#he never lets his brain linger for too long

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

#criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[wyvernest]

bright red lust

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!trophy wife! reader

warnings: smut, car limo sex, misogynistic undertones (reader feels good about being a trophy wife), pda, teasing, dryhumping, unprotected sex, creampie, cowgirl

summary: you attend a gala with miguel and tease him until he finally gets you to himself in his limo

translation: "que rico" = 'how nice'

Any woman’s dream is to be his wife. For his rank, his money, his reputation, his everything. And it feels so good to know that he's so desired.

Because you’re at his side, not them. It’s you whom he spends his money on. It’s you whom he buys all the exquisite dresses and gowns for, all the best things you could ever want or need. It’s you whom he makes love to after a tiring day. Or after you wake up. Or anytime, for that matter.

You’re irreplaceable, but at the same time at his disposal. You don’t see it as a price paid but rather as a bonus. You’ve never been pampered so good before, loved so good, fucked so good.

So that’s why, whenever he has a new gala or special event to attend, you let him pick your dress out of all the various selections you spend so much time on finding. 

“Too long.” he dismisses, vision darting from your mauve-satin covered legs to your face. He’s manspreading on the king size bed of your presidential hotel room, hair dishevelled and half lidded eyes sleepy, relaxed. 

“You’re so picky today. I only got a few more!” You giggle with a faux offended expression. Behind the façade of worry that he won’t be satisfied with any of the looks, you secretly love these little fashion runaway sessions, feeling like his own personal top model, trying out different outfits for him. If you weren’t in a hurry, you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to sit on his lap and accidentally grind your ass on his crotch when you got up as part of the little show. 

“Mm.” He hums, seemingly unaffected by your playful frustration. He knows you love it when he acts so pretentious and superior, but he loves you, and he loves the enthusiasm with which you show him everything. “Next, bebita. This one’s sombre.”

After a few minutes and struggles, you manage to pull on the pièce de résistance; a bright, blood-red skin tight satin dress. Miguel’s eyes widen at the sight of you, brows raised in silent approval and admiration. The length isn’t a problem this time, your beautiful legs and thighs peeking out with every step through the long slit on the right. The fabric is wrapped so deliciously around your breasts, slightly pushing them up together, plump and tantalising. 

"Maybe this one's a bit too much? I-"

"Do a 360." His eyes lit up, attentive and pleased. You twirl, making sure to slightly stick your ass out, checking yourself out in a full body mirror nearby.

"Me gusta." He gets up from the bed, gripping your waist to place a needy kiss on your cheek, before placing his lips on your own. You take his face in your hands, melting into his embrace. “This is the one.” His deep, low whisper sends shivers up your spine, your brain short circuiting. Who are you to say no to him? To those pretty, dark brown, red-tinted eyes?

"I'm gonna go get ready now. Thank you, papi." You turn around, yelping as he doesn't miss the opportunity to smack your ass as you do, smirking to himself.

When you finally arrive at the gala, you get out of your limo and start flaunting your exquisite dress, proud and flashing. You feel Miguel instantly cling to you, a secure, strong hand on your waist, its touch fervent and possessive. 

He doesn’t fail to notice all the other spiders gawk at you, turning their heads too sharply just to catch a glimpse of his beautiful wife. All the lingering looks, the whispered words of admiration, all for you. The hand on the dip of your waist tenses, both in immeasurable pride and a hint of stinging jealousy. But it felt amazing. 

All the comments, the remarks.

“Can’t believe he pulled such a pretty thing.”

“Imagine coming home at the end of the day to her.”

“Maybe being the leader of Spider-Society has its perks.”

They thought he wouldn’t ever hear them, but his enhanced senses have little to no limits. He feels his pants slightly tighten at the thought that so many other men want you. And yet, it’s his cock that you beg for, late at night. 

And you’re aware of this weakness of his. You know that showing everyone that you’re his gets him hard in no time. And as the brat you are, you can’t help it. Especially not when all eyes are on you two. Not when the paparazzi’s come in.

You run a cursory hand from his chest to his abdomen, arching your back, pretty figure on display for the pictures. Bolder. Your hand finds his cheek, his jaw, your eyes never leaving him. You enjoy feeling like an accessory, something that accentuates him, his masculinity. Something that belongs to him.

No other man has ever made you feel this way.

You gesture to him to lean down, your heels still not enough for you to be able to reach his face without his aid. He does, and you place a tantalising peck on his cheek, light enough so that your bright lipstick doesn’t transfer. 

Feeling him stiffen, unsure of your teasing, you decide to risk it and lean your face down to the crook of his neck. 

Hundreds of photographs flash as you kiss his neck, your soft lips lingering just a second too late, only for a red print to remain plastered on his skin, for everyone to see. 

He turns to you with an expression worth a thousand words. You know that face all too well. 

As soon as you get back in the limo following the after-party, you wave good-bye to all your acquaintances and friends. The driver takes a turn and exits the flash-lit area. 

Turning to look at Miguel, any conversation or small talk on the event you just attended gets smushed into a heated kiss you both longed for, his hands on your hips, pulling you into him on the back seat, your arms thrown over his shoulders.

When he grabs your thigh, you waste no time in lifting your leg over his waist, straddling him without breaking away from the kiss.

His warm hands slide underneath the red satin, grabbing at the globes of your ass greedily. You start grinding on him, your damp panties rubbing onto his erection in his pants.

Your breasts nearly pop out of your dress during the hazy make out session, and he parts from your lips to start kissing down your neck, stealing a glance down at them. Throwing your head back, your body turns into putty in his strong arms. He licks and kisses at the delicate skin of the tops of your tits, slowly and reflexively grinding up into your heat.

You moan his name, your breathing getting heavy.

He knows that having you in risky places only makes you even wetter for him, and he can't get enough.

"Ah! Oh- Miguel!" You whimper as a heavy hand smacks your ass, making you jerk forward into him, your tender body smushed against him so perfectly.

"Here? Are you sur-"

"Here, yes." Hot, shallow breaths fan your neck as he speaks in between kisses and gentle bites. "Can't wait any longer."

Your hands fumble with his belt and he quickly rips your panties at the seam, making a hole over your slit. Panting and rushing, you pull his hard, meaty cock out and align it with your dripping cunt. You feel him slip into you, nice and slow, filling you up with the familiar euphoria you have craved so ardently for the whole night.

He groans as he enters you, wet, warm and tight. Just when you were getting adjusted to his size, the limo goes over a speed bump and his cock thrusts up into you with the turbulence, its bulbous tip kissing your cervix.

You feel him deep in your guts, and as you begin riding him, he starts to buck his hips up into you, making you see stars.

"Que rico", he pants out, whispered, "having a pretty thing like you all over me." He

Keeping the thrusts quick and shallow, so as not to make your shenanigans too obvious, you bounce yourself on his cock; at first for his pleasure alone. Seeing him drowned in ecstasy will eventually being you your own pleasure as well.

All until he brings a hand to your swollen clit, rubbing furiously, throwing you over the edge in mere seconds. You come all over his dick, eyes rolling back, his name falling off you tongue in a strangled moan, sweet music to his ears.

He feels your pussy pulsate oh so deliciously around his cock, and it doesn't take him much longer to also release his load in your velvet walls, painting your insides white, claiming you as his.

As soon as he comes down, catching his breath, he smothers you with another fierce kiss, groaning into your mouth as you stir with his still sensitive cock inside you.

"We should do this again sometime, Mr. O'Hara." You tease, your lips straying away to nibble at his pulse point.

"Oh, we will, bebita."

divider by @cafekitsune as always

a/n: finally wrote this 7 mesozoic eras after it was requested sorry man

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #spider verse

[rootbeerworshiper]

hands on learning

virgin!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: finding out new information about your best friend has made you realize he has lots left to learn, and you’re more than willing to offer a helping hand.

warnings: smut!! fem!recieving, riding, overstimulation, slight orgasam denial, fingering, unprotected sex, slight corruption kink

a/n: i feel like i disappeared from writing on my page for a while because i’ve been helping with so many other accounts butttt i hope this makes up for my absence

dedicated to my love @luv4kozume

4.5k words

love, sienna <3

“there’s no way” you gawk, sitting up in bed next to your best friend who’s beneath you with a sure expression plastered on his face. “there has to have been a girl from highschool or something”

his cheeks flush a light shade of pink, his body making it clear just how embarrassed he really is. “i’m serious” he says, shrugging as he sits up to be eye level with you.

you think for a second, silence filling the air surrounding you. “what about Alexis? you had a thing with her for a while didn’t you?”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back into the headboard as his legs shift slightly to get more comfortable. “you’re never gonna let this go are you?”

you scoff, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you look to him. “you’re telling me, Matt Sturniolo, my best friend, is a virgin?”

he nods, causally as if this is the most normal information you could possibly gather—it’s far from that. “but you’re like…. hot” you say.

he chuckles slightly, shaking his head as it dips below his neckline, once again flustered. “i don’t think being ‘hot’ has anything to do with it” he mumbles under his breath.

your eyebrows furrow together, the pieces in your brain attempting to form a complete puzzle. “is that not exactly what it has to do with? like you could pull easy”

“what makes you say that?” he asks, a new sense of seriousness backing his tone as his eyes glimmer in your direction, causing a slight pit in your stomach.

you and Matt have always had a complicated friendship. the two of you technically dated back in freshman year of highschool but neither of you count it, instead staying steady in your friendship. but you can’t deny the tension that’s remained since, no matter how badly you wanted it to go away it was inevitable.

hearing the information of him being a virgin though? completely mind boggling to you.

you’ve thought about him in that position more times than you can’t count, part of you always wishing to see him that way, all flustered and sensitive under your touch. so new to any pleasure that you can provide to him.

but you had assumed a long time ago you lost your chance to witness that, to watch the innocence leave his body.

sex had never been a huge topic of discussion in your friendship, but usually with the two of you nothing was off limits, so you find it hard to believe he’s lying about this innocence instilled in him.

“don’t play dumb, even you know you’re attractive” you breath out, slightly annoyed at his need for you to spell it all out for him, it’s making you feel more desperate than you’d like. “you know how to talk too, i’ve seen the way you joke around with me, there’s no way you don’t have girls falling on their knees to get with you”

he seems to speak before his mind can even comprehend the words escaping his lips. “i’m only like that with you” his mouth cuts himself off, lips shutting before more words leave.

“only like what? you only flirt with me?” you ask, taunting him slightly as you use this new found sense of power to boost your self esteem.

his nails make their way to the back of his neck, trying desperately to scratch away the humiliation lingering. “well… i guess? i just feel comfortable around you or whatever, this doesn’t have to become a thing”

a new idea sets it self comfortably in your head, your salivary glands leaking to create a pool in your mouth as your imagination takes off. “have you thought about having sex with me?” he coughs, caught off guard at your sudden boldness. “you know, you’re so comfortable around me, what have you pictured me doing?”

the boy reverts his attention to avoid you, the topic causing a new restlessness in his small actions, only further intriguing you. “i think you’ve lost your mind” he lets out a breathy laugh as if to ease the tension you’ve created, but you want the tension to remain more than anything.

“i’ve thought about you” you say simply, earning a quick turn of the head followed by a shocked expression on his face.

he swallows, his eyes flickering around you as he tries to search for a hint of some form of a joke, a cruel lie maybe. but he can’t find anything. “now you’re being ridiculous”

you avoid the slight tang of hurt that attempts to infiltrate your chest, because part of you wants this more than you’re sure he does. “i’m dead serious. i’ll help you”

his eyebrows feather together, but he can’t kind the hope that fills his light blue irises, the desire for you is simply inescapable. “help me have sex?”

your lips spread to a smile. “sure. as your best friend i can’t let you be bad at sex with some girl you really like, so i’ll make sure you’re good”

the plan was simple, transactional even. you teach him how to give and receive pleasure and in return he won’t have an awkward actual first time with some innocent unsuspecting girl.

silence clouds the air in his bedroom for a moment, it’s as if you can see every thought in his brain as he mentally weighs his options.

as much as you maybe shouldn’t, your eye-line focuses on hands that twiddle together aimlessly, the mere size of them being enough to interest you—let alone the veins that coat the back of them.

it’s impossible to not let your mind wander a bit. he’s your best friend, maybe it’s not normal to be imagining him in such revealing positions but it seems as if it’s a thought your subconscious is more than okay with crafting.

“and we stay friends after this?” he asks the question that you’ve been asking yourself, the question that’s been torturing you.

you’re already in love with Matt’s personality, with his goofiness and sarcastic humour. you love him to death as it is—but it’s hard to imagine what being intimate with him will do to your psyche. “we stay friends, no strings attached”

the brunette thinks for a moment longer, ultimately coming to a conclusion. “okay, deal. but what’s in it for you?” he asks, a shot of anxiousness shooting through your stomach.

what’s in it for you? besides having sex with your best friend? not a lot.

“it’ll help me sleep at night knowing you’re not making girls fake their orgasams” you smile smugly, selling that faux answer as the truth. “we don’t have to you know, no pressure”

he almost jumps out of his position on the comforter, terrified that he’ll lose the opportunity to do what’s consumed his head for years. “no i want to, i do”

you almost let out a laugh at his newfound willingness but you fight the urge, instead shifting your body on top of his, straddling his lap before he has a chance to get another word in.

he looks up at you, his beady, unexplored eyes only making the tension between your legs grow impossibly more needy.

your arms find solitude on his shoulders, the back of your wrists resting gently as his own hands remain stagnant on his sides.

“what have you done?” you ask, fingers gently grazing the skin on the sides of his neck. “just so i know what we need to work on” also because you’re incredibly curious to know every detail.

he sniffles, eyes looking everywhere but your own as you stare down at him. “um just with Alexis i used my uh hands or whatever” his eyes look at you now and it takes everything in you to not become a puddle on his lap.

“so you fingered her?” your voice is different now, quieter but more focused on the musicality of your words, praying mentally that they flow right to his spine.

they do. “yeah i guess i did” he coughs out, hands still not being put to good use. this is until your hips roll ever so slightly, just enough to cause his hands to shoot up off the blankets.

“you can touch me you know, i don’t bite” you smile, teasing applying a strong pressure on his lap as you feel him grow beneath you at the friction. his hands trail up your sides delicately, testing the waters. “can i kiss you?” you whisper, feeling the need to ask. sex is one thing, but for whatever reason kissing feels like a bigger step.

he doesn’t reply, for once taking charge and bringing your lips down to his in a hungry surge of energy. the kiss sends currents through every nerve that lies in your lips, the plush closeness could leave you dizzy.

he has now put his hands to use, one ringed hand cupping your jaw while the other rests gently on your lower back. the kiss is nice, it’s a simple exchange that only proves to you that you need more of him. so as your lips move in a rhythm, you can’t fight the urge to grind yourself onto him mid kiss, causing his mouth to break the exchange and open slightly at the sensation.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, because realistically, this experience is for him more than it is for your own selfish benefit.

the boy smiles slightly, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth as if he’s a kid in the candy store who’s allowed to pick any treat he wants. “what do you want from me?” he asks, his fingers moving up and down your back teasingly. “i want you to enjoy this as much as i already know i will”

god you really do love him, it leaves you wondering if you even have anything to teach him. “so…. you fingered that alexis girl.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “did you give her head?” you ask, feeling suddenly exposed for the intrusive question you’re asking.

he shakes his head but doesn’t bother replying with words, instead placing your back onto the bed, allowing him to hover over you. “teach me” his voice is low as he whispers into your ear.

you try your best to speak as he looks down at you “well you should probably start with some foreplay first maybe-“ you start, his lips make contact with your bare neck while his large hands slide up your sides. “maybe that” you gulp.

he seems comfortable with his movements, learning exactly how to make you squirm under him. each kiss he places on your neck has you leaning into him before, somehow you became the desperate one in this dynamic—not that you’re upset by that.

“and then…” his voice is low, quiet as his hands pull up your shirt slightly, looking into your eyes for an agreement.

you give a reassuring nod, eager for his movement to hurry up. but of course, he takes his time, slowly lifting the fabric above your chest while his mouth leaves marks on your neck.

your arms lift up subconsciously, earning a laugh from Matt as he complies, lifting the fabric completely over your head and tossing it gently to the side of his bed. he practically drools at the sight of you under him, licking his lips as he takes in the view—he could definitely get used to this.

after a moment you become impatient, pulling him down by his cheeks to plant another kiss on your lips, which he does willingly, his hands falling on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

it’s short lived when he pulls back. “i’m here to learn how to make you feel good yeah?” he asks, earning a nod in confirmation from you. “well i’d really like to get to that part if you don’t mind” he laughs slightly.

you smile in response. “i just really like kissing you i guess” it’s embarrassing to admit but at this point you’re past that.

“trust me” he leans in to kiss you one more time, his hands now being placed on your chest, fingers running slightly over your clothed nipples. “i do too”

it’s hard to not let things like that get to your head, constantly trying to remind yourself that this is just sex, you’re going to use each other for pleasure and then everything will go back to normal.

you feel hands travelling behind your back, unclasping your bra before you’re even able to sit up and help. that should not have been as hot as it was.

he slips the straps off your arms, fully taking in the new mesmerizing sight in front of him. it would be impossible for him to avoid staring, he’s seen so much of you over the years but this was his favourite yet. “you’re so beautiful” he shakes his head slightly. “you’re always beautiful, you’re just really hot right now”

as much as you really are flattered, you’re also so incredibly desperate. “Matt please touch me” you beg, pulling him down by his shirt.

“yes ma’am” his head dips down to your chest, his soft lips immediately latching onto your perked up nipple while his hands have their fun exploring your body.

it’s like he’s been waiting for this forever, fingers trailing up and down your body as he takes his time on each bud, making a point to leave a few marks on your chest.

he could be at your chest forever, this was something he’s thought about more than he’d like to admit, but he’s also thought about making you feel good, hearing you scream his name over and over. it’s safe to say he’s determined.

as his mouth continues to have fun with your chest, his hand trails up your leg, this time cupping you and placing a pressure on your clothes clit with his palm. you practically jolt forward at the unexpected contact, looking down to see a small smirk on the boy who now placing teasing kisses on your tense stomach.

his fingers start by rubbing slow, small pressurized circles on your throbbing bud, his other hand running its fingers through your hair. he really can’t help but stare, the whole thing still feels like some wet dream.

you feel a small tugging at the waistband of your pants. “can i?” the boy asks, his hair falling over his eyes slightly as he looks to you for permission. you just nod quickly, lifting your hips to allow him the space needed to pull down the fabric, him making it a point to pull down your underwear as well—to say he’s inpatient would be an understatement.

when you feel the fabric get pulled off your ankles you can’t help but keep your thighs together, it suddenly feels very real. Matt notices the sudden hesitation, running his hands from your shins, up your thighs, until both his hands are placed on your waist. “we can stop you know, i can pretend this never happened” he lies, attempting to make you feel better.

“i want this” you start, trying to figure out how to word what you’re about to say. “i just don’t know if i’ll be able to forget this happened. i already wanna do it again and we’ve barely done anything”

what you don’t know is that that sentence of yours is like music to his ears. “good” he dips his head back down to be eye level with your own, his forehead resting on you. “i’ve been wanting to do this forever” his hands come up slightly on your legs, placing a gentle pressure on your knees as he pushes your legs apart.

a shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands trail down to your inner thighs, his focus is much more clear now to say the least. “i can’t believe i get to see you like this” he shifts back down, his lips creating a slight suction on your lower stomach as he continues kissing you.

you try your best to stay still, the teasing nature of his actions making that task near impossible. “are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you spit out, eyes trained on Matt who’s taking his sweet time placing delicate kisses on your inner thighs.

he chuckles softly, clearing having his ego stroked at your praise. “i’m sure” his hands make way to your legs again, lifting them over his shoulders leaving your knees slung over. “tell me what to do”

“um usually you have to get it wet first, using your spit or something” you mutter out, already far gone at the mere thought of what’s to come.

Matt obliges to your advice, letting saliva fall from his mouth onto your throbbing sensitivity, taking a moment to watch as it slides down slowly before speaking again. “and then?”

it’s an uncomfortable thing to just…explain, but as his teacher you’re sort of obligated to. “you could start by kissing it a bit uh”

his lips make an immediate contact with your glistening clit, placing a few soft, open-mouthed kisses over the needy bud. the slowness is torture and you put up quite a fight in order to keep still. “like that?” he asks, his voice raspy now as his hands place a soothing pressure on your hips.

you nod, your hair falling over your face slightly. “you can just try and i’ll tell you if it’s bad”

he laughs a little at your need to receive pleasure, but ultimately agrees. “you have to tell me though” he places another small kiss to your inner thigh. “i wouldn’t wanna be giving out any ‘fake’ orgasams”

it’s clear he’s just teasing but you can already tell that nothing about tonight will be faked.

he starts with his tongue, testing the waters as he licks up and down your folds to gather up the wetness he’s caused, and he studies your every movement. he looks up to focus on how your body reacts to every flick of his tongue on your clit, taking mental notes on how to get you to enjoy it the most.

his melodic movements on your core have you bucking your hips forward to increase the pressure of his pink muscle. “just like that, so good” you moan out.

he smiles onto you, continuing his pace while taking turns between sucking and flicking his tongue, both options have you drenched. you try you best to keep your eyes focused on the messy brown hair that covers you but almost every movement of his fast tongue make you want to throw your head back.

the sounds leaving your mouth are exactly what he’s chasing, the whines you’re letting out only work to make him move faster against you. it takes you a moment to remember that this is a lesson, and you haven’t taught the boy much. “you can- fuck” you moan again. “you can add fingers”

he places one more kiss to your clit before coming back up to meet your eyes with his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks innocently.

you smile, wiping his lip slightly before agreeing and placing his mouth onto yours. it’s safe to say you’re both addicted to the newfound intimacy.

this exchange lasts slightly longer than the last few, you’re tongues gliding alongside one another comfortably. Matt now brings his hand back to your soaked core, catching you off guard as you moan into his mouth.

his fingers toy mindlessly with your clit while he kisses you, and you try your best to return the favour but it’s near impossible to keep your mouth closed. before you can even begin to think straight he inserts a finger into you, slowly curling up as you arch your back onto the mattress. “yeah you like that?” he questions, pulling off of your mouth but keeping his gaze focused on your face.

every twitch in your eyebrows and opening of your saliva covered lips has him eager to see more, to see what else he’s capable of making you feel. he picks up the pace slightly, shifting his body back down yet again as he slips in another finger.

you practically jolt up at the sudden fullness of a second length. as amazing as this is, you have little time to savour it before you feel a familiar tongue on your slit of ecstasy, working faster now than before.

it doesn’t take much of this to have you gripping the sheets and trying to shut your legs over the shaggy brown hair, but he doesn’t let up once, using his elbows to forcibly keep you spread for him. “Matt you’re so good”

your hips can’t help but grind onto his tongue as his fingers repeatedly make contact with your sweet spot. “i’m so” you throw your head back but he pulls his tongue away before you can finish your sentence.

“look at me when i make you feel good yeah?” his fingers continuing pumping in and out at a pace that leaves you speechless, so instead you nod, trying your best to follow directions from the person you were meant to be directing.

it doesn’t take much longer for the sensation in your stomach to build up, your legs shutting over his hand while his fingers relentlessly pump into you. you’re speechless for a moment, a rhythm of moans leaving your saturated lips as he works you through your orgasam.

it’s almost impossible to look at him but you try, most because it still doesn’t feel real that he’s the one causing you this pleasure. he pulls his fingers out before you get overstimulated, licking off his fingers before placing one more kiss to your incredibly sensitive clit, causing you to jolt forward slightly.

when he brings his body back up to meet his eyes to your own you can’t help but ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind. “how are you so good at this?”

he breaths out a laugh, bringing his hands to your sides again. “i guess i’ve been wanting to do it for a while”

you kiss him, because you can now. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in further, his body pressed against your own. you can’t help but feel the imprint on his pants place a gentle pressure on your core as he bites gently on your bottom lip. so you pull off. “it’s your turn to feel good yeah?”

he just nods, as if he wasn’t expecting you to return the favour so eagerly. you smile softly, flipping him over and wasting zero time reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

you brush over his messy hair that begins to cover his eyes, legs straddling his lap as you lean into him. “you’re so pretty like this” you whisper in his ear, running one hand down his exposed stomach while you place teasing kisses to his jaw.

it’s now obvious how inexperienced he really is based on his sensitivity to the touch you’re inflicting on his bare skin. you reach down further, his clothed dick filling your hand causing him to let out a small whimper.

you’re already impatient, fingers threatening to pull down the waistband of his pants. “can i?” you ask, mouth still incredibly close to his ear causing chills on his arms.

“please” he whines, a sound you’d really like to get used to.

you pull down the elastic band of his pants, along with his boxers, granting you full access. “tell me if anything i do isn’t okay, yeah? this needs to be as good for you as it was for me”

he nods again, your fingers placing a delicate touch to the veins that outline his length causing his to hiss. “can you use words please?” you ask, a smirk on your face at the control you know you have.

“yes its okay mmh” he moans out, your body shifting down on the bed slightly to place teasing kissing along his sensitivity.

“what do you want baby?” you ask, spit leaving your mouth and tricking down the tip of his dick, he’s a whole lot bigger than you were expecting.

his eyes shut closed, feathery eyebrows furrowing at the sensation of the warm liquid travelling down. “i want- fuck” you’re hand makes contact against, taking it in fully and stroking up and a teasingly slow pace. “i want whatever you’ll give me”

you smile again, lining your face with his as you cross your legs back over him. it would be really easy to sink down on him immediately, but not nearly as fun—instead you grab the base of his length, running the saturated tip through your folds.

you suppress your own moan, focusing on Matt’s pleasure. “you’ve been really good tonight for me” the sensation of his tip on your clit is addictive, you’re impressed he still hasn’t cum. “still wanna be a virgin?”

he shakes his head immediately. “please no”

“please what?” you tease, his tip lined up with your entrance but not daring to go deeper.

his hands make their way to your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin as he forces you down onto him. your hands fall to the bedding beside his head, elbows almost giving out as he thrusts repeatedly into you. “fuck Matt”

he slows for a moment, looking at you with a softness in his eyes. “this is okay right?”

you laugh in reply, rolling your hips onto him slightly, feeling just how well he fills you up. “this is more than okay, keep going please”

he takes that ask seriously, lifting his hips back up into your core as his tips hits your sweet spot.

it takes everything in him not to come right away, the teasing along with the mere feeling of giving you pleasure had already made him close, and now you’re on top of him with your walls closed around him.

he’s close, and you can tell.

“Matt baby you gotta hold it okay? focus on something else” you advise, brushing your thumb across the boys cheek as he bites his lip to suppress his constant moans.

Matt just nods, instead choosing to refocus on you. he reaches his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit again while the pace of his thrusts into you have you weak.

this refocusing on your pleasure has worked in his favour because now you’re close, his fingers toying with your clit while he continues to hit your sweet spot.

god he’s good.

his pace increases more, he’s now unable to hold back anymore, and you let him because you’re in the same position as him. “fuck i love you so much” he moans out.

you’re not sure how to take the sentence, you’re not even together and now he’s spewing out love confessions, but you also don’t disagree with his words, instead choosing to stay silent as your orgasam overtakes any thought you can muster up.

it’s not long before he’s there with you, accidentally releasing before thinking twice about what he’s doing. “fuck fuck sorry i uh-“

you laugh at his immediate fear. “i’m on birth control you’re okay” you reply out of breath, leaning down to kiss him once more for good measure. “i love you too by the way”

a/n: i hate the ending sm but we’re gonna ignore thattttt (please)

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo smut

[itostea]

my first & last love (gojo x reader)

satoru realizes he's in love with you after you suggest he set you up with suguru

tags: fem! reader, Gojo praises you like A LOT! slight miscommunications, childhood friends to lovers, reader gets drunk & satoru helps, he's a lovesick idiot & dramatic, both yours & his pov, gojo’s implied to be taller than reader, slightly suggestive bc it’s gojo, slight angst

word count: 11k

The first time Gojo Satoru learned true, unadulterated jealousy was on a Friday night out in his sports car–the crickets chirping to the melody of a random song. 

It was real jealousy—not just simple, petty envy. Not like the envy he felt when someone got to taste the limited edition cupcakes at the bakery before he did or the envy of studying hard and getting a lower score than someone who didn’t (which is a lie because Gojo was that very person who was effortlessly good at everything he did). 

Either way, he’s never felt the bite of jealousy, breaking the flesh as blood drips slowly, lingering as if it could never be washed away from his skin. Never felt it smother his throat with needles and leave him with a metallic taste in his mouth. That is, until today.

It was colder than usual but he still insisted on grabbing some ice-cream from the local convenience store, declaring it was his your reward for putting up with the party Sukuna hosted–the same party that ended in your dress being soaked in vomit. The atmosphere was perfect for sentiment, for talking–for confessing. 

You’re humming to the beat of the song, licking your lips clean of the ice cream you just ate. “Satoru,” you murmur his name softly, staring at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah?” His eyes drink in the sight of you: your droopy eyes from sleep, the faded lip tint on your lips, the hoodie he let you borrow that’s obviously a few sizes too big on you. There’s hardly any light coming in but he can still feel your eyes on him, the tension so thick he thinks he might suffocate from it. 

For a moment, he’s scared, fearful of what you were going to say because he knows this silence. This is the very silence that happens before someone confesses to him, the same suspense that he has to mentally prepare himself for since he knew he was going to break another heart. And he’s terrified that he might have to do it to you–his friend, his neighbor, someone who he’s known for a very long time. 

“I need to tell you something,” you start and he winces, shifting uncomfortably on the driver’s seat. 

“You do?” He mutters. You’re nervous. He can tell because he’s known you long enough to understand what you’re feeling–long enough to know that your eyes are darting from place to place, a habit of yours.

His chest squeezes when you take a deep breath just as he exhales, already making his mind to grant you a swift rejection. He hopes you can forgive him after this.

“--I like Getou and I need your help.”

“Listen, I’m sorry but I just don’t see you that way–”

He blinks, wondering if he heard you right or if he was drunk (he didn’t drink at the party because he was your ride home). “Wait what?”

It was your turn to blink now. “I like Getou and I–”

“I heard you the first time,” he cuts you off hastily, clearing his throat to play it cool. He runs a hand through his hair, grazing the side of his undercut. “Okay wow.”

Gojo mentally curses himself for not knowing what else to say other than humming pensively, busying himself by mixing the ice-cream in the tiny container. He still needs time to process, to mentally upload your words to his brain. You like Getou and not him? He pauses, repeating that thought again. 

You like Getou and not him. Part of him tells himself that this is exactly what he wanted since your friendship wouldn’t go to ruin. You managed not to catch feelings for him–managed not to fall for him like many others. Yet, he’s confused when another part of him doesn’t respond too well once he realizes that this was you he was dealing with.

“That’s not weird right?” You question, bringing your knees up to your chest and propping your chin atop of them to watch his reaction–reminding him to keep it cool. 

“Nah it’s not weird at all,” he said, not thinking straight when his next words escaped his lips. “So why Suguru?” And not me? Though, he keeps that last part to himself. 

“Well isn’t it obvious? He’s tall, handsome, and has a good personality.”

Am I not that? He asks himself, not bothered by how stuck up he may seem. “That’s not very specific from someone who likes him.”

You huff and he can tell you’re narrowing your eyes at him. “I know you don’t wanna hear me yap about the specifics, Satoru.”

“I do.” He says quickly.

You make a noise of surprise, looking interested in his sudden intrigue. “Well okay… Suguru’s very caring and attentive. Being around him makes me feel warm inside you know? I’m not sure when I started liking him but I just know that I just really want to be closer to him. And it doesn’t help that he’s just so smart and nice. And his looks are just a bonus.”

“Oh,” he utters, not even bothering to curse himself for his lack of response. He tries a weak smile. “You must really like him.”

Gojo can’t help but furrow his brows at the semi-embarrassed expression you wear—as if you were flustered at the mere thought of having a crush. “Oh, was I that obvious?” You ask, not even bothering to deny the fact that you were undoubtedly head over heels for his best friend.

Oh god, he thinks he might be sick and he doesn’t know why. 

“Are you going to help me?” Your voice cuts him out of his reverie and he’s cut back into reality–the reality being the anticipation in your eyes. Did you always look this pretty? 

Gojo nearly flinches at the thoughts that cross his mind, blaming the unprocessed shock for being the cause of these obscure ideas. He coughs. “Hold on. So you don’t like me right?”

“What? No I–” your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh so that’s what that was all about. You thought the person I liked was you! How cocky can you be to think everyone’s in love with you?”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just really lovable y’know?”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “That can’t be true since I’m not everyone.”

I know, he thinks to himself, staying silent as he watches you shuffle in your seat. He didn’t just dislike this idea you proposed, he hated it.  It wasn’t hard to just decline and keep it like that–let you figure your feelings on your own. 

Yet, something about the near-pleading look in your eyes made him reconsider and it filled him with an urge to smooth the wrinkles on your expression. He sighs loudly, rubbing the invisible crease in between his brows. “Well I guess you came to the right person because I’m an expert at this. 5 star ratings and all that. But what makes you think I’m going to do this for free?”

“Uh the goodness of your heart?”

“Cute,” he laughs. “But no. I want a coffee from the place everyday for a month.”

“What?! Are you insane? That means I’d have to wake up early everyday to get in line!” 

He shakes his head, waving his finger around with a disappointed expression. “A small price for love.”

“I don’t understand why you even need me for that. You can buy the whole shop yourself, ass,” you whisper the last part behind your palm, making his eyes light up in amusement.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Actually you know what? Fine,” you huff. “You’re right. It is a small price for love. But I’m not walking back and forth around campus to deliver your coffee.” 

“I got that covered,” he grins, already coming up with a plan in his head. He likes this, the banter you two typically enjoyed. It made your duo, a duo. In a normal situation, he’d relax and continue bothering you. Still, the feeling of dread gnaws at his throat and he tries to swallow it–tries to ignore it by pretending to be the same, goofy Gojo you’re used to. And he’s starting to think it’s hard to do that when you look up at him with such genuine gratitude. 

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, I mean it.”

Gojo feels that emotion again, that visceral feeling where he might go sick and vomit all over the car. “Yeah.”

He thinks he would’ve preferred if you confessed to him instead. 

Gojo wonders if stress (if you can call that) is enough to make someone wake up with a hangover the next day. He didn’t drink last night but he thinks he might have–considering the headache that was interrupting his morning. 

He’s in the middle of downing a glass of water when his phone buzzes, your name popping up as a notification. 

(Name): i’m gonna get ur coffee pls come 

Him: come ??? cum

(Name): it’s too early to be doing this 

He sees the bubbles appear before they disappear for a while, only popping up again when he’s in the middle of cracking an egg over the pan 

(Name): SATORU 

(Name): OHMYGOD SATORY SOI SOS 

Him: WHAT 

Him: HELLO??? 

(Name): GETOUS HERE OMG IM GONNA 

(Name): HE SAID HI TO ME 

(Name): WHAT DO I DO?

Gojo grips his phone a bit tighter, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He sighs.

Him: say hi back 

Him: and then go PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

(Name): no wtf and i meant what do i after this silly 

(Name): i don’t know what to do im literally an npc rn

(Name): jk he just said bye :(

Him: should’ve done what i told u to do

Another name pops up from the top and his eyes scan the name, his brows raising in curiosity. He huffs at the message, feeling a wave of nausea cross him.

Suguru: You’re close friends with (Name) right?

Him: yeah why 

Suguru: Nothing

It’s silent for a few seconds and Gojo’s back to eating his eggs, tempted to pop a Tylenol to ease the growing headache. Contrary to popular belief, he was against the reliance of pain-relieving meds, opting to let his body figure things out on its own. Luckily for him, having food in his stomach was enough to relieve the headache.

His mind wanders back to the night in the car where you told him to help you with your crush on his best friend–not fully coming to terms with the fact that he wished you liked him instead. Since when did he start feeling this way and why did he need another man to make him realize he liked or even loved you? The thought of anyone having you for themselves was like hearing the sound of nails against a chalkboard and he was jealous. He finally admitted it. 

Gojo Satoru wasn’t an idiot when it came to his feelings and he’d be a fool if he kept denying his undeniable irritation that came with your crush for Suguru. He places the unwashed dish atop some other bowls and utensils, reminding himself to get to that later since his priority was not to keep you waiting at the coffee shop. 

Another buzz and Satoru nearly trips over his feet at the dread he gets from seeing his best friend’s message. Are you kidding me? He thinks to himself as he reads the message again. 

Suguru: She’s cute

Yeah, he thinks he might be sick again.

Music’s playing in the background to substitute the sound of chatter that’d usually fill the room if Shoko were here. It wasn’t rare for Shoko to not flake on parties and it was even rarer for you to leave your comfort zone and go to one–especially the last one hosted by Sukuna; but this one was different. Suguru was the host and you’d be an idiot to miss it. 

You flinch at the feeling of your mascara poking the inside of your eye, cursing quietly as you take a q-tip to fix the mistake. 

The buzz of your phone makes you freeze.

Gojo: omw to ur house 

Gojo: ill be there in 10 

You: wait satoru don’t get mad but what do i wear 

Gojo: …

Gojo: YOU DIDNT LIKE THINK ABOUT THAT AN HR AGO?

You: I WANNA STAND OUT TO ATTRACT THE LOML OKAY? 

You: so i need ur opinion 

Gojo: dude

Gojo: ok

Gojo: just wear whatever u want it’ll be fine 

You: yeah but what specifically?

Gojo: not smth that makes you look like a grandma 

Gojo: like that dress u wore to the last party 

Gojo: no offense

You: but i liked that dress :(((( 

You: was it that bad?? I mean i had to throw it out bc of the vomit anyways

Gojo: it made u look like a grandma but in a good way 

You: wow okay thanks

Gojo: you looked nice 

Gojo: ANYWAYS  

Gojo: a pair of jeans 

Gojo: and that light blue long sleeve that shows ur shoulders 

You: really? 

Gojo: yeah and i’m leaving my apartment now so hurry up 

You like the message, tapping your lips to even out the lip tint before you rush to put on the shirt and jeans. Doing a quick double-take in the mirror, you spin once and prop your hands on your hips, snapping a few selfies to commemorate this day. 

You’re not sure how much time passes until you hear excessive honking outside, the sound of your phone buzzing as you see Gojo’s caller id. It’s enough to make your eyes roll as you grab your bag–leaving the door locked and the lights off. 

Gojo’s grin is boyish and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom. “Oh look at you,” he coos. “You’re actually wearing what I told you to wear.”

“Well I felt like listening today,” you murmur, feeling a small ripple of embarrassment pass you. 

“Atta girl.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, feeling a grin form when you hear him chuckle. He puts his car into reverse mode, propping his arm on the top of your seat. Up close, you can get a stronger whiff of his cologne–its musk and earthiness slowing your heartbeat, calming you. Your eyes scan his outfit: a black pullover layered atop white t-shirt, paired with a pair of pants that were on the edge of being joggers and trousers.

On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t have done them good like it did with Gojo. To your displeasure and awe, he looked effortlessly classy. And if he noticed your lingering gaze, he didn’t mention it. 

“What’s your game plan?” His voice draws you back to reality and you watch as he sets the car back into drive mode. 

“Game plan?”

“That’s right,” he glances at you, his shades sliding lower on his nose bridge. “Your plan to seduce the love of your life.”

“I’m not going to seduce him!” You gape, narrowing your eyes at his widening smile. His hand reaches down to turn the volume of the song a bit louder, stopping at the upcoming red light. 

“I’m just joking with you,” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before that smile returns to his face, not quite meeting his eyes like it usually does. He sighs before breaking into a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “I’d pay to see that though.”

At the party, you’d imagine yourself “mingling” with the crowd and letting loose–being the life of the party. Unfortunately for you, your feet are still stuck on the kitchen floor and you’re glued to Gojo’s side. You’d like to blame it on the vomit incident from Sukuna’s party and you’re fortunate enough to not be known as the “girl that someone threw up on.” 

Either way, you weren’t especially fond of the fact that you were keeping Gojo from having fun somewhere else. Like in one of the unoccupied rooms upstairs or in the living room playing some drinking games. It’s enough to make you feel somewhat guilty and suddenly regretful that you even came to this party. 

You tap his shoulder in the kitchen, offering him a reassuring smile. “Satoru. You don’t have to stay with me. I can manage myself!” 

“That’s what you said last time,” he chuckles, rummaging through Getou’s fridge to search for something sweet, frowning when he sees traditional Japanese snacks that his grandparents would eat. “What the hell?” He murmurs to himself.

“I mean it,” you say, taking a few steps back. “You have some fun. I don’t want to bother you too much.”

“You’re not–”

“Satoru. (Name),” a velvety voice greets, all too familiar. A warmth spreads over you. “You made it.”

“Getou,” you murmured to yourself, glancing at Gojo who was already staring at you. 

For a second, you see a subtle tick in his jaw, a sight you blame on the lighting since he’s back to normal the moment he turns to face Getou. He grins that teasing smile of his. “Suguru.”

“You looking through my fridge again, Satoru?” The brunette huffs, kicking the fridge’s door shut lightly–exchanging the grin with his friend. Your heart squeezes as he casts a lingering look at you, his smile polite. “Hey (Name). Good seeing you here.”

“Huh?” You perk up. “Oh you too?”

You inwardly curse at yourself for how awkward you were, giving Gojo a scathing look as he hides his laughter behind his palm. Luckily for you, Getou’s sweet and he was also good at redirecting topics. “You want something to drink?” 

“Oh sure,” you blink, offering a thankful smile. “Thank you Getou–”

“Suguru.” 

You pause, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “Sorry?” 

“Call me Suguru,” he hands you a red, plastic cup–his smile pretty enough to make your breath hitch. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

You feel your heart race as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew what he wanted you to do next. You fidget, suddenly more bashful at the attention he was giving you. “Thank you Suguru.”

“No problem,” he smiles and you like how he looks satisfied with you. He hands another red cup to Satoru who stood beside you, the sarcastic grin of his returning. You take a tentative sip of the booze, watching curiously as Satoru and Suguru talked amongst themselves–reconnecting despite seeing each other only a day ago. 

You observe the two of them, mapping the details of Suguru’s face before your eyes land on Satoru–suddenly aware of the fact that the boy you spent most of your youth with grew up. Sure, you know that his face attracts attention from everyone but that was a token from childhood. It just didn’t hit you that he matured, grew up to be the man most would dream of dating. The realization is to make you wonder if Gojo ever registered the fact that you were growing too.

Slowly, you take another sip of your drink, blinking slowly as the alcohol settles in your system. Gojo’s the first to notice when you stumble, how your skin seems to heat up. “Hey hey,” he holds you by the shoulders, his voice soft. And if you paid closer attention, you would’ve seen the way Getou’s brows raised at how gentle his friend was acting towards you. “You okay?” 

Amidst your drunken state, you realize that Gojo didn’t bother drinking any of the liquor in his cup during his conversation with Suguru. And Suguru. Sweet Suguru who puts the pieces together and confirms that you’re a lightweight, the guilt evident in his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot how strong this liquor is.” 

“I’m okay,” you mumble and step forward, ready to excuse yourself to the restroom. Gojo looks like he’s about to say something until a group of unfamiliar faces barge into the kitchen, their faces bright as they greet Getou and Gojo with intentions to keep them occupied. Among the chatter and crowd, you find it easy to slip away–rushing to find a restroom. 

The first one you went in was already used by a couple that you remembered mumbling apologies to. The others were either locked or used. At some point, your gut told you to go upstairs and you staggered into an unoccupied bathroom where you splashed cold water on your face–sighing at how nice it felt against your skin.

The music’s only a fraction of its noise from up here and you’re surprised that there’s not much of a group upstairs. There’s a funny feeling in your stomach as you crouch slightly, mentally cursing yourself for downing the whole cup so quickly, ruining your chances to talk with Suguru–coherently at least. Part of you wants to sulk over your spoiled opportunities but another part of you just wants to crash on the tiled floor and sleep–rest your eyes for a bit. 

You’re thankful your mind was still conscious enough to rationalize the unsanitary conditions of the bathroom floor, opting to curl up in one of the hallways instead–shivering at the feeling of cold marble beneath you. Your eyes droop, a yawn escaping you. And you’re almost certain you would’ve fallen asleep if not for the gentle shaking of your shoulders. 

“Stop,” you whine softly, your vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of hair the color of snow and a pair of worried filled blue eyes. Your protests turn quickly to bemusement. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”

You think he smiles as he kneels down on one knee to be eye level with you. “How about I get you off the ground first?” 

“I don’t wanna. Let me sleep here,” you shake your head, ignoring how your body felt warm at how softly he treated you. 

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “The ground’s dirty. Let's get you to a bed at least.”

In your drunken state, your mind still decides it favors a soft comforter over cold marble and you see his eyes soften when you go limp in his arms–letting him lift you from the ground. “Good girl.”

Your mind goes fuzzy at the sound of that and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or something else that makes your temperature rise. In that simple moment, you let his arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest as he makes his way downstairs. All your thoughts stop as your eyes close, drowning the sound of the party out as you permit sleep to take over. His hands give your thighs an occasional squeeze, the gesture oddly intimate yet you don’t bother questioning it or objecting to it. 

Even with the veil of sleep dropping on your form, you still recognize Suguru’s voice as he tells Satoru to take care of you, his tone apologetic–having been the one to give you the liquor. They talk for a bit and once more, you feel the bounce of each step as he carries you out the house.

You’re barely awake when Gojo puts you in the passenger seat and you feel disappointment wash over you when he stops holding you. You’re not sure when you grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you peered up at him. “Don’t go.”

A noise of protest escapes your lips when he removes your cold hand from his shirt gently, rather taking it in between his warmer ones. “I won’t.”

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I like when you compliment me.”

“Oh yeah?” He says, laughing a bit. “It’s hard not to.”

The music and cheers in Suguru’s house are still audible even in Gojo’s car, your vision getting darker and darker with each blink. Still, you can still feel Gojo’s hand gripping yours–his thumb rubbing circles on the skin as you invite sleep back in, taking deep breaths as you breathe in his cologne. 

And as sleep came to life, you allowed the dreams to live as well. 

Was there such a thing as a relationship between dreams and memories? In moments of delirium, you can’t single out what’s real and what’s not–was it a dream or did it actually happen?

But now that days have passed and you’ve given yourself more time, you’re certain that Gojo was the one who carried you out of the house and spent his night caring for you. So you ruled out the possibility that the night was a dream, rather a memory that made you feel soft inside–grateful yet unsure. And if you wanted to ponder harder, you would’ve done so if not for the hell you were experiencing this week. 

Forgetting the content during a quiz. Getting yelled at by your boss. Having stepped in bird shit. Waking up late nearly every day because you’d forget to put your alarm on. 

If that wasn’t enough, you got in an argument with your parents over the phone. It was about something stupid and you were so frustrated that you ended up walking to some 7/11–buying yourself an ice-cream to cheer yourself up. The argument was so dumb and you weren’t even sure what you guys were even arguing about. All you knew that you should probably call them later to talk it out; you also knew that this week couldn’t get any worse.

What was Satoru doing right now? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check your messages–frowning when you saw none from him. Your eyes land on a message from Suguru, seeing the link he sent you to some video he found funny or intriguing. After the party, you were shocked to see an unknown number texting you, claiming it was Suguru and that Satoru gave your number to him. The day that happened, you texted him using exclamation marks and thanked him–smiling at your phone as you two exchanged witty messages with one another. 

You sighed, unlocking your phone and clicking Satoru’s contact and phoning him. You almost hang up after several rings but you hear his voice after the nth ring. “Hello?”

“Satoru?” You say, your voice cracking the second your lips part to speak. You weren’t expecting to cry and neither did Satoru–though you can hear the concern laced in his voice as he questions your whereabouts. 

“Where are you sweetheart?” You hear rustling in the background amidst his voice and your sniffles. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” you wipe your eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie. 

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You think you might cry harder with how sweet his voice was. 

Satoru thinks he might be the only one who notices the rift between you and him. And he’s not sure if he’s the one causing it or if it’s you. But after that night with you (in his car again), he’s been thinking about how soft you were in his arms; how he liked the way your head drooped against his chest. Or maybe he likes you but he’s not going to think about that unless he wants another headache. 

Regardless, he finds himself looking at his phone sporadically, subconsciously eager to see your name pop up unexpectedly–eager for things to go back to normal. Even though you two still speak, he’s almost sure that he’s not imagining the awkward tension in the air. 

Was he too intrusive when he carried you out to his car? Were you mad at him because he didn’t leave Suguru and you alone in the kitchen? It was a selfish thing to do, he admits. His original idea was to leave you alone with Suguru so you’d get to chat with him–get to know him like you intended to do at the party; but seeing Suguru give you that sly smile of his was enough to make Gojo ditch his plans of playing Cupid. 

If Gojo was a good man, he’d feel happy that you were getting what you wanted since he knew you weren’t the only one interested. Like with the message Suguru sent to Satoru and how he eyed you at the party; how he called Satoru over for a bit and told him that he understood why people liked you or found you attractive; how he commented on how the shirt you wore suited you. 

No shit, I picked it, he thought to himself as he recalled that night. Satoru always knew you were beautiful and he hated that everyone else knew too. You weren’t even his yet but he didn’t want to share you–to let anyone else hold you or have you. Seeing you blush and smile shyly at his best friend made him want to puke—made him want to claw his eyes out. That should be him and god he wishes it was.

He was selfish yet he never promised to be good. Yet, this was for you. He wanted you to be happy, is what he told himself whenever he saw you and Suguru talking. 

His phone buzzes and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he snatches it, the anticipation in his eyes fading when he sees that it’s Suguru messaging him about the party today. Satoru sighs, rubbing the spot between his brows as he leans on the kitchen counter, suddenly reminded that he planned a party at his place today. It was an impulsive decision to forget about the tension between you two and Satoru’s kinda wishing he took the time to talk it out with you rather than planning something else. 

He invited a good amount of people and was going to invite you as well to give him a reason to call you. But lucky for him, you made things easier for him by calling him. Satoru thinks it’s not healthy for his blood temperature to rise just at the sight of your name on his phone and he’s already grinning when he picks up. “Hello?”

“Satoru?” 

Oh. He pauses, his brows furrowing at how your voice cracked as you tried to hide your sniffles. His first thought was to wonder who made you sad and he thinks it’s scary how hearing you cry was enough to send his emotions in a frenzy. But you needed him and he didn’t want you to be alone. “Where are you sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname flowing off his tongue before he can stop. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” You mumbled back and his heart nearly snapped in two with how dejected you sounded. He frowns, grabbing his jacket and his keys–rushing to slip on his sneakers. 

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You make a sound of understanding and he hangs up, his finger tapping to click on Suguru’s contact. Satoru hears other familiar voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it. 

“What’s up Satoru–?”

“Party’s off.”

“What? Wait what are you–”

“Sorry something came up. I’ll tell you later,” he says, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He knows he should feel bad for flaking out last minute but his list of priorities had you at the top of it. And he really didn’t care if anyone else would understand. 

You’re regretting the choice of shorts in the chilly night air and the ice-cream you ate wasn’t helping you shiver any less. 

The way Satoru sounded made that warm, fuzzy feeling settle in your stomach again. He sounded like he would drop whatever he was doing just to get to you and it made you feel special. You think back to the sound of “sweetheart” from his lips, shaking your head when you feel your blood get warm.

“(Name)?” Satoru’s voice startles you from your thoughts and you think the sound of it could erase all your troubles. “You alright?” He asks, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and draping them over your legs, kneeling down to see your face.

You only nod. “I want to go home.”

“Yeah I can take you back–”

“No,” you shake your head. “Back to your place.”

For a moment, you’ve stunned him but that surprise left as fast as it arrived. He sighs, tapping your knee with his finger. “Usually dinner comes first–”

“Not like that you idiot,” you kick him lightly, a grin forming on your lips. “Your methods of comforting are weird.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, the sound blending with the wind. “Well maybe I’m not trying to comfort you,” he eyes you with a teasing glint in his eyes and flashes a lopsided grin. He looked almost sweet as he did sly, the blend making your heart pick up in pace. 

You squirm, mustering a tone of nonchalance. “I changed my mind. I’m going back to my place.”

This time he chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Nuh uh. It’s my job to wipe that frown off your face,” he says, the corny phrase making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, I’ll be good to you.”

You pretend to think, ignoring the attentive expression he wore. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you take me home.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, standing up to his full height. You beam at him, matching his steps as you two reach his door. By the time the two of you were settled at his place, you already spoke to your parents in private–clearing up the misunderstandings like Satoru reminded you to do. You were glad you had him and even more glad that things were falling back to place. 

Your eyes scan your surroundings, noticing how he must’ve tidied things up. “Did you clean your place?”

“Hm?” He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “Oh yeah. I was going to have a party here.”

“Today?”

“That’s right,” he drawls, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go.”

“Really?” That was a shock to you. “Are you still gonna have one today?”

“Nah. Canceled it last minute.”

You pause, raising your brows as you try not to jump to conclusions. “Why’d you cancel it?”

“Had better things to do. I'd rather hang out with you anyways,” he says casually, smiling when he finds the packets of hot cocoa. “Found it!”

Did he cancel the party for me? You think to yourself, a bit surprised that you came to that conclusion; but if you were right and he did, you wouldn’t know what to feel other than appreciation and maybe something else. Whether that was true or not, you know that you should be feeling guilt and not giddiness from having him prioritize you. Was it normal to feel this way for Satoru? You’re about to let your thoughts fill your head but you feel your breath hitch at how he seems to lean closer to you. 

His hands move you by the hips, the touch barely lasting five seconds. “Sorry I gotta get the spoons,” he murmurs, paying no mind to how you hold your breath. Your eyes fall to his biceps, swallowing a gasp as you see how the black material of his shirt moved with every movement he makes. There was no way he was human when he looked like that.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, suddenly mortified at the fact that you were checking him out. What was wrong with you right now? You always knew Gojo was attractive but you didn’t think he was this attractive. And if he had any idea of your internal conflict he didn’t pay it any mind. 

“Can you go get the movie ready for me?”

“Uh huh,” you nod immediately, quickening your pace as you try to distract yourself. By the time he sits next to you, the blankets and snacks are already placed neatly on the living room table. You smile and mutter a thank you when he hands you the mug of hot cocoa. 

“Feel better?” He asks, propping an arm on the head of the couch once you’re halfway through the movie: a random romcom you picked to cheer you up. Even as someone who claims he’d rather watch a movie with more action, you think the drama that comes with romcoms intrigues him–much more than he’d like to admit. 

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting to him. “Much better.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing at the way your knees touched. The scene panels to a teary confession the female lead does, the music dramatic with strings in the background. You watch intently, observing the expressions both characters make on screen.

“Y’know, I never understood how they can always come up with a speech like that on the spot,” Satoru comments, plopping a few gummy bears in his mouth. “Isn’t that unrealistic?”

“It’s a movie,” you point out, watching as the male lead hung onto every word the female lead had to say. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”

“I guess you’re right. But that stuff apparently happens in real life right?”

“Wouldn’t you know? You have people confessing to you all the time.”

“I don’t give them much time to continue speaking,” he shrugs. 

You don’t like how uneasy you feel after he says that. “Well, maybe it’s love that makes this kind of stuff happen.”

This earns you an amused snicker. “Of course you’d say that. You gonna do that with Suguru? Confess to him from the bottom of your heart?”

You roll your eyes. “To do that, I’d have to be in love with him.”

“Are you?”

“No,” you give him an incredulous look. “I hardly know the guy. I just really like him.”

He makes a sound of understanding but you feel as if you’re deluding yourself when you see the look of relief cross his face. You turn to him, the movie forgotten all of a sudden. “Would you do that?”

“What? Confess to Suguru with the bottom of my heart?” 

“Yeah sure. That’s what I meant.” you huff, seeing his teasing grin form. You sigh. “No like…confess to someone you love.”

He’s quiet, the faraway look in his eyes confirming that he’s deep in thought. You’re not sure why a pang of irritation hits you when you realize that there might be someone Satoru’s in love with. And you’re not sure if it’s because he’s not telling you or because you want to be that someone. You go with the former because you’re supposed to like Suguru. 

His eyes wander to meet yours and the tick in his jaw makes you nervous–makes your palms sweaty because he’s never looked at you like that. You’re not even sure words could describe what emotion he had on his face. He smiles–not the smile that’s crooked and boyish. It’s the smile that’s sharp and makes his eyes narrow. “I might.”

“You might?” You ask, hating how breathless your voice sounded to your ears–something that he notices with the way amusement practically glimmers in his eyes. You swallow a gasp when his gaze falls to your lips, quickly flying back to your eyes. 

“Maybe,” he whispers and you can’t help but wet your lips, feeling faint when the bright blue of his eyes darkens to black. You don’t flinch when his head tilts, his arm coming to the side to trap you between the couch. His cologne overwhelms you, makes you drunk on him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath hit your face. 

“Satoru–” 

The sound of your phone buzzing crushes the tension quickly and you let him lean back–looking as if he had more to say. You feel a smidge of disappointment as you grab your phone. “It’s Suguru,” you say and you’re not sure why your inner voice begs Satoru to tell you to ignore the phone call–to act like he cares more. 

“Shouldn’t you answer it?” He questions and you hate that sinking feeling in your stomach when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you–as if acting like he wasn’t about to kiss you seconds ago. You can only frown, nodding as you watch him stand up–still not offering you one single look. “I’ll clean up.”

As you glance at your phone, at the name of Suguru appearing on your screen, you hope for the slightest bit of joy–that lovesick feeling you get whenever you’d see him. Yet, it felt wrong. This felt wrong. And apparently, Suguru could tell from your voice that there was something bugging you. 

“Is everything alright? You don’t sound too good.”

Your eyes linger on Satoru’s figure moving to the kitchen. You think Suguru mentions something about a date but you don’t pay much attention, not feeling all that bad as you drown out his voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can–”

“Sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your body lurches at your response–as if it didn’t want this. “Sure. I’ll see you at 7.”

You don’t catch what he says when he hangs up, only thinking of how Satoru looked at you when he was leaning closer. The thought doesn’t horrify you as much as it should but you think that if he had kissed you, you probably would’ve kissed him back. 

If someone told you a month ago that you were going on a date with Suguru, you would’ve cried tears of joy and celebrated. But now, you’re almost undeniably feeling a wave of indifference hit you and it feels awful. Suguru’s perfect–his sharp features and his charming smile that’d send anyone into a frenzied mess. Or maybe most tend to fixate on how suave he is with his words–mixing the subtlest of flirtations with simple compliments.

He’s everything you could’ve asked for. Yet, you find yourself missing the ruthless beauty you saw in Satoru–the striking blue of his eyes and the rare color of his hair. You find yourself missing the rasp of his voice, how it’d soften that night when he comforted you; you find yourself missing his warm and strong embrace as he took care of you in your inebriated state; you find yourself missing how close he was that night on his couch and how he looked at you. 

At some point, you found yourself replaying that scene over and over again. The first few times, you were giddy with hormones as you imagined him leaning closer and kissing you. After a while, you wanted the image gone because it didn’t happen. He pulled away. He let you pick up the call from Suguru. He acted like nothing happened when in reality, a lot did happen. You two were finally breaching the line of friends and he knew that. 

So why? That question plagued your mind for days after and every time you think you forgot about it, the memory of him would remind you all over again. And when he only congratulated you when you told him about your date with Suguru you felt betrayed. Why don’t you care? You almost blurted out but technically he did care. After all, he was the one who was trying to set you guys up so why did you suddenly want to change your mind?

You think you might hate him a little for being so good at acting like everything’s normal and you think you might hate more for making your heart beat so fast. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to imagine your best friend kissing you breathless or taking you on a date. 

Everything’s going to fall into place, you tell yourself. You’ve already dolled up and were in the middle of spraying your perfume when Getou messaged you that he was already here. He’s relaxed in the car as you enter the car. This scene feels the same, you think to yourself, recalling the way Gojo greeted you the last time he picked you up.

“You’re wearing the shirt you wore to the party,” Getou points out and you look down at your shirt, gaping at the revelation that you’re wearing the same top Gojo told you to wear. Even with the company of another man, your subconscious still wishes he was here. 

“I didn’t even notice,” you mumble, smiling at the brown-haired male as he drives. The small talk is all natural as you two make your way to the restaurant and you’re grateful that Suguru’s such an easy person to talk with. He’s nice. Really nice and you feel almost guilty for not being as enthusiastic as you wanted to be. 

It’s only when you’re midway through the meal that he mentions it. “You’re not here.”

“What?”

“Here,” he shrugs, glancing at you with an empty smile. “You’re thinking about something else aren’t you?”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t worry I’m not mad,” he says and you know he’s telling the truth. “I’m curious. What are you thinking about?”

This makes you squirm in discomfort, a bit uneasy at how perfectly he read you. Satoru’s always made comments about Getou’s intuitive feeling for emotions and you’re starting to think he wasn’t exaggerating. “What if I don’t wanna tell you?” You joke.

“Then you’d leave me to assume,” he answers easily, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I’m not an idiot (Name). I know when a lady’s thinking about someone else in my presence.”

When you try to protest, he only smiles. “Is it Satoru?”

Your silence is enough said. You want to deny him–want to shake your head and utter a firm “no.” But something about the question makes you lose your sense of thought and Suguru understands that too. “Are you in love with him?”

This catches your attention. “No. I like you not him.”

“Aren’t we well past the point of lying now?” He gives a good-natured chuckle. “If you liked me then you wouldn’t have looked at your phone so many times as if you were expecting a call.”

You widen your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah I’m really not mad,” he sighs. “But I’m interested in why you didn’t decline my offer for a date.”

You’re silent for a while, musing over his words. “When you called me, Satoru and I were about to kiss. Or well–at least I think we were about to kiss.

“So why’d you pick it up? I know Satoru enough to know that a call from me isn’t enough to make him stop with whatever he’s doing,” he raises a brow and you catch a roll of his eyes as he remembers something. 

“It’s because he was the one who was setting us up together.”

Suguru makes a sound of confusion, nodding at you to continue. You take a big breath. “I asked Satoru to help me get with you.”

Getou makes a “o’ with his mouth, nodding in consideration as he processes your words. His pity makes you feel small and you’re finally experiencing the impact tenfold. “Oh (Name).”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “So now I’m pretty sure I messed up the friendship because I was stupid and he’s never gonna like me back–”

“That’s not true,” he stops you, taking a sip from his wine. “Satoru’s different around you.”

“Well that’s because I’ve known him for a while now.”

“Maybe. But he doesn’t go out of his way to help people like he does with you. Even an idiot could notice that.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes me back–”

“You don’t know that yet,” he retorts, that smile of his returning again. “Just like I didn’t know you were in love with my best friend the entire time.”

You wince, swallowing as you peer up at him. You know he didn’t intend for the comment to burn but a small part of you thinks he did it on purpose. The sight of you sulking brings a wider grin to play on his face. “Relax. I’m only playing with you,” he pauses. “I’m a bit jealous that Satoru's got such a cute girl in love with him though.” 

His teasing makes you laugh. “What if he doesn’t love her back?”

“Then he’d be an idiot,” he says, giving you a look as he asks for the bill. “If he breaks your heart you know who to go to. I’d be happy to have you for myself.”

You roll your eyes, smiling softly when he coyly smiles. Suguru was kind enough to offer to drop you off at your place but you told him you wanted to see Satoru—bringing a surprised look on the brown-haired male’s face. You’re not sure how apparent it was, but you reeked of anxiety and Suguru was quick to point it out.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says nonchalantly, shooing you with his hand once you stare at him in bewilderment. “Go. Just do me a favor and message me when you guys are gonna get uh intimate.”

“We’re not—“ you click your tongue at his grin. You thank him, rushing to Satoru’s flat—the sound of your heels clicking against the floor. 

If you were in a movie, there would be dramatic music playing in the background—perhaps orchestra or a sappy love song. The scene was so cliche but you’re understanding why the protagonists always ran: it was love. You were in love with Gojo Satoru. 

You ring his doorbell, fixing your hair as you ready yourself to see him—mentally preparing the script of your confession. Please be home, please be home, please—

The door opens and a plethora of blue looks back at you, the surprise evident in them. You visibly brighten, smiling as you see him. “Satoru I—“

“Satoru?” another voice says from behind him—the voice evidently female. You freeze, feeling as if this image was in slow motion as you see a glimpse of a girl behind Satoru. Your eyes flit to both of them, the speech you prepared in your head drying up like a sore. “Who’s this?”

You hate that you can only watch. “It’s just a friend. Why don’t you go back inside for a bit, yeah?”

She’s so pretty, it hurts. There wasn’t a speck of imperfection on her and the need to curl up in a ball never felt stronger. The girl nods at Satoru, glancing at you in curiosity as she leaves you two alone. 

You think you might hate a little bit for looking at you in concern. “Is there something wrong? Are you okay? If something—“

“No. Nothing’s wrong I’m just—“ you say, wishing your voice was louder at this moment. You avoid his eyes, fearing that you’d end up crying in front of him if you continued to stare at him. “I need to go.” 

“What? But you just got here—“

“I don’t know why I came here. This was a mistake and I—“ you sigh shakily, turning on your heel to leave. 

Satoru grabs you by the wrist, his gaze soft as he shakes his head when he sees you try to pry his hand off of you. “Just tell me what I can do—“

“Suguru’s waiting for me,” you say quickly, ignoring the way his face drops. “He’s outside right now.” 

You hold your breath the moment his hand slowly slips off your wrist, taking a few steps back as you make your way outside. Not once do you turn back as you try your best to hold the tears in—ultimately failing as they fall as quickly as they appear. 

By the time you reach Suguru’s car, your make-up is already ruined. At first, he snaps his head back at you with a smile, the curve of lips quickly disappearing as he sees your lip trembling. “No?”

“No,” you confirm, sitting back into the car and wiping your tears with a tissue he hands you. There’s no words spoken between you two as he starts the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ironically, you listen to the soundtrack of “The Other Woman” playing in his car and he’s quick to change the song. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t think he was that stupid,” he says after some time, signaling right as he reaches the stop light. 

“He wasn’t,” you murmur. “I was the stupid one for thinking that we could be more than friends.”

After the ordeal a couple nights ago, you’re not even ashamed that you’re blatantly avoiding Gojo like the plague. You even turned off your read receipts for him which you would’ve found so petty if you didn’t feel so frantic at the sound of his name. Originally, you thought he’d put up more of a fight and be more persistent in getting your attention–only you were proven wrong when you didn’t see any of his attempts increasing. 

Disappointed, you were caught in a dilemma. You wanted this distance but craved his presence. At some point, your thoughts ran dry and you were in a slump. Were you always this bad at making up your mind?  

No. You weren’t. You didn’t think excessively hard when you decided you liked Getou and when you stopped liking him. Nor did you think super hard about your other crushes. Gojo made your brain hurt and if this was love, you’re not sure you really liked it; but it felt so nice to think about how it would feel to be loved by him–to have him kiss you. 

Which is why you thought it was a great idea to avoid him because surely time makes the feelings fade. And you hope they fade fast–especially after you saw him with that girl. You bite back your jealousy at the thought of what they did together. Today was supposed to be a mental health day. It was if fate allowed you to have little to nothing to do and you were going to take advantage of it. 

The coffee house was ambient with the occasional loud laughter from groups of friends. You were halfway through your book, taking a sip from your drink as you flipped the pages. This was what you were meant for: reading novels in a cafe, keeping a low profile, and protecting your peace. 

You’re about midway through the big plot twist until you hear the sound of a chair scraping and your heart freezes in your chest when you see Gojo stare back at you. Only this time, he looks serious and even annoyed. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” he begins, tapping his finger nails on the wooden table. You don’t miss the way a few people take a few double-takes when they walk past him. So much for keeping a low profile. 

“Gojo,” you acknowledge him awkwardly, fidgeting with the pages of your book.

Your stomach does a flip when his jaw twitches and his eyes cross your face. He sighs, leaning back and adjusting his seating position. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You literally just called me Gojo,” he said and if you were more rational, you would’ve laughed at how childish he sounded over you not using his first name. 

“A lot of people call you Gojo,” you point out, still not meeting his eyes. 

“You’re not just ‘a lot of people.’ And you always call me Satoru,” he murmurs. 

You tense up. There he goes again: treating you like you’re special. It makes you confused and makes your heartbeat skip. You clear your throat. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” He says, a bit loudly at that. It was unlike Gojo to attract attention to personal matters in public and the guilt hits you. You were so caught up in your own feelings that you completely ignored how he would’ve felt. Even if he only thought of you as a friend, anyone would’ve felt mad if put in the situation you put Gojo in. 

You glance at the curious gazes in the cafe, grabbing him by the hand as you pull him outside to a secluded area. You quickly drop his hand, a bit surprised that he let you even hold it. “What are you talking about?” You ask, not sure why you’re playing dumb. 

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, staring down at you. Sometimes, you forget how tall Satoru really is and how his gaze can make anyone feel small. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

You think back to him and the girl. “No you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what the hell is it?” He says, sounding more mad than you initially thought. His eyes scan over your face–observing your pursed lips and aversion from his eyes. He clicks his tongue. “Is this about the other night?”

You really wish you didn’t snap your head so fast to meet his eyes. The other night could’ve meant many things but you knew he was referring to a specific one. “No,” you say and you already know he doesn’t believe you. 

“(Name),” he says softly. “Were you jealous?” Hearing him saying it out loud makes you cringe. You shake your head adamantly, trying to muster up the courage to not break eye-contact with him. You wonder if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” he voices in that tone that tells you that he’s already figured it out. For all the years you’ve known Gojo, you’ve become well-acquainted with his habits and his mannerisms. And you knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop with the questions until you told him the truth. 

He always did this. Always made sure to pummel the truth out of you and it didn’t matter how dirty he played. “Then why did you go to me in the first place? Didn’t you have Suguru outside waiting for you?”

“I–”

“What was so important about what you wanted to tell me that you left Suguru waiting for you? What was it and why are you so scared that you’re avoiding me?”

“It’s because I like you!” You finally say, knowing that he bested you in this game of his. The regret hits you so hard you feel like running away again. Only this, he doesn’t let you when he pulls you by the shoulder. 

“What?” He says breathlessly, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s over, you think to yourself. He’s going to hate you after this because you ruined the friendship. 

“I avoided you because I like you,” you admit quietly. “And because I saw you with that girl the other night.”

“(Name)...” 

“Stop,” you murmur, feeling the tears form. “Stop. I already know what you’re gonna say, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

You shrug him off, wiping your tears with your sleeve. The plans for “protecting your peace” almost seemed silly now because you couldn’t rewind time and undo all of this. You don’t bother saying goodbye to Gojo as you take your chances in leaving. And you desperately wonder how you were going to move on from this. 

Gojo thinks he’s in a fever dream. Your confession stunned him into oblivion and if it weren’t for your tears, he thinks he might’ve stayed in one spot for hours on end. The night you came over, Gojo already had enough on his mind. Seeing you in the flesh made him lose the logical side of his brain and his mind just replayed that night you two nearly kissed. 

He remembered being able to taste how nervous you were–how you found purchase on his shoulders as he tried his hardest not to pin you to the couch and kiss you stupid. He remembered how soft you were and how that thought would torture him for days on. 

Gojo knew what he did after was an asshole move but he thought the phone call from Suguru served as a reminder that he couldn’t have you. You two were best friends and to ruin that because he wanted you was selfish of him. He was already selfish enough to want to keep you for himself but you wanted Suguru. 

That’s why when you came to his place, he was confused. Gojo did something stupid and didn’t want the thoughts of you to keep popping up. He recalled dialing the number of some girl he stopped talking to ages ago just to not have you occupy his mind. 

When he saw your brows furrow at the sight of her, he was surprised to say the least. He ruled out the possibility of jealousy early on and just kept it as that. But now, on this chilly afternoon and in some secluded corner, you were confessing to him. 

You like him. You like him back. Sure, you didn’t love him like he loves you (or at least he thinks so) but that's besides the point. He collects himself the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes, panic coursing through him. 

Did his silence make you misunderstand? Did you know that he was ready to scream and tell the whole world that he finally got the girl of his dreams? How he was prepared to pull you into a crushing hug and hold you like he had heaven in his arms? 

He forgot you weren’t a mind reader and it dawned on him that he caused your tears. He doesn’t want to be the guy who lets misunderstandings marinate nor does he want to be the cause of your fallout. He was going to fix this. 

If you thought he was going to let you go that easily then you severely underestimate him. Because Gojo Satoru was willing to fight for your love.

You think you’re in some sappy k-drama when he grabs you by the wrist the second time. If you weren’t crying your eyes out, you would’ve laughed at him and he would’ve laughed with you. But there’s only a wave of frustration when he doesn’t let go. “Satoru let me go–”

“No,” he says with a deadpan and you almost think he sounds desperate. You’re about to say something but he only steps closer. “You can’t run away like you did before. That’s the easy way out–”

“I’m not–”

“You are,” he interrupts. “And I’m not gonna let you because you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”

You’re almost reluctant to stay silent but you give in when he squeezes your wrist–as if begging you to stay. You sigh. “Fine.”

“Good,” he whispers, racking his brain for what to say. He takes a deep breath. “A while back, I said I didn’t understand how the characters from romance movies always knew what to say in moments like these. You know those super long speeches? It seemed unrealistic to me but I think I understand now.”

You let him continue, clinging onto every word that falls from his lips. “It’s so easy to say stuff like this. When you’re in love with someone, you notice the little things about them. I noticed you and you were the only thing on my mind. You still are the only thing on my mind. Do you get what I mean?”

You watch in awe as he continues, stuttering over some of his words which was so rare for him. “The night you told me you liked Suguru I was so annoyed. I’ve never gotten jealous of Suguru or anyone but I wanted to be the one that you liked. I wanted to be the one that you dressed up for and the one you smiled at. It drove me insane when you went on a date with him and I hate that I didn’t just say fuck it and steal you away sooner.”

He takes a chance to catch his breath, ruffling his hair as he finally flashes you a crooked grin–a mix of embarrassed and boyish. “That girl you saw me with…I never did anything with her,” he admits and you think you might fall over from shock. “I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and I wanted you on my mind all the time. I didn’t want to think about anyone else and didn’t want anyone to take your place–”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you,” he finally says. “I already said that earlier but I want to say it again. I think I’ve always loved you–even when we were kids. I think little kid me always wanted your attention. I just never knew what I felt until I realized that you weren’t mine–not mine to love. And I don’t think there’s nothing in the world that I want more than you.”

At this point, your mouth is already ready to catch flies as you listen to his ramblings about his affections. You think you might cry. Gojo’s usually not good with words but you can tell how genuine he is–how much he meant this. “Then all those times you helped me with Suguru?”

“I hated doing that,” he huffs. “I swear I was about to punch Suguru every time he called you cute.”

You laugh, feeling jittery all over. “Would you?”

“I’m a bit worried that you like that idea a bit too much.”

You grin, shrugging. “Maybe a little. I guess I should tell you that I really wanted you to kiss me when we were on the couch.”

“You did?” He practically beams, cupping your face with his hand. You feel your stomach do twists when his thumb grazes the skin of your cheek softly, as if this was always normal. 

“And I should probably tell you that I love you too,” you say firmly, gaining a rush of confidence. “And you should probably kiss me right now.”

The smile on his face might just be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in the world. He leans in, cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. The way he holds you makes you feel safe and you think you might love him a little more when he moves his hand to your neck. 

You break the kiss. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

He laughs. “Do I need to kiss you again for you to say yes?” 

When you nod, he pulls you in again and again. And if this was his way of asking, you’d say yes each time. 

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #fluff #angst #satoru x reader #satoru x you

[livinghostly]

i will hold on to you for as long as you let me — megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorryyy the fushiguro-gojo family dynamic was rotting my brain and i needed this out of my system. LOTS of projection of my fear of growing up in this one soz. this was fully meant to be a drabble and it just kept going idk wc: 3.1k angst/fluff. mom!reader has a lot of bittersweet thoughts about megumi growing up and satoru is there to comfort <3 lots of parentheses and lots of repetition

you put on a brave face all day. all week, even. despite the burn in your chest that engulfed your lungs and squeezed unrelentingly. despite the tears that burned the corners of your eyes delicately balancing on the your waterline, one blink away from breaking the surface density and opening the floodgates to pour down your cheeks. despite the non-stop ache of your stomach, churning what you ate every day but still holding the same emptiness as anxiety consumed you.

megumi didn’t pack much, he never held on to many things to begin with. (you always prayed for that to change, for his comfort your home. you prayed he would see it as his own, as well). he neatly folded his clothes into his suitcases and stacked his hangers on top. he purchased a new sheet set for his bed in the dormitory because the one he was used to was much bigger, much softer. 

he packed most of his books, carefully picking out the ones that tugged at the nostalgic parts of him, frayed along the edges after many years of re-reading, as well the ones that still had vibrant covers and stiff spines he hoped to finish. you noticed the leather journal he kept tied together– the ink-blotted pages bursting at the seams –sitting on the shelf before he tucked it into his box of personal belongings. it was his third one since living with you, all filled to every last page and used beyond ruin. the rest were hidden between his headboard and the wall. you pretended not to know, after stumbling upon them while changing his sheets.

closing the door to your home felt eerily empty. it looked the same as every day. the couch was cleaned and the floors swept. dishes rinsed and promptly put away. but with your lingering gaze your mind fixated on the dining table set for four, two adult pairs of shoes at the door, one pink backpack slumped on the hook of the closet door with an empty space below. your chest twisted at the lack of clutter, though it’d been like that for some time, with tsumiki and megumi growing older and cleaning up after themselves properly like you taught them. like you wanted. the pride you initially felt with those memories of parenting were becoming eclipsed with resentment and despair.

the ride to school was quick and familiar, megumi knew well what he was getting into after visiting there to train. satoru liked to call them little getaways from megumi’s civilian life, claiming he wasted too much time around non-sorcerers when he could be on missions with his ever-loving benefactor instead.

satoru, who was whining while he laid himself across the three seats in the back of your car. you’d banished him there for such a special occasion, and he threatened to transport himself to the school alone. an empty threat, at best. he didn’t want to miss this. 

megumi had sparred with the older students and found himself thrown around the field many times already. he knew his way to the infirmary by heart, he knew where gojo tucked away his most powerful curse-imbued weapons (that were supposed to be under the surveillance of higher ups), and knew what letter-number combination granted him the ginger chips nobody else seemed to like. 

you were glad he was comfortable. you were glad he would fall into routine easily after the repeated trips to jujutsu high and developing a rapport with his upperclassmen. you’d waited for the day that he’d truly be part of the jujutsu world and welcomed into a better suited environment for people like him. and you knew he would be great, he already possessed an incredible technique and wielded it like he’d been fine-tuning it since birth. far ahead from most kids his age, you were proud.

still, your gut was sinking, sinking, sinking into the floor with each passing second.

megumi picked his room in one of the far-away corners of the boys dormitory, leaving inumaki and panda heartbroken (panda said he would find a way to organize sleepover. megumi said he would drop out before that happened. inumaki cried– no, wailed at the rejection). yuuta fell into step with you, slipping one of the boxes out of your hands and insisting on helping instead. it was sweet, if it didn’t feel like he was ripping precious time away from you.

but you smiled, and granted his wish. megumi wasn’t complaining, he liked yuuta more than the others. it was a good chance for them to talk more. all of this, a chance, a new chapter, the rest of his life. the thoughts weighed on your shoulders with a disgusting strain traveling to your fingertips.

you were painfully aware you were in your own head, doing this all to yourself. he wasn’t going away, you would still be seeing him, more than you used to when he went to his other schools. he would always be here.

satoru found you in your classroom, while you were organizing the stationary with an unnaturally stiff composure. your arms were tense, he could see the muscles constantly flexing with each of your movements.

your jaw was clenching and unclenching again. you made a point not to look outside, where the second-years were training brashly after successfully moving their things back into their dorms. you made a point not to meet satoru’s dangerous stare as he shut the door to your classroom, as if it granted any privacy with the seven large windows running along the wall that showcased the hallway. 

“what are you doing all by yourself, beautiful?” his tone was soft and inviting, begging you to open up and let yourself fall against the cushion of his words. 

“um,” you exhaled, voice shaky. you scrunched your face to break apart the tension that had hardened your expression. “i figured i would get a few things ready for tomorrow.”

it took satoru’s long legs two-and-a-half strides to meet you at your desk, where you gently shut the drawer. there were a handful of dated photographs in there, signed with his name and the chicken scratch of two children. 

“it’s all ready, baby. we did that last week.”

(correction: you did it. he tagged along for the shopping trip).

“there’s just… a few things...” you mumbled, not finding the strength to finish your own sentence. 

satoru gently placed his hand on your shoulder, emitting inhuman warmth that spread across your skin. you leaned into him as he dragged his hand down your arm and intertwined your fingers with the care of handling fine china. his presence brought you solace, effortlessly bringing the walls down that you desperately wanted to wait until you got home to break.

he kissed the back of your hand and rubbed the skin. “you know you’re going to see him every day, right?”

it was embarrassing how well satoru knew you, knew your thought process like it was an extension of his own. he knew your doubts and insecurities, your fears and desires. he could predict the words before they came from your mouth, more in tune with the way you spoke than his mother tongue.

“mhm.”

“you know we’re going to be the ones chaperoning his missions, right?”

you closed your eyes and looked away. “i know.”

“do you remember when he said he’d like to go home some weekends, and have dinner?”

“he said that to be nice.”

“when has he ever been nice?”

you opened your eyes to glare at him, though he was right. megumi was not nice. he was polite. he was too self-aware for his own good, too perceptive of others and their emotions. in all the time that you’d known him, raised him, he made himself smaller for the convenience of others. he walked on his tiptoes for a year and a half so no one else would wake up because of him. he made his own breakfast and bit back his tears when he burned himself. he didn’t ask for things or food and didn’t offer his input unless asked directly. for some time, he was a ghost in his own home. 

it seemed as soon as the bits of his shell started to break off, he was being swept away from you by the jujutsu world, leaving you with looming fears that consumed your mind and disrupted your sleep for weeks.

satoru smiled, though it was weighed down with your sadness. “hey, he’s not going anywhere, you know that. just because you’re not driving him home everyday doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

it’s funny, it’s nearly the same speech he gave you when tsumiki started middle school. and when megumi followed those same steps.

tsumiki didn’t make it this far, though.

the thought makes your lip wobble again, and you bite it back pathetically.

“i know. i know that. it’s just that…” your voice cracked, and you shoved your head in your hands. your palms squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the already-flowing tears. “he’s not my little boy anymore.”

satoru’s soothing hands pull you into a tight hug, and you don’t have it in you yet to move your hands from your face. his embrace makes you sob harder, louder as all your emotions from the last week begin to pour out at once. his chest rumbled with your cries, and he tucked you further under his arms as if to shield you from what was making you hurt so much. it was all you.

“baby…” he chuckled, without a hint mirth or mockery. he squeezed you with compassion and adoration. “you know that’s not true. he’s still pretty short, he’s got another growth spurt coming.”

a small laugh slipped through, but was quickly drowned out by your cries.

“he’ll be okay. he’s still here.”

he was so, so warm. he gently began to rock back and forth with you, the heels of your shoes gently clicking on the tile floor. a small hiccup erupted from you as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. the familiar thrum of his heartbeat welcomed you.

“i know, i’m sorry. i know he’s not leaving, or anything… i just… i thought i was ready.” you blubbered into his button-up. surely, there’d be two wet spots where your eyes were when you pulled away.

he swayed side to side with you, staring at the blackboard ahead of him. he nestled his chin on the top of your head, wondering if you could hear the cracks tearing through his heart. “it’s okay if you’re not ready. but you’re treating this like it's goodbye.”

“but what if we don’t get a goodbye?”

“okay, you really are overthinking this,” he pulled away from your embrace, your fingers still digging into the material of his shirt. he brushed away the hair covering your eyes, stuck to your skin by the wetness of your cheeks. streaks ran through your foundation and the corners of your eyes were smudged. “there you are. so pretty.”

it was silly how he believed he could make things better like that. it was silly that he was a little bit right.

“don’t think for a second i’ll let megumi be sent on a mission he can’t handle. he’s going to be fine.”

satoru’s love ran deep. for you, for megumi, for all his students. he fought curses everyday for you, rotted himself with his technique and stitched himself back up in a moment’s notice to fight for you. to come home to you. all of humanity be damned, those closest to him were the ones he fought for, and he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives.

he already towed the line with the higher-ups and their conservative rules and regulations, but he would tear them down if you asked. for megumi, he’d fight tooth and nail to see that he wasn’t being sent off on a mission ill-prepared. under his watch, things would be different for his students. 

you nodded meekly, wiping away your tears with one hand. “i hate when you’re right, toru. it’s really annoying.”

he smoothed down your hair and grinned. “i know, just let me have this one, though.”

his sweet murmurs filled your ears, along with the gentle shuffling of your clothes as you made yourself presentable again. you balled up your sleeves and patted the corners of your eyes gently, and he straightened out the hem of your shirt. it was wrinkled, a reminder of how harshly you clung to him.

you smiled at the water stains on his shirt now, and he claimed it was in need of dry cleaning anyway.

neither of you noticed the eyes of megumi and yuuta, both stuck in place at the very corner of the windows leading to the hallway. they had training staffs with them, megumi’s grip becoming tighter as he watched you wipe your eyes and knock your head into satoru’s chest lazily. your shoulders low, clearly drained from the amount you cried. 

yuuta was frozen, eyes flickering from you to megumi repeatedly. he found his courage in placing a hand on his shoulder, a feather-light grip. “hey, let’s go through the east wing. i’m pretty sure it’s faster that way.”

it wasn’t. but megumi nodded anyway, begrudgingly tearing his gaze from you and turning around with yuuta. 

you stared down the red light of the intersection with a blank face, blank mind. letting it all out of your system had successfully flushed out your emotions, taking the rest of your energy along with it. the car was painfully quiet, but no part of you wanted to listen to anything.

satoru was whisked away by yaga, being delivered another mission he swore would take less than a day. ‘less than twelve hours’, he promised to be back for megumi’s first day. he would make it.

it was dark, and you milked all the time you could on school grounds. speaking with yaga and shoko, running through the still-developing information of missions to be sent on. cleaning the classrooms. the lockers. stocking the teachers lounge. dusting the armory. before you knew it the curfew ushered the students into their dorms.

a ringtone broke through your thoughts, making you jump. though the tune was soft, the sudden intrusion made it much more shrill. you fumbled with your phone in the passenger seat, seeing megumi’s contact on the screen.

“hello?”

“hey, mom?”

it took everything you had left not to gawk. he said it before, sparingly in desperation for comfort. his voice was quiet, a near-whisper despite the fact he was alone in his dorm. like he was nervous.

“yes, megumi?”

“um… are you home?”

you wondered if he forgot something. “no, i’m still driving. are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i just… can’t sleep, i guess…” he trailed off, hoping for you to fill in the gap.

“oh. okay. did you take–“

“do you think you could pick me up?” he interrupted. “and i just stay home tonight? you could drive me in the morning.”

you were quick to dissolve into a smile, pointed at the streetlamp on the sidewalk. sadness struck your eyes but you were too occupied by the warmth of his question to feel it.

“yeah. i can be back there in a few minutes, just let me turn around.”

“thanks.”

he didn’t hang up. neither did you. the silence lived on for a few seconds.

“mom?”

“yeah?”

“… gojo’s on a mission, right?”

you laughed, your hand sliding across the steering wheel as you reouted back to the school. “yeah, megs, he’ll be gone tonight.”

“he’s back tomorrow?”

“yeah, we can leave before he gets home.”

“thanks.”

bonus:

satoru tiptoed through the entrance of your home, brushing his blindfold over his hair and peeling it off his head. he hung it up with his keys, lax arms nearly missing the hook on the closet door meant for him. it was beyond late, and he was tired, but he was home like he said he would be.

he bent down to tie his shoes, buffering momentarily as he caught a glance of well-worn sneakers at the front door. they were as clean as they could be, though scuffed rubber turning gray and the laces becoming frayed where they were tightened most.

satoru made a grunt in acknowledgement to no one but himself, as he tossed his shoes down. he glanced around the living space, cautiously bringing himself to each room with a curious itch to scratch. a third pair of shoes. both backpacks on the door. dishes for two placed on the drying rack. 

he was expertly quiet by nature, but found himself avoiding the squeaky floorboards on the stairs and all the way to the hallway. he was greeted with a blue sign, corners covered with dog stickers. the frilly handwriting of tsumiki warding off unwanted visitors with the phrase: “megumi’s room. keep out!!”

the door opened quietly, satoru pushing it open to the limit and stopping before it would let out an ungodly squeak. he insisted on never getting it fixed, knowing it bothered megumi.

megumi had his face shoved in his pillow, a desperate attempt to block out any light creeping through the crack of his bedroom door or the streetlamp just outside the window. he was always a light sleeper, always on edge, sleeping with his back to the wall so if something barged in the night he was ready. it was horrible he thought that way, you always said. 

his duvet covers were black and white plaid, per his request three years ago when he begged to be free of the puppy sheets. still, he seemed small, curled up in a ball. his face was released of the usual tension and his light breathing filled the room. for a moment, he was little again.

satoru smiled, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

#spleen writes #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x mom!reader #jjk gojo #jjk megumi #jjk megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #mom!reader #satoru gojo fic #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader

[pucksandpower]

Sleepyhead

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: sometimes race weekends can be so tiring that words escape you, but that has never been a problem for your doting boyfriend

Based on this request

You walk down the paddock path, utterly exhausted after a long day at the track. Your eyelids feel like lead weights and you can barely put one foot in front of the other. Charles has his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, practically carrying your limp body as you lean into him for support.

“Tired, mon petit chou?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You just let out a little grunt in response, too drained to even form words.

As you round the corner, Logan Sargeant spots the two of you and rushes over with a big grin. “Hey guys! How’s it going?”

Charles gives him a polite smile. “Hello, mate. We’re doing well, just a bit tired after such a busy day.”

Logan turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of … mad or something.”

You blink slowly at him, your brain taking its time to process his words. Mad? Why would you be mad? You just shake your head minutely, rubbing your cheek against Charles’ shoulder.

“Oh no, she’s not angry,” Charles explains with a little chuckle. “This is just how she gets when she’s really tired. She goes all quiet and doesn’t speak. Her body language is the only way to read her moods then.”

“Yeah, and right now she’s giving off major sleepy kitten vibes,” Oscar’s voice chimes in as he joins the little group with Lando beside him. “Lando gets the exact same way when he’s exhausted. He turns into a limp noodle that I have to carry around.”

Lando huffs indignantly. “Hey! I do not!”

“Yes you do,” Oscar laughs. “Remember that time in Monza last year? You were falling asleep on your feet after the race.”

Lando rolls his eyes but a fond smile tugs at his lips. “Okay fine, maybe I do. But only sometimes!”

You let their playful banter wash over you, your heavy eyelids sliding shut as you nestle further into Charles’ embrace. You feel so safe and comforted in his arms, his solid warmth enveloping you.

“Alright, I think it’s time we got you back to the hotel for some rest,” Charles murmurs, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Say goodnight to the boys.”

You manage a tiny wave at Logan, Oscar, and Lando before allowing Charles to steer you down the paddock towards the exit. His hand runs up and down your back soothingly.

“Goodnight you two! Get some sleep!” Oscar calls after you.

Once you reach the car, Charles helps you into the passenger seat, buckling you in gently before jogging around to the driver’s side. You’re asleep before he even starts the engine, finally giving in to the exhaustion weighing you down.

The sound of a car door opening rouses you from your slumber sometime later. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in your surroundings. Charles’ hand is tenderly stroking your cheek.

“Mon amour, we’re at the hotel. Let’s get you up to our room, hmm?”

You nod drowsily, allowing him to unbuckle you and help you out of the car. He pulls you into his side, one arm securely around your waist as you walk unsteadily towards the hotel entrance. Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover what you feel for this man by your side.

Once in the elevator, Charles shifts to face you fully, those warm green eyes shining with nothing but pure adoration. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You did so well today. I’m so proud of you for working so hard. Let’s get you nice and warm in bed now.”

You give him a tired little smile, nuzzling your face against his chest. He chuckles softly, squeezing you tighter.

Eventually you make it to the hotel room, Charles guiding you straight to the plush king bed. He helps you out of your clothes until you’re down to your underwear, then pulls back the covers for you to slip between the soft sheets. A happy sigh slips from your lips when your head hits the pillow. Charles presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Sleep well, mon cœur. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispers, laying down beside you.

You immediately curl into his side, draping an arm over his stomach as you burrow your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, making you feel so small yet so incredibly cherished. With Charles holding you snugly against his chest, you drift off into a deep, peaceful slumber.

When consciousness returns, the first thing that registers is the solid warmth of Charles’ body pressed against yours. His leg is hooked over yours, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek. There’s a pleasant ache to your limbs, the satisfying kind that comes from a good rest after a long day. You shift slightly, causing Charles to stir awake.

“Bonjour, ma belle,” he murmurs, his sexy morning voice making butterflies flutter in your stomach. You tilt your head up to meet his sleepy but adoring gaze, suddenly drowning in those green pools. God, he’s so beautiful.

“Good morning,” you whisper back, rubbing your nose against his.

Charles breaks into a dazzling grin, capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss that steals your breath away. When he pulls back, he cups your cheek tenderly.

“Did you sleep well? Feeling more rested now?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, smiling lazily. “Sleeping in your arms is the best.”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I couldn’t agree more. I love holding you close like this.”

Your heart swells three sizes as he gazes at you with such naked affection. This man loves you so fiercely, so completely. You can see it in his every look, his every touch. He treasures you in a way you never thought possible. Feeling brave, you let the words sitting heavily on your tongue finally slip out.

“Je t’aime, Charles … mon amour.”

His smile turns blinding, happier than you’ve ever seen it. “I love you too, with all my heart,” he breathes, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.

You melt into the embrace, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude you feel for this incredible man into the kiss. Nothing has ever felt so right, so perfect than being here in his arms. As Charles strokes your cheek and deepens the kiss, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll always feel safe, cherished, and deeply loved by this extraordinary man.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Depictions of Smut, Implied Non-Con, Breeding, Kidnapping, Restraining, Yandere Miguel, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Female Reader, Implied Gender-Neutral Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

You took him in after you found him collapsed on the rooftop of your apartment, a thick, bleeding gouge along his side. And, initially, he was very suspicious of you, found your generosity – your eagerness to clean and dress his wound, to bring him a fresh change of clothes, to offer him a warm meal – a cause for alarm.

But, you made your intentions with him quite clear; that you only wished to help, to make sure he was fully-healed before he descended upon the world once more.

He did try to leave. Truly, he did. But your proclamations that he needed rest and the nice warm bed you’d offered him forced his body to succumb before his mind did.

As convincing as you may be, Miguel is still highly cautious of you. Tuning into his senses, trying to detect poison in his food or a hidden enemy in your apartment.

But, for the days he’s there, Miguel picks up nothing.

You tell him about yourself – anything and everything he’d like to know – often sitting by his side and answering every question he asks of you: your name, your job; the basics. And, eventually, he opens up to you. Marginally. Tells you a little bit about why he’s here.

He only tells you he - and his associates – are in pursuit of a highly dangerous target. Of course, he omits the part about the fate of the Multiverse hanging squarely on the success of this mission, and he just can’t seem to bring himself to as your eyes fill with wonder and curiosity, your attention solely on him.

And he can’t help but indulge you when you ask him if he has any stories about his time as a superhero.

He relents. Tells you of missions which bear little weight on the universe you reside in – nothing that could endanger you should you tell another soul. And you listen with an eagerness he wished his subordinates would display, even if only for theatrics’ sake.

You tell him how lucky the world is to have a hero like him – how lucky you are to even be talking to him, seeing as you’re just a civilian.

Your earnest nature makes something in him tick. Something he can’t place his finger on.

As the days fly by, he finds himself racking his brain for more stories to tell you, more tales to regale where he comes out on top, ever the hero he is.

It helps bury some of the guilt that lingers in his heart, fractals of a universe he’s shattered. Makes him feel as if he’s not entirely a failure.

Whenever you leave the apartment – for work or for shopping – Miguel wanders around, watches some TV, formulates his game plan for when he has to leave.

That last one brings him a little too much anxiety for his liking, so he often finds himself thinking of you instead to ease his nerves.

Something, initially, he’s somewhat shocked by. But the longer he does it, the more natural it feels. The more vivid his daydreams become.

He tries never to let them stray into lewd territory, but after he accidentally caught sight of you undressing, his mind has been urging him to visit some...unsavoury places.

He only permits brief trips there when you’re out of the house, and never for very long.

The two of you fall into a routine while he’s healing; you come home and prepare him dinner, he comes and helps you – even when you tell him he should be resting. Then, you eat together and watch a film.

One evening, close to his departure – Miguel knows he hasn’t long with you left – you fell asleep on him, your face resting on his shoulder.

He dared not move for fear of disturbing you, losing you.

Then, his heart…fluttered.

And, as you slept soundly on him, with all the trust in the world, he realised that nobody had been this close to him – physically – since…

Since he lost his universe.

The idea that someone could take this for granted, the simple act of trust, that they could take advantage of yours, shot through him, a bullet of realisation. And the pain only sears as he looks upon your face, oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind, through the minds of others – criminals and low-lifes who would kill you for no reason.

He couldn’t leave you.

Not here, and not on your own.

He knows it’s selfish, but, in another vein, he believes he’s saving you. Being the hero you see him as.

The next day, he’s fully-healed. And he has a proposition for you.

“Go…with you ?” you say, eyebrow raised. “Miguel, I don’t underst-”

“You don’t need to,” he says. “But what you do need to know is that you’re not safe here.”

“What makes you think that ?” You cross your arms over your chest, as if to contain – hide – the suspicion growing there. Miguel brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubs it, tilts his head back.

“Listen, I just know things– things that make me qualified to tell you that you, on your own, in this universe, are not safe.”

Miguel knows he’s getting nowhere with you. Especially since he made no effort to explain his multiversal goings-ons to you when he first arrived. So, he shows you.

He takes you by the hand and, willingly, you go with him. To him, that’s confirmation – submission. Your compliance with his whims.

He brings you to a universe where everything is oddly…liminal. Like an early 2010’s Microsoft desktop wallpaper. Just green hills, a distant forest encircling the land, and a house. Big enough to fit a family of considerable size.

Made to fit you and Miguel.

By the time you realise anything’s wrong, out of the ordinary (aside from being shown inter-dimensional travel), Miguel’s dropping a bombshell on you.

“This is your new home,” he says, standing behind you. He’s so close you can feel his warmth against your back. He places a hand on your shoulder. Squeezes it. “Our new home.”

Any shock that overcomes you is overpowered with the sense of dread that you’ve walked right into Miguel’s trap. That, just as he’d warned you, someone had taken advantage of your kind, trusting nature.

You can fight as much as you want, but Miguel’s got his heart set on you. And your future here.

You see, while you were caring for Miguel, showing him the concern and attentiveness he’s been starved of for years, his mind had begun to wander. Wondered what you’d be like with him if you were always together. Wondered how you’d act if you were to care for a child. 

His child.

He’ll try to convince you of this ideal, that this is right and is what’s best for you, but if you keep resisting, you’ll see his possessive side emerge. His anger.

Red eyes, pinning you to the wall, nostrils flared; he is not losing you. And if he needs to frighten you into this new life, then so be it. Though, he wants you to adjust naturally, to want what he wants, to, dare he say, love him as he loves you.

And if you’re not going to submit to him willingly, he’ll take it by force.

If you’re capable of bearing children, he creates a strict regiment wherein he takes you, filling you with his load. At first, this was once a day – every two days if he was busy.

Initially, he’d string you up to the ceiling by your legs after finishing, “To make sure it takes,” he told you. And it doesn’t matter how hard you struggle; his webs are steadfast. Stubborn.

But, as he became more ravenous, more enemaoured by the prospect of keeping you, of breeding you, he became sloppy. Desperate. The thought of you swollen with his offspring hits him while he’s at work, during the downtime between missions.

At which point he just takes care of himself, panting your name in the bathroom stall before finishing and returning to work as normal.

Then it became more frequent, occurring while he’s on missions, during integral moments. At this point, he tries to suppress it, save it for later. After all, it’s not like he has a choice.

And that’s when he’d come and pay you a midnight visit, girthy and stiff and eyes red with the carnal need to fill you again and again until your stomach bulged.

That regime he’d set up unravelled, and now he takes you at every convenience, every chance he gets, pinning you to a web and making sure you can’t struggle if you’re particularly resistant.

At first, he did feel guilty about this; guilty that he was the one hurting you, causing you to cry, to beg for him not to finish inside you as you told him you weren’t ready to have a child.

And, during this period, he would wear his mask. He thought it would offer him some protection against your tear-streaked, anguished stare, your pleas for him to let you go, to return you home.

It didn’t.

He tries to comfort you, to tell you that you’ll “Love being a parent – just give it a chance,” as he pumps his hot load into you, holding you close to him.

Depending on his mood, he can be very gentle or very rough.

When he’s gentle, he whispers in your ear, tells you how much you mean to him, how he loves you more than you’ll ever know.

When he’s rough, he’s merciless. And gone is the tender love he’d subject you to, replaced with growls and claims that he needs you, that he won’t stop fucking you until you’re filled with his offspring.

He has a web created specifically for when he breeds you – where he attaches you to it upside down, making sure your chances of pregnancy are maximised. He fucks you here too, sometimes. And while blood is rushing to your head from being upside down, Miguel’s pounding the life out of you, panting, sweating, moaning your name.

He can go for many, many rounds. His superhuman stamina and strength make him unstoppable when it comes to you.

He’ll keep going long after you’ve finished or while you’re unconscious and exhausted from his barrage, never ceasing until he stuffs his cum into you, holding you to him, pressing kisses to your face as he tells you what a good job you’ve done, how well you’ve taken him.

If you do end up pregnant, Miguel is never letting you go.

You can say goodbye to any chances of getting back to your universe when he finds out you’re bearing his child.

And you can’t hide it from him, either. His hearing and perception tell him you’re expecting even before you’re aware of it.

By that point, the only thing you can do is just accept that this is your life now. Doing so early on will make your existence with Miguel little more than bearable. Because if you aren’t excited or tolerant of this child, Miguel will string you up in your bedroom.

“For your own good,” he tells you, his eyes flickering down to your stomach. His eyes soften, fill with warmth. “And the baby’s.”

If he suspects you’ll try to hurt yourself or the baby, he’ll take drastic measures to ensure neither of those things happen; restraining you, placing you into an induced sleep, cocooning you.

If you can’t have children, he’ll simply take one from another universe and tell you that the two of you will raise them together.

If he suspects anyone or anything else is going to try to hurt you or the baby, he’ll destroy it. No questions asked.

He’s indiscriminate, too.

Even if it were one of his associates – someone he’s worked alongside for years – they’re all superficial to him.

His only concern is you.

And he’ll make sure you’re loved and cared for forever.

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider verse #into the spider verse #spiderman #yandere spiderman #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #yandere #spiderman x reader

[lunargrapejuice]

Hi how are you doing I was wondering if I can request a wriothesley, Neuvillette, xiao, and zhongli(separately) with a pregnant reader who falls down the stairs but the reader is okay

thank you for requesting! i'm sorry, i didn't write xiaos i just couldn't come up with something worthy of sharing slkhdfs but i hope you enjoy everyone elses<3

wriothesley, neuvillette + zhongli (separately) x pregnant!reader

warnings: hurt/comfort theme but no one actually gets hurt, lots of tears and congrats you've given your beloved a heart attack but all is well

wriothesley:

you’re nearly to the top of the stairs in wriothesleys office when you see he isn’t here and let out a huff at how the trip up these stairs makes you so breathless in your current, very pregnant, state. by the lingering warmth and sweet scent of tea in the air, he must have been here not too long ago and at this point you might just take the few last steps up and rest of the couch, skipping your appointment with sigewinne and waiting for your husband to return here but maybe wrio was already making his way to the clinic.

at the height of your pregnancy brain right now, you can’t quite remember now if you told him this morning that you’d meet him here or there but with the lack of his presence now, you’re starting to think it’s the former. 

letting go of the chilled railing just long enough to turn around, you hold on tightly with each step you take down, your other hand cradling your round belly. you have to take each step one at a time, one foot after the other and archons it’s so exhausting to walk and your feet hurt and you just want to be laying in bed in your beloved arms with a serving bowl size of whatever you’ve been craving throughout the day.  

but especially to be with wriothesley. your pregnancy has brought your affection and want for him to a whole other level that was making it so you really might cry if you didn’t see him soon. he just.. made everything better with only a gentle touch and a flash of his smile, though it also helps that he dotes on your every want and need when he’s able and when it’s within reason. 

maybe it was that want that made your heart skip a beat when the large doors of his office open and not a second later you see the familiar tips of his dark hair and your already tired legs wobble, making you miss the next step down. it hurts your arm trying to hang onto the railing at such an awkward angle and you’re forced to let go, your body tensing and instinctively wrap around your stomach to try to prepare you for the impact of the metal stairs as you fall.

wriothesleys chest tightens quickly and terribly at the sight unfolding before him. he isn’t sure how he’s able to get out the call of your name but it seems drowned out anyways against his heavy boots hitting the ground, moving as fast as he possibly can to catch you. his knees crash into the metal stairs painfully in his movements to catch you in his arms but it’s nothing compared to how it feels to have you crashing into his body, your belly pressed against his chest, your trembling hands reaching for him as soon as they can.

he’s shaking too, despite how steady he is with the pressure he uses to hold you in this awkwardly crouched stance. not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you, but there’s no way you’re slipping from his grasp either.

“i’ve got you,” his voice is deep, barely above a whisper and with a quiver of lingering fear that makes you burst into tears even though you try so hard to hold them back.

the worried look on his face hurts more than the brunt of the few steps your body took. it’s nothing more than a fading throb of pain compared to cords of your heart strings being pulled more than they could handle right now and it’s all your fault - if you’d just - 

“i’m sorry,” you sob out, letting go of him to cover your weeping eyes. you feel him shift, keeping you in his arms with one strong arm at your back, the other under your knees, while he stands straight and easily holds you there, safe but maybe not so sound when you can’t stop crying. 

“sweetheart,” you can still hear the shake of his voice through how he’s still trying to remain calm for both of you while soothing your tears when you can’t find an ounce of it in yourself. “need you to tell me you’re okay,” because if you don’t he’ll be running with you in his arms as fast as he can to sigewinne.

you nod your head, doing all you can to get the words out. “’m okay.” you mumble through your tears. your wet hands move to grip onto the lapel of his vest, holding him tighter than before and you bury yourself in the comfort of his chest, taking in the good breath you can and it's so full of wriothesley you can’t help but sink further into his hold. “.. i’m s-sorry.”

he lets out a breath of relief as he leans down to kiss your temple. his lips and minty breath are warm, a balm to your overwhelming emotions and with a gentle voice he soothes you further, walking up the steps leading to his office. “it’s okay baby.” 

keeping you in his arms, he settles on the couch, letting your weary legs spread out over the cushion so he has a free hand to move the hair from your face, his tender and patient touch coaxing you to look at him once you’re ready. your eyes are puffy but still so beautiful, your breath starting to slow and returning to nearly normal at the feeling of his touch traveling from your face to your stomach, a large palm spread over the perfect curve of your baby bump.

his steady promise only calms you further, “everythings okay. we’re all okay.”

neuvillette:

after your nap on one of the many couches in the iudex office, a nap you hadn’t really expected to take when you stopped by to see neuvillette, you were surprised to wake alone. your trek here must have been more tiring than you thought since when you fell asleep you were resting on his arm and apparently hadn’t woken up when he tucked you under a blanket and put a pillow under your head.

when these items first made it here it was because of how many nights he spent sleeping in his office for a few hours in the late night before getting back to work. those nights had since stopped, especially since you found out you were pregnant, and now the comfortable blanket and pillow were more your own, these days only being used to cover your growing belly and rest your head comfortably when you inevitably fall asleep here.

but usually your husband was within reach when you awoke.

using your hands to help push yourself off the couch, you waddle towards the doors of his office, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and the moment the large doors open, sedene is at your side with a wide smile and even bigger violet eyes. after rather excitedly asking if she can do anything for you, she lets you know neuvillette left her with a message that he would be just outside if you needed anything and with a thank you and a smile you head towards the doors of the palais mermonia.

it’s not that you needed anything from him per say, you felt okay and you know most things you could have asked sedene for. you also know how busy of a man he is so maybe you should have waited for him to come back inside but he had assured you, after one tearful night in the beginning of your pregnancy, that needing him was okay too. 

so you let your heart lead you to him, past the workers and visitors with only one thing on your mind; being in his arms even if it's only for a few more minutes before he has to get back to work and you take your own leave, having a few more errands to run before the day ends.

outside is warm under the bright sun, a cooling breeze keeping it from being too hot. it takes your eyes a few moments to adjust to the difference in light but you still spot the silhouette of neuvillette. many would agree he is easy to spot in a crowd but for you it was for far different reasons than just his height and his title and even now when all you could make out was the blue hue of his coat like a sparkling shell in the sand that is your blurry vision, you know it’s him and you can feel the movement of your baby at the emotions that stir within you as you take the steps towards him.

except two steps in, still trying to blink away the last of the dots of sunlight in your adjusting vision, there is no ground underneath your feet. you try to reach for the hand extended out to you though you don’t know whose it is but aren’t able to reach it in time before you begin to fall.

neuvillette doesn’t excuse himself from the conversation he had brought out here in order to allow you to sleep without disturbance before he’s moving quickly through the small crowd of people in order to get to you, his heart in his throat and even though he can move faster than most of those around him would be able to see, it doesn’t feel like fast enough when he watches you stumble.

it’s a split second, a blur of azure and white that hardly even moves the air in its wake, a blink of an eye and neuvillette has crossed the courtyard outside the palais mermonia and captured you in his arms before you can fall any further. 

you can feel and hear a thundering heart beat but between the two of you, with how close you are to neuvillette, you don’t know if it’s yours or his. behind his shoulder you can see the once bright blue sky is now covered by gray clouds and when your eyes focus on the face of the beautiful man holding you, you can see why it’s suddenly turned so dark, that the storm behind his worried eyes mirrors the one that brews in the sky.

it makes you want to cry way more than the pain of your fall and before you’ve even realized it, you break out in a full blown sob, hiding your face in his chest. you can feel the world around you move, it’s like you're nearly weightless, floating through the air like you aren’t incredibly pregnant but you don’t care to pull away from your place against your beloved to look around you and before you know it, you’re being gently placed back on the couch you had been asleep on just a bit ago.

neuvillette settles on his knees in front of you and you bring your hands up to face to wipe your tears but they fall to the top of your belly instead when long slender fingers beat you to it, their gentleness and warmth on your cheek beyond comforting. you don’t even know when he had time to take his gloves off but his skin on yours is exactly what your startled heart needed to settle. 

and though it is helping his own to see you calming down and feel you leaning into his touch, neuvillette has hardly been able to take a breath. it felt like it was taking all of his strength just to keep his hands steady. lavender petalled eyes shining with ethereal blue haven’t been able to tear from you and take in every inch of your skin, the curve of your baby bump that you hold in your arms, the small scrape on your hands where you tried to catch yourself that hadn’t broken your skin, your wobbly lip as you take in a deep breath, and the wet lashes that kiss his skin with every tear he wipes away.

“i’m sorry..” you break the worried silence between you when his eyes meet yours. “i just..”

his thumbs caress along your cheeks in a slow back and forth motion and though he’s steadying with every passing moment, there’s a tremble to his voice that’s laced with relief and lingering worry. “you have no reason to be sorry, my dear. the most important thing is that you are okay.”

nodding your head, your hand with the small scrape comes up to cradle one of his and your fingers wrap around his palm, needing no strength at all to bring it down to your belly. his long fingers splay over your bump, taking in the feeling of you under his palms as your face leans into his other hand.  “we’re both okay,” you assure him with a heartfelt smile and see the room behind him brighten in the unimpeded sunlight once more.

zhongli:

liyue was always so lovely this time of night, quiet but still with cheerful life, the lantern light shining through the streets in a warm yellow hue and even the sea seemed to settle in the moons presence with gentle crashes of waves along the harbor. you waddle along the path leading to the main entrance of the harbor from the inner city, yes waddling because you don’t know how else to describe the way your very pregnant body moves with each step. 

you can’t wait to show the baby in your belly this beautiful city, their home that was built by the hands of their father and kept by the people he entrusted with it now that his life is full of another kind of duty, dedicated to you and your growing family. and you know zhongli is just as ecstatic, already telling your baby of this world in the night when he kisses your round stomach and thanks you for giving him such a gift; your shared love and what wonderful miracles came with it.

if you could, you’d hasten your step to try to meet zhongli sooner. with him being at work all day, you were more than anxious to see him. now more than ever you had been partially needy for him, much to his pleasure because he couldn’t deny the more.. dragon-like tendencies your pregnancy had brought out in him. 

today was a rare one when he wasn’t able to make it home for lunch and had to work later than usual but you knew you could find him at the harbor when his office turned up empty in your impatience to be with him. you just hoped you wouldn’t be interrupting his work when you did find him.

doctor baizhu had expressed the importance of taking walks in your pregnancy but the further along you got, the more tiring that had became and today you think you’re finding your current limit. which looks to be a little more than halfway down the steps to the harbor with no railing to lean on. holding your belly with one hand, you take it one step at a time, both feet to a step before taking the next, every inhale deep and trying to keep you steady, calm.

you’re nearly to the bottom when you spot your husband's tall figure standing out amongst the people scattered around the harbor. for as human as he made this form, he stood out to you as the most beautiful among them, ethereal in a way that reminds you he is the lord of geo but more importantly nowadays, yours.

not wanting him to worry because all you really needed was a moment, you try to cover up your aching exhaustion with a smile and a wave when you feel his eyes on you and watch him turn towards you but in your fatigue and maybe even distraction of finally seeing him, you miss calculate your step and before you can try to think of what to do aside from protecting your belly, you feel the world tip in your descent down the steps.

he felt your presence, like the most precious of stones that hummed with the same beat of his heart, that had been searching for him, and as soon as you were within vision, his golden eyes were on you but he had hardly gotten a chance to take a step in your direction when you misstepped and the world slows as you fall.

the wood of the harbor groans at the sudden change in the earth below the water that shakes in a strained cry and the change of pressure in the air feels like celestia was trying to freeze time, stop anything from moving until zhongli commanded it to restart.

time didn’t stop but in a blink zhongli is kneeling on the steps with you in his arms, concrete digging into his mortal flesh but he doesn't feel it over what's coursing through his body. it wasn’t going to fix or do anything in this situation but a golden shield floats all around, blocking out the rest of the world, the eyes you know are on you but there’s only one pair you can focus on. 

zhonglis pupils are thin slits that you swear are trembling, the honey flecks of his eyes glowing with godly power that steals the air from your lungs. its as if he’s trying to look through your very being to be sure you’re okay but not having ability to see past the tears in your eyes and how tightly you hold onto your stomach. you’re shaking, or he is. you really can’t tell which, maybe it was the entirety of liyue but there’s nothing you can see or hear of the world outside the shield he has around you and the rapid heartbeats you share as one.

you’re definitely shaking. you can see it in your fingers that reach for his face, soothing over his cheek as you try to push past the sob you want to break out into and find your words. you needed to calm him down before this became more of a scene, before he really did bring down harbor.

“i’m not hurt,” there is only a dull ache where your body hit the steps but you were able to keep it all away from the baby. shaking up though- yes, far more than you want to admit. you have hardly ever seen him like this but you can feel that both you and your baby are unharmed physically and once zhongli called down, so could you. “i’m okay,” you tell him and you mean it despite the fact you can feel the tears escaping your eyes without your consent. it's happened far too many times to count during your pregnancy but right now you really need it to stop. “i’m okay zhongli,” you urge.

the pain behind his eyes seems to soften, as though he might share in your tears too but the tremble around you begins to feel like it belongs to only the two of you once more. good, he’s calming down.

you aren’t sure why that makes you lose your composure even more though. perhaps now that you knew he would be okay, you could finally let go of everything you held back. or now that everything was coming back to normal, you realize the scene you’ve made all over your own mistake. whatever it was, it felt like a flood overwhelming your every emotion.

biting your bottom lip, you try to stop it’s tremble as you cling onto your husband. you can’t be bothered with how pitiful you sound right now. “please take me home..”

without a word, in a whirl of golden smoke and a matter of moments, you’re in your bedroom, the familiar scent of your home filling your nose and helping to calm your uneasy breaths. his strides are steady and long as he makes his way to the bed, sitting on the edge with you cradled in his lap, crying into his shoulder.

“my lily,” his voice quivers but he holds you with strength and love and tenderness. “please take a breath.” a large hand smooths down your back, feeling you hiccup as you try to follow his own breaths. resting a palm on your belly, splaying long golden fingers over your bump, you feel the comfortable, anchoring weight of his forehead on yours. “i’ve got you.”

♡♡♡♡♡

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#zhongli #neuvillette #wriothesley #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #neuvillette x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette angst #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact angst #wriothesley angst #genshin angst #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader

[bleuu-moon]

john pitches simon to you. 18+

it was john’s idea.

he saw the way you looked at simon, how your eyes lingered on him for too long, momentarily flickering up and down his frame whenever he entered your vicinity. his own wife gawking at his comrade. he should be pissed off, like any other man would, fuming, prepared to throw a fit fuelled by jealous rage.

but he only feels intrigue, temptation.

he knows it’s wrong, perverse, unprofessional. but the thought of seeing another man have his way with you, especially someone who he trusts, feeds something into his sexual appetite, and the only thing he can think of is how much he wants a taste.

john had taken to you away for the night, insisting that he wined and dined you after being away for some time. and he did, booked a room in a high end overpriced hotel, reserving a table in an italian he knew you’d like, and told you to wear that deep red dress he adores you in.

you half expected sex when you returned back to your room. but you never had it being with someone else, other than your husband, on your bingo card. never mind with someone who he deems a brother.

the truth is, john had quietly planned this weeks before. knowing that simon wouldn’t hesitate at his idea, pitching it to him on a random night in the middle of a desert. considering, after all, simon did want you first.

but you on the other hand, he was unsure about. you were loyal by default, one of the things he loves about you. he knows the distain that surrounds even the thought of betraying him, and it meant more than any fantasy you might hold. he knew he needed to make it clear to you, that he wanted it just as much.

so, whilst you were in the elevator on the way back to your room, he broke away from the desperate kiss that he had you lost in, his hands still placed on the side of your face.

“you like simon, don’t you?”

you weren’t sure if it was the wine, or the initial shock of johns spontaneous mention of his inferior, that caused your brain to pause, taking a while for his question to register. but before you could master up reply—

“don’t worry if you do, lovie. i see it. the way you look at him, the way he looks at you”

you remained pinned to the wall, as john grazed a thumb across your bottom lip. his eyes something darker than you’ve seen before.

you began feeling an itch of embarrassment, heat creeping up within your cheeks. but it soon wavered when you noticed the amusement plastered on his face. the glimmer that filled his eyes.

“it’s nice knowing he wants something that’s mine”

“john, what are you talking about?”

“would you think i’m mad if i told you i want to see you with him”

he faintly chuckled at your mouth falling slack, struggling to find words. before moving his hand down to the hem of your dress and tracing his fingertips up the bare skin on the your thigh, bunching up the silk as he did. finding the delicate lace that covered your pussy, gently rubbing two fingers over your clit. a soft moan escaping your lips.

“wanna see him touch you—”

his head dropped slightly, his lips to your ear.

a whisper, “fuck. so wet already”

before placing a tender kiss to the space under your ear.

“—kiss you—”

another kiss.

“—fuck you”

fuck—

fuck. you couldn’t help but let simon cloud your brain. your attraction to him was nothing but a natural, human reaction. one that was stupid, unnecessary, secret. but, the thought of him, touching every inch of you whilst john watched, fuelled something within you.

“would you like that, love?”

this wasn’t rational, it had strong potential to become a heavy regret. however, who were you to deny your john, after so many years of him finding pleasure out of your own, this was only just a repeat.

right?

maybe you weren’t thinking clearly, probably... most likely. but your mouth has a habit of moving quicker than your brain, and before you knew it, you breathed out,

“yes.”

#needed this out of my drafts #this was supposed to be so much longer #whoops #captain john price #simon ghost riley #price x reader #part 2 disgusting smut maybssss

[sweetiecutie]

Part three: daddy kink~ 🩷Kinktober Masterlist🩷

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni choking, spitting, daddy kink, size kink, omg this is nasty I like it

The sound of headboard hitting repeatedly against the wall filled clammy space of the room, your wanton moans along with Keegan’s heavy breathing bounced off tall walls around, going back straight into your ears.

Keegan’s mighty body was covering all of your smaller frame, his stomach was pressed against yours half-laying on top of you, allowing you to feel his abs flexing and relaxing with every deep breath he took. One tattooed hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides slightly, making it harder for blood to flow through your carotid artery. This made you lightheaded - your head buzzed with some undecipherable feeling, white hog of pleasure covering your eyes along with Keegan’s lengthy cock ramming in and out of your drooling cunt, causing your senses to sharpen and your toes curl in pure bliss.

Bright euphoria sparkled up and down your spine as grip of Keegan’s hand around your throat loosened - such needed oxygen rushed to your brain; your swollen lips parted in a silent moan, unseeing eyes half-covered by heavy lids, letting pleasure consume you whole. It all just felt too good - Keegan’s hips were angled perfectly against yours, his leaking tip was nudging that one spot deep within you, his thumb never stopping its abuse on your poor clit.

Hand around your neck came up to cup your chin - a thumb on one cheek and four fingers on the other squeezed your face slightly, preventing you from closing your mouth. Your vision came in focus just as you saw a thick white glob of spit falling from Keegan’s lips, next moment you felt its warmth on your tongue. His fingers covered your lips then, Russ leaned closer towards you, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured:

- Swallow, - his raspy voice made your pussy clench, eliciting a small grunt and then a laugh out of Keegan’s throat. You swallowed, opening your mouth afterwards to prove that you didn’t loose a single drop. - Thants my good girl, so eager to please daddy, just my perfect slut, yeah? Tell me.

- ‘m daddy’s slut, - you mumbled up incoherently, mind hogged with feeling your fourth orgasm bubbling up within your stomach.

- Louder. Scream it so our neighbours hear, - Keegan said, smirking at your fucked out expression. You both knew that your neighbours’ living room was right next to your bedroom - a nice middle aged couple, a balding man’s eyes always lingering on you for too long - there was no way they wouldn’t hear. - Come on, don’t make me wait.

- I’m daddy’s slut, fuck I’m daddy’s desperate slut! - you cried out, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your back arched off the bed, up into Keegan’s strong body. The corners of his cold blue eyes crinkled at your words, wide grin plastered across that handsome motherfucking face, enjoying how fucked-out you already were.

- That’s it, doll. Cum on that dick, make daddy happy, - his pace never once faltered, fucking you into and through your mind-blowing high, holding your shaking body tightly, keeping you right underneath him - just where you belonged. He only stopped when you began to writhe and whine under his touch, his calloused thumb rubbing against your swollen clit being too much to take.

Keegan straightened up, sitting on his haunches with his dick still buried deep inside your cunt, piercing eyes gazing down onto your pliant body, occasional post-coital shudders still tumbling though you. Warm hand splayed across your heaving tummy, covering almost all of it - with how fucking bigger he was than you - gliding up to your ribcage and sternum, turning left and gripping a handful of soft tit. You were laying still, trying to catch your breath, your eyes peeled open to look up at Keegan - his skin shone with thin layer of sweat, short strands of black hair stuck to his forehead, a few bright marks you left bloomed on that pale neck of his.

He smirked upon meeting your eyes; a sudden thrust of his hips made you yelp in both surprise and pleasure, drilling his dick even deeper into you.

- Come on, princess. Daddy’s not done with you yet. Still gotta let that dickhead of a neighbour know just who you belong to, right?

#kinktober #keegan p russ #keegan russ #cod keegan #keegan russ smut #keegan smut #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #call of duty keegan #cod mwii #cod mw #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #cod smut #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty writing #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty modern warfare

[sanatomis]

currently thinking about. . .

satoru falling asleep in your arms.

notes. sorry for being so inactive guys, uni is not being my friend rn. . .anyways, enjoy this little brain-rot ! <3

It wasn’t a surprise to you when Satoru told you he has trouble sleeping. The confession came four months after your relationship became official—which finally happened after many, many years of dancing around one another. In those four months, despite being attached at the hip, you have never, ever seen him fall asleep before you. 

A small, secret part of you hoped for that to change; That your darling would find peace in your presence, and sleep without any sign of trouble. In an ideal world, his nights that were previously filled with insomnia would make way for loving cuddles and some very needed shut-eye. Though, that thought may have been the hopeless romantic in you. 

Of course, none of that actually happened. Satoru still runs on approximately four to five hours of sleep a day, and with the occupation he holds, you think that’s far too little. So, despite your fleeting wish, your relationship didn’t change that part of him—you didn’t change that part of him. Though, even if you’re unable to do much about his (concerning) lack of sleep, you make his waking moments much more bearable. 

His nights are still long, and the time that he sleeps is still short, except now—he enjoys the time that he spends awake. In the middle of the night, while the rest of Japan is asleep, Satoru is awake. Doing what, you wonder? Holding you. It’s all he does until his (still very human) body knocks him out and forces him to rest—he holds you. 

Every night is different, even if his routine is the same. Sometimes he’s seated against the headboard with you in-between his legs, your cute little face squished against him. Other times he’s spooning you from behind, and snuggling into the crook of your neck as he finds comfort in your scent. Though, he plays favourites, and enjoys it most when you’re cuddled into his chest—he gets to shield you from the world, and gets to keep you safely tucked away into his arms. 

Satoru often says he could spend hours simply sitting with you in his arms. You never quite understood why, however. Until now. 

You’re laying on the couch, and it’s not even remotely close to midnight, but your sweetheart is asleep. The faint noise of the TV hits your ears, but it quickly gets overshadowed by the small snores your boyfriend lets out. You quickly bite your bottom lip—cooing over him would surely wake him up. 

Of course, he does this. Of course, he snores. 

You smile at the thought, and shake your head knowingly. Satoru lays on his stomach, in-between your legs, and with his head on your chest. Both his arms are wrapped securely around you, and you fight another smile when he cuddles further into you. His hair tickles your chin when he does so, but you’d rather die than ever have him move away. He’s so ridiculously cute. With his mouth slightly parted, with low breaths steadily leaving his lips, and with all signs of stress faded from his pretty face. 

You bring a hand up towards him. It’s a careful movement, as you’re a little scared of waking him up and depriving yourself of such a sweet sight. Your fingers gently caress his face; from his jawline, to his cheekbone, to his nose. Subconsciously, a little smile appears on his lips, and you feel as if you’re the luckiest person alive for being allowed to witness it. 

Satoru moves shortly after. Not because he’s awake, but because he senses it when you move your hand away from him, and even while asleep—he chases after it. He leans into your touch, and lets out a soft, happy sigh when he does. It seems he found himself at peace once again. 

“So cute, mochi,” you sigh lovingly, and gently start carding your fingers through his hair. You bring your lips to the top of his head, and press a sweet, lingering kiss to it. “You’re so cute. I get it now.”

Satoru is asleep, finally. He’s resting, and at ease, and, well, a little bit loud still as the snores continue on—but he’s so very adorable. 

It makes the next three hours of sitting completely still all worth it. You didn’t need the feeling in your legs, anyway.

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #hes so #he’s my lovie #i love him so much i need to give him the world #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo fluff

[leviismybby]

Sharing one bed with Levi during drip to Marley where you two are broken up, the tension in the air is thick, neither of you speaks. "I'll take the left side." You say, not in the mood for talking, Levi doesn't say anything just nods his head as she watches you sit on the bed. You can't help but glance over at him as he leans against the wall and looks outside of the window, as much as you hate to admit it, he looked good in that blue suit. Darting your eyes back to the selling, Levi looks over at you, his eyes lingering on your legs that were covered by stockings. Fuck he misses the feeling of them being wrapped around him as he- Levi says in his head, not letting those lewd thoughts enter his head. You were his ex and that's how it's going to stay. After a few minutes, you speak. "I have to change." Getting up from the bed, you make your way to your bag and pull out your nightgown. Of course, you packed that instead of just your normal pajamas but the silk was comfortable to sleep in.

Levi isn't looking at you, his back is turned on as he is too busy looking at the streets down below, wondering just how different the life was here than it was back on Paradis. You put your leg up on the chair to take the legging under your skirt off, you look back at Levi to make sure he isn't paying attention before rolling your skirt up, exposing your thigh as you roll one of the long stockings down. What you don't know is that Levi can see your every move in the mirror next to your bed, he knows he should look away but he can't, his eyes remain on you, on that beautiful body of yours as you undress. It isn't long before he feels his cock getting hard in his trousers, all he wanted to do was grab you, pin you to the bed and fuck your brains out but you were an ex. Just an ex...... So why does he find himself longing after that skin of yours, those lips of yours? However this night ends, he knows it won't without one of you lighting up that flame of intense passion and lust that never died out in the first place.

You take the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, Levi has been quiet and that makes you suspicious but you're too tired to deal with his attitude. Levi's eyes follow your back, the soft skin he is begging to touch, he waits for you to take off that last piece of clothing to see your naked body in the dim light of the room. To think that he knows it so well, every curve, every imperfection and it hits him then, he doesn't want another man to see your body. "I just have to put the nightgown on then you can turn around again." You say but before you can put the silk fabric on, Levi's next words send shivers down your spine. "There is no need for that." He takes your waist and spins you around, the look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine and makes your stomach turn. You open your mouth to say something and instead, Levi crushes his lips into yours, kissing you passionately. Every inch of your mind is screaming at you to push him away but your body gives in, your arms wrap around hi neck, welcoming his lips and his tongue. Your mind follows, letting him in completely.

And just like that, the old fire is burning more than it ever was before as your kiss turns messy, Levi's hands go down to your ass and he squeezes it, making you moan against his mouth. "Up." He says against your lips, his voice rough with lust, you jump up, wrapping your legs around his body. Levi carries you to bed, kissing and nipping on your neck as he lays you down on the soft sheets. He pulls away after a moment looking down at you, you're only in your underwear, he can't look away from you. This time you're the one who makes the move, you pull him down by his tie and kiss him, Levi grunts against your lips lying between your open legs, you feel how hard, how desperate he is for you. Your hands tig on his jacket, Levi takes it off, and he makes quick work of his tie and blouse, both found themselves on the floor next to the bed. You bite your lip, admiring his muscular form, he has got even more manly and you love it. Quickly, you reach for his belt, undoing is clumsily but before you can reach his zipper Levi stops you.

"Let me taste you first." Spreading your legs wider, Levi kisses down your body, he takes your nipple into his mouth, your body arching slightly at the action. He moved on, leaving a wet trail of his lips behind as he reached your underwear, he took them between his teeth and pulled them down, revealing your glistening wetness. "Fuck..." He grunts out before leaning down to lick your slit, your breath catches in your throat, hands immediately flying to his soft hair. His tongue starts to move more hungry, he doesn't let a single inch space him, the sloppy sounds of his mouth on your pussy and your moans are all that can be heard in the room. "Missed this fucking pussy so much." Levi mumbles taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it gently, your hips buck against his face, his hands are grabbing your thighs, running up and down the skin. Those gray sharp eyes look up at you, his tongue flickering against your clit, the sight of you like this is something he wants to save in his memory forever.

His mouth works wonders on you, leaving you to be a moaning mess, he doesn't mind you gripping his hair, it drives him more knowing that the pleasure you're feeling is because of him. He knows you, knows exactly how to drive you over the edge and just when you were about to hit that delicious peak, he pulls away leaving you whining. A string of salvia is connecting his lips to your pussy as he pulls away. Levi licks his lips, kissing your twitching pussy, his mouth kisses up again. "I can't wait anymore. I need to fuck this cunt of yours." You nod watching as he pulls his pants and underwear down, his hard cock coming into your view. He lets you pump him in your hand a couple of times before he positions himself against your wet entrance and pushes in, a slight gasp leaving his lip. "Oh yeah...shit..." His head falls back, his eyes rolling at the back of his head, there is nowhere he would be more than right here like this.

With a deep breath, he starts to slam into you, his cock sliding into your warm walls. "Yes, Levi!" You moan, your hands on his lower back feeling each move of his hips. His eyes are filled with determination, he is focused on one thing and that thing is fucking you. Your voice gets louder and louder as his thrusts get faster and faster, each slam on his hips sending a different wave of pleasure through you. "Harder Levi! I want my harder!" He places his hands on your hips, giving you what you wanted, fucking you harder on his cock. The bed starts to creak under the two of you, the wooden headboard slamming against the wall. "Fuck yes! Right there Levi!" Your hands take hold of his forearms, feeling his biceps flex under your fingertips. "Yeah? Right here?" He says through gritted teeth, pounding you deeper and harder, making you both lose yourself in the intensity of the moment. This wasn't the right place nor the right time given that there is someone in the room next to yours and they are most likely hearing you two have sex right now. But it feels too good for the two of you to stop.

Levi's hands drop from your hips and he leans down against your body, kissing you on the lips while moving his hips, hitting deep inside of you. The kiss is sloppy, you feel the way his hands are gripping the sheets beside your head as he continued to fuck you mercilessly. Pulling away from the kiss, Levi grunts when your warm walls squeeze around his cock, he takes hold of the shaking headboard for support with both of his hands and then starts to thrust into you so hard that you scream out his name, your nails scratch down his back causing Levi to hiss but his hips only get more aggressive. "Fuck. This fucking pussy will be the end of me." The grip on his bad is hard, so hard that the wood starts to break at one point and you aren't even surprised, he has that habit. You feel his cock twitching inside of you as he hits that deep spot. "Yes Levi! I am cumming! I am cumming!" You yell, Levi spits on his fingers and starts to run your clit while keeping up his harsh pounding.

"Levi!" You scream and then squirt all over him, Levi stops moving for a second. "My my...I forgot that my girl was a squirter." Resuming his movements, Levi takes hold of the headboard again, feeling his orgasm built up. "Oh shit. I'll fucking cum.." With one last hard thrust, he quickly pulls out and spills his seed all over your stomach. Both of you close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of each other. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you. Levi takes hold of your hosp again without even asking you. "Are we going for round two?" You smile and Levi smirks slightly. "No. We are going for ten more."

And that's exactly how it was. You two ignored the glaring looks Jean and Connie sent your way the next morning. When Hange informed you later on that they had a room next to you and Levi you felt bad but Levi just whispered in your ear. "Then they better prepare because I'll fuck you even harder later tonight."

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[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (2) - In Between

Chapter summary: Astarion plagues you day and night, and now you are faced with making a decision in regards to this arrangement...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. PiV s*x. Innuendo. S*xual tension. Blood. Blood drinking.

Word count: 5.4k

Chapter 1 . Series Masterlist . Ao3

It was the growing pressure along the dip of your back that roused you from your slumber.

As it trailed down your spine, you began to embrace the familiar touch of coldness laced with tenderness.

Astarion.

A carefree sigh escaped your lips and you arched slightly, savouring his touch. The feel of your warm skin contrasting with his cold one never failed to have you craving more of it.

The bed suddenly dipped as he settled between your legs, his growing erection pressing gently at your entrance.

"I want to be inside you again."

You immediately nodded with a content sigh, resting your head on your pillow, heart pounding faster and faster in anticipation.

It had been way too long since you'd last been showered with his affection on such an intimate level.

A loud gasp tore from your lips as his cock began to stretch you further with each passing second, and you angled your hips, allowing him to bottom out with ease, letting the most delicious sigh of relief you had ever heard from him.

It was as if he had longed for this for far too long, seeking a comfort that only you could provide.

As if Astarion truly belonged deep inside of your being.

Body and soul.

He slowly shifted above you, until his lips were grazing the shell of your ear. "Let me break you."

At first, your brain didn't register his words. Pleasure fogged your mind and he had your eyes flutter shut from his first hard thrust.

Strangled cries echoed in the room each time he'd slide out only to ram back in, his hips meeting yours at a hypnotic pace.

You balled your fists, gripping the bed sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.

He dragged the sharp fangs along the exposed skin of your neck and a shiver traveled down your entire body. In truth, you adored having him feed on you as he fucked you, just so you could feel his cock becoming stiffer from your blood rushing through him.

You expected him to sink his teeth into you, but that moment never came.

"I will break you."

That instantly snapped you out of your lust-filled haze.

His words dripped with poison, but the tone wasn't his.

This wasn't your Astarion.

Panic began to take root as tentacles began to enter your field of vision. Fear spread like wildfire, suffocating and freezing you in place. Your chest felt heavy as if being compressed by an invisible force, and your mind caged you in, unwilling to let you fight against the impending sense of despair.

You somehow managed to find your voice amidst the turbulence as a ragged scream tore from your tightening throat. "NO!"

And then… nothing.

Your eyes flew open at once, and everything went silent and still all of a sudden.

The faint golden rays of the morning sun hit your flushed skin, and you rolled onto your back, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Your breathing had become erratic and a thin layer of sweat coated your face.

Another nightmare.

They had become a common occurrence as of late, causing you to dread the night-time just as Astarion dreaded the day-time, albeit for different reasons.

Your mind kept playing tricks on you, ensuring that he wouldn't leave your thoughts even in your sleep.

It didn't help that these nightmares kept getting progressively more vivid. You had nearly forgotten how he had once felt inside you, and now you were being reminded of that sensation by your own brain.

The rhythmic throbbing between your legs eventually subsided, but the tight grip of frustration lingered on.

You let out a low grunt, wiping the tears from your face, vaguely praying to the gods above to cease this endless torment.

It had only been three days since you last saw Astarion in front of you, yet he had been visiting you in your dreams ever since.

A soft knock on the door had you shift to sit upright, trying to find your composure in record time.

"May I?"

Gale.

You took a deep breath and scrambled out of bed to open the door to your room, fastening your robes around you.

He smiled warmly, and you returned the gesture, motioning for him to walk in.

"There is some leftover porridge by the fireplace."

You winced lightly as realization hit you. "Oh, it was my turn to cook…"

"Think nothing of it," he gestured dismissively. "I do enjoy it, as I'm sure you're aware. I may not be able to provide the finest meals in Baldur's Gate, but I do not lack the passion to make up for it."

Your heart fluttered at his cadence.

Gale was such a comforting company to have around. His words would often envelop you like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"Thank you," you said sincerely.

His smile wavered and you saw concern settle on his face. "Are you well? Another nightmare?"

You moved to sit on a nearby chair, slumping into it and rubbing your temples with both hands.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" He asked, sitting across from you.

Did you? You weren't sure. He had known of your nightmares from the start, but was unable to provide much relief.

After all, he wasn't the root of this issue.

"Not really, no," you said. "But I'd welcome any news from Waterdeep."

He nodded with a sympathetic smile.

"Right. The newest letters carried hopeful news. I am to meet with someone who might be willing to cast some light on this Wish spell."

Hope blazed anew inside you, and it was as if the remnants of your nightmare had completely vanished.

"When? Who is it? What can I do to help?"

Gale chuckled. "Easy, my dear friend. All in due time. I am to leave for Waterdeep in a fortnight. My connection is well acquainted with this person, and that shall facilitate the process. Well, hopefully," he quickly added.

You leaned forward on the table, grasping at any and every sliver of information.

"Should I go with you?"

"I reckon being accompanied by a sorcerer might not work in our favour," he said with a hint of caution.

The eternal rivalry between wizards and sorcerers had come in between you two quite often at the start of your journey, but you had managed to work through what pulled you apart, and focus on what didn't.

Sadly, the same couldn't be extended to the rest of Faerûn.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course. But you must promise to keep me informed at all times."

An affectionate smile curled his lips. "That I can do."

Then you felt the sudden jab of pessimism settle in your mind, like a dark cloud heavy with rain.

"Do you think we can do this?"

He tapped his chin. "I do believe so. It is not a matter of skill, I suppose. The difficulty, for now, lies in our ability to get the scroll in the first place."

Wish spell scrolls were extremely rare to come by, and even then, the chances of success were very, very slim. The possibility of the wish backfiring was too great for regular people to even dare mess with it.

So you had all decided to keep it simple at first: granting Astarion the ability to walk in the sun once more.

He had tried to have his vampiric hunger be included, but Gale had grounded his hopes, alerting that the more complex the wish, the more unstable the result could be.

Silence had settled around both of you, but you could tell Gale was eyeing you with utmost curiosity.

"You know, I never quite understood what happened between you and Astarion back in Moonrise Towers," he said after a while, his tone soft and careful. "You two seemed rather close, and all of a sudden it was as if this invisible wall had come in between."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart clench as the memories resurfaced.

"It was for the best. We managed to salvage our friendship, and cast aside the foolish hopes of something that could never be." Your words felt almost too heavy to utter, but you managed not to falter. "I suppose that's all there is to it, really. We were never meant to be more."

Your voice had nearly cracked as you pressed your lips together, realising that lying really wasn't in your nature. Gale could probably see right through your miserable attempt at downplaying your feelings for him.

But this was your reality now: a constant effort of trying to deceive yourself, because facing the truth would be a far too painful alternative.

His voice still echoed in your head from time to time, cutting deeper and quicker than any blade.

"I had a plan. A nice, simple plan – seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy – instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. All I had to do was not fall for you... which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart."

"So you chose to be a friend instead of alover."

You leaned back, suddenly feeling quite nauseous. "Yes."

"And was that what you truly wanted?"

You paused momentarily, your eyes meeting his kind ones.

His question had caught you off guard, but the answer seemed simple and straightforward enough.

"No," you said sincerely, averting your gaze as a wave of sorrow washed over you. "But it was what he needed."

"I see," he drawled, shifting his chair closer. "I am no stranger to the unfortunate consequences of having your heart tied to someone you shouldn't long for."

You didn't reply, fearing any words might betray your calm demeanour.

"But I am also no fool – not a blind one, at least. This arrangement you two have seems to be taking a toll on you," he went on, his compassionate gaze never wavering. "Now, I have made peace with the fact that Astarion seems to crave distance from the rest of us, but do not ask me to turn a blind eye as I see a dear friend walking down the same torturous path I once treaded."

Whether it had been his relatable words, or the pent-up frustration finally reaching its limit, you weren't sure, but your chest tightened and the familiar sting in your eyes nearly made you crumble.

The first tear rolled down your cheek, but you still didn't dare speak.

This time, Gale took one of your hands in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Some people who enter our lives and aren't meant to stay, but they do leave a part of themselves with us, so we have a chance to see it as a learning opportunity. I believe this might be the case with you two."

You cleared your throat, feeling the uncontrollable urge to defend your bond with him. "We are still friends, Gale."

"Yet your relationship amounts to little more than a transaction."

Your eyes widened and your lips quivered.

"Am I wrong?"

Another tear, but you could only blink at him.

He squeezed your hand again. "Pardon if I am overstepping any lines, but I am merely concerned. I believe that a good friend tells you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear."

He was right.

By the Gods was he right.

And that was what made this conversation suffocating and nearly made you loathe Gale in the process.

Astarion had lured you in with his honeyed words, keeping your focus on him and yearning for far more than you could possibly think you might deserve.

He had lured you in by giving you what you wanted, and by the time you were too far gone to make out your wants from your needs, it was already too late.

Even now.

It was but a repetition of the same cycle.

And everyone around you could see that but you.

You immediately yanked your hand away and rose to your feet, not wishing to prolong this conversation. Gale glared at you with a pained expression, but said nothing.

"I'll talk to him about this new information regarding Waterdeep," you said, a cold shiver running through you. "I'm sure he will be delighted."

Whatever 'being delighted' meant to Astarion these days.

You wiped the wet trails of tears from you face and offered him a forced smile. "I thank you for your advice. I just… I can't think rationally on an empty stomach."

He nodded in understanding. "Wholeheartedly agree, my friend."

Gale followed suit as you walked out to grab a serving of porridge, only to find Lae'zel sitting at the table, sharpening her sword the tenderness and care you'd see in lovers.

"Not at the table," Gale said in a disapproving tone. "Your sword hasn't seen battle in very long. Give it a rest."

Lae'zel narrowed her eyes dangerously, still gliding the whetstone along the sharp edge. "It might if you allow me to handle that vampire spawn once and for all." She turned her head to you, as if awaiting for your words of approval. "Say the word and he'll be no more."

Her protectiveness over you flared so fiercely it could light up the entirety of Baldur's Gate.

"Thank you," you said with a faint smile, moving to sit by her side and accepting a bowl of porridge from Gale. "But I am quite sure I can handle a vampire spawn, should the need arise. What sort of sorcerer would I be if not?"

"The sort whose reason is clouded by matters of the heart, I'd wager," he said nonchalantly.

Lae'zel nodded, the screeching sound of metal on metal piercing through your ears.

But you were already miles away, buried in your thoughts.

Maybe Gale was right.

Maybe this arrangement had already run its course, and it was now time to put an end to it.

He could always just feed on wild animals while waiting for a solution to his vampiric condition.

It wasn’t as if he'd miss or even care that you were no longer around.

Perhaps it was what he truly wanted and needed.

Night enveloped the busy streets of Baldur's Gate, and your boots splashed the remnants of rainwater that spread across the pavement.

You had pulled your hood up, not seeking to draw any unwanted attention as your feet steered you along the crowd of merchants and Flaming Fists who kept an ever watchful eye over the northeast part of the city.

In reality, you had convinced yourself that you were merely seeking Astarion out for his own benefit: deliver the promising news from Gale and Waterdeep.

But it was an excuse, as always.

Your heart always stammering hard against your ribcage

As you approached the entrance to The Blushing Mermaid, you saw a pair of eyes follow your every step.

They belonged to that woman.

She was standing by the entryway, her heavy hair kept in a neat and intricate updo, and her pleasant face twisting into a knowing smile. She seemed vastly out of place when in comparison to the first time you had crossed paths with her.

You had decided to ignore her, but she clicked her tongue loudly, drawing your attention.

"He's not here."

Your neyes narrowed and you frowned. "Do you speak for him?"

She smiled wider. "He doesn't seek my company for my words."

A growing wave of anger began to rise inside you. In truth, you were sure she was merely attempting to get a rise out of you, but you wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Where is he, then?"

She shrugged, checking her nails with a pout. "He might have mentioned going out for a night hunt?"

Your blood immediately ran cold.

Her dark eyes held a glimmer of malice in them. "Meddling with a vampire spawn is quite invigorating, but frowned upon," she said with another click of her tongue. "Although, I hear that the Duke is quite forgiving when it comes to close friends."

You took a step closer, lowering your voice. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know of you. The hero of Baldur's Gate. You're not exactly discreet, dear."

To be fair, you weren't surprised she had recognised you, you were simply unsure of why your identity even mattered, or Astarion's for that matter.

"Then you should tread lightly."

"Oh, no need to threaten me," she scoffed, waving her hand dramatically. "I'm not your enemy."

A few commoners walked past you to enter the tavern's door, and you scooted to the side, seeking to stay away from prying ears.

What did this woman even want? Was she merely toying with your time? Was she fishing for something?

"You intrigue me," she carried on, adjusting the cape across her shoulder. "Especially because of him."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"What of him?"

"He won't feed on me."

Good.

Her face dropped into a faux pout. "I wondered why a vampire spawn would turn down a free meal, especially since they are known to have such an insatiable appetite," she said before pausing abruptly. "And then I realised why."

"Why?"

She chuckled. "Well, because of you."

Your collected composure faltered ever so slightly, and she seized the moment like a seasoned predator.

"You must be really special if he's willing to resist such temptation."

This made you snap, gritting your teeth. "Does this conversation have a purpose, or are you just wasting my time?"

"Maybe both? The point is, have the decency to put out the fires you start, at least."

Now you were utterly lost and vaguely wondered if she had been indulging in some alcoholic beverages, but her breath didn't reek of anything other than a citrus scent.

You cocked an eyebrow at her. "What does that even mean?"

It was her turn to look rather impatient. "A few nights ago. You came in, let him feed on you, and then you left his cock painfully hard. That was very rude of you."

She was definitely mocking you.

Your temper exploded all at once and you grabbed her by the shoulder, shoving her hard against the wall, and she let out a theatrical yelp that earned the attention of a group of Flaming Fists strolling nearby.

Fuck.

"Is something the matter?" One guard inquired, approaching from the side, shield in hand.

You promptly let go of her, and she straightened herself up with that forced smile of hers you had already grown to detest.

"Oh, not at all, kind sir," she chuckled with the easiness of someone who was well versed in the art of deception. "My friend was just squatting a bug."

You readjusted your hood, side-glancing at the man who didn't seem all that convinced and tying to muster your most believable innocent smile.

The guards exchanged a few looks and resumed their patrol, disappearing into the distance.

As soon as they were out of sight, you were on her again, close enough that only she could hear you. "You don't know the first thing about him."

"And do you?"

Your lips were pressed tightly together, as you struggled to keep yourself more lunging at her.

This woman had seemed so harmless when you had first crossed paths with her, but now you could see that she was an expert in antagonising others to her own amusement and for whatever reasons.

Her beauty was her saving grace, and definitely the only reason why Astarion had picked her in the first place.

She was meaningless.

You spun around, knowing all too well that lingering would only result in someone getting badly injured, and she just wasn't worth the hassle.

As you began treading away from the tavern, you heard her singsong voice calling behind you.

"Leaving already? Won't you join me as we wait for him? I'm quite sure he wouldn't mind sharing."

You clenched your fists so tight that your nails were digging into your palms, threatening to draw blood.

Around you, a few heads turned as curious stares followed your every step.

You'd just have to postpone delivering him the news.

Not that it surprised you in the slightest.

It was as if the Gods above were having a laugh at how much you craved being in his presence, and had collectively decided to sabotage your every attempt.

They had just sent that wretched woman.

What would be next on their list? Memory loss?

The heat that had risen inside your body began to simmer with each step you took through the narrowing streets.

As you were about to round the corner that would lead you across the bridge, a light tug at your trousers made you flinch and jolt in distress, bringing you to a halt.

"A couple of gold pieces, please… for my supper."

You looked down at a scruffy looking man who was kneeling on the floor, hands clasped together in a plea as he shivered.

Usually, you would spare a few pieces, but something felt terribly off.

Maybe it was the fact that there was a faint hint of deceit on his face.

Or probably because he was slowly reaching down for the knife at his hip.

Fuck.

This was no beggar.

"I don't have my coinpurse with me. Apologies."

It was foolish of you to expect that to be the end of it, but you really did not want to draw any unwanted attention. Even with Wyll's protection, the city was still crawling with mercenaries and folk who wouldn't hesitate to harm you if they knew who you truly were.

You began to take large steps away from him, focused on putting as much distance between you two as possible without seeming too alarmed.

From the corner of your eye, you were able to spot movement, and you were now aware he was following you.

What an unfortunate turn of events.

You cursed inwardly, sliding your dagger from its sheath, hoping you'd be able to lose him before actually having to use it.

"I know you have some gold on you."

His taunt only served as motivation to speed up your pace.

The passers-by that filled the street would not lend a helping hand, as it could potentially backfire on them, so they merely moved out of the way, turning a blind eye.

Your hands heated up as you pondered which spell you could cast without it being a predicament.

His steps hurried behind you so fast that by the time you were ready to utter the invocation, he was already on you, shoving you harshly into a dark alleyway, effectively breaking your concentration.

Just as you were about to swing your blade in response, the man was hauled from you, and you heard the hiss of a dagger being drawn.

You would recognise it anywhere.

The bandit was now being pressed against a wall by a very feral Astarion, who was ready to splatter the floor with his innards.

"No!" You called out, as you saw a few commoners gathering at the entrance of the alleyway, whispering to each other.

Guards would be here soon.

And, at this point, your worries were not for you, but for Astarion.

If he happened to kill this man, it would be an unwanted situation to circumvent even with Wyll's aid.

"I'm being attacked! Help! I'm but a poor-"

Astarion gripped him by the hair and rammed his head hard into the stonewall, his dagger pressed against his neck. "Be quiet, or I will bleed you dry."

He began to struggle against Astarion, but all to no avail. No amount of physical prowess would rival his.

You had to do something quick before things escalated beyond a point of no return.

Panic took over you, and you raised one hand, waving it faintly. "Impero tibi!"

A flash of light pink swirled around the squirming man, and he went limp all of a sudden, flopping against the surface before dropping to the ground with a loud thud as Astarion let go of him.

Casting Sleep had been the safest option.

He glared at him with disgust. "Filthy pig."

Your breath was coming out in short breaths, which drew his attention.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was soft and held concern.

You shook your head, reaching out for his arm. "We need to leave before we get company."

The commotion nearby had escalated, and people were gasping and murmuring, pointing at them.

There was nothing more aggravating than a scared crowd, and you had no intention of sticking around for the aftermath.

Astarion didn't need to be told twice and quickly helped you climb up the wall, gripping your waist firmly with both hands.

"I see you haven't lost any of your agility." He teased.

You rolled your eyes, gripping the edge and hoisting your entire body at once, squatting to avoid any more intrusive glares.

"THEY ARE RUNNING AWAY!"

Astarion gracefully joined your side in a blink of an eye before anyone below could reach him.

You lead the way, trying your hardest to keep the balance as you hurried along the ledge and hopped onto a surrounding rooftop.

"Darling, you really must hone your stealth skill," he whispered behind you. "Absolutely appalling as ever."

Trust Astarion to deliver the most inconvenient remarks when you least needed them.

"Well, I'm so sorry if I cannot afford to worry about being graceful right now."

"It's an art form," he shot back condescendingly. "I'd be surprised if the entirety of Baldur's Gate didn't awake from all that loud thumping."

You glanced at him over your shoulder only to see him grin playfully.

"Do you ever shut up?"

His smile only deepened. "Are you offering?"

Your face blazed.

Impossible and infuriating man.

Both of you neared the edge of the rooftop. You surveyed your surroundings to make sure the path below was safe.

All clear.

But before you could voice it, Astarion jumped down, landing perfectly on both feet without a sound.

Of course.

He glanced up, raising both arms at you. "Come down, darling. I'll catch you."

You scoffed. "No need. I can do it."

"Suit yourself."

Heaving a deep sigh, you approached the edge and looked down below before plunging off the tiles.

You weren't nearly as gracious as he had been, but you still managed to stick your landing.

"I'm no damsel in distress." You said teasingly.

He took a step closer to you, reaching for your hood, and slowly pulling it back to reveal your face.

"Just a damsel, then."

You stared into his crimson eyes, as your heart broke into a faster pace.

His hands lingered near your neck, and you could swear his face was getting closer.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

"Also, that Sleep spell? You are fortunate I can't be affected by it, otherwise you'd have to carry me out of there." He said, cocking his head to the side. "That would be a fun challenge, I suppose."

His cold fingertips traced your pulse point, and you wished you could be strong enough to pull away from him, but he was too easy to get lost into.

No. He was definitely getting closer.

You could see every crease and wrinkle on his handsome face.

You could see the faint curve of his nose.

You could see his lips parting lightly.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You shook your head, pulling yourself from your thoughts at once, and pushing his hands away with a scowl.

"That's exactly why I cast it," you said, clearing your throat. "How did you find me?"

He took a step back, looking rather bored. "Ava told me you went looking for me. It was not hard tracking you down."

So that was her name.

"Am I that indiscreet?"

He chuckled lightly, fangs peeking through. "Not at all. I just happen to be well acquainted with your blood, so I can detect its trail quite easily."

Oh.

"I wasn't expecting your visit this soon, so you must indulge my curiosity," he went on, voice dripping with honey. "Or did you just miss me?"

You adjusted the cloak around your neck, deflecting his bait. "I think you should be wary of your friend Ava."

He quirked an elegant brow. "How so?"

"She seems strange… or, at the very least, quite… unbalanced."

Astarion clicked his tongue. "Oh, darling… are you sure this is not just you being jealous?"

You growled in annoyance, earning a laugh from him.

"She wants you to feed on her."

"And I won't, so I fail to see why that bothers you."

You shot him a stern look. "She knows who I am and, to be quite frank, seemed rather intrusive. Dangerous, even."

"… are you implying that I'm the damsel in distress here?" He gasped dramatically. "Whatever will I do? What a pity. I'm rather fond of her."

His ability to not take things as serious as he should never failed to astound you.

It was truly one of his most infuriating traits and one that truly gnawed at your nerves.

"I'm merely warning you. I don't trust her. You are free to do whatever you see fit, of course."

"That's rich coming from you," he said in a low chuckle. "You should know better than to wander the streets of the city all alone at night, yet it didn't deter you."

"Excuse me?" You snarled, taking full offense. "I had to talk to you about something that concerns you!"

This was what Astarion did these days. Within a few minutes of initiating a conversation, he would find a way to upset or offend you. Usually both.

"So what is it? Have you come to alter the arrangement?"

I want to end it, you nearly spat out.

He drew near once more. "Because I'm all open to having our encounters happen more frequently."

Your eyes narrowed incredulously as Astarion tipped his head. "You fed on me three days ago!"

"My hunger is ever present," he immediately rebuked. "Feeding on your blood allows me to think and act more clearly for a short period, but it is not enough. It never is."

A pang of discomfort ran through your body as his words hit you.

"Then how are you able to resist feeding on her?"

His jaw clenched. "Because I made an arrangement with you, and if I break it then you won't allow me to feed on you ever again."

Your mouth dropped open at his sincerity.

"You were my first – your blood was my first, and you have no idea how hard it is to resist you."

"But you've tasted the blood of other thinking creatures…"

He sighed impatiently. "And nothing comes close. Absolutely nothing. I wish I had control over this preference, but I do not."

In truth, you hadn't expected this. You were aware of his hunger and how your blood affected his body in many ways, but you were unaware of its extent.

He was close to you again.

Too close.

He lifted one hand to trace your jaw, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. "So what is so important that would have you venture through these dark streets at night just to see me?"

You shuddered under his touch.

You wish you could find your voice and tell him of Gale's recent update.

And that you had it in you to put an end to this arrangement. It would also allow for you to properly rekindle your friendship as it used to be, and address some of the things that tormented him.

Besides, he could just feed on wild animals for the time being.

He didn't need you.

You were frozen in place as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb. "Did you know that I can taste the arousal in your blood?"

Oh, Gods…

He suddenly gripped your hand and brought it close to his own lips, and you saw a trail of dark liquid pouring faintly from a cut in your thumb.

"Astarion, we shouldn't…"

You gasped as he wrapped his lips around you, tongue darting around your bruised skin.

His eyes fluttered shut as he began to suckle gently, drawing more blood from the wound.

Your heart must have skipped several beats in the next few seconds from just staring at his pretty face twisting in pleasure.

Suddenly, you spotted a flash of gold darting behind him, but were too transfixed to care.

He kept lapping at you hungrily, shooting jolts of pleasure to your core.

But the increasing sound of mental clashing on pavement was what made you pull from him at once.

He looked utterly confused as his brows furrowed together, blood coating his lower lip.

Another flash of gold entered your field of vision.

"Astarion!"

And then everything went black.

Masterlist . Series Masterlist . AO3

Next chapter

#astarion x female reader #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 smut #astarion x mc #astarion fic #astarion bg3

[azullumi]

“there’s so many fishes in the sea but i never learned how to swim” ; aventurine

summary — a guide to pining presented by yours truly, aventurine.

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, secret pining but like aventurine can be too obvious, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons

tagging — @toorurs (sorry boo i forgot to tag 😭)

note — i know i could have done better with this one, my brain wasn’t just working and im also on a trip. this is day 6 and 7 of writing for him until i get him !!

Aventurine yearns for connection yet he erects tall walls of self-preservation, fearing vulnerability, attachment, and betrayals (the shadow of his fear of losing someone dear to him all over again will haunt and follow his steps). He’s always distant, seemingly detached to the people around him like a leaf that never touches the ground as the wind carries it away; his only drive for relationships is due to mutual-benefit or a give-and-take situation. So what happens to him when he falls and yearns for someone?

Love is violence, he knows that but his eyes would stumble after your shadow and he wonders what it feels like to live in it. He’ll lie under your gaze and he’ll dream what it feels like to be seen, what it feels like to be loved by you. He will seek ways to be close to you but not close enough that you’ll know the rhythm of his heart spells out the letters of your name. In each moment of longing, it is all tinged with a taste of bitterness as this yearning, though desired, is a precarious precipice—everything will crumble and fall once he speaks about it.

So he settles with stolen looks with wishful thinking that you’ll cast a glance at his direction, he settles with the small things at first before he begins to become selfish—he’ll make up reasons just to see and talk to you, think of excuses just so he could linger a little longer in your presence. He’ll make up games and initiates bets where he knows he’ll always win but would let himself lose anyways; winning or losing didn’t matter to him in those moments with you.

“Go ahead, guess.”

You fell into a deep thought, staring at the two hands balled into fist that are in front of you. Your eyebrows were scrunched, trying to listen to the voice of your instinct but everything was silent inside your head.

“Take your time. After all, whoever loses has to follow what the winner wants.” Aventurine spoke and you could discern the hint of amusement in his tone as he watched you fall into some sort of predicament—all you had to do was to choose which one of his hands was the coin in. It was just one of the simple games you’ll play with him every time you see each other. Come to think of it, his visits to your department have been quite frequent despite having no particular business, official or not.

“Shh. I’m thinking.” You answer, lifting your index finger to your mouth in a hush gesture. It took you a few moments of silence and thoughtful humming before you pointed at his left hand, “That one.”

But he opens his left hand to show nothing on his palm, his right hand revealing the coin at the same time, and you are hit with a wave of disappointment. A chuckle slips past his lips and you just sighed—there was nothing you could do but to admit defeat. “Well then, what do you want me to do?”

Aventurine, without a single second of hesitation, answered. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

The thing is you could have laid yourself bare to him, you could tell him all of the sins that taint your skin, the words left unspoken in your mouth, the growing mold in your lungs. He’ll see the rot and will choose to stay, he’ll see the cobwebs and dusty bookshelves, and he’ll love you still, he’ll see the torn wallpapers and ruined floors and he’ll still adore you (he’ll find you where you are most ruined and he will love you there).

(His hand would gently tug and hold at the cuffs of your sleeves, letting the warmth and closeness of his touch linger in hopes that you’ll see him in the sun that holds you gently.)

Many people claim that they love you but do they adore you the same way as he does? Would they cross bridges for you when he’ll swim oceans just to see the way your eyes catch the light? Would they traverse the stars just to listen to the sound of your laughter? 

(He’ll see the dirt in your hands and will help you wash it off when others would simply walk away.)

He’ll think of you as he laid in his bed, satin sheets all wrinkled and messy as his pillows scattered around his form, and he wondered how nice it would be to have your things among his. to have the smell of your perfume mixed with his, to have you in his arms before he sleeps (he has dreams of his dreams and you’re always in it).

All this yearning, longing, and adoration will turn into a sword that will make him bleed the more he holds on to it and you’ll stay in his thoughts as the blood will run dry on his being. He simply hopes he crosses your mind once in a while so that he won’t feel pathetic for thinking of you all the time.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#honkai aventurine #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #star rail aventurine #aventurine x you #honkai x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai fluff #honkai imagines #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #star rail #honkai star rail x you #azul.writes

[bandgie]

stray kids as tattoo artists? I read a fic on AO3 once where Jisung Chan and Felix all owned a tattoo parlour (called Red Lights hehe) and reader worked there and got brought into their OT8 poly relationship and it lives rent free in my brain.

But anyway, what do you think they would be like as tattoo artists? Who would tattoo what body parts? Who would fuck you in the chair, who would give you head/let you suck them off, and who would force themselves to remain professional even though you can see they're hard?

wait I so need the fic if you have it plzzz

MDNI 18+ under the cut

fucking you

lee know - you have such a shy yet aroused look the moment you're in the chair. he'd touch you lightly at first, knuckles bumping against your breasts to clean the skin for the tattoo. your breath would hitch, your eyes would stare into his and you'd bite your lip. all it takes is a little nod from your end and he's undoing his belt

hyunjin - no because he never really does this. he's usually so professional, even with the hungry eyes staring at him, but there's just something so sexy about you. maybe it's the tattoos you already have, slightly faded and in need of a touch up. once he establishes that you are, in fact, wanting him the same way he wants you, he'd go to the front door of his shop and flip the sign to 'closed'

Seungmin - you'd have to beg him for it ngl. you're a regular at his parlor and he just loves how flustered you get. Seungmin doesn't mind teasing you for your session, but you just cant take it anymore. you'd make him move the stencil over and over again just under your boobs because 'its just not right' and you'd offer to take off your shirt so it's easier for him. that's the last straw for him and he'd waste no time in getting you on his cock

oral sex

changbin - he's giving you head, no questions asked. he's shaving the inner part of your thigh and your legs just look so good in shorts. he's gulping, eyes wide and briefly looking at your crotch. you notice though, and you'd gently place your hand over his and push the razor away, opening your legs so he can get a better look. he might panic at first, claiming he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but you shush him and grab the back of his head to guide him to your cunt.

han - you're on your tummy, feeling han prep you for a back tattoo. honestly, if he wasn't so nervous he'd fuck you just like that, but you start giving him innocent compliments that lead to you not-so-innocently sitting him on the laid out chair and getting on your knees. he's just so cute whimpering and biting into his hand while his thighs tremble around your face

professional

chan - this honestly shouldn't be a surprise. he takes his job very seriously, and no matter how many times your hand accidentally brushes against his cock or how prettily you bat your eyelashes, he will not do anything out of line. but ofc you can see the strain, and tent in his jeans that must be so uncomfortable. he's got a red blush on his ears, but he's so keen on making sure he's professional throughout the session. maybe you just need to make another appointment

felix - I think he likes knowing that you know he's horny, if that makes sense. it's the yearning that really turns him on, the longing stares, the lip bite he does when his touches linger. even if it makes his cock throb, he just loves teasing you too much to do anything. still, I do think he'd grind his front against your body 'accidentally' and he wouldn't say no if you start palming him while he shaves your arm to clean to area

jeongin - is just nervous. he really isn't sure if you're flirting with him or not. a lot of girls try to do favors in getting out of paying, but you're just so persistent you tip very good after each session. he's thought about taking things a step further, but he really isn't sure how to. if he's doing a chest tattoo, his hand will find purchase on your tit, a small blush on his face saying it helps in keeping him anchored. you don't push him, a sweet smile on your face as you tell him you don't mind, that it feels good. he gulps, cock hardening in his sweats and he prays he doesn't have to stand for a while

not proofread lmao

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz hyunjin #skz changbin #skz seungmin #skz chan smut #skz lee know #changbin smut #Felix smut #poly!skz #ot8 skz #seungmin #jeongin #han #Jisung han

[mingtinys]

" i can't wait to spend forever with you "

pairing : kim mingyu x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.4 k

a/n : this is sheer mingyu brain rotting fluff and i am not the least bit ashamed

You wake before him. Soft light filters in through the sheer curtains, warming your skin and painting Mingyu's features with a delicate glow. He looks surreal. Like a statue carefully sculpted from pure marble. A dream come to life before your very eyes.

It's hard not to admire him when he's like this. His eyelids lax, long lashes splayed out beneath,  the freckle at the tip of his nose, the pout on his lips. Every little detail that makes Mingyu, Mingyu. The rise and fall of his chest is easy and even, bare skin framed by the white sheets that slipped from his shoulder during the night. You tug them up when he shivers, letting your fingertips linger at his jaw.

You try your best to trace along the sharp curve with a feathery light touch. But it isn't long until your impulsive thoughts win over and your lips move to capture his. You think you've been pretty discreet until you feel Mingyu hum against your lips and start mirroring your movements.

He's all teeth as he smiles into the kiss. "Good morning to you too." The laugh he lets out is melodic and just hushed enough to not disturb the calm and quiet atmosphere.

"Sorry, I promise I wasn't trying to wake you."

"You are more than welcome to wake up me like that any day." There's a rawness to his voice, raspy yet airy at the same time. It makes your insides melt.

"You have the day off?"

"Mm-hm."

"How do you wanna spend it?"

"With you." He's still got that dopey smile on his face, eyelids droopy from not being fully awake quite yet. He really is a dream, you think. Mingyu pulls his arm from the warmth of the sheets and takes the hand you have resting on his jaw into his own. He intertwines your fingers and holds your clasped hands up where he can see, before bringing them down to his lips and pressing a long kiss to the back of your hand. The simple gesture makes your heart swell with a familiar warmth.

He readjusts, slipping his hand from your grasp in favor of holding yours at the bend of where your palm meets your fingers. The way a prince would when asking for a dance. And as his thumb ghosts over the base of your empty ring finger, your heart stops for a beat. His eyes never break contact with the spot as he speaks.

"I can't wait to spend forever with you." There's a conviction to how he speaks. The lack of hesitance in his words implies he's thought about this before. The lovesick glaze over his eyes only makes it all the more sincere.

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

#kim mingyu #mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x you #mingyu x you #kim mingyu fanfic #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagine #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #svt mingyu #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen mingyu #seventeen fluff #svt fluff