#the last one was an modern au with them as roommates

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

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“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me? 

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?” 

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Sabotaged My Date”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: yandere(ish)!Sukuna, fluff but he’s kinda very toxic, stalking, fem implied reader (wearing a dress and heels), brief mention of a bomb (there aren’t any bombs present), narration is from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.78k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Whoever decided this dingy shithole is a decent place to take you on a date should be fucking shot.

Maybe it was wrong of Sukuna to eavesdrop on your private conversation this morning, but in his defense you were talking on the phone loud as hell in the middle of the living room. Should’ve been quieter when you were telling your friend about the date you had planned for tonight.

And maybe it’s weird that Sukuna secretly followed you here to keep an eye on you, but it’s not like he has nefarious intentions. He’s heard of this place and one, it’s fucking gross, and two, it’s got one hell of a reputation to say the least. Definitely the kind of place for someone to get murdered, he’s just watching out for your safety!

Oh christs sake, who is he fooling? No, he followed you here because he’ll be damned if you get a boyfriend.

He feels like a creep, sitting at the bar behind your table in a black hoodie and an old baseball cap, eyes fixed on the back of your head. The guy sitting across from you is so bland, yet for some reason you’re still giggling and twirling your hair around your finger as if you don’t know that you can do so much better.

There was no need for you to doll yourself up for this fuckin’ loser; you’ve got on a pretty red dress and stiletto heels, probably anticipating him to take you somewhere nice, decent, at least. But he brought you to some run down shithole restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s and is definitely bearing several health code violations. It’s honestly embarrassing, Sukuna would take you somewhere so much nicer than this, he knows what you deserve.

He’s been sitting at the bar sipping on his drink for the last half hour, watching the way you prop your elbow onto the table, cross your legs in your seat, tap your heel against the leg of your chair, listening to you laugh and chat about your job. Meanwhile, mister nobody in front of you is chewing with his mouth open like some kind of ape, not realizing how much of a privilege he has by being able to treat you to dinner. Un-fucking-believable.

Finally the moment he’s been waiting for happens. Bland And Boring stands up from his seat and leaves you at the table to go use the restroom, so now it’s time for Sukuna to get this fool away from you. His eyes follow the man as he walks past the bar, not even trying to be discreet. He gives Sukuna a quick glance and nods his head politely, making his way towards the bathrooms near the front of the restaurant.

There’s no time to waste.

Sukuna stands from his seat at the bar, trailing behind your date and following him into the bathroom. As the door clicks shut behind him he realizes that it’s just the two of them. Perfect, no interruptions.

He walks up behind the man, watching him through the large mirror above the sinks. Now that he’s up close he can really see how pathetic this guy is, nervously looking up towards Sukuna as he absolutely towers above him, his stature menacing and the look in his eyes bordering on deadly.

“D-do you need some-”

“You should leave.” Your date jumps at the sound of Sukuna’s voice; dark, deep, and serious.

“Um… why?” His eyes flicker around the room, definitely praying to whatever god he believes in to come save him.

Sukuna is surprised he isn’t immediately obeying. Has he grown soft? Surely not, this guy just needs a little extra push.

So Sukuna says the first thing that comes into mind.

“I have a bomb.”

Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but god damn does it do the trick. The guy looks like he’s about to fucking piss himself, eyes widening in terror as he quickly nods his head and runs out of the restaurant.

Sukuna keeps a keen eye on him through the windows, watching him nearly leap into his car and hearing the tires screech as he speeds out of the parking lot. It seems you also had an eye on your date, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as you assumed that he just ditched you with the bill.

Now’s his time to shine.

He stuffs his hat into the front pocket of his hoodie and strides up behind you to your table, bending down to be eye level with you in the booth and putting on his best mildly surprised and kind of amused expression, “Well look at that.”

“Ugh, god.” You bury your face into your hands, “And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”

He can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. It is his fault you’re in this situation, but I mean come on, that guy was no good for you anyway. “You sample the whole fuckin’ menu or something?”

You groan and roll your eyes, perfect, you took the bait, “I just got dine and dashed, asshole.”

Sukuna lets out a laugh as he flops down into the seat across from you, god if only you knew. A man would have to be a real idiot to stand you up, but he has to try and keep his act together, “Yeah? Guys are fuckin’ assholes, surprise.”

The pout on your face is too sweet, makes it hard for him to really feel bad, “I was really liking him too.”

Oh, he definitely doesn’t feel bad now. He pulls his card out of his wallet as the waitress approaches the table, handing it off to her nonchalantly as he continues the conversation, “Don’t know why you bother going on dates with these guys.”

You try to interject the waitress but she walks away before you can stop her, a defeated frown pulling down your lips, “What are you doing here anyway?”

He plops his elbow onto the table, shrugging his shoulders casually, “What? Am I not allowed to go to my favorite shitty restaurant?”

You perk up slightly, “Right? I saw a roach on the way in, I can’t believe he recommended this place.”

The waitress comes back and hands Sukuna his card, he quickly scribbles his signature on the receipt and stands from his seat at the booth, “Let’s get you out of here before you get ringworm or some shit, nasty fuckin’ place.”

Finally a smile creeps onto your face, lighting up the dreary atmosphere. You adjust your dress as you stand up and he can’t help but smirk at how good you look all dolled up, dark red dress hugging your figure as if you wore it for him. He leads you out of the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open for you since he noticed that your loser date let it slam in your face on your way in.

Droplets of rain were starting to sprinkle down, which is pretty unlucky considering it’s a ten minute walk back to the apartment. But that’s not a problem for Sukuna, if anything it’s a perfect opportunity. He catches the frown curling down your pouty lips as you fix your fingers through your nicely styled hair, probably trying to keep it from getting messed up, and without missing a beat he pulls his hoodie off, sliding it over your head and down your arms.

“I’m sure you spent hours dolling yourself up, would hate to ruin it.” His voice is smooth as butter, leaning down to eye level with you as he adjusts the hood to make sure your hair is covered.

A blush creeps onto your face, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” as you pull your arms through the sleeves. It honestly looks like you’re drowning in his massive hoodie, the sleeves too long for your arms that your fingers can’t even peek out and the hem at the bottom falling at your upper thighs.

Sukuna thought you looked good in that red dress, but god damn you look heavenly wearing his clothes. Why didn’t he do this sooner?

You both start to walk down the sidewalk to the apartment, the evening is quiet save for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the bars and restaurants that you pass by. You’re walking right up against his side, your arm occasionally brushing against his and he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting closer on purpose.

Sukuna breaks the peaceful silence, “So was the food good at least?”

You look up towards him quizzically, squinting your eyes in a way that’s too fucking cute for him to handle, “Shouldn’t you be the expert?”

“Why t’fuck would I know? Never been there.”

“I thought that was your favorite shitty restaurant?”

Oops.

He got way too distracted looking into your pretty eyes. Lucky for him, he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to cover him because a loud snap rings through the air as you stumble forward. His arm quickly wraps around your waist to steady you before you can fall, holding you flush against him.

You look down at your feet and let out a loud groan of frustration, “Fucks sake, really?” You lift your foot up to inspect your shoe, your stiletto heel barely dangling by a thread as it snapped off from the sole.

Sukuna didn’t mean to laugh, but there was no containing it. You look up at him with an adorable angry face, cheeks burning red as you curse him out and it only makes him smile more. You’re just too damn cute when you’re pissed off.

“It’s not funny! These were expensive!”

“Yeah yeah, c’mere.” His arm stays wrapped around your waist as he leans down and hooks his other arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease as you squeal in surprise and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.

Now he could bet that other guy wouldn’t do this for you, not just was he scrawny as all hell but he wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gentleman. Your arms tighten around the back of Sukuna’s neck as he starts walking to the apartment again, your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder as you slowly relax into his hold. He’s actually liking this a lot, silently considering purposely taking a wrong turn on the way home so he can hold you longer.

Hopefully after this you’ll stop going on stupid dates with worthless men, you’ve already got everything you could ever want right at home after all. Soon enough you’ll realize that you don’t need anyone but him.

A/N: This was SO FUN to write!! I love him he’s such an asshole askakksksk, I rlly liked the idea of doing a light hearted yandere part (even tho NOBODY asked for this skaksksk) Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched

Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her

Bewitched Pt II

Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)

Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU

Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.

On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.

It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.

You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.

While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.

He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?”

“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.

“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.

“So there's-“

“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.

Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.

You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.

It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.

“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.

“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.

“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.

“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.

When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.

“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.

“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.

“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.

“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.

His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.

He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”

You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.

“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.

“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”

“An understanding?”

“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.

“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”

“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.

“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.

“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.

“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”

The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.

“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”

A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.

“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.

His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.

“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”

“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.

“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”

“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.

“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.

“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.

“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.

“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.

“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.

[steventhusiast]

modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3

-

eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.

and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.

he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.

so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.

luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.

holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.

“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.

“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”

eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.

“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”

he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.

“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”

eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.

“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.

steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.

“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.

“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”

eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.

“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.

probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?

“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”

eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.

and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.

“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.

steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.

“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”

and with that, she leaves the kitchen.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you write modern Jace being a blind king? Those glasses looks THICK. Maybe reader come to his dorm and see him with his glasses?

Request: Roommates college au where there’s a mixup with the dorms and they end up in the same dorm. Imagine rooming with Jace? He’d be so cute and maybe a little nerdy idk. She moves out but they become friends…and then more than friends

The second request has been sitting in my ask for a long time (sorry). I watched Insidious: The Red Door the other day and it gave me inspiration for it (I had planned to add smut in this one but it didn't end up fitting and my laptop didn't save a few of the scenes I had written so I had to rewrite them...not as good or cute as the first time)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When you arrived at your assigned dorm, there were already people there. One was a boy with curly hair, and the other a woman with white-blond hair. Their backs were all turned, so they didn’t see you come in with your suitcase. 

‘’No, Mom, you don't have to do that. I can do it myself,’’ he said, trying to stop her from unpacking a box. ‘’Classes don’t start until Monday.’’ 

‘’But I want to help you settle in,’’ she insisted, taking a lamp out of the box and setting it on the nightstand. ‘’My first boy is leaving for college. This is difficult for me, Jace. Let me at least help you with your bed. No one makes a bed better than a mother.’’  

Jace sighed in defeat and moved out of her way so she could make his bed. ‘’Okay. Thanks, Mom.’’ 

She grabbed sheets from another box and began making the bed. ‘’Where are your brothers and father? Taking the last boxes out of the car shouldn’t take so long. I hope they didn’t get lost on campus.’’

You watched them with jealousy, wishing your parents had dropped you off at college too. It was a rite of passage for freshman students. But you understood that your parents had jobs they could not take days off from. 

You stood there for a moment before clearing your throat to announce your presence. ‘’This is room 309?’’

Jace’s mom looked up first, giving you a kind smile. ‘’Oh, hello there. Yes, this is 309. Are you looking for someone?’’ 

‘’No. Eh, this is my dorm,’’ you said with a frown, holding your paper in your hand. ‘’It says 309.’’ 

Jace turned around, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘’That’s impossible, there must be a mistake. This is a boys hall, and boys and girls aren’t supposed to room together. It’s nothing against you, I personally don’t see a problem rooming with a girl. It’s just…not permitted.’’

‘’I know. But it says here that this is my dorm.’’ 

‘’Let me see that paper, sweetheart.’’ The blond woman looked at your paper, her eyes reading the information slowly. ‘’Oh, no. You’re right. There must be a mistake on the college’s part.’’

‘’You should go to the housing office,’’ Jace suggested with the same kind smile as his mother. ‘’They’ll switch you to another hall.’’

You nodded. ‘’I’m gonna go and see if they can solve this issue. Can I leave my suitcase here?’’ 

‘’Of course.’’ 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

The line outside the housing office was crazy due to the hoard of students coming back, so you didn't get back to your dorm until well later in the evening. There were no voices coming from inside your dorm, meaning Jace's family must have left. 

You knocked before coming in, not wanting to walk in on something you should not be seeing. But Jace did not hear you, laying on his bed with a book and headphones on. You didn’t take him for a reader, nor a glasses wearer. 

‘’What did they say at housing?’’ he asked, taking down his headphones and shutting his book. 

You walked over to the empty bed and fell down on it, exhausted. ‘’They basically said sorry for the inconvenience and that I gotta sleep here tonight. But I’ll get a new room tomorrow, so it’s not a permanent thing.’’ 

Jace hummed. ‘’Do you need help settling for the night?’’ 

You shook your head, standing. ‘’No. I’m just gonna get my pillow and blanket, and change into pajamas. There’s no point unpacking when I move again tomorrow.’’ 

Your suitcase was heavy, so you lowered it on the floor and grabbed your pillow and blanket, then rummaged through your suitcase for your pajamas. As you held up your shorts and a tee shirt, you remembered that this was a boys' hall, meaning the bathrooms would be full of boys.

Jace seemed to read your mind. ‘’Eh, I can turn around so you can change,’’ he offered. ‘’I promise I’m not gonna look. I can even take off my glasses if you want, I’m blind as a mile without them.’’

You chuckled at his offer. What a gentleman, you noted. Making sure you feel comfortable during this inconvenience. ‘’That's okay. Just turning around is fine."

He nodded and turned his back to you, facing the wall. ‘’You’re in art school?’’ he asked, making conversation as you changed so it would be less awkward. ‘’I've seen your sketchbook and art supplies beside your suitcase. Not that I snooped through your things. I promise I didn’t.’’ 

‘’Yeah,’’ you replied, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. It felt daunting to be topless in the same room as an almost-stranger, but you tried to not think too much about it. ‘’And you’re in...?'

''Political science,’’ he finished. ‘’My grandfather went to this university, so I’m following his footsteps. I’m also taking a side class in History for personal pleasure.’’

Political science was not what you expected him to say, but it made sense. With his glasses, he had the politician look — minus the sweats and tee shirt. 

What kind of weirdo takes a history class for fun? 

‘’I know what you’re thinking — history is boring. But I love learning about the past civilisations and how ancient monuments were built, it’s so fascinating. Like the Moai Statues, the Giza pyramids or the Colosseum of Rome.’’

‘’Have you ever visited one of them?’’ You slipped into your pajamas, and threw your dirty clothes on top of your suitcase. 

His lips curled into an excited grin. ‘’I have! Last year, my family and I went to Italy and my dad took me and my brother Luke to see the Colosseum. It was magnificent. I took pictures. Do you want to see?’’ 

‘’Sure.’’ 

You sat back on your bed and Jace turned back around, reaching to grab his ipad to show you the pictures he took. His passion for history could be heard as he talked about the Colosseum, telling you facts you had never heard of. Eventually, the pictures came to an end, and Jace accidentally swiped too far, showing you a picture of his brothers and him making faces in Italy. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

You didn’t think so many people would be up early on a Saturday. The queue at the campus café was insane. All for a coffee and a bagel. 

As you walked across the quad, trying to get to the bookstore to get everything you needed for Monday, flyers were being shoved into your face, advertising for clubs, frat parties and sorority houses who were scouting for new members. You were not interested in any, but they were not taking no for answer.

A neon party? What year were they stuck into? 

You threw all the invitations in the trash.  

On your way back from the bookstore, you received an email from the housing office with your new dorm information. You could move in immediately, but needed to stop by for your new key. 

So that's what you did. 

You couldn’t wait to get to your new dorm and finally shower. 

‘’You’re already going?’’ Jace asked, coming in with a paper bag containing lunch from the café you went to this morning. 

You nodded, finishing zipping up your suitcase. ‘’I’m not going too far, though. I’m just a floor up, right above you, so if you jerk off or have a girl over, remember that I can hear all.’’

Jace’s cheeks turned a shade of pink, getting flustered.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

Although you had moved out, you found yourself standing outside your old dorm a few days later. 

‘’Howdy roomie,’’ you said when Jace opened. ‘’Let’s go out, I’m hungry.’’ 

Before he could say anything, you stepped in as if it was still your dorm and sat on the empty bed that used to be yours. They must not have found him a new roommate. On the desk, you noticed Jace’s laptop was opened along with his textbook. 

The brunet frowned, clearly confused by your presence. ‘’Eh, what are you doing here?’’ 

‘’Taking my roommate out for pizza?’’ you replied. You had not eaten since that granola bar at lunch and your stomach was screaming. 

‘’We’re not roommates anymore.’’ 

You rolled your eyes. It was a minor detail. ‘’I know, but you’re the person I’ve spent the most time with since getting here and I don’t feel like going out to eat alone. Please, Jace,’’ you said, pouting to put all chances on your side. 

He was taken back. This wasn’t a common occurrence for him. A girl knocking on his door and asking him out — platonically or not. 

His frown disappeared, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘’Fine,’’ he sighed. ‘’I’ll put on my shoes.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

Getting pizza after class on Wednesday became a weekly rendez-vous. You sat at the same table, ordered the same toppings — pepperoni with extra cheese and red bell peppers —, and talked about anything but school. You made it an official rule on your fourth date when Jace spent the whole time biting his fingers and worrying about a paper that was due at the end of the week. 

Pizza dates were your special time to unwind and stop thinking of schoolwork.

As you both settled into your usual spot, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. Early autumn rain was the worst. The weather was too warm to carry around a jacket, but when you didn’t have one, rain would randomly start pouring. 

You took a second slice of pizza and glanced at Jace. ‘’I’m gonna need your help for a project for my art class.’’ 

His eyes widened slightly, and he quickly swallowed his bite of pizza. ‘’Nope!’’ 

You frowned at his immediate refusal. ‘’You don’t want to help me?’’ 

‘’No! That’s not that,’’ he assured. ‘’Didn’t we make a rule that we would not be speaking of school while eating pizza? You’re breaking your own rule,’’ he pointed out. 

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in the booth. ‘’I know… But Mrs. Rosenberg told us this afternoon that we needed a model for our proportion piece and I didn’t want to forget about it. All you have to do is sit and look pretty while I draw you.’’ 

Jace raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh, so you think I’m pretty?’’ he teased, stuffing a huge bite of pizza in his mouth before you could swat his arm.

You rolled your eyes and took a bite of your own slice. ‘’So, will you be my model?’’

He thought about it, a slight pout on his lips. ‘’What’s in it for me?’’

‘’Extra time with your favorite roommate?’’ 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

‘’Is this okay? I have a red polo somewhere. Maybe it would look better?’’ Jace asked as you laid out your art material on the second, unused, desk. 

You shook your head, and started propping up your small easel. ‘’You’re perfect like this.’’ 

He nodded slowly, his cheeks flushing a bit as he settled into position by the desk lamp you had priorly angled. The silence between you was comfortable as you began tracing Jace's features on your canvas, and you took a moment to really look at him — his curly hair, the faint freckles across his aquiline nose, the highlight of his pouty lips, and the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his tee shirt.

He was nervous. You immediately picked on it when you came in with your canvas and art supplies. His demeanor was different than usual. 

‘’Can you move your head slightly to the left?’’

Jace complied, the dull yellow light of the lamp hitting exactly where you wanted it. Now, you could see all the angles and edges of his face. 

‘’Yes! That’s perfect!’’

You continued tracing the contrasts and outlines of your model's face, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Jace found it cute, but he kept it to himself. 

The afternoon passed. You painted and mixed colors on your palette, lost in your creative bubble while Jace was trying his best to keep his posture...which was starting to ache. Sitting completely straight for hours was more difficult than he thought.

As you were working on his complexion, you stole glances at your ex-roommate, trying to get every detail on your canvas, and noticed him shifting slightly, uncomfortable. 

‘’You know,’’ you began, breaking the silence. ‘’You don’t have to stay completely still like a statue. Feel free to move a little or adjust. I'll tell you if it doesn't work for me.’’

Jace gave a small laugh, the sound light and nervous. ‘’I’m not really used to this… Playing the model.’’

‘’I think you're doing good. Just...a bit stiff.’’

You continued painting him until the sun began to set, then called for a much deserved snack break. Jace pulled out a pack of Oreos from the snack box in his closet and your eyes turned into hearts. They were your favorite. 

‘’You really know the way to a girl’s heart,’’ you said as you took a third cookie from the pack. 

Jace smiled at you, pleased to see you enjoying them. He took a fifth one and chewed slowly as crumbs fell on his shirt. Oreos were messy. ‘’My mom sent them to me in a care package last week. I need my sugar to stay focused when I stay up late doing schoolwork.’’ 

Your heart melted at the sweet attention from Jace’s mother.  

‘’How is the painting going?’’  

‘’It’s coming together nicely. But it won’t be finished tonight. Painting takes a while. Especially portraits,’’ you replied. ‘’I need to get every little detail right. From that one curl that’s almost poking you in the eye to the dust of freckles on your nose.’’ 

The brunet’s cheeks flushed a bit at your words. He was not sure what to do with the feeling bubbling up in his stomach. Was this a compliment? Gods, he sucked with girls. 

You stayed in Jace’s dorm until one of you began yawning and it was time to call it a night. He helped you put your painting supplies away and even offered to clean your brushes in the boys’ bathrooms. This guy was a true sweetheart. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The following afternoon, you approached Jace's dorm, your painting supplies tucked under your arm. A lot of students used their Sunday to do their laundry, so you hoped he was there. You should have texted him before coming.

You were about to knock, fist raised, when you paused at the door, hearing the faint sound of a facetime conversation coming from inside. 

‘’She’s not my girlfriend. Shut up, Luke,’’ Jace's voice came through, tinged with frustration.

You could imagine his cheeks heating up. 

‘’You go on dates all the time…and you said she was cute, and talented, and funny,'' Luke's voice, younger and teasing, said, recalling everything. 

You should feel ashamed for eavesdropping on a conversation about you, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, butterflies filling your stomach. Jace had talked to his brother about you? If Luke assumed you were his girlfriend, he must have talked about you more than once. 

‘’We’re just friends. I don’t have time for a girlfriend anyway. I have a lot of schoolwork,’’ Jace interrupted, his tone firm but slightly defensive.

‘’Nerd,’’ Luke snickered. 

You didn’t meet him on moving day, but you assumed he was the kind of brother who loved to tease his siblings. From what Jace had told you, he was quite the little troublemaker. 

A few doors down, a guy walked out of his dorm with a bag of dirty clothes and sweatpants low on his hips, and stared you down as you stood in the corridor. He was walking your way, so you took this as your cue to knock on Jace’s door. The sound echoed throughout the quiet corridor, louder than you intended.

‘’Ohh is that your girlfriend?’’ 

‘’No, it's...pizza delivery. Tell Mom I’ll call her tonight,’’ he added in a softer tone. 

You heard movement inside and soon Jace opened the door, greeting you with his usual bright smile. He had glasses and gray sweats on, meaning he had likely not left his dorm at all today. 

 ‘’Hey, you’re here! I was starting to think you made other plans…’’ Jace said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

‘’Never,’’ you replied, walking past him and setting your things down like yesterday. ‘’Besides, I need to bring in my final piece Wednesday morning and I still have a lot left to paint. It would have been a poor choice to not come.’’ 

Behind you, Jace nodded. ‘’Eh, should I change into the shirt I had yesterday? Because I slept in and didn’t do laundry.’’ 

You shook your head. ‘’The color of your shirt does not matter. I’m still painting your pretty face.’’ 

Jace smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly; it was a nervous habit he had, you had discovered. ‘’I’ll go sit at my spot, then.’’ 

‘’Have you taken a peak while I was not there?’’ you asked as you placed the canvas and easel in front of your chair. 

You glanced over at him, half-expecting a guilty grin, but he shook his head, his dark curls bouncing slightly. ‘’No. I want to be surprised.’’ 

You finished setting your stuff up quietly. 

The sky was gray today, clouds hanging heavy as if threatening rain, so you were thankful for the artificial light you chose to use yesterday. Natural light is great, but frustrating as it changes with time and weather. 

When you began mixing colors and painting, you felt Jace’s shy gaze on you. His eyes would dart away when you almost caught him, pretending to be interested in something else, only to glance back at you a moment later. It was a silent game, one that made you smile every time you almost caught him.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

About an hour into your painting, rain started to fall heavily and the sky began to shake with thunder. It echoed loudly around the room, causing the lights to flash. 

You were used to rain and thunderstorms, so you didn't think this one was strong enough to cause a power outage, but after an especially loud crack of thunder, the whole dorm went dark. 

‘’I guess that’s our cue to stop for today,’’ you said with a small laugh, barely able to see your canvas in front of you. You sighed, slightly frustrated by the interruption, and put your brush down on the easel.

Jace moved to his window, seeing the pouring rain and an impressive lightning flashing in the distance. ''Looks like it's not going to let up anytime soon.'' He glanced at your face, but was blinded by the brightness of your phone’s light. 

You quickly apologized, laughing. ‘’I didn't mean to do that,’’ you promised.

He glared at you and went back to his bed, rubbing his eyes. ‘’It’s worse with my glasses. I can’t see.’’ 

You laughed harder, directing the light to the ceiling so no one would be blinded by it. ‘’Do you think the university has a generator?’’

‘’For the academic buildings, not the residences. It would take a massive one to provide power to the whole campus,’’ Jace explained, finally starting to get his vision back. ‘’We’re stuck in the dark until it gets back.’’ 

You sighed and abandoned your side to move and sit on Jace’s bed. You could have gone back to your dorm, but you would be sitting alone in the dark. He turned his head to look at you, noticing you sitting on the edge of his bed, and moved back to make more room for you. You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’.

Thankfully, it was only mid-November, so it was not that cold. But it will get cold eventually if the power goes out for too long…

After a few hours, the power was not back. And the room had gotten a little cold, so Jace offered you one of his hoodies. It was gray and felt like a blanket on you. And it smelled like him — woodsy and comforting. 

Through this long darkness and silence, you found yourself thinking about the conversation you heard when you came to his dorm. You figured it was heavily influenced by the hoodie enveloping you. 

‘’Jace?’’ 

He hummed, sitting in his corner against his pillows. 

The words vomited out before you could stop them. ‘’Why did you tell your brother that you didn’t have time for a girlfriend when you spend all your free time with me?’’ 

The brunet was taken aback by your question. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, his cheeks flaming. ‘’How do you know—’’ 

‘’I heard you on the phone earlier. I didn't mean to listen, I just…did.’’

Jace cleared his throat and spoke quietly, his voice strained and embarrassed. ‘’You weren’t supposed to hear that...’’ He looked away from you, avoiding your gaze. ''What else have you heard?'' 

A lump of guilt knotted inside your stomach for putting him on the spot like this. ''Not much. A guy walked out of his dorm and was staring me down, so I knocked on your door to get away,'' you explained in truth. 

There was a moment of silence as Jace picked at his fingers. He was still embarrassed, but he needed to push it to the side and make something useful out of it. ‘’I told Luke I didn’t have time for a girlfriend because I don’t know how to have a girlfriend. I mean, I do know the principle. I just…don’t know how to talk to girls.’’

You smiled, finding his honesty adorable. ‘’You’re talking to me now,’’ you said with a hint of amusement hiding behind your words.

‘’And it’s exactly the problem. We’re just talking,’’ he muttered more to himself than to you. 

‘’Would you like us to do more than talking?’’ you asked flirtatiously, extending an invisible hand for Jace to grasp. 

Slowly, his gaze shifted back to you. ‘’It depends what you mean by more than talking…’’ 

There was another loud crack of thunder, echoing and shaking the walls. The loud noise made Jace jump slightly, nervous from the proximity between you. He tried to brush it off, but you grinned and inched closer to cup his face. 

''Tell me if you want me to stop.'' 

His eyes found yours and he gripped the blanket, needing something to grab to take his nerves off. ''I don't want you to stop.''

You leaned closer, your hand still on his cheek, and pressed your lips onto his. The touch of your lips sent a jolt of electricity up Jace's spine.  He gasped, having never felt so much from a simple kiss, and kissed you back without hesitation, his lips plush but chapped against yours. 

More lightning pierced the horizon outside the window, but you were too lost in each other's lips to notice. Jace's hand that was not grabbing the blanket came to rest on your hip to pull you a little closer. He was gentle and inexperienced, you could feel it in the way he was touching you. 

You pulled away to catch your breath, but a needy whine left his lips, grabbing your hip with more force and pulling you back in. He was not done kissing you.

When night came and the power finally returned, you didn’t go to your dorm. You borrowed one of Jace’s tee shirts and slid under the covers with him. You both had classes at 8am, so you simply laid together, Jace’s head on your chest while you gently rubbed his back and slowly fell asleep.

—

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[justkindalivin]

Roommate trouble

summary: Your roommate Jesse and his girlfriend Dina fuck..a lot. loudly. When you finally get fed up after being woken up by their nightly “activities”, you go to Dina’s dorm for some peace and quiet only to run into her roommate, Ellie. 

warnings: Smut (18+ PLZ), Language, modern!au, college!au, making out, thigh riding, fingering (r rec), oral (r rec), dom!ellie, teasing, sub!reader, not edited well (I can’t think of anything else but lmk if you find something I forgot!)  

wc: 2.7k 

an: HEY YALL!! It's been a hot minute, sorry about that! The shotgun series is still ongoing but this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. I tried to activate my asks or whatever but I’m still kinda new to how tumblr works haha. I wanna meet people in the TLOU community and make friends so come say hi!! Anyhoo I hope you guys enjoy, have a great day I love you ♡ - Lottie

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

You loved Jesse, you really did. Starting from move-in day, you guys did everything together, knew everything about each other, and he quickly became your absolute best friend. When he first introduced you to Dina, a girl he met during orientation, you were so happy he found someone as sweet and open as she was. She always greeted you with a hug and smile, even going as far as inviting you to hang out with her and Jesse on whatever date they had planned. Eventually, you and Dina also got very close, going on your own little “friend dates” as she called them where you would go to dinner or just watch a movie. You always joked that if she ever got tired of Jesse all she had to do was say the word and you would sweep her off her feet. As much as you loved them though, there was one thing about them that you couldn’t stand. They fucked like rabbits. Literally 24/7. You actually didn’t even know it was medically possible for two people to get it on this much. You come home from a class and boom- they’re in your dorm going at it. Trying to take a nap in your room? Think again, here comes Jesse and Dina tearing off each other's clothes. You tried to be cool about it at first because you didn’t want to seem bitchy, but you were quickly reaching your limit. And tonight was the night you lost it 

-------

You had a long fucking day, filled with back-to-back classes that seemed to last an eternity and mountains of homework that took you hours in the library to complete. Practically as soon as you got to your dorm and your head hit the pillow you passed out, which is probably why you didn't hear Jesse and Dina come home. What you did hear, however, was a weird grating creaking noise that roused you from sleep. Blinking the blurriness from your eyes, you start to come to your surroundings. The creaking started to get louder and as you become more and more awake, you begin to notice soft moans and grunts coming from the direction of the creaking... - NO. FUCKING. WAY. 

“You little fuck gremlins, you’re unbelievable!!!” You exclaim, hucking your pillow in their general direction. The sound of a startled grunt and scrambling from Jesse’s bed fills your ears as they try to cover themselves up, and finally, you turn your bedside lamp on to glare at them. Both of them sit on his bed, messily wrapped in blankets with a light pink dusting on their cheeks, chests heaving as they try to catch their breath. At least Dina looks apologetic, Jesse just looks annoyed you interrupted them. 

“I’m so sorry, I-” Dina starts apologizing, but you hold up your hand to stop her. 

“Jesse, you're like a brother to me and I love you, but I can’t deal with you right now. Like, just give me a heads up when you two are gonna fuck and I’ll leave, this is traumatizing.” Jesse slightly rolls his eyes but nods, and you can tell he does actually feel bad that they woke you. “and Dina, just give me a chance I’d treat you so right, just say the word. You’ve done nothing wrong ever, and I love you.” 

Jesse shakes his head, throwing his hands up indignantly “Why do I get scolded like a toddler and Dina gets hit on?!? Where’s the justice?”. You shut him up with a glare, then focus back on Dina.

“Dina, where is your dorm and would your roommate mind me staying there? Y’all can finish what you started but I’m getting tf up outta here.” After getting the building name and room number, you quickly pack a small go bag with essentials, wrap a blanket over your shoulders, and begin to trudge across campus to Dina’s building. About halfway there you think about how crazy you’re going to look to her roommate, a girl you’ve never met before but Dina had mentioned in passing a few times. The only thing you knew about her was that her name was Ellie and she was an astronomy major. Fuck, what were you even going to say when you got there?? Hey! Our roommates were having a fuck fest in my room, mind if we have a sleepover? You spent the rest of the walk overthinking and trying to come up with something to say when you saw her until eventually, you found yourself on their floor. Wandering down the hallway, you finally stumble on a light wooden door that was decorated with colorful bits of paper cut into the shape of mushrooms that held both Dina and Ellie’s names. Keeping in mind the mini script you made of what to say when you were walking over, you take a deep breath and raise your hand to knock on the door.

After a moment of silence, clattering and distant swearing come from the other side of the door before it swings open. Your mouth goes dry, all the words you had rehearsed flying out the window as you take in Ellie for the first time. Her short auburn hair falls messily around her freckled face and as she lifts her hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes, you catch a glimpse of a tattoo on her forearm. Wearing just a white cotton tank top and black boxers, it was clear that she had been sleeping peacefully before your rude awakening. As you continue to check her out, you’re startled when her voice cuts through the quiet of the hallway.

“Dude, I was sleeping. The fuck do you want?” Ellie’s voice is still thick with sleep as her gaze falls on you. Oh shit, she must think you’re so creepy, just some rando waking her up in the middle of the night and then staring at her. You hastily blurt out your name trying to seem like less of a weirdo in front of Dina’s smoking-hot roommate

“Dina and Jesse woke me up with their... sex stuff? And they go at it all the time and I was kinda fed up so I asked Dina if I could sleep in her bed for tonight and she said yes so... now I'm here and-” Your awkward rambling was cut short by Ellie bursting out laughing, doubling over to clutch her stomach.

“No way dude that's fucking heinous! You poor thing get in here.” With that, Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you into the room, her hand finding the small of your back as she guides you in. “Welcome to our humble abode, that's Dina’s side so you can just dump your shit over there, and that's her bed.” She says, gesturing to the left side of the room. Shoving your backpack to the ground, you make your way to Dina’s bed, observing the room as you go. Ellie’s side is filled with drawings and posters, as well as a guitar that leans up against her bed rail. Pictures also litter the walls, some of her and Dina, some of her other friends, and a few of her with an older man you assume is her dad. Suddenly feeling the night catch up to you, a huge yawn leaves your lips and you crawl into Dina’s bed, letting your eyes fall closed.

“It's nice to finally meet you, Dina talks about you all the time. She didn’t tell me you were pretty though”. Your eyes fly open and you can feel your cheeks growing warm at the compliment. 

“Dina talks about you too. It's weird we’ve never met before, Dina always said I would like you” You reply, rolling over to face her to see that she was already looking at you. 

“Listen any time those two are annoying you, come over here. You’re always welcome” she tells you, a wide smile stretching across her face

“Thanks, Ellie”

“No problem pretty girl”

-------

“Ellie they’re doing it again!! They were literally eye fucking all over the room so I made my escape before my vision got assaulted. Again.” You yell, bursting into Ellie's room without so much as a knock. On that first night you stayed in Dina’s dorm, the two of you talked for hours, only stopping once daylight began to leak through the curtains on the windows. She talked about her adopted dad, Joel, what she wanted to do with her life, and her love of dinosaurs. With each word, you found yourself more and more enamored with her. You’d never met anyone like Ellie and from that day on you guys were close friends. Well... you don’t know if friends is the way to describe it. Ellie was almost always touching you, from wrapping an arm around your waist when you were walking together to pulling you down onto her lab when there was not enough room on the couch. At parties, she’d keep close to you, warding off creepy men with a snarl and her arm around your shoulders. You’d both shared countless kisses, some light and playful, others deep and passionate. There was something unspoken between the two of you, you saw it in the way she looked at you, the way she was protective over you like no one else in your life has ever been. You’d never labeled what you and Ellie had, too scared that if you talked about it, she’d get so weirded out by you reading too much into it that she would leave. 

“I keep telling you babe, set boundaries with them. As much as I love having your gorgeous face here, you gotta tell them when you need the room.”

That was the other thing, the nicknames she gave you. You don’t think Ellie has called you by your name once since the night you met. It's always pretty girl, gorgeous, or your personal favorite, babe. Wandering over to where Ellie sat on the edge of her bed, tuning her guitar, you flop face down next to her. Hearing her place the guitar down with a dramatic sigh, you feel Ellie’s body moving toward where you lay on the bed. Rough hands grasp your waist, rolling you until you’re laying on your back. Ellie kneels over you, one hand stroking the skin of your waist while the other glides up the side of your body to brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“I’ll beat the shit out of Jesse, will that help?” She offers, only half joking, earning a small giggle from you as she smiles. 

“My hero” You joke, hand rising to cup the side of her face and squeeze the flesh there. “You don’t have to, I just have to stop being a pussy and tell them. Maybe we can make a schedule or something, I don't know.”

“Oo a fucking schedule, how romantic. I’m sure they’ll love that” She teases and you shove her away from you playfully. Before you can fully shove her away, she grips your arm, using the momentum to pull you onto her lap. Her back leans against the wall and she picks you up slightly by your hips so that she can slide her thigh between your legs. 

“Shut up I’m trying okay?” You giggle raising your hand to push her once again. This time though, she catches it and laces your fingers together. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath from being WWE slammed into a cuddle session and you could have sworn you catch Ellie’s eyes flutter between your own and your chest. Did you wear a low-cut tank top and booty shorts on purpose?... maybe. Was it working? Hell yes. 

When Ellie finally looks up from your chest, you raise an eyebrow mockingly at her and her face immediately flushes a dark red. You laugh as she averts her gaze and clears her throat, leaning down to rest your head in the crook of her neck. Her hands migrate to rub your back, moving the fabric of your shirt to rub soothing circles on your soft skin. From her neck you try to sneak a look at her face, only to find that her eyes are already locked on you. With a small smile, you once again bring your hand up to cup her face, this time just caressing the skin there instead of pinching. Ellie removes her hands from your back and uses them to grab the hair at the base of your neck, bringing your head up to face her. After only a brief look from your eyes to your lips, Ellie surges forward and meets your lips in a searing kiss. 

She bites down on your lower lip playfully, taking advantage of the small gasp you let out to explore your mouth. Without realizing it, you begin to grind on Ellie’s thigh, desperate for friction. You only register you’re doing it when Ellie brings her hand down to grope your ass, forcing you further down on her thigh and quickening your pace. You break the kiss with a soft moan, getting lost in the pleasure until suddenly you find yourself on your back. Ellie slots her body fully over yours, eyeing you up and down with flush cheeks.

“Fuck, babe you’re so fucking beautiful.” She says, tracing her hand along the waistband of your shorts, toying with the fabric. 

“Please Ellie” You whimper, practically writhing under her despite the fact that she's barely done anything yet 

“Please what pretty girl? Use your words.” 

“Touch me, Ellie, please! I-I need you!” You cry out and with a smug smirk, she slides her fingers under your waistband and between your folds

“It's okay baby shh, I got you. Fuck you’re so wet, is all this for me, gorgeous?” All you can do is nod pitifully as her fingers sink into you, a harsh moan tearing from your lips. Her fingers slide easily in and out, your slick walls clenching around her as her face moves to suck marks onto your neck. The pleasure is too much, clenching your eyes shut all you can focus on is the rough pounding of her fingers within you. 

“Fuck, Ellie.. feels so good f-fuck” You incoherently babble as she curls her fingers, hitting your sweet spot and making your vision go dark. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your whole body clenching and shaking around Ellie’s fingers as she praises you. 

“That's it pretty, you did so good for me. You’re so fucking hot, babe.” Ellie removes her fingers and immediately puts them in her mouth, sucking off your slick with a contented moan. “Fucking delicious, will you let me taste more baby? Please?”. Not finding yourself able to speak yet, all you can do is nod and Ellie wastes no time. Clambering off the bed, Ellie grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge, kneeling before you now bare core. Throwing your legs over her shoulders, Ellie dives in, attaching her lips to your swollen clit with a harsh suck. You loudly cry out, hands flying to the back of her head as her tongue begins to rapidly lick and suck all over. You feel your orgasm approaching more quickly than before and you unconsciously begin to grind down on Ellie's face to chase your release. However, your trance is interrupted by a loud shriek

“OH MY GOD! What the fuck guys, what are you doing?!?!” Dina yells from the now open door, shielding her eyes with her hand. You scramble to cover yourself with Ellie's comforter as the woman herself lets out an annoyed groan.

“Is this what it feels like!?! Jesus, it's like walking in on your parents. I’m so sorry, I’ll come back later!” Dina rushes out and slams the door behind her, leaving you and Ellie alone once again. After a moment of silence, Ellie starts to laugh

“Well, at least she knows what it's like now. I doubt they’ll be causing you problems again.” She says between her giggles, grabbing a pair of her boxers to dress you in. You shake off your embarrassment and begin to laugh as well, taking Ellie's hand and tugging her into bed with you. As Ellie wraps you in her arms, you can’t help but think you might have to thank Jesse and Dina for being such sex maniacs.

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an: I love you guys so much, thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my previous posts. Let me know if you guys can access my asks, I wanna get to know yall!! this is my first time writing smut, yall can probably tell LMAO but all feedback is appreciated  ☺︎ 

[itsonlydana]

Noisy Neighbors | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

Your new neighbors have been the bane of your existence - or rather sleep - for the last few nights, always keeping you up with their extensive love life. When you go up to confront the couple, you find another solution to the problem.

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU] threesome, oral (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v, slight choking, brats (reader & Thranduil), mocking & dirty talk, Thranduil being a snarky bitch, he bites a bit, spitting, one ass-slap, praise, pet names, dom!bard, [reader is described with hair no further, no use of y/n]

word count: 6,2k

an: *lifts hands into the air* I'm sorry but writing Thranduil bitchy in this trio is what comes naturally, alright? I've been powering through this whole Sunday and between watching f1 and eating watermelon and packing up for a vacation, this surely made this day better. (not proofread, just wanted this baby out)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

They’re at it. Again! 

Another night and you’re yet again held up by your neighbors fucking for the second time; on a Tuesday no less.

It’s 1 am and nearly seventy-three minutes – timed and noted down in your frazzled brain – after the noise had stopped the first time but now the moaning upstairs continues; this time accompanied by the banging of probably a bed frame that, if the force is anything to go by, is close to smashing in the walls. 

You haven’t seen the new neighbors that had moved into the apartment above you, there had been moving trucks, a handful of handsome and very good-to-look-at guys carrying furniture around the garden and blocking the elevator for hours, leaving cigarette buts around and ringing at yours so often you doubted it was an accident every time, but there had been no one who introduced themselves.

Well, not personally. 

Or rather in person, because what you hear every night is as personal as it gets. 

As you lie in your bed, alone one might add, you wonder who this couple is. 

Not that you have anything better to do. They’re the reason you’ve been either sleepless or fallen asleep to a lovely ASMR of two guys moaning that slowly snuck itself into your dreams; if anyone dares to say it isn’t appropriate or normal to think about the – sex – life of your neighbors you could counter that you had every right! Especially you. 

They’re probably young, you figure, not by the number of times they’re going at each other and the length, god, it has been a good while, that stamina is astounding, but by whatever coherent words you can understand now and again, their voices delimited the range of possible ages. 

And you had seen a pair of laced-up thigh-high black boots walking up the stairs after you had once heard the front door open and raced to peek through the peephole. Another time there had been a pair of very shiny and tight boxers left in the washing room downstairs and while you felt like a creep expecting them hanging on the line a few feet away from you, your basket clutched into your hands as you thought of the other renters here and how often you had seen their underwear, you concluded this must be one of theirs. The shoes as well as the boxers could belong to some older couple but that was most unlikely adding the different factors.

The names on their doorbell say ‘Oropherion & Bowmann’, though no Google search has brought up anything forth that could be them, nothing around this area anyway. 

Another moan rips through the night, guttural and raspy, and by now, that sound’s imprinted into your mind as well as the gasp and shout that follow. A few seconds of bed rattling later the boyfriend/husband/lover roommate with lots and lots of benefits reaches his peak as well in a deep moan that reverberates in your bones and sends a heat to your face and much lower. 

When silence falls, there’s an embarrassing moment of clarity as you release a shaking breath and quickly stand up on shaking legs to open your window, inhaling the cold air outside to fight against the urge to look up some porn and follow their example. 

They’ve gotten to your head, twisted up whatever the stress at work had left to be corrupted into this perverse lust. On the one hand, you’ll do anything for a night of full sleep but on the other hand… what you wouldn’t do to – no, no, no, this route is just a spur of restlessness. Leftover frustration over the last few exes, and dates being unable to bring out whatever your neighbors clearly had no problems with. 

They’re so vocal in their pleasure, that the last experiences of grinding against jeans in dingy club bathrooms or hookups ended in an unsatisfied call to a cab firm makes laying there, listening, fantasizing, even more unbearable. 

Not just because of the few residues of your consciousness, the blaring ‘this is so wrong’ -sign lighting up neon red in your head, but taking in their noises travels a long way through your body and you’re short of actually snapping and resolving the issue of the throbbing inside your pants yourself. 

The silence and air luckily help the cooldown; body and mind alike, and you wait, breathing in and out, calming down. Being up this late (or early) grants you the advantage of hearing the cicadas, the constant clicking, the low buzz of the aircon, and the distant rush of cars passing by. Somewhere there’s laughter, across the street, a TV light flickers through the white curtains fluttering in the opened window. 

People and animals are still up. Life’s going on. Another night of losing sleep isn’t the end of the world, even if the long day ahead will try defiling this feeling of peace that you conjure, brain hooked on the few meditation videos your friend has shown you recently. The stress of this situation manifests in an uncontrollable grumpiness that slips over your tongue and spills out of your eyes like thunderous weather clouded once bright skies – suddenly, one sentence meant nice gets on your nerves. 

You sigh and trot back to the pushed-back covers of your single bed, slipping your naked legs under the thin sheet. This is fine. Completely fine. You just need to close your eyes and concentrate on those damn sheep you had been counting before the rude interruption.

One sheep …. your shoulders sack into the pillow, relaxing slowly.

Two sheep … a heavy yawn breaks through your lips.

Three sheep … finally, you’ll be able to fall asleep. A few hours aren’t preferred, yet they’re better than no sleep at all.

Four sheep — and is that another. fucking. moan?

You sit up in your bed fast enough for dizziness to take over but that isn’t stopping any of the rage that switches your body to autopilot. In seconds after the godforsaken long moan echoes, you’re taking long and hard steps across your apartment, not caring one bit that you’re wearing neither shoes nor a long enough shirt to barely cover your ass and you haven’t even met them so this was neither an appropriate outfit nor emotion to confront them for the first time but fuck propriety!

“Fucking men,” you mumble underneath your breath as you waltz through your front door, – taking one step back to carefully push a sandal in between door and frame –, and then you’re up the stairs. Each step is fueled by that anger, the restlessness that pushes you over. In no other world would you have gotten this infuriated to completely ignore the otherwise introverted side of you, though they have taken it too far, “Just you wait.” 

You basically fly across the corner of the stairway, rushing up the last few steps until you see the dark door, boots standing in front of it, and before you can even think about what you’re about to do, your fists already collide with the wood once, twice, three angry times.

Four for good measure.

Five just because they’re surely taking their time.

Before your hand knocks another time, the door is being ripped open and you’re suddenly face to face with the nightly disturbers of your peace. Or rather face to chest. You’re certain your eyes are still angry because when you lift your chin to look away from those sweaty chests and find their faces, the man closest to you flinches the tiniest bit.

“You’re fucking loud,” you point a finger firstly at them, then down, pronunciation making it clear that you aren’t swearing per se, “I’ve been trying to sleep for so fucking long and I’ll give you one guess why I’m still up and about? Huh? Ever heard of compassion for neighbors or– I don’t know, holding in some of the noises?” Your chest heaves at the row of complaints that spills over your curled lips, cheeks hot and very possibly just as red as they feel.

There is a second of silence where your voice carries through the hallway, bouncing along the walls. 

You take the opportunity to give them a quick once-over, adding a wealth of new details to the mental picture you've been building. The man in front has dark brown, messy hair pulled into a ponytail, with some silver strands curling and sticking wetly to his forehead and temples. He sports a scruffy beard, with stubble on his pinkish cheeks and a thicker mustache over his lips. His body hair trails down, covering his defined chest, and extends further into the tight black boxers you saw in the basement.

The other one is strikingly different. Tall as well, towering over you though this has to do with the ice-cold and annoyed look that bores into you out of blue-grey eyes under heavy eyebrows. Long blonde hair falls over his lean chest, slightly ruffled but that’s no wonder after the two-and-a-half rounds in their bed. His lips are stuck together, adding to his attitude.

Both of them are gorgeous, dressed in nothing but boxers, and their bodies are marked by fingerprints and scratches. And while they surely are a bit older than you, that gap couldn’t be much.

“Wow,” the blonde, the one leaning against the wall behind his partner, the one being more long legs than anything else, rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you lovely?” 

You swear you nearly feel a vein pop. 

“Lovely?” you bring out between clenched teeth. 

The brunette shoots a look over his shoulder, getting a shrug out of the taller one in exchange that most likely means he doesn’t care one bit, and then he turns back to you, offering a crooked smile that sinks in the edge of the right corner, an apology pulling the plush lips down. “I’m sorry,” he starts and nudges his head back, “an’ excuse Thranduil, he can be very – bratty.” The thick accent that curls around the words slightly surprises you but you’re back on track fast.

One eyebrow raised you stare at them. “Sure,” sarcasm drips over your tongue, “and to shut him up you dick him down or what?” In the morning, you’ll probably very much regret this crude language, the dismissive tone that resembles more a hiss than anything else. 

“Yes, actually,” Thranduil cuts in and pushes his sharp chin up, looking down at you over the bridge of his nose. One of his hands, gods, they’re huge, lazily pats the broad shoulders of his partner, long and ringed fingers clanking together. He’s laying down heavily on some possessive shit you couldn’t care less about.

“Bite the curb or turn the moaning down,” you snap back, brows furrowed together. 

“Maybe –” 

“I’m Bard, by the way,” the brunette interrupts him and holds out a hand for you to shake. Hands, that had been who knew where a few minutes ago. Both of you seem to realize this at the same moment and while he cringes and pulls back, you offer your name, only looking at Bard and ignoring Thranduil, draped over Bard's back like a prying cat.

“Nice to meet ya. Thought about coming down a few times but never caught you home,” Bard says, attempting small talk. His effort is overshadowed by the sharp look-over Thranduil gives you, and it's clear that this is not the time to play the friendly neighbor.

You make that clearer by crossing your arms in front of your chest, unconsciously bunching up your shirt, and revealing the black string of your panties. Bard swallows, heavily.

“Well, nice to meet you,” you echo back dryly and cock your hip, “Can I go back to sleep in peace now? Are we done with this?”

Bard’s smile is pained, a bit embarrassed if you have to guess. “Sure, sorry again.”

“I’m not.” 

Thranduil hasn’t even looked at you as he whispers loud enough into Bard’s ears that it’s definitely meant for yours as well. And that piece of shit has the gall to flutter his lashes, his mouth ghosting over the hickey right against Bard’s neck, the offending lips curled into a smirk you want to wipe off. 

The sigh that leaves Bard is deep and deflates his whole chest, his shoulders following the drop of his arms. “Thran–”

“Oh, is that right?” On the contrary, you push your shoulders back and tip your head, sizing up the neighbor who, in your opinion, can move right back out again. No matter how pretty and unfairly sexy he is, that mouth of his ruins it. “Where do you pull out this fucking behavior? I just came here because you two have been going at it for hours and haven’t bothered to think about anyone else. I'm so sorry that –”

“Apology accepted,” Thranduil grins. His grey eyes are gleaming in amusement at your noticeable anger and he makes a high sound out of the back of his throat that sounds a lot like a giggle.

“Fucking hell, Thran!” Bard slaps his hand back, the flat of his palm meeting flexing muscles of Thranduil’s thigh, and lowly, sensually, Thranduil moans. This man is the walking definition of shamelessness.

That sound, the low vibration that usually comes through your walls, shoots to your core so fast that you sputter on the next breath. Hot curling heat makes itself comfortable in your lower stomach and you can’t help but blush – a feast for the unabashed man.

“If I had known we had such’ prude for a neighbor we would’ve found another place,” Thranduil says, most likely just to tease, because in the few minutes you’d known him, he’s definitely a teasing brat.

Ready to fight for yourself you shake your head and furrow your brows further.  “I'm not prude –”

“It’s okay” A Cheshire cat-like smile disproves the false compassion, making it all sound much more patronizing. Thranduil has gotten under your skin, an itch you yearn to scratch however you can, “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No, but I’m not a prude!” You lick your teeth, stepping closer to their door as if that will make your point more convincing than the tight vintage shirt you’re wearing, with a fading Care Bear printed right over your tits.

In mocking, Thranduil rests his chin on Bard’s shoulder, holding your slowly wavering gaze. “Not everybody is comfortable with such an active sex life.”

With ease he smothers every bit of self-control you have left, thinning out your resolve to stand higher than him. You glower, all the thoughts of failed one-night stands pressing onto your tongue and loosening it faster than you can realize what you’re spitting in front of their feet – one statement powerful enough to change the entire atmosphere into another type of tension:

"I would be if I would get it!" 

“Woah, let’s take it a notch back, shall we, hun?” Bard’s soothing voice could have been directed at each or either one of you two, and you notice how heavy your breathing has become, how much your hands twitch pressed against your breasts, and how Bard’s eyes flicker over where the shirt stretches tighter. 

Interesting…

The hand on Thranduil’s thigh wanders higher, immediately capturing your attention and it's the tanned color of it against ivory white that gets you. The difference in softness and hardness, obvious callouses moving over smooth skin. 

As subtly as possible, you shift your weight to squeeze your thighs together, heightening the throbbing evoked by every inch of skin in front of you. 

Neither Thranduil nor Bard misses it. You can tell it by Bard’s eyes darkening, Thranduil’s smirk widening dangerously and their stance, Thranduil’s arms slinging across Bard’s taut stomach, fiddling with the silky band of his boxers, as well as Bard leaning more right – opening up the way into their dark apartment.

“What if –,” Bard starts, fingers digging into Thranduil’s thigh.

Ice-cold eyes that suddenly burn with hot interest look you over, stopping right where the hem of your shirt exposes your underwear, “You could join us?” 

The offer shuts down your body as soon as your mind comprehends what Thranduil’s lowered, honeyed voice had presented to you and unfortunately, the inquiring “huh?” sounds much more like a whimper than originally planned. This question, this golden opportunity presented on a silver platter is fuel to the aching arousal pooling in your stomach and you can’t deny that, while lying in bed at night, listening to their intimacy, hadn’t evoked that dirty thought in you. 

Flushes of heat spread from your pelvis. You lick over your teeth. 

“What?” you laugh nervously. 

“You’ve heard us right,” Thranduil’s hand stills over the v of Bard’s hips. That he doesn’t move is nearly as taunting as the constant toying, wandering, and scratching he had done till then. 

“Pff as if –,” you stutter stubbornly, even if the pooling of wetness in your underwear betrays you, “as if.. as if I'm gonna waltz into the apartment of two strangers.. two men! You could do whatever to me!”

“Yeah, and you heard exactly what we could bring out of you” 

Their moans and the bed slamming against the wall are pretty good arguments against a case already won in their favor, despite how you’re still trying to grasp for straws.

“My organs when you strip me to the bed and murder me silently?”

“Jeez, you have an imagination woman. Is the stick this far up your ass that –”

“Babe!” Bard’s elbow lands in Thranduil’s side, warningly and soft just like his voice.

“No, let him finish” you glare at Thranduil, “I’d like to know what he thinks about presumed stick in my arse and its results.”

“I think you are prude and underfucked, jealous and so stripped up tightly you won't admit that a good fuck – and honey, I’ll deliver nothing less – would loosen you up,” Thranduil finishes his speech with a tip of his head forward, daring you to talk back and gosh, you wish you had some comeback, anything to prove him wrong, however, the wetness that sticks syrupy between your legs strikes out all other thoughts except:

You want them. You want both of these men.

“So—so what?” you retort, knowing they're right, a pout forming on your lips and a persistent crease of defiance. “That's such a testosterone-driven answer; typical man, thinking their cocks are the miracle cure to a woman’s dry spell.”

Even Bard tuts now, his soft eyes falling to your underwear. “You sure? Hun, you can whine all ‘bout but I can see your cute little panties being all wet – oh come on, don’t blush, I see them alright?” And sure, the material may cling to your cunt and the breeze in the hallway coming from an open window enhances that feeling, but– “Darlin’,” Bard chuckles, “Stop thinking, ‘s not that hard to accept you want it. Come on in, let Thranduil apologize sincerely for his hissy fit.”

You huff. 

Thranduil breathes a kiss toward you, pink lips forming a cute heart, and you only think: “Fuck it.”

Thranduil’s mouth, as he proves a few minutes later, is quite good at apologizing, fantastic even.

You’re spread on your back across their bed – ironically you find out it’s directly above yours –, legs opened up by his large hands, the metal of his rings biting ice-cold into the heated flesh as he kneads his fingers into your thighs and teases you most annoyingly by kissing all around your clit. His arms are wrapped around you in a way that's confining you to lie there and take whatever he decides to give you, or not in some moments.

“Pretty girl –,” Thranduil murmurs into the sensitive and practically vibrating skin, “Should’ve known there’s something sweet about that sour tongue.” His tongue is just as bitter, licking straight through your folds, gathering the absurd amount of wetness and ending shortly before your clit to press a wide opened mouth kiss into you. 

Your hips buck upward in desperation and at the same time exhilaration and Thranduil’s biceps flex to pin you down again; giving you no wiggle room.

“Better lie still,” Bard whispers and tilts your head back by the hand he wraps loosely around your throat. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he holds over you. His fingertips close in together, putting the right amount of pressure on your windpipe for you to gasp for air; then he pounces in and takes over your lips in a heated kiss.

Your behavior, because you do in fact give it your best to stop your legs from crushing the head between your legs, is rewarded by Thranduil with the assistance of his tongue finally flicking over your swollen clit, first playfully then in earnest. He closes his lips around the bundle of nerves, grazing his teeth slightly over it and your head would’ve fallen back if it isn’t for the hand holding you to Bard. “Oh fuck,” you whine and grasp down. 

The second you burrow your hands into Thranduil’s hair, twirling some strands around your fingers for a better hold, he moans into you. Hot air meets the wetness of your pussy and the tips of your nails dig slightly into his hair roots. It turns him on more, that you grind yourself desperately against his face, your hands weaved into his hair to get back control and Thranduil’s tongue swipes over your pussy, diving in to plunge the tip into your entrance. 

“That’s it,” he gasps, sending the words straight through you while he fucks his tongue back into you a few times. Then he switches back to sucking on your clit and doesn’t stop; no matter how your thighs shook and fought to shut close, he stayed on his task of taking you completely into his mouth and rolling his tongue in figure-eights, circling in closer and closer. 

The sounds of Thranduil eating you out are pornographic, slickness from your spit and wetness, his ever-constant breathing and relentless swirls through your pussy that have your back in a wonderful arch. Bard’s lips swallow most of your whimpers up, and when he starts to lick his tongue against yours, teeth playfully tugging on your lower lip, you feel the stars before you see them. 

It starts up fast, heading toward you at full speed and you choke out your orgasm in a broken wail, fingers tightening in Thranduil’s hair. When he doesn’t stop and stimulation becomes overstimulation, your eyes flutter to escape the nearly drunken stare of his gray eyes hidden under long lashes and finally, he slows down. Bard too, leaves your lips in one last, dragged-out kiss that you want to chase after; his mouth is too sweet and gentle, a perfect harmony of caring and hunger.

“All attitude until the attitude drips down her legs and messes up our bedsheets,” Thranduil laughs huskily and wipes the back of his hand over his glistening lips and chin. He puckers his mouth, a wide grin on his face as he crawls up to you. “Now, how do you want this?”

Breathless, you look up to Thranduil and Bard, the latter already moving to shed himself of his boxers. When you see what Bard packs under the tight black underwear a wheezing laugh escapes your throat.

“Yeah,” you scoff at his arched eyebrow, “I would be fucking that multiple times as well.” 

His cock stands heavy against his stomach, thick and bobbing, white precum rolling down the veins. “Like what you see?” Bard teases, one hand wrapped around himself, leisurely stroking up and down. “I’ll let you have a taste if you’re good.”

A large palm spreads over your abdomen and Thranduil slides two fingers down to pinch your still sensitive clit so you yelp and scowl at him. “You won’t be getting any of that tonight,” his voice sounds threateningly possessive, and at the sight of his much taller body towering over yours and that look in his eyes, your stomach flips. “Don’t think I’ll let you hop on there after you disturbed us. Tonight –,” Again, that word that emphasized like he did promises more nights after this, “tonight he’s mine.” The last bit he whispers into your ear, the soft locks of his hair brushing your still-covered chest. 

All that Thranduil had time to undress you for, had been your underwear and those had landed ripped into two somewhere in the darkness of their bedroom. This meant you would have to borrow some of theirs or rush downstairs with your cunt on display and after this should be over, you have no idea if you would even be able to walk. 

Thranduil, by the feeling of his bulge pressing into your stomach, isn’t small either. That cockiness had to have a source somewhere and they don’t call it that for no reason.

Bard’s laughter interrupts the staring contest you two have going on, otherwise you’re not sure how long it would’ve gotten on or who would’ve quit first; not you, he could poke his cock into you however he wants. The other man walks around the bed, heading to the end where Thranduil’s long legs hang off and by the sudden twitch in the body crowding yours into the mattress and the cry Thranduil lets out, you strongly think there has been a tickling involved. 

You laugh as well, the sound dying swiftly when Thranduil turns back to you and grinds his hips into you. All that comes out then, is a straggled whine. 

“Fucking asshole,” you grumble and pull on his hair again, forcing his head down for you to kiss his wet lips. 

Able to taste yourself on his tongue, you greedily open your mouth further, and Thranduil wastes no second to dominate. He takes over the kiss, distracting you just enough that you don’t notice Bard taking off Thranduil’s boxers until the cock against your stomach twitches at a particular noise out of the back of your throat and precum dribbles onto your skin. 

“Someone’s eager,” you tease.

Thranduil promptly bites you in return. “Says the slut moaning under me,” he retorts, scratching his canines across your neck. “Now, take that skimpy shirt off or I’ll rip it like that sad excuse of underwear.” 

You roll your eyes but follow his demand, pulling the tight shirt off and flinging it away. Free for him to touch, Thranduil’s fingers of one hand find your right tit, and, putting the rock-hard pebble in between them, he steals the air out of your lungs pulling and twisting your nipples. “At least, oh fuck you –!” 

Your attempt to speak gets drowned out by a cry of need and suddenly, you’re getting crushed into the mattress by Thranduil’s heavy weight, his fingers still tight around your nipple and his mouth close to your ear. His ass is the only thing not forcing you down. 

Bard, who has been silently chuckling and observing until now, decided the time’s right to move this forward and over the head of blonde hair pushing itself into the crook of your neck, panting hotly and frustrated, you see Bard circling his rim with two fingers. 

“So that’s what shuts you up,” you whisper for Thranduil to hear. 

He lifts his head slightly, though the angry eyebrows fall quickly at another moan.

Behind Thranduil, illuminated by the moonlight outside, Bard looks positively majestic and dominating, his shoulder-length hair free from the ponytail, falling ruffled into his face as he inhales and forcefully spits down to where his fingers are slowly pushing further into the ass presented to him. 

“That’s good, Darlin’,” he praises and Thranduil keens, eyes full of hearts, “Push back a bit, makin’ it easy for me, aren’t you? Go on, sweetheart.” At your gasp – you’re not unaffected by the praise, not at all and if you weren’t coming down from a sensational orgasm that had your clit in flames.. – Bard looks up and winks at you. “Go on. Wonderful, you’re just the best. Look at you, beautiful.” He’s obviously talking to Thranduil but you follow his command despite it; the aura around Bard makes it impossible to do anything less than obey. 

Lying there under these two men, feeling their weight, hearing their moans and the rasps of their deep voices, and being clouded in the smell of sweat, cum, and body odors mixing, is fulfilling fantasies you hadn’t been creative enough to think up.

“Oh – Bard, can you – hah, yes, there –” Thranduil arches into the touch catlike, his back up in the air and the curve of his spine glistening, now that a few drops of sweat are decorating the skin, marked in pink trails of fingernails of a hand that twists slightly and adds another finger. 

Your chest is full of blonde hair, platinum after another inspection, strands perfect to comb your hands through. Thranduil’s lashes flutter beautifully. His lips open up, puffing out airy breaths, pink plush lips coated in spit after he runs his tongue over them. 

Biting down a comment of how he had been right about the ‘shutting up and dicking down’, you act without thinking. The kiss is much slower and sensual than the last, maybe to distract Thranduil from that pain/pleasure that Bard afflicts on him, opening him up four fingers at one time. Soon though, the grind of Thranduil’s hips becomes too much to endure, he already left a wet trail of precum all over you and while you’re still gasping into his mouth, you blindly reach between your bodies. 

“Goddamit,” you grunt, angling your hips slightly, “You’re no help at all.”

“What?” Thranduil groans and everything vibrates, “I’m the one having four fingers up my arse, can’t you just wait a fucking second?” 

“Mhm, no.”

“You’re such a brat,” he leans down, hair fanning over you and trapping you in a bubble where it’s just you, his panting breath and the fire in his eyes; he’s gorgeous. “I’m sorry but –”

“Apology accepted,” you cut him off, smiling sweetly.

A second later you swear you’re being ripped apart; immediately tears spring into your eyes, hiding Thranduil’s satisfied smirk behind a watery curtain as he pushes his cock in further, stretching you past known limits. The only proof that you’re still breathing is the pitchy moan, the whine that follows the stretch of inch after inch.

“Fuuck–” 

It’s going on forever. The rocking of Thranduil’s hips. The slow drill of his cock pushing its way through you, carving a spot into your clenching walls. Surely it’ll come out of your throat. 

You blink fast, regain your vision, and look down.

“Oh my fucking god,” you slap a hand against Thranduil’s shoulder, trying to get a grip on reality, “How are you this big?”

“He’s a mouthful,” Bard pitches in, grinning, and finally reaches a point where he has prepared Thranduil enough. He spits again; once into his hand, which he immediately closes around his cock again, and once between the globes of Thranduil’s ass, watching it trail down. Bard gathers some of Thranduil’s long hair to gently push it over his side. “Are you ready, my love?” he bows down for a soft kiss to the protruding bones of Thranduil’s arched spine.

Ironically, that's what finally gets you and Thranduil on the same page. 

A page that was full of unintelligible curses, punctuated by groans and underlined by hands grabbing for each other. 

Your hand digs itself into Thranduil’s back as he finally bottoms out, buried so deep you can feel him in the back of your throat – or that’s the pressure from that massive cock bullying your insides – and he stills, hipbones digging into you as well as if he hasn’t already marked you up enough with his girth.

Bard reaches forward, thus pushing in faster than Thranduil expects it and your fingers intertwine over the blonde's back. Electricity zips through you, starting from your toes pressing into the sheets, up your shaking thighs to your clenching cunt, and higher up your spine into your head.

Thranduil, fully sandwiched between you, can do nothing except follow the unforgivable rhythm Bard sets. 

The bed creaks as he rocks into you, just when Bard pushes in. The start is messy, lots of “There–” and “Fuck, slower–” until they change it up. 

Thranduil’s breathing is ragged and erratic as he moves against you, his hips pistoning against yours in a steady, firm rhythm. His arms hold you in place, his body covering you completely, lips moving along your neck and shoulder. You, being just on the receiving end, take everything he gives.

“Finally out of complaints, aren’t you?” he angles his hips to thrust harder. “A – ahh – all you needed was a good cock to shut you up.” 

You almost gag on a whine, proving him just right. “No– so-ohh – not true.”

A fleeing look to Bard and you’re silently begging. For what you don’t know. Maybe his support. Maybe to fuck Thranduil hard enough he swallows his words.

“Oh, Thranduil,” Bard starts and you truly think he’ll be on your side,  “If she’s still trying to mouth back you’re doing something – fuck – wrong!”

Thranduil laughs, fucking laughs. Each snap of his hips fills the room with shameless sounds, and as painful as it is to admit, his low baritone causes your pussy to clench tighter, dripping arousal. The fire they started burns higher when he wedges one hand down between your legs, somehow landing on your clit perfectly despite the brutal pace of his and Bard’s thrust. 

“You should’ve come up the first day you heard us,” Thranduil spits out, “Could’ve had this cock making you happy every night. You needed this, right? Someone, to fuck you stupid? Did you lie awake all night and listened to Bard fucking me, fiddling with yourself as if your dumb little fingers could ever come close to this?” His middle finger demonstratingly flicks your clit up.

“Please, oh– please, please,” you sob, the messy circles he’s rubbing with his thumb dumbing you down to a mumbling mess. Pleasure dances in every vein, lights up nerve endings in white-hot fire. 

"Gosh, I think I’m feeling that stick I had been talking about,” Thranduil rasps, pressing his palm against your lower stomach, bringing out another wail, “Oh wait no, that's just me giving you exactly what you needed." 

You’re wringing out his cock, every stroke sends him deeper and deeper, crushing your g-spot, urged on by the slaps of Bard’s balls. He’s taking it slower, staying against Thranduil’s prostate and spreading his hands in the long hair to control when his boyfriend slams into you. 

“C’mon, honey. Be good and come on Thran’s cock, won’t you? He’s so sorry for his bratty behavior but as you can see –” Bard sends his hand down swiftly, shocking you as his palm lands flat on Thranduil’s right cheek with a loud ‘smack’; a scream of pleasure and Bard pats the already reddening skin, “he’s insatiable.” 

That’s what does it for you, in the end. 

Already spiraling toward the edge with Thranduil’s pace and his fingers slipping, rubbing, flicking in all directions, it’s the calmness in Bard that sends you over. The relaxed hold in Thranduil’s hair, how he thrones above you, patiently waiting for his turn because he’s already fucked Thranduil twice tonight – what are another few minutes of watching you slurring their names?

If Thranduil’s cock broke you in half, the orgasm that spikes through you angrily and into every cell splinters whatever’s there to shred. It’s blinding, hot and cold, a wildfire and ice bath. It’s the strongest you’ve cum in a while and your brain shuts down. 

Thranduil groans as you clench around him, but, sensing – or seeing it in your fucked out expression – that you can’t take anymore, he drags his cock out of you. 

Half conscious your head drops to the side as you try to catch a breath that isn’t sweat and hair. Through blurred eyes, you have a front-row seat to the change in Bard. He swiftly lifts his head once, shaking back his hair and exposing the long column of his throat and the muscles that flex in his shoulder, before he’s sprawled atop Thranduil, grabbing the red and heavy cock wet with your cum and fucks him. 

Raw and unapologetic. 

Fingers pull on Thranduil’s hair, forcing his head back into his neck and Thranduil groans, arching his back closer to Bard. It’s a glorious sight, their hips meeting again and again, Bard’s hand wrapped around Thranduil’s cock, pulling and jacking him off in that same rhythm that Thranduil had rubbed you earlier.

Bard’s panting as well now, grinding more than thrusting and watches himself disappear inside Thranduil. “You feel so good, Thran–” he mumbles, “one more time for me, alrigh’ gorgeous? You did perfectly tonight, taking me three times.”

The praise continues to rain, hailing down like the short and precise twitches of Bard’s hips and when Thranduil hits the bed in a low moan of Bard’s name, coating the bedsheets underneath him white, Bard follows shortly after; buried deep inside his boyfriend.

For a while, the room is filled with efforts to catch your breath. Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, glistening on Thranduil and Bard lying close to each other next to you as well. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, “the neighbors are gonna hate us.”

[imaginesmai]

Your name on my body - modern!Azriel

Beautiful and amazing @thehighladywrites posted this INCREDIBLE idea and I had to try it. I've never written a modern!acotar AU, a college!acotar AU or nerdy-tattooed!Azriel. I haven't written bimbo!reader, and since English is not my first language, I don't know if I have done it right. I enjoyed this sooooo much, let me know if you want more or have some requests!

Extra points for whoever gets the crescent city saga reference!

Plot: nerd-tattooed!Azriel gets a tattoo with your name and it leads to smutty time.

Warnings: porn and porn and Azriel being freaky and porn with just an inch of plot. This is dirty.

The door of the apartment closed behind your back and you were met with an empty living room. You usually didn’t come in unannounced, because Azriel’s shared apartment always had some type of surprise. But your boyfriend had asked you to do so, and to use the spare key he had given you a while ago.

Azriel had been studying for his finals for weeks, and had finally finished them. Instead of going out to celebrate like you had, he had stayed in with his friends. You hadn’t seen each other too much, apart from the long hours in the library where he tried to help you with your exams – and you didn’t count those hours, since you did nothing more than stare at him.

The apartment, as expected, was trashed. There were beer bottles in the ground, suspicious stains in the carpet and a very naked Cassian sleeping in the couch. You had just barely gotten out of your hangover, and Azriel’s roommate was about to start his.

Through all the chaos, you were certain none of it belonged to Azriel. He liked to party, sure, but not hard and long as you. He preferred to stay quiet and observe, with a drink that lasted him the whole night. You were trying to remember if the heel that poked through the back of the couch was from your friend when you heard him coming.

“This way, princess”

His deep, morning voice made you turn around and stumble to his presence. Like a serpent caught in a sweet melody, you were always pulled towards him. Azriel was wearing a grey t-shirt and black shorts, that fit him like a globe. Dark glasses and disheveled hair. And lots of tattoos that you had traced previously with your fingers and tongue.

“Hey, handsome” you greeted him, not hiding your bright smile. “Got your text this morning. What were you doing up so early?”

“Hit the gym before breakfast. Not all of us are hangover”

“Tell that to the other half of the campus or your roommates. Rhysand spent the night with Feyre in the rooftop”

Your roommate hadn’t appeared last night, and you had found a very cryptic text that morning that led you to the rooftop – where both her and Rhysand were fast asleep with the bottle still uncorked.

As soon as you were within reach, Azriel pulled you closer by your waist and smashed his lips against yours. He tasted like coffee and mint, and erased any trace of drunkenness from last night. You tangled your manicured fingers between his locks, shamefully scratching the nape of his neck with your long nails.

They differed from Azriel’s bitten ones. Your short dress from his baggy clothes, and your dyed hair from his untamed ones. While you liked to shine in the public, to dress up and party, Azriel preferred to be quiet, thrift clothes and study. To the campus, you were the bimbo, and he was the nerd.

But you were his bimbo and he was your nerd.

“How was the party?” Azriel asked between kisses, his lips not staying for too long on yours.

“Good. Missed you” you almost whined when he pulled back too soon, and he chuckled.

“Missed you too. Did you have fun?”

You hummed as his hands lowered until they cupped the edge of your ass. The dress was short enough he could pull it up until anyone could see your panties, but neither of you cared. He had to lean down to do so, and you took advantage to deepen the kiss.

On the outside, Azriel might have looked like the shy, nerdy student, but he was freaky. You had been surprised when a hook-up with your assigned tutor turned out in the best night of your life, and there was nothing that could unhook you from him.

His hands were big enough to squeeze most of your ass, kneading it just like you loved it. Roughly, you were pushed into his body. Azriel was always semi-hard when you came to view, and you always took care of choosing the shortest and most provocative dress in his presence.

Few things were better than a good night out and a good morning fucking.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Can I take you to my room?”

“You don’t have to ask”

But he did, breaking away your heated kiss. Azriel pushed the bridge of his glasses up and gave you a crooked smile, offering you his hand. You gladly took it and let him guide you to his room. The farthest, the darkest, but also the neatest. Azriel spent a good part of his time in there, and you loved it. He had incorporated you slowly in it, from the spare clothes in his closet for you to the stupid crafts you did together when you were bored.

“And what did you do last night? Started studying for the next semester?” you teased him, and he gave you a sideway look.

“I could, but I was busy with Mor”

“What were you doing with Mor?”

Your frown was instant, as the jealousy that rose to your chest. Morrighan was his friend, and you respected that, but you knew he had liked her in the past. That the woman was gorgeous, brilliant and smart in ways you didn’t complement Azriel. You liked her enough to be kind and maybe envious, but the notice of her with Azriel left you with a sour taste in the mouth.

Azriel chuckled at the edge of your tone and didn’t answer. If anyone had reasons to be jealous, was him, yet he never was. You had quite the reputation in college, and dressed to impress. More than once, you had been walking with Azriel and received not so subtle glances. You had even gotten the barista’s number when you asked for his order. And through all of that, Azriel had just shrugged and told you he trusted you.

So, for his sake, you tried to do the same.

During the longest seconds in your life, you were quiet. You sat on his bed and crossed your arms across your chest. Azriel closed the door behind him, just as you heard the first groan from his roommate, and turned around so he could face you.

The height difference, the size difference, warmed you in every place of your body. Azriel loved the gym just as he loved his books, and there was not a part of his body that he didn’t work. You liked the difference, liked his big form and how it towered over you even standing. As you sat in silence, you bit the inside of your cheek to control yourself.

“We went to the tattoo parlor, since she knows the owner. I wanted something done” he watched your frown with diversion, and continued when you said nothing. “So, you can be jealous of her, who has a girlfriend now, but I’m supposed to be fine with guys drooling over you last night?”

“I didn’t look at them”

“I didn’t look at her” he answered back, and took off his tee.

The sleeveless piece of cloth didn’t hide much, but you still lost your breath when it hit the ground. His muscled, tattooed chest came to view, and that was enough to make you get up. It wasn’t Mor’s lips that had left marks two nights ago on his left shoulder, or who had bitten his pierced nipple until he had come into his pants in the library’s bathroom.

It was you who had caused the tent in his pant, that caused his eyes to darken when you stepped closer. You placed your hand over his right thigh, the muscles tightening underneath. His boner hit your stomach and you pushed yourself against it, opening your mouth to apologize, or maybe to suck the life out of him.

“Don’t you want to know what I got?” he asked, sounding on edge.

“I don’t understand half of your tattoos. Whatever you got is hot and perfect, just like you”

“Look down, princess” Azriel groaned when your nail touched his dick.

“On my knees?”

You were ready to do so, or let him bend you over the table. He could do with your body as he pleased, but you were caught off guard when you noticed the reddish, new ink wrapped in invisible paper. It looked delicate against the rest of his tattoos, new and beautiful. Right between his hips, where the dark trail of dark hair had just been removed, was a new tattoo.

In his v-line, that you licked and adored and stared at so much. With the nickname he had gifted you since he met you and the stupid, childless heart you drew on every notebook of his.

Princess ♡

Your breath came out shaky as you traced the letters with your finger. If it wasn’t for the make-up, you had so carefully put on that morning with a killing headache, you would have burst into tears. His own hand covered yours and helped you trace the missing letters, and the heart.

It should have been distracting to look at it while his dick demanded your attention inches lower, but you couldn’t look away. Not when you felt a hard clench on your heart that left you lightheaded.

“Do you like it?” it was a whisper in the dark room, a spark of doubt that made you look up.

How could you not like it, not like anything about such a perfect man? You nodded enthusiastically, your other hand searching blindly for his.

“Why did you get that?”

“Because I love you, and I want to carry you with me always” Azriel’s eyes were kind, and soft, and loving – and they were making you dizzy with desire.

“Did it hurt too much?” you asked, looking down again at the tattoo. You, who had smooth and unmarked skin, couldn’t phantom the pain of a nursing needle to draw blood. “It must have”

“Worth every second. Lay in bed, princess. I need to be between your legs”

He didn’t let you take the initiative and threw you on his bed with a quick move. Azriel towered over you for a second before kneeling between your already open, wide legs, and leaving his glasses on the. He smirked with no doubts as he pulled the hem of your dress over your panties. His fingers were rough, pressing hard enough to leave red marks on its way.

You only bit your lower lip when he rose your dress to your waist and sneaked his hand beneath, the edge of his fingers pressing over your breasts.

With the idea of that outcome, you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and his eyes darkened even more at the discovery. You watched his throat work around the new information as he rose his body higher, now covering your breasts with his hands. He squeezed them, keeping them trapped in his palms as he lowered where you needed him.

“I’m gonna erase all those looks from last night” he promised, hands retreating following your curved. “Whose got you this wet, hm?”

“Azzie, don’t be mean”

Azriel was in your hands the moment his nickname fell from your lips, and at your mercy when you used that whiney, flirty tone. He didn’t even bother taking off your panties – he tore them off. Like a sheet of paper, like a piece of cake. You moaned his name, and it came out like a yelp when he dug in without reservations.

His tongue was feral as he licked a long stripe between your entrance to your clit. He pressed it against your clit and actually trapped it between his teeth for a moment. The barrier between pain and pleasure was hard to tell when he snuck his hands under your ass and lifted you a few inches for him to devour.

“Love this so much” you spoke with a content smile, as he massaged your ass in silent appreciation. “Love you”

One of your hands reached to his hair, pushing his face closer to your center. He agreed and pushed one finger inside you. Your mind emptied when he began pumping it in and out, curling it just in the right spot before pulling out and replacing it with his tongue.

Cassian pounded on the wall and yelled at you to be quiet, and Azriel pounded back harder as a fuck you response. You didn’t have it in you to care about him as Azriel pulled you closer by the ass, your legs laying boneless against his wide back.

His nose brushed your clit, up and down, and you weren’t sure he could breathe from how passionate and hard he was eating you out. You called his name wordlessly, your mouth emitting only broken noises.

“So good for me, princess. My beautiful princess” his voice was guttural, so primal it made you lock his head between your legs. “Give me one, come on. Give me the first one so I can wreck you from behind”

“That sounds clinically dangerous!”

Azriel growled against your clit and parted your folds with his chin. He ran his lips through all of them, and by the time he pushed his finger back in, you were cumming on his face and screaming so loud his name you could have woken up the rest of the campus. He caressed your lower regions as you came down from your high, accompanying your orgasm with lazy, long stripes through your folds.

When Azriel came back up, his chin and mouth bright from your juices and his hair sticking in every direction, you were already ready for round two. He didn’t need to be told, and he rose leaving a trail of bites up your body.

He briefly stopped to leave two twin marks between your breasts, so round and perfect and purple you were squirming under him again.

“Azzie” it had been the only word you were capable of saying, and your mind cleared down for a second

“Was that good? Worthy princess treatment after a night out?” Azriel asked, leaving wet kisses on your neck.

“Perfect”

You hugged his back as he pulled himself above you, and your nails left angry, red marks across his lower waist. You pulled the band of his sport shorts and underwear down, and squeezed his hard ass just like he had been doing to yours. His dick sprung free with little effort, and he rubbed himself against your side as you caught your breath.

It wasn’t a one-time thing with Azriel, and you heard Cassian muttering about calling 911 before turning on the music. It took Azriel at least three of your orgasm to be content, and he could cum another three before he let you go. He always stopped, for your sake, when your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore and you had tears ruining your perfect make-up.

Few things turned him more on than being the cause of that ruined make-up.

Before he could empty your mind again, you quickly brought up the only coherent thought that kept pounding your head.

“I want your name too. On me”

“A tattoo?” he raised a brow.

Azriel didn’t stop rubbing himself slowly but tightly against your thigh. His hand was over your sore cunt, in a possessive manor he only showed inside the bedroom. At your petition, he pressed his finger tighter.

“Here. Between my breasts, with your name” you quickly explained. “I want Azzie between my breasts, so each time someone looks at me, he knows these are yours”

“You are mine”

None of your relationships had lasted as long or had been as deep. You were the type of girl who would have his ex-name tattooed, but truth was you were wary of tattoos, and Azriel knew that. He had tried to get you into a simple one, something he could draw for you and hold your hand through it.

His body was a map of ink and drawings, some of them goofy and some of them deep. He liked your innocent, smooth skin, but he found himself breathing harder at the thought of his name on your chest. Thinking of how many kisses, how many marks he would leave there every given moment.

Azriel recalled not a month ago pulling down your cleavage between classes to kiss your nipples sore, the hand he always sneaked to unclasp your bra and touch you beneath the lace. His name, the nickname that brought him to his knees, decorating that skin.

“Are you sure?” he didn’t want to get his hopes up, not when he was ready to tattoo you himself right then and there. With Cassian playing loud classical music in the next room.

“And a crown drawn by you on the top” you rose a teasing eyebrow at his lack of movement, given the discussion for finished. “Are you going to wreck me from behind or do I have to ask Cassian for help?”

Azriel broke into a loud laugh before smacking your cunt loudly, then manhandling you around. With his left arm holding you by your waist, he pressed himself against your back. His dick brushed all the right spots between your bodies, but your hands were trapped under you and you couldn’t touch him.

Complaining would only make him take out those beautiful handcuffs you knew he owned so you only bit your lip and whined like the good girl you were for him.

“I’m gonna tattoo my name between your breasts, if that’s what you want” he whispered against your ear, his other hand appearing around your throat. “I love you so much, princess. So fucking much”

Azriel squeezed your throat at the same time he entered you with a rough, only thrust. It avoided the moan that died in your chest, that had you rolling back your eyes in pleasure. It didn’t stop Azriel from moaning your name out loud, loud enough for Cassian to turn up the stupid music.

The headboard banged against the wall and his glasses fell to the ground, as he left you no room to breathe, to recover. Maybe he had managed to shut you down, but he was doing nothing about his own sounds. You were vaguely aware of Cassian slamming the door of the apartment after screaming some profanities, but you didn’t acknowledge him.

Not when Azriel seemed to be trying to tattoo his name deep into your body and soul.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes

[hoshigray]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote. 

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now. 

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project. 

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off. 

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right? 

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!” 

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?” 

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.” 

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?” 

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment. 

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall. 

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment. 

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch. 

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh.  God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off. 

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.” 

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress. 

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy. 

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you. 

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face. 

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute. 

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him. 

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.” 

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at. 

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face. 

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again. 

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra. 

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly. 

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze. 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out. 

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air. 

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip. 

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…” 

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him. 

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more. 

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud. 

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more. 

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!” 

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.” 

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.” 

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts. 

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs. 

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on. 

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.  

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit. 

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second. 

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!” 

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough. 

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm. 

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly. 

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you. 

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?” 

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips. 

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you. 

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi. 

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders. 

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness. 

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two. 

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him. 

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.” 

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!” 

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other. 

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves. 

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you. 

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least —  there might be something going on with you and Y/n?” 

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy. 

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.  

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said. 

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you. 

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two. 

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome. 

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him. 

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter. 

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry. 

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time His Older Brother Gave Him A Tarot Reading”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, reader is not present, Sukuna is pining hard

Word Count: 1.26k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna isn’t one to make time for his family. Although he has an identical twin brother who bothers him far too much for his liking and an older half brother, he almost never talks about them and spends even less time talking too them. But today he was feeling nice… which is strange for him, but regardless, he decided to agree to come by his brothers’ apartment.

And was quickly reminded of why he never comes over.

Sukuna was seated on the antique couch while Choso kneeled in front of the coffee table between them, flickering candles on every surface bathing the living room in a soft warm glow and reflecting on the shiny surfaces of the crystals placed meticulously all over the table. Choso opened up a small black box, pulling intricately designed tarot cards from inside and fanning them between his fingers before spreading them face down across the table.

Sukuna really was trying not to roll his eyes at the whole ordeal, but the man can only take so much before he’s bound to cave, “This is so stupid.”

“Shh…” Choso leans forward and presses his finger over Sukuna’s lips.

“Don’t touch me.” He grumbles.

“Shut up,” Choso loses his calm demeanor for only a second before he’s closing his eyes again, “I’m focusing.”

“On what?”

“I’m tuning in…” He wiggles his fingers over the cards, “to the energies.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Sukuna rubs his temples, “When did you start doing this witchcraft shit again?”

“Not witchcraft,” Choso peeks one eye open to shoot a quick glare at his brother, “And yesterday.”

“Oh you’re a real professional huh?” He smirks down at him.

“Sukuna,” His shoulders slump and he lets out a frustrated huff, “Just, fucking shut up.”

The two of them squint as the lights suddenly flick on, Yuuji not quite getting the memo of what’s going on downstairs as he leans his head over the stair railing to peek into the living room, “Ooh, how’s the satanic ritual going?” He calls out from the stairway.

“Yuuji!” The two of them call out in unison. He lets out a little “Oops” and flicks the light back off, running back to his room upstairs.

Choso rubs his eyes, smudging his eyeliner onto his fingers, “Okay just, pick a card.”

Sukuna huffs out an annoyed breath, reaching forward and tapping his pointer finger on one of the cards in the middle. Choso slides the card down in front of Sukuna and flips it over, revealing an upside down picture of a man sitting upright in a bed with his head in his hands and swords neatly stacked on the wall behind him.

“Oh, interesting.” Choso mumbles.

“The fuck is he crying about?” Sukuna leans down and squints at the card on the table, “It’s upside down.”

“It’s reversed,” Choso clarifies, “The nine of swords reversed.”

“Choso, I don’t know what the hell that means.”

The long haired man sits up a little straighter, pointing at the card with a manicured finger, “This first card is your past. The next will be the present, and the last will be your future.” He picks the card up and scans it carefully, “You were… struggling, alone, not one to talk to others even when you need to-“

“What is this fuckin’ therapy?”

Choso groans and rolls his eyes, “God knows you need it, but no. Anyway,” He clears his throat, “You were in a downward spiral, but this is past tense, clearly you’re more open now considering,” He gestures vaguely around the room, “Well, you’re here for once.”

Sukuna is visibly annoyed, not a fan of being picked and prodded at. Choso places the card back down on the table, gesturing for Sukuna to pick another one, which to Choso’s surprise and for Sukuna’s morbid curiosity, he does; tapping his finger on a card pushed to the side of the table.

Choso flips the card over, and once again, it's upside down. It pictures a man sitting cross crossed in front of a tree, three golden goblets on the grass in front of him and a fourth being given to him from a disembodied hand floating next to him.

He’s really fuckin’ bad at organizing his cards.

Choso’s gaze flickers between Sukuna and the card, his brows furrowed in thought so clearly that you could almost see cogs turning behind his eyes, “Four of cups… reversed.”

“The hell does reversed mean?”

“It’s usually a negative version of the card’s meaning.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Oh fuckin’ lovely.”

Choso props his elbow onto the table, tracing the outline of the card with his finger, “You’re withdrawing-“

“Well yeah. No shit,” Sukuna cuts him off, “You’re telling me I’m cursed. What’s the damn card mean?”

“That is what the card means, idiot. You’re reluctant to open up to someone.”

Sukuna leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugs, “Maybe the future card will clarify.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs. Choso looks up at him with confusion, “I told you this was stupid, I’m not picking another.”

The light flicks on once again, Sukuna groans at the sound of Yuuji’s voice yelling from the stairway, “Sounds like someone’s a fucking pussy!”

“Yuuji, quit eavesdropping or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.”

The light flicks back off.

Choso looks up at Sukuna expectantly, and after glaring down at him for a moment he breaks, rolling his eyes and flipping over a random card, “If it’s upside down I swear to fucking god-“

“Oh shit!”

“What?” Sukuna sounds almost startled, looking down at the card he sees that this one is upright; picturing a naked man and woman standing in front of some kind of angel. But he’s quickly able to gather the most damning part of the card.

The bottom of the card says “The Lovers.”

“Oh fuck off.”

A smile spreads across Choso’s face, “I don’t think I need to explain this one to you. And it’s not upside down.”

“Reversed.” Sukuna mockingly clarifies.

“Shut up,” Choso leans forward, grin still plastered on his lips, “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody, this shit isn’t real.” Sukuna scowls, but deep down he’s glad the room is so dark to hide the tint in his cheeks.

It’s not fucking real idiot. Stop it.

“How about this,” Choso clasps his hands together, looking up towards the ceiling, “If this shit is real, give us a sign.”

Yuuji flickers the lights.

“No! Stop interfering, this is serious!” Choso yells out towards the stairway.

But Sukuna’s blood runs cold as his phone buzzes in his pocket, quiet enough that no one could hear, but he could feel it.

It’s not real.

The room is silent for a moment as Choso scans for any type of sign, but it’s as if the world had completely stopped turning, not even the candles were flickering. Choso plops his head onto the coffee table, mumbling under his breath, “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

“Mhm.” Sukuna hums, putting up a disinterested front as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “Can we watch a movie or something now like a normal family?”

Choso defeatedly blows out the candles, collecting his crystals and placing his tarot cards neatly back into the box, “Fine, fine, but I still think it’s real.”

Sukuna’s heart nearly stops beating when he unlocks his phone and sees a text from you, “If u leave dirty dishes in the sink one more time I’m actually gonna kill u in your sleep.”

God I hope it’s fucking real.

A/N: Family bonding time has never been so awkward, anyway here’s that time Sukuna started to believe in magic, or witchcraft, or anything if it means you like him as much as he likes you. Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[coryosmin]

complaining to best friend coryo about how you always have to fake your orgasms with your partners/hookups and he’s like…girl let me show you how it’s done

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader | fingering (f), p in v, unprotected sex, etc. | modern au

“you know,” you began speaking as you sat down next to coryo on the couch of your guys’ shared living room. being besties, you both decided to become roommates a while back and it’s been going really well. “last nights hookup was so bad,” you sighed dramatically, resting your head on coryo’s shoulder.

coryo was looking at the TV, playing a video game. he wasn’t playing anything strenuous, just minecraft because he was bored and needed something to do. “why’s that?” he asked, glancing down at you before back at the screen.

“i had to fake my orgasm,” you groaned. “i always have to fake them whenever i hook up with someone.”

coryo froze for a second, pausing his game before looking down at you. “why do you fake them?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“because no one has ever made me finish before,” you said. “and i don’t want to hurt their feelings by saying i didn’t cum.” you explained, looking up at coryo as your head was still rested on his shoulder.

“has anyone ever made you cum before?”

“only myself.”

coryo quirked an eyebrow. “clearly you’ve never been with someone worth your time then,” he exclaimed, pulling away from you to look at your face properly.

you lifted your head up, looking at your best friend. “and what do i do about that?” you asked.

“let me show you how it’s done,” coryo suggested, smirking at you.

which led to you on coryo’s lap, your back pressed against his chest as his fingers were underneath the hem of your pants, fingering your pussy. you moaned, leaning back against coryo who was pressing kisses along the nape of your neck.

“you’re so wet,” he murmured against your skin. he thrusted his fingers fast, the sounds of your pussy filling the room. you moaned in response, grinding your hips in rhythm to his hand. coryo let out a small groan as he felt you grinding against his hand, your ass pressed against his hard cock.

“so good,” you moaned, closing your eyes in pleasure.

and just as you felt your orgasm approaching, coryo stopped, causing you to whine as he removed his fingers from your cunt.

coryo let out a soft chuckle, gripping your hips and moving you to the side so that you’re sitting on the couch instead of his lap. “gonna fuck you now,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before standing up. his hard cock was prominent in the grey sweatpants he was wearing and you couldn’t help but whimper. coryo palmed his cock through his sweatpants. “be a good girl and take your clothes off for me, doll.”

and you obliged of course. because you’d do anything for your best friend. and for his cock. you took off all of your clothing, throwing it to the side. coryo let out a soft groan, eyeing you up and down. “you’re so beautiful,” he said, sighing. he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side before pulling down his sweatpants, revealing his large cock.

your eyes widened at how largely endowed your best friend truly was. “you’re so big,” you whispered in amazement. he had to be at least eight inches.

coryo smirked, nodding his head. “lay down for me,” he said. and you did so. coryo then moved back onto the couch, hovering over you as he grabbed his cock, pressing the tip against your folds and spreading your wetness. the both of you let out soft moans. “gonna fuck you so good, princess,” he groaned, lining his cock to your entrance.

“can’t wait,” you replied, looking down at your bodies as you watched him slowly ease his cock inside of you. you let out a whine of pleasure, grateful for being filled. coryo let out a groan.

truthfully, coryo hadn’t slept with anyone in awhile. he didn’t like having to go out and talk to people when he could truthfully just fuck the pretty girl he already knew. and now he was finally able to fuck you.

when coryo bottomed out, he stayed still for a moment, allowing you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly thrusting his hips. you both moaned in sync. you wrapped your arms around coryo’s neck, looking up into his icy eyes. you both shared a small smile, truly realizing that you fucking your best friend.

coryo began moving his hips faster, causing you to moan as his cock began hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “oh fuck!” you moaned out.

coryo’s breath was shaky as he thrusted his hips, closing his eyes in pleasure. “god you’re so tight,” he said. “clenching my cock so good.”

“you’re so big,” you replied, moaning.

after a few more thrusts, coryo changed the position. he took his cock out of you, grabbing you as he sat down on the couch. he maneuvered you onto his lap before gripping his cock and easing himself back into your cunt. you let out a loud moan from the change of position, feeling his cock entering you more deeply. “oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut.

coryo grabbed your hips before thrusting up into you at a harsh pace. you both moaned loudly, not caring at the fact that your neighbors could likely hear what’s going on through the walls.

coryo wrapped an arm around your waist to help him thrust into you better. you moaned, leaning your head on coryo’s shoulder as he fucked up into you. “you like having your best friend’s cock inside of you, hmm?” he grunted.

you whined, nodding your head against his shoulder. “love it so much,” you moaned, feeling yourself getting closer.

coryo moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure as he fucked you. “god, you’re clenching me so good,” he said. “gonna cum for me? gonna cum on my cock, baby?”

you nodded your head again, your breathing shaky as you felt the heat in your abdomen tighten. “so close, coryo, please,” you moaned out. “wanna cum so bad.”

“yes, baby,” he said, his right hand gripping your right butt cheek. “fuck, please cum on my cock.”

and with that, you came, hard, moaning loudly as your body began shaking. your thighs quivered as you came. with a few more thrusts, coryo came with a loud moan, spilling his seed inside of your pussy. and when you both finished, you breathed heavily, coming down from your highs.

you pulled away slightly, looking at coryo’s icy eyes as he looked into your beautiful eyes. he reached a hand up to caress your hair. “you don’t need to fuck anyone else,” he murmured. “i’ll take care of you.”

you smiled softly at your best friend. “sounds like a plan.”

[forever--darling]

say yes to me

summary: anakin skywalker was like a forbidden fruit, the roommate to the guy that had been sleeping with your roommate for most of the school year. the very man who lived just down the hall from you & quite possibly the only man who was capable of silencing you, because he made you that nervous. you thought he had disliked you, despised you even, but it turns out when you lose one pair of red lacy underwear in the laundry room, that isn't quite the case.

pairings: anakin skywalker x reader

word count: 12.9k

warnings/notes: modern au, college!reader, SMUT, minors DNI, like actual filth, p & v, slight degradation, mentions of masturbation, slight enemies to lovers if you squint, dominant!anakin, public nudity (slightly), no protection mentioned (but please do use it), sorry not sorry, it had to be written.

masterlist

song inspo: lose face - daniel di angelo

Anakin Skywalker despised you. He did. He would never admit it. But it was the kind of disdain that had only appeared, almost bubbling over time since the very moment he met you, over your complete obliviousness when it came to him. Or it was more ignorance, perhaps. 

You ignored him. His existence, his looming eyes that seemed to filter over your frame whenever the two of you were in the same room together, which was often. Often since you lived in the same apartment building and your two roommates had been fucking since a few weeks into the new semester. He would have to endure your impending silence, your lack of awareness of him for hours on end, sometimes many days in a row. It was excruciating how much he disliked you. Disliked those who got your attention, even his roommate, because it was something you would never give him. 

At first, he didn’t think much of it. How could he? You were gorgeous and hot, his attraction something evident from the beginning, but you could barely exchange a few words with him, let alone meet his eyes if it ever was just the two of you in a room, this one more rare. You seemed shy. Innocent. Unwilling to be tainted by him. Something he could understand, even get behind. That is until he noticed the way you interacted with others.

You were a Pre-Law major, and Pre-Law majors couldn’t afford to be shy or even mute like you appeared around him. It was a surprise when he found you late on a Friday night in their apartment, where his roommate was hosting a party, surrounded by five guys playing cards. A drink sat in front of you, lipstick stains coating the glass in the most enticing of pinks. A low-cut top that was tight hugged your torso, making it hard for Anakin to hold in any physical sound.

You were ethereal at that moment as you tipped your head back, laughing, eyelashes batting with ease — innocence void from your lustful gaze. You were putting every one of those five guys in their place, practically pulling the cash out of their wallets from simply your tongue, all while you threw progressive law jargon their way. All of which he could understand easily, far smarter than he ever let on but it all went over their ungrateful heads. You were intelligent, so breathtaking, and completely squandering it on meatheads like the ones his roommate often interacted with, and he hated them. Hated them because you would never look at him the way you did them. 

Hated them because you seemed to despise him just as much as he did you, enough that your interactions were left to drown in the thickest silence. The kinds where his pants twitched, and he wished to force you against a wall, just so you would look at him, for once. It was all that he asked, to feel what it was like to have your eyes on his. To either face the itch he got for you head-on or come to terms that it was all in his head. That it all was manifested in the truest form of need; arousal. 

How could he though when your roommate was at his apartment a few nights a week? The last thing he needed was for her to glare at him, and take him to be some asshole with a weird obsession that lacked boundaries. He couldn’t live in that reality, not when he was so much nicer, even without the possibility of your legs wrapped around him. 

It didn’t mean it was easy. Truthfully it never was. 

Especially that afternoon as he found you parading around your apartment building’s halls, laundry basket in hand, headphones pulled over your ears. It was actually almost painful. The way your loose university sweatpants hugged low on your waist, rolled once, dipping enough that he was able to see your naval piercing. Your shirt was small, a tanktop that left little to his imagination, especially your perky nipples that stuck out enough he noticed them right away. Your hair was pulled back by a clip, but a few pieces framed your face, and even that alone frustrated him. Frustrated him that you walked around like that, almost to torture him, almost oblivious to how you looked. 

It seemed you were just as oblivious about his presence, evident in the way you walked into the laundry room on their floor, mouthing the words of the song you were listening to, hips swaying far too much, but blind to the fact that he was in the room too. Or you knew and just didn’t care. That was something he could believe, a hundred times. 

He stood a few machines away from yours, pulling his clean laundry out from the washer to put in the dryer. His eyes flickered over to your form every few seconds. It seemed to be something he couldn’t help, unable to stop the way his blue irises traced the skin along your waist and how there was nothing but a thin shirt that separated your chest from him. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at you that way. If it was anyone else, it could have been creepy, but because it was him.

You hadn’t even looked his way, your eyes never gracing his form as being the one in the room and not just another guy from the floor. Anakin was sure, though, that if it had been anyone else, you would have acknowledged them. He hated how much he thought of it. Hated how much you hated him. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word unable to slip as he saw you from the corner of his eye, bending over just enough to grab your dry laundry from the dryer. 

He hated how he wasn’t in front of you or behind you for the view but rather just witnessing from the side of you the way your shirt loosened around your frame enough that he could have been able to see down your shirt. He was able to see the back material of your underwear hugging your hips, though. The thinness of it taunting like it could have snapped under one flick from his fingers. 

You pulled your laundry out, slowly, almost purposefully dropping it in your laundry basket. It only took a minute or two but it felt longer when you finally stood closing the dryer door, with your laundry basket now balancing along your hip. You turned, and yet your eyes never found his, never once acknowledging his form there standing near the washer. 

He hated how his chest tightened, the way his brows furrowed in frustration because you were likely avoiding him. Without a word ever spoken, a second of some sort of acknowledgment, though you could have been sitting in his apartment later that evening, you turned towards the door. You walked out, the door falling shut before you. 

Anakin sighed, his hip leaning against the side of the washer as he stared at the spot you were once standing. His brows were still furrowed, but they relaxed, lifting instead as he noticed the left behind bright red garment on the floor. He smirked almost devishly then as he strode across the laundry floor, bent over and plucked it from the floor. 

He tutted softly then, hating himself for how he clutched the thin piece of lace underwear in his hand like it was a lost treasure. 

The apartment was dark all but for the overhead lights in the kitchen and the candles that decorated the countertop. You sat in your room, almost encompassed by darkness other than the sunset lamp on your windowsill and the lamp on your nightstand. You sat back against your pillows, university sweatpants loose along your waist, revealing most of your stomach as you stared at your phone, unable to stop yourself as you scrolled. 

Harrison had posted a picture, one from the other night when the guys had gone out for drinks. Of course, he had been there. Anakin Skywalker. You almost let out a noise at the sight of him in the picture alone. It was embarrassing. Embarrassing how you stared at it for at least a minute, and even worse when you clicked on his profile name that was tagged. Something that happened more often than it should. 

Your stomach tightened as the familiar page appeared, his profile picture enough to have your legs tightening involuntarily. It was easy to say that he was breathtaking, or perhaps the devil himself, because of just how tempting he truly was. From the way his short curls brushed along the back of his neck, the front swept out of his eyes, or his strong jaw that seemed to always appear clenched unless it was just always that sharp. His eyes. Oh god, those were the worst of all. The blue hues that you swore could burn holes into your very being. The sole reason you couldn’t even meet his gaze; not if you didn’t want him to know. 

Know about your secret attraction that actually had you aching most nights. Nights where you couldn’t help but have your hands dip in between your legs, with him being the only one on your mind, the only voice you conjure up. It was unholy. It was wrong on so many levels, how much you wanted this man, so much so, you became mute when he appeared. 

You were a fumbling idiot around him and you never had been with anyone else. Usually, you were the one who would make them squirm, but with Anakin, you found yourself dripping with a need you had never had before. It didn’t help that he was so fucking quiet, unable to say or initiate anything unless it was his eyes somehow taunting you. It was like he didn’t like you, unable to really say much if he wanted to keep the peace. 

It was torture then as you were left to do nothing but stare and scroll aimlessly on his Instagram. 

It was stupid how he was just as perfect in real life. Not a single fault to be had. Even as he stood in the laundry room that afternoon in nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants, it had you forcibly clenching your legs shut. The way his shirt hung on his frame was still tight enough to show his muscles underneath. It was casual in a way, something you would only notice if you looked hard enough, which you tended to always do. 

There was nothing to do except act as if he wasn’t there, grab your laundry from the dryer as quickly as you could, and leave before he could say anything before it became too much that you felt like spreading your legs for him right then and there. 

As you scroll down to the previous August and a shirtless picture of him in a boat appears, you couldn’t take it. You shut your phone off, dropped it onto your bed, and fell back against your pillows. Sighing, you stared up at the ceiling hating the bloom of warmth that was appearing in your chest. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the knock on your bedroom door had you looking over, already expecting the view before you. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your roommate stood in your doorway in her shower robe, towel wrapped around her head, concealing her pale blonde hair. Her freshly spray-tanned skin glowed after her shower. As you looked over at her, she raised her brows at you, curiosity appearing.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, stiffening as she glanced at your phone left faced down on your bed. 

She hummed almost in interest but decided not to comment on it, instead taking in your appearance, still dressed in the clothes you had been in for the day as you cleaned the apartment and did your laundry, “Well then, that’s the problem. Girl, we have to be there in an hour.” 

“It’s seriously ten steps down the hall,” you rolled your eyes, “I think we can be late. Why are we going anyway?” 

“Because it’s Saturday night and he invited us.” 

“I know, but we could be going out.” 

“Why so you can go home with someone?” she asked, catching onto the heavy sight that left your parted lips. 

You felt your tongue catch along your teeth and unable to defend yourself, Iris smiled, a laugh emitting with ease as a smirk appeared. 

“That’s so funny,” she noted, so amused by your obvious frustrations, “You know there are going to be guys there.” 

“New guys?” you asked sitting up then with new-found interest, “Not like all of the ones at Harrison’s last party?”

“Well, that I can’t know for sure. You were flirting with at least four of them while you were playing cards. You know, Harrison doesn’t have that many friends, right? So every time one of them is attractive and tries to have sex with you, it’s not like he can go out and find three new ones right away. I’m sure some of them will be there, yes.” 

“Fuck.” 

“But, you know, Anakin will also be there. Apparently, it was his idea for them to throw another one tonight. So, if you want to talk to him,” her voice slowed like she realized what she was saying as it echoed in her ears. 

“Iris…” 

“What?” she laughed, “Maybe if you just talk to him, you’ll realize you don’t have to go and click through his Instagram so much.” 

“Iris!” you gasped, face already beginning to twinge with heat. 

She chuckled, but that quieted at the sight of your embarrassment. If it was any other day, she would say more, but she had had that conversation with you so many times before. It would only sound the same. “What? Right, sorry, anyway, I think Harrison did tell me he invited some guys on his club soccer team. So, I guess you can talk to them.” 

You huffed then, knowing that there was one reason you didn’t want to go the apartment down the hall, even if they did throw the best parties. “It’s just we are always there. Almost every weekend. I miss the bars. We’re legal, which means we should use them.”

“What’s wrong?” she questioned almost immediately, that furrowed look returning. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“You never don’t want to go to the guys’. In fact, sometimes you’re the one who suggests it, especially if they are throwing a party.” 

You were quiet, struggling to find an excuse, anything, as the thought of Anakin Skywalker flashed across your head, the picture of him shirtless still very much the screen that would appear when you unlocked your phone.

“Y/N. Speak. If this is about Anakin Skywalker, I swear—”

“I just thought something else could be fun, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

Her expression faltered slightly. She and Harrison weren’t even officially dating, and still, the thought of not seeing him that night pulled all the excitement out of her. You knew then you wouldn’t be getting your way. “I mean, we can. I would just have text the girls and tell them that—” 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get dressed,” your voice cut hers off, a sheepish smile appearing, knowing that you had just doomed yourself for the rest of the night. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, it slightly fake, dread appearing in your stomach, “As long as we don’t go early and we have  a round of shots when get there.”

The hallway was dim, the low lights not as bright as usual, the beige walls seeming to be the only thing able to hold your attention as you trailed after Iris, your hands nervously fiddling with one another. Sometimes you were lucky, as Anakin was not always at the parties his roommate liked to host. Other times, he would show up late, allowing you to settle and drink lots of alcohol to prepare for his presence. And rarely he never showed up at all or was there from the beginning. Tonight would be the latter, and you weren’t ready. 

Even with the two drinks heavily poured with vodka, you felt unsteady, anxious, and warm. It was like the further you walked down the hallway, the more the walls seemed to warp within your mind into a funhouse. It was as if you were high on something, distorting your sense of reality, but really, it was just your heart beating so loudly in your ears and the lack of dinner getting to you. 

You couldn’t eat, not as you paced around your room, half of your closet thrown onto the floor, one drink already leaving rings of water on your coaster upon your desk. It was humiliating. Actually, the worst thing to ever happen to you, as no man had ever done this to you. They couldn’t. It seemed impossible, and yet there you were, acting like a blithering idiot who would surely remain throughout the night until you were too drunk to notice. 

“Y/N, you’re walking slower than my grandma here,” Iris called behind you, stopping near the guys’ door, a chuckle echoing off the walls mixing with the sound of the loud music inside. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled back, trying to speed up but almost feeling as if you would fall with how much your legs were shaking. 

“Are you even going to talk to the guy?” she suddenly asked, turning to face you fully, her hands on her hips and a single brow raised. 

“W-What?” 

“Anakin. Are you going to talk to him tonight, finally? Or is this just how you’re going to act about seeing him.” 

You sighed, her words registering, making you question truly what you were so nervous about, “Iris, I…” 

“Look, if you want to talk to him, that’s fine, but if you’re just like this because he is going to be there, you need to take a second and breathe. Y/N, he’s just a guy. That’s it. A guy you don’t even talk to, trust me when I say he is not that special. You’ve spent enough time in the same room as him to know that.” 

“Right,” you whispered, suddenly finding your shoes more interesting to stare at as you felt your roommate speak. The heat in your face was only worsening, “He’s just a guy.” 

He was, and yet he drove you crazy. 

It was disappointing to find that Iris had to be the one to remind you of that when you had spent the past two years of college seeming to be the one always reminding her of that. You were the one who seemed to understand men, especially idiotic man-child twenty-something-year-olds, and yet here you stood in the hallway of your apartment complex, her finally being the one to give you the reminder. 

Sure, Anakin Skywalker was just a man. 

A twenty-one-year-old man who was quite possibly carved from the most expensive and luxurious marble and gold. He dressed in baggy jeans and warm sweaters, some of which seemed to be designer. He was quiet, unfunny at times, and was so frustrated all of the time. He wasn’t perfect, yet he seemed better than any of the guys you had liked in the past. The loose term was not used often. 

“Just a guy,” she smiled, keeping her sarcasm on lockdown as she reached for your forearm and began to drag you towards the door, “I have never seen you like this.” 

“Like what?” you asked, lowering your voice further as you stood outside of the door, confusion-filled gaze meeting her curious one. 

“You this obsessed.” 

“I am not obsessed,” you glared, finding your chest to tighten in discomfort at the thought. 

“Fine. I just mean, usually you don’t care. You never have, and somehow he has you sweating and unable to speak coherently.” 

“It’s not like that.” 

“Okay, well, whatever it’s like, it’s cute,” she laughed, it only getting louder as you bumped her side with your own, almost begging for her to stop. “You’ve never acted like this over a guy.”

“Are we going to fucking stand out here all night, or are we going to go inside?” you asked rather flatly, not caring how it sounded as long as it meant she would stop staring at you the way that she was. 

She only smirked, nothing else left to say as your face said at all. The gentle blush on your cheeks, the way you were trying to avoid eye contact, most of your confidence waning as you stood there, outside of that apartment door. 

Shrugging, she finally reached for the doorknob and opened the door with ease. The second the door was cracked, the music became increasingly louder, enough to make you cringe at the way the bass echoed in your ears. Usually, you welcomed it; the sound, the smell of cigarettes and marijuana, the stickiness on the floors by the end of the night, the way you always stumbled your way back to your apartment only a few feet away. It was a life you had gotten used to, and yet you dreaded it all that night. 

Iris stepped in with ease, and you followed, inhaling as you did with the smell of cigarettes hitting you straight in the face. Even with the windows open, allowing the winter air to bask in the room, it wasn’t enough to completely drown out the smell. I

t was dark in the apartment, all but the LED lights that hung up around the ceiling, paired with a spinning disco ball on the coffee table, which Harrison swore by every single time. 

There was maybe a total of ten people in the room so far, but you knew it wouldn’t be this easy to walk through by the end of the night. As soon as the door was shut behind you, concealing you both inside, it was like he had known she was there. All of a sudden, you heard Harrison’s loud voice from across the room, him standing from where he was leaning against his sound system. 

“Ah, you guys made it!” Harrison strode over in a pair of baggy jeans and a graphic t-shirt, his arms immediately finding Iris’ hips, giving away that he had already been drinking for a bit. “You’re later than I thought you were going to be.” 

“I texted you,” she mumbled, chuckling lightly. 

“I know, but…” his voice trailed off slightly, and his bluish-green eyes found your frame still almost pressed against the front door, and it was like he had connected the dots. “Y/N.” 

“Harrison, hi,” you smiled sheepishly while also trying to peer around him to the rest of the people that filled the living room, hoping but equally dreading catching sight of a head of short curls. 

“What, you didn’t want to come tonight?” 

He was joking, he always was, as he spun Iris around so her back was pressed to his front. You laughed, it so fake as you tried to hide it all but your roommate could see through you easily. “What? No. You're a funny guy, you know that? We always come to your parties.” 

“Yeah, but you’re usually one of the first ones here.” 

“Relax,” you rolled your eyes, “Clearly, we’re still here early enough. Great turnout.” 

“There are more people coming, asshole,” he laughed, pulling his hat by the brim down further across his forehead, concealing his blonde short, cropped hair.

“Oh yeah? Anyone worth talking to?” 

“You told her about the guys from my soccer team, didn’t you?” that question was directed down towards Iris, who suddenly peered up at her non-boyfriend boyfriend with both guilt and humor. 

“What?” she shrugged. 

His eyes found yours again, that playful look now filling yours, “They’ll be here in about an hour or so. Just can you try not to screw them over?” 

“Me?” you feigned a laugh, “I could never. How do I look, though? Something they would be interested in?” 

Doing almost a little curtsy with your Converse squeaking against their hardwood floor, you turned after a moment. Noting the baggy jeans and the black sheer tube top, Harrison laughed almost in disbelief but could only look over his shoulder towards his own roommate, who sat in the middle of their couch, legs sprawled out, head dipped back as he snubbed out the cigarette that was in between his fingers. “Hm, you know you could go ask Anakin? He has expensive taste.” 

You felt yourself freeze, hating the way they both laughed, equally looking back into the room. Following their gaze, you stiffened further as you found him, sure to be the only thing that you would focus on for the rest of the night. Especially if he were to be sitting that way for most of it. You felt like a deer in headlights as you peered over Harrison’s shoulder, eyes trailing over the way his legs were spread wide, his back leaned into the couch, and his head tilted back as he blew out rings of smoke. 

He wore dark jeans and a black knit-long sleeve; underneath the collar, his white t-shirt poked out. His hair was pushed back out of his face, and the curls along his neck and around his ears seemed perfect even in the dark. 

He would be the death of you.

Your mouth was dry, and suddenly, your fresh sarcasm was gone as he sat up against the couch, his stare almost splitting through the room to find the three of you. His expression was unreadable, almost cold, and you hated the way they found yours immediately.  

You looked away, aware of the way the other two were intently making notes about the interaction. Side-stepping into the kitchen out of eye-sight from the roommate, you glared back at Harrison, “I hate you.” 

“Nah, you don’t.” 

“I thought you said you were going to make me a shot when I got here.” 

“What do you want?” Harrison asked, his arms dropping around Iris, instead allowing his hand to find a place along her back, guiding her to follow him into the kitchen. 

“The strongest thing you got,” you suggested peering up at the masses of liquor upon the cabinets, a devilish look appearing in your eyes as you smiled innocently back at the man. 

He sighed that familiar Harrison sigh, the one where he knew there would be no stopping you that night, not as you came over with a box full of seltzers and a large handle of tequila. You were looking for trouble or perhaps something to ease the noise into nothing but silence within your mind. Either way, he couldn’t tell, and though Iris was looking at him, almost afraid to let him give you the shot that would start a very long night, she just shrugged anyway. 

A long night it would become. 

By the time it was eleven-thirty, the apartment was full of many familiar faces, the typicals you saw at almost every party, and then masses of the very unfamiliar. Some of them including Harrison’s very cute and very athletically-built soccer teammates. It had become your mission to catch at least one of their eyes quickly as if to avoid the looming stare from across the room that you were sure would have you dripping humiliatingly if you focused on him too long. 

When he moved, you did too. Further away, it seemed, anything to keep your distance, almost afraid of what you could say if given the chance to. The alcohol wasn’t enough because just knowing he was in the same apartment had you unable to think about anything or anyone else. Even when you were four seltzers deep and a quarter of the way through with the concoction that had become of your water bottle, Anakin Skywalker was all you could think about. 

It had been hours, hours of dancing awkwardly, avoiding the cards table, and yet you felt unaccomplished with the night. The ache between your legs was enough proof as it was, but you knew that couldn’t be taken care of by anyone unless it was Anakin. Even as the lanky soccer player with fluffy brown hair and bright eyes practically had you concealed against the wall in the living room, your mind was completely inept at what he was saying. 

He was hot, relatively, nothing like Anakin, but enough that you would have slept with him. His hands were ghosting over your waist, one tickling the bare skin above your jeans, the other leaning against the wall, caging you in against his warm frame. His eyes were hooded, a look in them you knew all too well, but one you were sure you wouldn’t act on. 

“You know, Harrison warned me about you,” he joked, it sounding so deep that his name somehow slipped from your mind, unable to be retrieved. 

Your lips were wrapped around the straw of your drink, eyes peering up at his through your lashes, and you couldn’t help but smile, almost like a tantalizing forbidden fruit. “Really? Is that so? And do you think you should have listened to him?” 

“No, not at all. That’s the funny part, I guess. Told me you would probably have your pick of us for the night.” 

Your smile lessened slightly as a discomfort appeared front and center within your chest. You flirted. That wasn’t something you would deny, but the way he was putting it made you feel like you were other girls that they talked to. Ready to offer themselves like a consolation prize by spreading their legs just to never be spoken to again. You flirted, but you never really gave them what they wanted, and that’s why Harrison was cautious about bringing new guys around. They would chase after something they’d never get, and you would string them along as a form of entertainment. Or that’s what he thought. 

It never had been like that, not even as guys started to notice you freshman year of college. It was never supposed to be a game but rather something else entirely. 

You shifted back towards the wall, eyes dropping to your cup, the way it was nearly empty, the last few drops clinging to the bottom of the glass. The guy spoke again, and you found your brows furrowing in discomfort. “I’m just glad it was me if I’m being honest.”

They always thought that way. That it was them. That they were something special, as if worthy of your attention, but it never was about them. 

You sighed, head falling back against the wall as his hand rose along your bare skin, almost inching to move up and under your shirt. A second of dissociation left you looking over his shoulder at the crowd of people around you, filling the living room to be full and packed. You scanned their faces trying to find anything that you knew could ground you. 

Instead, there was only one thing, one person, and it made it all so much worse. 

Peering through the room within the darkness of flashing vibrant lights and smoke, you somehow found him, only a few feet away or so. At the sight, it was almost like your legs were going to give out from beneath you. He would never not have an effect on you. It didn’t matter how stupid you felt, how humiliating it was. Inevitably, Anakin Skywalker would always have you wrapped around his finger. 

He was leaning against the wall near the sound system, surrounded by Harrison and a few of their other guy friends. His arms were crossed over his chest, arms bulging slightly under the material of his shirt. Smoke billowed around the group from cigarettes, vapes, and joints alike, yet his hands were empty. He wasn’t listening to anything they were saying. He couldn’t have been because, just as quickly as you found him, he was already peering over at you. 

His blue eyes, almost as sharp as steel as they traced your frame, pressed up against the wall under the soccer player, your drink cradled close to your chest. You almost physically shuddered, having not expected it, not in the slightest. His lips were pulled into a fine line, brows slightly furrowed in a way that made you want to ease the small wrinkle, pulling every frustration clean from his body. 

Yet you felt intimidated because, after all, it was a look that was directed at you. One that often wasn’t. 

His expression barely flickered or faltered, even as your eyes so clearly locked with his. Instead, he could only lift a single brow in your direction in interest. It was like a challenge, almost as if he was daring you to do something you would regret, something he wouldn’t like. 

“Hey,” the guy’s voice broke through your facade, a gentle mumble as his hand squeezed your hip. The feeling brought your eyes to flicker back to him but only for a second before you were glancing back at Anakin. “Are you listening?” 

You weren’t. Instead too distracted by the man across the room, whose jaw had suddenly tightened. 

“I… uh, need to get another drink,” you forced a smile, voice gentle as you gestured to the empty cup. 

“Do you want me to get it?” he asked then, yelling over the music, and you hated the way it made you feel. 

“No, that’s okay. I’ll be right back,” you replied, almost like a false promise, as you slipped under his arm, separating his frame from yours completely, and with it, a weight seemed to dissipate. The ability to breathe suddenly a grace you didn’t know you were missing. 

It was like you could feel his eyes following your frame. The coldness that was his blue orbs as you swerved your way through the crowd of people, bumping into them as you went, recognizing very few. Iris had been gone from your side for almost an hour, somehow slipping away with Harrison’s cousin to talk about probably Harrison. You had been left to fend for yourself, which was nothing new. Something you had done the whole semester prior, and yet it was the first time, you couldn’t stand the thought. 

Even as the alcohol had left you swaying, vision slightly blurred, and mind a slurring mess, there wasn’t much comfort in the feeling. You managed to squeeze you were way to the kitchen, the music enough to have your ears echoing. Sighing, you found only a few people littered throughout, mixing new drinks or leaning against the countertops to speak too closely. It would be too good to be true to find it empty.

Slipping into the kitchen, which seemed nearly as dark as the rest of the apartment, you found the corner of the countertop where you had been taking alcohol from all night. Harrison had been kind enough to offer you something better than what you had mixed, and it had become the thing you began to drink as soon as your seltzers were long since chugged. Reaching for the liquor bottle, you uncapped it and began to pour, heavier than you had been before. Mixing the remainder of the lemonade in, you picked it up, already reading for the strong sip. 

“How many of those have you had?” 

The voice was low but loud as it spoke over the music. Scaring you, you turned around on your heels quickly, the drink nearly spilling all over you if it wasn’t for his hand that came to grasp the cup, part of his palm covering your own. It was warm. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, the only vocal response to how close he was and all of a sudden. 

“Careful,” Anakin chuckled, taking the drink from your hand, to which you pouted in dismay, hating how he pulled it closer to himself. 

You stared, expression wary as he towered over you, closer than he ever had before, his eyes tracing the startled look as if he were the predator cornering his prey. His stare flickered following the way your chest rose and fell, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you stared up at him, eyes slightly glassed over from the amount of alcohol you had. 

God, you hated him. You really did as he stared down at you, smirking the way he was, only a few inches away. If you leaned closer, your chest would press against his, and at the thought, you had to squeeze your legs shut, trying to keep as much space between the two of you as you pressed yourself back against the countertop. 

A glint appeared as he noticed the way you shifted with discomfort, something he knew wasn’t a common occurrence with you. Tilting his head innocently, he glanced down at your drink, which now was in his grasp, a teasing tone emitting, “You never answered my question. How many of these have you had?” 

You shrugged, trying to wipe off the look on your face as if you could picture it was anyone else in front of you. “I don’t know. A few.” 

“How many is a few?” he demanded, eyes tracing the way you swayed on your feet, almost like he could know your head was spinning, nearly seeing two of him. 

“You want a number?” you laughed, thinking he was joking. 

His expression never faltered, “Yes.” 

“Three, maybe four, I don’t know.” 

He hummed, almost like he was dissatisfied with the answer. Instead of offering the drink back to you, he brought it closer to himself, that serious look never disappearing. “You should be done for the night.” 

“Really?” you mused, a single brow raising at his tone. 

“Yeah, in fact, I’ll finish this one off for you. Maybe try a water there, Y/L/N,” he said, bringing the cup to his lips, covering where your lipstick stains had been.

He took a sip, and you felt your blood boil out of both annoyance and something else. He wasn’t even touching you, and yet there was more of a reaction out of you than earlier when the soccer player had his hands inching up your shirt. It seemed he knew that too, and it was infuriating. 

“Anakin!” 

“By the way, your flavor of the night is looking for you. I think I saw him over by the bathroom where Iris was waiting. I’m sure he was asking about you.” 

“You know what,” you said then, raising your hands up in the air, an almost look of acceptance on your face as you slipped out from under his frame you hadn’t realized had gotten so close, “Fine.” 

With that, you walked away out of the kitchen, palm empty of your drink and heart heavy by the man who had taken it so easily from you. It was like taking candy from a baby, you almost offered it willingly if it meant getting a few more seconds being pressed close to him, his blue eyes tracing your drunken frame. 

He had gotten you then. He was under your skin, had practically dug himself a hole, and you knew you couldn’t; not willingly go find Harrison’s teammate just to think about someone else all night. How much further could you even go than flirting? You usually wouldn’t, and you definitely couldn’t, not that night, not in that state, not when Anakin Skywalker flashed through your mind on repeat, feeding the worst desires. 

The apartment was hot, still messy, lingering with stenches of alcohol, weed, and cigarettes. It was like all of the sweaty bodies were still gathered within their living room when really it was nearly three a.m., most of the lights were turned off, and the only thing that could be seen was Harrison and Iris slightly tangled on the couch. Anakin was slumped over on their second couch, now in a pair of sweatpants that hung loosely off his frame and dark long sleeve. His head lulled to the side as he stared at the TV in front of him, unable to really get comfortable on the couch with the warmth of the room. 

Unable to open the window due to them being almost frozen shut, he sat up, his feet meeting the floor. He wanted to sleep. It was the only thing he could think about; hoping it would be enough to quiet the thoughts along with the twitch of his dick. But he couldn’t, not as he felt the sweat along his eyebrow and the smell that seemed to not dissipate even long after he thought he had gotten used to it. 

“Fuck, it still smells.” 

“Well, I don’t know, maybe open the door, see if it airs out in the hallway,” Harrison said, his words slurring slightly, his eyes narrowing in tiredness. 

Anakin became deadpan then, “The door? You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

“Or not. Whatever.” 

“Well, do we have a fan or something?” Anakin offered, standing from the couch in the darkness, stretching his arms up and over his head, “I had one, but I can’t remember the last time I saw mine or even used it.”

Harrison peered up at his roommate, a shy smile on his face seeming oblivious or rather uncaring of the problem at hand, too focused on the feeling of Iris’ head resting along his collarbone. It was then the girl perked up, her eyes shifting away from the TV and the creepy murder documentary she had recommended. 

Her blonde hair peeked up from the couch, and she chuckled lightly at the realization, “That’s because we have it.” 

“What do you mean we?” Anakin replied, brows raising slightly in interest. 

“Y/N and I…” she said carefully, “Harrison let us borrow it at the beginning of the semester when our AC system gave out. I’m pretty sure we forgot to give it back. It’s in our linen closet.” 

He stared down at her, somehow at a loss of what to say or if that meant she was willing to get up and give it to him then or expected him to wait. Before he could decide, she reached the coffee table and picked up her keys before tossing them to Anakin. 

“Here. Take my keys, you can go grab it.” 

Catching them, he stared down at it on the brass key ring, the very key that led to your apartment. An apartment you very much could have been in fucking around with one of the new guys’ Harrison had introduced you to. Anakin’s hand tightened around the keyset at the thought, a certain discomfort appearing at even the picture he could conjure up. The guy had been practically all over you all night, and you hadn’t done anything to reject his advances. Instead, you let them happen all while a set of eyes were staring at you from across the room. 

“I… uh.” 

“Relax,” she laughed, “Y/N said she was going to shower and go to bed. You’re not going to run into any naked soccer players fleeing from her bedroom.” 

“Funny,” Anakin glared, a fake smile appearing as he noticed the familiar glint that had appeared on his roommate’s face. Not ready for the constant teasing, he stepped out of the living room towards the front door. 

Walking out, he barely processed the sound of the door closing behind him, too focused on the key in his hand. It took less than a minute when he came face to face with the dark door. Tall with gold brass located in the middle displaying just how it differed from all the rest — what it meant. The numbers he thought about more often than he should. 

802. 

Fuck. He thought about it too much, so much so it felt easy to let the key slide into the hole and unlock the door with a mere turn of his wrist. Stepping through the threshold, the first thing he noticed was how refreshing it felt compared to the smell of his apartment. It was cooler in there, with a smell of almost clean laundry and vanilla. He couldn’t help but wonder if the whole apartment smelled that way or if somehow your room was different. 

The floors matched the ones in his dark paneling that showed all of the dirt that fell on them. There were a few entrance rugs he couldn’t see much in the dark, as well as the entrance to the kitchen. He wanted to look around, turn on a light to take it all in, but he couldn’t, not with you only a few doors away, possibly naked and in the shower. He felt so gross about it, that he cared so much. 

Especially as your underwear sat in the top drawer of his dresser. He had been contemplating about it all night, just how he could bring it up or return it to you. But he wasn’t sure the best approach without it coming off as disgusting. If he told Iris, she would never look at him the same, probably confused why he had them at all. Harrison would only make jokes, almost applauding Anakin, just to take Iris’ side when he tried to pass them off to her. And you, he couldn’t even think about what your reaction might look like upon finding out that he had your underwear, had them all day. 

Moving further into the apartment, he entered the vast hallway just as Iris had explained, eyes locating in the dark the few doorways that appeared. With his flashlight on, he was able to find it halfway down the hall on the left. Just as he opened the door, though, he took notice of the dim light a door down, a purple hue peeking out from it that was left cracked open. With the familiar sound of The Weekend, Anakin smirked as he picked his way through the linen closet. 

There on the top shelf was his fan. 

Grabbing it, he shut the linen closet, but halted in front of the door, a new sound grabbing his attention. A breathy sigh, almost like a huff of frustration. His shoulders stiffened slightly, stomach tightening at the sound alone. As another noise slipped, but much louder paired with the gentle lull of a vibration, Anakin knew for sure. Knew that you were getting yourself off, and he couldn’t ignore just how pretty it sounded. 

It was too much, so he stepped away from your door towards the other end of the hallway, but he had only made it two steps before he felt himself stop. 

“Ani…” The whimper was not quiet, and he felt his jaw tighten at the way the syllables formed on your lips. 

The sounds were louder, your moan breathtaking. 

Anakin’s hand cupped his dick, your voice going straight to it. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but they snapped back open as another one echoed out from your room, this one a little more desperate. 

“Oh, Anakin.” 

He didn’t know how he didn’t drop that fucking fan. Wasn’t sure if it would slip through his fingers or if he would throw it on purpose, anything to make his presence known. Anything to make the sounds continue but due to his fingers rather than your own. He had never felt such pain then at that moment as he forced himself to walk away, the sounds of you undoing yourself deliberately with his name breaking apart across your tongue. 

There wasn’t a doubt then anymore. Not a single ounce of question. 

It seemed that was enough to know. Enough to have figured out just exactly what to do with the red lacy underwear that sat tucked into the top drawer of his dresser.

“No, fuck, where is it?”

The sound of your voice grumbling from your room droned out into the hallway. Your hands were shoved into the bottom of your dresser drawer, rummaging through the clean laundry you had folded the day before. The sole piece of clothing you were looking for was nowhere in sight. As soon as you hadn’t found it near the top when you had started getting ready for your date, you felt your chest tighten. You groaned loudly, arms balancing along your knees as you moved to find it not hidden somewhere in your laundry basket either. 

“Y/N/N, I’m going to head to work,” Iris poked her head inside, but her voice trailed off at the sight of you crouched in the middle of the room, tearing apart your dresser drawers. “What are you doing?” 

“I can’t find them,” you mumbled out. 

“Find what?” 

You sighed, almost hesitant to even say it out loud, “My panties. The red ones.” 

“The ones with lace?” she asked, for clarification, her brows raising in interest. 

“Yes, I washed them yesterday, I swear.”

“Don’t you have your date tonight?” she asked, eyes looking around the room, spotting the few outfits you had laid out across your bed and the mounds of makeup and hair products spread out at your vanity. “The one with Harrison’s teammate?” 

“Yeah, Cole.” 

At the name, a flash of recognition formed across Iris’ face. It was the same guy you had been with most of the night before at the party, practically pressed up against a wall as he eye fucked you for most of the night. By the end of it, you were so drunk he hadn’t even gotten a kiss out of you, only your number. He texted you that morning about going out for drinks and dinner. You were hesitant at first, almost inclined to say no, but then something else made you change your mind. Perhaps the sight from the night before of the smirk that laced over Anakin’s face as he teased you about Cole. No inclination at all that it bothered him, the sight of you pressed up against someone else. It was annoying, so annoying, that you couldn’t help but say yes to Cole for a date. 

What else were you going to do? 

Anakin Skywalker barely spoke to you and noticed your presence. It was a joke. All of it. 

Iris smiled smugly, then down at you as you continued to search through the dresser drawer. “And you need your red lacy panties for a first date?” 

“I mean, I don’t need them, just want them, you know, in case.” 

“Who are you right now?” she laughed, the sound bringing your attention away from your underwear drawer. Her arms were crossed over her chest, that smile still evident as a hint of amusement flashed across her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You don’t usually think about sleeping with a guy until at least the fourth or fifth date. The last time you were talking to someone, you made him hold out for the sixth date just to ask him to leave after twenty minutes of making out. And you want to wear your sex underwear on the first date?”

“I’m not a prude, you know,” you laughed too, your anxiety easing slightly even though your favorite underwear was still missing. 

“I never said you were. I’m just saying, you’re different. That’s all.” 

“Is that such a bad thing?” 

She shook her head, almost a sense of pride appearing, “No. Not at all. Anyway, I should go.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you replied over your shoulder, your attention going back to the clothes scattered around you. 

“Yeah, have fun on your date. I can’t wait to hear how it goes. Oh, and maybe try looking in the laundry room.” 

You cringed almost at the thought that they had somehow been left in there overnight, all while other people were coming in and out to do their laundry, “Right.”

Standing from your bedroom floor, you looked around the room one more time before inevitably giving up. Instead, you slid on a pair of shoes, and left the apartment, the door closing and echoing behind you. Making your way down the hall, you passed the guys’ door and the memories from the night before flashed again in your head. Anakin taking your drink, cutting you off from anything for the rest of the night. You wish you wouldn’t have listened and continued to sneak some. You didn’t have to listen to him at all. That was the funniest part, and you did it anyway. 

Entering the laundry room, the automatic lights clicked on upon your entrance illuminating the room in cascades of bright LEDs. It was warm, just like it usually was when someone was doing their laundry. The familiar rumble of the dryer and washers caught your attention. The sound of it clouded your thoughts as you approached the washer and dryer you had been using the day before. 

With one simple open of the stainless steel washer, you found it empty of any sort of clothing. You sighed, the annoyance deepening at the thought of having lost them. Expensive underwear you had bought on your trip to France over the summer. A pair Iris had to convince you to buy because you typically weren’t one for buying sexy underwear. It was the pair that opened the vault for you, leading you to not only buy so many more since then but a string of memories confined to that pair of lace, all from the few pairs of hands that had slid them down your legs with ease late into the night. 

It was your favorite pair of underwear. 

The only pair you felt like wearing on nights when you knew inevitably they would end up on someone’s floor. 

“Fuck,” you cursed again lowly as you stepped over to the dryer you had used. 

Sure enough, as you opened and closed it, you found it just as empty as the other machine you had checked. Your stomach dropped at the thought, and it had come to desperate measures as you crouched down near the machines and began looking around them on the floor. 

It was not your proudest moment, and that only became clear as it only lasted around thirty seconds when you heard the door open, paired with a voice you were dreading to have to face anytime soon. 

“What are you doing?” 

Your eyes closed, your breath falling short in your throat. Sighing, you stood from where you were crouched along the floor, surely giving him a show in the shorts you had been wearing since your shower that afternoon. You wouldn’t turn to face him, not if it meant seeing some sort of teasing look appear. It was embarrassing enough. Instead, you pressed yourself closer to the dryer, peering over the back of it, hoping just maybe the red lace would appear behind it. 

“I am looking for something.” 

Anakin chuckled, subtly tracing the curve of your ass through your pajama shorts, his fingers curling around the silky material in his pocket. “What?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Well, maybe if you told me, I could help,” he offered, and at that, you froze. 

Turning around slowly, you faced him, heart picking up at the sight of him alone. He looked just as fine as he had the night before, maybe even a little bit more. He wore jeans, ones that were loose around his frame, paired with a hoodie, hiding away the definition of his torso you craved to see after so long. His hair was slightly damp, leaving a ringlet curl along his forehead. It was slightly shorter, too, the back especially, meaning he had gotten a haircut. You had thought you would be sad when he had finally done it, cut the small curls that lay along the back of his neck, but now that he had, you couldn’t help but stare, knees practically giving out at how good he truly looked. 

Sure enough, that smirk was plastered along his face, paired with a glint you knew all too well. 

“Help? You want to help me?” 

He shrugged, “It could maybe make it go faster. You look like you need to be somewhere.” 

It was the most he had ever said to you. The last two days had crossed every line that had been between the two of you over the past four months of knowing one another. This was it. The past two days of his intimidating stares and forceful words.

Placing your hands on your hips, you raised a brow over at him interest, “And why would you think that?” 

He stepped closer, and that alone had your chest rattling and hands practically shaking. He was so tall, so breathtaking, and you had wanted him for so long, so badly, it had consumed you. Just the sight of him as he stood before you, looming over your frame, had your core twitching, aching already, and he hadn’t even touched you. There was the reality that he probably wouldn’t. 

His tongue clicked along the roof of his mouth, his blue orbs falling to trace over your bare legs, freshly tanned, smooth, up to the short baby tee that hugged your frame; no bra. You looked as if you were ready to settle in for the night, but he knew better. 

“You did your makeup,” he said, observingly, “And you look as if you put something in your hair. Maybe, styled it for someone. You got a hot date or something?” 

Your mouth was dry, and you had to look away, guilt appearing that you would be with another man that night, all while you would probably be thinking about him. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

“So, that’s a yes,” he chuckled, the deep sound making your legs clench slightly. “Harrison’s teammate from last night? I could see him asking you out just to get in your pants.” 

“Stop,” you fumed, brows furrowing in annoyance, arms crossing over your chest, “Why does it matter?” 

“It doesn’t. So, what are we looking for Y/L/N? What���s going to make you late for this dick appointment?” 

“You know what. Forget it. I can find it myself.” 

“No, no, come on, now. I’m just trying to be helpful,” he smiled, that smirk widening, almost getting off at the sight of your pout and knitted brows. “Seems like you might need it? So, what a top? A bra, maybe, something he’ll want to pull off of you later.” 

“Anakin,” you warned as he took a step closer, his head tilting antagonizingly, taking in how your chest rose and fell nervously. There was still a foot or so between you and yet you couldn’t help but step back until you were up against the dryer, the warmth of it felt through your shorts. 

“Or is it not either of those things? No. Can’t be,” he paused, voice trailing off as his stare flickered down to your lips, “Underwear?” 

Your lips parted in shock, stomach turning at the way it sounded like he was trying to torture you with his presence. 

“So that’s it? Panties, huh? Must be some nice fucking ones if they have you bent over in the laundry room looking for them. What do they look like? I’m sure I can find them.” 

You couldn’t form words, not as he taunted you, even from so far away. Not as his hands were shoved in the pockets of his pants, the most casual look about him. He alluded to sex just from how he looked, and that was hard enough, but him standing in front of you, lips glistening from his saliva, spouting these things at you, they might as well have been the dirtiest things a guy has ever said. They had you wet. You knew they did, and it had you shrinking in humiliation. Humiliation that he could say your name alone, and it would have you so pent up to the point of reaching for that familiar blue vibrator on your bedside table, desperately trying to relieve the tension he built up inside of you. 

Inhaling, you tried to relax. “They’re lace.” 

“Okay. See-through?” he asked, unable to say it with a straight face. 

“Yes.” The word was so quiet coming from your lips, almost like a whisper. 

The tip of his tongue traced over the top set of his teeth, highlighting his cuspids you wanted more than anything to bite into your neck. All while his hand dug between your legs. The thought fell away though at his next words, them enough to have your heart stop altogether. 

“They wouldn’t be red by chance, are they?” 

Your mouth fell open in shock, and for a second, you thought he was going to take hold of your lower lip to close it, anything to touch you, but he didn’t. Why would he? With widened eyes and that knitted expression forming once again across your face, you were silent as you watched his hand appear from his pocket, that all too familiar red color appearing before your eyes. 

“Or something like these, right?” he held them out on his index finger, the expensive material from France staring back at you, “Fuck, I didn’t expect it, Y/L/N. That you could own a pair like this.” 

Your face felt warm, annoyed, and embarrassed by his taunt. Enough that you reached forward to pluck them from his hand, but he pulled his hand back further to keep you from taking hold of them. 

“Anakin,” you warned, hand out stretched. 

“You know, you should pay closer attention when you do your laundry. Some creep in the building could have picked them up instead of me. Who knows what would have happened to them then.” 

It was like he could see the steam coming out of your ears, the heat on your face that he somehow could see even past your makeup. He was frustrating you, and he could do it all day, every day, he decided. 

“Give them to me.” 

“Or what?” he quipped, “Tell me why I should? Just so some guy can take them off of you later. Some guy you don’t even want to fuck you.” 

“Stop this,” you whispered, it almost sounding like a plea as you tried to reach for the underwear again, but as you did, he pulled his hand away. This time, going as far as to stuff them into the back pocket of his jeans. You groaned in annoyance at the sight. “You’re being an asshole.” 

“And you’re a fucking liar,” he taunted, stepping closer again. This time until he was no more than a few inches away. Your body was fully pressed against the dryer then, it hot along the skin on the back of your thighs. “So admit it.” 

“Admit what?” 

He leaned closer, his lips nearly tracing the shell of your ear, all while his hands moved up, fingers brushing across your bare ribs so softly it hadn’t felt real. They slipped away, instead pressing along the dryer behind you that was still running. He had you caged in, his chest warm against yours. 

“That you want this. That you want me.” 

A breathy sigh fell away, your lips practically trembling as all of the hair on your body seemed to stand straight up. 

He continued, “You say I’m the asshole but you’re the one who walks around doing your laundry in nothing but a skimpy shirt. You fucking want me to see you like that, don’t you? Like this? You want to tempt me. But that’s the thing isn’t it? You only act like a whore if it means getting my attention. Isn’t that right?” 

“Anakin…” his name almost sounding like a moan as it slipped, body leaning further into his involuntarily. 

“Say it, Y/N. Fucking say it, and I’m yours.” 

You sighed, the most hopeless sound because he had you. He always did. How was it happening? You weren’t sure, but it was all that mattered. “Fine, I want you.” 

He smiled a grin that was so full of himself as he reached forward, his hand gripping your jaw so firmly in his hand. It happened so quick, then, the feeling of him pulling you forward. It was almost like you could have gotten whiplash as his lips consumed you, enveloping you in what could only be described as pure sin. Without a moment to even feel them on yours, his tongue was parting your lips, slipping in without you giving much of a fight. A moan was ripped free from your throat as he branded you over and over, his taste coated along your tongue, faintly tasting of mint gum and cigarettes. 

Somehow it wasn’t anything you thought it would be like. It was better, intangible, unable to fully grasp until it was happening, leaving you to spin, to drip with need, and in a way, begging for penance. His body collided with yours, his other hand roughly grabbing your hip, slamming you further into the dryer, the vibration of it catching your attention as he did so. As his knee parted your legs, you twitched, the feeling of his clothed knee too much as he pressed it up against your core. 

Gasping, your hands shot forward, pushing at his chest. It was enough for his lips to part from yours, with a string of his saliva pooling around the corners of your lips. “Wait, not here.” 

You looked around the empty laundry room, suddenly awfully aware of the possibility for anyone to walk in. Especially those who had their laundry going in the machines. 

He chuckled, the sound making your legs clench again, but this time around, his knee stood in the way. He smirked at the sight, his voice lowering, “Yes, here.” 

You couldn’t deny how it had made you feel, the dominance doing something to you. So much so that you relaxed under his hooded eyes, giving in once again. It was enough of an answer for him as he immediately went to your cotton shorts, yanking them down from your hips. The material loosened and pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but the black pair of soft panties you had slipped on after your shower. 

“Not red,” he chuckled, hands ghosting along your ribs, thumbs tempting to brush along your nipples through the material of your shirt, “But fuck are they still pretty.” 

His knee pressed up further against the material, the thin material that was soaked to the point that he was risking having a stain left when he pulled it away. You whimpered at the feeling, desperate for any relief you hadn’t been able to get since you laid eyes on him for the first time. You couldn’t help but sink down on him, the feeling sending a shock through your core and another sound to fall from your blissfully kissed lips. 

He took in the sight, not caring who saw. Not if it meant he had his claim on you, that everyone knew. That they all were aware of how fucking obsessed you were, with him, his cock, that you would be willing to get caught. With lidded eyes just as desperate for you as you were for him, he let his fingers trace down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he found the waistband of your underwear. Your chest tightened again in anticipation, as his fingers slid down further until they were pressed along the front of it, able to feel the wetness that had soaked all the way through. 

His ego was huge at that point, almost feeling accomplished by his handy work. His thumb found the bundle of nerves with ease as if this hadn’t been his first time with you, but rather had memorized your body, knew just how exactly to get you to come undone. Pressing down, he bit down on his bottom lip, watching as your head lulled back, a desperate sound-emitting. 

He couldn’t take it then, and neither could you. When he pulled away, you gasped in protest, ready to glare at him, but that inclination disappeared as he reached for the button of his jeans. You were practically drooling as it popped, followed by the sound of the zipper being yanked down. Your chest was rising and falling, so much anticipation forming along your skin in the form of sweat, the spot between your legs throbbing to the point of it almost being painful. 

You were ready to beg. If he wasted any more time, you would. You didn’t care how desperate and defiling it felt then because if it were any other man, you wouldn’t, but for him, you would. You would over and over if it meant it would lead to this. Your breath hitched as he reached for the waistline of his boxers, sliding them down just enough to release his dick from the confines of the material. 

Fuck, even his dick was perfect. 

The sight of it had you nearly collapsing, completely acting like an idiot just at the sight. Who knew all it took was one cock to have you completely silent, lost for words. It had never happened, never thought it could, until him. It was the way it erected out, almost touching the material of his hoodie, red, already slick with precum. A world where he wanted you back seemed so implausible, and yet the sight of that alone could have had you cumming on the spot. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, wrapping one of his hands around the base of it, he hissed slightly at the contact. 

“Anakin, fuck just, please,” you whimpered further, and you hated how it sounded across your tongue, but that thought disappeared quickly as he moved closer. 

With one hand pushing your underwear to the side, the other aided his dick in sliding in between your folds. It was only the tip, and yet at the feeling, you were a mess. A mess of chewing on your lower lip, just desperately wishing for this feeling to never end. If you could have this for the rest of your life every day, you would. The feeling of him over and over again would be a mantra you would strive for if it always felt like this. 

Your walls were tight around him, and both being so impatient, he thrust forward, bottoming out quickly. A small noise fell from your lips at the feeling of his tip colliding deeply inside, your walls tightening, sucking him in perfectly. 

“Ah, fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice enough to make you clench again, stomach fluttering as his forehead softly met yours. 

There was a second, a brief moment where neither of you moved. It was only heavy breathing accompanied by the sounds of the dryers, and you knew it was equally the nastiest but most perfect moment of your life. Then with his lips collapsing on yours once again, he began to move. Pulling out, he trusted back in, rocking his hips against yours. He swore under his breath, dick twitching though he had barely even started. With his lips claiming yours over and over, his hand trailed up along the side of your leg, taking hold of your knee to hike it up along his waist. At the new feeling, the stretch, paired with his dick still prodding, you moaned, the sound loud, louder than you anticipated it to be. 

He laughed, the sound vibrating against your chest. It only got worse as his other hand slipped down in between your bodies locating your clit with ease through your underwear. Pulling out all the way, he shoved himself all the way back in, eliciting sounds you didn’t know you could even derive. Your body arched into his, legs already like jelly as his thumb circled the bundle of nerves slowly, almost too slowly. The feeling of the soft fabric of the underwear only added more friction and you were spiraling at how quickly your pussy tightened around his length. 

He grunted, a string of curse words slipping as he harshly pinned your body back against the dryer, the vibration of the machine only heightening it all further. You wouldn’t last long, you knew that, practically able to hear your heart in your ears, stomach clenching with that familiar knot. Your hands reached out to grip his shoulders, the material of his hoodie curling under your fingers as you held onto him so tightly as if you were trying to mold the two of your bodies into one. 

Moving so quickly at that point, he was reaching that very spot inside you couldn’t do yourself, and it had your head spinning, chest rising and falling, as you desperately craved the high more than even drugs or alcohol. 

“Say my name, baby,” he pleaded then, sounding so whiny as his blue eyes met yours. “Come on. Say it. Say it like you do when you’re laying in bed, hand going to fucking work in between your legs.” 

Sweat gathered along his brow, while the tops of his cheeks were staining red. The sound of the pet name had you almost crying, leg tightening around his waist, as every part of your body seemed lit on fire. 

“Anakin,” you moaned softly. 

“No,” he demanded glaring down at you, “Not like that.” 

He began to speed up his assault on your clit, and you could barely stand at that point, body almost leaning completely back on the dryer. That was enough to get what he wanted as his name began to spill from your mouth louder than it ever had before. 

He swore again, his grunts filling your ears as his palm tightened around your hip. He was moving so quickly, sliding in and out, you could feel your wetness dripping down your inner thighs, the sounds so loud in your ears. His thumb never faltered or stopped as he pulled all the way out and then back in, wanting you to take him in inch by inch. Before you had even realized it, your walls were tightening around him, your stomach clenched, eyes squeezed shut like you were chasing stars. 

That feeling snapped, a lull, and you were a moaning mess as you held onto him, knowing you couldn’t stand on your own. Fingers digging deeply into his shoulders, body relaxing slightly while the orgasm washed over you, he didn’t dare stop. Anakin only pulled out to slam back into you, the flutter of your walls pulling him in over and over again. Chasing his high so desperately, it didn’t take long, until he was stilling completely, cumming inside of you. 

You hadn’t let anyone else do that, but for him, it was a privilege. It was almost like your pussy was promised for him and him alone. His forehead fell down against yours, body relaxing into yours for a moment, only a few seconds, not long enough as your walls pulsed around him, now soft inside of you. He pulled out with ease, the loss of him and the cool air startling you to clamp your legs shut. 

He stuffed himself back into his pants and looked down at you almost proudly, your fucked out gaze enough to have him wanting to take you back to his apartment and keep it going all night long, but you had places to be instead. Smirking, his eyes fell down to your lower half, and he couldn’t resist then. Fingers finding the sides of your underwear, they hooked around them before pulling them down your frame and to your ankles. Though confused, you followed, stepping out of them. 

At the loss of them, you could feel the mixed wetness pooling out of you and down the inside of your legs, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Proud of his handiwork, Anakin reached behind him in his back pocket and took out the red lacy underwear. He held them out in his hands, stretching them as he demanded softly, “Step in.” 

Listening, you stepped into the underwear, the clean red lacy underwear that had started all of this. Then tantalizing as if he wanted to torture you further, he pulled them up your legs slowly, agonizingly slow, and then up and over your butt until they sat comfortably along your hips, surely soaking in what the two of you had done.

Leaning forward, he left a lingering peck on your hip bone, and you sighed at the feeling. He slid your shorts back on next before standing and as he did, you could still feel the flush in your cheeks, reality catching up to you. 

Having exchanged the red underwear for the black ones you wore, he shoved the dirty ones into his back pocket. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think straight, as your heart seemed to be beating out of your chest. With that smirk, that glint on his goddamn face, he reached forward, thumb pulling your bottom lip free before letting it snap back into place. 

“I expect those panties of yours to remain where they are your whole date, got it? And tell Cole ‘hi’ for me, will you?” 

There was one thing for sure, Anakin Skywalker despised you, or not anymore, at least because, after all, he got the one thing he had been dying of thirst for. He would make sure you never ignored him again, even if it was when you were doing your damn laundry. 

[daisynik7]

“freak-a-leek” by petey pablo for a jean and eren threesome if that’s okay plz

Freek-A-Leak

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Jean Kirstein

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.9k

cw: modern setting au, explicit language, p*rn w/no plot, smut – threesome, PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, blowjob, sex toy use, masturbation, cum-eating, dirty talk, sex without a condom, pet names (baby, sweetheart), reader has multiple orgasms, creampies, just some overall smutty silliness

Summary: You’re on a business trip with the two cockiest salesmen in your department: Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein. After a long day of dealing with them clashing over the silliest things, you decide to unwind in your hotel room the best way you know how. 

Author’s Note: This is the last song on the y2k karaoke party playlist! Thank you so much for the request anon! I had fun with this! It’s all horny and just plain silly, so I hope you like it. Thank you so much for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune. 

It’s almost 10 PM when you finally make it back to your hotel room, completely spent from today’s activities. It’s the first day of the conference here in Marley and being stuck in the middle of Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein has proven to be much more exhausting than you anticipated. 

You’re not completely convinced you needed to come on this business trip with them. After all, they’re the top two salesmen in your department, and this conference is solely for selling your product to new customers. Your boss, Hangë, encouraged you, the lead design engineer, to tag along in case they needed any technical support while demonstrating the ODM equipment. You were reluctant at first, but when they emphasized the fact that this trip would be completely paid for, including the lodging and food, how could you refuse? 

Unfortunately for you, because of the two clashing personalities between Jean and Eren, you ended up playing mediator throughout the day rather than engineer. The two bickered as usual, from where to eat, to what side of the table they wanted to stand on. In front of the customers, they were professional and charismatic, no hint of animosity lingering around them. As soon as it was the three of you alone, it was nonstop arguing and snide remarks, with you doing your best to either ignore it or alleviate it until the next fight arose. 

Luckily for you, Hangë set you up with your own room at the hotel while the other two shared the one right beside you. There’s an adjoining door for easy access into each other’s space and Jean begs you to open it when you first check in, not wanting a single moment alone with his temporary roommate. But after today’s festivities, you’re desperate for some private time by yourself.

Jean steps into your room, leaning against the doorframe. “So, should we watch a movie?” he suggests, still in his dress shirt, tie loosened around his collar.

Eren appears behind him, on his tip-toes to get your attention. “Why don’t we play video games instead?”

You yawn, shooing them away. “I’m exhausted, so I’m going to sleep.” 

You try to shut the door on them, but Jean pushes back, persistent. “You’re not seriously going to leave me alone with him, are you?” He points his thumb to the man behind him. 

Eren scoffs. “I don’t want to be alone with you either!”

“Dude, you are breathing down my neck! Give me some space.”

“Then move so I can talk to her!”

“It’s not your turn to talk!”

“Guys!” you yell, losing your patience. “I am tired. Try to get along so we can all get some sleep. Please?”

They grumble to themselves, shoving elbows at each other before they finally leave you alone, closing the door to give you your peace. You don’t bother locking in, certain they won’t be bothering you the rest of the night. 

After a nice, hot shower, you get comfortable in your pajamas, rummaging through one of your pouches until you find what you’re looking for. After a long day with those two goofballs, the best way for you to relieve stress is to have a little playtime. You carry your vibrator with you to bed, one ear bud in, and your favorite naughty audio ready to play on your phone. Only five minutes in, with the fluttering tip pressed to your clit, it doesn’t take long for you to orgasm. Ready for another, you get distracted by the muffled voices of your neighbors, bickering once again. You pop your ear bud out, trying to hear whatever dumb topic they’re arguing about now. The toy is still vibrating in your hands, the tip wet with your arousal. You let your imagination wander, thinking of Jean and Eren just on the other side of the wall. Hot, heated, raring to go. Fantasizing about the nasty, filthy things they could do to you if they knew just how horny you are, pent up with sexual frustration from all the testosterone you were surrounded with today. 

Suddenly, the door swings open and Eren stomps into the room, shouting your name. “Who do you find more annoying, me or him?!” Jean follows right on his tail, trying to grab him by the collar of his undershirt, hissing, “She’s sleeping, you dumbass!” They stop in their tracks, staring wide-eyed at you with your legs spread open on the bed, blanket shrugged off, vibrator buzzing in your hand. Completely exposed.

You quickly pull the covers over you, hiding the toy beneath your pillow, mortified. “What the fuck?!” you yell out to them. 

Both of them gape at you, blushing all the way down to their necks, speechless for the first time all day. Their silence is louder than any squabbling they’ve done today, and you have no idea what to say to make this any less awkward than it already is. 

Before you can think of another response, Eren clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey Jean. Bet I can make her come harder than you can.”

Jean glances at him, hesitant at first, then relaxes into a smirk. “Oh yeah? You’re on.”

Eren steps towards the bed, grinning at you. “What do you say? Will you help us?” 

You stare at them, befuddled and also extremely intrigued by this offer. Deciding quickly, you nod at them, releasing the grip on the blanket. They both smile at you, putting a flutter in your belly. Eren laughs, tugging on the covers slowly. “Come on. You can’t hide from us now.”

Jean joins in, dragging it down your body until you’re on display again, pussy glistening from your first orgasm. They both swear under their breaths, Eren licking his lips while Jean bites his. “Fuck, did you already come?”

“Yeah, I did,” you answer, pussy aching to be touched by either one of them. Both of them.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Eren says, inching towards you. “You’re extra juicy for me, huh?”

“Why do you get to go first?” Jean butts in, scowling. 

Eren positions himself at your arousal, his breath hot on your pussy as he replies, “I don’t want to lick your spit.”

“Well, I don’t want to lick yours either! Let me goes first.”

“Fuck you, I’m already here.”

“Then move!” 

“Guys!” you cry out, bucking your hips, desperate for anything at this point. “Just hurry up and touch me. Please.”

Eren sticks his tongue out. “You heard her,” he muffles, licking circles around your clit. “Let’s make our girl feel good.”

Jean swallows hard, positioning himself beside you, puckering his lips around your nipples and sucking. You moan, arching your back off the bed, running your fingers through his hair. “Feels so good,” you whine, feeding your other breast to him. He latches on immediately, pulling your teat between his lips while Eren laps at your puffy clit. With your free hand, you grab hold of his hair, gripping it to pull him deeper into your cunt. Soon, you’re gushing on his face, rutting your hips against him while he swallows every drop of you. 

“Fuck, you taste good,” Eren says, tongue prodding into your slit. 

“I want a taste too,” Jean mutters, giving your nipple one last hard suck before he releases you with a wet pop. 

“Not yet,” Eren murmurs, kissing the soft plush of your thighs. 

Jean crawls to where he is, shoving him slightly to stick his face into your pussy. “It’s my turn, jackass.” He laps at your clit, determined to be better than his rival. 

Eren laughs, collecting your slick slathered on his chin and lips with his fingers, licking it off. “Be honest, baby. Is he doing better than me?” He strips out of his bottoms, lying beside you, stroking his hard cock. 

You squeeze your thighs around Jean’s head, bucking into his mouth, already close to your third climax. Your eyes go from Eren’s fist jerking himself off to Jean’s face shaking between your legs, eating you out feverishly. He teases a finger inside you and when you flutter around it, he slides in all the way, adding a second.

“No fair,” Eren breathes out, stroking himself faster.

Jean chuckles against your skin, sucking on your clit while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You turn your head to face Eren, leaning towards him to kiss him sloppily. He cradles your cheek with his free hand, pulling you in deeper, tongue swirling around yours, slurping up your spit. Once again, you’re pushed over the edge, coming on Jean’s face this time, his nose pressed to your sensitive bud as he drinks up all the slick leaking out of you. 

“Fuck me,” you beg, not directing it to anyone in particular.

Eren smiles against your mouth, licking your drool off the corners of your lips. “Go ahead, Jean. You can go first.”

Jean shoves his pants down, releasing his stiff cock, palming it. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says, kneeling next to your head, tracing your lips with the tip of his cock. “We’re having way too much fun right here, aren’t we sweetheart?” You nod in response, moaning around his dick as you sink your mouth on it, swallowing it until it’s to the back of your throat. “Fuck, you take it so good. You wanted to get fucked like this tonight, huh? Wanted to show us what a freak you are.”

Jean slides his cock inside you, stretching you out until he bottoms out. He spreads your legs apart, holding you open so he can pound straight into you. Eren’s focus goes from his own pleasure to his friend thrusting. “Fuck her harder, Jean.”

He obeys, picking up the pace, shoving himself deeper. You choke on your own moans, pulling off Eren to catch your breath. He cradles your face in his hands, massaging your cheeks tenderly. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Take a break. Just enjoy getting fucked by this fat cock.”

“Fuck,” Jean growls, closing his eyes. “I’m so close.”

Eren licks his lips, watching. “Don’t pull out. Fill her up.”

At that, Jean loses it, spurting his hot load inside you, your pussy fluttering around him. He pulls out, switching spots with Eren, snuggling up next to you to kiss you softly. You smile at him, whispering, “Thank you.”

He plants a smooch on your nose. “Thank you, baby.”

“Hey, don’t forget about me,” Eren says, guiding his hard cock inside you. “I’m going to fuck all this cum right back inside this cunt.”

You and Jean both moan, watching him fuck you with a devilish grin on his face. Jean reaches under the pillow, retrieving the toy you used earlier. “Can I use this on you?”

Incoherent and fucked out, you nod, desperate for whatever it is they want to offer to you. He presses the button, making the vibrator buzz in his grip, pressing the fluttering tip to your clit while Eren continues to ravish you. His eyes widen when he sees what Jean’s doing. “Oh shit. She’s squeezing me so fucking tight.” 

You’re in a drunken daze, trembling all over your body from the pleasure, whimpering uncontrollably with Jean toying with your clit as Eren fucks your brains out. When you reach your final climax, Eren comes with you, burying his cum deep inside your womb. You’re stuffed to the brim with both their loads, feeling exhausted and euphoric. 

Eren pulls out, cuddling up to your other side, kissing your forehead. Jean sets the vibrator aside, spooning you from the back. You relax in their arms, actually happy to be stuck in the middle of them for once.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Eren asks jokingly, “So…who won?”

“Obviously me,” Jean grins, kissing your neck.

You laugh, snuggling closer to the both of them. “I think I’m the real winner here.”

[petpenname]

❤️‍🔥Red Wine Supernova❤️‍🔥

pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverterd(f)reader c.w. smoking, drinking summary: modern college au, dealer!ellie x introverted!(f)reader, slow burn with some sad elements, inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want To Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're a Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: this ones long buckle up

Part Two

Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots

Music filled House 03 in each room as the girls got ready for that night's party. Olivia and Ivy share a room, blasting 2000’s pop throwbacks and club hits as they adorned themselves with low rise jeans and sparkles. Phoebe was playing 70s hits from the living room. Her and Daniel in matching bellbottoms, lounging on the couch pregaming already. Sage was in your room, as you struggled to form an outfit. Sitting pretty in her 90’s basement grunge attire, she questioned you about the night before.

Sage: “So she actually came over?! And you smoked with her! Look at you!”

“No, don't look at me! I don't know what to wear!” You say, holding up articles of clothing. “But yeah, she texted me while I was in the bath!”

“Oh, sensual,” Sage said with a wink. Seeing your distressed look she dropped the teasing and turned her attention to your wardrobe which was strewn across your room. 

“What about those white boots! You could go as a go-go dancer!” Sage pointed at a pair of knee high white platform boots. You had only worn them out once but they were practically perfect for a 60’s themed look. 

You picked them up, “okay yeah, but what do I wear them with?” “I dunno, a mini skirt?” Sage said laughing, she left the room to start pregaming and give you space to get ready.

You end up putting on a pink and orange plaid mini dress that fits your curves so perfectly. You opt to have your hair down and natural, pinning back one side behind your ear. A simple eye look to complete the look with a signature 60s line above your eye, in pink of course.  

You stand in front of your full-body mirror inspecting yourself. You are usually confident in your looks but tonight you feel an extra form of confidence. Something about the spontaneity of last night after a grueling finals week. 

“Hey y/n, you're almost ready?!” You hear Ivy shout from down the hall.

“Yeah! Coming!” You grab a cute white shoulder bag and put your go-go boots on. Grabbing your phone, extra lip gloss and taking one more look in the mirror before heading downstairs. 

Your roommates are pregaming in the kitchen when you come down too hoots and hollers about how great you look. You return the girls compliments taking in everyone's looks. Phoebe hands you a shot and a lime and you all take one for the road. The walk to House 09 takes less than 10 minutes. You and Sage take up the rear of the group adventure.

“So are you going to see Ellie tonight?” Sage nudges you in the side playfully 

“I don't know, probably, she said she would be here?” You are looking down to hide your obvious blushing. You had confided in Sage the most about your sexuality. Having come out as bisexual last year you've only had two girlfriends, which didn't end the best. You had a tendency to shut yourself away and you guess that didn't sit right with partners. But you also felt like they never respected your space. You decided to focus on yourself but sometimes, stoned, late at night Sage would get you to confess how lonely you were. You yearned for someone to love you, and for you to love them back.

“Wait, Sage, did you set this up or something like some blind date?” You remembered how Sage introduced Phoebe to Daniel and their relationship was solid. 

“No dude!” Sage chuckled. “I promise, Ellie asked for your number, practically begged for it! And plus she's been dropping off to the house for months now, don't you think I would have set you up sooner if i thought about it?”

Ellie begged for it? Intrusive thoughts of Ellie on her knees looking up at you with those emerald eyes flash through your mind, making your heart skip a beat. You sigh, pushing the perverted thought away. “okay yeah i guess not, I don't know she seems cool, i hardly know her though.” 

“Well get to know her!” Sage jumps ahead of you and turns down the path to H09, music already blaring into the street . You take a breath of air before following your roommates into the loud college party. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few hours are a blur of colored lights, dance music, and drinking. You don’t drink alot but you are also more familiar with the taste of liquor than smoke. So in the company of your roommates you take another shot and accept a mixed drink from Daniel, the designated bartender for the house. 

“Do you guys want to go dance?” Ivy shouts over the music

You all exchange nods, leaving Phoebe with her boyfriend at the makeshift bar and head to the living room to dance.

Whatever was in your cup tonight let you let loose a little more than usual. You worked up a sweat dancing to hits from the 50s to the 2000’s. Before you know it the room was getting a little too hot and you were a little too out of breath. You gestured to Sage to get her attention,

“I'm going to step out back for some air!” you say fanning yourself, still stepping to the beat

“Okay girl! Do you want company?” Sage responds over the music

“No no keep dancing! I'll find you guys!”

“Dont Irish Goodbye on us again y/n!” Ivy points and dances in your direction. “I'll come find you if you're not back in twenty minutes!” she blows you a kiss.

You laugh, “I won't leave! Promise!” Dancing your way out of the mass of moving bodies you head through the house and out into the back yard. The cool air instantly gives you a sense of relief as the commotion from inside gets muffled by the closing door. You choose to sit on the porch steps, staring up at the sky and you start to look for stars.

 Due to the light pollution you are only able to see a handful of stars at the moment. While you are looking you hear the back door open and close. Glancing over your shoulder you see none other than Ellie step outside, face flushed and hair slightly damp clinging to her neck. She wore a white tank top, blue flannel and blue jeans, the same dirty converse from last night. 

“Oh hey whats up cutie! You made it!” Ellie says when she catches your eye. She fumbles over to you and sits down next to you, letting out a sigh. “Oh my god it's hot in there, yeah?” “Hey, yeah it is” you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. She called you that name again. You both avert your gaze from each other, a beat of awkward silence before Ellie says, “you want to smoke with me?” and pulls out another immaculately rolled joint. 

“Only if you tell me what decade you're supposed to be dressed up as?” you joke, looking her over. Most of the guests had gone all out with their fits. 

Ellie chuckles “Whichever decade that supplies this party with weed.” 

“Sooo 90s?” You say as you watch her face light up as she sparks the joint. 

“Sure let's go with that” she exhales, turning her body towards you, with one leg bent on the deck and the other stretched out down the steps. She leans towards you slightly as she hands you the joint.

“And you are…. No don't tell me…. 70’s?” Ellie guesses as you take a drag from the joint.

You let the smoke out as you giggle, “no! 60’s! I'm wearing go-go boots”  You stick a leg up and gesture to your boots

Before you could think Ellie reaches out and touches your boot, sliding her long fingertips, from the ankle up to the top. “Oh wow, yeah now i see them” flicking her eyes from your leg to make eye contact with you. 

Your ears become hot at the sudden contact and you put your leg back down, take another puff before handing it back. There are those flutterings, they are much lower tonight.

“Wow and you're smoking more tonight! You're like a totally different person than who I met yesterday.” Ellie jokes as she takes the joint and leans back on her other hand. “Miss never goes to parties”, she teases.

Still feeling her gaze on you, you can't bring yourself to look at her so you look back at the night sky, leaning back on your hands. “Don’t get used to it, this is my one outing of the semester.” 

“Yeah me too, honestly.” Ellies tone turns a little serious as she too looks up at the night sky, taking another drag of the joint and using it to point.

“The Big Dipper should be right there, you can see the start of it, but there's too much light to see the rest.”

“Mhmm” you hum, “I wish i could see them all, I could in my hometown.” 

“Yeah me too” Ellie says, “Do you want another hit off this?” 

You look back down and the simple motion of your head moving in space brings your awareness to just how fucked up you are. You know alcohol takes a bit to have an effect but you have also never drank and smoked together. 

“No, thanks, ugh I'm feeling a bit light headed.” you say.

“Oh shit” Ellie puts out the joint and flicks it away, “Do you need some water?” 

“Yeah that would be cool, I just need to catch my breath” You say as cooly as possible.

“Okay stay right here!” Ellie gets up and is gone in a flash,

Your head is spinning and you grab onto the railing for some stability, willing yourself not to throw up in this back yard. Deep breaths in and out help you regain a bit of your strength and feeling. You hear the backdoor open and shut as a few pairs of feet hit the deck. 

“Hey, hey girl you okay?” Sage is next to you with a glass of water, you take and sip it slowly.

“Hey dude yeah, i'm good, I don't know if i'll go back inside though.” 

“Yeah that's understandable, did you smoke too?”

You nod, and take another sip of water. Sage gives you a sympathetic look through her own blood shot eyes.

“I'll walk her home” you hear Ellie say, who you realize had been standing behind you the whole time.  

Sage looks up, “oh yeah, I mean if you don't mind? You cool with that y/n?  

You finish the water and hand your cup back to Sage, “Yeah, you stay Sage, tell Ivy I'm sorry for leaving again”

“Sure babes, and hey it's not an irish goodbye if you say goodbye!” She helps you up and says bye to Ellie and you before going inside. 

“Are you sure you're feeling okay?” Ellie turns to you, a look of worry on her face.

“Yeah I'm feeling better now, I just have never smoked and drank together before.” 

Ellie laughs, “damn what are you a virgin too?” 

Such a direct joke caught you off guard, “uh no, i'm not.” you say defensively, turning away feeling your cheeks flush.

“I'm kidding, I promise! Sorry, come on let's get you home hun”

You curse yourself for being so quick to defend yourself, you were actually quite experienced, at least with your own body. You just didn't know exactly how to express that to your partners. 

Ellie led you out the back garden gate holding it open for you, you felt her hand cup the small of your back as she guided you to the sidewalk. You let her hand rest on your waist as her warmth warms you up in the cool night air. 

“Are you going to go back to the party?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Nah probably not, i dont really hang out with a lot of people. I just go to sell.” Ellie responds matter of factly. 

“What about your roommate?”

“Oh Dina? She’s with Jessie, I love hanging out with them but I have the dorm all to myself tonight!” She gives you that stupid sideways grin again

You smile back at her before looking forward, feeling a bit nervous realizing how close you two were walking. Her hand still on the small of your back, and her index finger tracing small circles, like she was nervous too. 

You walk the rest of the block in silence and she walks up to your front door, stepping away from you before saying, “You sure you're okay to be left alone? I feel like I need to see you drink another glass of water.” 

Maybe it was the joint, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the feeling deep inside of you wishing for someone to be close to you again. You missed her warmth. Either way you find yourself answering before thinking

“You could just come in? I'll drink a glass of water to prove I'm good!” You hold a hand to your chest like making a royal promise. 

Ellie chuckles, scratching the back of her neck and looking down, “Oh shit, yeah sure, I’ll come in” Did you just make her nervous?

“Cool” You say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You enter the house, flipping on a few lights and tossing your bag on the table. 

“I have to get out of my shoes first!” you exclaim, taking a seat, suddenly out of breath again.

“Here allow me!” Ellie says, skipping to your side and kneeling down, before you could protest she has your right leg in her hands, inspecting for a zipper. “It's on the inside” you laugh at her willingness for chivalry, pointing at the zipper on the inside of your ankle.

“Inside huh?” Ellie said in a tone that made your stomach flip. She finds the zipper, pulls down and slides the boot off your leg. Revealing fuzzy pink socks adorned with a Kirby embroidered at the top. Holy shit you forgot you had those socks on?!

“Oh my god Kirby!” Ellie laughs, “I didn't know what socks to expect but i dont think these were it.”

“What's wrong with kirby?” You counter teasingly, the alcohol giving you some courage post sock reveal.

“Nothing! I just feel like i'm finding out little crumbs of information about you”, Ellie laughs again, “You're like a puzzle, or a riddle? I just want to get to know you.” she looks you in the eyes when she says that. 

That last sentence felt so personal. You sat back in silence as Ellie removed your other shoe, revealing a second, pink kirby sock. She looks up at you and you realize she's on her knees, in front of you. Did you dream this into reality? How did such a pretty girl just fall into your life like this? You almost lose yourself in her eyes before she speaks again.

“You still gotta drink water for me, pretty girl.” 

You nod, as she rises from the floor and looks around for the kitchen. Rising too and guiding her in the dim lit kitchen you grab a glass of water and return to stand in front of her to drink it. Finishing strong with a sigh and a smile, you set the glass down on the counter and turn to her.

“All done” you say

“Good girl” Ellie says with a smirk, staring into your eyes. Your stomach does a flip again, she is way too comfortable calling you pet names. 

Like magnets the two of you slide closer until you are inches away from each other in the dim kitchen light. Both of your breaths hitch as you watch Ellie's eyes dart from your eyes, to your lips, and back up. You swear you could stare at her like this for hours, but you wanted nothing more than to closet the space between you two.

*DING DING*

The ring of Ellies phone sounds off in her pockets, startling both of you away from the tension boiling between you. 

“Ah fuck what now” Ellie says under her breath. She quickly checks her phone and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuckers need more weed at the party. I should probably let you get your beauty sleep huh?” She says, shoving her phone back in her pocket.

You involuntarily let out a yawn as she makes the suggestion and you hide your face from her gaze. Partially from the yawn, mostly to hide your disappointment “yeah, I should probably sleep this buzz off, I'll walk you out?” 

“Sure thing” she says.

You both head for the door, Ellie lingers a bit, swaying side to side before saying bye and dipping fast down the steps. You say bye and close the door behind her. Stealing yourself upstairs to take off your makeup and outfit. A quick self care routine later and you are passed out in bed.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie lights a joint in frustration as she walks out of H09. She really didn't want to go back there but ended up staying another hour because Jessie and Dina guilted her into drinking more. Thoughts of you swirl in the girl's head as she makes the walk to her dorm. Your eyes, your legs, your lips, your kirby socks. Ellie laughs to herself, and pulls out her phone. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up the next morning with a headache. Checking the time on your phone you're shocked to see you slept in until 11!

You have a few unread messages:

Ellie: want to meet for coffee? Ivy: I made pancakes! Sage: how can you have so much energy all the time? Be right ther Olivia: shhh sleeping

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Meet for coffee??” Sage said, mouth full of pancake. You and your roommates are sitting around the kitchen eating room-temperature pancakes and discussing the night before. 

“That's what she said?!” you say, pouring some syrup over your breakfast.

“Well are you gonna go?” Ivy asks from the pantry

“I mean, yeah? I should, right?” “Only if you want to girl” Olivia say beside you

“Oh she wants to” Sage says with wink in your direction

“I do!” You say blushing, “I'm just nervous! The last times we interacted were so spontaneous. And this is like, she's asking me out!” 

“It's just coffee babes you'll be okay! Its casual” Olivia says with a reassuring rub on your back

You smile at your roomates as you pick your phone up, responding to Ellie

y/n: “Okay :) when?”

30 seconds later you receive a text;

Ellie: “Sweet :), 1pm at the cafe?”

y/n: “I'll see you there!” 

You smile at your phone for sec before your roomates all join in on a group “oooooooooo” 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1pm comes fast. After breakfast you help clean then retire to your room to shower and get ready. It's a little chilly out this morning so you opt for a chunky sweater, comfortable wide leg pants, and sneakers. After checking yourself in your mirror and in Sage’s mirror, with her approval and luck, you head out the door. 

The walk to the cafe felt like it took forever. You become hyper aware of yourself, your outfit, anxieties bubbling up in your mind as you try to stay calm. You round a corner and can see the cafe now, and something in you stops you in your tracks. 

Memories of your past relationships flash in your mind. How hurt you were, how misunderstood you felt. Being lonely was familiar but it always stung when someone left your life. You will yourself to take a chance, your roommate’s comment in your mind for comfort. You’re just meeting for coffee, it's casual. With a deep breath, trying to gain some confidence you continue forward. You open the door to the cafe stepping in, warm cinnamon and coffee bean scents fill the air while a lofi beats track plays over the speakers. You look around and it takes you just a moment to find Ellie sitting at a table in the corner. She has a baseball cap on, looking down so she didn't see you come in. 

You take in her appearance while walking over. She's manspreading comfortably in dark green cargos, a gray t-shirt, a black zip up hoodie and black converse. You knock lightly on the table to get her attention, startling Ellie who shoots up, almost knocking her chair over behind her. 

“Hi there” you say sweetly

“Oh y/n! Morning! Er afternoon, hey” She composes her surprise and smiles at you to sit down. “I got you a coffee!” 

You realize there are two coffee cups in front of you on the table. Ellie slides one over and you see your order written on the side in black ink. Medium mocha, with half chocolate. She remembered? 

“Oh wow thank you! Do I owe you anything?” you ask, accepting the drink.

“Of course not,” Ellie says leaning back, “I just made it before I finished my shift.” 

You take a sip of your coffee, and set it down, taking in the girl sitting before you. You realize that Ellie looks exceptionally tired, she has bags under her eyes and her lips are slightly crusty. She seemed to have energy, although that must be from the caffeine she's been having throughout her shift. 

“Did you have a good night?” Ellie asks, breaking your fantasy

“Oh! Yeah, i just passed out after you left and slept so long” You laugh, trying to hold eye contact. 

“Good you got your sleep, I wish I did, i forgot I worked this morning and got woken up by my boss calling me” Ellie sighs and sips her coffee

“Oh shit, we don't have to hang out if you're tired?” You say, secretly wanting to invite her back to yours to cuddle up and watch movies. But your body does not allow the thought to come out.

“No! I want to hang out! I actually wanted to show you something, if you're down?” Ellie asks

So many thoughts fill your mind with what this thing could be. Your curiosity is endless and quickly leads to images of Ellie pulling toys out of her backpack. 

“Yeah sure, I'm not doing anything today” You say, leaning forward on your hand with your elbow on the table. Searching Ellies expression for any sign of what her intentions were. 

Ellie just gives you a big grin and leans forward too, flashing her eyes from yours, to your lips, and back up. Instantly you're reminded of last night, you hadn't even thought about your almost kiss in the shadows of your kitchen. You feel your ears going hot and instinctually pull back to drink your coffee, hoping your eyes didn't display any of your shock from the memory. 

“Sounds good, if you're ready we can head out” Ellie suggests, keeping her eyes on you.

You nod and swallow, “sure, ya” you say, your voice a little quieter. 

Ellie rises from her seat, grabbing her coffee, waits for you to rise and follows you out of the cafe. “Here follow me!” she says when you two are outside, pointing behind her. You skip up to her side and follow her through campus. Making small talk, asking each other about your coffees & the weather. You realize that Ellie is leading you into the College neighborhood, the street that you live on. 

“You want to show me the street I live on?” You ask, laughing because as far as you know, this street is a Dead End. And you have been to that dead end. Maybe she was bringing you to a house? 

“I mean yes? And no, we are going to the end, there's a spot over there.” Ellie says, taking another sip of her coffee

You were pretty sure the dead end was fenced off with a thick forest behind it. Not being very adventurous you had never thought to explore past it. You and Ellie walk the length of the block, passing other college students. You approach the end of the street, the sidewalk seemingly ends and you wait to see what Ellie will do. 

She turns around to face you, “Do you trust me?” 

“I have no reason not to you” you giggle, “you're not going to murder me are you?”

“No! Oh my god, come on, this way” Ellie smirks and nods her head to the side of the street. 

House 10 was the last house on the street, and there was a thick hedge that ran the length of the house and the fence. Ellie walks you over and the perspective change reveals about two feet between the hedge and the fence. Ellie slips into the gap and takes a few steps before making sure you are following. You're right behind her, and comment “there are no spiders right?”

Ellie laughs, “dont worry ill scare them off. It's not too far.”

You walk maybe 10 feet between the hedge and fence before Ellie stops and crouches down. Ducking through a large hole in the chainlink fence and popping up on the other side to face you. “Here hand me your coffee!” she says, sticking a hand through the hole. 

You hand her your coffee and crouch down to do the same, almost slipping on a few leaves on the ground. 

“You good? Here you go” Ellie hands your coffee back and says “i promise its not far now, just through there.'' She walks into the forest. There's a makeshift trail probably formed by other students exploring back here, and you follow her for a few minutes. Listening to the sounds of birds and wind through the trees, you start to hear the sound of running water. The trail winds around, sunlight flashing through the leaves onto Ellies auburn hair. You can't help but get lost in her figure. Your mind trailing off to things too embarrassing to say, you have no idea how long you've been walking. Ellie turns around flashing you a smile, breaking you away from your bedroom thoughts.

“Its just up here! Come on!” She picks up a bit of pace, excitement getting the best of her. 

You follow her around another corner and see a pretty amazing sight. Large concrete structures from half of a building, overgrown with vines and graffiti painting the crumbling walls. There are steps leading up to a large concrete platform with two walls in the back. You take a sec to take it all in, Ellie bounds up the steps, turns to you and puts her arms out framing the scene.

“Ta-daaaaa! What do you think?”

“This place is so cool!” You say, following her up the steps and looking more closely at the graffiti. You read “smoke em if you got em”, & “JC’11” probably from a Jackson College graduate. One catches your eye, it's smaller and closer to the ground. A black heart with red lettering that says “girls kissing girls”. 

“Ya, right.” Ellie looks around with you at “her” spot -atleast she likes to think she's claimed it. “I found it a few months ago, I come here pretty often but don't really bring anyone. I don't want everyone to know about it.”

“Yea i can understand, its peaceful out here” you respond, focusing your attention back on her

“And you haven't seen the best part!” Ellie walks across the platform to the other side, where the other wall is missing. You follow her and realize that the water you heard had gotten a bit louder since you tuned into it. As you approach the opening in the wall you are perplexed with the beauty you see. A small waterfall cascades over moss covered rocks, flowing into a stream only a few feet wide and away into the forest. All the stars aligned for the sun to shine the most on this spot in the forest. The foliage was lush, moss covered all surfaces, and tiny flowers and mushrooms dotted the scene. 

“Yeah, it's pretty great, my own secret hiding spot.” Ellie beams, stretching her arms behind her head, trying to be as casual as possible. 

You looked in awe at the scene and Ellie looks in awe at you. Taking in your features, your soft lips, your beautiful skin. She wished she could capture this image of you forever in her mind. Never had she taken someone here before, but as soon as she met you, she wanted you here, with her. And there wasn't anything she wanted to do more than to kiss you.

“This is so beautiful” you say, “want to sit down?” You say turning to her, blushing at the strong eye contact youre met with.

Instinctually Ellie takes off her hoodie, stepping back and setting it down on the ground for you and her to sit on. You are able to see a large tattoo on her forearm, looks like a fern? You both position yourselves on the makeshift blanket, with your legs hanging over the side of the ledge. 

“Do you want to smoke? I haven't since before my shift.” Ellie says after a moment of silence. 

“Oh yeah, sure! But if you keep smoking me out and buying me coffee i'm going to have to make it up to you!” You say with a smirk, playfully nudging her with your elbow.

“I'll take whatever you give me,” Ellie says as she takes out a joint box from her pocket. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the possibilities of what your ‘repayment’ could be. 

You take the lit joint from Ellie and you two make small talk about the graffiti and nature surrounding you. Conversations turn more personal when you ask Ellie about her family. You learn of Joel, and the farm back home where Ellie spent most of her time shying away with her journal and guitar. Ellie spoke about coming out to Joel in highschool and how he was one of the only people who supported her through it. Her hometown wasn't the most accepting so she did not have many friends let alone relationships. You share your life too, realizing that you and Ellie have more things in common than you thought. Your family came around after a year or so of coming out but you only ‘came out’ to friends and the public when you moved to college. You had a boyfriend in highschool that ended badly and 1.5 relationships with girls since coming out. You say 1.5 because the first one was really a situationship that ended with the girl deciding she was straight. 

At this point the joint was dead and tossed in the brush. The sun was drifting behind the trees, casting a cool hue across the forest. 

Ellie and you listen to the stream in comfortable silence for a second. The joint is settling in nicely and bringing all your hidden thoughts to the surface. You wanted to kiss her, touch her. Your fingers are a mere centimeters from each other and you could feel the electricity through your whole body. 

Suddenly Ellie takes a breath, like she had been holding hers for a second. “CanIaskyousomething?” she says, in almost all one word. 

You turn your body to her, leaning forward slightly on your arm. “Anything” you say.

“I know… i know we just met, but, you’re really pretty and I was just wondering… canikissyou?

She rushes the last part but you hear clearly and your heart skips a beat. Ellie turns to look at you, searching your face for anything you're feeling. 

You're lost in her eyes again, your mind screaming yes but all you can do is nod at her, doe eyed and longing to feel her warmth.

Ellie breathes in looking at your lips before she leans forward, cradling your face in her hands and setting her lips on yours. The kiss is hot, passionate, slow but needy as your combined lust mixes together right there in the forest.  You feel like hours have gone by before you separate, looking into eachothers eyes, a line of spit connecting both your lips. Ellie looks like she's even higher than the joint made her and you can't help but giggle a little before going in for a second kiss. This time your hands go for her, brushing through her hair and grabbing at the nape of her neck. 

Separating for the second time ellie breathes, “wow, that was… wow”

You hum in approval, untangling your hand from her hair and resting it on your leg. You're both breathing a little heavy, lips tingling and palms sweaty. 

Ellie feels a buzz on her thigh and pulls out her phone to a string of texts, all from buyers hoping to make their Saturdays better.

“Ah fuck, im sorry, i wish we could stay here longer but, work calls…” She says with a sigh. She wishes she could stay here all day with you but Ellie was a business woman, plus she had been saving up for a few things and was so close to meeting her goal. 

You laugh, wanting to stay with her too, but you are getting hungry, probably from the joint. “That's okay, will you walk me back to the house?”

“Of course doll” Ellie says with a smile, making your already hot face burn with desire. You both stand and after grabbing her hoodie and coffee, without asking Ellie grabs your hand and begins to lead you back out of the forest. 

You walk hand in hand down the street in comfortable silence. The touch shared between you said more than you two could manage at the moment. You are submerged in your feelings and barely notice you getting to the walkway in front of your house. 

Ellie stops and turns to face you. Giving you a kiss on the back of the hand she says, “have a great day beautiful, i'll be thinking of you.”

You linger your hand in hers for a moment, blushing, mind blank but you know you need to respond. “Thanks for today Ellie, i'll talk to you soon.”

You start backing up the walkway, both of you not wanting to separate from each other's gaze. You both give one last little wave and you turn to walk into the house. 

Sage greets you from the couch, seeing the look on your face she jumps up and runs to hug you in excitement. Bringing you over to sit with her as you tell her about your time with Ellie. You feel this could be the beginning of something beautiful. Although hesitant to get close to someone again, you feel right with Ellie. You can’t help but imagine what life would be like with her. 

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a/n: AHHHHHHHHH thank u sm for the love :3 I'm actually so excited for part 3... might even open submissions for other fandoms? idk I'm just having fun! Tag List: @vqxen @bready101 @sourgummywormsss @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[thebisexualdogdad]

Modern AU!One Piece characters as roommates

Luffy -

● the roommate who eats your food with no remorse

● put your name clearly labeled on your leftovers? Doesn't matter he's gonna eat it anyways

● is the reason why you never have food in the fridge

● can't be trusted to go to the grocery store alone because he would only come back with junk food and spent way over the allotted budget

● often is short on his part of the rent because he used some of it to buy pizza at the last minute

Nami -

● the roommate who takes some time to grow on

● at first she's very reclusive, stays in her room as much as possible and always has her headphones in to avoid conversation when you cross paths

● keeps to herself and doesn't really try to be friends with you because “we're not friends you're just my roommate”

● but eventually realizes you're not so bad after actually having a meal with you

● but she still won't call you her friend

Sanji -

● the roommate who is always throwing parties and inviting friends over

● sleeps in random places when he's hungover (you once went to the bathroom and found him asleep in the tub with a bottle of tequila in his hand)

● has gotten you guys multiple noise complaints to the landlord from your neighbors

● though he makes up for it by cooking you incredible food (plus reservations whenever you want to the restaurant he works at)

● and makes sure the apartment is always cleaned after his parties

Zoro -

● the roommate that tells you nothing about themself

● does he have a job? No clue but his part of the bills are always paid

● does he have family? Not that he's ever talked about

● does he even have any friends? Again Not that's he's ever mentioned

● the only thing you know about him is that he has a very impressive wine collection

Usopp -

● the roommate who doesn't know how to adult

● has never done laundry in his life

● leaves dirty dishes everywhere

● plays video games instead of sleep even though he has work in the morning

● has a new job every 3 months cause he just didn't vibe with any of them

● but he's friendly and makes you laugh with his stories so that's something

Shanks -

● the perfect roommate

● has a well paying and steady job

● always has his part of the bills paid on time

● never eats your food and remembers your birthday every year

● welcomes you into his friend group and often invites you to join them when they go out

● doesn't make too much noise and is all around super respectful of your belongings

Buggy -

● the most unhinged roommate

● you will come home and he's completely rearranged the furniture because he was bored

● he starts projects and never finishes them

● stole all the passwords to your streaming services

● calls himself an entrepreneur but really he's just a part of multiple mlm schemes

● always asking to borrow money but never pays it back

Mihawk -

● the roommate you never see

● he goes to work and as soon as he comes home he goes to his room and doesn't come back out until he has to go to work again

● the only real conversation you've had with him is when you moved in and he told you everything that was his that you aren't allowed to touch

[aaizawashouta]

Heatin' Up

pairing: frat!kiba x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: kiba and his famous beer pong partner finally do the dirty. (modern!au)

warnings: smut (18+, minors dni) oral f and m receiving, p in v, cream pie.

a/n: it's me, hi. this was long over due. i love them your honor.

→ Wyd later? 

You could feel the disgust on your face. It never ceases to amaze you how much of a fuckboy he could be. No wonder he was in a frat. What did this make you? His booty call? Ugh, you’re the only one who would ever answer him on such short notice. Your nails tapped against your phone as you contemplated your answer.

→ Party @ the house 

→ Got your fav 

What did he think you are? Some schmuck? As if your favorite drink would be enough to pull you from the comfort of your room. But then you hear the giggling. Your roommates are never quiet, and you know their habits. Especially when you hear Shikamaru’s name dropped. Ino’s been trying to get into his pants for weeks. Sighing, you push your blankets off your lap, knowing you're in a losing situation.

The girls barge into your room, animatedly talking over one another. You get the jist, which you already knew. Sakura eyes you suspiciously when you don’t fight them on coming along. Ino’s already tearing into your closet. You pinch the side of your thigh to keep yourself from freaking out.

“We promise,” Ino says as she coats your lashes in mascara. “We won’t leave your side.”

It’s a lie, it always is. They always abandon you at some point. Not that it matters. Because there is one who always sniffs you out. You couldn’t hide from him even if you wanted to.

→ you comin? 

I’ll be there! Find me xoxo ←

It was a new world record. You’d lost sight of your roommates the moment you walked in. Not all that bummed about it, you headed to the kitchen. You had been promised your favorite drink. Gaara and Kankuro are stationed in the kitchen. Their only job is to make sure that the drinks stay clean. A shutter rushes over you as you think about how the house had been your freshman year. A hand rubs at your forearm, the pink and shiny scar a reminder of the hell that broke out that night. Grabbing your drink, Gaara pops the cap off for you, smiling as you take a much needed drink. The latter gives you a wink accompanied by a smirk. You flash them a smile before braving the rest of the party.

You hear him before you see him. Laughter and sharp words greet you when you step out into the backyard. There’s a bonfire, most of your friend group sits around it. Naruto and Kiba are bickering, both hotheaded and passionate about their beliefs. You can’t make out what it is exactly they're arguing about, you just hope it isn’t something stupid. Taking another swig of your drink, eyes cast down to watch your steps, a large hand wraps around your arm. You glance up to see Kiba. His large frame blocking out the light from the fire, but his grin still lights up his face. 

“There she is,”

“I told you I was coming.”

“Thought you got lost when your dumbass friends walked out here without you.”

Well, he’s not wrong is he? He had some faith in you, though, given he didn’t come hunt you down himself. But now that he has you, he isn’t letting you go. Time moves quickly whenever you’re with Kiba. One drink turns into two, and two into three. 

“Hey, the pong table is open!”

You yelp when you're yanked from your seat, tripping over your own feet as you're dragged back into the house. “Game face on, baby. We got a table to dominate.”

It’s never been like this intense before. Sweat drips down your neck. You’ve stripped down every layer while still remaining decent. Not everybody at this party needs to see you in your undies. Goosebumps breakout on your skin when a deep sigh comes from behind you. Nerves? Not a thing. Anxiety never seems to dig its claws in you. The only thing that ever sets you off is the impatient man behind you breathing down your neck.

This is the last shot of the game. The make or break of your winning sweep. You and Kiba always dominate the pong table, but tonight is something special. Or it could be. If only he’d take a step back and let you fucking breathe.

Slowly you turn, head tilting to clash gazes with familiar amusement. His brows shoot up into his headband, actually your headband – it’s your favorite color. He’s shirtless, when the hell did that happen? Probably started stripping down when you did. Jeans hanging low on his hips, the band of his underwear playing with the dark hair of his happy trail. His sneakers are toe to toe with your bare feet. It’s almost like a superstition. Or maybe because playing beer pong in high heels isn’t a smart idea. For you, anyway.

“Are you going to throw?”

“Are you going to let me breathe?”

His grin takes on a wolfish form as he steps into your space. Always by your side, never more than an arms length away. If anyone knows how to push your buttons it’s Kiba. If there’s anyone who isn’t afraid of pushing your buttons, it’s Kiba. You’ve been giving him a lot of slack lately. No pushback for all the bullshit he throws your way. Your lips purse, lifting your foot you step on the toes of his shoes.

“Bro, what the fuck.”

“Back away, Inuzuka. Wouldn’t want to scuff up those kicks.”

Your lips twitch when he huffs out a humorless laugh. As if he’s surprised by your audacity. Kiba takes a step back, his jaw clenching when you refuse to pick up your foot. Yeah, the fucking audacity.

“You’re mean.”

“You’re messing up my game.”

“Are you even playing anymore?”

You look behind you with a sneer on your face. Naruto and Lee stand there – Lee literally vibrating from all the energy drinks he’s had. Naruto rolls his shoulders, pinning you and Kiba with a bored look.

“Why? Want me to kick your ass that bad, huh?”

The group watching laughs, causing you to smile. Naruto gives you the bird before pouting. Another swig of your drink down and your shoulders loosen. Warm hands land on your waist, lips brushing against your ear.

“Nothing but water, baby.”

 “This is the winning shot, what do I get if I make it?”

There isn’t a doubt you’ll make it. You’re gloating now. A wide grin eating up your face as you roll the ball through your fingers.

“When’d you turn into a scammer? That’s easy fucking money. Everyone here knows you’ll make the shot.”

“What are you willing to hand over, Kiba?”

He’s silent, debating. You quirk an eyebrow as you stare up at him over your shoulder, intrigued by the wheels turning in his head. He sighs, fingers digging into your sides. “Throw the damn ball.”

You can’t help but snort. It’s not rocket science, beer pong. It’s technique, all in the wrist. But don’t tell any of the meatheads that. God forbid you figured out how to beat the frat bros at their own game. Which you do every time you play. Taking a deep breath you position yourself, aiming. The hoots and hollers quiet down as you look from the red solo cup to Kiba. He’s beaming; smirk showing off a sharp fang. Slightly threatening, but boyish all the same. It’s a clean shot – you sink it without even looking.

The pride that flares in Kiba’s eyes sends heat through you. There isn’t a moment to think about it before he’s rushing you. In an instant you’re off your feet, a screech leaving you as you hastily wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Hell yeah, that’s my girl.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek to hold back your whimper. This isn’t the first time he’s said something like that. How easily he calls you pet names and claims you as his. He’s known you since you were a gap toothed little kid with knobby knees. The only one mean enough to put Kiba in his place when his mouth got away from him.

“Ki, you’re making me dizzy.”

He grumbles but lets you down. Not bothering to move away his chest brushing against your back with every breath. Not like you mind. You’ve never been one to shy away from Kiba. He invades your space, your mind, your dreams. 

“It’s not fair.” Naruto complains, downing another cup of cheap beer. “I want her as my partner in the next game.”

Kiba’s grip on your waist tightens when he looks over your shoulder towards the blond. “Over my dead fucking body. She’s mine.”

Snickering from beside you catches your attention. Ino and Sakura sit with their drinks trying to hide their smug looks. Oh yeah, you’ll never hear the end of it. They’ve been trying to set you and Kiba up for a while now. You don’t ever encourage their meddling, but you don’t put a stop to it either. Because there is a big part of you that wonders. It’s your little secret if the part that wonders happens late at night with your fingers buried deep between your legs. No one has to know. 

“What the fuck are you snickering for? Not like anyone wants you.”

The drink you’re holding gets slammed down on the table. Kiba pulls you into him as you choke on the liquid. You’re trying to breathe, but your laughter keeps bubbling up, making it hard. Large palms run up and down your spine, a soothing gesture. Finally gulping in some air you flash Kiba an appreciative smile.

He’s got a look in his eye, one you’ve never seen before. Goosebumps erupt across your skin. His gaze takes you in from head to toe; it’s predatory, wild. The hand he used to sooth you is now gripping the back of your neck. Kiba pulls you close, head tilted down, nose brushing against your own. You’ve got to fight to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. Warm breath ghosts over your parted lips, waiting. You nod, barely visible, but Kiba catches it. Warm lips meet yours. Firm against your own, but not demanding. He’s holding back, not wanting to put on a show. You gasp when his tongue lightly brushes against your bottom lip, and then he’s gone. Pulling away, leaving you only a small taste.

Clearing your throat you pick up your discarded items. “I need to pee.”

“Sure, babe. Let’s go.”

A huff leaves your lips as you follow after him. His large frame breaks through the sea of people, keeping you from getting knocked around. It gets a beat quieter when you hit the stairs. Less people, less chatter. Kiba bangs on the bathroom door, giving no time before ripping it open. Covering your mouth so the embarrassed couple doesn’t see you laughing. The poor girl has no time to adjust her skirt before Kiba is manhandling them out of the way. 

“Do your business.”

You wait a beat. “Get out.”

“Babe,”

“Kiba! I’m not peeing with you in here!”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

That makes your temper flare. “Don’t compare me to your one night stands. You’ve only seen me naked in your dreams, but even that is lacking.”

In a blink of an eye he’s got you shoved against the counter. Hand wrapped around your throat, lips brushing over yours as he speaks. “Only because you won’t give it up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You know me better than anybody. But sometimes, you’re so fucking blind it pisses me off.”

“I swear to god, Kiba, if you think you’re going to fuck me in this bathroom–” Your mouth snaps shut. You don’t even want to entertain that thought. But Kiba is grinning now, big and brilliant. A cat that got the cream. Makes you want to smack him.

“I knew it.” He whispers. “I knew you wanted me. Bet you touch that sweet pussy thinking of me, don’tcha sweetheart?”

No, absolutely not. You aren’t doing this. You manage to shove him away, a glare settling over your pretty features. You slam the bathroom door open ready to leave. You never really had to pee, you just needed a breather. Now here you are; stressed out and getting hornier by the second. But the chance to leave never comes. You never step out of the bathroom. Kiba takes this into his own hands –quite literally– and picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Fuck you, Inuzuka. Put me down!”

“Yeah, baby. That’s the plan.”

You can’t fight him. Can’t ignore the heat that spreads through you. Your thighs would be rubbing together if Kiba didn’t have a mean grip on them. So you hang there, blood rushing to your head as he enters his room. He tosses you on the bed, standing there staring at you with a hungry, desperate gaze while you get your bearings. 

Grabbing your ankle Kiba drags you down the bed, smacking your thigh to get your attention. “Let’s go, baby girl. On your knees.”

“What?”

Kiba raises a brow. “On. Your. Knees.”

“You want me on my knees for you? You first.”

Hands grab at you, hastily undoing your pants before tugging them along with the black thong you wore down your legs. Kiba never takes his eyes off you as he tosses the clothes over his shoulder. His fingers tangle with yours, dragging your hand down your body, drawing your fingers up and down the seam between your legs, a sign you take to spread them. He doesn’t have to give you any more direction. Eagerly you dip a finger in, building up a pace before adding another. Placing one hand on a bare thigh, he holds you open, pushing his shoulders in between to get closer to you. A satisfied groan leaves you when he kisses your thigh. His teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh, a laugh rumbling in his chest when he notices your hand moving faster and faster the closer he gets to your core.

“Kiba,” you’re begging. Needy, and desperate. 

His hand moves, expert fingers toying with your pert nipples. Back arching with each tug and twist. You’re mumbling–bite, bite, bite. With your own hand busy between your legs, Kiba pushes up on his elbows, licking a trail between the valley of your breasts before sucking one in his mouth. You whimper, hand now tangled in his hair, holding him tight as you push your tit into his mouth. He rolls it in his mouth, tongue flicking at it before sucking. Eyes wide, pupils blown out as he watches you teeter closer to the edge.

His hand trails down your stomach, fingers tracing over yours. A grunt escapes him when he realizes you’ve stopped moving it. He tsks at you, pulling himself away from your chest. “Don’t stop,” he commands, his hand gripping your now stilled hand and forcing your fingers back inside. No longer two deep, but three. He wants you stretched out and ready for him. He keeps his hand over yours, controlling the pace. ‘Come on sweetheart – fuck, like that.”

He watches you for a moment, before lowering himself back down. You jolt at the flat of his tongue running over your nipple. A low groan parting your lips when his teeth finally latch on to it. You’ve always been a sucker for pain. Especially with your nipples being as sensitive as they are. He could make you come just by playing with them alone. Dragging his teeth over the tender flesh, he flicks his tongue over it. How fast can he make you come like this? Applying more pressure to the hand between your legs, it's a race between your fingers and his tongue. 

“Kiba, fuck.” 

Your legs are trembling around him, your weight shifting back onto your toes. Chasing, chasing… Kiba bites down on your nipple, hard. You scream as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. You look so fucking pretty when your like this, basking in your orgasm glow.

Knowing that your legs are anything but steady, you roll off the bed, landing on all fours before crawling over to sit on your haunches before him. You look up at him expectantly, waiting for your next order. He smiles down at you. Hand cupping your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone, finding its way down to your bottom lip. He pulls on the tender flesh, watching as your lips part and your tongue automatically comes out. Waiting, hungry.

“Are you going to be nice?” You whine, scooting forward, wanting nothing more than the feel of his heavy cock on your tongue. “Good girl, baby. Take the whole thing.”

Both hands tangle in your hair. He doesn’t move an inch, letting you come to him. Your eyes prick with tears as he makes his way in. You love the stretch, no matter where it is. Slowly, slowly, you make until you're suffocating with his cock down your throat and your nose in his dark hair. 

“That’s it — fuck, stay right there.”

His thighs twitch when you hum around him. Your mouth is so soft and warm, he could come right now if he really wanted to. But that’s not what he wants, not what you want. All of this is just foreplay. Because nothing will compare to when he’s got his cock in you and you’re begging him to fill you up, to use you. He’s been dreaming of that for years. His eyes roam all over you as he steadies his breathing, taking in the lewd scene that’s all you. 

“You’re a goddamn daydream. You know that?”

Hand pushing on your head, you gag around him before quickly being pulled away. You brace yourself, letting him use your face for his pleasure. Tears stream down your cheeks, making your eyes sparkle. Cheeks hallowed, lips suctioning around him until he can’t take it anymore. Pulling himself out of your mouth, Kiba reaches down and wraps you up in arms only to turn and toss you on the bed. You’re pussy clenches around nothing when you see the feral look in his eyes. He’s grinning down at you, but it isn’t nice. He’s going to devour you whole. Crack open your ribs and feast on everything that you are, everything you have to offer. When he’s had his fill and he’s done, you’ll do nothing but say thank you. 

“Spread those legs. I want that cunt.”

It’s your favorite part, when he first enters you. That first stretch, the feel of his cock making its way into you. He doesn’t know it yet, but you need to feel how much it hurts. Maybe your as fucking feral as he is. 

He swiftly moves to his knees, a hand slides across your ass, slapping you just hard enough to leave a red handprint behind as he thrust deep, bottoming out. It’s a silent scream, no sound leaving you. He’s big, so big, and he’s filling you up to the brim. It hurts, and you’re loving every inch that stretches you out. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, hard thrust. He slides a hand up your stomach, between your breasts so his hand can wrap it around your throat. He loves watching you come undone around him, and he’ll never forget it either. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers. 

“Babe,” he grits, hand tightening, cutting off a little more air, “you feel so fucking good.”

You stare back at him, feel as he moves to kneel on one knee, the angle shifting somewhere deeper inside of you. His teeth dig into your skin again, this time leaving bruises behind. It makes you whine. He thrusts harder, rougher until your hand is shooting out above your head, keeping you from hitting the headboard. He’s fully claiming you. Cock punching into the deepest part of you. Your head is empty, high in euphoria only Kiba can provide you. Words are pouring out of you, but you couldn’t understand what you were trying to say even if you wanted to. Whatever it is he wants to hear. Whatever keeps him close, keeps him inside of you. You never thought you’d get to be like this. 

“Kiba, I–” you're cut off by a whimper when he reaches that hard to reach spot deep inside you. Over and over again, you feel it coming, your orgasm is going to come crashing down. You’re going to drown in it, and you don’t know if you’ll make it out unscathed.

“You going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Yes!  Please, please, Kiba. Don’t stop. More, more, holy fuck,”

You come on his cock like a tidal wave, and when you collapse against the bed, your body trembles, heaving desperately for air. Kiba groans, pulling you up until you’re flush against him. His lips meet yours in a messy kiss, bucking his hips harder until he’s chasing his high right over the ledge with you. 

“Good girl,” he praises, letting go of your throat. “Such a good girl for me.”

It’s quiet, apart from your labored breathing. Kiba’s thumb runs along your stomach where his hand rests. He’s laying halfway on you, head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. It’s a soft moment, one you don’t wish to break. But this time, you really do need to pee.

“Kiba,” he grumbles, digging deeper into the comfort you provide. “Ki, get up. I have to pee.”

He glances up at you, clearly fighting off a grin. “You gonna kick me out this time?”

“Kiba,” you warn.

“What? Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

“Fucking, hell, Inuzuka.”

He chuckles, lifting his weight off you. He smiles at your glare. Quietly you get dressed. Your hair stacked up on your head in a messy bun. There’s no saving your makeup. You wince at your reflection, seeing your lipstick smeared all over your mouth. Calloused fingers grip your chin, lifting your face so he can mesh his lips with yours.

“You’re a vision, sweetheart.” he murmurs against your lips. “Don’t think this was a one time thing.”

Your head tilts. “Oh yeah? You addicted now?”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ve been addicted to you my whole fucking life.”

“Are you going soft on me?” 

He grins down at you. “Oh, baby. We’re just heatin’ up.”