. His shirt is half undone, sweat glistening on his skin, but you shove that thought aside.
You cross your arms âHey, Zoro.â
He grunts in acknowledgment, not stopping his reps.
You hesitate ââŠWhy do you treat me differently?â
He finally sets the weight down, wiping his face with a towel âWhat?â
âYou heard me...â You shift uncomfortably âYou do things for me that you donât do for anyone else.â
Zoro leans back against the wall, looking at you like you just asked a stupid question âSo?â
âSo?â You huff âThat means something, doesnât it?â
He shrugs âI guess.â
You blink âThatâs it? You guess?â
Zoro sighs, scratching his head âLook, I donât really think about it. I justââ He pauses, then shrugs again âI want to.â
Your heart skips a beat ââŠWhat?â
âI want to do those things for you,â he says simply âitâs not a big dealâ
You stare at him âNot a... Zoro, are you serious?â
He frowns âWhat, you donât like it?â
âThatâs not the point!â Your face feels hot âYou donât do this for Nami or Robin or anyone else!â
Zoro looks at you, unimpressed âYeah. Because itâs you.â
You freeze.
The way he says it, so blunt, so obvious, it makes your stomach flip.
He isnât flustered. He isnât overthinking it. Heâs just stating a fact.
ââŠOh.â
Zoro crosses his arms, watching you carefully âIs that a problem?â
You swallow âNo. Itâs justâŠâ
Itâs everything. Itâs him always being there, always looking out for you, always treating you like someone important.
Itâs a realization you should have had ages ago.
You let out a breathless laugh âIâm an idiot.â
Zoro raises an eyebrow âWell, yeah.â
You smack his arm. He smirks.
But when your hand lingers just a little too long, he doesnât pull away.
And suddenly, you both understand... this isnât just a habit.
It never was.
Ever since that conversation in the training room, things between you and Zoro have⊠shifted, but not in a bad way.
He still trains for hours. Still naps in random spots. Still bickers with Sanji.
But now, when you sit beside him, his arm naturally rests along the back of your chair.
Now, when you fight, he doesnât just watch your back, he makes sure youâre never out of reach.
Now, when you look at him for a second too long, he looks right back.
Like heâs waiting.
Like heâs giving you the choice.
One evening, you find him on the Sunnyâs deck, looking out at the ocean.
ââŠCanât sleep?â he asks.
You shake your head, stepping closer âThinking too much.â
Zoro smirks âDangerous habit...â
You huff a laugh but donât argue.
Instead, you stand beside him, silent for a moment before you finally ask...
âDo you regret telling me?â
Zoro frowns âTelling you what?â
âThat you⊠actually treat me differently. That you want to.â
His jaw tightens slightly âNo.â
Your heart does something strange âGood.â
You donât give yourself time to hesitate.
Before doubt can creep in, you grab him and pull him down.
Zoro freezes.
For half a second, he doesnât move. Doesnât even breathe.
Then a quiet growl rumbles from his chest, and his hand cups the back of your neck as he kisses you back.
Itâs firm. Solid. Like heâs been holding back for too long and refuses to anymore.
When you finally break apart, Zoro leans his forehead against yours, exhaling through his nose.
ââŠFinallyâ he mutters.
You grin âYou were waiting for me?â
âWasnât gonna rush youâ His fingers brush your jaw âYou get there when you get there.â
You hum, leaning into him âAnd now?â
Zoro smirks âNow, youâre stuck with me.â
You kiss him again, just to make sure he knows you wouldnât want it any other way.
ââ .⊠Vinsmoke Sanji:
Sanji has always been a flirt. Thatâs just how he is.
He calls Nami and Robin âmy loveâ and âmy dearâ. He spins around the kitchen whenever they compliment him. He offers to carry their bags when the crew goes shopping.
But when it comes to you, itâs different.
It starts when the crew is eating dinner together.
âSanji, can you pass the salt?â you ask.
Instead of handing you the salt shaker, Sanji grabs it, twists off the lid, and sprinkles just the right amount onto your plate.
You blink âUh. Thanks?â
âOf course, my dearâ he says smoothly. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns back to his own plate.
You think nothing of it... until you notice the way the others are watching.
Usopp raises an eyebrow âDid he just season your food for you?â
âYeah?â You shrug âWhat's new about it? He's a chef and heâs just being nice.â
Luffy grins âHe doesnât do that for anyone else.â
âThatâs not true,â you argue âSanji treats everyone like this.â
Nami hums âNot exactly like this. If we wanted more salt he would start a lecture about how it would ruin his masterpiece.â
Before you can ask what she means, Sanji stands up to grab dessert. He places a plate in front of you first. Itâs your favorite.
The crew stares.
You stare too âSanjiâŠâ
He smiles âWhat? I made extra for you.â
Usopp coughs âYeah. Okay. Totally normal.â
Robin chuckles behind her hand.
You shake your head and go back to eating. Itâs nothing. Sanji is just being Sanji.
âŠRight?
But then, you start noticing other things.
When youâre cold, Sanji drapes his jacket over your shoulders without you asking.
When you need something from a high shelf, Sanji wordlessly reaches up and hands it to you.
When youâre about to trip, his hand is always there to steady you.
And every time, every single time, he does it so naturally that you donât even think about it.
Until one day, Franky whistles and says, âYou two sure act like a couple.â
You nearly drop the drink in your hands âWhat?!â
Sanji, who was stirring a pot at the stove, pauses.
Franky leans against the counter, grinning âYou two do all that coupley stuff. He gives you the best food, takes care of you, treats you differently from everyone elseââ
âThatâs not true,â you say quickly âSanjiâs like this with everyone.â
Franky snorts âNah. He does flirt with everyone. But this?â He gestures between you and Sanji âThis is different.â
You glance at Sanji. Heâs staring into the pot, silent.
Your face feels hot now âYou guys are reading too much into things.â
âSure we are...â Franky says, smirking. Then he leaves.
The kitchen is quiet now. You swallow and turn to Sanji.
ââŠIs it true?â
He looks at you. His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, thereâs something softer in his eyes.
âI donât knowâ he says âis it?â
Your heartbeat quickens.
Suddenly, every touch, every sweet gesture, it all feels different.
Maybe it wasnât just a habit.
Maybe it was something else all along.
After all this the teasing has only gotten worse.
Ever since Nami and Usopp pointed out how Sanji treats you, they will not let it go.
âHere comes Sanjiâs beloveeeed~â Usopp sings when you walk into the kitchen.
âI should start charging you for all the extra food Sanji makes only for youâ Nami smirks.
Even Luffy, who usually doesnât care about these things, grins at Sanji one afternoon and says âOi, cook, when are you gonna marry y/n?â
Sanji chokes on his cigarette so hard he has to brace himself on the counter.
You groan and drag a hand down your face.
But what really drives you insane?
Sanji never denies it.
He stutters, blushes, waves his hands, but he never says âThatâs not true.â
Because it is true.
And itâs starting to drive you crazy.
You try to ignore it. But then you start noticing things, even the smallest ones.
Sanji never lets you carry anything heavy.
He always pours you tea first, even before Nami and Robin.
He adjusts your chair at dinner like itâs second nature.
And the worst part? He doesnât even realize heâs doing it.
But you do.
And now, every time he gives you that lookâthe one thatâs soft, full of admiration, like you hung the damn sun in the skyâyour heart stumbles over itself.
This has to stop.
Or something has to change.
It happens one evening after dinner.
Youâre in the kitchen, helping Sanji clean up. He hums as he washes the dishes, sleeves rolled up, golden hair falling over his forehead.
You watch him for a second, then take a deep breath.
âSanji.â
He glances at you, smiling âYes, my love?â
You grip the counter âWhy do you act like weâre together?â
Sanji freezes.
The faucet keeps running. The kitchen is warm with the smell of spices. But Sanji is frozen.
Slowly, he turns his head toward you ââŠP-Pardon?â
You cross your arms âYou treat me differently. Even the crew notices. You never do this stuff for anyone else.â
Sanji swallows hard âIââ
âYou never deny it,â you press âand honestly? Iâm tired of waiting for you to finally say something.â
Sanji stares at you like youâve just flipped his entire world upside down.
His hands shake. His lips part like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.
ââŠSanji.â Your voice softens âDo you want this to be real?â
A shuddering breath leaves him. He looks at you, eyes wide, vulnerable.
âMore than anything...â he whispers.
Your heartbeat stutters.
Thatâs it. Thatâs all you need to hear.
You step forward, grab the front of his shirt, and kiss him.
Sanji malfunctions.
His entire body locks up, like his brain has completely short-circuited.
For a solid two seconds, he does not move.
Then a noise escapes him, something between a whimper and a desperate sigh, and his hands come up to cup your face, pulling you closer.
The kiss is warm, overwhelming, but soft, like heâs afraid youâll disappear if he holds on too tight.
When you finally pull away, heâs redder than his own suit.
ââŠM-Mon amour,â he breathes, voice shaking âYou...you actually...â
You smirk âTook us long enough, cook.â
Sanji makes a strangled sound and immediately buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you.
Outside, the crew is losing their minds.
âTOLD YOU!â Usopp shouts.
âI WON THE BET!â Nami cheers.
âOi, Sanji, you alive in there?â Zoro snickers.
Sanji doesnât answer. Heâs too busy melting against you, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.
And honestly?
You think youâll let him.
ââ .⊠Trafalgar D. Law:
Law is not the kind of person who likes physical contact. He doesnât let most people touch him. He keeps his distance, always standing at the edge of conversations with his arms crossed. If someone bumps into him, they get a glare.
But for some reason, you are different.
It starts when Bepo hands you a coat one evening.
âHere,â he says, tail flicking âyou left this in the lounge.â
You blink at it. Itâs black, long, and definitely not yours.
âThis isnât mineâ you say, confused.
Bepo tilts his head âOh. But you always wear the captainâs coat, so I thought it was yours now...â
You freeze.
âWait. What?â
Shachi walks by and hears the conversation. He grins âYeah, you totally do. Every time youâre cold, you steal his coat.â
Penguin nods âAnd Law never complains.â
You open your mouth. Close it. Try to remember.
âŠOkay, maybe you have borrowed Lawâs coat a few times. But thatâs just because itâs warm! And because itâs there! And because...
Oh no.
Your stomach twists âI... I do not...â
âSure you donât...â Shachi teases âWhatâs next? Calling him âdearâ?â
You groan and shove the coat at Bepo before walking away.
But now, you canât stop thinking about it.
After this, you start noticing other things. Like how Law always lets you into his personal space.
How you can tug his hat down over his eyes without him pushing you away.
How he casually rests his hand on your shoulder when he stands next to you.
One day, you trip over a loose crate. Before you even hit the ground, a familiar blue glow surrounds you... Lawâs Room.
In an instant, youâre back on your feet, completely unharmed.
The Heart Pirates snicker.
âCaptain didnât even thinkâ Penguin whispers.
âHe never uses Room for anyone elseâs clumsinessâ Shachi adds.
You glare at them âI heard that.â
They just smirk.
Law doesnât say anything. He just sighs and keeps walking, like saving you without thinking is the most natural thing in the world.
Your heart does something weird. You ignore it.
Later, you sit on a crate, arms crossed. Law stands next to you, reading a medical book.
You glance at him âYour crew keeps calling me âCaptainâs partner.ââ
He doesnât look up âSo?â
âSo, why?â
He flips a page âProbably because you act like one.â
Your brain short-circuits.
You stare âExcuse me?â
Law finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow âYouâre always in my quarters, you steal my coat, and you act like you belong next to me. Theyâre not wrong.â
Your face burns âI... You let me do all that!â
He smirks âI know.â
You open your mouth, but no words come out.
Because suddenly, you realize... he has let you. And he still is.
Ever since Bepo and the others pointed out how Law treats you differently, itâs been impossible to ignore.
The extra care during missions. The way he always stands just a little closer than necessary. The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his shoulder, even his hand, when no one else would dare.
But what really gives him away?
The way his ears burn red every time you get too close.
And yet he never says anything.
If you didnât know better, youâd think he was running an experiment to see how long he could keep this up before you lost your mind.
So tonight youâre calling him out.
You find him in his quarters, buried in medical books.
âHey, Law.â You lean against the desk, arms crossed âCan I ask you something?â
His eyes flick up âWhat?â
You tilt your head âDo you like me?â
Law chokes.
Not just a little cough... he full-on chokes on air, slamming his book shut as if thatâll somehow save him.
âWhatâ?!â He coughs into his fist âWhere the hell did that come from?â
You raise an eyebrow âYou tell me.â
Law scowls, shifting uncomfortably âYouâre being ridiculous.â
âOh? Am I?â You step closer.
He stiffens âWhat are you...?â
You place your hands on the arms of his chair and lean in, caging him in.
His breath hitches.
Oh. Oh.
He is not prepared for this.
âLaw,â you murmur, watching his face closely âyou never let anyone touch you, but you let me.â
His jaw clenches âThat doesnâtââ
âYou always make sure I rest. You check my injuries before anyone elseâs.â
âBecause youâre recklessââ
âAnd...â you lean even closer âyour ears are red right now.â
Law swallows.
You smirk âSo, wanna try again?â
For a long moment, he just stares at you, lips parted, golden eyes darting between yours.
Then, in a last-ditch effort, he growls... âYouâre annoying.â
You hum âMaybe.â
And then you kiss him.
Law goes still.
For the first time since youâve known him, he is completely speechless.
But then a quiet sound escapes him, and his hand suddenly grips your wrist, holding you there.
You almost pull back, unsure, until his other hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you back.
Itâs hesitant at first, but when you donât pull away, something shifts.
The kiss deepens, his grip tightens, and the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you dizzy.
When you finally part, Law exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours.
ââŠYouâre gonna be a problemâ he mutters, voice rough.
You grin âYeah?â
His fingers tighten in your hair âYeah.â
And then, despite everything, he kisses you again.
Because for once in his life heâs done running.
ââ .⊠Portgas D. Ace:
Ace is naturally affectionate.
He throws an arm around peopleâs shoulders, laughs loudly, and grins like the world is a joke heâs in on. Heâs warm but also because he makes people feel welcome.
So itâs not weird that he touches you a lot.
Right?
It starts when Marco sits down next to you, smirking.
âYou and Ace finally together, yoi?â
You look at him confused âwhat do you mean?â
âA couple⊠are you two a couple?â
You almost drop your drink âWhat? No!â
Marco raises an eyebrow âYou sure? He always saves you a seat at meals. Always gives you his food if you ask. Always keeps an eye on you during fights.â
You roll your eyes âThat doesnât mean anything. Heâs just like that.â
âNot with everyoneâ Marco takes a sip of his drink âJust you.â
You open your mouth to argue, but then you donât know what to say, because now, youâre thinking about it.
The next time Ace sits beside you at dinner, you notice how he slides his plate a little closer to yours, letting you steal his food.
The next time the crew docks at an island, you notice how he instinctively waits for you before walking off together.
The next time youâre about to trip, you donât even get the chance to fall, Ace grabs your wrist and steadies you like itâs second nature.
And maybe it is second nature.
âCareful, Ace,â one of the division commanders teases âIf you keep acting like that, y/n might actually think youâre in love.â
Ace laughs, scratching the back of his head âYeah, yeah.â
You laugh too. Because itâs just a joke⊠Right?
One night, you sit together on the deck, watching the ocean.
You fidget for a second before saying âThe crew keeps calling us a coupleâ
Ace hums âYeah?â
You glance at him âWhy do you think that is?â
He leans back, arms behind his head, and grins âProbably because we act like one.â
You choke on your own breath âExcuse me?!â
Ace tilts his head âI mean, we do everything together. You always take my food, and I always let you. You always pull me out of trouble, and I always let you. Feels natural, doesnât it?â
Your brain short-circuits.
Because now that you think about it... yeah, it does feel natural.
ââŠAce,â you say slowly âAre we...?â
He looks at you, amusement flickering in his eyes âWhat do you think?â
Your stomach flips.
Because suddenly, youâre not sure where the habit ends and the feelings begin.
After this, Ace keeps flirting with you all the time.
Itâs just who he is.
Winks across the deck. Throwing an arm around your shoulders. Calling you hot stuff like itâs your actual name.
Youâre used to it.
But after the teasing from Marco and Thatch, after realizing that Ace treats you differently, you start to wonder.
Is he just playing around? Or is there something real underneath?
Thereâs only one way to find out.
The perfect opportunity comes one afternoon, when Ace flops down next to you on the Moby Dickâs deck, grinning.
âHey,â he drawls, resting an arm behind his head âMiss me?â
You smirk âI saw you literally two hours ago.â
âThatâs two hours too long.â He winks âBet you were thinking about me the whole time.â
You hum, tilting your head âYou really think that, huh?â
Ace chuckles âCâmon, you love me.â
You raise an eyebrow âProve it.â
He blinks âHuh?â
You shift, leaning closer with a sly smile âYou say all this stuff, Ace. You flirt, you tease... but are you actually serious?â
For the first time, he hesitates.
Just for a second, but itâs enough.
ââŠOf course I am,â he says, but his usual confidence isnât all there.
You smirk âThen show me.â
Before he can react, you grab his hat, his precious hat, and plop it onto your own head.
Ace short-circuits.
âOi! Thatâs...!â He reaches for it instinctively but stops mid-motion, staring at you.
You tilt the brim with a smirk âWhat? You said you liked me, right?â
Ace swallows âY-Yeah?â
âThen just take it back.â
You expect him to snatch it back playfully.
What you donât expect is for Ace to grin, eyes flickering with mischief, and suddenly tackle you onto the deck.
You yelp as he hovers over you, forearms braced on either side of your head.
The crew whoops in the background, but neither of you pay them any attention.
Ace smirks down at you âYou think youâre funny, huh?â
You grin âA little.â
Ace shakes his head, chuckling, but then his expression softens.
He reaches up, tilts the hat back just enough to see your face properly.
And then without thinking he leans down and kisses you.
Itâs grinning into the kiss kind of playful. Itâs warm and teasing but full of something deeper.
And when he pulls back, face way too close, he murmurs âNow you gotta prove it.â
Your heart races.
You donât back down. Instead, you tug him down by his necklace and kiss him again.
This time, Ace melts.
When you finally break apart, Ace huffs out a breathless laugh.
âWell,â he grins âGuess you do love me.â
You roll your eyes âShut up.â
But you donât stop him when he kisses you one more time.
Because, honestly?
Heâs right.
ââ .⊠Sabo:
Sabo is easy to be around.
Heâs kind, smart, and always ready to listen. He laughs at your jokes, never forgets your favorite things, and somehow always knows when you need him.
So itâs no surprise that you spend a lot of time together.
But apparently, the way you act around him is a little⊠suspicious.
It starts when youâre walking through the Revolutionary Army base with Koala.
âSo,â she says casually âwhen are you and Sabo going to make it official?â
You nearly trip over your own feet âWhat?!â
Koala grins âCome on, donât play dumb. You two already act like a couple.â
You scoff âNo, we donât.â
She raises an eyebrow âOh really? Whoâs the first person Sabo looks for when he gets back from a mission?â
ââŠMe.â
âWhoâs the only person he lets borrow his gloves?â
ââŠMe.â
âAnd whoâs the only one he lets fall asleep on his shoulder without complaining?â
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.
Becauseâoh.
Oh.
Koala smirks âSee what I mean?â
You shake your head âThat doesnât mean anything. Weâre just close.â
She shrugs âIf you say so.â
But now, you canât stop thinking about it. You start noticing things, like how Sabo always finds a reason to sit next to you during meals, or how he reaches out to fix your collar or tuck your hair behind your ear like itâs normal, or how he always makes sure you have a blanket when you fall asleep at your desk, even though no one else gets that treatment.
And the worst part?
Now that youâre paying attention, everyone else is too.
âI swear, itâs like theyâre marriedâ one soldier mutters.
âThey finish each otherâs sentencesâ another whispers.
âBet they donât even realizeâ someone else chuckles.
You groan and drop your head onto the table.
Sabo, sitting beside you, blinks âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothingâ you mumble.
He frowns, then wordlessly slides his drink toward you.
You stare at it ââŠDid you just give me your drink?â
He shrugs âYou like it more than I do.â
You glance around. Several soldiers are watching now, smirking.
Slowly, you push the drink back to him.
Sabo looks confused âYou donât want it?â
Your face burns âNope. Iâm fine.â
He tilts his head, then shrugs and takes a sip.
The others snicker.
You sigh.
Later that night, you sit beside him on the rooftop, watching the stars.
âSabo,â you say carefully âdo we⊠act like a couple?â
He hums âWhy?â
âPeople keep saying we do.â
Sabo leans back on his hands, thinking. Then he smiles âI guess I can see why.â
Your heart skips a beat âYou can?â
âWell, weâre always together,â he says easily âI trust you more than anyone. You take care of me, I take care of you. Feels normal.â
You stare at him âThatâs⊠kind of a couple thing, donât you think?â
Sabo looks at you for a long moment. Then he smirks.
âWell,â he says, voice teasing but gentle âdo you want it to be?â
Your breath catches.
And suddenly, the answer seems obvious.
Sabo has always been easy to be around.
You never have to force a conversation. Never have to second-guess his presence.
Heâs just there, a steady warmth beside you, the hand that always steadies your back when you walk through the Revolutionary camp, the person you find yourself naturally leaning against when youâre tired.
And the thing is?
He never pulls away.
Even now, sitting beside you near the fire after a long day, his arm rests lightly along the back of your seat. Close enough to feel, but not demanding.
Itâs natural.
But tonight, somethingâs different.
Thereâs a quiet between you, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unsaid.
You donât know who moves first, but suddenly your head is resting against his shoulder, and instead of shifting away, Sabo just exhales softly, tilting his head against yours.
You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
ââŠI like thisâ you murmur, barely thinking.
Sabo hums âMe tooâ A pause. Then... âI always have.â
Your heart stutters.
Slowly, you lift your head, turning just enough to meet his gaze.
His expression is calm, too calm, like heâs waiting for you to understand something heâs known for a long time.
And you do.
Because of course it was always him.
You donât say anything. You donât need to.
Instead, you reach up, gently tracing your fingers along his jaw.
Sabo closes his eyes briefly at the touch before opening them again, watching you with something unreadable, something deep.
Then, without hesitation, he leans in.
The kiss is slow, certain.
Itâs not rushed, not desperate because this was never a question.
It was always going to be this.
When you part, Sabo lingers, his forehead resting against yours.
His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together easily.
ââŠFeels like we shouldâve done that a long time agoâ he murmurs, lips brushing against yours.
You smile âMaybe. But I think we got here at the right time.â
Sabo chuckles softly, squeezing your hand âYeah. I think so too.â
And when he kisses you again, it feels like something that was simply meant to be.
#zoro#sanji#law#ace#sabo#one piece#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#trafalgar law#one piece fluff#one piece fic#one piece scenarios#one piece x yn#portgas ace x reader#ace x reader#sabo x reader#sanji x reader#zoro x reader#zoro fanfic#ace fanfic#law fanfic#sanji fanfic#sabo x you#sabo fluff#sabo fanfic#law x reader#trafalgar law x reader
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
àšà§ â The flickering neon sign outside Toji's shitty little apartment paints his sweat-slicked back in a red glow as he slams into you, bare with no condom this time. His rough calloused hands bite into your hips hard enough to bruise, the smack of skin on skin drowning out the choked whimpers you can't stop.
"Look at you," he growls, voice gravel drenched and smug. A thick vein pulses along his cock as he drags it out slow -too slow- just to watch your pussy flutter, desperate and empty, "Clenchinâ like a fuckinâ virgin around me every goddamn time. Begginâ me to stay." His thumb swipes through the mess dripping down your thigh, shoving two fingers past your parted lips without warning, "Taste that? All you. No rubber bullshit ruining the flavor... Or fun."
You gag around his digits, tears pricking your eyes as he rams back in with a squelch. The obscene wetness of him splitting you raw makes your toes curl. Heâs right -fuck heâs right- every drag of his bare cock lights your nerves like kerosene. Â
"Shoulda seen your face," he laughs, hips snapping forward to nail your cervix in a way that makes you see stars. The headboard cracks against the wall, your nails scratching red angry lines into his back. It's too good, so fucking good, but the thought of him filling you up like this- "Eyes wide, screaminâ âToji, please, Iâm not on the pill-!" His mimicry of your panic is vicious, mocking, "Too late now, princess, I'm gonna pump your womb full 'til it takes."
You feel him swell, thicker, hotter. Panic claws up your throat, "Wait-wait, I canât-!" Despite your protests you can't help but pull him closer, thighs wrapped tight around his waist as he hammers home again and again, a broken mantra of, "Oh fuck oh fuck oh~-"
Toji cuts you off with a snarl, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your pulse hammer under his palm, "You can."
Itâs the way he says it -like a vow, like a curse- that unravels you. Your legs tremble around his waist, heels digging into the muscles rippling across his lower back, "S'too good- T-Toji~âĄ!!! Please don-don't stop!! D-Don't p-pull out~âĄ! Make me a mother~"Â
He grins, all teeth, "There it is."Â Â
ââââââââââââââââââÂ
Toji Zenin hates condoms because he needs you to feel it- the primal, filthy truth of him branding your insides. The schlick of your juices mixing with his cum, the way your walls spasm when his tip kisses your cervix. He wants you dripping him for days, every step a reminder of how he utterly ruined you. No one could ever satisfy you the way he does.
But more than that? Â
He hates them because latex canât give you his kid.
His favorite girl, you- the woman he can picture with a tiny diamond on your ring, belly swollen and soft. The idea of you carrying his brat makes his cock ache and his teeth grind. He imagines you walking around, round and glowing. Your tits, heavy with milk, aching for his mouth.
"Sâwhy you keep cominâ back, right?" he mutters later, holding your limp body close as he licks the sweat from your neck. He rubs your stomach, still flat, but not for long, "Deep down⊠you want me to put a baby in you."
Toji can see it now- a boy, with his jawline and his eyes. A girl, with your smile and his nose. A handful of tiny brats, all perfect.
He knows it would be a mistake. A kid deserves better than a monster, a man who can count his friends on one hand. Toji will never be anything more than a glorified hired body. But the thought is tempting.
"Imagine my brat, growinâ in that pretty belly. Havin' family dinners⊠Soccer games⊠Movie nightsâŠ"
He's not the kind of guy you can build a life with. Too rough, too wild, too dangerous. But Toji can't deny the way his heart clenches at the idea.
"Fuck, baby⊠That'd make me so fucking happyâŠ"
Toji Zenin hates condoms because, maybe, just maybe⊠He'd like a family to actually call his own.
#toji zenin x reader#soft toji#toji smut#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#jjk smut#toji drabble#jjk x you#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen smut
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
husband!simon riley follows you around like a lost dog 24/7.
whether it be in the comfort of your own home, or out in public, the man is basically your shadow. like a moth to a flame, he is the moth and you're his flame.
it doesn't matter where you saunter off to, chances are, he's stomping right after you. Around your house, he's following you to every room.
need the bathroom? keep the door open, he'll lean against it with his arms crossed over his chest, either watching you silently or tapping away on his phone.
cooking in the kitchen? he's hovering over your shoulder. you can't count the amount of times on one hand you bumped into his broad, brutish chest, stepped on his foot, or, definitely not on purpose, whacked his groin with a small pan. still, he never learns.
watching TV in the living room? you best bet he's going to sit his big ass right next to you. even if you're on the single person armchair, he'll squish you into the armrest if it meant being next to you.
showering? not without him because he'll join you, and find a way to release pent-up need at the same time, that is if you aren't already stressed that day, then he'll just wash your hair and run a relaxing bath for you to soak in peace afterwards.
In public, people give him weird side glances, numerous occasions where you've had concerned folks tap you on your shoulder and give a small point over your shoulder, to which you reply sweetly with the biggest smile on your face, "oh, that's just my husband!"
he keeps a thick finger hooked into the waistband of your pants, or shorts, or looped in one of your belt loops to keep you near him. since you're much smaller than him, it can be easy for you to get lost in big crowds, and this just assures simon that you're never out of reach.
it's a funny thing to watch for the guys to watch, observing their lieutenant follow you around aimlessly like a big puppy, eyes soft as he gazes down at you, sharpening when another person approaches or observing.
you think it comes from never being able to control his surroundings, his obsessive need to keep you safe, more so now that you have a wedding ring on your finger, forever tying you to him. not physically, but he wouldn't hesitate to if it meant keeping you safe.
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#simon ghost fluff#simon x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost headcanons#ghost simon riley#ghost mw2#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#simon riley fluff#simon riley x afab reader#simon riley x female reader
14K notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 3 of Simon Leaving During Sex Like a Coward
It started with flowers. Itâs not the kind you grab at the corner store in a panic, but ones clearly ordered days in advance â expensive, moody ones, all dark reds and deep purples. You didnât open the door when they arrived immediately. You just stood behind it, your arms crossed, and watched them through the peephole before deciding to get them.
On day two, he texted.
I know I donât deserve a reply. I just want you to know Iâm not giving up.
You left it on read on purpose. And it felt good.
On day three, he was parked outside your building when you came back from work. Just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking up when you approached, but not moving toward you.
âYou stalking me now?â You said, not slowing your pace.
He didnât smile. âNo. Iâm just here in case you feel like yelling at me in person today.â
You didnât. You went upstairs and slammed the door a little harder than necessary, and when you looked out the window twenty minutes later, he was still standing there, doing absolutely nothing. Just waiting. Like a dog. A huge, sad, apologetic dog.
You caved on day five.
âFine,â youâd said, opening the door just enough to stare at him through the gap. âYou want a chance? Take me out. And I swear to God if you bring me to some âcozy little placeâ where the waitress flirts with you, I will throw your wallet in a river.â
He didnât even blink. âGot it.â
The first date was at a sushi place where the staff barely looked up. You sat across from him in silence until he cleared his throat.
âYou look good,â he said, nervous in a way youâd never seen before.
âI know.â
He cracked a smile. You didnât.
For a second date, he chose a little cafe by the river. You sipped your drink while he talked about stupid things, about his neighbor's cat and how he chipped a tooth once in a pub fight because he tripped over a pool cue â anything to fill the space. You just listened.
âYou donât say much anymore,â he said quietly after a while.
âI said you could take me out. Didnât say Iâd make it easy.â
He nodded, like he agreed with the punishment.
On the third date, he let you choose. You picked laser tag. You didnât go easy. You shot him in the back six times and made fun of how slow he was, called him grandpa, and asked if he needed a sit-down break. He called you a menace and grinned through all of it. When the round ended, and you were both panting in the hallway, he looked at you with something like relief.
âYou smiled,â he said, like it physically pained him to notice.
âIt was at your expense,â you said, wiping sweat from your neck.
âStill counts.â
By the fifth date, you were letting him walk beside you without an awkward amount of space. Still no kissing. He reached for your hand once, and you pulled away with a look so sharp he apologized out loud.
âYou donât get to touch me yet,â you said.
âRight.â
âBut you can carry my leftovers.â
âYes maâam.â
He got the tattoo on a Tuesday.
Didnât tell you about it. He just showed up at your door again, holding your favorite overpriced dessert like it was a peace offering. You opened the door and immediately raised an eyebrow.
âNo flowers today?â
âDidnât think theyâd survive the guilt trip you were gonna hit me with.â
âSmart.â
He stepped inside when you let him. âI got something,â he said, scratching the back of his neck.
âIf itâs another apology letter Iâm gonna start framing them like art.â You said with a smirk on your face.
He didnât say anything. Just tugged off his glove and held up his left hand. On the inside of his ring finger, you could see fresh ink. Your name in cursive letters.
ââŠAre you serious?â
âDead.â
You stared. âYou tattooed my name on your ring finger.â
âMhm.â
âLike. Where a ring would go.â
âExactly.â
You blinked at him, still shocked.
âIf this doesnât prove how sure I am about you,â he said slowly, âthen I dunno what will⊠but just to be safeââ He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, sleek black bag from that stupid luxury brand you once mentioned in passing. âBribery.â
You snorted despite yourself. âYou really think a designer bagâs gonna make me forgive you?â
He looked sheepish. âNo. But I thought itâd make you laugh.â
You took it from his hand. âIâll laugh when I sell it and buy ten pairs of shoes.â
âThatâs fair.â
You opened the bag. Inside was your favorite candy, a folded napkin from the cafe, and a tiny note that said âI remember everything.â
You didnât say anything for a long moment. Then...
âYouâre really not gonna give up, huh?â
âNever.â
You sighed. âFine. You can kiss my forehead.â
He chuckled as he leaned in gently, pressed his lips just there, warm and steady, and didnât ask for more.
It wasnât until weeks later, after more petty jokes and slow conversations and him learning exactly how many hoops youâd make him jump through, that you finally let him spend the night again. You were already in bed when he came back from brushing his teeth, and you didnât say anything as he slipped under the covers. Just pulled him in, hands on his chest, legs sliding over his, the way they used to.
He kissed you carefully. Like he didnât want to push it. But you tugged him in with both hands, and he pressed you down into the mattress like it hadnât been months, like he was starving for every second of you.
When he was finally inside you again, moving slowly, sweat running down his spine, and arms shaking from trying to hold back, he looked at you like he could cry.
âI love you,â he said, voice breaking open on the words.
You rolled your eyes, breathless. âIs it my turn now to leave orrâŠ?â
He groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder, muttering something about you being a nightmare, and you just laughed and wrapped your legs around him tighter, because you knew damn well he liked it that way.
---------------------------------------------
idkkk....i kinda lost inspiration halfway...sorry if this sucks..
@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbaybay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x female oc#simon riley imagine#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Really?" Toji asks, nudging your shoulder to wake you up, when he gets a good look at your back turned to him. His voice is slightly raspy with sleep, low in volume from its lack of use.
"Mm..." you hum in response, eyes shut as you try to ease back into slumber. You're in a curled position, your limbs wrapped around one of your extra pillows.
"Really?" Toji repeats, pawing at your shoulder, again.
"Yes, Toji," you say, quietly, not understanding what he's talking about, but agreeing just so that you can get back to sleep.
"Be serious, ma. Really?"
"What?" You ask, your tone somewhat laced with irritation, now.
It goes quiet for a few seconds, and then out of nowhere you hear the sheets rustling and the bed feels lighter. You're thinking there's no way he's so upset that he's leaving the room to sleep on the couch. He's the one who seemingly didn't want to cuddle, so you made do with what you had and grabbed a pillow.
You're snapped out of your attempt to go back to sleep when you feel your pillow trying to be yanked out of your arms.
"Let go of it," Toji mutters.
"What-" you grunt as you pull back and attempt to keep the pillow in your grasp. "What are you doing? Get back in bed, Toji." You hold on as tight as you can to the pillow that is slowly being torn out of your hands. "You're not gonna like when I let go and you're flung towards the wall."
"And you're not gonna like the punishment you earn if that happens. Let go of the pillow. Now."
You stare Toji down, holding your own against him. You know this isn't all of his strength and that he can easily rip the pillow out of your clutches, if he really wanted to, but like a dog with something it shouldn't have in its mouth, you're unwilling to do what he says.
"Listen up, doll, if you don't let go in the next five seconds, you're in for it."
"You're the one who pushed me away."
"Five."
"I need to hug something to sleep comfortably."
"Four."
"It's a pillow, Toji," you say, incredulously.
"Three."
"You're gonna take away my source of comfort?"
"Two."
"Toji."
"One. Let go."
"Oh my god," you groan, irritatedly. "Fine." You release the pillow, allowing Toji to take it away. You watch in disbelief as he throws it at the door so you can't get it without leaving the bed. You huff and scoot as close as you comfortably can to your end of the bed without falling off, before he returns to his side.
"Geeet back here." An arm is thrown over your waist, dragging you closer towards the center of the bed, until your back meets his front and his legs are tangled with yours. "Where are you going, huh? Still chasing after that pillow?"
"All of a sudden you wanna be close to me?" You scoff, in disbelief.
"So much attitude," he murmurs. His hand goes under your shirt, gliding up your warm skin to rest on your tummy. "Need me to give it to you all seven days, now?"
"No," you grumble.
"Well, that's what it's sounding like, to me." A kiss is planted on your shoulder. "Fix that tone, mama."
"You're so unfair. You're the one who didn't want to be held, but as soon as you noticed that I wasn't holding you, you took away my source of comfort. What did you want me to do, Toji?"
"I didn't even push you away, I rolled away in my sleep. It doesn't count."
You just hum in response, no longer in the mood to bicker about something so trivial when you could be working on getting back to sleep. A few seconds of silence go by, a spark of tension formed due to your lack of words.
"Ma?" He calls, barely pinching your soft, warm skin.
You sigh, blinking your eyes open. "What?"
"You mad?" His hand flattens on your tummy, rubbing slowly, as he waits for you to respond.
"No," you say, quiet and icy, even in its subtlety.
"That's a lie," Toji says, chuckling. "Come on, doll. What's got you all hot?"
It's hard not to melt into his touch. The kisses he presses to your shoulder only add on to the difficulty.
"Doesn't matter," you say, still trying to remain stoic.
"Yeah, it does. Now, tell me," he insists. "You're really gonna make me beg at almost two in the morning?"
"I was sleeping, and you woke me up 'cause you were butthurt over me hugging a pillow. There. Does that satisfy you?" You respond, and Toji has the audacity to laugh. You want to laugh too, but your stubbornness and pride will not easily allow you to.
"Poor baby," he coos, a mocking lilt to his tone. "You wanna tell me how to make it better?"
"You're an ass," you bite, no sharpness in your tone whatsoever.
"Ooh, I can hear that pout. You want a kiss? 'Cause I can give you one," he whispers, in your ear.
"Shut up," you mumble, trying not to give away the curling of your lips.
"You want a baby in here?" He asks, gently pressing into your stomach with his index finger.
"No! What?" You say, your giggles finally beginning to surface.
"Gotcha. Made you laugh," he says, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. He presses a kiss to the area before squeezing you in his arms, tight enough to make you groan until he eases up. "Now, tell me how to make it better. Come on, ma. It's not good to go to sleep mad."
You sigh, not wanting to argue with this annoying, yet, charming man, anymore. "Just help me get back to sleep," you mumble.
"Oh, I can do that," he says, a low chuckle homing into your ears. His hand lifts your shirt up more, aiming to get more access to your chest.
"Not like that, you perv!" You chide, pinning his hand on your mid-center. "Can you do that thing you always do?" You guide his hand down, until it rests just above your navel. He knows what you mean, and if this is what it takes for you to not be mad at him, he'll do it.
"You're like a baby that needs to be soothed to sleep," Toji murmurs, as he begins caressing your tummy, drawing little shapes on your skin that fuel your tiredness.
You huff out a laugh. "Acting like you don't drool and snore the second I start playing with your hair when you lay your head on my chest."
#toji#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x you
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
đđđđđđđđ | bob reynolds
(gif credits to @tomundsen )
âsummary: it's the first time you're wearing your new suit as an official (new) avenger and bob is a little too excited about it. âpairing: bob reynolds x female!avenger!reader âword count: 7k (oops) âcontent: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, p in v sex, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some porn with some plot, fingering, he talks to you through it, really passionate sex, a lot, lot of body worship, praise kink goes brrr, sub!bob, bob just loves his powerful strong girl too much. confident and self-assured bob is so dear to me.
writerâs note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!


âHâhey, here's your milkâ woah,â Bob interrupted himself when he finally lifted his gaze from the floor so he could look at you. His eyes fell on your figure, roaming up and down shamelessly, scanning in wonder-struck silence at the way you looked in the new suit.Â
You were in front of your full-length mirror, analyzing with squinted eyes the way the suit that had just arrived, restyled and upgraded, looked on you. All the details you had mentioned were fixed now.
It looked good on you, you thought. It fit your body like a second skin though. But the fabric was pretty much perfect, it was comfy and flexible, it was designed to match your abilities and fighting style, without excessively exposing you.
And you still had to put on the cape, a feature Valentina had insisted on adding to the final look, that way you would impose more respect and appear more intimidating, according to her.
Bob stood frozen at the entrance of your room, in his hands he was carrying cups of milkshake he had ordered not too long ago, one of them probably meant for you.
Even though you had told him many times that you didn't like to eat or drink before a mission, he did it anyway. He cared too much about you to not to. So every time he ordered himself something, he had to order something for you as well.
âThank you, Bob,â you offered him a kind smile nonetheless in appreciation, turning your head so that you could face him. His countenance was all flushed red and the content of the cups swirled a bit with the tremor of his hands.
âCan you help me with the cape?â you then asked, watching him as he awkwardly set the cups down on the small coffee table in the center of your bedroom before making his way towards you with swift steps, as if you were the center of gravity of the entire universe, of his universe.
He couldn't control how his eyes drifted down from your face and swept along your back, drinking in every curve, every outline of your gorgeous, perfect figure, relishing in the way the tight black fabric clung to your body like a second skin.Â
Bob's gaze traced a very slow scan across your lower back, through the shape of your hips, the curve of your ass, the complex of your thighsâ
âIsn't it too much?â you wondered out loud, making him flinch. Your eyes were looking at him through the reflection of the mirror as Bob stumbled to set the cape where it supposed to be, hooking it onto your shoulders very carefully, with trembling fingers.Â
You could catch a glimpse through the mirror of the way his eyes were glowing under the soft yellowish light of your room, you could see your own reflection within them, melting into all the darkness of his particularly dilated pupils. The darkness in his eyes surrounded you completely.
He finished settling the cape on your back and Bob took a couple of steps back from you, permitting himself to gaze at you in awe, his mouth falling half-open.
âYou'reâ you look nice.â He responded to you, in a stammering but entirely truthful voice, nerves racing on his tongue as he pronounced one of the many compliments that were flooding his head as he ogled you with big eyes. âLâlike, really nice.â
He nodded his head in a short frenzy, approving the words from himself. Then his eyes searched yours through the reflection of the mirror and he found himself swooning as you spun around to face him, your cape twirling in the air with the effortlessly graceful motion.
You raised an eyebrow as you saw how Bob held his hands out in front of him, fingers clasped together casually. He kept an innocent visage, though his cheeks were flushed, nervous eyes dropping to the ground as he saw you walking towards him in all your glory and beauty, like a goddess stepping down from the heavens. And you didn't have to coax him into surrendering to you, he already stood in the palm of your hand, wrapped around your pretty finger.
You flustered him so much it was silly. Every step you took stirred an earthquake inside him.
He was as yours as the sun is to the moon, as darkness is to light, as craving is to love.
His heart raced as you stood in front of him, gazing at him from all your power and majesty. And Bob knew he was long gone.
âAre you okay?â you asked him in a tone that conveyed raw concern, just as much as what your eyes shared with his in their familiar, heart-warming silent intimacy.
You had your head slightly tilted and your brow just barely furrowed in worry. You looked so beautiful, so cute, that you had him speechless for a few moments.
âYâyes, Iââ Bob stuttered, jerking his head gently, dismissing any sign of worry he might spark in you. âI'll sâsee you after the missionââ
Immediately after that, he rushed to grab his beloved milkshake, flashed you a lopsided smile all crooked with nervousness and stormed out of your room, almost tripping over the box full of vinyls you had yet to organize on the shelves.
Shortly before he left, Bob turned once more to look at you, with that sheepish little grin curving his lips and you noticed how he struggled to hold his cup of milkshake now low in front of him, trying to cover up the prominent bulge that had grown painfully harder the more he watched you in that suit.
And then he just disappeared.
You stood in silence, dumbfounded, staring at your door with puzzled eyes and gaping mouth. Then you glanced down at yourself, searching around for something wrong, something that looked ugly maybe, something that would cause such an outburst in Bob.Â
But there was absolutely nothing wrong with you. In fact, you looked perfect.Â
When you came back from the mission, the first thing you looked for in the living room once you stepped out of the elevator was Bob, naturally, eyes flicking to the couch where he usually lay down to read or gaze at the cityscape.
Yelena and Bucky were talking animatedly beside you, exchanging a single knowing glance as they both caught a glimpse of disappointment surfacing on your face, still a little sweaty from all the physical exertion the mission had taken. It had not been difficult. The guys had especially relied on your skills to accomplish it successfully.
For that, you were a bit tired, your mind and body had given up a lot to the energy of your abilities. You were still buzzing. Adrenaline was throbbing in your veins. And normally when you were like this, you reached for Bob's comfort to anchor you back to earth.
Your cape fluttered behind you as you made your way towards the hallway to the bedrooms, looking defeated.
Yelena huffed a small chuckle at you, taking a sip of water from the glass Bucky had offered her, âI can't believe that less than thirty minutes ago you were at full power, levitating off the ground, with your eyes glowing and all, and now you go crawling back to your boyfriend like this.â
You just shrugged, offering them both a small tired smile before continuing to walk towards Bob's room, needing to see him and hug him. You didn't even care that you were still wearing your suit.
You stopped in front of the door and as you were raising your hand to knock on it, it swung open with a âwooshh!â, revealing a very distressed looking Bob. His hair was a bit messy, he was still wearing that black shirt that looked so good on him. He had changed his pants, though, now wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, hanging dangerously low around his hips.
He looked like a hot mess. In every good sense of the term.
âYou're back,â he breathed out, as if he'd been holding his breath all this time in your absence, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he gulped loudly. His eyes took a quick journey across you and widened as he noticed you were still in your suit. He pulled them back, forcefully, painfully slow back up to your face.
You looked at him strangely, realizing how you were both still standing in his doorway. âYeah... are you okay, Bob? I feel you... closed off.â
âYeah, it's justâ I didn't want to distract youâ before the mission and all that,â he explained, sounding more like a cheap excuse.
âDistract me?â You raised a single eyebrow, repeating his own word, noticing perfectly how his gaze wandered to your chest for just a split of a second, but nonetheless, you managed to catch up with it. A hint of an amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips, leaning against the threshold of his door, and he closed his eyes tightly, ducking his head in shame, knowing full well that he had been caught. Nothing could ever get past you. Not when it came to him.
âLooks like you're the distracted one here, Bob.â
âI'm notââ he stammered, his hands raised to his flushed face, âS-sorry, I don't mean to be like like a wacked out pervertâ I don't want you to think less of me. It's just a s-suit.â
The last part seemed to be speaking more to himself than to you, as he grunted it under his breath, verging on a scolding.
But it wasn't just a suit.
It was you.
Your body, your naughty smile, your gaze, your lips tinted with that deadly crimson red.
A couple of beads of sweat led a wet trail down your neck. Bob could smell the saltiness oozing off your sweaty skin, mixed with that exquisite scent of your perfume. He could hear your heart pounding, the throbbing pulse in your jugular vein. Demonstrating that you were real, that you were breathing, that you were right in front of him, dressed like that.
You were devastatingly beautiful. And he was completely at your mercy.
Your hand rose to his face, making him stop his babbling with himself and lift his gaze slowly. His cheek felt warm under your palm, you didn't know if it was because he was a blushing mess or because that was the effect that your touch brought upon his skin.
âIt's okay to feel desire, Bob, there's nothing wrong with that,â you reassured him, lowering your tone to a softer, more sympathetic one. âIt makes me feel good that you desire me, actually.â
That got a reaction out of him, his lips quivered, hesitating whether or not to speak, until eventually, he made up his mind, âIt makes you feel good?â
You nodded your head, your smile morphing to one of a little more shyness, âI thought you didn't like the way I looked in my suit. Since you just ran off without saying anything, I thought thatââ
Bob interrupted you right there, shaking his head repetitively. You felt his jaw and flesh move under the palm of your hand as he spoke.
âWhat? No,â he blurted, huffing air as if it were the most obvious subject in the world. Regret passed over the expression of his face and he uttered your name in that adoring, soft way he did, âYou look perfect. It drives me crazy, h-honestly. I haven't been able to stop t-thinking about you. You look so beautiful it makes me want toââ
He forced himself to shut up, suddenly feeling his throat constrict and his face grow even more red. One of his hands ran through his hair anxiously, looking really tense.
âYou want to what?â You urged him, your breath feeling warm against his face, your thumb caressed his cheekbone, making him shiver under your touch, âSay it, Bob.â
Bob looked into your eyes again, struggling to maintain eye contact, his hands trembled at his sides, so desperate to reach out to you, to touch you, to grasp you. To hold all of you.
âMake love to youâ He mumbled against your lips just before you kissed him, breathing in his air and devouring his words, covenanting them as a mutual yearning. A promise.
Bob kissed you as if you were the air his lungs depended on to breathe, his lips moving with yours like an old habit, like second nature.
âJump,â he urged you between kisses and shaky breaths, his hands finally being set loose to reach out to touch you and hold your waist.
And you immediately complied, bouncing up and wrapping your legs around his hips. He lifted you up and held you so effortlessly. Sometimes you forgot that this man was the strongest among all of you. The strongest on the planet, most likely.
Without ever stopping kissing you, Bob locked you tightly against him with one arm while the other one stretched out towards the door, closing it behind his back once he started to walk with you in his arms over to his bed.Â
Both of his hands grasped your body at the bottom of your thighs, squeezing and cupping your warm flesh through the fabric of your suit.
Promptly you felt the bulge press against the underside of your thigh, so desperate for attention, for you.
Bob broke the kiss, the noise of your mouths slipping apart from each other swept across the interior of his room, so filthy and hot. He looked at you with half-closed eyes, gaze darkened by desire and raw adoration.
He was breathless and feeling so flustered and anxious he was trembling, you could sense it as he held you close against him.
âI-I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. Itââ he mumbled, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he felt your fingers sinking into his hair at the back of his skull, âIt just... pops up. It's inevitable when it comes to you. You drive me crazy.â
He was referring to his erection, of course. His big erection. He was ashamed of it. Bob didn't want to appear desperate âalthough for you, he certainly wasâ; someone who was unable to control himself. He was striving for control.
âJust shut up and make love to me, Bob,â you murmured, pleaded, right against his lips, your tongue grazing across his bottom lip, pulled outward, his countenance turn into a pout. âI need you inside me, now. Please, babyâ
âS-shit,â he hissed a lot of cursing under his trembling breath. He was buzzing, âI-I need you too.â
Bob kissed you one more time as he laid you down on his bed very gently, careful not to trip or get tangled up in your cape.
His lips traced a path of kisses across your face, down your chin, along your neck. Your body quivered as you felt his tongue run across your skin, wiping away a bead of sweat.
Your legs were still on either side of his hips, one of his hands was running up and down the outside of your thigh and the other was supporting his own weight on the side of your body.
You arched your back for him, grinding against his crotch. Bob groaned lightly into your skin at the friction.
âYou drive me crazyâ you don't know what you provoke in me,â he uttered, rasping out against the skin of your neck, like an unhinged man, blinded by lust and longing. âThis fucking suitâ shit. You look so good, so pretty for me. I need you so bad, baby. All the time.â
Rarely did Bob call you by pet names, but every one of those occasions elicited the exact same reaction out of you. Your gaze would darken and your eyes would squint. You didn't have to tell him anything at all. Your body spoke everything to him, calling out to him in silence, in complicity.
With you, the intimacy, the complicity spoke for itself above the silence.
He knew the power he had in you. He knew exactly how to use it.
âP-please... ahââ yet he still begged you, whimpering just from friction and touch alone, pulling his head out of your neck and bringing his face closer to yours. He kissed your lips once more, just as your legs squeezed tighter around his waist, pulling him closer to you and making him pant against your mouth. âI dreamt of your legs wrapped around my waist. Just like this...â
Even Bob couldn't fully recognize himself. He was in some kind of deep lust trance, everything was blurred, except for you. Just beneath him, your beautiful body squirming, flushed against his.
To think that not so long ago you had been out there, in your nice suit, in full super-heroine mode, helping and saving people. Protecting kids from the bad guys, fighting for them.
They all probably looked up to you with adoration, everyone would most likely be jealous of him if they knew how he had you now.
None of them could ever see you like this. Only in their dreams.Â
âOnly in their dreams,â a voice murmured at the back of his mind.
âBobby...â You breathed out his name, pleading for mercy, for him to do something, anything at all. One of your hands was curled around his forearm at your side, squeezing it to attract his attention. Your fingertips absentmindedly traced the veins outlined against his skin trough his arm. You could feel his throbbing pulse on them. Desperate and hepless. Craving.Â
âLet me taste you, baby, pleaseâ Bob cooed, his voice coming raspy and desperate out of his throat, âI need to taste you, yeah?â
âY-yes, yes,â your mouth moved faster than your mind, gazing at him with eyes glazed over with lust. âW-wait, I have to take off my suit first, let meââ
Bob cut you off with a sloppy little kiss, pressing his forehead affectionately against yours, his nose nuzzling yours just before he pulled away, âI-I got it.â
He patted your thigh gently and you unwrapped your legs from his waist, following him with your gaze attentively as he settled over you carefully so that his fingers reached around your neck, in search of the zipper of the suit. When he found it, he began to pull it down, looking at you with ravenous eyes, blinking so slowly that it seemed like he wasn't blinking at all.
âTurn a little and lift your hips up, baby.â He said to you once the zipper trail was almost reaching your lower back. As he unzipped the bottom of it, you took off your top to help him, leaving your bare chest on full display for him. âThat's it. God...â
Bob shakily exhaled air as he became aware that you weren't wearing any underwear at all, he had to be extremely careful not to tear the zipper into a thousand tiny pieces with the force he squeezed it, pulling it further below your hips.
âYou don't wear anything under it? Should I be worried about this?â
His tone of voice was so confident and borderline playful that for a moment you felt like he was someone else entirely. He really wanted to look confident for you, he wanted to provide you that security and comfort. You were stripping naked for him, for God's sake. Bob had to make an extra effort to appear confident and self-assured.
âJust for you, baby,â you assured him, shifting your legs slightly just once to help him pull the suit off completely, tugging it delicately down your thighs. The distinctive noise of the zipper, which this time was reaching your ears like the most arousing noise on the planet, ceased at last, reaching its end.
âJ-just for me,â Bob echoed, leaning into you again like a magnet to a gravity core. His lips latched onto your naked thigh, kissing the side considering the position you were lying on his bed now. His wet, leisurely kisses awakened shivers on your skin. He could smell how aroused you were. He practically could taste how wet your sex was. Thinking about it made his mouth water.
âSo pretty, so beautiful, my God,â he babbled, his trail of kisses reaching your lower stomach, tickling you in a way that made you sigh. Bob looked up at you for just a moment, his pupils blown out with pleasure, âHow could someone like me deserve something like this?â
It all seemed more like a conversation with himself, like if he was walking through a daydream.
Your hand came to rest on his face, cupping his cheek, and he leaned against your palm instantly, closing his eyes for a moment.
âBobby, please,â you pleaded.
And he gave in immediately, kissing the palm of your hand, âYou don't have to beg me for anything. You already have it.â
His kisses trailed back down your stomach and you arched your back so beautifully for him. When he pulled away from your hand, it fell to the side of you on the bed. You clenched in a trembling fist all the fabric of whatever you could catch hold of.
âAre youâ are you sure about this?â he looked up to you for consent, his fingers soothingly caressing your thighs, hands pressing them to either side of his face and settling them on his shoulders. When he saw you nodding your head, too much overcome with lust, he brushed a kiss on the inside of your knee, attempting to get your full attention back, âI need words, baby.â
You hurried to answer, babbling, gazing down at him, kneeling so pretty in between your legs as if they were the gates to heaven, âYes, Bob, baby, please.â
He kissed your other knee now and then licked his lips, hungrily.
âI want to see you fall apart under me,â his hot breath brushed against the skin of your inner thighs, spreading your legs a little wider with a delicate but assured grip. âYou're soaking wet, baby,â he marveled, in awe watching your pussy dripping with his adored honeyed water, yet his voice sounded disappointed, âyou're wasting my meal.â
The mere sight of how his eyes sparkled with adoration as he gazed at your pussy could have made you cum right there if you started to think about it too much. Bob looked at you as if you were the center of the universe, the entrance to paradise, the sun he orbited around.Â
It all made sense when you were there. Your presence in the room shifted the whole gravity of his being. His everything was for you. He was all made for you.
All the sense he could possibly envision now was to devour your pussy as if it were his last meal. He devoured it like a starving man, like reaching an oasis in the most arid desert, drowning and sheltering into it.
The sloshing sounds that spread with each stroke of his tongue between your wet folds made you flush all over, throwing your head back against one of his pillows and squeezing your eyes tightly shut, muttering and moaning his name out like a prayer.
To Bob, that noise was the most beautiful melody he'd ever heard. He sucked particularly hard onto your slit, pushing his tongue just barely into your gushing hole, pulling a loud, raspy moan from your throat. Oh, that noise...
His name sounded like the utmost hopeless and religious chant out of your pretty mouth. At that moment he was loving his name, loving the way you moaned it and kept murmuring it, as if it was yours, holding it close to your heart.
Amidst all the acoustic thrill of raw passion, mingled with his own soft whimpers breathing out into your core, Bob could nearly hear the stars themselves just above his red, hot ears.Â
Your cunt was pulsing all around the tip of his tongue and Bob sensed, tasted your heartbeat through it.Â
To feel that close to you nearly made him cum right there in his sweatpants.
One of his hands unclasped your leg, crawling up through your skin, his digits drawing a smooth path up your stomach, through your ribcage, all the way to reach your chest, cupping one of your breasts with a possessive hold.
âBobâ uhhââ you croaked out his name, glancing down at him with half-closed eyes, searching for his gaze in desperation.
Your back curved into such a perfect arch, your body squirming up against him as you felt his tongue flick your clit, his fingertips gently caressing your nipple. The stimulation would soon knock you into fucking heaven.
âYeah, baby,â he responded to your call, disconnecting his mouth just an inch from your pussy, feeling lust-drunk enough to hold your gaze. His whole mouth was drenched with you, the slickness glistening under the dim light of his bedroom. His other hand sneaked between your legs, just barely brushing your pulsating cunt, âI'm here, hm? I got you, angel.â
Angel. That one was new.
You looked as close as he could ever imagine to an angel; sprawled on his bed, your body, magnificent, perfect, damp with sweat and arousal, your gaze searching for his in longing. There, in the shadows, Bob saw the whitish gleam of your energy flashing through your orbs, your power lingering in the air, pulsating along with your heartbeat.
You were so powerful, so strong and marvelous.
And you were all his to break apart.
âAre you going to cum for me?â He asked right before passionately kissing your pussy, his fingertips teasing your clit as he plunged his tongue deep into you, knocking all the air out of your lungs. âI got you, I got you.â
Bob felt you clench impossibly tight all around the two fingers he had thrust into your warm, fluttering hole, barely pressing against the spongy walls of your insides. He sucked your clit just right, breathing your name against your hot flesh. That's what pushed you over the edge, making you cum, falling apart so devastatingly beautiful against his mouth.
He slurped and drank in everything you had to offer him, lapping at your cunt as if he was drowning and it was the oxygen he needed to keep afloat.Â
He paused to gaze at you attentively as he made you cum, your whole body buzzing, squirming so beautifully under his touch that you resembled some ethereal, otherworldly sight.
His name rasped out of your throat, as if it were your own religion.
âThere you go...â Bob cooed, his eyes hazy with adoration, licking his lips clean and kissing your twitching pussy once again. âSo good to me. So good...â
His lips kissed a trail upwards, swiping his tongue occasionally across the scars and freckles that decorated your skin as a constellation that appealed to him to adore. Eventually, Bob reached your face, looking down at you with pure love and a glimpse of that gentle shyness of his natural mannerism.
âA-are you okay?â
Bob watched your soul slowly crawl back to the ground and to your body, right back to him, finally snapping out of your post-orgasm trance. He propped his weight against the bed on the side of your waist with one hand, his thumb brushing against your bare skin and he brought the other to your face, caressing your cheek reassuringly.Â
Your response was your mouth seeking his to join in a deep, loving kiss. Bob closed his eyes, kissing you back, his hand cradling your face.
You could taste yourself through his lips and tongue. And that managed to turn you on even more.Â
Wrapped in an adrenaline surge of lust pumping through your veins, you rolled both of you over on the bed, laying him underneath you now.Â
It was nice that you had much more stamina and energy than a normal human. Although there, you didn't feel like a human at all.
You were animals driven by their own instincts.
Bob gasped against your lips, his eyes barely opening so he could visualize you on top of him now, grinding your ass down on his rock-hard erection as you sat so prettily on his lap.
âShit,â he croaked out your name, his hands grabbing as much of you as they possibly could, sliding past the curve of your waist to your ass, pressing you harder down onto him in urging. âIf you keep doing thatâ I-I'm going toââ
You stopped all movement of your body and sat perfectly motionless on his lap. Bob whined hoarsely in protest, but you didn't let him utter a word, your finger pressed against his lips, silencing him instantly.
âI want you to cum inside me, Bob.â You purred against his ear, your tongue lazily stroking his earlobe. He froze speechless, just staring at you flabbergasted, still delighting in the way you had said those filthy words, so softly and lovingly. He strained himself to keep strong and not burst into his boxers at your words alone. âLet me take your clothes off, okay? Can I see all of you, baby?â
âYes, p-please, just take everything of meâ it's all yoursâ he promised you, helping you take off that black t-shirt he knew you loved to see on him so much. Exactly why he had put it on that morning.
When his naked torso was fully exposed for you, you bent down to kiss his neck, his collarbone, his pecs, your tongue spent some extra time fondling his sensitive nipples and Bob's legs twitched under your thighs.
The light in the room flickered for a split second and you just grinned against his flushed skin.
âI-I'm sorryââ he apologized with his voice lowering sheepishly, embarrassed. Then he closed his eyes when you raised your head to hush him with a kiss that was more tender than anything, reassuring him in silence.
Then your lips specifically grazed the spot where his heart was, beating maniacally on the other side of his skin.
He was so perfect, effortlessly perfect.
Bob was the most powerful man on planet Earth and yet, he was crumbling beneath you, bowing to the mercy of your touch.
You might as well just tear his chest apart and take his heart, it was already lying open for you, so full of you.
It was yours to take, to hold, to shatter.
You took your time to strip off his gray sweatpants, kissing his thighs, his knees and his calves, gently tugging at the hem of the gray fabric until you eventually slid it off his body and tossed it on the floor, forgotten alongside your scandalous suit.
Bob stared at you with a blushing, timid face as you rose again up through his body, your fingers lightly fiddling with the hem of his boxers now, fully ruined by all the pre-cum he'd been spilling. And you lifted your gaze, searching for his, silently asking for his consent.
He nodded tremblingly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
With wobbly hands he helped you take off his boxers, lifting his hips so you could slide them down his body and toss them into the pile of clothes lying on the floor as well.
His cock sprung free and you looked at it in awe.He was so big, bigger than you had ever had before. It was long too, hard, powerful and desperate for you, just like him.
It's head was furiously red, throbbing and oozing pre-cum incessantly. You found it impossible not to bend down to his groin and swipe your tongue along his slit, scooping up every essence of him and savoring it delightfully. Your tongue lolled along the prominent vein that bulged all along his shaft.
Bob's eyes rolled back and in a blur of bliss, he had to struggle to guide a hand to your head, fingers brushing across your cheek to get your attention. You looked up at him with big, lustful eyes, swallowing everything you had slurped out of him. The taste was bittersweet, hot, familiar, like him.
âNoâ don't doâ don't do that, p-please,â he begged for your mercy in a raspy, cracked, breathless voice. âCome here.â
His hand gripped yours as you took it and carefully, but hurriedly helped you to position yourself on top of him once again, his digits latched onto you your waist, holding you as you squatted just above his lap, straddling him.
You grabbed his cock and held it up against your pussy, the swollen tip slowly sliding in between your wet folds, pushing achingly slow through your entrance.
Both of you sighed at the contact. Wet, hot, shaky and desperate.
Slowly you began to sink down on his cock, hands pressed on his shoulders, clenching them more and more with every inch he pushed inside you.Â
Bob whimpered shudderingly, choking back the deep, heavy moan that crawled up his throat. He could feel his whole body shivering, squinting his eyes as he leaned his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, struggling to steady his breathing. It was like his soul was slipping out of his body and merging with yours.
No one had ever been so close to his soul. And he didn't think anyone else would, either. No one did it like you.Â
His veiny hands at your waist gripped your flesh, yet they never pressed you hard enough to push you lower any faster, no, he would wait for you so patiently, giving you the pause to accustom yourself to his size.
âYou do it soâ so good.â Bob praised hoarsely into your shoulder, his wet lips grazing across your skin, drooling all over you, âyou take it so good, you take me so good. There's n-no one like youâ no one.â
Heavenly, him pressing against you, his lips laying softly upon your neck, marking you on the outside and inside, his mouth felt like heaven, his kisses falling upon you like stars, shaping a constellation of raw adoration.Â
Your pussy fluttered around him, squishing him deeper inside.Â
One of his hands wandered down to your back, fingers tracing your spine reassuringly. He just took the time to reassure you amidst all the blissful trance of pleasure you made him feel.
âJust a little more, baby,â he murmured, his hand caressing your ass appreciatively. Your warm, spongy walls clamped down tight around his cock and Bob's voice cracked. âOhâ S-shitââ
You moaned so loudly against his forehead that your whole spine seemed to twitch, finally feeling your ass pressed down on his lap. He was so deep that you easily thought his tip was almost reaching all into your guts now.Â
âYou're so deep, Bobâ You whined, just barely pulling away from him so you could look at him. His eyes were already locked on yours and you caught a glimpse of that golden sparkle flashing through them, his irises glowing like two suns in the twilight. âBobbyââ
Your words struck him to the core and his eyes flashed golden once again, utterly starting to lose control.Â
âI'm here,â he hissed, panting your name breathlessly, his hands caressed your skin, scoring his imprint on it. He kissed you sloppily, âI got you, I always got you.â
As you began to move on top of him, Bob suddenly felt like he was in heaven. He could no longer envision a life where he didn't feel this way, where he didn't feel you. He shall be yours in every life.
He dropped back on the bed as your hand pushed against his chest, bending down with him and bouncing your hips so lusciously against his that you actually could see his eyes filling with tears, looking up at you riding him in pure adoration.Â
Bob whimpered your name endlessly, crying it out in a hoarse, broken voice, his hands squeezed your waist, your hips, your ass, anything they could possibly grope out of you.
âMy Godââ his eyes rolled back, arching his back as you delivered a particularly hard bounce down his cock, so deep that he saw the stars twinkle in the darkness right behind you.Â
The constant filthy noise of flesh slapping against flesh soon merged with the pornographic acoustic medley of moans, shattered sighs, slurred whispers of names and nonsense words.
You kissed his lips lazily, then his nose, and his chin as you cooed, âYou feel so good, baby.â
The bed was beginning to creak beneath the ruthless sway of your hips, ass bouncing up and down heavy against his thighs, so deep that every time you bottomed out you felt him in your throat. His heavy balls were pressed hard against your ass, throbbing, so ready to give you everything they had, to fill you up to the brim, as if it were his sole purpose in life.Â
âYou're perfectâ perfect,â he croaked out so pathetically to you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours, plunging into you as if you were his nest, engulfing himself within your soft, warm, spongy walls, pressing against that squishy spot that knocked the breath right out of you.
He kissed your lips once more and in a fragment of a second Bob flipped you over on the bed, rutting into you so good that it made you gasp between kisses.Â
Bob began to set the pace just as your legs wrapped around his hips, pressing him impossibly close to you.
âRight there?â he whispered, burying his head down on your chest, nuzzling your sternum. âYou feel perfectâ so tight, my Godââ
He kept on praising you endlessly, kissing you, grasping you, breathing in the air you breathed out, sharing the same oxygen, the same time-space that existed between you, that little inches that belonged to both of you and no one else.
âYou feel like heaven.â
That was enough for him to have you cumming again, in some way even more earth-shattering than the last orgasm. Your body started to wobble, your pussy squelching and clenching so tightly wrapped around his cock.Â
The light voltage in the room lowered and raised, matching the racing beat of your heart.
Bob sensed the energy sparking off your body and blending with his own, merging and intertwining as one.Â
After feeling that, after feeling you so close, so inhumanly close, beyond the physical plane, beyond anything he had ever felt in his life âit was euphoric, overwhelmingâ; he was cumming too, picking up the pace to reach the apex of his high.Â
He buried himself in you to the hilt, sobbing out a ragged whimper as he leaned his forehead against yours.Â
The atmosphere shifted and the light in the room flickered once again.
His load felt hot and thick inside you, coloring your insides with his color, spurting what resembled an ocean of him inside your womb. His hips jerked, his cock shooting out ropes and ropes of hot seed, marking you from the inside.
Bob remained motionless on top of you, panting up against your face, keeping his eyes closed, buried to the fucking hilt inside your overwhelmingly stuffed pussy, making sure nothing could spill out. Â
And even though his body was drained and succumbing to post-orgasm limpness, he was careful not to collapse his full weight on you, supporting his hands on either side of your shoulders.Â
Your arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him close to you, hands soothingly caressing his back. He sighed against your lips, slowly opening his eyes.
Until then you hadn't realized that the room was completely dark now.Â
âI think we just blew out the voltage of the room.â You uttered after a comfortable silence, your throat felt scratchy and though you were still in the haze of the afterglow, your voice came out rather playful.
Bob glanced lazily away from you, finally noticing that there was, in fact, no light. He was grateful for that in a way, that way you couldn't see the blushing, tear-stained mess that was his face, snuggling it against your chest.Â
âI'm s-sorry,â he stammered in his own raspy voice as well, embarrassed, as if he wasn't balls deep inside you, his seed gushing out of your pussy. âI thinkâ I think it was me.â
âI think it was both of us.â You smiled lovesickly as you kissed his sweaty forehead, fingers tracing his shoulder blades. âDon't worry, we'll fix it. Just give me a few minutes.â
Bob placed a couple of kisses on your chest before he began to reluctantly push himself up, carefully pulling out of you. You both sighed lightly at the over-stimulation and the loss of connection. Although, even when he had already slipped his cock off you, you could still feel him inside, leaking out of your gaping pussy, trickling down your thighs.
Bob rushed off in search of a washcloth, stumbling over the pile of clothes you had tossed on the floor. The sound of his feet walking clumsily back to you made you grin.
Then he swiped the cloth in between your legs, very delicately, wiping you clean. The contact made you shiver from the sensibility.
And even through the shadows of the darkness, you could see him frown slightly, very much focused on taking care of you, sensing how the fabric of the cloth felt uncomfortable against your sensitive skin, âI'm sorry.â
âYou apologize too much, babyâ you tried to reassure him, already in need of him close to you again. âCome here.â
Bob instantly flopped down on the bed next to you, careful not to crush you, but with your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him tight against you it was complicated.
In between hugs and caresses, he ended up being the little spoon, happy to be able to feel your chest pressing against his back, arms embracing his torso.
âDid Iâ I do okay?â he asked after a brief silence, anxious.
âYou were perfect.â You assured him, tenderly kissing his shoulder.
âYou tooâ Bob whispered back, grabbing one of your hands on his chest and bringing it to his mouth, planting soft kisses on your knuckles. The words raced up his throat even before he could think, âI love you.â
He let the words carry up into the silence of the darkness and held his breath, already considering that he had ruined everything.
âI love you too, Bob.â
If it hadn't been for you holding him, his limbs tangled with yours, and because well, you were there, Bob had jumped out of his bed in joy.
But, because you were there, he stayed still, perfectly still, and smiled, utterly in love, savoring the way you had said the three words to him.
You were closing your eyes, drifting off in exhaustion when, through your super-hearing you heard steps approaching through the hallway, of more than a pair of feet, mixing with the voices of your teammates.
âWhat could have happened?â You heard Ava's voice ask, her tone hovering somewhere between worried and annoyed.
Yelena sighed. âI don't know. Some power failure?â
âA power failure in the whole city?â John remarked, as snarky as usual.
Your eyes opened wide and Bob halted his cute kisses on your hand, turning his head so he could look at you like a deer dazzled by lights.
#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds imagine#bob reynolds fanfic#bob reynolds x you#bob reynolds x y/n#bob reynolds#lewis pullman#thunderbolts#thunderbolts x reader#marvel#mcu#mcu x reader#marvel x reader#the sentry#robert reynolds#robert reynolds x reader#marvel fanfic#cosmictheo
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
romantic chocolates? - op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader summary: in which you and your best friends brother accidentally eat aphrodisiac chocolate OR you and oscar get so fucking horny while on a yacht in the Maldives. warnings: smut smut smut, all smut basically. oral, p in v, dirty talk, language, marking kink, slight voyeruism, exhibitionism??, not sure what else...NOT PROOFREAD! (might be some typos) word count: ~3.9k author's note: SURPRISEEEE ITS OUT EARLY (I worked hard over the weekend lol) hope you guys enjoy!! THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR OSCAR EVERRRR (aside from a one shot i've had sitting in my drafts for months lol) comment and let me know what you think!!! xoxo
ln4 cl16 mv1 op81 cs55
âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€âąâ€
Youâve always had a sweet tooth.
Everyone knew it. Oscar especially. He used to tease you over it when you were younger. Would point out when your fingers were sticky with something sugary.
He never said it unkindly. Just amused. Soft. Something like youâve got chocolate on your face and then passed you a napkin you didnât ask for.
Heâs always been like that. Gentle. Kind. The boy who was never loud. More of a listener than a speaker.
And he never made you feel silly. Not when you cried after falling off your bike and scraped your knee. Not when your towel slipped. Not even when you accidentally spilled juice all over your shirt on a long flight. He just handed you a new one from his backpack like he knew itâd happen.Â
Youâd grown up like that.Â
And now here you were, years later. Sunburned and salty on a private yacht in the Maldives, still with a sweet tooth and one of his old McLaren shirts he gave you when he first got signed. Pulled over your bikini.
His sister, your best friend, left on in the morning for a tour with the rest of the group. Something about history and snorkeling. Youâd both waved your hands declining. Something about being too burned and too sleepy for it.Â
âSheâs going to get bored halfway through,â You sip on your drink. âProbably will call us in two hours.â
Oscar gives you a shrug. âI give her one.â
âShe said it was a once in a lifetime experience.â You throw up your hands while repeating her words. Mocking her almost. Smiling.
âSo is sitting here.â
And you laugh.
Heâs sitting across from you, towel slung around the back of his neck, sun catching his shoulders. His hair is damp. Skin flushed from the sun. No shirt. Just a pair of swim shorts and bare feet.
You shift slightly where you are. Curled up in the shade. Bare legs stretched out. The oversized shirt clinging to you just a little too much where your bikini top was wet.
He glances at you when you move. Doesnât speak. Just tracks it with his eyes. And looks away again.
His hand reaches for the table. âWhatâs this?â
You look over.Â
A little box. Dark. Red ribbon wrapped around it.
âSome welcome thing, I think.â You shrug. âDropped it off yesterday.â
Oscar pulls the lid open, brows lifting. He picks up a wrapped square, amused.
âWell, well.â He says, looking at you. âYour kryptonite.â
You grin. âShut up.â
âYou gonna pretend you didnât spot this the second we sat down?â
âI did not.â
He tilts his head, giving you a look.
âMm, youâve got that look.â He says.
âWhat look?â
âThe one you used to get before stealing cupcakes at birthday parties.â
You roll your eyes, but blush. Cheeks reddening. âI did not stealâŠâ
âYou did.â He cuts you off. Already unwrapping one of the chocolates. âAlways had sugar on your hands. Icing on the corner of your lips.â
You open your mouth to protest, but he tosses a piece toward you.
You catch it.
You watch him bring the chocolate to his mouth, tongue darting over his lip without thinking.
Peel open your piece and press it to your tongue. It melts fast. Rich.Â
You hum, licking a smear of it off your finger. âThatâs actually really good.â
He doesnât respond right away.
You glance up and catch him mid-swipe across his bottom lip. Looking dazed. Distracted.
Then he blinks, clears his throat. And nods. âYeah, pretty good.â
He closes the lid of the box, slides it to the side. Then leans back, looking at the water.
And you sit there with him. Across from him on the cushioned benches. Chewing slowly. Feeling that heat bloom beneath your skin.
Itâs soft at first.
Then deeper.
A warmth in your chest. A pulse between your thighs.
The wind sweeps your skin. And the fabric of your bikini suddenly feels too damp. Too thin. Too tight.
You swallow. Trying not to fidget.
Oscar hasnât moved much. His gaze is still on the ocean, but it isnât really. And you watch the way his jaw flexes. The way his foot shifts on the deck. Like he was grounding himself.
He doesnât look at you.
And he always looks at you.Â
You shift again. Cross your ankles. Press your thighs together.
You glance at Oscar again.
And his lips are parted. Just a little bit. And his brow is slightly furrowed.
You sit up slightly. âYou okay?â
He shifts. Then clears his throat, blinking. âYeah. JustâŠhot.â
You nod slowly. âSame.â
He leans forward, breathes out. But his fingers twitch. And you notice as his back muscles roll slightly as he drops his head down, towel slipping down.
He stays like that for a few seconds. Then rubs a hand over the back of his neck.
His voice is quiet. Flat. âWhat was in that chocolate?â
You donât answer right away. Because youâre fucking throbbing now. And your bikini is definitely soaked.
âDo you feelâŠâ He swallows, throat bobbing. âStrange?â
You nod. And then remember he isnât even looking at you. âYeah.â
His jaw clenches.
He shifts again. Still not looking at you. And thatâs how you know something is wrong.
Because he never acts like this.Â
Youâve seen him flustered, sure. After a race, dealing with the media, around too many people. But never like this. Not this tense. As if heâs afraid.
âI didnât think chocolate couldâŠ.fuck.â His voice cracks. And he laughs under his breath.Â
He grips the bench. Looking like heâs in pain.
âI think I need to go inside.â
And he stands too fast. Towel falling down. Hands clenched at his sides as he turns on bare feet and walks toward the main cabin.
You stare at his back. His shoulders. And he disappears down the stairs.
Youâre so hot that you could cry. Unbearable.
You press your palm flat to your stomach. Like itâll help.
But it doesnât.
Because itâs not just the chocolate.Â
Itâs him. Oscar.
Gone for less than a minute and his voice is the only thing in your head. The way his mouth looked when he licked the chocolate off his thumb. His hands. The muscles of his back straining as he leaned forward
The silence stretches heavy.
You make a quiet sound in your throat. Barely audible. And you canât sit still. Can barely think. Canât stop seeing him.
Your hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt. Youâre hesitant at first. But then trail your fingers to the center of your ache.
And your hips lift off the cushion. A heavy breath escaping.
Your other hand grips the bench as you rock slowly against your own fingers. Over the bikini. Slow circles. Each one, pressing harder.
You let your head fall back. And the sky above is almost blinding.
âOscarâŠâ
You donât even realize you said it out loud. It just slips.Â
And a few moments later, you donât even hear him come back. Your fingers still at your bikini. Rubbing.
You lift your head. Heâs there.
Flushed. Hair ruffled like he ran his fingers through it a million times. Eyes fixed between your legs like heâs in some sort of trance.
He just stares. Doesnât even speak.
âI canât stop,â You whisper. Honest.
âYouâreâŠâ He blinks. Voice low. Stunned. Like he just walked into his favorite fantasy and doesnât know what to do. âYouâre fucking touching yourself?â
You nod. And he groans.
âTo me?â
âCouldnât stop thinking about you,â You whisper.
âJesus.â His hands twitch at his sides.
You shift, spreading your legs a little wider without meaning to. Unable to stop rubbing the tight circles.
âYou look so pretty like that,â He mutters.
You tremble. âI need help.â
And his eyes widen.
âPlease,â you whisper. âI canâtâŠOsc, please.â
He groans. Hands dropping to the front of his swim shorts, palming the hard line of his cock through the fabric.
âCome closer.â You plead.
And he stares at you with wide eyes. Flushed. He doesnât move. At least, he doesnât at first.
But then his gaze drops back down to your legs. Spread open. Your fingers rubbing slow, desperate circles. And his hands twitch.
âIâŠâ He says, but heâs already squeezing himself. âI shouldnât.â
âOscarâŠâ
âI shouldnât be seeing this,â his mutters. âAnd I shouldnât be this fucking hard.â
Your eyes fall to where his hand squeezes against his cock. Like heâs trying to fight the ache between his legs.
And you whimper. Hips jerking. âI canât. I needâŠ.I need help.â
His hand squeezes himself tighter.
âFuck.â A pause. A few silent moments of heated stares. âDo you know how many times I used to think about this?â
His voice has gone rough. And you blink at him. Heart stuttering.
âI used to jerk off in my room and feel sick after,â He whispers. âBecause it was you. My sisterâs best friend. Always walking around in those tiny shorts. That blue bikini. Always so fucking sweet.â
Your fingers slow. Jaw falls slack.
âIâve thought about it,â His voice shakes. âFuck. Iâve thought about this. When we were younger.â
Your breath hitches.
âThought about your pussy more than I shouldâve.â He mutters. âWondered how soft youâd feel. How tight. If youâd let me take my time or if youâd beg me to fuck you rough.â
Your back arches.
âWondered what youâd sound like when you come.â He continues. âIf itâs all breathy. Or if youâd cry. If youâd say my name.â
âIâd press the pillow over my face after so no one would hear me,â He admits. âEvery time.â
You gasp.
âI would.â You gasp.
His hand pushes harder into his cock. Groaning. âIâve thought about fucking you with my tongue. Holding your legs and licking you for hours.â
You press your fingers even harder.
You whimper, other hand reading for a pillow or something to grab onto. âOsc, please.â
âYou want my fingers?â He whispers. âRight here? Want me to fuck you with my hand?â
You nod. Repeatedly. Fast. Almost pathetic.
Oscar lets out a whimper. And then heâs kneeling in front of you before you can blink. Hand still pressing into his cock. The other trembling as his fingers brush your thigh.
âYouâre so warm.â
Your hand falls away and he replaces it instantly. Pressing two fingers against the soaked fabric. Groans loudly when he feels it.
âFuck, prettyâŠâ He groans. âYouâre soaked. Fuckinâ dripping.â
And then he pushes the fabric aside, stares. Pupils blown. âGod, look at youâŠ"
You shake your head. âPlease.â
âIâve thought about sliding my fingers into you since I was seventeen,â He pushes them in. Half-laughing. âThought about curling them deep and slowâŠ.hearing you moan just like that.â
Oscar swears under his breath, leaning closer. Jaw locked tight. âIâd keep you like this for hours if I could. Legs spread and needyâŠ.mine to play with.â
You cry out. Rocking your hips.
And he curls his fingers. Watching your face.
âYeah?â His thumb circles your clit now. Slow. âRight there? Knew Iâd find it.â
And you careen forward. Hands flying to grab his shoulders.
âCome for me,â He mutters. âRight here. In my fucking shirt. On my yacht. On my fingers.â
And you do.
Hard.
And he watches every second. His lips parted. Cock throbbing.
And then he drags his fingers out of you slow.
Brings them to his mouth.Â
Licks them clean. Eyes locked on yours.
âTaste better than I ever dreamed,â He says softly.
And then heâs grabbing the back of your neck. Pulling your lips to his. Kissing you like heâs starving.
His tongue licks your mouth like its his. Like he already knows how to pull those sounds out of you and wants to hear every single one.Â
And his hands slip down your body. Down your shoulders, over your ribs. Brushing the dip of your waist. Until heâs gripping your thighs.
âWanna see bruises here,â He says. âWant people to see bruises and know.â
He stays kneeling between you, chest heaving.
âYouâre soaking, baby.â His voice cracks.
He leans forward. Kissing your inner thigh. And then opens his mouth, sucking hard. Pulling a moan from you.
You feel the bruise forming as he licks over it. Sucks it again. Fingers pressing into your skin, gripping it.
âThatâs one,â He mutters.Â
He leaves another one. Higher.Â
Then a third on the other leg. Right by your cunt. So close that it makes your hips jerk into his mouth.
And then heâs standing. Grabbing you under your thighs. And lifts you.Â
Laying you down on the table. The welcome basket crashes onto the deck with a thud, but neither of you acknowledge it. The box of chocolates dangling on the edge.
He grabs it.
âWhat are you doing?â You ask. Breathless.
He doesnât answer. Opens the box, takes out a single piece and holds it up. Gaze dropping down to your cunt spread open for him.
âNeed to taste you with this,â He mutters.
He leans over you. Pressing the chocolate between your lips. âBite.â
You do.
The sunâs hot against your skin.
And then he kisses you hard. Tongue lapping against yours, sharing the chocolate. You both moan and groan into each other before heâs dropping back to his knees.
âLook at you,â He breathes. âAll messy. Want my mouth, baby?â
You nod.
And he leans in. Licks you.
One long drag up your slit.
You cry out. And he groans into your cunt. Licking you. Tasting you.
âFuckin heaven.â He drags a hand to your leg. âCanât believe I waited this long.â
âOscarâŠâ
He doesnât stop. Just hooks his arm under your thigh, and pulls you closer to the edge. Legs over his shoulder.
And buries his face in your pussy.
You grind into him instantly. Chasing every flick of his tongue.
Your hands fist into his hair, dragging his face closer against you. And he moans. Wrecked.
âFuck,â you yell. âOscarâŠoh myâŠfuck.â
He drags his tongue through you. Flicking your clit over and over.
âKeep fucking my face,â his voice is hot.
âYou soundâŠmy God..Oscar, you sound obsessed..â
âI am.â He grunts. Fingers curling in you as he nudges your clit with his nose.
And then he pulls one arm away. You barely notice it. Until you hear it and look down.
Heâs got his hand wrapped around his cock, fisting it fast. Leaking.
He jerks his cock faster. Hips twitching into his own fist as his mouth works harder against you.Â
âGonna come,â he confesses. âGonna come from tasting you.â
You cry out.
âCâmonâŠâ He urges. âLet me taste it, yeah?âÂ
And it breaks you.
You moan into the open sky. Grinding against his face. Jaw slack. Eyes squeezed shut.
And then he groans, standing up and comes hard onto your cunt.Â
Hot, messy ropes of it. Spilling over you.Â
And then heâs dragging you off the table without a word. Not giving you time to even breathe. Panting.Â
His hands tight around you, and then heâs spinning you. Forcing you to face the ocean. Chest hitting the metal railing.Â
And heâs behind you. Silent.
You start to turn your head, âOscarâŠ?â
âNo.â He says. Voice rough. âStay just like that.â
His hands drag your shirt up. Slow.
His name in bold letters stretched across your back.
He groans. Violently.
âI shouldâve fucked you in this years ago.â
Your breath falters.
âFucking knew it,â He grabs a fistful of the shirt, twisting his hand in it. âKnew one day youâd bend over in this and Iâd lose my fucking mind.â
You feel the heat of his body behind you, shoving your bottoms down with one swift flick of his hand. Cock thick and heavy. Dragging through your folds, collecting his come and your wetness.
He groans. You shake.
He presses forward, hips rocking against you. Grinding into your thighs.
âYouâve no idea what you look like.â His breath is heavy behind you. âBent over. My name on your back. Come still dropping down your cunt.â
And you bite your lip. Arching into him harder.
One hand grips your hip, the other fisted around the shirt.
âYou wore this shirt for years like it meant nothing,â His voice quieter. Mean. âDidnât think about what it did to me every time you wore it.â
âOscâŠâ You attempt to say his name, but he shifts his hips into you harder and your voice cracks.
He laughs.
âNow look at you. Dripping all over me. Wearing my name like you belong to me.â
He sinks in slow. So slow that you feel every pulse. Every ridge.Â
And you whimper. He groans behind you. Like heâs in pain. Like heâs trying so hard to not ravish you.
But when his hips meet you, and heâs bottomed out. He justâŠ.stops.
Breathes in heavily.
âFuck.â He says soft. âYouâre so fucking tight around me.â
His fingers dig into your hip even harder. Bruising. Marking.
âYouâve ruined me,â He laughs. âYâknow that?â
And you donât even get a chance to answer.
Because he pulls back and slams into you. Hard.
You cry out, hands gripping the railing that your knuckles turn white.
His pace isnât gentle at all. Itâs feral.
âFucking ruined me,â He says again. âYou in this shirtâŠ.you in my fucking name..do you even know what that does to me?â
You moan. So loud. And his hips smack into you. Over and over.
âYouâve been walkinâ around in it for years.â He spits. âLike itâs nothing.â
He thrusts deep, angling his hips at a better angle. âLike I havenât been dreaming of fucking you in it since I gave it to you all those years ago.â
Youâre babbling now. Unable to breathe properly. Your entire body trembling.
His hand slips from your hip and slides up your spine. He grabs the back of your neck and pushes you down. Just a little bit harder. Forces you to arch even more.
And fuck, he nearly collapses when he feels you clench tighter around him.
âYou should see yourself,â He grunts. âSqueezing around me like youâre desperate to never let me go.â
And heâs lost all rhythm. Heâs just slamming into you. Cock so deep.Â
âCanât believe this is real.â Heâs panting. âCanât believe I get to fuck you in my shirt. Pussy covered in me.â
Your orgasm is close. And youâre shouting. Moaning.Â
"Bet she'd lose her mind if she knew what a slut you were f'me..."
You cry out. He feels you teetering on the edge.Â
âDonât.â He snaps.
And you cry, âOscarâŠplease.â
âYouâre gonna wait.â He demands, fucking into you more rapidly.Â
And heâs losing his mind. Itâs sooo good.Â
âSay whoâs inside you.â His hands squeeze the back of your neck. âSay it.â
You gasp. Jaw falling slack. Chest pressed harsh into the metal railing. âYouâŠOsc..fuck, itâs so good..â
You sob out his name and Oscar fucking snaps.
âThatâs it, baby.âÂ
His hips hit you faster. Deeper. The filthy sound of it heard over the waves lapping the hull.Â
You sob into the railing.Â
He leans into you, head falling forward.
âGonna come,â He chokes out. âGonna come right inside you. Stuff you full. Let it leak out.â
And you break.
Orgasm ripping through you. Violent and hot. Back arching so hard into him. You sob out his name. Your walls clenching around him in a tight grip.
And he crashes with you. Body shuddering. Cock throbbing. Spilling into you.
Heâs still panting against you when he pulls out. And itâs a fucking mess in between your thighs.
But before you can say anything, heâs dragging you upright. And youâre stumbling as he drags you across the hot deck. Hand across your stomach. Keeping you close.
And then heâs shoving you into the rinse off shower.
He reaches up. Turns the handle. And the water is so cold that you gasp from it.
Oscar laughs behind you. âToo cold?â
Your head falls onto his shoulder. âAsshole.â
And then he turns the temperature warmer, and then itâs all steam and heat again.Â
You expect him to rinse you off gently.
Instead, he grabs the shower head. Detaches it from the hook. And pulls your back against his chest.
âGonna clean you up.â
Youâre about to ask what exactly he means. But then he;;s nudging your legs apart. Brings the shower head straight to your cunt.Â
And you jolt forward with a sharp cry.
The heat. The pressure.
âOh my godâŠOsc,â Youâre mumbling.
And he watches you. Holding one leg to keep them apart.
âStay open,â his voice is soft. âWanna see you come again.â
And you whimper. Begging. âToo muchâŠfuck.â
But he doesnât stop. Just tilts the shower head just right. Hitting your clit.
âThought Iâd have to work harder for this,â He mutters. âBut youâre soaking already.â
âFuckâŠfuck.â
"Y'like this, hm?" He whispers into your ear. "Being used like some filthy secret?"
Your hands reach behind you and slip their way into his hair. Pulling it. He groans. Rutting his hips into your backside for some friction.
âCâmon, pretty.â He grunts.Â
And the water just keeps hitting you.Â
You sob. And then crash again.
Your legs shake. Cunt clenching around nothing. But he holds you up, turning you to face him. Pressing your back against the wall.
He finally sets the shower head down. Lets it spray onto the deck.Â
And then his hands are back on you. One at your lower back, one gripping your thigh, pulling it up to wrap at his waist. You balance on one leg.
He presses a kiss to your temple. âYâokay?â His voice gentle. Caring.
And you nod, pressing your head into his neck. And his heart stutters when you lean into him. Like he can finally breathe.
âIâve got you,â He whispers.
And then, he sinks back into you.
Slow. Gentle.
Your mouth falls open. The stretch still almost unbearable after everything. But the way he slides in, feels too fucking good.
You gasp. Digging your nails into his skin. And he cradles you against the wall.
He moves slow. Rocking. No rhythm. And he feels massive. Thick.Â
âOscar,â You hush into his skin. âYou feelâŠYâfeel so good.â
He nods. âI know, baby. I know.â And his voice is a whisper.Â
He grinds deeper. Barely moving but pressing into you. âCanât believe youâre still this wetâŠâ He grunts. âStill want more? Want me to stuff you full again, hm? Fuck you til it leaks down?â
You nod. Mouth open. Moaning.
âCâmon,â He pants. Hips jerking. Cock throbbing.Â
Itâs quick. The feel of you wrapped around his cock. The overstimulation of the stretch.
You both come quick. Crying out into each otherâs skin. Soft kisses in between the moans.
And then youâre both laughing. Smiling at one another.
-
âHoly shitâŠIâm dying.â Your best friend announces. âNever let me go on another tour ever ever again.âÂ
Oscar snorts from beside you on the bench, looking at his phone. âTold you youâd hate it.â
âYou didnât say Iâd almost drown.â
You keep your face still. Sipping your drink.
And she plops down on the lounger across the deck, sighing.
And for a momentâŠitâs quiet.
Until Oscar leans in slightly, elbow brushing your arm.
His voice low. âYâthink she noticed?â
You glance at him. Shake your head.
âSheâs never been less observant,â You whisper back.
And he grins. One of those fuck-you grins that makes you stutter.
And you hold back a smile.
Your best friend groans across the deck. âGod, I feel disgusting. Should we order dinner in an hour?â
Oscar clears his throat. âSure.â
âYeah,â You say.
And then you lean, just slightly, into his side. Just enough that his thigh is touching yours again.Â
He doesnât move. And he doesnât stop smiling.
"Hey, what happened to the welcome basket?"
Oops? taglist (holy shit SO MANY OF YOU ILY): @landoscarinthefastlane @dudenhaaa27 @330bpm-whiplash @xoln04f1xo @sainzluvrr @minjiahyung @madicecream123 @star73807-blog @simpfortoomanymen @art-h1ve @annaswrites00 @forumlabee @butterfly-daisies07 @nothereneverherever @widow-cevans @suns3treading @fmejenson @megatrilss1885 @10iceicebaby @sh1nedreamsm1le7 @ptrickbateman @chasingosc @uuoozzii @idkwtdwml123 @pinkdeadtopia @chiara8104 @ellie-bellie-29 @piastri-my-boy @1-of-my-many-obsessions @8junejpg1 @jaydensluv @astrlape @idontknow0704 @whistlef0rthechoir @op814kitty @asmoothoperator @illicit-affcirs @lilith-123321 @teddybearbeth @saudianna @skylyn-vais @fleurdangz @angxedxtz @marekmybeloved @liafics @dxrlxb @gabyasworld @treebranch23 @drysdalesv @morganalatina21 @bigcatharmony @ilovemuppets @acina27 @angelabunbun @megatrilss1885 @ilikecarsalotsometimes @roxanne-ragnvindr @euphoriapillz @luminouskalopsia @trinity2058 @livsturnioloo @wdsara48 @ini3103 @shimmermotorsport @marslovesran4eva @wherethezoes-at @monsterdesandia @mythicalmaven @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @ella284-3 @landossainz @redcrescentmoons @jaeger-chan @altaccount283927 @ericasdumbworld @aerie717 @the0twst0shrimp0mc @ysavelelelel @phillza-my-beloved @thenalovescars @zicosbitch @scaroscar8115 @wertyuizxcvbnm @needy02 @dessashippr @quill-vy @o6hellnah @enchantedwaspwhisper @awesome-fandom-panda @biancathecool @lilorose25 @wowzees (not sure if all these worked but I took them straight from my comments on the sneak peak)
#oscar piastri x female oc#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x you#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81#f1 one shot#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Girl, You Earned It!
Synopsis. Just the tĂp? Donât make him laugh.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, âjust the tĂpâ trope, REALLY pĂșssydrunk boys, marathon sĂ©x, cĂșmplay, semi-exhĂbitionism (Nanamiâs), brĂ©eding, Getoâs rings omg, Getoâs a bit mean, creampĂe, spĂtting, FĂRAL Gojo, best friend! Choso, fĂrst times (Chosoâs), chokĂng, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.4k
A/N. Smooches to that one anon for inspiring this. Hope yâall have a lovely week <3

⥠TOJI FUSHIGURO - Handle it.
It was a familiar little song and dance - Tojiâs favorite one at that.Â
Itâs around his fourth orgasm that night, head thrown back against the pillows to watch with a lewd little leer at the way youâre stuttering your limp hips down, down, down his long, swollen cock. Those glossy lips of yours sagging open to whine, âToo full, Toji! C-canât ngh- handle it-â
Ah, it never gets old.Â
Toji finds his brows knitting together in mock concern, cooing in a baritone voice, âAwww, my girlâs poor pussy canât handle it?âÂ
At your bleary nod, he snakes a hand down as if to confirm, thumbing apart your puffy folds. All quivering and glistening with his seed in the dim lighting, âSheâs too full? Too stuffed to take hah- even my tip?â
Without any warning, you feel long, thick fingers splay out across your lower stomach. Pushing down - hard to make your poor cunt gush all around him. Coating his aching cock with a sheen of the cum heâd stuffed inside not so long ago. âThere we go.â he breathes, sounding so utterly smug, âWe have space now, right?â
âOh, fuck yes- Tojiâ fuck fuck fuck-â
âShhh shhh, sâalright. And since mâfeeling so nice, I promise sâgonna be jus- hah- jusâ the tip.â he grins, eyes so greedy and crazed when he looks down at the way youâre sucking him up so greedily. Your pussy lips bulging around the top of his thick head. âMâkay?â
And Tojiâs cock was already so big - so rock-hard - that no matter how much heâd split you apart on his cock before, just his fat head squeezing past your sloppy entrance feels like heâs pushing all the way into your lungs. Your hazy brain.Â
Fucking out every coherent thought out of you with each shallow grind up into your gummy walls just to fit inside. Slow, languid - just teasing you.Â
âHah- couldnât âhandle meâ my ass.â heâs spitting out from underneath you, mean fingers holding your precarious body still for him to pummel into. âThe fuck are you hngh- doing now then, huh? Taking me so well.âÂ
An embarrassed mewl is being ripped from your throat when that little divot on the end of Tojiâs cock is brushing against your sweet spots. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you realize that heâs just barely managed to squeeze his tip into your tight pussy, âI-I ngh-â
To which his palm comes down with a sharp smack! on the fat of your ass.Â
âJusâ the tip nâ you already canât hah- speak?â he grins up at you, painful cock twitching with delight when you clench around him at the sting. Loving this slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. âUse your words properly, doll.â
You huff, nails digging into Tojiâs plush pecs to stabilize yourself on top of him. âThought I was too- hah- full. Thought I couldnât handle havinâ you inside me again.â
âHeh- well what did I t-tell, ya?â he grunts, hips still thrusting - still pushing in mindless, semi-thrusts up. Wondering if you could feel his cum sloshing around inside you like he could. âAs if I donât know my girlâs pussy- As if I canât handle this p-pussy. As if this pussy canât handle me-âÂ
One hand dances back down to push further against your front. Dredging up every last glob of his seed down your sloppy cunt, forming a creamy ring at his base that he groans at. âYâcan handle it now, right?â The other glides the pads of his fingers across your needy clit, making you arch your body down in surprise. His cock slipping deeper down your pussy, âFuuuuck yeah, you can definitely handle it now.â
âToji.â you let out a warning. Your already-ravaged cunt so sensitive. Fingers tightening to leave neat little marks of red down his sculpted skin, âThought you p-promised it was jusâ gonna be the ah- tip.â
Because his movements were getting deeper. Dangerous.Â
Still shallow - but purposeful enough that you were sliding way past âjust his tipâ. And you could feel that sinfully prominent vein from about halfway down his shaft massaging against your sweet spots.Â
Yet Toji only flashes you a devilish grin, no trace of guilt anywhere. Eyes half-lidded and devouring your adorable pout. âI did.â Giving you just barely enough time to relax before the hand firm on your stomach rests at your waist. Pulling - dragging you all the way down his massive cock. Tugged down like such a slut until he was buried balls-deep, your puffy folds kissing his hilt, your pelvis grinding against those tufts of black at his. âFor now, that is.â
Ah, this is his favorite part.
He doesnât waste even a second before making use of those muscled hips, giving you one, long thrust to haul your slobbering cunt all the way from the very end of his fat head down until he physically couldnât anymore.Â
Bruising. Fully. Fucking every false complaint out of you when his cock is finally hitting the back of your needy pussy.Â
âThink sâtime for you to handle all of me now, doll.â
⥠NANAMI KENTO - âAre you muted?â
Nanami Kento hated working overtime. And he especially hated having to sit at home on his desk, sighing during those droning online meetings which really couldâve been a five-minute conversation at work on Monday.
Which is where you came in.
âMhm, of course mâmuted, my love. Cameraâs also off.â he answers your previous question with a slow, sensual drawl into your ear. Thumb gliding across your puffy cunt as he echoes patiently for the first time that hour, âBut if youâre gonna be here then you better behave, my love.â Bouncing his knee to shuffle your quivering body where it was perched so prettily on his lap - and his aching, rock-hard cock. âAny deeper than the tip and you hngh- know how sâgonna end.â
A promise.Â
But itâs been like this for so long now - too long, you think.
Your gummy walls squeeze desperately at that sensitive slit on Nanamiâs length, lapping at his weeping precum. Wrists tugging uselessly where heâd tied them together behind your back with his familiar yellow tie. âBut Ken, I really want-â
âI know I know, darling.â he presses a gentle kiss to the side of your pouty lips. Hushing those cute, whiny cries of yours that make his swollen cock twitch wildly, balls squeezing so painfully with the sweet sweet temptation to just stuff your tight pussy full. âBut if I-â
âNanami, have you completed the progress report for the client tomorrow?â
Instantly, your husband is in work mode, clearly his ragged voice lightly before hitting the Unmute button. âYes, Higuruma IâveâŠâ
But oh his actions were anything but.Â
Free hand still drawing quick, methodical circles on your clit - just daring you to make a noise while he continues so unfairly with the meeting as if nothing is happening. His deep voice rumbling in his chest with satisfaction, and yet youâre left helpless and aching for more.
âBut Ken.â you breathe into his ear, just low enough that the microphone couldnât pick up. Pushing past the vice-like hold that he had on your hips to seat his delicious cock further and further inside your gummy walls. âWanâ more. Please, Iâve been patient for so long.â
â-and the charts from last week Iâll have to email.â Nanami rattles off, all business-like, the authoritative tone sending your cunt beading your juices all down his already-soaked cock. Hardened eyes brushing briefly against yours, though he still addresses his business partner, âIâll make sure to take care of that later.â
And fuck the shivers this sends down your spine have you trembling in Nanamiâs practised touch.Â
Bucking your hips needily into his hand, your slick leaves a lewd little sheen all over his palm, his wrist, all the way down to that metal wrist watch digging into your skin.
âT-take care of it now, Ken.â youâre mewling stubbornly, fighting against those restraints.Â
Letting your pussy lips fuck back into his thick cock. Deeper. Needier. Sucking him up so good that heâs letting go of your hips to mute himself again.
And fuck if you werenât going to take the opportunity to just slam yourself down Nanamiâs massive length, all the way until you could feel his abs against your ass. That little divot on his thick head smashing against your sweet spots, molding your plushy walls to the shape of his entire cock.Â
âO-oh fuck.â he breathes, words cracking ever-so-slightly at the end. âThe meeting- thought I said just the- hah youâre gonna be the death of me, my love.â
Before you can respond, Higurumaâs chuckling from behind the screen, cutting through the heady air in the room. âHeh, guess youâve had enough of this since youâre already muted Nanami. Fair enough, Iâve kept you long enough.âÂ
And the words ring in the air, Nanamiâs eyes unwavering from his laptop. Turned crazed as he looks to you, a hand already beginning to shut the screen.
âYouâre free to go, make up your time with the wife or somethi-â
Slamming it closed.Â
Followed shortly by you - being slammed onto the ground. Nanamiâs hand underneath your face, cushioning the impact when youâre shoved face-first. Him mounting on you in a split second, strong thighs flexing with the effort to fuck you right there right then into the hardwood floor. Depraved. Animalistic.Â
Not faltering for even a moment when heâs pulling you back by the tie digging into your wrists, sure to leave marks. Using the moment to watch the way your ass ripples every time heâs ramming into you.Â
âKen- fuck! Kento-â you sob like a mantra when he hikes up a leg of his to hit all those angles that have him bruising your sweet spots. Thrusts long, hard. Not leaving a single spot inside your gummy cunt untouched. âSâtoo good too good too good- hah- wanâed this for so long since you were on that meeting. So hngh- close.â
âM-me too.â Nanami responds, sounding nothing like the put-together business man he was a few moments ago. Almost crazed now. Unpredictable.Â
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same.Â
All it takes are a few filthy, nasty strokes of his sensitive cock into your snug pussy, of his fingers toying and teasing your clit - and then youâre cumming so fucking hard around him.Â
Your walls sucking him in a smooth staccato like you were trying to milk the fucking soul out of Nanami while he drills into you through the pleasure. Not even thinking twice before spilling into your greedy pussy himself.Â
Thick, creamy spurts of cum that warm you from the inside out. Reaching all those hidden spots inside while he pumps it deeper and deeper.
âOh, my love.â Nanami groans when he pools the seed dribbling out of your cunt with ease. Making a mess of your pussy down below, of that creamy ring at his hilt. âDonât think mâdone making up for my overtime yet.â
⥠GETO SUGURU - Battle of wills
âAwww.â you hear Getoâs deep voice cooing softly in your ear. Running his mouth smugly - as if he wasnât just smashing the angry, soaked tip of his cock into you right now. âYou canât even talk right now. You canât even breathe.â
Fuck, if it was any less true then you mightâve argued - maybe spat out a hissy little comment.Â
But, instead, youâre managing out a wet gurgle, Getoâs thick, ringed fingers tightening where they were wrapped prettily around your neck. âI-I-â
The other draws languid, torturous circles on your sensitive clit, just as teasing as the way his hips were just barely pushing past your sopping wet slit. Nudging your honeyed walls with only his fat head. âWhat was that, gorgeous?â
âI said.â you gasp, when your beloved boyfriend mercifully lets his grip loosen ever-so-slightly to let you answer. âI- Iâm going to win the bet, Sugu.â
Ah, the bet. That stupid, thoughtless little challenge youâd posed just a few hours ago about whoâd break first if Geto was to fuck your tight pussy with just his tip.Â
Who knew it would end up with your face pushed into the silky covers of your pillow, both of you barely-lucid and losing your minds as Geto pounded into you as much as he allowed himself to? Both your pathetic prides holding back, just waiting for the other to break first.
Getoâs voice was tinged with amusement, something so dark and mellow as he purrs against the shell of your ear. Cold metal rings digging into your flesh, you choke. âWell thenâŠâ His sinful abs flex ominously against your back, â-weâll just have to see, right?â
âH-hey!â you gasp for air when he slams his hips forwards, letting your dripping cunt envelope him all the way down to that wide rim of his slit.Â
âWhat?â he muses in response, circles speeding up and so so messy on your sensitive nub now. âSâjusâ the tip right? Exactly what I did. Iâm-â Before moving again, in sultry, purposeful rolls of his slutty hips back and forth. â-not gonna be the hah- one losing this bet.â
Fuck, youâd forgotten how competitive your boyfriend was - always going easy, until he decided he wanted to win.
Getoâs eyes flit between his fingers, blocking your airway, and the wide wide rim of your sloppy entrance being stretched upon his thick head.Â
Shit, the sight itself was heavenly enough that it had him almost second-guessing his resolve and stuffing you full like he wanted to. Almost.Â
âClose to surrender?â heâs panting out when a few more shallow, teasing half-strokes has your gummy walls clenching around him like youâre trying to drag out something delicious. Exactly the way he loves - exactly the way heâs addicted to. And, usually, Geto would tell you over and over how much he loves it - but, this time, his ego makes him simply leave a wet trail of kisses down your arched spine. Murmuring heatedly into your ear, âNo shame in ngh- giving up, yâknow.â
Harder. Deeper - almost.Â
Squealing airily, âMânot- mânot giving up.â
Immediately, Getoâs chuckling when he squeezes your pretty neck tighter, âMâgonna choke you harder when you lie, gorgeous. Now tell me-â Just wringing out syrupy moans of his name with each push. Each urgent flick of his fingers on your clit - not even circles anymore, fuck no he was too far gone for that now. Just messy, senseless patterns. âYâgonna lose like my ah- p-pretty girl or am I gonna hafta keep treating you like my bitch?â
âBut-â you wheeze.Â
âI hngh- also really wanna fuck this cute cunt properly, yâknow/â
Your visionâs blurring now, lungs straining for air. Yet youâre so cockdrunk that all you can focus on is the lewd curve of Getoâs dick, barely even realizing when your hips are trying to inch down for more. Jolting with each rub of his thumb against your clit.Â
Harder. Deeper.Â
âSugu!â youâre screaming when you recklessly slam yourself back to meet his ruthless cadence. All the way back until your ass was pressing flush against the v-line jutting out from Getoâs toned pelvis. Shoving his cock so deep inside your plushy cunt it felt like his fat tip was making its mark against your lungs.
You lost - gladly.Â
And for all his confidence, Geto Suguru is shocked. Half-lidded eyes flying open, teeth biting down on his lower lip so hard with the effort to hold back his disbelieving moans it was like he was trying to draw blood.Â
âO-oh oh my god. Fuck fuck fuck fuck-â he shudders, jaw falling slack, swollen cock colliding in and out with your needy cunt.Â
You send him a delirious half-glance, âAre you ok-â
The hand rested around your throat immediately comes down - finally letting you breathe. Only to just slam your head back down onto the pillow so you canât see how utterly fucked he was. Keeping you still, âJust shut up and cum fâme, gorgeous.â
And oh you do - all over Getoâs pretty cock, your elastic walls molding around him to feel every ridge and bump as he fucks you through your wave of high. Hard. Fast. Sending electricity down your veins every time he hits the bullseye of your g-spot. Over and over and-
âH-hey, Sugu-â your teary face manages to look up from the pillow. Gummy walls still spasming around him, âBest out of three?â
⥠CHOSO KAMO - FIRST?!
It was a simple favor, really - just a way to help your dear best friend lose his virginity.
To shut up those adorable whines about how much he dreams of feeling your- a pussy wrapped around his cock. And when he looked to you for help with those dark, puppy-dog eyes? Well, how could you ever say no?
Which is why you have Choso splayed out on your mattress, hazy gaze bulging when you straddle his toned hips. Sliding his tight boxers down his thighs - fuck, he was massive. A delicate, innocent pink at his angry head, leaking endless precum all the way down, down, down his creamy length.Â
âJusâ the tip, right?â you hum. Cunt throbbing at the sight of his swollen cock twitching up in interest at the mere sound of your sultry tone. âJusâ to have you feel me?â
âGod, yes.â he whispers - barely even audible, when you slot his leaky tip between your puffy folds. Letting your pussy drool your sweet sweet juices all over him. âYes yes yes hurry please need to feel you- just the tip just the-â Chosoâs voice breaks when you just barely press him past that first ring of resistance. âOh- oh fuuuuck this is what it feels like? Hngh-â
The stretch of his fat head inside was so sinful. So maddening and shit- if this was what it was like with barely half of his tip in, then it drove you insane to wonder what itâd be like if you took in all of him. Smirking, âMhm? You hah- like this, Cho?â
Fuck, hearing that little nickname right now makes Choso get even girthier, cock swelling painfully to stretch your sloppy hole.
âL-like this?â he asks, voice ragged with genuine disbelief. Barely-lucidly bringing one of your hands up to his face to press a soft, lingering kiss. âOh, baby, I l-love this.â
Heâs inching his thick head in further and further, kissing down your neck wetly.Â
Youâre choking when he starts up a messy, urgent rut of his hips upwards - untimed and sloppy like he didnât know how to use his unforgiving cock yet, like he didnât even realize what he was doing. Just bare, shallow little thrusts that have your hole stretching out and molding to the shape of his needy tip.Â
Babbling, âFuck, whatâve you done to me? How can you f-feel so good- how can you-â
Over and over and-
âO-oh, Cho!â you gasp when he accidently brushes up against one of your hidden sweet spots. Eyes going wide, jaw falling into an awestruck âohâ at as you buck and clamp down so fucking tight around him. Begging, âThere- fuck fuck there wanâ more- hngh wanâ more of you, please.âÂ
The only response youâre getting is a string of incoherent profanity. Shit, Choso thinks heâs gonna pass out - that he might just paint your pretty pussy white already.Â
But because he couldnât stand the embarrassment of that, he wraps his big arms so tight around your waist. Running a palm to cradle your scalp, he hisses when he presses a kiss to your forehead, âCanât.â And the word has barely left his sagging lips before Choso gives an unplanned, jagged thrust up into your cunt. Body moving before his mind to bully his swollen cock inside, spreading your puffy folds along the veins down his length. âCanât- just the tip- shouldnât.âÂ
âSâokay, Choââ
âBut-â
You were his best friend. His favorite person - and he always did feel guilty for thinking of you, cock in hand, on those long lonely nights. So this is the last thing he should be doing.Â
But, oh it was like a dam had been broken open, and despite his words, Chosoâs mouth is salivating at the thought.Â
Pushing in sweet, desperate bucks of his hips to just drag your sloppy pussy down deeper and deeper - unknowingly, all the way down to his soaked base. Yet Choso was still pushing and pushing deliriously.Â
âJust the tip just the- shouldnât do this-â he pants against your open mouth, nipping and sucking on your bottom lips. âOnly ever ngh- dreamed of this.â Each word is punctured by a rough ram into your dripping cunt, molding your gummy walls to that upwards curve of his dick. Reeling out a honeyed ah! ah! ah! from you every time his pretty veins were pulsing against your sensitive spots. âShouldnât ohhh I shouldnât- fuck!â
Choso loses the end of his sentence - and his sanity - when he dares take a greedy look downwards.Â
Being met with the absolutely obscene sight of your poor cunt being split apart on him. Realizing he was now very much past his tip, veering into the dangerous territory of your pussy lips kissing his toned pelvis, milking him until there was nothing more.Â
âHeh.â His glassy eyes look up when you giggle, âSo much for hah- âjusâ the tipâ, huh?â
Choso grins - a languid, pussydrunk grin you never thought you could even imagine on your sweet best friend. Purring lowly, âOh, my girl.Because of you mânever gonna be satisfied with just the tip ever again.â
⥠RYOMEN SUKUNA - Please, please, please
âApology not accepted, brat.â Sukuna spits out over your blubbering cries, still holding your squirming hips so stupidly still around his fat tip. Nothing more, nothing less. âNuh uh, this is all yer gonna get if you wanna hah- complain so much.â
Now, Ryomen Sukuna is a strong man, always has been. He hasnât missed those concerned looks strangers give you when heâs out in public with you, or the way your coworkersâ eyes widened in shock when they first saw him.Â
The strongest - for everything except you.Â
So, when he overhears you gossiping with your little friends about how maybe heâs too big - how itâs a bit of a hassle to lose your ability to walk every night - then, well, that spiteful little part of himself decides itâs time to give you exactly what you want.Â
Youâre wriggling your ass downwards, gummy walls sucking him up trying to sink further and further down Sukunaâs dizzying cock, âB-but Kuna-âÂ
âB-b-but Kuna.â He mocks in a pitch higher than normal, two thick fingers coming up to squish your tear-stained cheeks together into an embarrassing pout. Smirking down greedily, âBut what? You were runninâ this pretty mouth earlier, what happened now, hm? Too cockdrunk?â
And fuck, he didnât expect you to be in the state to think up an answer to that question - he didnât think you even heard it at first, too busy trying to milk his cock for all he was worth.Â
But oh you always did surprise him.Â
Teary, overstimulated gaze locking with his dark one when you give an unsteady, determined nod. Whimpering, âF-fuck yes.âÂ
Unbeknownst to himself - and his little scheme to punish you - your lewd little answer has Sukunaâs hips jutting forwards. Bullying past your gummy resistance to spearhead just a tinge more than his fat head into your sloppy entrance.Â
âO-oh.â he groans, dropping his head feverishly into the crook of your neck. Trying to get back some control over his own body, but shit just an ounce of the way your slutty cunt was massaging every ridge and curve of his swollen cock and the king of curses just breaks. Heâs biting his sharp canines down on your lower lip in what can barely be called a kiss. Messy. âOh you little minx. You evil, evil-â He gives a punctuated half-thrust. â-brat.â
And thatâs all it takes for Sukuna to be drunk on your cunt. To sink his achingly hard cock in so deep that it has his heavy balls smacking your ass, his leaky tip pressing a harsh peck to your poor cervix.Â
Deeper.Â
Hips immediately snapping forwards to replicate those purposeful, long slams you were tittering about just earlier today.Â
âYouâre so fuckin- hah-â he sucks in a shaky breath when you clench down on him hard. Absent-mindedly, Sukuna toys his free thumb down to roll against your neglected clit, wondering if this was part of your evil plan. Spitting against your kiss-bitten lips, â-unfair. Riling me up, complaining about it being âtoo muchâ nâ then taking it like such a slut.â
Itâs all you can do to moan brokenly, âWasnât- wasnât complaining.â
For this, youâre getting a punishing smack! to your ravaged clit, immediately followed by an apologetic circle of Sukunaâs fingers. Harder. âSo now youâre gonna ngh- lie while mâfucking you like this?â
As if to prove his point - and maybe drag out a few more of your honeyed cries on his cock - heâs reeling his hips back. Letting his throbbing veins massage against every inch of your elastic walls until it was just the ends of his thick head left inside you now. âReally? Real confident for someone that was just begging for my cock, yâknow.â
âN-no!â you gasp, panicked. Your ankles manage to lock around Sukunaâs sculpted waist, digging into those sinful dimples at the end of his spine to push his length in deeper - just the way you liked it. âNo no no- ngh was a compliment. A compliment I swear! Was bragging ah-â
He leers oh so cockily, âOh really?â
Only growing at your urgent nod, your glossy lips falling into such a pretty pout, âPromise. Would n-never hah- complain about your cock, Kuna.â
Fuck, did you know how to drive him insane.Â
To have him playing right into your pretty lilâ hands.Â
Because each and every word spilling out of your delirious mouth has Sukuna fucking you deeper and deeper into the mattress. So animalistic with the way he was plunging into you like some glorified sextoy, the curve of his dick rubbing spots inside your gummy walls that you didnât even know existed. That have you seeing stars. That have him forgetting that stupid promise of âjust the tipâ.
Too big? Fucking hilarious, you were lucky if you could make it out alive tonight with the way all the blood in his massive body was rushing to Sukunaâs dick, stretching him to an obscene girth.Â
âFuck- fuck fuck fuck-â heâs grunting with each nudge against your cervix, your g-spot. Bruising you from the inside out. âWell thenâŠâ Heâs wrestling your nodding face towards him, thrusts growing more and more erratic with each moan. â-letâs give you some more to brag about, hm?â
⥠GOJO SATORU - (Mind)break!
No one would believe their ears if they could see the great Gojo Satoru right about now. That Gojo Satoru? The strongest? The cocky lilâ shit that upturned desks and skipped out on every single jujutsu meeting?
Of course, it wasnât the same Gojo Satoru that came straight to you after a particularly taxing jujutsu mission, eyes wide - crazed, a feral grin on him thatâd never left. Of course, it wasnât the same Gojo Satoru that had to take only one look at you before ripping your poor clothes off, pent-up jujutsu still thrumming behind his fingers where he folded you into such a mean mating press. Making you cum over and over selfishly while he hasnât even once.Â
Of course.Â
But here he was - around your third orgasm, his face buried nose-deep at your erratic pulse, powerful hips jerky and stuttering while he tried to keep his swollen cock controlled, buried inside your heavenly cunt still only till that pretty pink slit at his head.Â
Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he didnât want to break you just yet.Â
âAww, look at you- fuck!â Gojo whines when the tip of his sensitive cock brushes up against another one of your sweet spots. Reeling back ever-so-slightly to spit right onto your bulging cunt once. Twice. âFuck just look at you, sweetheart.â
And before you can react, a large hand is enveloping your cheeks. Sending a buzz of electricity from his touch to where he was tilting your head down, forcing you to look at the obscene sight below you.Â
Your ravaged cunt all messy and glistening with the excess of Gojoâs saliva, slobbering even filthier down the head of his unforgiving cock. Red and angry, each slow, controlled grind just begging for you to take him whole.Â
The little gasp that leaves your candied lips is enough for Gojo to moan gutturally, âOhhh look at that- look at that. Makes me wanna hah-â His ragged words trail off, thighs flexing like they were about to shove himself up, up, up and- only for your boyfriend to gather whateverâs left of his sanity with a sharp intake of breath. â-wanna break you.â
Stubbornly, you jut out your kiss-bitten lower lip, grinding your hips up pathetically to try and take some more greedy inches for yourself. âWhy not? Wanâ more than jusâ the tip, gimme ngh all of it.â
âHeh, my needy girl. So- so cock-hungry, huh?â Gojo spits, another steady stream of saliva hitting your waiting tongue- wait, when did you even let it loll out like that? He plows on, thumb gliding over to gloss it over your lips. âWish I could- ohhh I wish so bad. But mâtoo fuckinâ hah- worked up after that mission. Canât handle- canât control hngh-â
Each word sounds stilted - pained. And Gojoâs giving minute, almost-unidentifiable thrusts puncturing each one. Slowly but surely losing his sanity as well as his restraint.Â
If either of you were in any better state of mind, maybe youâd have noticed that glowing tinge in his hazy eyes, the little crackles of purple lighting dancing down his milky skin.Â
But, no, instead youâre whining, âI donât care, Toruââ
âNo you d-donât get to do that.â he gasps, eyes going wide at that unfair nickname. Giving a dangerous half-thrust into your gummy walls. âNo no no no you donât get to do that. Mâonly giving you the tip right now.â And youâre being gifted a messy little graze of Gojoâs plump lips against your own, hissing when you bite down. âDonât know the ngh- extent of my power. Sâunstable- could kill- hah destroy-â
âYou talk too much.âÂ
Gojo can sense it before it happens - of course he can. And he knows he should stop it, for the safety of you and less importantly, the entirety of Japan. He knows he should keep fucking you with just his fat head, keeping as much composure as possible.Â
But Gojo lets it happen anyway.
Letting those wobbly legs of yours dangling around his broad shoulders lock in an instant to just nudge his body forwards. Sighing when you feel the stretch of his rock-hard cock making their mark past his thick head.Â
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining too bright that they burst into little shards of energy.
Yet it doesnât matter to you or Gojo, his electric-blue eyes burning bright into the darkness. Tiny flicks of lightning illuminating your ruined bedroom as his entire body stiffens for a split-second. Jolting like heâd come to life - and in one, fluid movement, he was buried inside your tight pussy. Fully.Â
Fuck, Gojoâs stretched so taut. Something ugly, dangerous snapping in him when thatâs all it takes for him to be releasing thick rope after rope of his seed. Cumming and cumming so hard itâs like he canât stop. Wonât stop.Â
Knows he wonât for a very, very long time even when you reach your high for the fourth time that night. Milking him for every single drop.Â
Even when his cum paints your gummy walls a white to match his hair, filling you up so much that it overspills. Forming a lewd little pool below that makes you tremble impossibly deeper down Gojoâs still hard cock.Â
And the only thing you can hear in the moment the low crackle of jujutsu in the suddenly pressurized air, and the sinful squelches as Gojo steadies his hips back dangerously. Readying. Letting out a raspy, barely-audible whisper, âIf we make it out of this alive, remind me to buy you plan B, sweetheart.â
A/N. Tony stop writing Higuruma cameos challenge GO! (Failed)
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
17K notes
·
View notes
Text
JUST THIS ONCE | JJK
summary. when you complain to jungkook about your lack of action in the past year, you're not really asking for a solution. but when he casually offers to help, you just can't seem to bring yourself to say no.
after all, what's the worst that could happen in hooking up just this once?
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff (?)
word count: 5.1k
warnings: youâre gonna get sick of the title loll, brief alcohol consumption, this is lowkey pwp (there will be more plot soon i promise) swearing, explicit sexual content, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (m. receiving), heâs very cocky but also pathetic, multiple orgasms, lots of banter and teasing as dirty talk, petnames (baby), jk calls oc a brat x2, multiple positions, insinuated aftercare, let me know if i missed anything!
notes: you guys built this fic!! this was supposed to be out on thursday but i realised i was being wayy to ambitious cuz i definitely needed more than two days to write this loll. but alas, itâs here :3 as always, likes, comments, reblogs, feedback and asks are very appreciated! enjoy reading angels <33
ps. THERE WILL BE A PART TWO!!
â masterlist. â taglist. â feedback
You fumble with your keys, swaying just slightly as you try to jab the right one into the lock. Behind you, Jungkookâs laughing under his breath, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck.
âNeed help?â he asks, the amusement in his voice unmistakable.
âIâve got it,â you say, jabbing the key with exaggerated precision. The door finally clicks open, and you push it in with a triumphant, âHa!â
âYouâre so competent,â he deadpans, clapping a mock applause as he follows you in. His shoulder bumps yours as he passes. âItâs honestly inspiring.â
You kick off your shoes, tossing your keys into the bowl by the door. âAnd youâre so annoying,â you mutter, but thereâs no heat in it.
Jungkook drops onto your couch like itâs his own, sprawling out like he owns the place. Which, in some ways, he kind of does.
A hoodie of his is already slung over the back of a kitchen chair, from some night two weeks ago when he stayed too late and decided not to drive home. Thereâs an energy drink in your fridge with his name written on the lid in Sharpie. The blanket heâs tugging over his lap? Thatâs the one he gifted you for Christmas, mostly so he could use it whenever he came over.
Itâs always been like this.
He tosses his denim jacket on the couch as you grab two bottles of water from the fridge, chucking one to him without warning. He catches it with the ease.
âYou were definitely flirting with that bartender,â he says, unscrewing the cap and looking at you with that maddeningly smug smile.
You scoff. âHe had a mullet and called me âmiss.â It wasnât flirtingâ it was survival.â
âSure,â he says, nodding like he totally believes you. âThatâs why you laughed at everything he said, even when he asked if you liked your tequila neat.â
âIt was neat!â you say, defensive and laughing at the same time. âAnd besides, you flirted with the girl in the fishnets for, like, an hour.â
He shrugs. âGuilty. She had good taste in music. And thighs.â
You groan and flop down beside him on the couch, letting your head fall back against the cushion. Your thigh brushes his, but you donât move. Neither does he. The buzz from the party is still warm in your blood, and the apartment feels too quiet now â too intimate without the noise and lights and other bodies.
âYou ever think weâre just... really bad at dating?â you ask, staring at the ceiling.
âConstantly,â Jungkook says, without hesitation.
You glance at him. âLike, maybe we peaked in college.â
He makes a face. âDonât say that. I refuse to believe my best years happened while I was still eating instant ramen and failing comp sci.â
You laugh, and he turns his head toward you, watching you with that soft-eyed expression you know too well. Thereâs something about Jungkook when heâs like this â no bravado, no teasing smirk, just... present. His hair is a mess from the wind, and a dark tank top hugs his figure.
Heâs too comfortable here. Too familiar.
âI genuinely think Iâve forgotten what a good kiss feels like,â you say, mostly to the ceiling, like itâs a throwaway thought.
Jungkook hums. âThat bad, huh?â
âItâs not even bad, itâs just...â You trail off, searching for the word. âEmpty. Mechanical. Like everyoneâs going through the motions, but nobodyâs actually there.â
He shifts slightly, angling his body more toward you. âSo no decent kissers at all lately?â
You shake your head. âNo decent anything, if Iâm honest.â
He raises an eyebrow, curious.
You hesitate, but the alcohol in your system makes it easier to say what you probably wouldnât sober. âI havenât slept with anyone in like... almost a year.â
Jungkook blinks, not in judgment, just surprised. âSeriously?â
âYeah.â You rub at your temple with a laugh. âI didnât plan it or anything. It just kind of... kept not happening. And then it became this weird streak, and now here we are.â
Heâs quiet for a moment.
âWell,â he says eventually, âmaybe your standards are just too high.â
âOr maybe men are just mid,â you shoot back.
That gets a laugh out of him, loud and bright. He tips his head back, and you watch his throat move as he laughs. Too long. Too hard. When he calms down, he gives you a look â something mischievous that you've grown to know too well over the years.
"What?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at him with a smile.
He shrugs. âI mean... I could help."
âWith my standards?â
âWith the streak.â
You snort. âWhat, you offering?â
âMaybe.â
You tilt your head. âSo what? You wanna bang it out?â
Itâs meant to be funny. Youâre grinning when you say it. But when you look at him â really look â heâs not laughing.
His gaze lingers on your mouth for a beat too long. Then his eyes flick up to yours.
âJust this once?â he asks, voice low. Careful. Like heâs giving you an out.
You donât answer right away. The room goes still. The hum of the fridge feels too loud. His eyes are still on you, and itâs not a look youâve ever seen from him before.
Your heart stutters in your chest.
You swallow. âWouldn't it be weird?â
He doesnât move. Doesnât look away.
âOnly if we let it be.â
You sit there for a second, the weight of it all hitting a little too fast. Your brainâs still catching up to your mouth, to the way your bodyâs buzzing â not from the alcohol anymore, but from him. From the heat in his eyes, the way he said it â almost like a dare.
And then his expression shifts.
His eyes flick away, and his tongue runs over the silver ring on his bottom lip, like heâs pulling it back, reeling it in.
âOnly if you want to, obviously,â he says, quieter this time. âWe donât have to.â
He starts to lean back like he's resetting the mood â like this moment can still be folded back into the safety of your usual teasing â but you stop him.
You move first.
You grab the front of his tank top â not hard, not dramatic, just enough â and you pull him in.
You kiss him.
Itâs abrupt. Heat over hesitation. A split-second decision that tastes like tequila and impulse, like comfort and fuck it all wrapped up in the same breath.
At first, he doesnât move, frozen in surprise. But then he kisses you back â really kisses you back â and suddenly you're not thinking anymore.
His hand slides to your thigh, just enough pressure to ground you, and you shift toward him instinctively, knees brushing his. His mouth moves against yours with a kind of focused laziness, like heâs savouring it. Like heâs trying to figure out exactly how you taste.
You pull back half a second, just to breathe, lips brushing his as you mutter, âTook you long enough.â
He laughs into your mouth, low and smug. âYou kissed me.â
âYeah, well. You looked like you were gonna bail.â
âI was being respectful,â he says, voice muffled against your jaw as he starts kissing along it. âBut sure, letâs call it bailing.â
You gasp a little when he nips at your neck, just enough pressure to make you arch toward him. Your hands slide under his top, fingers skimming the warm skin of his back, and he shivers under your touch.
âJesus,â you murmur. âHow are you this built? You eat, like, gas station snacks and leftover noodles.â
âI work out,â he mutters between kisses, grinning as he drags his mouth back to yours. âAlso, youâve seen me shirtless.â
âYeah, but not like this.â
âLike what?â
You tug him closer until your chest presses to his. âLike I get to touch.â
That shuts him up real quick.
He kisses you again, this time more urgently, and you feel the change in the air â less teasing, more want. Your legs shift to straddle his lap without thinking, your hands sliding up into his hair, tugging just a little.
He groans, deep and rough, biting down on your bottom lip before kissing it better. You rock your hips forward slightly and he bucks up into you with a hiss.
âYouâre gonna kill me,â he mutters, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.
You smirk against his mouth. âYou offered, remember?â
âYeah, and Iâm rapidly realising that was a dangerous choice.â
You laugh, breathless, before kissing him again. He tastes like beer and something sweeter â probably the gum he always chews. You bite his lip and feel him groan into your mouth, hips jerking beneath you.
His fingers slip under your shirt, warm on your skin. Not rushed, just exploring â like heâs been curious for a while and is finally allowed to look.
You roll your hips again, slower this time, and his head drops back against the cushion with a low fuck that makes your stomach flip.
âYou still sure about this?â you ask, teasing, as your hands drag down his chest, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.
His eyes open â dark, focused, amused.
âYou gonna stop me if I say no?â
You shake your head. âNope.â
âThen yeah,â he says, breath hitching as your fingers reach his abdomen. âIâm very sure.â
He catches your fingers before you can finish unbuttoning his jeans.
You raise a brow, breath still uneven. âSeriously?â
He nods, steady, calm in a way that only makes your pulse pound harder. âI said I was helping you, didnât I?â
âYeah, but I thought that was like... a mutual helping situation.â
His mouth twitches. âYou always gotta argue when Iâm trying to do something nice?â
You open your mouth to throw something back â something biting, something stupid â but he leans in and kisses you before you can get the words out. One hand still wrapped around your wrist, the other cupping your jaw.
He pulls back just enough to speak.
âLet me take care of you.â
You stare at him for a beat, heart kicking hard in your chest.
âFine,â you mutter, trying to sound unbothered. âBut don't expect any thank yous or shit.â
âIâll survive,â he says, already smirking as his fingers work at your jeans. âThough, for the record, I think youâre gonna want to.â
You snort â right before he pops the button of your jeans and drags the zipper down, knuckles brushing your skin. You shiver.
âGod, youâre cocky.â
He glances up, eyes flicking to yours. âYou saying I havenât earned it?â
You donât answer. Your breath stutters when his hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties, palm flush against you.
He stills.
âFuck,â he murmurs, voice dropping. âYouâre wet already?â
âShut up.â
He smiles cockily.
You roll your eyes â try to, anyway â but your thighs are already parting, your body moving without conscious thought. His fingers slide into you, testing the waters, and your head tips back with a soft sigh.
He watches your face like heâs waiting for something. When your mouth parts, when your hips twitch toward his hand, thatâs when he moves.
His thumb finds your bud and he's gentle at first. Circling, then rubbing just a little firmer. You bite your lip hard, trying not to give him the satisfaction of the noises building in your throat.
âStill not thanking you,â you say through clenched teeth.
âOh, you will,â he says, low. âEventually.â
You glare at him. He grins back, fingers dragging lower, slipping in without resistance. You suck in a breath, and he laughs softly under it.
âOkay?â he asks, suddenly serious again.
You nod, maybe too quickly. âYeah. More than okay.â
He starts moving his fingers â slow at first, too slow. Like heâs enjoying making you wait. You squirm, trying to rock your hips into his hand, but he tightens his grip on your thigh.
âNuh-uh,â he says, eyes gleaming. âYouâre letting me do the work, remember?â
âI hate you.â
âYouâre literally grinding on my hand right now.â
You reach out blindly and smack his chest. He doesnât even flinch â just slips another finger in, and your breath catches so hard it punches the air from your lungs.
âThere it is,â he murmurs.
His thumb picks up a rhythm again, and the pressure starts to build fast. He knows it, too. His free hand slides around your waist, steadying you as your body starts to shake. Your fist curls into the soft fabric of his top, needing something to hold onto.
âStill hate me?â he asks, voice rougher now, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.
âDonât flatter yourselfâ fuckââ
âYeah?â His fingers curl just right, and your whole body tenses. âRight there?â
You nod, desperate, eyes squeezed shut. Your thighs are shaking. Youâre so close you canât even keep up the bit.
âSay it,â he says.
âSay what?â
âTell me how good I make you feel.â
You groan. âJesus, Jungkookââ
He slows down suddenly, barely moving his hand.
You whine. Actually whine.
âThatâs not what I asked for.â
âGod, youâre annoying,â you say, breathless.
He grins. âYou're the one being the brat here.â
You drag your eyes open and glare at him, but itâs all heat now. All want. You lean in close, lips pressing against his.
"Fuckâ fine. You feel so fucking good, Kook. Please, just don't stop."
He doesnât.
He kisses you hard and fast, and his fingers start again, slick and firm and relentless. Your body clenches around him and this time, you donât even try to hold the sounds back. His name leaves your mouth like muscle memory, and he groans into your kiss, like heâs the one coming undone.
When you break the kiss to suck in air, he presses his forehead to yours, voice rough in your ear.
âThatâs it. Let go for me.â
You do.
Your body arches, thighs trembling as the orgasm washes over you sharp and fast. Your fingers dig into his back, into his top, into anything that keeps you tethered.
He doesnât stop until youâre gasping, twitching, pushing his hand away because youâre too sensitive now.
He pulls back finally, breath warm against your skin, his fingers wet. He looks at you, gaze heavy, lips parted.
Then, without a word, he brings his fingers to your mouth.
âOpen,â he says, low and steady.
You blink at him, your body still humming, brain half-melted. âWhatâ?â
He brushes two slick fingers against your bottom lip, and your mouth parts on instinct.
âYou said no thank yous,â he says, smirking. âSo thisâll do.â
You glare at him, but your lips close around his fingers anyway. He watches every second â the way your mouth wraps around them, the way your tongue slides against the pads. His expression flickers from cocky to wrecked.
âShit,â he mutters, voice rough now, the smugness cracking around the edges.
You suck once, slow and purposeful, eyes locked on his, and he jerks slightly under you â hips twitching like your mouth is on him instead. When you pull off with a soft pop, your lips are swollen and wet.
âYou said mutual help,â you murmur, breath still catching on the end of every word. âItâs your turn.â
He blinks, like heâs short-circuiting.
You slide off his lap slowly, hands dragging down his chest, and his breath catches when you settle between his legs on your knees. You palm him over his jeans, and he hisses, already hard under your touch.
âFuck,â he mutters, head tipping back.
âYou okay there?â you ask, voice sweet, taunting. âOr do you need me to go slower?â
He looks down at you, pupils blown, jaw clenched. âDonât be a brat.â
You unbutton his jeans, real slow, enjoying the way he twitches under your hands. âNo promises.â
You drag the zipper down, tugging his jeans and boxers low enough to free him. Heâs flushed and heavy, tip already glistening, and you swear you see his hips flex at just the sight of your mouth this close.
âHoly shit,â he breathes. âYou look way too good down there.â
You wrap your hand around his cock, giving one slow stroke, and he groans like it surprises him.
You start slow. Just your hand. Thumb brushing over the sensitive ridge under the head, watching his thighs tense beneath your touch. His head drops back against the couch cushion, and you feel the way his hips subtly shift toward you, like his bodyâs trying to chase more without him even realising it.
You lean in and lick a slow stripe from base to tip, tongue flat, deliberate. His breath catches â then shudders out of him like youâve knocked the air from his lungs.
âShit,â he mutters again, voice strained.
You hum like you agree, and wrap your lips around the head, just barely. You suck, not hard â just enough to make him twitch. Your hand works in tandem, slow, steady strokes, and your mouth follows, inching lower until the tip presses against the back of your throat.
He moans, raw and wrecked. âFuck, babyââ
The pet name is barely more than a gasp, almost like it slipped out without permission. Your stomach flips at the sound it.
His voice borders on the line of sounding pathetic, and it makes you want to press your thighs together.
You fall into rhythm â your lips sliding over him, tongue pressed firm underneath, hand twisting where your mouth leaves off. Every now and then, you let yourself get sloppy. Let the sound of it echo between you, let him hear what heâs doing to you.
Heâs falling apart above you. You can tell by the way his hand flexes and releases in your hair, the way his thighs tremble every time you sink a little deeper. Heâs breathing hard now, jaw slack, eyes barely open. Watching you. Like he still canât believe this is real.
âGod, your mouthââ His voice cuts off into a moan when you swallow around him, deep and slow. "You're gonna be the death of me."
You pull off just long enough to breathe, lips slick, chin wet. âYou deserve it.â
He laughs, but it breaks halfway through. Your hand doesnât stop moving.
âYou like watching me fall apart, huh?â
You look up through your lashes, tongue flicking over the head. âMore than a little.â
You go back down â deeper this time â and he chokes on a groan. His hips jerk up too sharply and he curses, hands fisting hard in your hair.
âShitâ Iâmââ Heâs panting now, thighs shaking. âIâm not gonna last if you keepâ fuck, donâtââ
You suck harder, then moan around him just to hear the sound he makes. Itâs almost a whimper.
âBaby, stopâ waitâ fuckâ pleaseââ
You pull off with a wet pop just before he tips over the edge, lips red and swollen, saliva clinging to your chin. Heâs barely keeping it together. Chest heaving, flushed to the neck, cock twitching where it rests against his stomach.
âYou were right there,â you say, feigning innocence, voice soft and ruined.
âExactly," he says, sitting up. "I'm not done with you yet."
He drags the fabric of his top over his head, tossing it aside without a second thought. The moment itâs off, your breath catches.
Fuck.
Heâs all golden skin and sharp lines, chest heaving, abs flexing with every breath. His tattoos curl over his shoulder and down his arm, black ink stark against flushed skin. His cockâs still hard, flushed dark, resting against his stomach, twitching when he sees the way youâre looking at him.
And you â still kneeling between his legs â canât look away.
Then you rise, shaky but determined, and pull your top over your head, letting it fall. His eyes snap to your chest, lips parting like heâs just been punched in the gut. You're movements are purposefully slow as you pull down your jeans, then your panties.
âJesus,â he mutters, eyes dragging down your body. âYouâre a fucking dream.â
You crawl back into his lap, your bare skin meeting his, and the contact makes both of you gasp. You straddle him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he groans the moment your heat presses against his cock.
He fumbles for a condom, pulling it out from an inner pocket in the jacket heâd draped onto the couch earlier.
You watch as he tears it open and rolls it on, fingers practiced but tense. You reach between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance, and the second his tip slides against your soaked folds, his grip tightens on your hips.
âFuck,â he mutters, voice shaking.
You sink down slowly, inch by thick inch, and your nails bite into his shoulders as you stretch around him. Heâs big â your pussy gripping him tight, wet and pulsing as he fills you up. Every nerve lights up, every breath gets harder to catch.
âHoly fuckââ His head drops to your chest, groaning against your skin. âYouâre so tight. So fucking warm. Gonna make me lose it.â
You whimper as you bottom out, walls fluttering around him. You can feel every vein, every twitch. Itâs almost too much. Almost.
But not enough.
You start to move â slow, dragging lifts of your hips, circling them on the way back down. He watches, hands clamped on your ass, guiding the grind of your body like he already knows how to make you fall apart again.
You ride him, pace picking up fast, desperate. Every time your hips drop, the base of his cock grinds against your clit, slick sounds filling the room with every slap of skin against skin. His cock hits deep, stretching you wide, and a moan passes your lips.
He groans are low and guttural, eyes locked to where your bodies meet. âGoddamn, baby. Watching you fuck yourself on my cockâ shitâ never gonna forget this.â
Youâre panting now, thighs burning, rhythm faltering. You try to keep going, but your legs are shaking.
He notices.
Without a word, he shifts under you, plants his feet flat on the floor, and grabs your hips tight.
âLet me help you, yeah?â
You nod. âPlease.â
He starts thrusting up into you.
You cry out, spine arching, hands flying to his shoulders to hold on as he fucks you from underneath, sharp and deep. His hips snap up into you, cock pressing into your sweet spot over and over again.
The new angle is obscene. Filthy.
âFuck, Jungkookâ holy shitââ
He smirks up at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. âThatâs it. Take it, baby. Look at youâ so cockdrunk already.â
Your pussy clenches around him, soaked and messy, and the sound of it is downright pornographic. His balls slap against your ass with every brutal thrust, and you canât even think anymore. Just feel.
Your head falls back, hips rocking with his. âW-weâre still best friends, right, Kook?â
His rhythm stutters, hips slamming up too hard, too deep, and his jaw drops slightly like heâs not sure if he actually heard you right. His pupils are blown, face flushed, and he stares at you like you just kicked the last brain cell out of his skull.
âWhat the fuck,â he pants. âYou canât say that. Not when Iâmâ fuckâ inside you.â
You whimper, walls clenching around him like your bodyâs reacting to how wrecked he sounds.
âThatâs so fucked up,â he mutters, almost to himself. âSay it again and I might actually come on the spot.â
You huff out a weak laugh at that, hands tangling in his hair, and he groans, fucking you harder, deeper â like he needs to wipe the thought of friendship off your brain with every snap of his hips.
âY-Yeah,â you gasp. âSo close, fuckâ donât stopââ
He doesnât. One hand slips between your bodies, fingers rubbing tight, fast circles over your clit while he pounds into you. You sob his name, hips stuttering, body locking up.
âCome on,â he grits out. âWanna feel you squeeze me.â
Thatâs all it takes.
You break with a cry, body clamping down around him as your orgasm hits like a fucking freight train. Your pussy pulses around his cock, milking him, soaking him, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.
He slows just a little â just enough to let you ride it out â but he doesnât pull out. Heâs still hard inside you, jaw tight, eyes blown wide.
You collapse forward, panting into his neck, spent.
His hands slide down your spine, warm and possessive. âYou good?â
You nod, still breathless. âYeah. Jesus.â
"Good." He swiftly lifts you off him just enough to slip out, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But he doesnât give you time to think.
He shifts, guiding you onto your back, his body following yours down to the couch. His hands frame your face as he settles between your legs, and when he presses back into you â thick and hard.
His eyes roam over you like heâs never seen anything more obscene or more beautiful. Your lips are swollen, parted in a messy moan. Thereâs a faint smudge of mascara under one eye from when youâd cried out his name, and your skinâs glowing â sweaty, flushed, wrecked.
âYouâre so pretty like this,â he says, voice gone rough. âAll fucked out for me.â
You pull him down into a kiss before you can think. Itâs open-mouthed, greedy, teeth clashing a little. His hips start to move again, slow at first â long, deep thrusts that make your breath catch every time he bottoms out.
You wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging into his back to pull him deeper. His chest brushes yours, sticky skin against sticky skin, and your nails rake down his back.
He gasps into your mouth. âFuckââ
âMore,â you breathe, nails dragging again, leaving angry red lines down the muscle of his back. âPlease.â
His hips snap harder, pace picking up again. He braces one hand beside your head and the other slides up your thigh, gripping tight enough to bruise. Your body rocks with every thrust, his cock slamming into you, the slap of his hips against yours louder now.
âYou feel that?â he grits out, forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping down his temple. âHow tight you are around me? Fuckâ Iâm so deep, baby, youâre taking me so fucking good.â
You moan loud at his words, head falling back against the cushions.
He kisses down your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast â open-mouthed, wet kisses that make your skin burn. Then heâs back at your mouth, kissing you like itâs the only way he knows how to breathe.
He watches you with the kind of hunger that makes your stomach flip, watching how your brows pinch, how your mouth trembles, how you twitch around him with every stroke like youâre on the edge all over again.
And fuck, you are.
âTouch me,â you gasp, voice raw. âKook, pleaseââ
His fingers snake down your stomach, rubbing tight, perfect circles against your clit, synced with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cry out, thighs shaking around his waist, and he just watches â eyes dark and wild, like he canât believe what heâs doing to you.
You clench hard around him, and he curses, slamming into you deeper, grinding at the end of each stroke.
âGonna come again?â he pants. âWanna come on my cock like that, baby? Let me feel you soak me?â
Youâre nodding before he finishes, tears prickling in your eyes from how fucking intense it is. âYesâ yes, fuck, donât stopââ
He kisses you as you fall apart â moaning into your mouth, swallowing every sound. You come again, whole body seizing around him. Your nails dig in, and he hisses at the pain, thrusting through it, fucking you right through the high.
When it ebbs, your body goes limp under him, chest heaving, lips swollen, slick dripping between your thighs.
Jungkook fucks into you again â slow, deep, like heâs trying to memorise the feel of you pulsing around him. His breath stutters, muscles drawn tight, every thrust rougher than the last.
âIâm not gonna last,â he pants, voice wrecked.
You bring your hands up to his hair, lightly tugging at his locks as you whisper, âWanna feel you.â
He chokes on a moan, slamming into you one final time as he comes hard, cock twitching deep inside as he fills the condom.
His arms shake, muscles locked tight, and his face is buried in your neck as he rides it out, breath ragged, skin flushed and burning. You feel every pulse of it, every tremble in his frame, and all you can do is hold him there â legs wrapped tight around his waist, arms tangled around his shoulders, your nails still leaving stinging trails across his skin.
He presses kisses against your neck and jaw, eventually trailing up to your lips before pulling back to just look at you.
"Iâ you're perfect."
You smile, a familiar warmth enveloping your cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, you can stop with the flattery."
But he doesnât smile back right away. He just watches you, quiet. Like heâs still catching up to the weight of what just happened. Whatâs still happening.
His hand drifts to your waist, thumb brushing lazily over your damp skin. âLet me run you a bath.â
You blink. âA bath?â
He nods, lips brushing your temple. âYeah. Youâre shaky. And I kinda wrecked you.â
You snort, catching the smugness in his voice. âWhat happened to, âShit, baby, if you donât stop Iâm gonna come down your throatâ?â
He groans, laughing. âOkay, first of allâ rude. Second, I donât sound like that.â
âMm, you definitely do.â
He pinches your side lightly. âKeep talking, Iâll re-enact it right now.â
You shut up. But youâre smiling.
He stands a moment later, disappearing into the bathroom. You hear the water running, the soft clatter of bottles, his voice humming something low and familiar.
When he comes back, he tosses you a towel and holds out a hand, that same easy smile on his face. The one youâve known forever. The one that makes everything feel⊠normal.
Even now.
You lace your fingers with his, let him pull you up.
Your legs are jelly. His hand doesnât let go.
And as you follow him into the bathroom, skin still marked by his touch, lips still swollen from his kiss, a quiet thought flickers at the edge of your mind.
You guys were still best friends.
Right?
â read part two here
taglist | click here to join: @thegreatdepressionme @golden-loona @kissyfacekoo @cookysstuff @whoa-jo @minghaosimp
#bts#bts fanfic#jeon jungkook#bts jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jungkook x oc#bts x oc#jungkook x you#bts x you#jungkook x y/n#bts x y/n#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#jungkook drabble#jungkook oneshot#jungkook scenarios#bts imagine#bts oneshot#bts drabble#bts scenarios#bts ff
4K notes
·
View notes