#sure this film is way too slow

[fictionadventurer]

Roman Holiday is almost too lovely to really exist. They just happened to cast two of the most beautiful people to ever exist as the leads of one of the classiest romances ever filmed. It's staggering. How they both have the same classical yet just slightly odd beauty. Both have such classy, restrained bearings. Perfection in film. You could argue that Joe Bradley should have been a Cary Grant role--Peck seems a bit too wholesome to be a scheming, self-serving journalist, while Grant would have had the right trickster vibe--but even that slightly odd fit works in the movie's favor. You can believe in the strength of the very short romance because you feel Anne can trust Joe. His scheming is just a veneer over a thoroughly decent guy. And Grant would never in a million years have been able to pull off that press conference scene the way Peck does. Peck is the embodiment of grace and dignity and restraint, and Hepburn is too, and the result is incandescent. Almost too good to exist in this flawed world.

[satowooo]

HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 3

mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.

But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.

contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna

warning: cursing

links: < part 1 > < part 2 >

***

You don't remember anything that happened last night.

Waking up with a throbbing head and no memories of what occurred when you were drunk was not something you were happy about. You were still dressed in your last night's clothes, your heels discarded on the floor, a blanket being over your body the whole time you were sleeping. You didn't even know how you still got home or how you even ended up on the living room couch, assuming that maybe Nanami took care of you because of the text he sent last night.

2:17 PM

Nanami: I hope you slept comfortably. Drink some water when you wake up.

You smiled at his message. Nanami is surely the gentleman out of everyone in the band, he really never forgets to take care of everyone.

So when Monday comes by, you immediately look for Nanami to thank him personally. It was during lunch period when you caught sight of the person you've been wanting to see, and without further ado, you ran after him as you called out his name.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna was just a few steps behind when he found you talking to Nanami. And the words that escaped your mouth sent his blood levels high.

“Nanami! I wanted to say thank you for taking care of me last Friday night!”

“Friday night?”

“Yeah? I was really drunk, but I do remember someone taking me home. And you texted me that morning too, so I concluded it was you. Anyways, thank you so much–”

That's all Sukuna needed to hear as he walked right past the two of you, his eyes shooting daggers at everyone who walked in his way.

What he witnessed somehow left a bitter taste in his mouth. Like there's a poison corrupting his veins, eager to suffer him to death as he clenches his hand in a fist to restrain himself.

All Sukuna could do was walk away.

He couldn't accept how you dare to think that another man took care of you and drove you home. He couldn't believe how you're thanking another man right away, instead of clarifying who did what first, and he's just really going to hate you more for this.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Nanami asked you with an evident confused look on his face. After rambling about how you appreciated his act of concern towards you last Friday, you finally focused on him and saw how he looked clueless about the situation.

“You… took me home, didn't you? Because… I was really drunk…”

“Oh.” He nodded, now realising what you said. “It wasn't me, though.’

•

You were entirely confused by the situation now. Your feelings had tangled up in your mind and you don't know what to believe anymore when you saw Sukuna walking past you in the hallways.

The surroundings seem to quiet down as you focus your eyes on him. His figure, his stare, his inevitably handsome face. It's all coming back to you again. The beat of your heart, like a slow motion film everytime he walks by, and you feel like you're a teenager for these feelings.

You were about to open your mouth to talk to him, when he brushed you off so easily as he spared you no glance, walking right past your shoulder. Mouth agape, words left unspoken, mind wandering elsewhere, your cheeks blushed in embarrassment.

If he's the one who took you home after the party, then why is he not taking any credit for it?

Did he do it out of pity or something? Did he just feel bad to leave you alone in there?

You knew he didn't have any feelings for you, so maybe it is the latter. And after that, he doesn't care anymore where you thank him anymore, because that's just how he is.

Sighing, you clutched your bag in your hand and thought of another time to thank him still.

On the other side, Sukuna is mad mad. He doesn't even know why. He can't even explain it himself because he feels like it's nonsense.

It's like a feeling of wanting to throw a tantrum for all his bottled up feelings of anger at you, but if he did do such a thing, he'll come out whiny. Plus, only Yuji does that.

He just hates it. Everytime he looks at you, that anger starts becoming intense in some type of way. His hatred makes him want to lock you in his arms, and just… and just…

Why is he thinking about this anyway?

He hates you for your annoyance. For your persistence. For always smiling at everyone. For always making his day feel incomplete if you're not there.

He hates you even more for thanking Nanami for something he had done. And he wants to knock some senses in you at some point.

He hates how you've changed. How you're slowly fading away from him.

He hates how he's maybe starting to feel different about you now.

•

“You might pierce a hole in her head if you keep staring like that…” Yuji whispered close to Sukuna’s ear. Sukuna flinched, but immediately hit Yuji with his elbow, leaving the latter hissing in pain.

The football field was yet again full of people. Girls would walk over and say hi to Sukuna and Yuji to where they sat at the benches, and only Yuji would have the heart to flash them his cheeky smile. While Sukuna watches you who had been sitting a few seats far away, your back facing them, focused on whatever conversation you have with your friend.

“Tell me,” Yuji continues. “Are you starting to like her?”

Sukuna immediately turned his head to him with a glare. He scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest, “That's total nonsense, Yuji.”

Yuji shrugged as he stared at you as well. “Not to me… You look… troubled…”

“That… has nothing to do with that fool…”

Yuji laughs at his brother, shaking his head at his denial. “Whatever you say.”

•

This is it. This is the right time to finally talk to Sukuna.

You breathed heavily as you wiped your sweaty palms on your clothes. Your heart was thumping loudly on your chest as you stood right before the band's practice room door.

You've been looking for Sukuna the whole day and ended up asking Yuji where he was, and this is why you ended up here. The door seems to dread a dark presence before it, looming an ominous aura within, or maybe it was just you over exaggerating things.

You nervously twist the door, and there you see Sukuna on his usual seat, legs spread apart, his face resting on his palms as he had his eyes closed. You almost backed away after realising that he was sleeping, but stopped when he opened his eyes.

“O-oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you were asleep!” You panicked, bowing at him repeatedly for your mistake. “I'll leave–”

“Do you need anything?” His deep voice felt like thunder as it rang in your ears.

You purse your lips, feeling the heat rush to your face. You reluctantly nodded your head as you took a step inside the room, closing the door behind you.

“About last Friday…”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow as he stood up, taking a step forward as he placed his hands on his pocket. “What about it?”

“Y-yeah uhm… Thank you for… f-for…” You started stuttering, your hands shaking on your sides. Sukuna's eyes landed on them, which startled you to clasped your hands together instead to keep them still, but it didn't really help.

“Say it.” He demanded, and it made you even more nervous because he was staring at you too intently.

“L-last Friday night… I want to thank you for…” You take a breath to calm yourself down. “N-nanami said… you took me h-home?”

“Are you asking me if I did?”

You pinched your shaking hands, not expecting his question. “Y-yes? Did you…?”

“Tsk.” He took a step closer, reaching out to grab your shaky hands with one hand. “What's gotten into the sunshine brat I know, hmm?” He asks, staring at your shaky hands between his. “Nervous?”

“T-that’s not the question, Sukuna.”

“Alright then,” he let go of you, bringing his hands back to his pocket. “I did. Happy?”

You closed your eyes at his answer, your breathing becoming uneven as you opened them again. Sweat is starting to form on your neck, “Why?”

It was the question that had been running in your head for the whole time since Nanami told you that it was Sukuna. And you needed answers. At this instant.

“You were drunk,” Sukuna answered straightforwardly. “Did you want me to leave you alone?”

“N-no! B-but–”

“Don't put too much ideas in your head.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

The world seems to start crashing down, and that's all the answers you need.

What were you expecting anyway? That magically, Sukuna started to care for you just because he had the heart to act like a person towards you? That maybe, he started to realise that his feelings for you were never hatred but it turned into something deep?

No, that's impossible. Liking you the way you like him was never in Sukuna's vocabulary.

So what now?

“Right!” You nodded your head with a smile. “I wasn't thinking of anything! I really just wanted to thank you, that's all!”

Sukuna searched your eyes, trying to read you. But you quickly feigned your disappointment as you grinned at him.

“I just needed to confirm that. Thank you, Sukuna! I should get going now. I won't bother you anymore.” You waved him goodbye as you ran out of the room, and when he was finally out of sight, tears started rolling down your face.

Sukuna, on the other hand, just stared off into space from where you left.

He was… undoubtedly, regretting his words.

***

Is the update too short? lol, ill make it up to you guys once im done with schoolworks!! i promisee 😭 part 4 will be up in idk when ☺️

[anantaru]

DAY 9 — THREESOME

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — neuvillette & wriothesley (together)

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, threesome, tit sucking, lots of teasing, i think their dynamic works so well for this, they're a little jealous and want you to themselves, some bickering from wriothesley's side but neuvillette really doesn't give a damn

taking on a lustful shape over your spread out body, wriothesley watches you eagerly when you wince out the first time neuvillette outlines your walls with his large cock, a breathless and flirtatious snicker resounding like deep, impactful strikes from the duke's throat— he cannot fathom that this was happening right now, and neither could you, but here you were being pleasured by two strong, threatening men touching your skin and awakening an emotion like fiery steel on your flesh and spirit.

"you do realize, dear iudex." wriothesley suddenly speaks out, a masculine voice entering your system as he stops in midst his slurred sentencing, secretly wanting to be the one who's rushing his shaft into you instead because— you can feel it then, immediately notice that the man fully needed you on his own, carnally, couldn't help himself but desire you, lasciviously.

"—that there should always be enough preparation before doing that." he doesn't even look at the man while overflowing with cocky attitude, instead leaning his head to your chest while you desperately gripped and tightened your legs around neuvillette's waist to somehow manage to take his blows the right way, but you're almost holding him hostage this way, fuck and it only serves to make him dizzy.

following your doings, a ravaging whine ripples through your body as the piercing thrusts on your dripping core never stop as neuvillette rides out everything with his swelling erection, barely being able to restrain himself until he was allowed to stick up your pussy with copious amounts of white ropes of creamy cum splattering all over your walls— and of course, his thrusts are slow, precise, the dragging of a thick shaft touching your silken insides for what felt like a sweet, blissful eternity.

neuvillette hums back at the duke, the noise forming an absent response on its own before he decides to follow up the silence departing from his throat, "you do not need to lecture me about this." he drawls back before immediately turning his attention back to you, controlling the buck of his hips but adding enough strength that your ass jiggles from the contact, "but i do appreciate it." and still, considerably he pulls out his cock, yet despite leaving the tip in, the fat head separating your slit effortlessly that it felt like he never really pulled all those inches out of you in the first place.

"just making sure, y'know." wriothesley notices a little film of annoyance on neuvillette's facial expression and mentally applauds himself, a slow, cocky grin touching up his lips— whilst sloppy kisses were now located on your chest as he mouths wet spots on your exposed breasts.

you cannot help yourself and have to shoot your eyes down at him to see for yourself, simply feeling him suckle on your mounds wasn't enough anymore— and it's comfortable, soul crushing when his dark hair tickles your wet cheeks as he continues with his lovely intrigues, serving you dutifully to make you tremble underneath his large body menacing on top, placing soused, warm kisses on your breasts before targeting your nipples next, using your tit as he pleases with his tongue rolling out expertly, dragging the flat of his wet muscle around your sensitivity before noticing a shudder on your chest.

his pink muscle was never faltering, not once, because he likes that you're unraveling way too fast, which, granted, wasn't a surprise to the duke because bare in mind, he knows what you need— specifically how you wanted your tits to be played with before he was grabbing the flesh of your mounds and putting one in his sweltering mouth, every lick and suck biting your core and rising the temperature on your sex.

at the present time, the persistent pleasure both of them fucked into you reaches your entire frame— for once, on your chest chasing the friction of wriothesley's rough tongue licking over the warmth, weighty tears magnifying around your eyes as your blurred psyche loses all rational thinking skills while your pussy was suddenly being spread apart again.

in the blink of an eye, neuvillette lands a harsh smack on your aching sex, following the sticky trail of his shaft being imbedded by your translucent arousal and throbbing between the slickness of your walls constricting around him all too well, and your moans— like a honeyed melody out of a perfect symphony, pillowing a scarlet red on his bristling cheeks.

the iudex doesn't need anyone to tell him how it's done— because behind wriothesley's back, there have been plenty encounters before where it had been just the two of you, encircled around each other, deep sighs entering the room as he rounds his heavy arms on your body, murmuring sweet nothing into your ears, his voice lowered and allied with gravel alike, rasping at a clear spot on your brain that was in control of your lascivious drive when you welcome his smoldering touch so helplessly it's almost embarrassing in hindsight.

while now, he sadly cannot have it the way he'd ultimately prefer it to be but that doesn't mean he wasn't enjoying the mess evolving in front of his ocean eyes picking up each of your shivers, storing them into the back of his brain so he could visualize it whenever he might require it.

what neuvillette wouldn't admit to anybody was that he does like seeing you being played with while it's him who has you entered, who has his cock locked deep inside your sweet, dripping cunt. besides, wriothesley does a good job, he has to admit, how you're whining and begging to feel release, or bliss— clenching your arms around the duke's head while he was lapping his tongue around your breast feverently, one hand sneakily finding the other to touch the hot skin while drool fills his mouth at your lewd noises, selfishly sucking more.

it's not all too bad, right? because neuvillette likes what he sees, and at least he can watch at your adorable face changing expressions and listen to your velvety moans rush across the humid embrace of the room, bumbling off the walls and vibrating around his large cock rocking forward, letting his girth roll itself against your wet warmth that he fucks his way into your little entrance with enough motivation that will keep him satiated for days— and at last, he needs to relish in it again, meaning the sounds, those final tunes of you, or the ones of raw skin on skin rippling around you, ultimately making him go faster and faster, better and finer the louder they would get.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Best friend steve showing you how to finger yourself but it’s just so goofy and unserious but like soooo hot

18+

(characters are high but all consensual.)

Honestly, if anyone had had to ask, you weren’t sure how you would have explained it. How it started, whose idea it was, how the topic of conversation even came up.

But there had been a joint rolled, some of Eddie’s special strain and then you were a few puffs into a second shared with Steve before your shorts were lost at the bottom of his bed.

You were both giggly about it, eyes half lidded and lazy but that all changed when you’d stripped, the boy’s eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he looked at all the skin on your bare legs.

Your t-shirt covered you for the most part, a ratty old band shirt that had a hole in the collar and it hung just past your underwear, a pair of stupid pink things with a bow on the front.

Less than sexy. This wasn’t sexy.

It was— it was?

“Like this?” You asked, a little breathless, a little embarrassed, but there was laughter in your throat and you weren’t sure what you were even asking because Steve couldn’t even see what you were doing. “Fuck, this is stupid.”

You were against his pillows, the film forgotten in the background, the bowl of popcorn and gummy worms spilled on the floor. Steve was still at the bottom of the bed, sprawled out on his side as he watched you, the dopey smile on his face turning slack because you had your knees hiked up and your heels pressed to his sheets. Your hand was down the front of your underwear, clumsy fingers searching for something you’d told him didn’t really work for you.

You don’t know why you’d told him that.

Steve adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed to the mattress as if he was supposed to hide the fact he was turned on. He wasn’t really sure if you’d be more offended if he wasn’t. He didn’t know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked:

“You’re such a dumbass. Are you even touching your clit?”

His words buzzed through you, a simple question but bordering on the dirty talk you heard on the late night channels that you always kept at a low volume. You squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. He was watching your hand move, fingers swiping through your folds under the soft cotton and you felt yourself get a little wetter.

You wondered if he could see, if you’d have a little damp patch between your spread legs.

“I think so?” you claimed. “I don’t— it’s just, it’s too slippy to feel anything properly. They didn’t teach us this is sex ed, you know.”

Steve inhaled sharply, breath stuck in his throat like a chokehold. You watched his cheeks burn, a pretty pink glow across the high points of them and you wondered if he’d move closer, if you asked. His hand was lying near your ankle, fingers twitching.

“No, I know— shit, uh—“ Steve swallowed audibly, shifting again, hips moving uncomfortably and you wondered if he was hard, if he was turned on too. “Just— move in circles, be a little softer, Christ, babe. You’ll… you’ll feel it.”

So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your spread folds, moving a little higher until you jumped, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your leg jerk.

You laughed, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, bone lazy and searching for another type of high. You crinkled your nose, lashes fluttering as you touched that spot again and again. Slow circles, soft and timid.

“Oh,” you murmured, mouth parting.

You were still watching the boy.

Steve pressed his lips together, watching you back, gaze flickering from your hand underneath the pink cotton to your face, the pretty way your eyes went hooded and dark.

“Yeah? Feel good?”

You nodded, grinning at Steve’s words, head feeling dizzy at the sensation that was building, a hook in your stomach that was pulling tighter and tighter. A laugh bubbled from you, elated, high. “Yeah, s’feels good.”

You thought you heard Steve let out a soft noise, a moan, maybe. He swore, head falling slightly, his forehead bumping the bed before he went back to staring.

“Will I come?” You asked, still smiling, still feeling buzzy. “Like this? If I keep doing this?”

You were squirming again, chasing your fingers and Steve was watching open mouthed. He’d moved, finally, the rock hard evidence of your show evident in his jeans. Steve was too far gone to try and hide it now, the length of him aching and when he dragged the heel of his palm over himself, you keened, eyes tracking the movements.

“Yeah, fuck— yeah, just keep doing what feels good, okay?” Steve voice was hoarse, wrecked sounding, pretty sounding. “You’re doing real good, babe.”

The phrase made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers boring down a little harder now, confidence growing and the laughter leaving your throat as Steve kept rubbing over his cock, looking at you like were made of gold.

“Holy shit, that’s really fuckin’ hot,” he croaked, “you gonna come, yeah?”

You nodded, head tipped back into the pillows, bones nothing but liquid heat now as your fingers slid messily over your clit, your underwear stretched out over the back of your hand. You wondered if Steve could see anything, if the elastic in the stupid, pink cotton had given away enough for him to see the wet folds of your pussy, if he could see the way you were spread out and desperate.

You wanted him to keep talking. You just didn’t know how to ask.

You keened, back arching, fingers fumbling and face scrunching up in frustration. Your foot slipped, nudging at Steve’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around it as he held you, keeping you grounded. His thumb ran over the bone there, delicate and making you shiver.

“There you go,” he murmured and he laughed when you did, disbelieving and drunk sounding. “That’s it, huh? Fuck, you’re so good, so good. I can’t believe you’re gonna let me watch you come.”

[hairmetal666]

Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.

And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.

They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--

Steve Harrington is his bed.

They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--

They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.

They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.

Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.

Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.

Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.

They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.

After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.

He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--

"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.

"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.

Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.

Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or

It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--

Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.

Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.

He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."

Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."

They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.

There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.

"Stop," he whispers to Steve.

Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.

"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."

"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"

"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."

"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."

"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.

"Then we'll deal with it together."

"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."

--

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.

A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.

Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.

They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.

"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.

"Hey yourself."

"It's Bi Visibility day."

"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going

"I want to come out."

He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"

Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.

"How do you want to do it?"

He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.

They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.

Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.

The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.

Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.

He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"

"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.

"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"

Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

[foranidalas]

you and jj liked to fuck to horror movies.

*.⊹˚𝜗୧ ‧₊˚

the details on how it all started were fuzzy. you didn’t even like horror— could barely stomach all the jumpscares, the blood, the gore. the boy would force you to watch the films anyway (they were all he had available, all he bothered to buy anyway), loving how you would curl up next to him shakily, a firm hand on his bicep as you pressed yourself impossibly close to his side. he liked to whisper in your ear how he’d protect you, or sometimes trash you for jumping at the tamest of scares.

sometimes, when you got a little too freaked out, he’d take your face in one hand, squishing the fat of your cheeks unflatteringly as he slid his tongue into your mouth, sloppily wrapping the muscle around your own and angling to shove it deeper into your mouth. he was almost as gross as some of his movies about it, but it calmed you down right away.

one night you’d eased yourself sideways onto his lap, face hiding pathetically in the crease of his neck as you tried to block out the screen from your line of vision. jj, seemingly too interested in what was happening onscreen, surmised the best solution at that moment was to slowly reach his hand down your panties and rub slow, comforting circles onto your clit.

“jay?”

“shh, just focus on me, sweetcheeks.”

you couldn’t understand exactly how that was possible, given that every sound emitting from the tv had you near shrieking. you opened your mouth to tell him he was being ridiculous, but he caught on before you could manage— bringing his lips to your neck as he dipped his fingers into you simultaneously. you stifled a moan, head still buried in the crook of his neck.

“good?” he asked softly, eyes still glued to the screen, fingers still working their way inside of you. you managed a nod, lifting your head to look at him.

against your will, you caught sight of the movie in your peripheral, just as the movie threw another lousy jumpscare on screen. your hand flies to your mouth to conceal your scream, but jj angles his fingers against that spot in your walls at the same time, and your eyes widen as you let out a pornographic moan instead— adrenaline and fear mixing deliciously with the pleasure delivered by jj and his hands.

he stops for a second, looking down at you with his brows furrowed, the way he normally does when the wheels in his brain turn as he formulates a plan. you feel him shift under you, his hard-on now evident against the curve of your ass.

he whispers to you, “keep your eyes on the movie,”— so low you can barely hear it, but the assertiveness of it sends shivers down your spine so severe you don’t even question what was asked of you.

his hands move faster now, teeth gritted as he now watches you and your fear-filled eyes on the television. he waits, knowing another scare is soon to come up, before pressing his thumb to your clit as he pumps two fingers into your now sopping wet cunt, groaning when he feels you clench around him when you let out a scream-moan— adrenaline rushing through your veins, the foreign feeling so intense it brings you to orgasm almost immediately. jj watches you, mouth agape as he slows his movements, panting heavily as you stare at each other wordlessly. he dips to press a sloppy, wet hot kiss to your mouth before you feel him move inside you again, this time faster— desperate to get you to cum like that again.

now, every time movie night rolls around, he makes sure your back is pressed to his chest, a protective hand held at the back of your neck, ensuring your eyes stay glued on the tv, as he fucks up into you for the third time that night.

[coeurify]

ok but what do you think about making a sex tape with ellie 🧍‍♀️

an: this has been reworked over and over since this request came in in march… so enjoy! its very lovey dovey and sm plot sorry :3

warnings: 18+. filming. jackson!ellie. fingering and oral!r receiving. mostly lovey but some teasing and rough language :3 ellie is obsessed and lovesick and so is reader soooo they make a sex tape. unedited gimme time.

When Ellie first brought up the idea, you had recoiled into her old beat up couch, scoffing as she waved the old camcorder around, a shiteating grin on her face.

“I doubt that thing even works El,” you shrugged your shoulders under the blanket you had stolen off her bed. It wasn't unusual for you to hole up in her small homey garage while she was on patrol.. but what *was* odd was her little.. Souvenir from this particular trip.

“C’mon babe,” Ellie pouted, “Let me try on you..” she wiggled the little camcorder, slipping her hand into the attached grip, flipping open the small screen. Despite your complaints that there was no way it worked, Ellie just could never be wrong. Of course she knew you would fight back, and so she had made sure she fished some batteries too. Of course they came from Maria, the cost three days of stable duty.. But it was worth it for the immune woman, who ducked her nose down and watched the screen flicker to a slow start.

The quality was no better than that of what you could expect from a decades old camera, the film grainy and muffled, each corner covered by symbols Ellie didn’t really understand. But it was no roadblock in the trek of her wants. She smiled when your hands immediately came to slap over your face, voice serious behind your palms as you spoke, “put that down.”

Eventually however, you got a little used to Ellie’s newest fixation. The little hums she made were always a dead give away that she was filming you. During a video game tournament against Dina and Jesse, squished so closely to the two on the floor of the garage that you literally bruised the taller man during a particularly aggressive round of a fighting game. When you were trying your best to compete against your girlfriend’s art skills, tongue poking out the corner of your lips as you worked on a very detailed stick figure that dawned pointed down eyebrows, a large frown and red pencil hair. Even just when you were organizing Ellie’s closet for her, sorting through the tens of sweatshirts with a judging pout on your lips at the mess.

Each time you heard the distinctive sound of El’s attempt at holding back laughs, a small little choked up ‘hmm’ sound. You usually turned your head, quick to flip off your girlfriend-turned-filmmaker. But by the fifth time of catching her smiling behind the little object, you just let her. Whenever you could see her a little less tense, you took it.

Even if that meant starring in all of her little five second shitty clips. Her excuse always, “Just something to look at when I miss you.”

In some ways it made you feel weak legged, slightly lovesick by the thought of Ellie loving you so dearly she just had to steal little memories of you. Every small grin that broke onto freckled cheeks wherever she filmed coaxed you into the haze built up by her new hobby. You became so covered in adoration soon that you resorted to tiny only half mad eye roll when the click of the camera sounded.

Small clips turned into Ellie’s free hand wrapping around your bare waist as you looked in the mirror of her bathroom, the camcorder pressed near your cheek, the auburnette on the other side. You wiped the condensation from the glass, the room still slightly foggy from your shower. “You are not filming me out of the shower,” you huffed. Ellie didn’t answer, the familiar sounding hum stopped only when she pressed a kiss to the base of your neck, lips pulling up into a smile against the skin. “Won’t point too low..” she promised. “You just look so pretty..”

That time, the camera had been closed and discarded on a random bedside table as the two of you stumbled across her floor, giggling as Ellie cursed, stubbing her toe on the corner of the bed she tried to press you down into.

It continued like that, the limits of what you allowed Ellie to film seemed to blur further with every day.. Every curl of her fingers around the object that had become so central to this small haven of her home. Your own neck hot for reasons very different from embarrassment each time the filming light blinked a little too long. The line that you and Ellie had drawn in the sand of your mind was looking a lot less precise with every new memory saved into the device.

Even further along into the passing weeks, you had settled comfortably into yet another night spent at Ellie’s. Your own bedroom had remained untouched for nearly a week this time, bed spread likely just as cold as the air outside. But the garage was warm. The air inside thick as you pressed two fingers against your lips to keep a laugh from spilling out. Glasses of half empty wine, stolen from Tommy and Maria’s cupboard, balanced on the table that sat directly in front of the couch you were cuddled into.

The feeling of wine drunkenness always made you giggly, but your girlfriend parading around her small living space with her camcorder, well, that made you even more prone to bursts of laughs. She had gone from filming and rambling on about what wine you were drinking to zooming into your face, chuckling with breath that smelt like red wine. “See how pretty?” Ellie gaped to no one, stepping closer to you on the couch. The whole garage was painted a light orange from the setting sun outside, but it didn’t stop Ellie.

“El, you’re being a dork,” you chide, shaking your head as more compliments spilt from her. She shoos off the bitten remark with a sound that boarders on a coo, leaning over you as the lens of the camcorder sat close enough to pick up the smaller details of your face the grainy film usually could not.

“I’m just showin’ how perfect you are..” Ellie explains, a softer tone edging into her lungs as she presses her thumb to your cheek, drawing a new heat under the digit. “Perfect cheeks…” her finger traces over your jawline next, and then your chin. Each new landmark of your face that Ellie doted on swept closer and closer to your soft lips. You were no idiot, you saw how the green of her eyes fell to the fat, watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and then out again. You made no move to stop what came next.

That next move was your girlfriend’s finger following like a moth to a flame to the one spot that teetered on that blurry line again, thumb pressing softly around the curve of your lips.

“Perfect lips,” Ellie continued, eyes flicking back and forth from the camera screen to you. Soon the pad of her finger is right against your bottom lip, and the room seems to slow.

The both of you hold bated breaths as you mull over your options. But this mulling is no longer than a few seconds, feeling overwriting the more logical side of your brain with a gushy type of tightness in your chest.

Your lips part, eyes meeting the lense as you suck the tip of Ellie’s thumb into your mouth. Lips wrap around the soft skin, salty and cold, and Ellie has little to say other than a slow and breathy, “Fuck..”

Your tongue peaks out just for a moment, lavishing over the wet skin, but Ellie is quick to pull away, leaving your shining lips parted in confusion. The camera falls to her side as her free fingers wrap around your wrist. Just like last time, the little red light twists away from your face. Ellie’s toes step backwards from that oh so mysterious line you two made.

“You know what you do to me, hm?” Ellie questioned as she hauled you up by your arm, a sharp giggle following as she stomped to the bed. The camera is discarded on the table near her pillows as you are thrown back on it.

“No,” you tease, your next giggle cut off by a thump noise that was Ellie pushing you back against grey sheets, you make a sound that almost sounds like “oof” as you try to readjust. Ellie clambers on top of your squirming frame as another sputtered laugh escapes at the messy, and not very seductive, way you two found contact against the creaking mattress.

“Tell me,” you prompt, meeting Ellie’s narrowed green eyes. “Why should I? You’re laughin’ at me.”

Your eyes roll as Ellie’s lips fall into a pout that you want to kiss clean off. “Stop being a baby,” you mutter before letting your impulse win, your hands cupping the freckles cheeks of your girlfriend and pulling her down for a soft kiss. Her pouted lips quickly shape to your own, and you sigh in approval as the hand not holding herself up traces down to your waist.

“I’m not a baby,” your girlfriend complains when your lips part from each other, and you nearly pinch her cheeks from just how lovely you find the whiny drawl in her voice, instead you just shrug, biting back another half bubbled up laugh, “mhm, prove it.”

Ellie does just that. One tug on your hips has you flatter against the bed, one poke at your side has a squeal leaving your mouth. You see how Ellie’s lips quirk up, but before you can admire the sight, she kisses you again.

“So,” Ellie punctuates the word with a kiss, the sort that makes a loud and annoying smacking noise, before trailing her lips to your cheek. “Fuckin” Ellie’s lips find home on your jawline next, and act that has a simmering heat grow between your legs. “Perfect.” Ellie finishes the repeat of what her fingers had done earlier by nudging your head back, lips pressing softer kisses to the flesh of your neck.

Your eyes flicked to the side table, pupils finding the little camcorder as the auburn haired girl bit at your neck, your attention pulled away as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “El,” you breathe out, a hand finding her messy hair, nails scraping at her scalp as she bit harsher at the column of your throat. You aren’t sure why her name had been your first thought to say after seeing the camcorder, swallowing as your fingers itched to reach toward the side table.

“Hm? Tell me,” Ellie taunts, words muffled as her next target becomes your collarbone. Your own words biting at you again as your eyebrows furrowed together, watching as your girlfriend’s fingertips find the edge of your shirt, pushing it up as your hand falls from her hair to help take it off.

You pull her back for another kiss before you can even think to answer her question, one you weren’t even sure you could explain. Ellie’s needy fingers come into contact with the fat of your tits, tweaking at the perked nipples, nails pressing in just a little too hard, earning a mewl directly against the spit slick kiss. As Ellie kissed you, you tried your best to focus on the feeling, and not how you were acutely aware of the camera beside you.

Her tongue swiped at your bottom lip, warm against your parting lips as she searched to deepen the kiss, messy sounds of half breaths and kissing all sounded through the small area, your hips rolling up as her knee slotted itself between your trembling thighs.

You can’t help but wonder what this may look like on camera, and as Ellie pulls back, you notice the green of her eyes had dimmed, pupils blown as the pretty eyelashes fanned lightly. The freckles splattered over the apples of her cheeks were particularly prominent tonight, and you suspected it had something to do with the blood that rushed there, rosy and all around causing that same lovesick feeling to creep up your weakened bones.

You wonder if she would look as pretty on that grainy screen too.

Before your mind can even form another thought, Ellie is pulling away from your lips, a small whine the response she received. You can’t complain for long as she moves down, wet lips trailing sloppy kisses to your soft stomach, planting the ember of a growing fire in your groin, causing your hand to flex. Your eyes are pulled by an invisible string to the side of you again, the black material of the camcorder your gaze’s target. Ellie grumbles in response, and a small pinch on your hip has you yelping.

“What’re you looking at? Look at me.”

“Ellie,” you try again, lip quivering nervously as she ushers you to lift your hips, tugging off the bottoms you wore. “Fuckkkk,” she drawls, lost in her own little world as a large hand presses your thighs open. “You see that?” she marvels, a finger pressing against the wet spot on your panties. When she presses, you can feel the fabric stick to you, nearing translucent as she teases, your lips hugging the now soaked panties. It has your hips stirring in their spot, the flame in your stomach burning your liquid feeling stomach. “Ellie,” you sigh again.

Finally her gaze looks up, “Yea?” she asks, her voice softening. You can see the flash of confusion, her hand falling from your thigh as she searched for any apprehension. “You ok?”

“I can’t—“ your voice comes out whinier than you would like to admit, harsh against your ears with a feeling of embarrassment. “Can’t say it,” you finish, eyes moving to the camera sitting on the small wooden table beside you for the umpteenth time.

Ellie follows your eyes, and when you look back to her, there’s a flash of surprise in the shade of green you loved so much. It was replaced quickly, her eyelids drooping as her chin tilted up. “Hm. Don’t know what you mean,” she shrugs, fingers going back to teasing your panty line.

Her tone is laced with sarcasm, the teasing tilt to it is a voice you had heard many times before, many times in this exact position. Ellie liked to make you say things, liked to watch you squirm. You were convinced at this point she got off on your embarrassment, and she probably wouldn’t even deny that.

“Gonna have to spell it out for me, babe,” Ellie added, dipping down to place soft kisses at your hip-bone, pink muscle licking over a mark there.

A low and annoyed sound escapes your throat, and your girlfriend chuckles against your flesh, one finger curling around the fabric of your panties, tugging it down a little ungracefully, your shaking thighs to thank for that.

“Barely even touched you yet and you’re shakin,” Ellie teases again, whispering softly, “Such a pretty pussy..” as the sight of your weepy folds meet her eyes. “This all for me, baby? Or somethin’ else on your mind?”

Your eyes squeeze shut again, hoping to rid your mind of the film reel like thoughts of the camera pressed in Ellie’s hand as she did this. They played over and over behind the black of your eyes, and another frustrated sound fills the garage.

“Not gonna answer?” Ellie was quieter now, repositioning herself, parting your thighs even more. A finger ghosted over your dripping cunt, a hum following the action. “Can’t make you feel better if you don’t use your words, y’know?”

The warm air hit your folds as Ellie exposed you more, thighs burning from the stretch, from the tight grip of one of her hands, fingers digging into and squeezing the fatty flesh.

The blanket beneath your bare ass is no comfort as you move around, and Ellie’s nose bumps against the softness of your thigh. So close, so fucking close to giving exactly what you were searching for, so close to your aching center that your resolve cracks lightly, head tilted back and against the pillow.

“The camera,” you croak, your mouth dry as your lips part, refusing to look at the other girl.

“What about the camera? Look at me and tell me what you want.”

The crease between your eyebrows likely was gaining small droplets of sweat just from how hard you were attempting to avoid this entire fucking conversation, but Ellie kept pressing you further, and who were you to deny her?

“Wanna film this,” you eventually admit, head dipping down to meet her darkened eyes.

“Yea baby? Wanna see what a mess I can make you?” Ellie’s words start to blur together, the idea surely muddling any coherent thoughts together in her mind, licking her lips as she awaits your response.

“Fuck— mmph, yes El. Please.*”

Ellie’s lips curl into a smile that’s more wicked than loving, “Red button starts it, you can hold it.” She instructed, and you scramble to reach your arm out, grasping at the little hand strap connected to the camcorder.

“There you go babe,” she nods, “give it a go, let me see what you’ve got.”

Your fingers are shaking so badly it takes a moment for your thumb to hit the button, to see the soft little red light noting the start of the film.

The grainy screen doesn’t pick up on all the freckles adorning Ellie’s face. The ones that made you feel all gooey, that you wanted to kiss until her face was a pretty shade of red. But it did capture her parted lips, the expanse of your thighs, and your shaky grip tilted the camera down as Ellie’s head dipped between your thighs.

Her mouth latched to your achy cunt, tongue licking up the drops of arousal that covered your slit, pearling on the petal like lips that she spreads with her fingers.

Your arms almost immediately gave out.

Clearly, you were not as skilled in the art of film making as Ellie had been, the camera dropping almost completely to your tummy as Ellie sucked at your cunt. Her eyes flicked up, and she unlatched from the saccharine slick that pooled on her tongue.

“You keep that camera steady,” she muttered, thumb rubbing tiny, tight circles on your throbbing clit. “Or I stop, yea?”

You nod quickly, hips grinding into the slow and steady motion of her thumb, wet with your sticky . You would have agreed to anything she demanded of you right now anyway. Too needy, too desperate to feel her lips on you again.

“ ‘M counting on you to make a pretty movie for me.”

The sentence tapers off as she disappears to the space between your thighs again, and you nearly and truly sob as her nose bumps your clit, her tongue poking experimentally against your hole, feeling as it clenches against nothing.

You know your whimpers and quick little puffs of air are being picked up by the camera, but you’re too focused on keeping the lense directly focused on the auburn tendrils of hair, on where her face was covered by your thighs caging her cheeks in, keeping her in the place she most needed to be, drinking down every single single drop you gave her.

“Ellie,” you whine, toes curling when she presses away from your clit, two long fingers coming to part your folds, admiring the sticky sight.

“Shhh,” Ellie coos, eyes glancing up at the camera again, the burning sight of her fern colored gaze through the tiny screen has your stomach clenching even harsher, hands trembling lightly.

The air on your exposed center lasts no longer than a few seconds, Ellie’s head dipping down as the warm, wet feeling of a glob of her spit trails down your clit, finding your pulsing hole. Her tongue swipes it quickly after, suckling gently at the shiny bubbles. The sound that follows, the loud wet squelch of your wetness mixing with her spit is enough to make you want to cover the speaker of the camcorder, fingers gripping tightly at the little contraption. She focuses on licking at your sopping cunt, her head moving slightly, moaning against your folds.

“Oh—nnh—El!” you cry, your chin trembling in tandem with the hand you try desperately to keep still. Your hips rut up, and Ellie’s face moves up with you, an arm detaching from its place on your squishy thigh to instead wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer.

You can feel yourself closer, closer to that delicious peak, Ellie’s nose bumping your clit, tongue working mind numbing ministrations on you.

Then she pulls back.

“Fuckin made for me,” Ellie groans, taking a deep breath as she unlatched from your pussy, her fingers sweeping through your puffy lips. “Was fuckin’ made to let me taste you.” Her eyes flick to the camera, her tone louder than usual— a little less breathy. She wanted the microphone to hear.

You cry pathetically at the loss of her tongue, lip quivering.

“Tell me,” she demands, voice overpowering the slick noises of her now shiny fingers rubbing between your folds, the tips pausing at your pulsing hole, dipping only a little in, teasing. “Tell me this pretty pussy was made for me.”

And then Ellie is reaching forward, letting go of her grip on your hips to grab harshly at the camera, maneuvering it to show your trembling body, her fingers pressing open your lips, giving the camera a pretty close up of your soaked cunt. She croons at the sight, her fingers pressing together to land a short and sharp slap against the swollen lips. “S’pretty.”

“Ellie,” you choke, chest heaving up and down as the embarrassment creeps up, making that coil in your tummy even tighter.

“Tell me,” she says again, smoothly.

Desperate to have her fingers opening you up, to have her filling you and breaking that tightly wrapped tension in your groin, you break.

“I’m yours el. ‘m all yours, was made for you,” your voice is restrained, quiet as you chew at your lips, stirring in your spot as she continues the teasing.

“What else? Tell me more, baby,” she insists, one long finger sinking into you, hissing at the feeling of your cunt molding to her, perfect for her as you clench.

“A—ah!” your voice is a sweet little cry. You grind down into the feeling, searching for more. “It’s yours El,” you babble— louder now, head thrown back. Ellie captured the moment with a quick tilt up of the camera. “M-my pussy s’all yours.”

“Fuck,” Ellie breathes, her own, usually steady camera hand, wavering as you speak. She grants you with another finger as she thrusts harshly into you, a shriek pulled from your open mouth.

“So—s-so fucking perfect,” she grunts, curling her fingers gently, hitting that squishy spot in your walls that has you keening, eyes rolling back. “Love this pussy so much, shit—shit, love you so much.”

“Love you too El,” you blubber, your chin tilting down to stare directly at the camera for a second. That awkwardness, the fear from the early days of when she’d film you completely gone as you moan pathetically, eyes shiny with complete and utter adoration.

She only pistons her fingers into you harder, faster, relishing in how you moan, how your toes curl and your chin wobbles. You’re the prettiest fucking thing she’s ever seen.

The camera points down to where she’s thrusting into you, watching through the screen as you meet her thrusts, your hips moving against the grey sheets, your thighs squeezing her hand in between them as you sob out.

Ellie meets your eyes, stealing your attention from the camera she keeps focused on your squirming frame, pounding her fingers into your cunt. “Cum for me, you can do it baby, go on. Give me a pretty show.”

And you do. Your sweaty back lifts off the bed with a sharp sob as the cord in your tummy snaps, gushing around Ellie’s fingers, pulsing around her as she thrusts shallowly, riding you through it.

Your vision goes black for a second as you heave, hands shaking as you reach out for Ellie, fingers looking to curl around her warm skin.

You don’t even notice the off click of the camera, of how she lets it softly drop to the side as she climbs up your shaky form, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“So pretty,” Ellie hums, “Prettiest movie star ever,” she mumbled, and you pour your lips— getting another soft kiss as she continues to plant tiny loving pecks around your face.

“Never should’ve let you keep that camera,” you whisper gently, smiling right when she does against the corner of your mouth that she pecks at.

“Yea fuckin’ right, we just made the movie of the year babe.”

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Another kind of heating | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Switch!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Switch!Girlfriend!Reader

Summary -> You just want to warm your feet but this leads into a way hotter situation with your boyfriend.

Wordcount -> 2.6k

Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, Smut, teasing, mention of mommy kink but just teasing, fingering (fem!receiving), squirting unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, his hand around readers throat

A/N -> I want to thank @imtryingbuck. First of all thank you for writing the first part of the Oneshot, but as well thank you for listenting helping to come up with that idea. I love youuu. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Events -> Sweetheart Bingo | Row Two-One | Kiss me | @sweetspicybingo | Bingo of your own | B4 | Stripping | @thebo3bingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The heavy raindrops beat surprisingly gently off the window as you and Bucky curled up together on the couch, watching as the scene on the screen unfolded in front of you.

Despite having the heating on, and that you were in between the ends of the couch and Bucky, and also having the fluffy beige blanket that Wanda had brought you for your birthday, you were still feeling cold. Especially your feet.

Bucky mumbled softly, telling you to stop moving, but you just couldn’t find a comfortable position to sit and find the warmth you were so desperately trying to get. After moving too much, Bucky pulled your legs over his lap, his left hand going to your thigh, his metal thumb moving up and down slowly, and his right hand doing the same against your left calf.

It helped. A little.

Your feet were still so cold, and you were pretty sure that you couldn’t feel them anymore. And that’s when a brilliant idea popped into your head. Shifting once again, you sighed happily.

"Ahh, baby, your feet!” Bucky’s screech would have made you laugh if it weren’t from the fact that your feet were already warming up.

“What do you mean?” Asking in the most innocent voice you could muster.

“They’re freezing!”

“I know”

“And you’ve put them on my dick.”

“And they’re getting warmer now.”

In turn, your boyfriend of three years sent you a glare that to others would have them backing off, but you knew that he could never do you any harm or ever be mad at you, just like the time you were bored and started putting magnets on his left arm just to see if they would stick to the prosthetic limb - they do, by the way. He sent you the same glare that day too, before letting you carry on entertaining yourself. “Fine, now carry on watching the film.”

“Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, baby.”

Finally warm and cozy watching the movie play, you found yourself getting turned on by the slow movements of Bucky’s fingers creating invisible drawings on your leg.

"Baby,” his tone was warning you not to carry on with the movements that you were doing, but did you? No.

“What? Buck I’m not doing anything.”

“Your-ah, baby”

“What Bucky?”

“Princess-“ the nickname, ignited the urge to carry on your actions happening under the blanket. “stop.”

“Stop what, Bucky?”

“Y-you're making me hard.”

“With my toes? I’m just wiggling my toes, Buck.”

"Yeah, on my cock.”

“You’re silly; let’s keep watching the fi-“

"Baby, my cock's hard now.”

“Sounds like a you problem, not a me problem.”

“Baby… please”

You smirked when you saw the way he shifted, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your leg.

“You sound like a little puppy, baby,” you teased.

He groaned, unsure if it turned him on or if he just wanted to show you that he wasn’t the puppy you thought he was. Bucky guided one of his hands until he reached your ankles and gripped them, pushing them apart so he could sit between them. And he did; he moved so his knees holding your legs spread apart and towered over you; his hands were on both sides of your body.

“You’re such a tease, doll,” he groaned, his lips crashing on yours, and the little puppy with his soft blue eyes turned immediately into a hungry predator, which had pounced itself on its prey.

He lowered his kisses down your jawline until he reached your neck and bit into your skin. Bucky smiled when soft moans left your lips because of the slight pain and the pleasure he caused with his bites. His hand slid down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, and he pulled them together with your panties down.

“Someone’s really needy, huh?” you grinned and ran your fingers through his soft brown hair.

Bucky chuckled before his hand moved up your inner thigh until he reached your already throbbing pussy. His lips formed into a smile when his fingertips touched your wetness, slowly making their way through your folds until he reached your entrance. His fingers leaked with your arousal when he lifted them slightly to look at them.

“Who is the needy one, doll?”

“I’m not the one with a hard member because his girlfriend warmed her feet on her boyfriend's crotch.”

“But I didn’t do anything yet, which caused MY pussy to be wet like that,” he said, empathizing the: ‘my pussy’ to make it clear it’s his and only his.

“Yours? Prove it, baby boy. Show me what’s yours.”

And he did as you told him. Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, not giving you time to adjust to them; he pushed them deep inside of your tight, clenching walls. You moaned and gripped his hair; you tried to ground yourself while he thrusted them, enchanted by the scene in front of him in and out of you. He loved the sound that is constantly leaving your lips when he hits your sweet spot. He could look at you the whole day, as long as you made those delicious sounds. Then he lowered his head, kissing your thighs before he made his way to your cunt. His tongue licked through your wet folds. You clenched around his fingers, and Bucky groaned in response, imagining how much you would tighten around his dick; you would squeeze him until he came, and you would have to take everything he would give you.

“Bucky, please. It feels so good.”

“Don’t dare to cum before I allow you to cum. I want to hear that you're mine and that this pussy belongs to me. Say it. Scream it and then cum,” he said, turned on by the surprised expression on your face.

Bucky was always possessive around you, especially during sex, but he never wanted you to scream those words. He loved when you told him you’re his, but this turned you on beyond belief. He moved his fingers at a brutal pace inside of you, curled his fingers, and hit your sweet spot a few more times while his tongue joined his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck-“ you mumbled, throwing your head back.

Bucky groaned. He felt your walls tightening around his fingers and your wetness growing, while his rock-hard cock pressed against the fabric of his pants. He chuckled softly when you pushed yourself more against him. His tongue and his fingers felt so good that you felt like you couldn’t hold your orgasm back. The knot in your stomach grew, and Bucky knew; he slowed his fingers down and let go of you.

“Bucky- please.”

“Cum, all over my fingers,” he told you.

He curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot again, and made you cum all over his fingers. You moaned and arched your back while he moved his fingers, still in and out of you.

“Bucky- so-so sensitive,” you whimpered.

“I know, but give me one more, and then I will give you what you really want, oke?”

With a nod, you threw your head back into the pillow, arched your back even more, and met his fingers. They were so deep inside of you, hitting all the right places, and you felt the growing pleasure in your stomach again. His thick fingers moved slowly, but you felt every tiny bit of them. Your walls squeezed them perfectly, and Bucky couldn't wait to shove his dick inside of your tight, warm, and clenching hole.

“Mhm, so close again. Huh, doll?” Bucky teased you; his thumb rubbed small circles over your clit.

Your own loud moan interrupted yourself before you told him that you’re so close. So close that it just needed a few more strokes of his fingers against your walls, and you would cum a second time over his fingers.

Your fingers dig into the fabric of the couch, grounding yourself. Bucky smiled mischievously while he looked at you, then back down on his fingers. He loved the view of his fingers disappearing inside of you. The sounds they made whenever he pushed them back into your wetness. His fingers were covered in your arousal. Bucky lowered his head and kissed your clit before he dipped his tongue back inside of you with his fingers.

The combination of his tongue and fingers and your already growing feeling in your lower stomach were enough to made you come again. You screamed his name, almost shattering walls, when he curled his fingers and made you squirt while he hit your sweet spot over and over again. Bucky smirked, knowing that the neighbors could hear you screaming out his name while the waves of pleasure were rushing through your body.

“I need you inside of me, Bucky,” you whimpered.

“I’m inside of you. Don’t you feel my fingers inside of you?”

You groaned frustratedly. Bucky knew that you wanted his dick buried in your tight pussy, but the way you looked at him with your big eyes, trying to ask him for his dick but being too shy to ask him for it.

“Bucky-“

“Come one, doll. Tell me what you want.”

He pulled back and smirked at you and your flushed face, slowly taking off his belt to undo his jeans. He teased you by pulling his jeans and boxers down, revealing his hard shaft. You decided to tease him too by taking off your shirt and bra slower than he would have liked.

“Do you need my help, baby?”

“Be a good one and take your hands away; take off your clothes completely,” you demanded with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully but did what he was told. He removed the clothes from his body before he was kneeling between your legs again. Your shirt and bra are placed on Bucky’s clothes. He licked his lips and grabbed his cock, sliding the tip of it through your wet folds.

“What do you want me to do, doll?”

“Your dick, inside of me.”

He grinned, gripped your waist, and turned you in one movement around so you’re on your hands and knees in front of him. He then lined himself up, groaning softly when his sensitive tip brushed along your folds. His dick, now covered in your arousal, slowly entered you and was greeted by a welcoming squeeze of your walls, pulling him deeper inside of you. You both groaned, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips.

"Fuck, you always feel so perfect, so fucking tight for me,” he mumbled, letting you adjust to his huge size.

Bucky slowly started to thrust inside of you. He pulled his dick almost completely out of you before he pushed himself back inside. His lower stomach pressed against your ass when his dick was buried deep inside of you. You moaned, walls clenching around his dick, but you wanted more. You wanted him to be rough, not soft and careful; you wanted Bucky to fuck you, not to make love to you.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby boy. Such a sweet and shy little one for me, huh?” you teased him with a smirk.

“Don’t push the limits, doll.”

“Buck, you can be honest that you’re such a little subby baby for me. You thrust so softly and shyly inside of me; it’s ok; mommy takes care of you when your dick is sensitive.”

“I’m only soft because I love you. But you know I can be rough,” he said, pushing his dick harsher inside of you.

“Prove it, baby boy. Show mommy that you can fuck her and not just make love to her.”

Bucky groaned, a smirk formed on his lips, and his grip tightened. He then pulled out of you, slamming his dick back inside of you and making you moan loudly. You arched your back and pressed yourself more against him, while his balls always met your pussy. Bucky speeds up a bit more, fucking you senseless while your walls squeeze him, and he tries not to cum immediately.

“B-Bu-. F-uck,” you whimpered.

“Can’t even use your words anymore? Already fucked dumb, doll? Did I fuck you so well that everything in your mind is my dick inside your tight hole?”

He loved teasing you, the way you gripped the fabric of the couch or the way you pressed yourself more against him, quietly asking him for more. Bucky slid his metal hand along your back until he reached your neck. He then wrapped it around your throat, making you gasp. The cold of his metal hand lets you shiver, but at the same time, it’s cooling the heat of your skin softly. He pulled you with his hand around your throat, your back pressed against his muscular chest. He didn’t squeeze his hand; he was just holding it there because he knew how much you loved it. The new angle made it possible for him to thrust deeper inside of you; you both moaned loudly whenever he hit your sweet spot and made you clench your walls around his huge dick. Your pussy was still so sensitive because of the orgasm before that you felt every little bit, every vein of his cock stroked along your walls.

“Bucky- I’m s-so close.”

“Hold it. You’re so perfectly warm and tight.”

“Bu-“

You squeezed around him again, more than before, making him gasp.

“Fuck- Baby. Continue this, and I need to cum too,” he says, pushing your back more against him.

His hot breath met your neck; he kissed your shoulder and jawline before he pulled out of you.

“I- urgh,” you gasp, then try to complain that you were so close and he just pulled out of you. You got interrupted when he turned you around.

“Shhh, I wanna look at your beautiful face when you scream my name, doll,” he said with a chuckle, kissing your lips softly.

When he gripped your hips again, he pushed himself inside of you, groaning when he immediately hit your sweet spot. Bucky fucks you like an animal in need, exactly what you wanted and you’re just a few more thrusts away from your orgasm.

“Don’t dare to stay quiet when you cum, I want to hear you.”

You nodded. Bucky's metal fingers found their way along your lower stomach and through your folds until he reached your clit. You yelped when the cold met your warm skin. He rubbed circles over your clit, you arched your back, throwing your head back, and your hand wrapped around his arm to ground yourself. Your nails dug into the metal, while the pleasure inside of you grew until you came. You screamed his name; walls were clenching and squeezing his dick.

“Mhm- can I cum? Please. Can I?” Bucky asked, chasing his own orgasm.

You placed your hand on his cheek, and your thumb stroked over his lips when you nodded.

“Cum, baby boy. You did so well,” you teased, but Bucky was too deep in his own release and pleasure that he didn’t say anything about you telling him he was a submissive little one.

When you nodded, his thrusts became sloppier, and Bucky came just a few thrusts after you. His seed painted your walls, and the two of you moaned softly about the feeling while he slowed his thrusts.

“I love when you scream my name like that, doll,” he admitted, kissing your lips softly.

“I love when you get turned on just because I warm my feet on your dick.”

“No- you moved your toes. You kinda messaged my dick, and you were needy because of me stroking your leg.”

You groaned, frustrated, but nodded. He was right; he turned you on beyond belief just because he stroked your thigh. But who blamed you when you had such a good-looking and lovely boyfriend? Every girl would be needy when he just touched them.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

[catsgut]

how scumbag jjk characters fuck

ft. gojo, yuuji, geto, toji, and megumi. all 18+

warnings : honestly just nasty men

-gojo

ok so scumbag gojo seems like any other fuckboy, but believe me when i say he’s completely different. he knows he’s hot so he doesn’t bother trying to be nice to girls. they will sleep with him either way, so why would he fake it?

always video tapes his hookups. doesn’t matter where or with who. once he filmed himself fucking a girl in an alleyway, flipping the camera around from the pov angle of your ass bent over to his face, flashing the camera a peace sign and a silly face

cums inside without asking and moans i love you everytime without fail

missionary is his favorite, but he also isn’t picky. any position where he can show off his pretty face works for him

moans like a little bitch and says things that aren’t even really that hot, but it’s gojo…. “take this long fat cock!!” “gunna creampie your cooch!”

always makes sure to eat your pussy like he is starved! he moans into it so loudly like he’s the one getting head. honestly the best part about hooking up with him.. i can see him doing that thing where he shakes his head side to side really fast with his tongue out lmfao

tells you to leave .5 seconds after he cums. does not want to cuddle after but will tell you to text him!

doesn’t text back

anyway, you aren’t leaving unsatisfied, but you’re definitely getting that post nut clarity on your way home. was it worth the second hand embarrassment?

-yuuji

lives with his mom and seems like a sweet boy, but gojo and geto have corrupted him. kinda a ladies man… he’s so sweet like a little puppy dog. hard to say to to him.

does not care what position, but he is an ass man. asks if you wanna try anal like every time you guys see each other. when you tell him yes, and you will, he doesn’t like wearing a condom. kinda gross, but he’s cute so you let it slide

he fucks hard and fast with 0 rythme. you ask him to slow down, but ten seconds later he is back to his original pace.

another moaner like gojo. he will be whining in your ear the whole time

he has such a big mommy kink it’s crazy. will suck your tits and ask you to call him a good boy, but if he’s around his friends he’s telling them how nasty you were for him.

cums inside, but when he does pull out, it shoots the back of your head into your hair. will proceed to cuddle you after. it’s very confusing because he tells you he likes you, but once you leave don’t expect a text back unless it’s him asking for nudes.

honestly the nicest out of all of them, but in no way does he care about your feelings. his only concerns are when he’s going to get laid next.

-geto

the way geto will have you FOOLED. like he can be just as rude as gojo, but he’s nice about it?? you at first believe him to be an alright guy, until you show up to the trailer him and gojo share. it’s dirty and smells like blunt ash. he doesn’t seem to have a problem with his bare mattress being on the ground in the living room area, patting the spot next to him

plays music loudly and honestly his playlist is pretty good so you don’t mind.

loves fucking you in doggy and will stick a thumb in your ass. thinks it’s funny to “accidentally” try to stick his dick in the wrong hole

pulls out and cums wherever, but never inside. he claims it is because he’s “too much of a gentleman” yet he refuses to wear a condom.

he fucks so good though you can’t even complain. the dick is immaculate

doesn’t eat pussy, says it’s gross but will ask for a blowjob 10 minutes into hanging out with him. “i let you smoke my weed i think i deserve something in return.” he will ask you to politely please leave if you say no.

let’s you shower afterwards, but honestly after seeing the state his bathroom is in you don’t know if you want to

-toji

idk where to begin. the scummiest of scummy men. hits you up on his friends phone because he doesn’t own one himself… you know he’s a piece of shit, but this dick is so good?? it’s unreal..

he can’t hold a job down, but he knows how to beat that pussy up. he’s so sloppy and gross with it.

degrades tf out of you! pulling your hair, spitting on you, ect.. anything downright dirty he’s into it. lowkey likes feet and probably sucks toes while he’s balls deep in you

doesn’t use lube, but soooooo much spit wooo man salivates so much

EATS ASSSSSSS i just know he does. will spit on it and try shoving his tongue as deep as it’ll go

his favorite position is pushing your knees to your chest. he’s able to fuck into you deeper that way. takes rearranging your guts to a whole other level.

PULL OUT GAME STRONG AF. man does notttt!! want another kid. he doesn’t even take care of the one he has now. still no condom though

you will most likely get a uti no matter how many times you piss afterwards, sorry. thats just the chance you have to take, but its honestly so worth it.

he is the one dipping out after sex because it’s never his house he fucks you at. (he doesn’t have a place of his own)

-megumi

you know he isn’t very nice, but he also isn’t down right mean? like geto, will smoke you out in his car and expect head afterwards. doesn’t tell you to leave if you say no, but will jerk off anyways.

boob man all the way. he doesn’t care about size, but likes to make you feel insecure about them. he’ll tease you about having a chest too small/big

likes when you squat ride him. he’s lazy and doesn’t feel like putting in the work. he won’t make eye contact what so ever, eyes only focused on your tits and pussy.

if you get tired in your position on top he will sigh and just lay there till you’re ready to start bouncing again.

doesn’t dirty talk or moan really. it’s mostly grunts and heavy breathing, but when you’re sucking his dick you can sometimes squeeze a whimper or two out.

like his daddy, his pull out game is above and beyond. doesn’t even want to take a chance with getting you pregnant and honestly doesn’t mind wearing a condom. if he isn’t wearing one then he likes to cum on your face and in your eyes.

he’s kind of sadistic, but just way too lazy to do anything about it.

let’s you shower after sex, but he only has a bar of soap that has pubes stuck to it in his shower. you wonder why his skin is so clear…

doesn’t care that much if you hang out after sex, but he won’t talk to you. just sits there on his phone. he’s actually not horrible about texting back, but don’t get attached because he is absolutely talking to several other girls.

[loveinhawkins]

picturing Eddie first meeting Dustin and thinking yeah, he knows how this goes: he’ll be a larger than life, comical figure in this kid’s life for, like, not even a year before he leaves Hawkins High in the dust.

And sure, Dustin is, like, ridiculously endearing even when he’s being a cocky little shit in campaigns, and that suits Eddie just fine, ‘cause he can be a cocky little shit at the best of times, downright obnoxious really, he thinks—a part of him’s never outgrown the juvenile, no matter how many times he repeats senior year.

Plus Dustin is crazily good at solving riddles, so Eddie’s remaining months leading Hellfire are definitely gonna be a fun challenge.

Then March comes.

And Eddie’s shaking apart in a boathouse, seeing impossible, terrible things on a loop in his head, Chrissy, Chrissy, God no, please, and Dustin’s there, with a wisdom far beyond his years, calmly leading him out of the dark.

Eddie half expects it to be a trick, but no. Dustin Henderson believes him.

You don’t know me, Eddie wants to say.

But there’s a constant defiance in Dustin’s expression, even when he’s clearly trying to keep things light and breezy, there’s nothing to worry about! Like he’s just daring for Eddie to contradict him.

There’s something assured in how the kid does things, Eddie thinks. He can see how the years of all this shit have shaped him, have him flitting between maturity and earnestness: something born from a childhood that’s not been lost, just altered.

He watches Dustin walk with Steve Harrington in the woods—can read the shared history and fondness hidden in between layers of snark; they’re family, he knows that without a doubt.

What trips him up is that Dustin keeps looking back, keeps drawing him back into the group with complaints that he’s walking too slow, and his eyebrows are raised meaningfully, like he’s really saying that there’s room for Eddie here, too.

And Eddie doesn’t know how to convey the sudden gratitude he feels closing up his throat—feels too jittery still, too raw to do anything justice.

He keeps close when Dustin tears off through the woods, heart in his mouth as the night darkens, Dustin, can you slow down? Dustin!

He pulls Dustin back from the lake’s edge just in time, then feels Steve’s watchful eyes on him—spots a flicker of approval, like he’s passed some sort of test.

And that feeling only grows the longer he’s around Steve, lying through his teeth in The Upside Down, I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, and Steve’s giving him this knowing sideways glance, like maybe they’re something of the same; Eddie feels a sudden, unexpected rush of joy at the thought, dancing in and out of Steve’s space, still super jealous as hell, by the way.

“I told you, right?” Dustin says, grinning widely as Steve drives them out of Forest Hills at breakneck speed. “He’s awesome.”

And Eddie feels the fondness of his own smile, feels it right down to his core, because he gets that Dustin’s only being so forthcoming because Steve can’t hear him right now.

Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea.

It hits him then, while roughhousing with Dustin in the grass (a deliberate distraction, trying to make the kids forget about weapons and fire): that he’s never really been the kinda guy who people want to stick around, but now…

Now he’s starting to think that he could be.

Starts to imagine, starts to hope—and that’s huge, something that would’ve seemed impossible mere days ago—as he sees Robin and Nancy laughing at his antics, their weapon-making temporarily forgotten.

They like me, Eddie thinks with wonder, they really like me.

And he wants—sudden and fierce, with all he has—to change the world for them, to make it so Robin Buckley would just be spending spring break watching arty films, dreaming of Paris; so Nancy Wheeler would never need to hide guns in her bedroom, would never have to carry an unimaginable grief.

Steve looks over, too—his laugh carries across the field, and Eddie is caught by the warmth in his eyes; even as Dustin manages to playfully tackle him, he’s still thinking of Steve, and maybe, maybe…

The lightness fades as they go over the plan, but not the emotion: Eddie keeps that tucked away, safe, a promise to himself.

“Uh, are you sure about this?” he says in an undertone to Steve, when it’s first revealed that it’s him and Dustin paired up together.

Steve’s eyes are apologetic, “Sorry, man, I’ve tried every—if there was a way to just, like, sit it out, I’d have—”

“No,” Eddie says urgently, “I mean…” And he points at himself before nodding discreetly to where Dustin is—currently talking up a storm with Erica, something about vents that he can’t make sense of.

“Are you sure?” Eddie presses, trying to put all he’s not saying into the question, I can see how much that kid means to you, I’ve known him, like, six months, Harrington, that’s nothing, why, why do you—

Steve shakes his head. A little smile breaks through his concern. “Yeah, of course,” he says, like it’s nothing.

But Eddie can feel the weight of it. A passing of the torch.

And he doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words: that, apart from Wayne, he’s never really allowed people in, never allowed them to matter like this.

As they drive back to the Creel House, as time runs out and nerves build, he tries to show everything he can’t say; he helps Nancy take stock of supplies, offers Robin his shoulder so she can sleep, and he knows that’s not enough, barely scratches the surface, but it’s all he’s got.

He sits in the back of the RV, watches Steve, tense and silent in the driver’s seat, and knows with certainty what his mission is: get Dustin Henderson safely back home.

And no, Eddie doesn’t know how any of this is gonna go.

But he can hope.

He can try.

[thebimbopalace]

ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: with your ‘lover’ going out of town on business, he leaves you under the watchful eye of his most trusted hitman toji fushiguro — who grinds your gears.

wc: 1.1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: mafia au, hitman!toji fushiguro x fem!reader, foul language, feminine pet names, allusions to sëxual encounters, reader's ‘lover’ referred to as ‘wallet’

authors note: inspired by a scene from the film scarface.

“fushiguro, make sure this girl is taken care of while i'm gone,” your ‘lovers’ scratchy voice instructs the man cloaked in black before you both. the man gives a curt nod to his boss as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

as you sit there, bored, your wallet comes over and gives a chaste kiss on your jawline as he warns you to behave while he’s gone for the next few days. you give him your signature sweet fake smile as he walks out the double oak doors leaving you and the dark-haired hitman alone.

silence. silence envelopes you both along with that tension. it seems nonexistent to the naked eye but, you and toji know all too well that this sexual tension is anything but new. that doesn’t stop you from ignoring his obvious hungry stares while scanning your body.

you stand from your seat bending down and fixing the strap of your saint-laurent heel before straightening your posture. “if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to retire for the night,” you speak politely to the man before you, wanting to get out of this stuffy tension-infested office.

“that’s so? alone?” toji teases with that stupid smirk gracing his oddly plump lips. you lock eyes with him, not breaking away from his irises. “well yes, who else would i bring to my bed?” you inquired knowing where this was going. the question you just asked opened the door for toji.

and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t walk through it.

“you’re lookin’ at ‘em,” and there it is. right on cue. you can’t even sneeze without this man making some kind of pass at you. not to say that you aren’t flattered. you recognize that toji is an attractive man. scratch that, a very attractive man. but, with you fucking his boss that means you’re basically off-limits to anyone. even to the infamous toji fushiguro.

“don’t get the wrong idea fushiguro,” the snark evident in your tone. a stark contrast to your modest demeanor towards your wallet's subordinates. toji doesn't flinch at the, dare he say, bitchy tone in your voice. this is expected from you. so predictable, so easy to tease. “call me toji, pretty girl,” toji drawls, that teasing lilt ever so present.

that fucking nickname. you hate it.

you hate the way it makes you feel. the slow spread of flush, making your skin sizzle with arousal, the beating of your heart knocking against your chest when he looks at you with his fiery indigo eyes blown with desire and longing. he's getting under your skin. and he relishes it. you swallow down the lust rearing its ugly head clearing your throat.

“fine . . toji, don’t get the wrong idea, i don’t fuck with the help,” you warn. you trying to remind toji of his place is cute to him. he knows who you are to his boss, you know who you are to his boss, and frankly . . . he doesn't give a fuck. “you look like you don’t fuck, period,” he mocks as he crosses his burly arms over his chest, cotton sleeves straining against his beefy biceps.

“excuse me?”

“ahh seems like those pretty ears don’t work either,” he chuckles as he takes one step closer to you. his expensive cologne rises to your nostrils making your mind all fuzzy. his hulking frame dwarfs yours as he invades your personal space creating a thick, viscous atmosphere simmering with heat around you both.

“what i said was you look like you don’t fuck. i mean c’mon, that hot body of yours hasn’t been fucked properly in a looong time, right?” as his eyes scan the tantalizing divots of your body so obviously.

you’re pissed. not only at his blatant lack of a filter but also that . . . he’s right. it has been a long time. but you’re not going to admit that to him of all people. “who or when i fuck is none of your business,” you spit with venom standing your ground, maintaining eye contact. he wants you to crack, to be shy in the presence of him and his nonsense. 

too bad for him.

he chuckles. that damned sound that makes your blood pressure skyrocket from the vibrations. “guess i was right.” his mitt of a hand extends as his calloused fingers tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “a shame really, a stunning beauty like you not getting the treatment she deserves,” clicking his tongue.

you scoff as you slap his hand away, “what do you know about treating anyone right?” the words leave your mouth like a river of molten lava, hoping to burn him with each word you utter. you scan his features to gauge his reaction and you find nothing. not a wince at the low blow you just dished out to him.

toji isn't going to let you see him sweat. you both are alike in that fashion. “touché, but i do know about pussy. and yours is probably in need of a good fuckin’. hmmm?” toji muses as his dark brow lifts, waiting for your answer. “wrong,” you lie. you and him both know you're lying. that's why, like clockwork, a chuckle escapes the back of his throat. he leans dangerously close to your face, lips a millimeter apart from yours.

“oh? bet if i slip my tongue in that begging cunt, she’ll start cryin’ for me," his seductive whisper brushes over your lips and kneads itself into your core, chipping away at the wall you thought you created between you two. “doubt that toji,” you firmly state, making sure to hide your ever-growing thirst from his closeness.

“yeah? come to my bed tonight, and we'll put that to the test," he challenges. a smug bastard is what he is. he truly expects you to say yes to his offer. to drop your guard, letting him finally have a taste of your saccharine slick that he'll happily lap up like a dog to a water bowl. unfortunately for him and maybe you, your pride is still fully intact.

you glare at him, voice raising an octave, “look, even if i were stranded, needy, begging for cock on a deserted island, you'd be the last thing i'd ever fuck.” and with that, you storm out the office heading down the hall towards your lavish bedroom without sparing him a glance. toji is left alone mulling over what just happened. your words said one thing but the appetite in your eyes said another. that passion, that fire, it's what keeps toji coming back.

you're normally so docile, polite even, to his boss and the other men who worked alongside him. but with toji, the real you came out. and for that, is why his interest is piqued.

“atta girl”

@shokosprincess @shaguro @sttoru @chromimis — *mwah*

2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace

[neptnszn]

WE MISS YOU ! ★ SATOSUGU

suguru thinks it cant hurt to show his dear boyfriend what he's been missin'.

★cw: satosugu x reader, filming, sending stuffz (all consensual, so don't fret), lil bit of anal stuff - it's not so serious, squirting, dirty talk, this is set in season 1 except suguru n satoru made up n didn't die because im gonna be on an angst vibe l8r, reader, toru and sugu are dating yupp. if you can't already tell, this is not proofread ☠️🙏🏽

being in a poly relationship with satosugu is basically the epitome of spontaneity. you have to essentially teach yourself to expect the unexpected.

the unexpected being suguru coming home before satoru from a mission late into the night and suddenly getting the urge to play with your pretty pussy.

he's got your legs spread wide and panties pulled to the side, dark lashes fluttering down at your swollen cunt.

his expression is nothing drastic, but simply seeing his lips part as each glob of slick dribbles out of your hole has you wriggling in excitement. he's mesmerised.

“so wet..” he's so quiet you almost missed him—that, and the rough pad of his thumb finding its way on your clit, pressing down on it just to hear you mewl.

steadily, he sinks his middle finger inside, adding his ring finger shortly after.

the intrusion of his thick fingers has you keening, widening your knees for him as you lean your head back against the cool pillow.

he catches the sound immediately, hooded eyes flitting to your face and holding eye contact for seconds. you've never been able to look suguru in his eyes for very long, his natural bedroom eyes never fail to stir the pot of sin in your stomach.

suguru keeps the talking on a minimum tonight, too focused on the way your walls suck him in like you don't wanna let him go. he licks his lips and eases them deeper, adopting a moderately slow yet dizzying rhythm as he buries himself down to the last knuckle in your sopping cunt. his brows furrow with intrigue when you whine, watching the way you heave your chest to catch the air that's constantly being pushed out your lungs.

you look down between your spread thighs to see his two fingers stuffed inside, glistening in your sticky cream.

the filthy sight makes suguru exhale shakily, leaning his head forward to take a closer look. you cringe while he practically inspects your pussy, biting your lip to quieten a moan that flows from your throat when he begins picking up the pace. he's scissors your walls open for him and the sloppy squelches coupled with your whines makes suguru feel light.

the sorcerer pulls away to ground himself for a moment, sliding his fingers out of you and pops the wet digits in his mouth, leaving you feeling empty.

he grunts at your taste, taking long sucks and sighing when he lets them go.

seconds go by before he touches you again, and the feeling of not being filled by something itches your entire being. however; before you can even protest, suguru lets something slip that as your eyes widening.

“i wanna show satoru.”

it was both a statement and a question, looking at your face for any signs of distaste or discomfort. when he gets nothing but silent shock from you, he asks again. “can i, sweetheart?”

truth be told, the three of you have made mini movies before, only when shitfaced drunk.

but if you truly disliked them, you would've deleted them from your secured album long ago.

it has you thinking, fidgeting your pedicured toes in excitement. props to suguru, he might've just unlocked a new kink.

“yeah, yeah. let's show ‘toru,” you agree with shortened breath, nodding your head. a cat-like grin stretches on his lips and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table, your heart hammers in excitement as the phone unlocks with an audible click. the idea of showing your other lover the nastiness that you were up to while he's on a late night mission thrilled you.

once suguru has the camera app open and set to video, his amber eyes flicker to yours a final time to make sure you're completely okay with it. his green light is your subtle nod with your bottom lip between your teeth and he presses the red button.

suguru speaks up, wasting absolutely no time with his voice low, “look what you're missin’ out on ‘toru.” he lowers his free hand down to part your pussy lips with his index and middle finger—the milky white webs sticking on your puffed folds. he curses. “we miss you baby.”

he angles the phone a tad bit closer when he slips his fingers back inside, your hot walls spasming around him and he groans. “she's so tight ‘n wet. look at how much she loves it when I stuff her.” he sighs, resuming his rhythm of deep finger fucking your creamy cunt open. “you like havin’ our fingers stretchin’ you out, don't you?” his thumb is back on your clit, gliding along the skin in steady circles.

you feel good, lips parted as whines escape from your throat. his nasty words and being put on display has your lips twitching upwards. “uh huh—i love it suguru..”

he smiles endearingly as you babble, quickening the pace of his fingers before they tilt upwards, the tips of his fingers rub up on that cushiony spot. his dick throbs when you moan, the sound to slutty and raw. his amber orbs observe the way your hips raise off the bed and thighs quake, continuing his abuse on your g-spot. his admiration for how responsive you are took the spotlight tonight, his jaw remaining slacked like he forgot how to close it. “tell satoru how you're feeling, sweetheart.”

your words slur clumsily, white hot pleasure clouding all reason in your brain. “oooh, feels s'fucking good, ‘toru..right there—” you wail, reaching around your legs to grip the back of your thighs to keep yourself from falling apart too quickly.

it seems that your boyfriend before you had other plans though, because he speeds up his circles on your clit, coaxing more slick to drip from your cunt with every push and pull of his broad digits.

yet when a thought flashes through his mind, he pulls his fingers out with a swift motion, your now empty hole gaping slightly as you whine in frustration. with heavy breath, suguru slides his thumb along the trail of your milky slick that pools down to your ass and presses the pad of his thumb against the puckered hole.

a choked sob echoes from you when you feel the tip of his thumb breaching past your rim for a couple of seconds, zooming the camera in on the way both of your messy holes tense and squeeze at his actions. “oh my god…?!” you squeak, sounding almost devoid of oxygen due how bad you were caught off guard.

you're so far gone, the sheer shock of him messing with your asshole has your skin firing. satoru likes to toy with it when he takes you from behind but never went past the ring of muscle.through your glassy eyes, you can see sugur watching your face with a devilish grin with his phone in hand. that nasty fuck.

he retracts his thumb as quickly as he put it in, ring and middle finger pushing into your pussy again and ramming them in and out of your hole. the overwhelming stimulation brings your lost orgasm back to the pit of your belly, squealing with a lazy hand over your mouth and hot tears streaming down your face. it's intense, legs bouncing, gasping for air, curling your fingers into the sheets—

you're squirting before you can warn suguru, the fierce gush of your fluids drench his black sweats and slightly on his phone that he holds, jerking his own head back in surprise. you feel like your head’s been shoved underwater, the sounds of your pussy squelching muffled as your teary eyes roll all the way back in mind numbing pleasure.

“shiiit, look at that,” suguru coos as he watches you spritz all over him with amazed eyes. he uses a thumb to wipe his back camera, watching the video clear up a bit as you continue to cum, cum cum. “so nasty, can't help but squirt all over me.”

he finds himself addicted to the sight—drool seeping past your lips, legs hiked up in the air hair all messed up—he just fucking moans. he wants to see more. suguru juts his wrist back and forth, and practically pounds your pussy with his fingers and palm. “c'mon, c'mon..gimme another. show ‘toru how messy that sweet cunt is.”

the overstimulation burns through the pleasure, gripping his wrist with deathening grip as you squirm on the now wet bedsheets.

“fuckk, fuuuuck! i feel it, ‘toru!” you rasp, legs spread so wide, such a sinful image on his phone and suguru chuckles

“hear that? she misses you baby. c’mon pretty, show us how you cum,” he encourages, taking delight in the way you still momentarily as your cunt squelches louder, louder.

the second wave of your orgasm hits you like three trucks—crying and sobbing while suguru records you squirting on his fingers and the bed for the second time tonight, hypnotised praises falling from his lips.

when he pulls his fingers out he brings his phone forward, making sure to showcase your wet thighs and the thick cream that drips down to your ass and spreads your thighs. “jesus..y’did so well honey.” the sorcerer murmurs, taking his gentle palm and rubbing it on the expanse of your soft tummy, watching you shake and come down from your ridiculously intense orgasm.

you're barely even conscious as you hear his phone chime and watch suguru tap away on his phone through blurry eyes. he sets his phone aside and through your post nut haze, you can just about hear the buzz of your phone.

hopefully, satoru will like his little we miss you present.

BONUS.

Satoru wipes the sweat from his brow as he prepares to slip his blindfold back on, fiddling with the black elastic fabric around his head. The chilling bite of the night air prickles against his neck as he watches the remains of a curse disintegrate into nothingness. With a gentle sigh, he tucks his hands back into his pocket, feeling around for his mobile. His tall frame leans against the nearby brick wall and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his messenger chats to find Ijichi’s number for a ride back home. but through one free eye, he clicks on a notification.

3 new messages from suguboo 😮‍💨, sweetness 🩷, you.

God, he really needed to think of a name for that group chat.

suguboo 😮‍💨: ① video 01:47 AM suguboo 😮‍💨: miss you hon ☺️ next time you'll know not to piss yaga off and make him send you on a long ass mission when you could've done it in broad daylight. 01:47 AM suguboo 😮‍💨: love you, get home safe. 01:48 AM

And as Satoru clicked onto the video he felt his cock swell so fast, his mouth parted while he watched suguru finger and play with you. he felt so perverted, yet so lucky for having two lovers who'd send him something so lewd. he exhaled heavily as he tilted his head up to the sky, bringing a large hand to massage the bulge beneath his dark blue slacks.

you reacted “🤤” to suguboo 😮‍💨 opened.

typing..

you: you guys are TRYING to kill me. 02:25 AM

★ authors note: poly satosugu has been in my mind for a while and i fear that this just the beginning. i wanted to be done w this earlier but wtv ENJOY!

© NEPTNSZN 2024 ★ please do NOT copy, repost or modify my pieces, apply credit when necessary.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.6 devil's advocate

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 6/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.7k

a/n. so sorry for the wait! i'm really excited for this chapter, it's one that i've been waiting for since before i even started the series, and it was a lot of fun to write. i hope you enjoooy <3 if there are typos, your mind is just playing tricks on you

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

Life after realizing you had feelings for Gojo Satoru seemed to pass by in slow-motion, as you spent a significant portion of the day consumed by thoughts of him. Although it was against your better judgment, it was nice to have your mind occupied by something that wasn’t career stress, school stress, or financial stress. It’s been a minute since you’ve felt this way about someone, and it was healthy to indulge in some escapism, right? 

You find yourself scrolling through his Instagram page for the second third time today, captivated by the attractive photos of him in his soccer uniform, kicking at the ball with a determined look on his face. Your gaze fixates on the blue follow-back button staring back at you on his page, remembering that you still haven’t followed him back. Pulling your phone away from your line of sight, you glance up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and swiftly tap the blue button. You clutch your phone to your chest right after, surprised by the butterflies in your stomach, but it’s only ten seconds before you’re back to perusing his photos. 

You sigh dreamily from where you were laid back on your bed. Mina looks up at you from her desk with an irritated expression on her face. 

“What’s with the dreamy sighing every thirty seconds? I’m trying to study here,” she says to you.

You throw her a look. “Oh please, I’ve had to deal with your dreamy sighs every single time you were on the phone with Todo for the past two weeks. You can handle a few of mine.”

Mina’s eyes widen at your words and she turns in her chair to look at you intently. “Wait…who are you dreamily sighing for?”

You blink in response. “Oh, uh. No one? I mean, what’s that one actor’s name–the one in that show we were watching?” You tap your finger to your lip, pretending to be in deep thought, but Mina wasn’t buying any of it since she promptly stood up from her chair and snatched your phone out of your hand. You yelp and sit up on your bed to try and grab it back from her but she has that I was the eldest sibling in my household grip on your phone. 

“Is this…Gojo Satoru’s Instagram page?” she asks, extending your phone out in front of her and tilting her head to the side at the screen, as though she was trying to wrap her head around it.

“Stop! You’ll accidentally tap on something,” you’re squealing at her, arms flailing out in an attempt to grab at your phone. She eventually hands it back to you and you’re sighing with relief before flopping back down onto your bed, fingers eagerly swiping up on the screen to make sure she didn’t accidentally like one of his posts from four months ago. 

“Are you crushing on Gojo Satoru?” Mina asks with her hands on her hips.

You meet her gaze with a hint of guilt. You haven’t kept Mina up-to-speed on a lot of the things that have happened within the past three weeks, including the night last week when Gojo stayed with you out on the road after you got your flat tire and then kissed you. It’s been about five days since then, and you feel that if you fessed up now, she’d be mad that you didn’t tell her right away. 

“I’m…” you start as you look at her and she raises an eyebrow at you that makes you sheepishly sit up on your bed, pretty much kneeling in front of her. “Maybe. A little bit? I don’t know.”

She looks at you with surprise before walking backwards and sitting onto her bed, facing you. She presses her lips together, deep in thought, and there’s an almost concerned expression on her face. “When did this develop?”

You end up explaining pretty much everything that has happened between you and Gojo as of recently, her face staying neutral through even the most surprising details, and by the time you’re done explaining and waiting for her to give a response, you realize you’re tensing your shoulders and holding your breath.

She sighs, sulking a little and her bed frame creaks underneath the mattress. “I can’t believe you kissed Gojo Satoru and you didn’t tell me about it, like, practically the second after it happened. Also, you never told me that’s why you called me that night! It makes sense now why your car has been in ‘service’ for almost an entire week. I feel so horrible you went through that and I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s okay,” you assure her with a small smile. “I’m fine. It was really nerve-wracking in the moment,” you say as you glance down at your hands, twiddling with your thumbs as the memories of that night flash through your mind. “But having him there really helped calm me down,” you admit in a hushed tone. When you look up at Mina, she wears a soft and knowing expression on her face.

“That’s good, I’m glad,” she murmurs and returns your smile with one of her own, but her eyes still look at you with caution.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just I don’t really know Gojo that well. From what you’re telling me, he seems like a nice guy,” she comments, “but the fact he’s been really diligent in following-through with this whole film photography assignment of yours makes me wonder where his head’s at with you.” She finishes her sentence, but you continue to watch her since you could tell she had more on her tongue. “I just hope he’s not messing with you.” 

“Messing with me?” you ask her. There’s a part of you deep inside that’s wondering the same thing, but the thought of having to confront that feeling in order to get an answer makes you want to stay in blissful ignorance instead. 

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and looks at you for a few seconds. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. It’s just a crush, right?” Her phone chimes with an alarm noise and she grabs it to turn it off. “Oh shoot, I’m going to be late for class,” she groans, leaping up off of her bed and stuffing all of her things on her desk into her bag. She gives you a goodbye over her shoulder just before she heads out of your shared room and then you’re all by yourself. 

Mina’s last question to you hangs in the air. You didn’t really know how you would’ve answered, because you didn’t know what you expected to come from your feelings, if anything at all. You’ve had feelings for plenty of other guys before, some turning into something more and others turning into nothing at all. Having feelings for someone wasn’t really something to worry about or complicate. 

You lay back down onto your bed with a sigh and go to the messages on your phone, clicking on Gojo’s name. It was so bizarre that he was now in your list of actual text messages since you had his number now, but the two of you have only exchanged a few texts since that night you last saw him. He sent over his practice schedule for the week, which was pretty packed and busy since their big game on the 28th was in just two days, and when you zoom in on the picture you see that he has practice in about ten minutes from now. You assumed that since he never texted you about it, they were probably just doing drills out on the field or some other exercises. But you missed him, and you wished that you did have an excuse to visit him. You didn’t care about tweaking your camera angles, fixing the exposure, or trying out different light sensitivities for your photos so they come out immaculate. You just wanted to see him again.

Tossing your phone to your side, suddenly frustrated by how mentally drained you feel, you look around the room and decide to tidy up a bit to distract yourself from all your emotions. As you start to pick things up off your desk and place them back on the shelf, you notice that you still have a netted bag full of washed laundry to fold. You dump all of the clothing onto your bed, consisting of sports bras, multiple pairs of jeans, your nice panties and also your grandma undies. One of the articles of clothing catches your eye, and you pull it out from the pile. It was Gojo’s jacket. 

Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you take in the sight of it, all the memories of that night flashing back into your head. You remember the chill of the air, the deep sound of his voice beside you, the gentle look in his eyes, his lips pressed against yours. Gojo had kissed you, so that had to have meant something, right? Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, an emotional decision because the two of you were alone, and it was dark, and it was cold, and you two were reveling in each other’s warmth, but it was still something he initiated. It was so brief, the moment cut so tragically short that you still find yourself craving more despite the fact it happened almost a week ago. Mina wasn’t home that night, and instead of spending the rest of it curled up by yourself like you ended up doing, you could’ve easily invited him inside. You wonder if he would’ve taken you up on the offer, and how far you two would’ve gone. And now, because you were imaging it, you find it in your heart that you wanted it. Before you know it, those feelings you swore you wouldn’t complicate started to feel complicated. If all the novels, movies, poems, and folklore of this world have been any indicator, when it comes to matters of the heart, it’s always impossible to defy. 

You bring the jacket to your chest, the fabric now smelling like the laundry detergent that all of your other clothes smell like, and no longer of him. It was the polite thing to do to wash it, but the absence of his scent on the soft material just made you miss him even more. 

Closing your eyes in disbelief at the thought that crosses your mind, you resolve to act now and deal with whatever comes later. If you wanted to see him, you were going to see him. Besides, wanting to hand his jacket back to him wasn’t so bad of an excuse to drop by, right? What if it was a deeply sentimental article of clothing that is agonizing for him to be apart from? (a/n. he doesn’t even realize you still have it lol)

You grab your tote bag as well as his jacket and head out of your apartment, down to the ground floor, and walk down the street until you reach the bus stop that takes you to campus. You make it there in about forty minutes, the bus dropping you off near the central area. As you start walking towards the expensive art sculpture near the practice fields, you pass by the school’s mini convenience store and the bottles of strawberry vanilla soda splayed out in the display case catches your eye. You then find yourself inside buying two cans. One for him, one for you. Maybe he’ll be open to hanging out after practice, and you could properly treat him to something nice for all of his help. 

Soon enough, you’re walking across the grassy hills that lead to the field. It was a slightly gloomy day today, with the sun only peaking through the clouds every five minutes or so, but it was still beautiful and something about the fresh air made your chest swell with ease. Just as you get closer, you notice Geto and Nanami walking together in your direction.

“Oh, it’s y/n!” you hear Geto say when you approach them.

You greet the two of them with a smile. “Hello, it’s nice to see you two. Are you finished with practice?”

“No, we’ve still got about two hours left, but we just finished a pretty intense set of drills so coach is giving us a fifteen,” Geto says through strained breathing, and you finally notice that the two of them looked sweaty and spent. “What’s that in your arms?”

You look down at the strawberry vanilla sodas you were carrying and then back up at the two of them. “Oh…I just wanted to bring some soda for mr. center forward, as a thanks for getting me referee permission to be on-field on Thursday.” 

Nanami crosses his arms across his chest and Geto’s eyes widen. “Damn, wish I had a cute girl go out of her way to bring me strawberry-flavored soda mid practice,” Geto muses.

“I don’t think Satoru deserves this level of kindness, y/n,” Nanami tells you with a shake of his head. Geto looks over at him with a wry expression before letting out a small laugh. 

You give the two of them a smile. “No, really, he’s been helpful. Is he out on the field?” you ask, standing on tiptoes to try and peer over their shoulders towards the field.

“Yeah, he is, I think he stayed back since Coach Yaga was yelling at him about something,” Geto answers and he takes a glance at his watch, “he usually doesn’t stick around to take the lecturing for longer than two minutes so he’s probably somewhere hanging around nearby.” 

“That’s good. Coach Yaga scares me,” you admit to the two of them, pretending to shiver at the thought of him yelling, and this earns a smile from Nanami. 

“He’s really not that scary of a guy, just pretends to be one,” Geto informs you then lets out an exhale and places his hands on his hips after fully regaining his breath. “So, you’re going to be on the field with us on Thursday? That’s awesome, please cheer for us. Also, you should come out to the house party the night before the game.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You guys still party before your big games?”

Geto laughs. “I always forget you’re not in a sorority. Yeah, we do, I think the frat just wants an excuse to go crazy and picks our game schedule to go off of. You’ve no idea how many of our players have been in massive shit by showing up hungover to games.” 

Nanami lets out a disgruntled noise. “It’s irresponsible, honestly.”

You give an apologetic laugh before fidgeting with the soda cans in your arms, eventually throwing them into your tote, and then peering over their shoulders once more as an impatient feeling washes over you, the desire from earlier to see Gojo consuming you in a way that was entirely distracting. Nanami seems to notice this as he uncrosses his arms and slightly nudges Geto with his elbow. Geto sends him a curious glance before looking back at you.

“Well, anyway. If you’re free tomorrow night, come by. Pre-game parties are usually pretty hype. Yuuji’s bouncing, so he’ll let you in,” Geto says to you, giving you a kind smile.

“Yeah, I’ll try to make it,” you say, returning his smile. The two of them walk past you and you continue to trek forwards until you reach the large hill that oversees the field. 

Once you’re at the top, your eyes immediately scan the field for Gojo, and you quickly spot him at the foot of the hill talking to some people. You notice the group surrounding him weren’t wearing athletic clothing of any sort, so you assumed they were just his friends. He had a bright smile on his face and just the sight of it created a warmth within you. As you begin to stumble down the hill, your legs hasty in their stride, you see him leaning down forward towards one of the girls in the group with a playful look on his face. The girl looks up at him with a tilt of her head and you hear feminine, high-pitched laughter in the air as she steps closer to him, swatting at his chest from something he says. He’s fully grinning at her now, and it’s so painfully obvious they’re flirting that the feeling in your chest that was so excited to see him quickly turns sour. 

He somehow catches you standing at the bottom of the hill in his periphery and his eyes widen. There’s a moment where you hesitate, but eventually take a deep breath and make your way through the crowd. A few within the group let out confused noises from the disruption and then you were standing right in front of Gojo. 

“Who’s this?” one of his friends asks, particularly annoyed since you had accidentally nudged him to the side in your stride. You could feel the wide eyes from the men and the curious glares from the women. 

Gojo’s standing there shocked, likely from the fact that he wasn’t expecting you to be here, and then glances around to the people in the group. “Oh, just someone I…” he starts, his facial expression softening slightly when he looks back at you, but you’re giving him a guarded expression, “...know.” 

Your mouth opens slightly in disbelief, before you quickly close it. It’s true that you didn’t really know what you and Gojo were at the moment, it’s possible you would’ve answered the same, but his description of the nature of your relationship with him still hurts. He could’ve at least said your name or introduced you. And your disappointment from his words made you realize an unsettling truth, which was that you did want more from him, and you weren’t sure if that was something he was interested in at all. 

The girl he was talking to earlier is glaring daggers at your side, and you suddenly feel suffocated surrounded by a group of people watching you with interest. The man in front of you, despite getting to know him for the better part of the past three weeks, started to feel like a stranger to you all over again. You shove his jacket to his chest, and he looks down at it with surprise before hesitantly grabbing onto it. 

“Just wanted to return your jacket,” you mumble to him, trying so hard to sound neutral and sane. “I washed it for you.”

You hear a few of the men surrounding you coo something suggestive, a few laughs making their way between them as the women in the group scoff in denial. You ignore them and keep your gaze on Gojo. He’s looking straight down at you and scanning your features, and you notice his face briefly contorts into one of guilt when he registers the disappointed look on your face. 

Reaching into your bag, you pause when you see the two cans of strawberry vanilla soda sitting at the bottom, the smiling cartoon mascot faces on the labeling staring up at you like some pitiful conscience. You reached in and grabbed one regardless, then extended it to Gojo. He blinks at it before looking up at you. When he doesn’t immediately grab it, you also shove it to his chest until he does. When his fingertips make contact with your hand as he takes it from you, the contact sends a shiver down your spine. 

You bite your lip, faltering before you speak again. “For your help. Officially even now.” Then you turn around and push through the strangers spectating the whole scene to make it over to the grassy hills. You vaguely hear Gojo call your name out from behind you, his voice quickly drowned out by the voices of those surrounding him as they continue conversation, and soon enough you’re out of sight over the hill. 

—

“So, you’re telling me that this guy goes out of his way to help you for this class assignment, in a way that’s unproportionate to the favor that you put in for him, he flirtatiously teases you any chance he gets, drives out late at night to stay with you when you’re stranded with a flat, has an earnest conversation with you about life, kisses you, diligently takes care of you until you’re home safe, and then when you run into him in front of his friends, he says you’re just someone he knows?” Mina’s recounting every single painful detail as she paces around in your shared room. “I know you both haven’t had a conversation about anything after that night, which is insane because you should’ve, but at least he could’ve said you were a friend?” 

You scoff from where you’re laid down on your bed. “I caught him sliding his hands up a girl’s top in the bathroom at that SAE party last week, and when he tried to explain the situation to me he said that he and that girl are just friends. So, by his definition, we’re definitely not friends.”

Mina sighs. “Honestly, y/n, I know he’s charming and he’s been nice to you, but he still has a reputation for being a player.” 

You look up at the ceiling, your pillow clutched in your arms for emotional support. “He almost looked like he didn’t even want me there. Like I was an unwelcome interruption. Some sort of nuisance.” You weren’t sure exactly how to read the expression he had on his face from your unexpected visit, but your brain had a habit of settling on the worst. 

Mina sits down at her desk, turning her chair to face you. You were fully sulking like a heart-broken teenager and you didn’t understand why. He wasn’t any sort of title to you, and you haven’t even known him for that long. Barely a couple weeks ago, you were still resolved to the fact that he was some sort of mystery. An urban legend around campus that you couldn’t believe you were talking to because people like him didn’t usually talk to people like you. 

“Why don’t you just ask him how he feels about you? Put an end to the guessing game. Be like ‘hey, jerk, I know it’s common-place for frat dudes to kiss girls like they’re a dime a dozen. But that’s not gonna fly with me, so fess up on your intentions’. Something like that,” Mina suggests, waving a finger in the air.

You glance at her annoyed. “Were you trying to do an impression of me? I don’t talk like that.”

“You kind of do, love,” she says with a smile on her face. 

You look back up at the ceiling. “...I don’t want to have that conversation with him. It’ll hurt my pride. He should’ve been the one asking me what we are now, since he’s the one that kissed me.” You turn to gauge her opinion at your words, but her expression isn’t giving any hints. “Is that petty? I feel like I’m being petty.”

“No, girl, I agree with you,” she says with a sigh, “that’s how it should be, but almost never ends up being the case.” She looks up at the ceiling briefly, a thought forming in her head, before looking down at you with a sly smile. 

“What?” you ask, already wearily anticipating her response.

“You want to know how to find out how he feels about you without asking him how he feels about you?” she says like it was some sort of sales pitch.

You turn onto your side and perch yourself up on your elbow, a little too interested. “How?”

She snaps her fingers. “Make him jealous.”

You look at her apprehensively. “Jealous?”

“I mean, that’s the foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you. Based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat,” she says with a playful shrug.

You flop down on the bed again. “Now that’s petty.” You hug your pillow to your chest again, considering the option. You didn’t even know if Gojo would feel jealous if you tried to make him jealous, it’s possible he wouldn’t even care at all if he saw you with another guy. 

“Yes, petty, but so what? We’re seniors in college, now’s our last chance to be petty. After we graduate, we’ve got to be fully functioning members of society,” she sighs, “you only get to be a petty college chick once.”

“How would I make him jealous?” you ask, still dwelling on her suggestion.

“Well, SAE is having that pre-game party tonight, he’s definitely going to be there. It’s your chance,” she says, tapping at her phone to glance at the time. 

You hum to yourself. The mature part of you is telling you that it’s a ridiculous idea, but the angel on your shoulder that has weathered the pain of all your confusing feelings as of lately was starting to play devil’s advocate. After a minute’s silence, you cover your face with your hand and groan. “Oh god.”

Mina looks up at you again. “What?”

“I’m gonna do it,” you say, swinging your feet over to the edge of the bed so you’re sitting up, pillow still hugged to your chest as you look at her. “I’m going to go find out how he really feels about me.”

Mina’s smiling at you and hops onto her feet. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for the toxic version of you to make her appearance.”

There was still a couple of hours before the party, so you take a shower and spend some time doing your hair as well as makeup. Wearing your robe, you walk over to your dresser and open it to pull out a pair of jeans when Mina looks over at you and sighs. You send her a look and she makes her way over to you, nudging you to the side with her hip and shoving your jeans back into the drawer.

“You’re not wearing jeans to this party,” she groans, “do I seriously have to teach you everything?” Mina starts shifting through the clothes you had hung up on your hangers, eyes landing on something that was tucked away to the side. She pulls out your black dress, the one that had long, skin tight sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and the short hem that barely fell to the middle of your thighs. She pats at the soft and silky material, pulling on it in an attempt to smooth out one of the wrinkles. “Oh, yes, honey. This will definitely do.”

“It’s wrinkled,” you say in a poor attempt to get out of wearing it. 

“Nothing my straightener set at 350 degrees won’t fix,” she says to you with a wink.

It takes Mina three minutes to prepare your dress for you while you anxiously pace around the room, fidgeting to yourself, and she eventually hands it to you to wear. The dress had an A-line silhouette cinched at the waist and the top half was tight, so you decided not to wear a bra with it. Just as you’re about to pull on a pair of biker shorts underneath to cover a bit more since the short fabric was hardly doing much, Mina sends you another disappointed look. 

“y/n, please, you’re killing me here,” she says. “To make him jealous, you’ve gotta get other guys to look at you. That might mean being a bit risque with the attire tonight.”

You sulk your shoulders before sighing and tossing your biker shorts back into your closet. You turn around to face the mirror, petting down the fabric of your dress over you and tousling with your hair before gasping a little as you take in your entire appearance. You looked good, and Mina’s playful cat-call from behind you only gave you a greater kick of confidence. 

“Love it, cute but sexy at the same time,” she says with a smile. “It’s your turn to be the hottie at the party.”

You two decide to take an Uber to the frat strip, arriving at the host house close to 10pm, and you can already hear the loud chanting and music inside. As you make your way up to the driveway, a gust of wind breezes by and your hands immediately hold down the fabric of your dress in an attempt to not flash the group of people walking behind the two of you. Mina looks over at you with a mischievous smile. You make eye contact with Yuuji at the entrance and he straightens his posture when he sees you and Mina approaching.

“Hello, ladies. I see we’ve switched roles here tonight,” Yuuji says with a tip of his head. “Bombshell friend,” he gestures to you, “and-”

“If you call me a casual tomboy, I can’t guarantee I won’t smack you,” Mina says to him.

Yuuji blinks at her. “Head on in,” he mumbles and you two walk past him.

It hits you as you walk inside that this is the third SAE party that you’ve been to within the past three weeks, and yet the atmosphere still surprises you every time. The music was loud, but at this one, the people chanting was even louder. You notice there were posters and flags with the school’s colors and symbols plastered up and hanging from the staircase, as well as pinned up jerseys on the walls that looked a lot like the ones that the soccer players wear during matches. Oh, and derogatory insults for the opposing school were drawn across all the decorations.

“I’m going to go find Todo,” Mina says to you with excitement and then she’s skipping off into the heart of the party, leaving you alone.

You sigh and fidget with the sleeves of your dress, looking around the party, your heart beating fast in your chest at the prospect that you’ll lock eyes with Gojo but you don’t see him anywhere. As you walk inside, you notice that people are looking at you, and when you make eye contact with some, you notice a lot of them were men, and the attention has you itching for a drink. You quickly make your way into the kitchen and are satisfied when you see the insane amount of options that you can reach for on the island. You grab a White Claw, crack the can open and when you turn around, you jump a little from the sight of a person in front of you.

“Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man in front of you says with an apologetic look on his face, and you recognize him as the one that was bouncing the last SAE party that you went to last weekend. “Just going to reach around you to grab…that.” He reaches around you to grab an entire bottle of tequila, his arm brushing against yours and his eyes meet yours with a smile on his face. “I remember you from last week. You’re stunning by the way, what’s your name?”

You tell him and he’s nodding his head slowly, a cheeky look on his face that you’re used to seeing when guys attempt small talk to distract from the other less-than-innocent things they have floating around in their heads. “Nice, I’m Ryota,” he says as he adjusts the snap-back he was wearing on his head, “you, uh, in a sorority?” He leans back against the kitchen counter in front of you and you wonder if grabbing the tequila was just an excuse to talk to you.

You find yourself turning away from him slightly, taking a huge gulp of the White Claw you had in your hands to realize that 8% ALC./VOL was not going to be enough to get you through the night, so you turned to face him again. “No, I’m not. Are you going to drink all that tequila by yourself or are you looking to share?”

He smirks at you. “There’s enough for two.” 

You and this man you met literally two minutes ago cheers a few shots, throwing them back, and you notice that he does them almost effortlessly while you’re wincing from the fact that it’s been a long time since you’ve had hard liquor. He’s chuckling at your reactions as your face scrunches up from your third shot and you wave your hand in front of your face from the burn. A few people that walk in and out of the kitchen periodically give the two of you amused looks before walking back out into the loud party nearby. 

“Can’t handle your alcohol?” Ryota asks and you sigh, your face already feeling flushed.

“I can, I swear,” you whine.

“Here, wanna?” he says to you as he hands you another shot and then he holds his outstretched arm up. You think he’s trying to cheers, so you tap his shot glass, and then he’s laughing. “No, hold your arm out.” You do as he says and he holds his arm against yours and soon enough he’s taking a step closer to you and you’re interlocking your arms at the elbow. You let out a small gasp from his proximity but his eyes on you are unwavering. He brings his shot glass to his lips and you do the same and then you both tip your heads back, the burn in your throat making you unwind your arm from him and shake your head until you’re leaning back against the island counter and you hear him laugh again in front of you.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls out that instantly sobers you up from the four shots of tequila you so valiantly threw back. 

The two of you turn your heads to look at the source of the voice, and you see Gojo standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him and you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest, still so shocked at just how breathtaking he was anytime you saw him. He was holding an empty bottle of alcohol in his hands. You straighten your posture but Ryota still leans against the counter nonchalantly.

“Hey, what’s up dude. Sorry, I was about to circle back with more tequila, but I got caught up in here,” Ryota says and flashes you a smile. “Do you know y/n here?” 

You observe Gojo, who wears a tense expression in response to hearing his words, and then he locks eyes with you. A look of surprise swiftly passes across his face as he takes in your appearance, and you feel as if you're practically burning under his gaze. He looks back at Ryota and furrows his brow. 

“Yeah, I do,” he mutters and rudely pushes right in between the two of you to make it to the fridge. “Seems like you do, too.” 

Ryota seems to pick up on something from Gojo's tone that you don’t, because suddenly he’s standing up straight from the counter and turns to look at you with a contemplative expression. "I'll bring the tequila, or what's left of it I guess, out there," he mentions to Gojo, excusing himself with a brief glance in your direction. As he leaves and turns around the corner, a noticeable weight hangs in the air from how you and Gojo are alone in the kitchen now.

You lean back against the island, reaching for the White Claw you had opened earlier and take another sip. There was a muted buzz lingering in your head, and it felt good, offering a pretty welcome distraction from the fact that Gojo was standing just a few feet away from you, searching for something in the fridge. When he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, he closes the fridge door with a louder-than-normal slam, startling you, and then he turns around to face you.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” he declares with an edge to his voice, and you’re already rolling your eyes.

“Sorry, pal, should I send you a notarized attendance letter three business days in advance so I don’t end up cock-blocking you in a bathroom again?” you sneer at him. 

He leans back against the fridge, facing you as he crosses his arms across his chest. Damn it, don’t stare at the muscles. Don’t do it. “What’s with the attitude?” 

“I don’t have an attitude, this is just how I talk to my acquaintances,” you retort as you take another sip of your drink.

He takes a step forward to you, eyes shamelessly dipping to the neckline of your dress and then a little bit further to where the hem grazes your thighs. He places his palm on the counter behind you that you were resting back on and then he’s leaning closer to you, your grip on the can in your hand tightening. He was so close that you can’t think of anything but him. His eyes are on your lips when he speaks. “Are we just acquaintances?” 

You narrow your eyes at him, all of your anger from yesterday and earlier today resurfacing at his question as you look up at him straight in the eyes. “Yes, I’m only someone you know, right?”

He’s sighing and you can tell he wants to pull away from you to display his annoyance, but he stays right where he’s at. The hand that was placed on the counter slowly inches towards your waist until his thumb is brushing against the fabric of your dress just underneath your rib cage. He starts to draw slow circles on the material, pressing into your skin occasionally, and you‘re breathless from the contact. “I’m getting the hint that you’re mad at me about something, but it’s hard to care when you’re looking like this.”

You let out a scoff at his words. You’ve spent the past two days suffering from his behavior, and he’s trying to get away with it by practically seducing you. But there was also a part of you that was entirely aroused by how little he seemed to care about your attitude and how much more he seemed to care about the way you were worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “Looking like what?”

The thumb that was pressing against the clothed skin of your waist retreats and his hand moves back to where it was before, laid flat on the counter next to you, except this time his other arm reaches out for the surface too. And now he’s got you caged-in, looking down at you like he’s trying really hard to not get even closer. “Looking hot as fuck? You’re kind of vain for making me say it out loud.” 

You’re effectively dazed out of your goddamn mind at this point, using all the self-control you’ll have for the rest of a lifetime to not grab onto his shirt and pull him into you, all inhibitions lost to the wind. You wouldn’t even care if anyone walked in, you just needed him on you, touching you, kissing you right now. But there’s a tiny part of you that’s still mad at him, and fortunately that tiny part of you pulls through. “If you think trying to seduce me is going to make me not angry anymore, you’re out of luck.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you. You think this is me trying to seduce you? If that’s so, I’m starting to worry you won’t be able to take it,” he whispers that last part so suggestively that you’re weak in the knees from his words. He seemed so different, entirely preoccupied by taking in the sight of every inch of you in front of him that any sense of shame or guilt has left his body, and he’s just looking at you with desire. 

“Satoru…” is all you manage to say as you look up at him, your thighs clenching from the arousal of just his presence surrounding you. 

You see him close his eyes for a second and exhale before he opens them, his pupils all the way dilated and wild when he looks at you again. “Yeah?” he responds, his head dipping down towards yours slightly, lips just inches from yours, like he’s waiting for your permission to act. 

“I…” you start, blinking up at him through your lashes, “...I was having a lot of fun earlier throwing back shots of tequila, and you kind of ruined that. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to it.” You place a hand on his chest, his gaze dropping to it in surprise as he watches you push him away from you all the way until his back hits the fridge with a thud.

“What the fuck?” he utters, his face contorted into a confusion you found incredibly comical.

You press up against him, looking up with round eyes and innocence, and you feel him immediately tense up. “Also, very inappropriate to treat someone you barely know like that. I’ll let it slide, though.” 

The last thing you see before you turn away from him is his shocked expression, blinking at you with the rest of him practically motionless, and you skip out of the kitchen towards the main party happening around the corner out of his sight. 

There were bustling people, a few guys coming up to you to talk to you, but you ignore them until you spot Geto, Nanami, some of the other soccer players, and a bunch of other people huddled around in a circle. You tap on Geto’s shoulder and he turns around to face you.

“Oh! Hey, what’s up, you made it,” Geto greets you, pulling you in for a brief hug which surprises you but was also pleasantly received as you hugged him back with a friendly pat. You could smell the alcohol from him. When he pulls away from you, he’s beaming. “We’re all doing rounds of shots, wanna join?”

“Oh my god, the words I’ve been wanting to hear all night,” you say and you join the circle, a bunch of people cheering as they usher you towards the center and you grab a shot glass from the small round table. A group of maybe fifteen people all raise their shot glasses up in the air, you included, and say some incoherent, non-rehearsed words of luck for the soccer team’s game tomorrow before everyone throws back their shots. You’re squealing and jumping up and down in excitement with Geto and watch as Nanami pretends to throw back his shot before dumping its contents into a red plastic solo cup in his hand instead.

“This is so much fun!” you’re yelling. “Can we do another?”

“Hey! New girl wants to do another,” one of the frat dudes calls out, which is followed by cheers and then messy pouring of tequila all over the table as people extend their shot glasses out to be filled. 

Two, three, four, eventually five is your limit until you wander away from the circle, entirely tipsy at this point, over to where people were dancing in front of the DJ’s booth. You bump into some couples that were grinding up on each other, your drunk conscience shamelessly watching their movements, and then accidentally bump into a man so hard that it almost sends you falling back onto the ground but he grabs your arm and keeps you upright. His drink spills a bit out of his hand and onto your dress, making you giggle like a freak. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he’s yelling to you over the music.

“No, I’m sorry,” you yell back, and then you notice he’s wearing a jacket that mimics the patterns of the school’s soccer jersey and has an embroidered player’s number on the chest. It hits you that you’ve seen him on the field before briefly during the practices you’ve been to. “Are you on the soccer team?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says and he tells you his name but the music is way too loud to hear it, and you’re also sort of drunk at this point to register it anyways. But he was cute, and you decided you wanted to dance with him, and dance away is exactly what you do. 

When he twirls you around and presses his chest against your back, your line of sight falls straight ahead to where you see Gojo sitting on a couch. Your heart sinks in your chest when you see a girl place a hand on his thigh and lean towards him, practically sitting in his lap, but the look on his face tells you he’s entirely distracted by something else. His eyes search the room for a few seconds, and when they land on you, he stills. When he tilts his head up to peer behind you and sees who you were dancing with, a look of shock crossed his face. 

For fucks sake, you wouldn’t flirt with one of his teammates, right?

In your drunk, hazy mind, Mina’s words flash by in your head. The foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you is based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat.

You turn around, reach up and pull the man you were dancing with down towards you, and you kiss him. The man hesitates, clearly surprised, before moving his lips against yours and just when you feel his hands make their way to your waist, you’re being yanked away from him by the arm. When you turn to look at the perpetrator, you see a very viscerally angry-looking Gojo in front of you and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god, he looked pissed. If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under right now. 

He pulls you by your forearm over to the stairs, and you’re protesting, trying to yank away from his harsh grip, but he doesn’t budge as he takes you up to the second floor and just when you two have made it into the secluded hallway, he pushes you up against the wall, caging you into it with his body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he scowls at you, leaning in closer, tone so searing it’s enough to set you on fire.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you yell back at him, anger rising within you.

“You’re seriously turning out to be a real fucking pain in the ass,” he hisses the words, his eyes darting across your face before settling on your lips.

“Why do you care? I’m just-” you start but he interrupts you when his lips crash down on yours, taking you by surprise. His kiss was hungry, ravenous, all-consuming. So different from that night when he kissed you for the first time with nothing but tenderness. This one felt like he wanted to take everything from you, leaving nothing behind. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer to him, and your arms slide up past his shoulders, locking behind his neck, and he’s groaning against your mouth before biting at your bottom lip. When you grant him access, he deepens the kiss and the taste of him intoxicates you.

“If you imply that you’re just a stranger to me one more fucking time,” he’s growling against your mouth, “I’ll make sure we get real well acquainted with eachother against this wall right now.” His hands find the flesh underneath your ass and he easily hoists you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. “Ask me if I give a fuck if anyone sees.”  

“Oh my god,” you’re gasping, his words hitting you straight to your core, and when you feel his clothed erection pressed against the flimsy cloth of your panties, the self-resolution you once had was all but a distant memory. “Satoru, bathroom, please, not here.”

When you tip your head back, giving him access to your neck and he immediately indulges, peppering kisses down your skin, you roll your hips against his and he squeezes the flesh of your ass hard to reprimand the motion before he takes you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, then setting you up on the counter. 

His kisses get lower until he’s at your collarbone, and he pulls you forward towards him on the surface to where you’re sitting at the edge and he has his hands digging at the soft flesh of your thighs. You’re squirming in his grasp, gripping onto his shirt for any sort of purchase. When his kissing reaches the neckline of your dress and his finger hooks the fabric, threatening to pull it down, he looks at you. 

“Please,” you ask him simply.

He raises an amused eyebrow, pulling down the fabric slowly to just above where your nipples would be set free. “You think you’re in a position to ask for anything from me right now?”

“Oh my fucking god I swear, if you don’t yank my dress down, I’ll choke you,” you threaten him. 

“Careful, pretty, I might be into that,” he chides, pressing a kiss to your chest.

You grab the wrist of the hand that was still hooked inside your cleavage, and pull it down harshly so your tits are set free and he leans away from you to take in the sight. He’s mesmerized for a moment, his hand wrapping around your rib cage and thumb poking the softness from the side before it eventually reaches your nipple and starts to play with it. “God, you’re so beautiful. Remind me why we didn’t do this the first night we met?”

When his mouth latches onto your nipple, you tip your head back with a moan and you’re not able to come up with an answer to his question. Because he was right, it was insane that the two of you didn’t. Your hand runs through the short hair of his undercut at the nape of his neck and then grips at the soft strands a bit higher as he sucks and licks at your breasts. You wrap your legs around him tighter, pulling his hips to you, and from the edge of the counter you start to roll your wet panties against the bulge at his front to get relief. He groans against your chest before pulling away. 

“You need to relax. Real fuckin’ desperate now compared to when you were pushing me away in the kitchen thirty minutes ago,” he scolds, his lips finding yours again and one of his hands trails up the skin of your thigh. You open your legs even wider for him sweetly and he smiles against your lips, his fingers brushing the skin of your inner thigh and then finally pressing against your clothed core. You instantly jolt, entirely stimulated by the contact, and he pulls away from the kiss to watch you. 

“S-Satoru…” you whimper because it’s all you can manage to say, your hips pushing forward, craving more of his touch, but he withdraws from your heat all together and steps away from you, his grip on your hips dragging you forward until you step down from the counter and you’re standing in front of him, looking up like you don’t even know how to breathe unless he talks you through it. He turns you around to where you’re facing the mirror, and it’s the first time you take a look at how messed up he’s gotten you. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, eyes a little teary from the lust consuming you. Your tits that appeared plush and perked by the haphazard way the neckline of your dress was tucked underneath them were glistening with his saliva and you felt like you were about to go insane at the sight. You take a look at his face in the reflection, and he too looked like he was about to go insane at the sight. 

“Bend over the counter,” he demands with a rough voice, but you don’t have much of a choice since he’s pushing down on your back anyways. You’ve risen up onto your tiptoes to accommodate the position and he lazily flips the fabric of your dress up over your ass before his hands hook into the side of your panties at your hips, pulling them down, and you feel the fabric practically peel off of you from how wet you were. And then he was on his knees behind you.

“Fuck, why didn’t we do this the first night we met?” he laments, marveling at the sight of you bent over for him.

“You already asked that question,” you mumble. 

“Cause it still doesn’t make any fucking sense to me,” he sighs and then he drags his index finger into your folds, from your entrance that was sopping wet all the way down to your clit. You’re wiggling, pushing your hips out towards him, and you hear him let out a low, guttural sound in his chest at the sight. His finger experimentally pushes into you and you’re gasping, hand slamming against the mirror.

“You’re so sensitive. Need a second?” he asks like he’s genuinely looking out for you, and yet he doesn’t wait before pushing another finger into you regardless. 

“Mhh..n-no, just need your tongue,” you say through a shaky breath, panting from where you were on the counter. 

He groans at your request and pulls his fingers out of you, instantly making you whine, before giving you a different reason to whine when his tongue presses against your clit.

Your mind was going insane, still registering the shock that this was happening as you moaned from the feeling of his tongue on you, mouth latching on and sucking harshly at your sensitive core that has you writhing and grasping onto anything you could find for purchase. The man that was making a mess at the most intimate part of you right now seemed so different from that kind man last week that pressed that chaste kiss to your lips. This was like you had just summoned the devil and he was on his knees behind you.

You make a mental note to never doubt any of Mina’s advice ever again.

When his hungry lapping at your clit turns into slow, lazy licks against your folds, you whimper above him and attempt to grind against his mouth so his tongue is where you want it. “Mm…p-please, stop teasing, I wanna cum.” 

He pulls his mouth from you and you feel how slick he’s made you, nothing but a mess of your arousal and his spit, before he pushes two fingers inside you and stretches you out inside with them. “But do you deserve to cum, is the question, sweetheart,” he drawls, curling his fingers inside and pressing on that spot that had your walls fluttering around him and building that tight knot in your lower tummy. 

“Yes, I do, fuck,” you’re moaning as he slowly starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, “less talking, more licking my clit.”

His other hand finds your clit, fingers beginning to rub agonizingly slow circles, and you can feel the texture of his calluses across every single nerve ending of the aching bud. “What was that, baby? You want me to be stingy with my tongue? Alright, whatever you say, princess,” he sighs it like he has no choice but to be a fucking dick right now.

“No, oh my god, don’t be stingy with your tongue,” you cry out, your cheek pressing up against the mirror from the sheer desperation of wanting a release, “I’ll kill you.” 

“Can’t make you cum if I’m dead,” he purrs. “God, your pussy’s going crazy right now, clenching around my fingers like it’s got a mind of its own. Can’t wait to fuck you,” he’s groaning, “so sweet, so tight, so wet. Exactly how I imagined it.”

“Y-You’ve imagined this?” you whimper to him when he starts to fully fuck you with his fingers. 

“So many fucking times,” he grumbles, his other hand now gripping your ass and thumb spreading you more open. You blush from how exposed you felt to him, but the noises he was making from the deepest part within his chest made you realize he was a freak for it. He pulls his fingers out of you and then uses both hands to spread your folds apart as he laps at the wetness that was practically dripping from your entrance. “What your world would be like if this was your little ‘terms and conditions’ favor instead.”

His tongue latches onto your clit again and your knees almost buckle. “M-Make me cum and maybe I’ll finally regret the fact that it wasn’t,” you say to him, desperate to coax something feral from him that finally grants you release of the tension building at your core. You’re unable to stay still, squirming and squealing above him, so hopelessly at his mercy.

“Say you’ll never kiss another guy except me ever again,” you hear him grumble with his face still buried in your cunt.

“w-what…” you say, exhaling incredulously, “S-Satoru…you don’t make any sense…we’re not even dat-”

“Say it, and I’ll let you cum,” he tells you simply, pulling his mouth from you again just when you felt like you were about to topple over and you’re about ready to kick him in the face at this point. You try to look over your shoulder to read his facial expression but when his fingers take their position over your clit and he starts to draw stars, you quickly give up and rest your forehead on the mirror. Oh god, this was good, if he just kept going-

As if he could read your mind, he pulls his fingers from your clit entirely, leaving your core agonizingly empty from any part of his touch, and it makes you gasp. You’ve never felt more betrayed in your life.

“Oh my god, okay okay okay!” you’re screaming, sticking your ass out to him and he’s chuckling at the sight. “I’ll never kiss another guy again! Fucking hell, Satoru, please, just make me cum,” you beg, whimpering and almost crying, your thighs twitching from the urge to clench together for some form of relief in his absence.

He seems satisfied by your begging, because he immediately grabs your ass with both hands, one of his thumbs pushing shallowly into your drenched entrance, and then his mouth finds your clit again. You close your eyes shut, and you could feel that you were just seconds away from cumming as he simultaneously sucks and licks relentlessly on the sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s when he groans against your center with such a primal frequency, sending shockwaves of vibrations to your center and throughout your entire body, that you fall apart for him and you come undone so violently that your knees entirely give out, and you’re screaming his name. He wraps an arm around your legs to keep you from falling as you squirm on the counter, your walls pulsing and clenching, hips twitching, and then you’re finally calming down. You lay blissfully on the surface, head down, breathing heavily with soft, remnant whimpers leaving your lips.

You hear Gojo let out a short exhale from behind you that almost sounds like he’s in disbelief. When you turn slightly to look back at him, you see he’s palming himself through his pants and looking directly at your cunt. “You’re dripping onto the floor, fuck.” He catches a drop of slick, clear arousal as it falls from your entrance, immediately bringing it to his tongue and licking it off his finger before standing up. 

You barely manage to push your upper body up so that you’re standing, shaking arms working overtime to hold yourself up, and he comes up behind you to press his chest against your back, looking at you in the mirror. He was breathing heavily too, his mouth near your ear and his eyes lidded with lust. You reach your arm up and behind him to grab at the soft tufts of hair at the back of his head, your back arching from the motion, and he groans as he pushes his clothed erection against your ass, head dropping close to your shoulder from the pleasure and he presses a kiss to your skin. The image in front of you, with his broad shoulders and frame completely engulfing yours whole, your hips slightly rocking forwards and pushing against the counter from his indulgent grinding behind you, his hand reaching up to pinch and play with your nipple, it was all so erotic that you were already aching for more. He effectively finger-fucked, licked, and sucked the anger out of you, and that was a dangerous fact. 

His fingers grazed up the side of your waist that the fabric of your dress still clung tightly to, and he loosely held onto you, sighing against the back of your neck which sent shivers down your spine. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “So pretty like this. Turn around and face me, baby, reflection’s not enough,” he says to you and you do as he says, twirling around. His eyes take in the sight of you, his thumb coming up to press at the soft flesh of your breast and you can see it in his eyes that he was worshipping you. 

You finally take in the entire image of his appearance. His chest was heaving, hair disheveled, shirt was wrinkled at the front from when you were grabbing onto it earlier. There’s a crease to his brow when he looks at you, and you realize that this is not the first time you’ve seen him look exactly like this in a party bathroom. Except the last time, it was from reasons other than your own.

And then there’s that sinking feeling in your chest again.

Just when you observe that spark of intense lust in his eyes, pupils dilated like wild, see it flash through his mind that he thinks he’s about to get lucky with you tonight, you find yourself pushing him away from you for the second time tonight. You’ve got him with his back pressed up against the wall while he looks down at you with confusion, and this time there’s desperation and panic there too.

You look up at him with a discerning softness, and all those tender feelings you’ve been experiencing for the past week come crashing down on you all at once, but your heart aches with their memory. When his eyes study your face, there’s a brief second where he’s surprised to see the way you’re looking at him, and his jaw clenches slightly. 

“Thanks, I really needed this,” you whisper to him, hand patting his chest reassuringly as you try to keep your composure in front of him despite the hollow feeling in your chest, “gave me some clarity. Don’t follow me.” And then you step away from him, pull your panties back up into place, adjust the neckline of your dress up over to cover your chest, then you make your way to exit.

“What? Wait-” he scrambles, sounding stunned from behind you as you open the bathroom door, walk right out into the hallway and close the door behind you, not all the way but just enough so you were out of his line of sight.

You sigh to yourself for a second as you step to the side, fixing at your hair, then take a deep breath as you walk down the hall. It registers in your mind that he listens, never following after you. 

a/n. reader is soooo messy for doing this to him right before his big game lol i'm like scared for her even though i'm literally the author hahha. i hope to see you in the next one! much love

➸ take me to chapter seven!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice (decided to tag all interacts too just so it's not missed if that's ok! love you all sm)

[hoony2k]

BEWITCHED AT FIRST SIGHT

It's supposed to be a simple task, film another challenge but...why does does his body feel numb, hands shake like jelly and heart beats like crazy?

PAIRING: OT7

GENRE: fluff, angst

WORD COUNT: 2k total

WARNINGS: none

NOTE: hii! It's finally here after eons! I'm finally satisfied with it, this was so fun to write. My favourite is hee's part <3 hope it lived up to your expectations, sorry for the wait. Enjoy :)

Requested. Masterlist

Part 4 of idol!enha x idol! Series

★ HEESEUNG:

One look and he knows what the heart wants.

Spring wedding, open area near sea, 3-tier vanilla and chocolate cake-

Heeseung’s always been a man who follows his plan so as he approaches, he begins to slow his walk and make himself as charismatic as possible. He pretends he doesn’t want to giggle as he observes how you quickly check him out. Barely noticeable, so swift that one blink and someone would miss it. Thankfully Heeseung was looking, waiting for your reaction. Your expression remains neutral, pretend to be busy fixing your belt.

Heeseung smiles like he’s won the lottery. Of course, it’d be more fun if you pretend you’re uninterested.

After a greeting that shouldn’t be so casual but is, Heeseung’s heart swells with pride seeing how you’re not backing down, keeping up the act but giving him an opening, letting the bait flutter near him but not too close.

“Do you want to rehearse?”, he asks. You barely glance at him and look at his manager but he knows who you’re speaking to. “I was thinking we’d do it in one take”. He shrugs his shoulders. You’re so close that his coat brushes your bare shoulder. You don’t take a step back. Neither does he.

The manager gives the two of you a confused look. “If we take the perfect first take, sure”.

You shine a million-watt smile at her, lips pink with glitter and gloss stretch to show off your teeth. Then, you turn to Heeseung and straighten your shoulders, trying to appear taller than you are yet you still crane your neck to look at him. Your pretty smile is gone but your eyes speak to him instead, daring and bold.

"Are you ready?"

Good thing Heeseung has always loved a good challenge.

★ JAY:

He doesn't think too much about it, it's just a small challenge, greet the person, teach them the dance, bonus points if they already know it and then actually film it and leave. He came mentally prepared to follow the same protocol he usually did when they filmed with female idols.

Although he did not expect to be swept off his feet the moment he heard your laughter as he turned and entered the hall where it was to take place.

Definity is mentally unprepared to see someone so ethereal that for a solid second, he has to pause his walk. His legs seem to be glued to the floor. All he can think of is how he needs to impress you on the first encounter, he has to make sure you keep thinking about him the way he knows he won’t be able to stop replaying your laughter in his head.

However, it's the first time Jay ever felt like this, he’s not sure how to approach it. His hands shake not because he's going on stage for the first time. The tip of his ears feel red and not because he's eaten spicy fried chicken. His tongue feels heavy, his mind scattered with nervousness and not because he's mentally unprepared. He knows what to do- film a challenge of his comeback song, the song and dance steps that have been engraved in his mind.

But when you look at him with those sweet welcoming eyes, Jay knows he’s gone. He stands next to you while his manager speaks but ahh!! he thinks of how he needs your number to be able to feel like he’s crossed the distance between you two.

You turn to address him but he interrupts you with a greeting, voice wavering.

There’s a pause, and confusion in the air but thankfully before it could get any awkward, you cackle and everything is okay again. You stretch a hand out and when Jay encloses it, he can't help but compare the difference in size.

You give him a teasing smile, “how are you?”

He’s not making it out alive.

★ JAKE:

he's not someone that actively watches performances of other groups online but he read up on your profile before meeting you.

Jake knows the image the site uploaded doesn't do you justice because it didn't capture the mole on your face, the delicate curve of your eye or the puzzled look in your eyes as you nod in the conversation.

He's able to recognise his feelings immediately, they're too dangerous. Alarms are blaring in his head and he needs to bottle this up before it fizzes out and he has to explore the sensation in his fingertips.

So that's what he does, he greets you with a big jake sim smile and asks about your day and if you ate.

Your eyes crinkle in glee and thankfully you respond with the same joy as him. Though he ignores how you sound even better in real life. His brain tells him award show performances will never be the same again- he needs to experience you singing live. But before that, he needs to film the challenge.

His manager asks him if he's ready, the unsaid "You good?" is loud for Jake but he replies with another smile. Larger and more confident. He tells himself he won't lose himself in the act- he can't risk it.

Then, he chooses to surprise his manager and himself but moving his entire body towards you and addressing you "Let's do our best!"

You clap in agreement, more motivated than before and Jake almost feels bad. You give him a bright thumbs up and tell him you look forward to his comeback, how sweet venom raised the bar for you. These aren't empty words, he sees the glimmer in your eyes.

Jake fears that he might have been too convincing with his friendly act and now you'll look for him in the halls the way he will try not to do the same.

The challenge is filmed smoothly and time passes by far too quickly much to his distaste. If it was up to him, he'd freeze this moment. Get himself stuck in a time loop with you so he could have eternity to soak in your presence, your confidence, your being.

But it's not up to Jake, it never has and right now he hasn't reached his peak. There are other precious people tied to his career, he tells his heart. It's better if he leaves the interaction here, in the past, ignoring the what-ifs and focusing on how to politely say goodbye and good luck. Focus on how to keep you at a safe distance in the future and ignore the guilt he feels.

★ SUNGHOON:

Sunghoon is aware of the effect he has on people. He’s learned to grow accustomed to how people stutter and can’t hold eye contact with him but he’s never been the one who goes weak in the knees- until today.

It’s supposed to be a simple, quick challenge filming, except it’s everything but that because one looks at you and he can’t stop replaying your shy laugh in his head. He’s rendered speechless. He offers you a ‘hello” nod that he hopes you don’t find disrespectful in your first encounter. He prays it isn’t the last. It’s as if fate brought karma upon him for accidentally leading people on. You don’t even look at him while the manager speaks and he can feel his heart twist.

Sunghoon has never wanted someone to glance at him so badly, so desperately.

“I can teach you”, is what he says, so slowly that his voice catches you off guard. You look bashful again, embarrassed almost and he regrets speaking. Do you like his voice? It didn’t crack even once.

You scratch your cheek, “There’s just one move I’m confused about”. Sunghoon can’t help the huge smile that escapes him. “Want to go over it together before we practise?”

He steps a foot closer, everything is beginning to blur, he can’t hear the murmurs of the nearby conversations, he can’t see anyone but you, not even the managers. Your perfume smells so soft, he wants to drown in it. it’s just you and the confidence in your eyes.

You give him a firm nod and Sunghoon knows the ambiguity behind it.

“Sure, why not?”, you say intending to prolong the meeting.

This time when he smiles, it’s not at your response but at the future he knows you see with him.

★ SUNOO:

He's genuinely so so excited to be here and film another challenge, he loves doing challenges and meeting potential friends. However, when you enter the room, he flashes a knowing smile. there’s a friend to lovers already in the works in his mind.

Sunoo is so bubbly throughout the filming, that it makes you wonder if his cheerful comments are subtly patronizing you. Remembering the first couple of steps isn’t a hard task but he compliments you as if you can solo the whole dance. After you get used to his presence and comments, only then do you realise that there is not a hint of malice or ill intent behind his words and actions, he genuinely wants you to feel comfortable and elt down your guard.

It’s a sweet gesture, one that you’re not accustomed to which is why Sunoo is so careful to not say anything that could be misinterpreted. He tells himself he only feels like he has to protect you because he wants to befriend you.

does he find you pretty? Sure, you’re an idol you’re bound to be pretty. It’s not that big of a deal but as soon as the atmosphere turns warm, with you and the manager exchanging jokes like old friends, he can’t help but wonder if he wants to be friends…or if is there something more his heart wants.

He knows he won’t be satisfied by the line between friends but the ambuity he feels doesn’t scare him. It makes him wonder what the future may hold for you. If you will invite him to film with him. It would be good PR and marketing, it would be something fans would want after seeing you dance to sweet venom. It would be something Sunoo would love- to meet you again. On camera, off camera, it didn’t matter.

But he won’t ponder on the what ifs, he won’t let himself second guess his actions when he asks for your number, and he won’t think if you find him charming as you type in your number. He’ll let the relationship take its natural course and hopefully begin something romantic with you.

★ JUNGWON:

he’s gone a good couple of years locking his heart away, never letting it think too much while he gazes at idols performing. He doesn’t let himself think about other idols unless it’s with a sense of inspiration or admiration. He almost perfected rejecting affection but all his hard work goes down the drain when he sees you.

You’re not even doing anything unusual, just talking to him like any decent person would. You ask him about his day and then drop a “let's work hard!” with a thumbs up and immediately fail at the first take.

It shouldn’t be so endearing watching you practise the same step over again and again but he can hear his heart rattle the cage.

“Put less pressure in the swing”, he advises and has to stop himself from holding your arm mid-dance. He clenches his fist instead and lets a dimple show. You glance at your arm and then back at him.

“I didn’t think about that”, you confess, a bit appalled, “Is that how you do it?”

The question makes him pause and wonder if it is how they all do it. He thinks of Ni-ki and then himself and gives a firm nod, but you don’t seem satisfied, the furrow in your delicate brows doesn’t leave. So you do something that shatters Jungwon’s world, breaks the cage he sweat blood and tears to build- heart leaping out of his mouth.

“I mean, is that how you do it? I want to match my style with yours”.

He blinks once, then twice. The tips of his ears burn red and he stutters for a coherent response. He’s completely forgotten his dance style at the sudden spotlight. The light you’re giving him.

“I guess, I could teach you how I do it”, he laughs unsure at your determined expression. It makes his heart soften.

He knows he can’t afford to start anything less than platonic with you, but thinking about you can’t hurt right?

★ NI-KI:

Ni-ki knows what respect feels like, how the feeling slowly spreads in his chest when he watches his seniors perform. It feels like everything but this. It doesn’t blossom slowly, it doesn’t make him feel jittery all over, it doesn’t distract him from his work to focus on how cute your freckles are or how there’s a hair strand that’s slipped out of your braid. He shouldn’t fix it, should he?

All he knows is that your attention on him will settle whatever he's feeling. Whenever you turn to him with your dazzling smile and sparkly makeup, Ni-ki feels like he can breathe again.

So, he begins to speak and speak and speak until the manager asks him if he wants to practice the dance instead.

You chirp in and agree, somehow you seem comfortable with him and he hasn’t even complimented you yet. All he talked about was how he loved your comeback. He feels his chest swell with pride when he realizes you’ve become more confident and assured when you mimic his teaching. Ni-ki thrives on how well you’re responding to his subtle attempts to appear cool so you can compliment him.

But when you do say “You make the hook look so easy”, fingers pinched and head moving along the beat, Ni-ki is rendered speechless. He was focused on wanting you to compliment him so bad that he had no idea how to react if you did.

Now, he lets his neck flush red and stutters his words, “It’s not that hard”.  It isn’t when that’s what he’s been practicing for months but you haven’t!

The potential misunderstanding grabs him by the throat and he splutters, hands waving to console himself rather than you- you don’t look offended or upset.

 You stare up at him with soft eyes yet Ni-ki has never felt so small.

“I didn’t mind anything”, you comfort him and he notices how your arm jerks upwards to pat him but halts midway, hesitant. Ni-ki lets out a breath to rewire his nerves.

He nods at you, gaining fortitude by the minute but in these moments of hesitancy where he almost touches your hand to fix its position or when you bite back another compliment, he genuinely believes that he’s not the only one with wobbly legs. 

Thank you for reading!

All rights belong to me. Please do not copy/translate/edit.

[st7rnioioss]

heyyy so i was watching a matt edit and it was to the song come through by the weekend and i was wondering if you could make a smut inspired by that song please :) i love ur work!!!! thank you

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ come thru

chris sturniolo x reader

warning: SMUT, p in v, fingering, mentions of edging, creampie, breeding kink kinda?, degradation, dirty talk, toxic relationship, BAD aftercare. smut w no plot

a/n: HELP i really hope i understood what this song about. busy famous dude who doesnt want a proper relationship. anyways, THANK YOU SO MUCH AND TY FOR THE REQUEST🤍🤍

not proofread!

i just realized i accidentally made this into a chris fic, forgive me please

౨ৎ

"Just put it in a ponytail, fuck 'em from behind Fuck 'em with their clothes on, panties to the side Put the panties to the side, like a don do"

Chris and I’s relationship was.. special. Friends with benefits if you may. It all started when Chris suddenly got a lot of fame for doing YouTube videos with his brothers. Me and Chris were good friends. I started spending less and less time with him, but after one tiny slip-up (aka, fucking in his friends bedroom) at a party, we’ve been hooking up whenever he wasn’t too busy.

One day went something like this:

‘Chris, are you free right now? I’m home alone.’ I texted him, waiting in my empty house for him. I knew he was done filming by now. ‘I’m on my way.’ he answered a minute later. It didn’t take long for his car to park in the driveway of my house. He basically barged in, and without a word I was pinned to the front door, hickeys starting to appear down my neck and collarbone. I had repeatedly told Chris we should stop what we were doing due to his career, but he turned it down, telling me ‘how much he loves me’ and ‘how he just couldn’t get enough of me’. I didn’t complain though, I just didn’t want our situationship to ruin his worklife.

The hickeys by the front door quickly turned into my back against my bed, pants discarded on the floor. “Such a slut, hm? Letting me finger you, panties to the side.” he shook his head with an amused smirk, repeatedly fucking his fingers up into my aching core. Occasionally he’d curl his fingers, adding a thumb to rub hard but slow circles against my clit. “Chris, please- I need you,” I begged. I felt so pathetic. Still fully clothed beside my sweatpants that were resting on the floor. Chris only found the view fantastic. “Get on all fours.” Chris’s voice rasped as he withdrew his fingers from my pussy. I don’t mean to overreact, but I could cry from frustration. Ever since he carried me to my room, he’s been edging me, making me a dripping, and begging mess for him. I quickly compiled, turning around to get on my knees and hands. I felt Chris shift from behind me, looking back to find him pulling his pants down, just so his cock could spring free from his pants. He leaned down to get a sight of my soaked pussy, glistening from the dim lights in my room. “So fucking wet for me..” he murmured, letting his thumb slide down my folds, pushing my panties to the side to get a better view. “Chris, just shut the fuck up,” I whimpered, begging for him to let me be released after having been edged for so long, on top of thinking about him every second of the day. “Watch the attitude or I’ll make sure to fuck some senses into you,” Chris grunted, leaning back to get a hold of his cock, teasingly aligning it with my folds, making sure to keep my panties on. Slowly, he pushed forward, eliciting a quiet moan from me. He stopped for a moment before pulling almost all the way out, pushing in again.

It always made his ego skyrocket when I winced in pain from the strech of his cock, maybe even moan, just from the sight of discomfort on my face. “Holy fuck.. ‘swear to God, you were made for me,” Chris moaned in unison with me. A hand slid from my waist up my back, getting a hold of my hair. Swiftly, he wrapped my hair around his hand in a makeshift ponytail, pulling my head backward to let his lips whisper into my ear. “You like that? Pulling your hair back?” he smirked, knowing he couldn’t get a proper sentence out of me. With those words he only went faster, pushing my head down to make me arch my back instinctively. In response, he only got a few incomprehensible words, moaning and whimpering as his thrusts hardened and quickened. Suddenly I felt the knot in my stomach tighten and snap, cumming unexpectedly. “Chris, I-” I whimpered, getting more and more overstimulated by the second.d “Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I even consider fucking you on a daily basis. Y’know how many girls would die to be in your position?” he groaned, feeling himself about to reach his high as well. I didn’t answer, mostly out of overstimulation. Chris could cum from my reflection in the mirror alone. The slightest bit of drool hanging from the corner of my parted lips, brows furrowed, eyes closed. A sight for sore eyes. “Chris, I’m gonna cum again..” I managed to mumble out, falling onto my elbows instead of my palms, making Chris unintentionally hit a spot way deeper than before. “Holy shit, Chris!” I moaned, letting myself cum around him once again. Chris wasn’t too far behind himself. To be fair, he’s been holding back for a while. He pulled me by my makeshift ponytail once again, making me groan in both pleasure and pain. “Gonna fill you up so nicely. I’ll make sure nothing leaks out, ‘might even have to cockwarm you if that’s the case. What do you think? Should I keep myself buried inside you?” Chris couldn’t stop groaning from just the thought of it. He only asked these questions to drive me crazy, knowing I couldn't form a proper sentence. Instead, he left me moaning, overstimulated, and tears threatening to spill. The thought of his dick staying inside of me, pushing his release deeper inside of me made me slightly fuzzy, arms buckling. “Chris, please. I-It’s too much..” I whimpered, a single tear rolling down my cheek. With a groan, Chris thrusted a few more times before letting him finish inside of me, making sure not to pull out.

After making sure I was doing alright, he pulled his pants up, pressing a kiss to my forehead while mumbling a quick ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ as he left with his jacket under his arm.

a/n: hi chat. i found out this week that a whole lot of people i know have been shittalking me and making up rumors LMAOPOO. anyways, i rlly hope u like this, and thank you so so much again ahh ilyy🤍🤍 sorry if this is complete ass, im tired as fuck

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt @gwenloremain @k-l-a-w-s

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐀 ✵ ENZO VOGRINCIC

summary. pipe gives away way too much information when he’s drunk.

warnings. suggestive 18+ minor pipe otaño x f!reader

a/n. based off bota niña by bad gyal 🫦

you were beginning to regret accepting the boy’s invitation of hitting a club to celebrate the premiere of the movie. they had convinced you to join reminding you of the countless months you’d spent on set making sure everyone was taken care of. the large group had managed to reserve a secluded section big enough for the cast and their friends. you could barley hear anyone over the loud music blaring in the venue.

you were glad the tab wouldn’t fall on you as the boys kept ordering group shots and bottles of bacardi and champagne. you went slow not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the cast. the last thing you wanted was to make a fool of yourself in front of your coworkers. you had image to keep up with.

“i’m gonna miss you.” pipe slurred as he laid his head against your arm.

“i’m gonna miss you too pipe.” you sighed not believing that you were probably never gonna see any of the guys again.

“can i kiss you?” he blurts out.

“pipe you’re drunk.” you try not to laugh as his drunk self betrays him.

“well i tried! i was so stupid to believe that you liked me over enzo.” he slouches back in his seat as he accepts defeat.

“over enzo? what does he have to do with this?” you ask him intrigued.

enzo had been the coworker you’d least interacted with during filming. he tended to spend more time with the guys and often kept to himself since he was practically the only uruguayan on set. on the few occasions that the two of you had spoken he had been cordial but reserved. it lowkey pissed you off because it left you wanting to know more. seeing him in the finished product was worse because he was full of talent and you had been so close to him yet so far.

“it’s so obvious he likes you.” he says as he tries to reach out for another shot but you intercept him. he’s had enough to drink tonight.

“you’re not funny pipe.” your eyes wander around the room until they land on the topic of conversation. his slicked back hair alone is enough to make you squirm. you quickly turn your attention back to the argentine in front of you.

“i’m the funniest person here besides franco.” he scoffs. “besides enzo was always asking about you on set and i’ve caught him staring. he totally likes you.”

“you’re so full of shit.” you shake your head as you laugh. “i’m gonna go have fun now so the hangover doesn’t bother me as much in the morning.”

you stand up adjusting your dress in the process. it was an absolute pain to always have to pull your dress down whenever it rode up but the high of the movie premiere was too strong to care. it was as if pipe’s observation had given you a wave of confidence and you found yourself standing in front of the others.

“does anyone want to come dance with me?” you ask in the nicest tone possible.

“enzo does!” pipe yells and you can’t help but send a glare towards him.

“no, my dancing is terrible.” enzo nervously giggles as he feels everyone’s eyes land on him.

“he’s lying!” franco throws him under the bus.

“i’ve seen him dance he’s decent.” esteban adds on to the teasing.

“he doesn’t need to come if he doesn’t want to. it’s fine.” you feel the heat rise up to your cheeks at their banter.

“nope! he’s going. he’s the best dancer i’ve ever seen.” pipe continues with his banter.

“enzo! enzo! enzo!” the rest of the people begin to chant as they egg him on. you were regretting asking them anything.

he stands up giving into the pressure from his cast mates. even though the club is dark and the lights are dim you can still notice the pink hue on his cheeks. he’s either embarrassed or flustered and you were beginning to feel bad.

“you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” you told him as he approached you.

“it’s fine besides it’ll give them something to talk about.” he smirked as the two of you headed towards the center of the room.

the club is dimly lit but you’re easily able to see people surrounding the two of you. they’re mostly all couples with the occasional group of friends somewhere in the mix. it also doesn’t help that it’s basically old reggaeton music blaring from the speakers meaning it was meant to be danced closely with your partner. you’re too shy to do anything and you quite literally stand there frozen unsure of what to do next.

“you can’t go all shy on me now.” he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him. “just a couple of minutes ago you were asking for a dancing partner.”

you try to not look shocked after all he is a man and he has his wants. but you have your needs. truth be told you had barely been romantically involved with anyone since filming had begun and wrapped. you were craving the attention of someone and you didn’t mind if it came from the extremely attractive protagonist. a newfound confidence had formed between the two of you and the music only encouraged you.

“so you don’t mind me touching you, right?” you ask him with a subtle smirk.

the dim lights manage to illuminate his face as he smiles at you. the moment occurring is intimate and probably the most you had ever interacted with him throughout the past three years you knew him. you couldn’t help but admire him, his attractiveness being too much for his own good. he didn’t realize how good looking he was but you had a feeling he would soon.

“depends, how?” he brings his lips near your ears due to the music to make sure you could hear him. the act making you shiver.

“like this.” you place your palm on his chest slowly trailing it down his chest. you lowered your body to the beat of the music at the same time. you surprised your self at how your body moved and how willingly you did it for him.

“fuck.” he murmured trying to make sure you didn’t hear him but you managed to catch it anyways. it was definitely an ego boost, you’d tell your friends about this.

you try to do it again but he grabs you and brings you chest to chest with him. he analyzes you and your breath hitches the suspense killing you. you’re not sure what he’s thinking and you don’t know if you just scared him off. he creeps his hand up your neck to your jaw cupping your face. he removes the couple of strands of hair that are blocking your face. his face gets closer to yours–your heart beating faster. one blink and his lips are on yours capturing them into a sensual rhythm.

you’re perfectly still for a moment not expecting a kiss from him but that doesn’t last long. you’re moving your lips against his in a second. his hand remains firm on your jaw as he kisses you. the two of you pull away for a second to catch your breath’s. you look up at him trying to decipher his feelings. you realize he liked it as much as you did when he leaned in for another one.

normally you would feel bad about the blatant pda in front of others but you weren’t thinking straight. maybe it was the lack of oxygen due to your lips being connected with his but all you wanted was to enjoy the passionate kisses he was giving you. your hand found it’s way into his messy hair tugging at the strands causing deep groans from him. it triggered something inside you. you’d never been kissed like this before nor held like this. you were so entranced by him you barely noticed the way his hand lowered down your body.

“you want to grab my ass and you haven’t even asked me out yet.” you remove his hand from your waist teasing him.

“oh come on you know how busy i’ve been.” he jokes. “come back to my room and i’ll make up for it.”

you offer him a forced smile clearly amused by his sudden confidence and his tempting offer. it was almost enough to make you break. but you didn’t want to be a simple one night stand he would forget. you may have found him attractive but you weren’t gonna lose your dignity.

“no enzo if you really want to make it up to me you’ll come to mine with dinner.” you kiss him on the cheek. “you know where to find me.” you say referring to fact that the whole cast was staying in the same hotel for the premiere.

you head towards the hotel dragging pipe and franco along with you. the two of them being so drunk you can barely get them into their rooms. when you were finally alone you brought your fingers up to your lips reminiscing about enzo and the feel of his lips on yours. you’re barely out of your heels when there’s a knock on your door. you believe it’s pipe coming to bother you once more but instead it’s enzo with a bag of takeout and that devilish smirk of his.