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#had to do it for the bright blue pupils
dezimaton · 9 months
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fried rice
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cofigelly · 6 months
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ೀ SIX EYES
——————————————————————————pairing; college au!gojo satoru x reader
synopsis; you couldn’t help but notice a pair of wandering eyes during your 10am lecture
word count; ~2k words
contents; sfw, f!reader, no curses au, rich college student gojo, cocky/playful gojo, six eye/infinity references
notes; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LIL DRABBLE IDK WHAT HAPPENED? i <3 run ons and sentence fragments apparently
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the first thing you noticed about him were his eyes.
well, technically, his eyes noticed you first.
in the midst of your monday 10am lecture (known for its lengthy, soul-wrenching talks about finance), you felt his sharp gaze pierce straight into your soul. it was a brief, quick glance — but it was an intentional glance, nonetheless.
you simply brushed it off. it must’ve been him zoning out, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. that was until you caught him repeating the same habit again. and again. over the course of the next three weeks.
that same, hungry gaze, taking in every intricacy of your features. a look that felt like it set your entire body on fire, despite the icy blue hue his pupils reflected each time you returned a glance. his stare would only last a few seconds at most, but something about it felt so intense, so overbearing— it made hold your breath each time.
in all honesty, you didn't mind the attention. in fact, you kind of reveled in it — a handsome, 6'3 guy always ogling at you every lecture. it even had you thinking that maybe he was into you?
but that was at first. as more weeks passed, the more your ego shrank. 'is there something on my face,' you wondered, patting at your cheeks to search for some sort of makeup residue or food crumb, 'do i look stupid?' the large, echoey lecture hall felt evermore revealing as you struggled to find a way to shrink into your plastic-clad seat. but you couldn't hide, not from a stare like that.
paranoia getting the best of you, you slide your phone out of your pocket as you send a hasty text to your best friend, “bro who is this guy? he keeps staring at me EVERY lecture,” you send a 0.5x photo, clearly taken from afar.
just as quickly, your friend responds, “NO FUCKIN WAY is that gojo???” “who the fuck is gojo?”
you could almost feel her attitude burst through the text bubbles, “bro… GOJO. his family is literally loaded?? did you not see his dad surpass bill gates on the global ranking of billionaires?” that text takes you a little by surprise, alternating your eyes between him and the message upon your screen. “okay maybe it’s starting to sound familiar, but still. what’s he doing cosplaying as a broke college kid in my finance class?” you sigh as you continue to tap on your screen, “idgaf that he’s loaded it’s pissing me off that he’s staring at me like 🧿🫦🧿 every lecture.”
your friend reacts with a quick “haha” to your text before responding, “idk man maybe you just caught the attention of the richest guy on campus ;)”
you decided you’ve had enough after reading that text. you’re not about to feed your delusions this early on a monday morning. you’ll admit, he’s a good —no, stunning— looking guy, but you have no time to babysit a boy who was never taught that staring was rude. not to mention, this boy isn't even in the same tax bracket as you. 
brushing it off yet another time, you let out a deep sigh as you flip the page, copying your professor’s notes on the board.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
a whole month has passed and this gojo guy is growing more and more cocky with his stolen glances. he's not even trying to hide it anymore.
this fateful wednesday, as you walk into class, he immediately locks onto you. his bright blue orbs follow you from the door to your row, not releasing his gaze in the slightest after you settle into your seat. your grit your teeth in annoyance as you flip through your notebook pages. who does this guy think he is? it’s been a month and he hasn’t even procured the balls to say a single word to you. yet, he’s feasting on you like you’re his final meal on death row. 
the second the class is excused, you immediately beeline towards his seat — stopping in front of his leaning frame while he packs his bag. “dude, what the hell is your problem,” scowling at him as you approach, “i’ve seen you stare at me for weeks now and it’s getting straight creepy."
his ears perk at the sound of your voice, haphazardly zipping up the final pocket of his backpack. when he looks up, his eyes glint with a hint of mischief as he scrunches his nose in a grin — a grin that’s somehow even cockier than his stare.
“i’m just taking in the view, princess,” he jeers, delight in his tone. 
you stare at him incredulously as you take his confession in. so he really has been staring at you? “for one, i’m not your princess," you scoff at his clear disregard of your concern, "second, you might want to think again before you decide to stare at me one more damn time.”
he hums amusingly, shaking his foot in a steady rhythm, “you’re right. i might think about it again.” his grin is even wider now, “why, what are you going to do about it?”
“—look, i don’t know what you’re getting at,” your eyebrows furrow deeper, “but if you keep this shit up, this won’t be the last time you hear from me.”
briskly, you swing around, completely ignoring his bickers as you head straight out the hallway door. 
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
to gojo, everything you said on wednesday was music to his ears.
he strolled into the next lecture, on monday, with the same shit-eating grin on his face. ‘this wont be the last time he hears from you?' god, he hopes that was true. it made him wonder why he didn’t just stare at you harder in the first place.
everything about you captivated gojo satoru.
from the first day of lecture, he was already mesmerized — by the wafting scent of your cologne as you walked past his row, the way your head cocked to the side whenever you thought through a problem set, the distant clicks as you tapped the end of your pencil against your arm nervously.
he simply couldn’t help but steal that initial glance. he also couldn’t help but steal another one the lecture after.
and another. and another.
he knew he was getting ahead of himself, being so selfish with his dangerous stares, but you just had that effect on him. an effect that he's never experienced with anyone else. he bit back his pride when he couldn’t even approach you first, as he normally did with his prior interests.
there was just something so serene, so heavenly about you. he almost wanted to leave you undisturbed, opting to observe you from afar — not wanting to disrupt his delicate masterpiece from behind the red rope at the museum.
but the day you approached him changed everything. ‘how can someone so innocent have such a mouth on her,’ he chuckles to himself, taking his ipad and apple pencil out of his backpack before laying them flat on the table.
you were completely unlike his initial impression of you, much to his amusement. he prefers it this way —actually— he likes a girl who has a bit of a bite. besides, he finally has an excuse to talk to you and do what he knows best: get under your skin. metaphorically (and literally).
he glances at the door as he hears the familiar clanking of your keychain against your water bottle, more excited for the lecture than he's ever been before.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
there is no fucking way.
gojo satoru is now sitting in the seat directly next to your unassigned assigned seat in this 300-person lecture hall. the entire classroom is almost packed too. how early did he have to be to even get that seat? why is he in that seat? your thoughts are cut off as he waves his hand at you, muttering a short "yoohoo~," ushering you to sit next to him.
hell no. you still have no idea what he's playing at. is he stalking you? does he have some sort of ulterior motive? what if his scary billionaire family kills you, a dirty plebeian, for sitting so close to their perfect, trust fund baby?
you immediately switch gears, practically running away to find a new seat, catching a glimpse of his pout in the corner of your eye. you ignore him and situate yourself in the very front row, directly in front of the professor's podium. you let out a deep exhale as you unpack your notebook when you hear a loud shuffle next to you.
this guy has no shame.
gojo, in all his glory, happily claims the empty seat next to you —unloading the entire apple store (or so it feels like) onto the desk. "good choice, doll. more leg room up here," he stretches his long, lanky legs before crossing them — making sure his knee briefly makes contact with yours.
"are you serious right now— bro your entire apple ecosystem is getting onto my side of the desk," you scowl at him once again as you shove his macbook closer to him. "serious about what?" he mocks, that signature smile gleaming down on you.
"whatever this is? are you obsessed with me or something," you mutter the last part under your breath, but he takes note of you rolling your eyes at him. "hmmm," he taps his chin all philosophically, "if anything you're the one obsessed with me."
wow, this guy really is insane. you felt your eyebrow twitch in anger as you jerked your head up, "me obsessed with you? how does that even make any sense—" "you said you noticed me staring for weeks," he muses, still looking straight at you, "but you don't think i noticed you staring back?"
you scoff, "i was simply just returning your gaze; not everything is about you!” “untrue.”
after refusing to make eye contact, you finally meet his eyes. "i'm not gonna play this damn game with you, look—"
you've never seen him this close before. you've never seen anyone this close before, really. in this cramped lecture hall, with its seats compressed like sardines, it felt like he was only mere millimeters away from you. your breath hitched as the air seemed palpable, heavy. he was so close, but it felt like he was untouchable — almost as if an infinite void was cast between you two.
for the first time, he dropped that condescending smirk. he dropped the facade altogether. beyond the icy blue hues, his eyes glistened a shade that he only shows to you, a shade you've never noticed in all those times you two locked eyes. they were powdery blue — the same softness as the edges of the clouds in the sky or the frothy, tidal waves lightly crashing against the beach sand.
it made you wonder if it was physically possible for one person to hold so much power in just their eyes. a power that felt like three whole people, six eyes-worth, were constantly peering into every fiber of your being. except this time, it was intense in a whole different way, completely unlike before. the closest feeling you could think of was a warm oven, fresh after a batch of cookies — an inexplicable warmth in contrast to his icy appearance.
lost in each others' eyes, he parts his lips as if to finally say something—
"i would really appreciate if you two kept your eyes on the board instead of on each other," a voice boomed from the podium in front of you.
you both tense up, quickly spinning your bodies around to face the front as the snickers began to fill the classroom. you completely forgot about how close you were sitting to the professor.
you felt a tinge of heat start on your cheeks, creeping its way up onto the cartilage of your ears. the embarrassment was more than enough to shut you both up for the rest of the period, but you knew.
you knew you wanted to feel this way again.
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final notes; i wrote this in my actual lecture hall instead of taking notes guys😎😎 (i am severely ill)
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simpforboys · 8 months
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what you need
rafe cameron x f!kook!reader, slight jj maybank x f!kook!reader
summary: when Rafe hears about your desire for JJ, he quickly steps in to remind you of what you actually need.
warnings: smut!! dirty talk, possessiveness, mostly canon!rafe, swearing, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, fluff, drug/alcohol use, degradation, terms (slut, whore, bitch, etc), breeding kink, kinda cnc (?)
based on what you need by abel tesfaye (the weeknd)
not proof read!! (as always) <3
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it fucking killed Rafe that you slowly stopped answering his messages.
it fucking killed Rafe that you slowly began to hang out more with JJ Maybank.
and it fucking killed Rafe when he found out you fucked JJ Maybank.
twice.
Rafe hadn’t seen you for a few months. while the two of you had an on and off fling, everyone in Kildare knew you were Rafe’s.
no one dared to question the Kook Prince, especially since the rumors of his decreasing sanity went around.
Rafe was with Barry, the strong scent of marijuana and beer in Barry’s little trailer.
Rafe set up a line with his credit card, snorting the powdery white substance. he leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes slightly as the intense drug coerced through his pumping veins.
“dude, did you hear that Y/n fucked Maybank?” Barry asked suddenly, lighting a cigarette after he snorted his own line of cocaine.
Rafe’s already wide pupils grew wider. the veins in his neck began to bulge as he clenched his jaw.
the reason why it fucking pained Rafe to hear you fucked JJ was because the whole time you two had your fling, you would constantly tease him.
whether you two were on your sofa, your hips moving against his quickly as you chased your orgasm over his clothed cock.
and as soon as you would cum in your panties, you would leave him dry. every. fucking. time.
no matter how badly Rafe wanted to feel your pussy, you held off on him.
and to find out that a worthless fucking pogue got to your pussy before he did? oh, he wished he didn’t see JJ or else he might’ve killed the dude.
Rafe didn’t respond to Barry’s words. all the kook did was light a cigarette, letting it lay low on his lips as he collected his shit. with the keys to his car, and suddenly feeling as sober as ever, Rafe drove out of Barry’s driveway.
you lived a couple blocks away from Rafe on Figure 8. he knew your address like the back of his hand, so when he pulled onto your street he parked his truck on the curb before walking to your front door.
you opened the door, surprised to see Rafe standing there. he had a backwards hat on, a navy blue polo shirt, and tan cargo shorts on.
his baby blue eyes were dark and clouded, the white around his pupils now bright red from the drugs.
“the hell are you doing here? you smell awful.” you asked him, your eyebrows furrowed.
Rafe’s eyes raked down your figure. wearing a lace silk pj set, your breasts peeked over the top as it hung low on your chest.
Rafe paid your question no mind as he walked inside your house. “Rafe-“
“is anyone home?” Rafe asked, still staring out onto your backporch that overlooked the ocean.
“no, what the fuck do you want?” you asked, watching his tall body approach yours. in one swift motion, he captured your lips in his.
he pressed your back against the door, his fingers locking the knobs. his hand moved to your hip, pressing your body to his.
the taste of liquor melted on your tongue as you kissed him back, your core throbbing from the sudden action.
he quickly walked you backwards until you landed onto your plush white couch. your head rested against the patterned pillow as Rafe hovered over you, his hand running down your thigh.
“you gonna be a good girl f’me?” he asked against your lips, moving to kiss and nip down your neck. his eyes practically bulged out of its sockets when he saw a hickey directly on your breast.
a small growl escaped his mouth as you whined with need. you felt his tongue trace the bruised skin, before sucking the flesh into his mouth.
“fucking answer me, Y/n.”
“yes- Rafe, i’ll be a good girl.”
you sighed out as Rafe slid your shirt up, revealing your breasts. his eyes seemed to enlarge at the sight, before he swiftly sucked your left nipple into his mouth.
“tell me what that nasty ass pogue did to you, Y/n. where’d he touch you?” Rafe asks, his voice in a rasp and deeper than normally.
he was so pissed, and his questions made you buck your hips against his abs. “Rafe, is that what this is ab-“
“you’re gonna answer all my fucking questions and behave, understood?” he asked roughly, grabbing your jaw as he forced you to stare at him in the eyes.
what you saw wasn’t the man you were used to, but instead an animal coming to claim his territory. and the idea fucking turned you on.
“he- he sucked my tits…” you trailed off, letting out a small sigh as you felt Rafe’s mouth latch onto your nipple once more.
like he needed to be better than JJ, needed to show you what it’s like to fuck a real man.
“and he…” your face felt warm as you admitted all of this information to Rafe. but his lips felt chilly against your hot skin, and it was driving you insane.
“did he touch you here, Y/n?” Rafe asked suddenly. his fingers danced over your clothed pussy, making you jolt in response.
you nodded at his question.
“he ate me out,” you shyly admitted.
Rafe hummed in response, tugging your shorts down onto the wood floor. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling your body til your pussy was on full display for him.
he spread your legs wide, the cool air hitting your soaked pussy. your clit twitched from the temperature, and the fact that Rafe Cameron was staring at your vagina like it was his last meal before death row.
“yeah? that little fucking pogue touched my pussy?” Rafe asked, kissing and nipping your inner thighs. his knees rested on the rug as he leaned forward into your cunt.
“‘m sorry,” you breathed out. your legs twitched when you felt his hot breath ghost over your clit.
your back arched slightly when finally began his attack on your cunt. he circled his tongue skillfully along your clit, his two fingers going up to collect your juices.
“oh my god, Rafe,” you whimpered. your hands gripped your tits, massaging your nipples.
as Rafe entered his fingers into your cunt, he left a kiss on your clit. “fuck, Y/n. does the pogue have a tiny dick? you’re so fucking tight.”
you couldn’t respond as Rafe’s fingers quickly found the spongey spot inside your walls. your legs began to shake with ecstasy and Rafe’s naughty words weren’t helping.
it was like he studied your body like a map, knowing all the little tricks to get you closer to your orgasm.
so when Rafe began to suck on your clit, he sent small hums from his throat. the action caused it to send vibrations up to your clit, making you almost scream out.
“fuck, just like that.” you told the man, your eyes fluttering shut as a knot formed tightly into your stomach.
you tried to delay your orgasm, knowing that coming within the first three minutes would be embarrassing.
but to Rafe, it made his cock throb with need as he fought to get you to cum on his tongue.
he sped up his fingers, sucking harshly on your clit until he felt your walls contract against his fingers.
you moaned out as you came, your legs shaking as you gripped onto the pillow behind your head.
Rafe gave another kiss to your clit, working on his own shorts. he unbuttoned them and quickly pulled the zipper down, revealing his big cock.
roughly eight inches, with a prominent vein running from the base to his pink tip. pre cum oozed out of the tip, as he used the juices from your cunt to work his hand up and down his cock.
“look at me.” Rafe commanded, making you to leave your euphoric state. your eyes went wide when you saw his dick, standing proudly at you.
“holy shit…” you whispered to yourself, placing your hand on his cock. you felt it twitch against your touch.
“you gonna be a good fucking slut and take it all?” he asked rhetorically, knowing that either way you would take it.
“Rafe i need you.” you said quietly, wanting his large cock inside of you. he was bigger than JJ, but JJ had a slightly bigger girth.
“what was that?” he hummed, using his tip to slap against your clit as he teased you.
“i fucking need you, Rafe.” you admitted out loudly, desperate to finally feel him inside of you.
“don’t you ever fucking forget that, got it?” Rafe said darkly, sliding his member into your cunt.
you let out a small squeal from his sudden roughness. both of you moaned as your walls worked to fit around his massive cock.
as Rafe began to piston his hips, sliding his dick balls deep and pulling out to just the tip, your mind began to grow hazy from the feeling.
it was like your pussy was made for him, Rafe kept telling himself.
“you like that dick, baby? taking it so well… did Maybank fuck you like this? hmm?” Rafe speaks, mostly searching for your validation.
you nod, although you’re barely listening. his cock is hitting your cervix and driving against your g-spot as he pushes in and out of you quickly.
“you’re gonna be a fucking whore for the pogues, gotta show you how a real man fucks.” Rafe murmurs, holding your body tightly so if you made any effort to escape he could stop you.
“Rafe- ‘s too much,” you pant.
“i thought you said you were gonna be a good girl?” he taunted you, his eyes deep with lust as he held the back of your head and neck, forcing you to stare at him as he fucked you.
you didn’t respond to his comment, pure pleasure consuming your body. it felt like he was folding you like a pretzel, your body spread wide and open for him to take you any way he pleased.
and you didn’t seem to mind, not when he can dick you down this good.
“been everyone’s slut but mine, yeah? how’d the town feel knowing that you’re fucking ran through, and didn’t even let me get a piece.”
Rafe was now speaking to himself, but the fact that he was degrading you and making you his bitch almost made you cum.
“this pussy is fucking mine, Y/n. say it.”
“my pussy is yours.” you squeaked out, only half listening to his words as he marked you.
“louder.” he demanded you, slapping your cheek slightly to get you to focus.
“my pussy is yours, Rafe! fuck!” you shouted, clenching your walls against his cock.
the devilish grin that formed on his face was enough to almost send you over the edge, like almost tripping over a mountain edge.
and as your body jolted in his hands, he continued to grunt quietly until soft whimpers escaped his mouth.
the noises barely danced off the tip of his tongue, but fuck, it was like music to your ears. Rafe fucking Cameron, whimpering for you.
“you wanna cum, baby?” he cooed at you, taking his thumb and rubbing circles on your clit.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the action, your pussy clenching once again.
“please,” you begged.
“tell me how badly you need it. how badly you need me.”
“Rafe i need to cum so fucking bad. i need you to let me cum- i fucking need you, Rafe.”
your words were coming off broken as you pleaded, taking every fiber of your body to not orgasm right there.
“cum on this dick, Y/n.” Rafe demanded, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.
the way you entire body convulsed caused Rafe’s dick to twitch inside your cunt, making him so fucking close.
your cunt was perfect and he couldn’t imagine fucking anyone else after you.
“you want me to cum in this fucking cunt? show everyone that you’re my little pregnant whore?” he coos, his smirk still on his face as he bit his lip at the idea.
“i wanna be your pregnant little whore, Rafe.” you responded, catching him off guard. you felt the way he twitched once more.
“fuck, you’re gonna look so hot carrying my baby. mark you as mine so this whole fucking town knows not to go near you.” Rafe says, sucking on your tit as he cums.
his seed shoots inside of you, coating your walls with his kids. you ran your hand through his hair, his hat thrown somewhere off to the side. you both panted against each other, trying to find your breath from the pure ecstasy.
Rafe hugs your body close to his, coming up to rest against the couch. you curl into his arms, tiredness erupting over your body as you yawn.
within minutes, you were passed out on his chest as he pulls a blanket over the two of you.
“i love you, Y/n.” Rafe whispers against your temple, pressing a small, tender kiss to the skin.
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honeykaes · 7 months
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le sacrifice du sang
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vampire!neuvillette x reader II 2.6k
warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, vampire au, set in 17th century esc france, blood, biting, ritual sex, self harm (neuvillette cuts his wrist for the ritual), soulmate, xenophobia, praise, creampies, monsterfucking adjacent, unedited
synopsis: for decades the village has been thriving despite the vampiric armies ravaging throughout europe. Cast aside for being an outsider, you are deemed as a sacrifice to a vampire lord to stop the attacks in the region.
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Night seemed endless. Most days you would barely see the sun bright outside under the sky. All you could do was sigh, shifting on the soft sheets of the grandiose bed you rested in. A long chiffon nightgown covered your form and rested right at your ankles. You balled your fists on the ornate patterns of the comforter of the bed, golden and navy threads showing off just how much it was worth.
You turned your head to the stained glass window seeing the sun hiding behind the horizon and stars beginning to peak out in the darkening sky—the multicolor light pigmented in blues and purples reflected on the ground as its shadow grew signaling the fleeting light.
Part of you is surprised you're up so early in your new sleep schedule but another part of you questions why you’re even alive right now to look outside the stained glass window. Three weeks ago you were set to die, yet you have lived in the lap of luxury.
All because of him.
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Vampires have been ravaging Europe for a few decades now, causing an all-out war in some regions of the land. Your family insisted on heading there despite it, as traders would surely flourish against the nobles desperate for supplies and your nativity allowed you to follow them. 
Trying to settle and trade in Europe began in disaster as xenophobia grew rapid—war, fear, and prejudices clouding their judgment. You lost your family very early on when you arrived in Europe, losing a lot and trying to scour and try to collect wherever you could to mourn and live. France became the best option to live in since the fighting was beginning to cease in the country.
In the southeast part of the region, you settled in a village. You remained there for five years, trying to make ends meet as a seamstress. You always wondered why vampires didn’t attack and slaughter you and the rest of the village as you heard others had faced. The village had not seen an inkling of the dissipating war around it, and you later discovered why.
To appease the vampiric lords and ladies of France, human sacrifices were commenced—one to save all. You weren’t completely sure who the lord of this area even was, yet you were about to find out after the Judge of the town deemed yourself as the sacrifice.
You begged, you pleaded, you cried but no one in the town so much as pitied you. In their eyes, you were an outsider; someone even more worthy of being sacrificed than “one of their own”. Bullshit is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the power to defy it.
That man eventually collected you after, the lord of the southern region of France—Monsieur Neuvillette. When he descended, in navy and black, you thought he was an angel and thought the village already killed you thinking he was an angel instead. 
He didn’t seem human at all. 
Long white hair cascaded down his back and lowly tied towards the end with streaks of gradient blue flowing through it. His lavender eyes, pupil slit, and irises glowing, drinking up every unconscious tick and stubble expression in your body and face. His face was stern, but his eyes seemed kind.
He asked you one question that night.
“What is your name, dear?” 
You answered as his eyes softened, lifting his hand to your eyes to cover your gaze
“Then, (Y/n). I’m sorry circumstances have brought us here.”
Darkness was all you were faced with. In a way, you thought death had arrived, only to wake up in a beautifully decorated room in a château when you awoke.
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Neuvillette was kind albeit stoic during your time in his château. Many nights, you’d have dinner with him—his eyes just on you as he quietly drank his silver chalice filled with the iron-rich stench of blood from someone who wasn’t you.
Those nights he would reveal more information about himself and you’d do the same. He told you how he was a lord and has been “in this state” for several millennia. He told you about the rise and fall of empires and even vampiric ones history had all but forgotten. 
Neuvillette also discussed how most of the sacrifices ended up working as servants in the château who he called “Melusines”. 
In the second week since your “sacrifice”, he also mentioned another vampire lord living in this château—Lady Furina. He talked about how eager she was to interact with her subjects, including yourself but he had told her to stay away from you for now as her bloodlust was unpredictable.
But one slip of the tongue had changed the casual conversation into something more serious.
“...She is not to bother you, yet. Not before you are turned at the least.”
Your eyebrow furrowed, lips parting hearing him say those words. Turning? Turning into what?
“What do you mean by that…” you questioned. He placed his chalice down, closing his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts before crossing his arms.
“I apologize. I have neglected to inform you about this since I wanted you to get adjusted to your new life here first,” he murmured. You clenched your jaw, trying to read his stoic expression but it was the same as it’s always been. 
“I admit I played a role in why the Judge had chosen you specifically. When you first settled in the village, your scent informed me that you were my mate. My soulmate,” he replied. You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing in shock. 
“Smell me? Soulmate? What does that even mean, Neuvillette?! I thought vampires only were interested in other vampires and humans were seen as food. That’s why there’s a war in the rest of Europe after all,” you shouted. He did not flinch at your raising pitch in tone. He gave a small humorless laugh at your words.
“That’s not exactly true. A curse befalls vampires and those with vampiric natures in more than one way than ‘evolving’ from their human characteristics. The same people many see as food can be the only chance to find their mate. Whether unconsciously or not we are always searching, our body craves the touch and affection only our mates can give us, soothing one might say, the soul,” he revealed.
You look down at your plate, half-eaten cake on it before gently pushing it away. There was a pause where no one said anything, but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat thumping rapidly in your chest.
“...Are you scared? Do you need some time to process this? We can save the rest of this conversation later,” Neuvillette discussed. You swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that caught your throat suddenly but refused to look him in his eyes for now.
“H-How would this process work exactly? I’m guessing vampires and mortal humans don't mix well,” you muttered. Neuvillette sighed, grunting in agreement.
“Well. There’s a ritual in a sense to create a bond between each party’s body and soul. The ritual entails copulation and when my fangs pierce your skin in the process. It will signal to both your body and soul that your bond with me has been found and eventually your physiology will adjust into something more like me.”
“...Something that of a vampire,” you whispered, looking up at him. He silently nodded as silence befell the two of you for now. Neuvillette let out a heavy sigh, but the corners of his lips curved into a small smile to try to ease the pain you were faced with.
“I recognize this is a lot for any human to face, so please take as much time as you need. There is no rush, so process however long it will take,” he said, rising from his seat and leaving you alone with the crackling fire in the dining room. 
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It had been a year since that night he revealed himself as your soulmate. A year to finally process and accept your fate. You chuckled to yourself finally seeing the sun’s light completely disappear and the moon rising brightly in the sky.
Tonight you would mourn your mortality.
A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts and memories before you called out they could enter. Neuvillette walked in, wearing his own nightgown falling to his ankle, body completely covered in the white chiffon fabric. He stood by the door still, letting you have your space that was resting on the bed.
“Are you sure you are ready? We can wait later to do this. I can wait,” Neuvillette murmured. You flashed a shaky smile before sighing.
“Yes. I am Neuvillette. I promise,” you replied. Neuvillette walked over until he was in front of you, long fingers clasping gently as your chin before lifting it up. Your lips parted in shock gazing into his eyes that softened.
“I’m going to ask one more time, are you sure you’re ready,” he asked, voice low and husky. Your body trembled at the tone of his voice before you slowly nodded your head—you could hear your eardrums echoing out the beat of your quickening heart. 
You slowly lifted your nightgown off and the fabric pools on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable to his gaze and touch. He followed, letting his nightgown fall onto the floor. His body was more muscular than you thought based on the attire you usually saw him adorning in the halls. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.
Neuvillette softly smiles leaning in to press his lips against your own. He soon is on top of you, the bed creaked as the weight of two bodies pressed against it. His lips were soft, easily molding on your own while ever so often a sharp pain would poke at your bottom lip. 
“If I’m being honest, I never thought I would experience this. You don’t know how long I waited for this...how I longed for you,” he whispered, as his lips eventually left your own, settling in the nape of your neck. Your body trembled as Neuvillette let his fangs graze against the sensitive skin while his hand traveled down and squeezed the plush of your thighs. 
He finally finds your cunt, cupping his hand at it as he continues to nipple and his along your neck. He soon applied pressure and your hips instinctively began to grind trying to get a lick of friction to brush against your needy clit. Feeling you grind on his hand made Neuvillette chuckle before he opened his eyes admiring the slick now clinging to his palm.
“So pliable under my touch, I’m glad you're enjoying yourself,” he whispered in your ear, hearing another moan rip from your mouth. He soon shifted his position; his thumb now firmly pressed against the nub of your clit pressing tight circles on it. Your form began to twist and your hips shifted as Neuvillette’s hand followed every movement, not budging his focused ministrations once.
His other thumb brushed against your pebbled nibbles, relishing in the way your body jolted from the various sensations. Your breathing became heavy, feeling your entire body flutter inching closer and closer to your high.
“Neuvillette. Neuvillette…I’m—” you groaned out before suddenly Neuvillette completely stopped. You snapped your eyes open in surprise, looking over at him perplexed as his gaze softened and lips tugged in a smile.
“Why did you stop…?” you whispered, puzzled by his actions. Neuvillette leaned in to kiss your forehead while cleaning the slick clinging to his fingers on his thighs as it smeared.
“I needed to make sure you were prepared for me. The ritual unfortunately cannot work if you lose yourself to my fingers, mon cœur. Unless you preferred to wait as I asked earlier,” Neuvillette hummed. You bite your lip, in embarrassment as Neuvillette grasped his cock.
It’s thick, and long and the only vein you could see ran along the base of it. His cock curled up and twitched every few seconds, eager for attention. He let out a grunt, pumping his cock a few times as his tip—flushed pale pink—budded with precum. He rested his length against your slit, letting it slide up and down and gathering the arousal drooling out of your cunt. He let his tip tap against your stimulated clit causing you to shiver before he nestled it against your entrance once more.
As he pushed the tip inside of you, he leaned down, capturing your lips once more before sinking his cock further inside of you. Your nails harpoon against his broad back and you widen your legs wider trying to adjust to his length. Your walls burned at the stretch, trying your best not to tense up as he descended further inside of you.
Finally bottoming out, he slowly slid out before plunging in once more, thrusting with meticulous but strong strokes. Your body moved to his pace, bed beginning to moan and creak while hitting against the wall. 
He grunted louder in the kiss, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to contain himself. He leaned up as you tried catching your breath, stammering his name as his breathing became heavier while his thrusts became faster.
Neuvillette parted his mouth to let his fangs elongate before they buried themselves in the nape of your neck. You yelped, sucking a sharp breath in as the pain of his bite throbbed and shot throughout your entire body. You could hear him gulp and moan, sucking the river of blood pouring down at the wound while he continued to rut inside of you.
“Neuvillette…” you whispered out. It was strange. The pain had somehow subsided and your body felt much lighter and aware of his touch and thrusts, trembling in newly found sensitivity and pleasure. It was as if the bite was an aphrodisiac.
Were all bites like this or was it because he claimed to be your soulmate?
He lifted his head, lower face bloodied from the meal he was indulging in—your humanity. His tongue seemed longer, letting it rest against the wound before taking a long stride up to lap up the rest of the blood dripping from the punctures.
Your walls fluttered down on his cock as your writhed, Neuvillette continued to buck—desperate to sink even further inside of you. He sucked a breath in, struggling to keep up with his pace as your walls continued to cave and clamp down.
Neuvillette's hands find themselves beneath you, squeezing the globes of your ass before lifting your bottom half in an attempt to plunge deeper inside of you. His eyes narrowed watching his cock stretch and disappear in your cunt.
“That’s it…you're almost there. Let me see you come undone. Let’s begin our lives together for eternity in the darkness…” Neuvillette muttered, clenching his jaw tight. You squirmed, tears pricking your eyes as you finally reached your high—body shivering and back arching while calling out his name repeatedly. Your walls quivering from your climax were enough for Neuvillette to follow.
He snapped his eyes shut, hips flattering letting ropes of his thick cum shoot inside of it. He slowly thrust, pushing it deeper, trying to nurse his body down from his high. A trial of his essence managed to leak out, and travel to your inner thighs despite his cock still plugged inside of you.
“Just one more step…please bear with me and stay away,” Neuvillette whispered, placing your hips down on the bed once more. His nails, sharper than before, quickly shut themselves on his wrist—his blood dripping down his forearm. Your eyes and body felt so heavy, your body feeling like your heart was slowing down before you noticed him hovering his injured wrist above your mouth.
Droplets of blood trickled down your chest and chin before finally landing in your open mouth.
As you swallowed, your eyes widened feeling an unknown rush flowing throughout your body replenishing your once tired body so suddenly.
“It…it doesn’t taste like iron, but as if your blood is the purest spring water…”
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sunflowersteves · 7 months
Text
kinktober day 003 — first bj
pairing || carmen berzatto x f!reader
summary || Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?
author’s note || first day of kinktober for me!! ❥ i hope you all enjoy as much as I did writing for carmen again. I haven't written anything in like,,, three months?? wowwow
warnings || fluff, inexperienced reader, SMUT, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, [18+ only]
kinktober masterlist
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Carmy could tell you were nervous.
There was something about the way that you looked out the window of the car. There was a certain shine in your eyes that didn’t really match the expression on your face.
He looked away from the road in a quick glance. A hand flew through his hair and his fingers only tangled the curls even more. He bites his lip as the endless amount of scenarios crowded into his brain.
What were you thinking? Were you thinking about him? Was it bad? Did he fuck something up at the restaurant?
His mind was only getting louder at the soft quiet sounds of the car continuing to roll onto the asphalt. He couldn’t take it much longer—especially as he took another glance at you.
He pulled the car over and shifted the gear into park.
“Carmy? What are you—”
He turned to stare at you, blue eyes entirely wide.
“Do you not like me?” He huffed out. “B-Because I wouldn’t mind, you know. Like-like I mean, I get it. I know I’m hard to like since I can’t really—”
His mouth snaps shut at the sound of your laughter bubbling up to the surface. You didn’t mean to laugh, but there was something comical about what he thought you were thinking and what you were actually thinking.
By the time you calm down, his cheeks has a tinge of pink. “That’s not what I’m thinking about, bear. Far from it.”
Oh.
Whew.
His right eyebrow furrows, then. “What were you thinking about?”
Now it was your turn to become shy, your mouth was left open in an attempt to explain. A wave of warmth washes over you as you thought of the scenes that played through your head.
“I—” You looked over at him as if to ask if you really had to tell him. With that gleam in his eyes, you knew you had to.
“I was imagining how your dick would taste.” You blurted out.
He stared at you in shock. His brain seemed to freeze in time. The sparkle in your eyes wasn’t that of melancholy, it was arousal.
His silence was starting to make you nervous. He was making you nervous. “B-But if you’re not comfortable with that then I totally understand. I- you know, I haven’t done a blowjob before so I understand and—let’s forget about it, okay? Let’s just—”
Your rambling becomes interrupted when his lips crashed against yours. Your hands tangled themselves into his fluffy hair. His arms pulled you forward to the middle of the console—as close to him as he could.
“Fuck,” he breathes out against your lips. His lips can’t help put follow yours into another searing kiss. He was definitely addicted. “Sweet, sweet girl. You were just desperate, huh?”
You nodded. He couldn’t help but kiss you again and again. He had never felt so loved before. “Pretty girl.” He whispered against your lips.
As he separated the kiss, you stared into his eyes. They were almost black—a stark contrast from the bright blue that you know so well. His pupils were large and the way he licked his lips seemed to acknowledge that he wanted to devour you.
Carmen swiftly unbuckles his belt and shimmies off his restaurant slacks. His cock throbs at the cool air that rushes against him.
You, on the other hand, can’t stop staring. You’ll never stop staring.
You looked at the sheer girth of his cock—the way it swells against his palm. Your mouth watered by the pre-cum that sprouted against the tip. The vein on the side of his cock was prominent, gleaming near the tip.
You never noticed Carmy staring at you in awe. “You’re going to be the death of me, baby. Fucking god—”
Anxiety started to cloud your mind a bit. You wanted so desperately to please your pretty boyfriend. “But, Carmen, what if it doesn’t feel good for you?”
He almost wanted to laugh, but he’s glad he stopped himself. You were it for him. The person that he confides in, that he leans onto, and not to mention that he gets a boner from just by walking by him.
You were the one person in the entire world that he could never get tired of. To him, the idea of your mouth on his cock and it wouldn’t feel good? That’ll be when pigs fly.
“I’ll tell you what to do, okay? I’ve got you, baby.”
You smile at him as the weight on your shoulder lifts. It’s just carmy—your carmy.
You didn’t want to wait anymore precious time, so you rested your elbows against the console, leaning as close to him as possible.
He pressed a few kisses to your cheek and temple, letting you know to take your time. You didn’t want to, though.
“You’re so big, Carmy.” You whined. He could feel his cock jump at the way your mouth seemed to water. He watched you with hazed eyes as you gently licked the tip. He moaned at the warm feeling of your tongue.
“Fuck, please do more, sweet girl.”
His begging had only spurred you on. You could feel the way your underwear became wetter by the second. You take him him fully inside of your mouth, suctioning your mouth on his member.
“Swirl your tongue, baby—yeah, fuck.” You do exactly as he says, all while bobbing your head up and down. “Such a good girl.”
You weren’t even halfway on his cock, but he didn’t care. He’ll eventually train your throat, but for now? For now, he’s relishing in the way your mouth feels and how an inch of your touch is sending him into a spiral.
He moaned and groaned at the feeling of your mouth on his tip. The way your spit gave just enough lubricant to send his eyes rolling back into his head. “You sure you’ve never done this before, baby?” He slurred. “‘Cause fuck me—”
Your eyes flicker to his as you try to take him even further. His hips accidentally stutter into your mouth at the slick, wet feeling of your mouth.
“Holy, fuck—shit—you wanna take my whole cock, huh? You want to fit it all?”
You weren’t able to answer him, so he pushes your head off of cock and makes you look into his eyes.
The desperation leaks from his voice. “I need—I need you to say it, baby. I need you to say how much you want my cock.”
Your messy, swollen lips parted. You’re completely out of breath, but you don’t care—not with that glossy look in your eyes.
“Please, carmy. I wanna suck your cock so bad. I-I want to take all of it, please.”
Carmen could only groan and whimper from the way that you begged. It was sweet and sultry—he thought he might explode. “You make me fucking crazy, sweet girl. I’m already about to fucking cum.” You press slow kisses into his cock, accentuating your lips onto his sensitive areas.
You let out a loud whine as he gently pulls your head away from his cock. You wanted to have your mouth full of him again and to take that from you?
He soothed your desperate cries with a sweet kiss. His gentle lips fell right on top of yours—his mind savoring the moment.
“Want to cum in your mouth, baby. Is that okay?”
Your mouth opens almost automatically from the pure, raw arousal that yourcbody is radiating. “Please, carmy.”
He quickly moves his seat all the way back, making that extra room for you. Your mouth is directly below his cock, waiting for the salty substance.
He wraps his hand around his member, slowly pumping his swollen cock. “You look so fucking gorgeous like that, you know that? Fucking shit, I can’t stop looking at you.”
You smiled brightly up at him. You then started to open your mouth as wide as you could. “Cum in my mouth, Carmy. I need it.”
He continues pumping over and over, the whimpers he lets out are the only sound you seem to hear. You want to hear it more.
“Fuck, baby—shit—” He spills his cum into your mouth, forever and ever it seemed to leak onto your lips.
Some of it had even spurted on the outside of your mouth. His eyes widened as he watched the way you took every drop on your finger and licked it right off.
“Are you real?” He asks, dreamily looking at you.
You laugh. You pressed a gentle hand onto his cheek. “I’m real. Are you?”
He smiles down at you. “Yeah, I’m real.”
He moves his seat up and you both transition back to your seats. You wiped your mouth, just as Carmen finished buttoning up his pants.
“Ready to go home, baby?” His hand finds yours.
You smiled. Home sounded nice. Home sounded nice with him.
“Yeah, bear. Let’s go home.”
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moondirti · 1 month
Text
so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op
featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!
They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.
“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia
But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.
Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.
Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”
Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–
You clear your throat.
His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.
Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.
He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.
What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?
“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.
It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”
You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”
“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.
“I’ll have that right out for you.”
And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.
Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.
“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”
Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”
“We cannae leave her here.”
Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.
He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.
“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”
It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.
What good partner would let you work this shitty job?
It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.
Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.
It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.
So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.
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surielstea · 14 days
Text
Schools Out!
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel and reader are in charge of picking Nyx up from school, but Az doesn’t like the way the teacher looks at his mate.
Warnings: innuendo of having kids
1.5k words
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The final bell rang and children flooded from the brightly painted doors with wide grins on their faces as they lugged on their backpacks.
I stood beside a looming Azriel with a bright smile on my face as I waited for Nyx to exit the classroom. Feyre and Rhys had an emergency shipment at the art studio they needed to tend to and I was quick to jump at the opportunity to pick the young boy up from class.
Azriel— who has slowly become my personal shadow, goes wherever I go, so I wasn't surprised when he grabbed my wrist and led me to the front door without so much as a word.
A head of blue-black hair comes bounding out of the classroom. His sky-blue backpack hangs halfway off his shoulders as he talks to his teacher, looking up at the male as he clung to his hand.
Kids quickly found their parents but Nyx seemed too intrigued with his teacher to notice Azriel or I waiting.
People stared, perhaps it was Azriel's shadows swishing around us protectively or his large black wings, not many knew of the Illyrians and only about their reputations, I didn't blame them for staring, I wouldn't want the Illyrians near my kid's school either— but none of their eyes were on him, but rather on me.
Azriel's scarred hand snaked around my waist protectively and I smiled at the sentiment, my hand coming to his in an act to soothe him.
Nyx's eyes snag on us and his expression brightens. "Auntie! Uncle Az!" He rushes towards us, practically flying into my arms with a flap of his growing wings. "What are you doing here?" The boy asks excitedly. "Your parents are busy so we're here to pick you up," Azriel says, while I adjust him in my arms. "And, we might stop at the ice cream shop on our way home," I add, eyes flicking to Azriel with a mischievous grin, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as Nyx's pupils practically morph into hearts.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," An unfamiliar voice sounds and my head whips up to see a tall male with a polite smile and finger-paint stains on his grey button-up. "Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx exclaims as if he hadn't just been with the teacher. "Hi Nyx," The male smiles at the boy, then looks back to me. "Nyx talks highly of you," A smirk curves his lips as his eyes linger all over me. Azriel's arm tightens protectively around me. "The both of you." The blonde corrects and I scoff a laugh, waving him off. "He does the same for you." I smile at him, setting Nyx down on his feet, his hand going into mine. "Always going on about Mr. Lockwood, you seem to make his day." I muse and Azriel's hand leaves my waist in order to pick a wanting Nyx up. "Please, call me Ezra." He presses a hand to his chest humbly and my brows raise a fraction.
I can practically feel Azriel tense beside me at the rushed familiarity. I bring my hand up to his bicep reassuringly as I continue my conversation with Nyx's favorite teacher.
"Right, Ezra," I smile politely at him, dragging my hand down Azriel's arm until reaching his hand where I intertwine our fingers. The teacher looks at our hands, at Azriel's scars I realize, watching as he swallows a lump in his throat. I bristle at the act, wondering what's so wrong with my mate's hands.
"Oh—" He catches the glare I'm subconsciously giving him and pulls a clipboard that was tucked beneath his arm.
"I just need you to sign here before you leave since you're not one of Nyx's biological parents." He holds the paper towards me. I skim through the fine details, the form essentially saying that Nyx's parents had consented to Az and me taking their child home.
I spotted the blank section at the bottom that I had to sign. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen." I pad my pockets but find them empty.
Mr. Lockwood reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a red pen, but before I can take it, shadows appear before me, holding a blue pen. I looked to Mr. Lockwood who was staring down at the shadows anxiously, like the dark tendrils might eat him alive— and if my hand wasn't in Azriel's the spymaster might've let them.
I choose to take the blue pen, pulling it from the dark tendrils with a grateful smile and they happily whisk away, down towards the ground where they pooled at my heels. Mr. Lockwood puts his pen back in his breast pocket with a slight drag in his movements, as if in defeat. I sign the space with a big looping signature then hand the pen back to my mate. "Thanks, Az," I hum, he simply nods and takes it from my hold. I turned back to the teacher who was staring at the both of us like he was beyond confused as to why we were together.
It was no secret Azriel and I were pure opposites. One could tell just by looking at my pink gowns and white skirts compared to his black leathers— but it went deeper than just our clothes. I was typically the center of attention when it came to social events while Azriel preferred to observe me. I was always talking his ear off while he just nodded and chimed in every now and again. So when we met strangers it was always a shock to them when they found out we were mates.
"All done here?" I tilt my head, knocking the blonde from his stupor. "Uh— yes." He tucks the clipboard back under his arm. "Perfect," I take Nyx's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. "We'll be seeing you." I smile while Azriel pulls me away. "Bye, Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx waves with a bright smile from over Azriel's shoulder.
——
The walk to the Ice Cream parlor was brief, since Nyx's school was located in the Rainbow everything was only a short distance away, still, the entire way there Nyx raved on about his teacher. Much to Azriel's dismay.
"—And Mr. Lockwood gives us a cool sticker every time we get something right!" Nyx exclaims, skipping slightly as he tugs on my hand. "Would you rather have a sticker or ice cream?" Azriel says and I toss the jealous male a knowing glare. "Oh ice cream for sure," Nyx licks his lips excitedly. "That's what I thought." Azriel mumbles and I playfully smack his shoulder with my freehand.
"Can I please get a chocolate cone, Auntie?" Nyx asks, ignoring his snarky uncle. A smile pulls at my lips. "I don't see why not?" I hum and a grin showing all his teeth blessed his expression. "Maybe I'll get one too." I wink at the boy as we reach the shop, Azriel opening the door for the both of us. The worker behind the counter smiles at us in a greeting and I return it.
"What flavor are you gonna get?" I ask the kindergartner. "I can't see," He says, standing on his tiptoes and attempting to peer over the edge of the glass. Without a word, Azriel swoops him up and props the boy on his hip.
"Ooh, that one," Nyx exclaims, pointing to a brightly colored tub. "I remember I had that kind with Uncle Cass before and it was so good," Nyx licked his lips as if he could still taste it. I shake my head with a growing grin and approach the counter, the silver-haired fae smiling softly at the three of us.
I order for all of us, making sure to get a chocolate cone for Nyx, per his request. The woman repeats my order back and I nod. "Your total is nine gold marks," She hums, but before I can shuffle through my coin purse Azriel puts down the money due and I look up at him. I slip my hand into his in gratitude as the cashier scoops the ice cream into the cones.
When she hands Nyx the chocolate cone he nearly runs laps around the shop, but in fear of his cold treat melting he instead licks up the side, the scoop seeming as big as his head. "You three are such a lovely family," The female smiles as she hands me my cone. "Oh, he's not—" I begin. "Thank you." Azriel interrupts before tugging my hand towards the door. "Have a nice day!" I wave to the worker. "You too!" She mirrors my expression. "Bye!" Nyx waves carefully, cautious of his ice cream toppling over. She waves back before the door to the parlor opens and we exit, the bell chiming behind us as Azriel guides me down the sidewalk, Nyx still in his arms.
I wrapped my arms around his free one, suddenly overwhelmed by some type of baby-fever. Watching the feared shadow singer be so innocent with Nyx made me want a child of our own. How I'd kill for a kid that looks just like him, hoping our child has his eyes— or better yet, his smile. I push the thoughts away as a pink tinge comes to my cheeks, I lean against his bicep as we walk side by side, enjoying our ice cream on the hot day.
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plasticferal · 2 months
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chocolate part two | chris sturniolo.
authors note: part one here. 3k short and sweet. as requested. so sorry it's nothing crazy! not really proof read, i'm half asleep.
warnings: 18+ fem!reader, daddy!kink, unprotected sex (whoops), creampie, light choking, sexual scenes, explicit language, reader discretion is strongly advised.
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“my turn.” 
before you even have a chance to please him, your face is stopped by chris’s large hand grabbing your jaw, a signature move from him tonight. he forces you to look up at him again and you audibly groan, getting annoyed by being interrupted and losing momentum. 
“think you can handle it?” he tests. you give him lustful, yet threatening eyes. you’re sure your pupils are as dilated as his, the black part of his bright blue eyes daring you with a long, intense stare.
“i think the question here is can you handle it?” your response is daring. 
“i know i can, sweetheart.” chris adjusts his hips with a rolling motion, getting more comfortable in the lounge. 
in any other situation, his words would make you grimace. laugh even, or want to hit him. when he’s locking his eyes with you, so intensely.
the way his thumbs are pressing into your dimples, it makes you want to put on a show for him. he’s already looking at you like he wants to devour you again and it makes you see him in a different light.
chris snaps you out of your thoughts when he guides your face back down, and you give a greedy smile when you finally get to show him that you can give as well as you take.
you hook your fingers over the waistband of his sweats, grabbing his boxers as well, that are damp and stained from the mess you’ve already made, as well as a small patch of his precum leaking through. 
you’re eager to see his cock. 
you’re shocked he’s been so tame thus far, with the amount of blood he has rushing to his throbbing member, and the drawn out torture he’s had to endure while not being touched. it makes you feel like he’s prioritized your pleasure, and he has. 
the moment you pull his clothes down in one foul swoop, chris sucks air through his teeth, finally letting his dick spring free. he naturally takes the base in his grip, giving himself a slow, much needed stroke. 
you suck your cheeks a few times to accumulate enough saliva in your mouth before tightening your lips to spit onto his tip. you let the strand of salvia drop slowly, controlling the fall. 
he’s watching through hooded eyes, and you just know they’re burning him with the way he’s refusing to blink, as to not miss a single move you make. you look up through your eyelashes as the wetness finally falls onto his head, and he lets out a shuddering breath. 
he’s perfect. there’s no curve in his dick, he’s just thick and wide. he’s long too, and freshly shaven. which shouldn’t shock you, but does. the smell of his sweat is sickeningly mouth-watering.
you readily sink your mouth onto him, your lips caressing his delicate skin as you feel his base glide down your throat, his own fingers still wrapped around himself to keep his cock steady for you. 
he releases his hands when your mouth engulfs him fully, and even you’re taken aback. you gag slightly, making your eyes water, and chris groans with rapture. you lift your head to suck upwards before messily pushing your head back down onto him, repeating the movement with small moans and digging into his thighs with your nails. 
"make daddy cum with just your mouth" his voice is low, and quiet. direct enough, but slightly under his breath. 
you’re trying to do exactly as he says. a switch in watching to prove yourself to him, but you’re sure again it’s just the chocolate, even if you are just using that as an excuse, along with the aftermath of your still throbbing clit. 
he’s high on adrenaline. that kind of ego boost that hits differently now. he's just so full of himself. he is toward you on a regular basis, but now it’s to your benefit. you are listening to his demands though. 
he knows he's hot. you hate him for it. you moan again, gagging as he bucks his hips upwards. you raise your hand to stroke him, even if just to stimulate him more, to support your mouth movements. he swats your hand away. 
"no. no hands. only that pretty mouth of yours." 
you hate yourself even more for obeying. 
his hips rhythmically grind upward in the most minuscule rolling motion, and it’s your sign that he’s enjoying it. his mouth hangs open slightly, showing a glimpse of his perfect top row of teeth. chris lifts both his hands and tucks them behind his head, interlocking his fingers and resting the back of his head on his open palms. 
you kiss his tip, sticking your tongue out to tease him. you’re laying kitten-like licks on his weeping head before taking him again. he fucks your throat now that you know the rules, and you’re a mess. you’re sure you’re leaving nail marks in his skin, and he’s leaving a bruise in the back of your throat. his hips are thrusting into your mouth harder and harder. 
“ngh, ugh, fuck, fuuuuuck” he moans his words, a husk in his tone as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes.
you’re sloppily trying to keep his cock in your mouth as you rise and fall onto him, and it slaps your face occasionally as you have no grip. you’re certain he’s enjoying the struggle. you suck his tip harshly, and it makes him wince. humming a light laugh, you keep sucking and choking on his cock.
you feel chris grab your head and pull you up impatiently, making you pant heavily and wipe your mouth. 
“now i’m gonna fuck you, yeah?” chris says, but it’s not a question, it’s a statement. you want to utter the words “finally” but bite your tongue.  
you’re eye to eye, and chris lazily presses a kiss to your lips in a daze. you give an intemperate smile against his mouth, and he mirrors the look on your face, like this is the peak of your thrill for the night. what you both want, what that cursed chocolate has made you need. 
chris manhandles you by grabbing your ribcage on either side, lifting you onto him then flipping you over so you’re face down. it’s a hot, sweaty, desperate mess of intertwined limbs. 
he has you bent over the couch cushion like a rag doll. thighs jerked around his waist, your tits pressing against the plush chenille while his dick slides between your walls. your nails scratch into the upholstery. 
”all ready for me” chris hisses in your ear, fat tip pressing against your sopping pussy, and it’s making you weaker by the second.
it hasn’t even crossed your mind that you’re not using protection, at this point you’re so sore and deprived that you don’t care. not in the slightest. you just know you need him to fuck you until you both snap back to reality.
“chri- fuck, daddy. please, i need it.” you whine, feeling him slap his cock up through your folds. 
chris’s chest presses to your back as he grabs at your hip, squeezing hard, aligning himself properly. you exhale as chris’s face presses to yours from over your shoulder, his beard stubble tickling your neck and ears. he bites at your earlobe, making you squirm. his hand slaps your ass hard as he asks the question you wish he’d just act on.
“you are ready for me, aren’t you?” he asks, a rasp in his tone.
“yes. yes i’m ready,” you plea.
“just don’t be an idiot and make sure you pull out.” your tone is snarky as you say it in a breathless way.
“yeah, ‘cause that’ll be the biggest mistake tonight” he’s sarcastic, but his implementation makes you seethe. 
he’s slowly stretching your hole out to be obnoxious and distract you from his bitter words before you can respond, and you both gasp as his girth rubs through you, sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire core and body.
“so fuckin’ tight.” chris’s words are so filthy, making you uncontrollably clench around his cock. your cunt sucks him in even deeper and yet pushes him out at the same time. he grunts in response. 
“fucking do that again and ‘m cumming inside you.” his hand pulls your forehead so you’re looking at him, the mere size of his cock making water pool in your lash line. 
his slow, taunting thrusts leave your mind blank. your eyes shut as you feel every pure, fiery sense run through you. 
being with chris skin to skin like this as he fucks you from behind is undeniably euphoric. it’s like hearing your favorite song for the first time, blasting it through your car speakers while driving over the limit down a highway with the windows down, taking every twist and turn with no fear but ultimately knowing if you don’t slow down, you’ll crash. chris is the dangerous road and you’re the sucker taking a ride on it.
“c-chris, auh fuck,- can’t” the fact you’re even able to spit out any words at all surprises you both, yet only makes the bastard smirk. 
how you haven’t woken anyone else up is also a threat waiting around the corner. or they are awake, are hearing what's happening, and refuse to check.
so, you dig your teeth into your bottom lip to resist the urge to speak, despite a moan slipping from your lips as his hips begin to slap into your ass. many moans erupt as he pushes down on your back, thrusting your hips up even higher he hits your sweet spot perfectly. 
“such a fucking shame you hate me, huh? i could make you feel this good every night” he grazes his teeth over the curve of your shoulder, making you throw your head back. 
you know he’s enjoying the taunts far too much, but his heavy balls slapping against your clit truly blur out any scoffs you almost reside to. instead, replaced by dirty gasps and whimpers as you force your breath to stop, stifling moans that almost slip from your drool kissed lips.
your struggling reaction is an answer enough for chris. 
the words disappear in your mind anyway before they even set in, the feeling of his tip thrusting right into your g-spot triggers your electric laced climax. cunt walls quivering around his dick, balls deep in your squelching pussy. the sounds are so satisfying, an homage to the tests you’ve put each other through. 
“p-pull out” you try to manage with a dizzy and corrupted head barely doing anything to genuinely protest. it just feels so good, and your stomach cramps with a twang of pain and pleasure. 
in an instant, he pries your legs from his waist and pushes your hips down onto the couch, prone boning you from the back as you feel him grab your neck in a wrap around motion, squeezing your jaw and speaking against the arch of your ear.
“don’t tell me what to do.” his words almost register right before he slams to the hilt once more, his tip twitching against your cervix, a deep groan leaving his throat as his cum leaked down your clenching cunt. 
“f-fuck you, chris.” you pant. feeling him collapse gently on top of you, peeling your sweat brimmed hair from your neck he lays kisses on your back, down your spine, and little dip of your hip where his finger prints burn into your skin. 
“you are hot when you're mad, y/n.” you gasp as he kneels behind you, swiping two fingers through your gaping entrance to clean you up.
chris grabs a blanket that you’re certain he’ll discard later to wipe everything clean, it being the closest thing in a desperate time calls for desperate measures situation. you roll over from your position, but simply turning over in one spot feels more laborious than it should.
“so you purposely piss me off?” you wipe your forehead, staring at the ceiling and he chuckles, scooting up next to you.
“i just like how you react to me.”
if it wasn’t yourself experiencing it, you’d never believe it. you stare at the white plaster above you and become overly aware that the effects of the stimulant are dwindling. from the moment he rolled off your body and you let his cum seep out of your throbbing, heavy feeling pussy. 
in the blink of an eye you’re overwhelmed by a mix of feeling guilty and fulfilled.
“it’s worn off, hasn’t it?” you see chris turn to look at you from your peripheral vision. 
there’s a part of you that is almost certain it wore off about ten minutes ago, and that it was the darkest part of your hidden desires begging for him instead. not the stupid stimulate you both accidentally consumed. you can never admit that. you can never admit to how you feel in this moment ever.
“i think so.” your chest is still rising and falling manically, and you’re trying not to embarrass yourself with the short restricted breaths you’re taking to not appear disheveled. 
“y/n, look at me.” he says. you turn to look back at him. his big blue dopey eyes are slightly red now, and evidently tired.
“are you okay? i didn’t over-do it, did i?” he draws his eyebrows together with concern, and you sit up slightly to see him better, looking down at him and swing a leg over his torso to bring him closer.
“you didn’t. honestly,” you reassure with the start of your sentence. 
“i’m just wondering how long it’ll take for us to go back to hating each other” you brush a hair from chris’s face, and his hand rests over your knee, pulling you onto him more with a sleepy smile.
“oh i never stopped, sweetheart” his croaky voice jokes, and you slap his chest. 
his smile fades slowly, and you raise an eyebrow, worried about his next words.
“what’s wrong, chris?” you ask. he pauses for a moment, pulling his bottom lip under this teeth momentarily.
“i’m actually scared that i won’t be able to go back to that.” he’s speaking from the heart. 
“back to?” you lure more from him. it’ll drive you insane if he doesn’t explicitly express himself, and you don’t like it, how serious he is as you lay half naked, smelling of sex.
“the hatred. the bickering and the snarky comments. before i saw you naked. kissed your lips. tasted you on my tongue” he trails off, getting lost in his own thoughts.
“i mean if you want to be one hundred percent sure, we could dig some of that chocolate out from the trash. go for round two?” you shrug lightheartedly, too scared to be serious with him. 
he exhales a laugh through his nostrils, against his own will.
“i’m usually the one making jokes like that” he observes, giving you a slightly proud look. acknowledging that you’re beating him at his own game.
“and i’m usually the one with some self-control” your tone is slightly aligned more with his switch of mood.
“yeah well you didn’t really have a choice, love” chris is calm, stretching his neck by rolling it side to side, and you have the temptation to just attack his neck in kisses. even with no aphrodisiac. 
you’re focused on the little veins pressing up into his smooth, pale skin. the light curls in the back of his hair closer to his neck that’s still laced with sweat.
“i did have a choice.” you sound annoyed initially, moreso at his statement that you don’t deem to be true at all. you watch as chris’s face drop, like he’s just fucked up. 
frankly, he did. he fucked up from he second he said he’s hungry.
you can almost hear him swallow.
“i chose you.” you say.
“as convenient as you were in the moment, i still made a choice, chrissy.” the name just slips out at this point, your emotions getting the best of you in a vulnerable state.
“can we also choose to drop the name chrissy?” he twists his face in a silly way, one that doesn’t match the severity of what you just shared with him.
“you asked for it!” you whisper yell, grabbing his upper arm and squeezing it with annoyance.
“not true. i got what i asked for, and more” he’s smug at the thought.
“you are so annoying.” you drop onto his chest, and he wraps an arm around you securely. He’s silent again.
“i know.” he says in a monotone under his breath.
maybe he’s not ready to hear it, he wants to ignore it, probably. you’re okay with that. or at least have to be. you have to be okay with the fact he’ll possibly resent you in the morning. never speak to you again, not even to mess with you.
your train of thought is slowly rocking your mind to rest, eyes and body feeling so heavy. you begin to flutter them open and shut until you eventually give in and keep them closed. you feel chris’s body shift beneath you but you can’t move from exhaustion. 
he swoops his arms behind your knees, lifting you with him as he stands. he cradles you bridal style, and your head is peaceful against his shoulder. your arms tuck into your chest and you feel so small in his embrace. you imagine the walk he’s talking in your mind as he carries you through the house. 
it’s weird, and kind of funny to know how shameless he is about doing it with no pants on. but it’s chris. he’s shameless about most things.
you finally feel your body rest on what you can only guess is his bed. it smells like his body wash. probably something stupid like a three in one. your thoughts about him sour your brain and contrast his next, kind, action.
chris covers you with a blanket. to him, you appear asleep. physically you are. mentally you're wide awake. awake and aware enough to hear his next words.
“i chose you, too. i always will, even if you hate me again in the morning.” he presses a kiss to your temple, and drops onto the mattress beside you. your faint smile is hidden in the pillow. 
maybe he’s not as bitter as you paint him out to be. he’s got a sweet side, it just took an accident to realize it.
tag list: @luverboychris @floofparker @fake-sturniolos @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @sturns333 @tillies33ssss @albgv @sturniolowhore
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gatorbites-imagines · 9 months
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Kenneth “Ken” Sean Carson x male reader
Smut drabble
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Can you guys believe that Kens name is Kenneth?? What the hell,,,,, I loved the Barbie movie btw, I loved how worshippy Ken was, cuz what’s better than a guy that would kiss the ground you walk on.
Reader doesn’t know he’s like,,,, a doll I guess, they just think he’s the biggest himbo airhead in existence.
This was not proofread btw.
 Kens bright blonde hair was soft between your fingers as you brushed your fingers through it, before tightening your hand into a fist as you pulled his head closer. Kens hands grasped at your thighs, his grip clenching and loosening over and over as he gurgled around your cock, wet sloppy noises filling the back room of the store you worked in. Pleasured moans left the blonde man on his knees in front of you, and you could catch his feet wiggling behind him in those ugly cowboy boots he wore. His hat had been thrown somewhere to the side so you could bury your hands into that blonde hair that was so light you were sure it had to be bleached, but as you pulled his hair you couldn’t see any sign of roots showing. Either he truly was the stereotypical dumb blonde, or he had a great hair routine. But his hair was too soft to be bleached as much as you were sure it was, so maybe he really was blonde. His name was even Ken, like those Barbie dolls you had seen your baby cousin play with.
It was very clear the guy had never given head before, but the way he moaned and slobbered over your dick made it just as good. Never before had you gotten such good head, Ken was just so enthusiastic about it, like pleasing you was all he could ever want. The first time you had muttered praise down at him, he had stared up at you in disbelief, like praise was something he had never heard before. His pupils are grown bigger and his lip had quivered, and then he dove on your length and swallowed all of it down in one go, like he had no gag reflex at all, sucking and slobbering over it to the point you had to bite down on your fist to stay quiet, so as to not moan so loud it alerted other customers or your coworkers.
What you didn’t know was that Ken really didn’t have a gag reflex, why would he have one? Hes a doll. Dolls had no need for that kinda thing. They also didn’t have a need for genitals, so it wasn’t like Ken could whip it out or let you go down on him, not that hed ever wanted to do that. Maybe it was the fact that Kens by nature were just accessories, there to better their Barbie and follow along to her every whim, hanging onto any bit of praise and positive attention they could get. But being here between your legs, his mouth and throat working your length with throaty noises, was enough to have Ken brimming with pride and a hot tingly feeling he couldn’t identify.
Every murmur of praise that left your lips had Kens hips twitching or his thighs clenching, even though there was nothing for him to clench around. You were sure you’d found the guy with the biggest praise kink in existence, so you kept going, brushing his hair out of his eyes and telling him how good he was, how pretty he was, how good of a boy he was. It seemed the more praise you gave him the more he preened and more effort he put into it, and to say you were amazed at how good he became so quickly? You couldn’t even put it into words.
Kens pretty blue eyes looked up at you as he swallowed down all you were worth, the tip of your length tickling the back of his throat, and where others would gag, Ken just hummed and looked up at you with wet eyes. His lashes were clumped together, but it only served to make him look even more needy and attractive. Kens throat clenched around you as he swallowed, and when he learned that action got you to moan, he kept doing it, almost milking you like he didn’t have any need to breathe.
Soon it was impossible to hold it back anymore, and you came down his throat, your head falling back against the wall you were leaning against as you ground your hips against Kens pretty face. Ken swallowed everything you gave him, wet gulps filling the tiny room you two were hiding in as he gulped and gulped, still looking up at you, his hands gripping the fabric of your pants.
He kept your softening length in his mouth as you released the rough grip you had on his hair, a pleased hum leaving him as his eyes fluttered, as you ran your fingers through his hair instead. “Such a good boy Ken, you did so well. Fuck, you’re so pretty, so amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so good at sucking cock as you, I just wanna keep you all to myself” you murmured in a post orgasm voice, the praise thick and heavy as it fell endlessly from your lips.
The praise seemed to be what did it for Ken, at least from your perspective. For Ken, hearing all those words from you as you petted him had that hot tingly feeling in his abdomen growing, more and more until it seemed to overtake his entire being. His vision went white as he swallowed around your flaccid length, eyes rolling back as that feeling overtook him. Kens entire body shook as he felt a sudden weight between his legs, a soft length of his own appearing, which quickly seemed to be filling up as you talked him through his orgasm.
Ken was still floating off somewhere as you pulled him to his feet, hugging him to your chest to let him calm down from such a powerful orgasm. To you at least, that was what it seemed like. Someone who came from the praise and sweet attention you gave him, but to Ken it was something completely different. He had no idea what to do with the hardening length between his thighs as he started rolling his hips into your thigh, whimpered moans leaving him as he buried his face into your shoulder.
You bit your lip as you hesitated for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “Why don’t you come home with me Ken? Just for a bit” you asked, both worried about how strong his reaction had been, as you feared maybe you had put him in subspace, but also because you didn’t want to see the blonde cute himbo go just yet. You barely had to ask before Ken was nodding into your shoulder, soft murmurs leaving him that he really wanted to go with you, please don’t leave him. So, after tucking yourself away, making yourself presentable, and grabbing Kens cowboy hat, you signed out of work and tucked Ken into the passenger seat of your car, starting the drive back to your apartment, Kens hand in yours as you kept muttering praise to the blonde, who only replied with soft whimpers and moans.
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sweetiecutie · 7 months
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Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader
Warnings: mdni, dark themes, mention of drug use and cheating, stalking, obsession, König’s pov
A/n: it’s a prequel to my Fuck or Die fic, so go check it out<3 Will this be the beginning of psychotic yan! König series?? Maybe🤭
Crouched in uncomfortable position, fabric on his knees was damp from wet soil on which König was kneeling, mosquitos buzzing all over his head, all eager to drink of his warm blood - but he didn’t budge, staying still like a panther observing its next prey. Soft rustling filled König’s ears, warm breeze ruffling up the leaves of dense shrubbery among which man sat, completely concealing his bulky form.
König’s mouth filled with saliva, dilated pupils concealed the icy blue of his eyes, making them look pitch black. He swallowed hard, exhaling as slowly as he could through his nose, a spark of excitement settling somewhere deep within his stomach, watching unblinkingly through thick lenses of his binoculars two bodies swirling together.
In a building about three hundred meters afar all widows were free from curtains, revealing the insides of the house. With thumping heart König watched guy’s hands slip down Y/n’s sides, caressing sweet indent of her waist, down to soft hips and lower, finally resting on two hemispheres of girl’s plump ass. He noted how her back arched ever so slightly, pushing further into her boyfriend’s chest, hot mouthes connecting in a sloppy kiss, bright blush dusting Y/n’s soft cheeks and pointy tips of her ears.
Breaking apart shortly after, König’s sharp eyes watched guy’s lips move. “I love you” he said and König couldn’t help but snort in amusement, memories from only few hours earlier were still fresh in his head - how that motherfucker offered to give that cute cheerleader girl from his class a ride home, pulling up in an empty parking lot, not even ten minutes later his car was shaking from side to side. Still, Y/n smiled softly at his words, making König’s jaw clench. He could do so much better.
König didn’t expect much from you at first. Truth be told - it wasn’t you who caught his attention, but your boyfriend, especially where he lived. A huge house on the outskirts - closest neighbouring cottages were at best one kilometre away, making this place a perfect target for König’s next outing. So he came to studying its inhabitants more closely - a family of three - couple in their fifties and their only son. How better can it possibly get?
So König entered his usual routine - first and most important step was to learn more about his future victims, their routines and people they were close with. It was very easy with parents - an average boring life consisting of work, household and a dinner at local restaurant every Saturday. But slasher couldn’t say the same about their child.
From the very first hours König felt deep disdain for that guy. Everything about him just felt fake. A perfect son and excellent boyfriend, captain of local football team, goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong in his whole life - everyone’s golden boy, all bright smiles and promising future. The exact same one who snorted cocaine in stale bathrooms of gas stations, hands too shaky and mind too numb from withdrawal to actually process his surroundings; the one who, stoned out of his head, gladly threw himself in embrace of other women, hardly remembering sweet face of his girlfriend.
Oh, his girlfriend. Y/n - a sweet and lovely little thing, all butterflies and unicorns, never once failing to hold König’s full attention without slightest intention of doing so.
Watching Y/n has always been way more fun and exciting for him. König guessed it had something to do with her demeanour - so drastically different from his own, that attracted him so much. How bubbly and vibrant you were, making everything around you play with new colours, just like a little ray of sunshine - something König has never been.
Oftentimes slasher caught himself listening intently to you going over newest gossip with your best friend over the phone (wiretapping is way easier than one may think), your sweet voice filling his ears like honey, soothing his raging thoughts buzzing within his skull, clinging to every smallest word you said. It didn’t take much time for König to find your socials as well, spending way much longer than he should studying your pictures, breathing becoming shallow and his dick twitching at the sight of your puffy lips, often imagining how they’d look like wrapper around his shaft.
What König took special liking of was to watch your nightly routine. It was a stable and never changing chain of events - hot shower, skincare, rubbing moisturiser into your feet, shins and hands, and then finally tucking yourself comfortably in soft bed. It was nothing special, yet König craved to be a part of it. Craved to be the one applying whatever shit that was on your pretty face, to massage good-smelling mixtures onto your cheeks
Back to reality, König watched both Y/n and that little boyfriend of hers settling down in the couch, starting some soap opera on big TV screen.
Maybe now? König’s whole body froze at sudden thought. He swallowed hard once again, his mind racing, adrenaline burning through his veins at the intensity of this idea alone. Guy’s parents were out of town, meaning that him and Y/n were all alone in the house. König glanced at the black sport bag lying right next to him on damp ground, electricity tingling his fingertips - he had all necessary stuff packed with him, just go for it.
Slasher gazed through binoculars once again, blue eyes fixating upon you two cuddled up on the couch, man’s mind now filling with all the possible things he could do to the motherfucker, sight of him holding you so gently making König’s blood boil.
Reaching over to his bag murderer opened it, pulling out his mask and checking if voice changer was working still. All of König’s thoughts dissipating into nothingness the moment soft fabric of under mask touched the skin of his cheeks, leaving place for only one thing:
Soon she will be mine
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tojjist · 4 months
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“At Least” S. Gojo
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☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)
☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader
☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.
☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).
☆ wc : 5.6k
☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao
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“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”
His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.
“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”
Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”
Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.
“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”
Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.
You're not flustered, you're angry.
“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.
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“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”
“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."
Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”
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He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.
How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?
How could he fail everyone like this?
“Gojo-San?”
Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.
“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.
And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.
“Are you okay? You seemed off.”
Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.
“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?
When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”
Spring break?
Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.
“Spring break? Why so soon?”
“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”
“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”
What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.
“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”
“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”
Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.
“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.
“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”
Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?
You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.
Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.
Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 
Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.
It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 
Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.
You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.
The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.
The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 
You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?
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“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”
"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”
“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”
“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”
You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.
You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.
“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”
“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”
Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”
“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”
“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.
“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”
“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.
“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”
“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”
Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?
Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.
What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.
Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.
“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”
From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.
Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.
His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.
The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.
“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.
He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”
“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”
Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”
“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”
27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?
“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.
The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.
The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?
He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.
You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.
Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.
The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.
“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.
“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 
But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.
“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”
Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.
“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”
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“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”
“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.
Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”
“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”
You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.
He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 
He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.
“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”
“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”
A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 
“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 
“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.
“All good things, I hope-“
“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”
“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 
“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”
“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”
His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.
“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”
Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.
“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”
“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.
“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”
Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 
“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.
“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.
“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”
“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.
You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.
You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.
You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.
“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.
He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”
You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.
You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.
Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.
“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”
You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after
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You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.
That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.
A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.
“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”
And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.
“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”
He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.
“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”
Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.
This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.
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“nngh..”
Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.
He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.
Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.
Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.
“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”
“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”
“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”
“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”
His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”
“Huh?”
You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 
He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.
“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.
You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 
“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.
What have you done?
“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”
You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”
He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.
“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”
“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“
“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”
He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.
Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.
“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 
There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.
Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.
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soxcietyy · 4 months
Text
Racer Yuta Au
Yuta x fem reader
Part 2
Your dragged to a car meet up by your uncle and you have a wonderful time. Though you and your babysitter keep getting under each others skin.
˚₊‧꒰𓆩 ♱ 𓆪꒱ ‧₊˚ forbidden love, brat, 5 year age gap. Illegal activity’s,
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"Uncle Gojo, are you sure it’s okay for me to tag along? Isnt my dad going to get mad?" You yell as he turns on his loud car. The exhaust roared loudly in the garage making it echo. Gojo was a illegal street racer, number one to be exact. He would drag race anywhere anytime. He used to work under his dad but having so much money made him pick up an expensive hobby like this. Your dad was currently in a buisness trip trying to recover lost data from the company. He might of agreed to let you explore the underground racing world when he was younger but now he retired from that. Ever since then you were to not go anywhere near such thing and he made that clear.
"Geto isnt here, plus it’s not a race it’s a car meet up. You’ll just be my plus one for the night. Cant really afforded to miss it." He says as he opens the door to his dark blue Supra.
You mumble that it’s going to be his fault if your dad found out about this as you got in. He rolls his eyes and closes the door as you got comfortable. When he got in you tightly grip the seat knowing this wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. You’ve seen your uncle drive and it did not look safe nor fun at all. Your dad would always talk about how many tickets Gojo has gotten and the cars he’s wreaked. All you could do was hope for your safety and not complain. As he drove out the garage you held your breath and with a hard step on the gas you guys were on your way.
When you arrived you reached inside your black purse and popped a mint into your mouth hoping it would relieve your anxiety. You weren’t sure if it was due to the terrifying drive or the amount of people starting to surround the car. You look at Gojo to see him smiling wide. This probably fuled his already exploding ego. You know he loved the attention and loved being the best at everything. He loved the girls, the money, but most importantly he loved crushing peoples hearts. That dream of destroying Gojo in a race might never come true for some people.
"Relax, don’t be scared nothing is going to happen to you. Nobody will lay a finger nor look at you dirty once they know your with me. Just make sure to stay clear from a few folks around here." He said before stepping out. You watch as people cheered and were asking him to rev his engine. He said a few words before coming to your door and opening it. When he did the noises from the crowed silenced. They’re probably not used to seeing him come with a plus one. From what you hear at get togethers was that his relationships are not allowed near his hobbies at all. So who knows what could be run in through these peoples minds.
When you appeared you saw that everyone had their eyes on you. Scanning you up and down to see what was good about you. Your clammy hand grabbed your other arm as you stood there shyly. Maybe you should have stayed home. Why did your dad think it was a bright idea to let Gojo babysit you. You were 18 for crying out loud.
Before you could ask Gojo if you can go back inside the car you saw someone emerging from the crowed. You watched how a tall guy with black hair and dark eyes approached your uncle and gave him a hug.
"Gojo, I didn’t think you were coming today. You told me you had business to attend to." He said as he backed up and looked at you. "Oh" was the only thing he said at you.
"Yuuta this is my niece, y/n this is Yuuta. He’s also a street racer and I guess you could say my pupil. Not trying to brag but I don’t think he would be the second best racer without my guidance." Gojo said all smug.
You’ve heard of this guy before, Gojo talked about him here and there. He’s 23 years old, one of the best drag racers, your uncles pupil, calm, friendly, but had a scary aura around him. He was in your dad’s last race, Yuuta ended up coming second meaning he beat your dad. Then your dad simply retired, not because he lost but because he knew it was time to look for something new.
You give him a small wave as you stepped behind Gojo a bit. This guy was pretty scary looking, not only because of his hight but you could feel something off.
"So is she also a far distant relative to me?" Yuta asks bringing his attention back to Gojo.
Ah that’s right they were related in someway now that you remember.
Gojo laughed and shook his head. He leaned towards Yutas ear and whispered something only you could hear. "She’s Geto’s daughter."
Yuuta looked at him shocked before looking at you again to see if he could spot the similarities. You glare at Gojo knowing that your dad wouldn’t want these kinds of people knowing about his daughter.
"Hey now that you’re here, I kind of have to talk to Sukuna for a bit as much as I hate the thought of it but it’s about the next race. Can’t have y/n around or Geto will kill me if people know who she is. Can you watch her for me? She’s a good kid and won’t be a bother." Gojo said as he pushed you towards him.
"Oh yea that’s fine." Yuta said as he looked down at you to make sure you were okay with it too.
Not like you had much of a say since Gojo smiled and gave you a thumbs up as he left. You both stood there for a minute until Yuuta spoke up.
"There about to start doing doughnuts want to go look?" He asks.
You give him a nod and follow him to where a crowed was forming. Pushing your way through to the front you could see a large space in the middle. You could see burnt tire marks from past meets on the road. You were so excited when you saw a mustang come out from the crowed. It was bright orange with black streaks. It had custom rims and such cool details on it. The crowed started cheering as the show started. The car started going in circles leaving skids on the floor. You could hear how it screeched at sharp turns and how the rubber burned. This was way better than seeing it through social media. You look behind you to see Yuuta smiling but he wasn’t looking at the car. He was looking at you.
After that finished he took you around the lot to look at other cars. So many different models, so many different body kits. No car looked the same and some were exotic. You met so many new people and had great conversations about how they managed to get there car to look at that. Yuuta also spoke to people but you didn’t pay much attention nor did he pay much attention to yours or so you thought. A guy came up to you and started to flirt with you. Saying how he would love to take you on a date and talk more. He said he loved your energy and style. He then proceeded to ask for your number but Yuuta stepped in and put a stop to that. You were kind of irritated by it seeing that he just cock blocked you.
"Let’s head to my car, I need to make sure nobody is messing with it. We have to be more careful and make sure nothing is tampered with now that Sukuna is here." Yuuta says as he leads you through the crowed. It was a bit hard for you to keep up seeing how he took long fast strides. You were wearing heels didn’t help the situation either. People looked shocked seeing Yuuta with a girl. Did these men lack in women or is their a rule to not bring a female to such gathering? Though when you took a good look in the crowed there was a good mix of everyone.
Eventually you made it to a white Nissan GTR. It actually quite suited him but you also took him for a Subaru type of guy.
People surrounded his car too, taking pictures of it and while looking at the details. "Alright I’m going to chat with these guys for a while so just do whatever 16 year olds do. Also don’t accept anything that isn’t from me, understand?" He says,
You looked at him in disbelief that he thought you were younger. "I’m actually 18 sir, we’re not that far apart according to Gojo. Five years to be exact." You say as you walk to the back of his car. He stood there shocked, probably trying to figure out how old your dad was when you were born. Spoiler alert it was when he was 15! Usually people think you’re joking when you say he’s your dad.
Suddenly a girl grabbed his arm taking his attention from you. She was tall and had short hair, almost like a greenish black hue. They seem to be fond of each other if they’re smiling and hugging. Maybe that was his girlfriend.
You sigh as you lean on his car while you scroll through social media. The car meet was going great but you didn’t appreciate being passed around to be babysat when you were a grown adult. The breeze blew making you shiver. Maybe it was a bad idea to wear a tight skirt with a small top. While you cursed under your breath everytime the wind blew someone was getting closer.
"Got bored of watching your boyfriend flirt with another girl?" You hear someone say. You turn to see a guy with blue hair and Heterochromia eyes.
"He’s not my boyfriend but I am bored. Came to entertain me?"
You lift up a brow curious to know why he came up to you. He makes up a small conversation that had you actually happy to engage in. Finally someone who didn’t belittle you nor treat you as a kid. He was somewhat surprised that you knew more about car than he initially thought. All those hours of watching your dad nerd out about cars payed off. He offered to give you a free ride around the block but you declined knowing Yuuta would freak out about it. Though you were interest what ride he had. Could it be a classic? Or a newer car that was modified.
"Hey don’t you think wearing something like that is too scandalous? Such a short skirt for this cold weather too." He says looking at your body.
Your hand touched the tiny goosebumps on your leg.
"Yea I was kinda rushed out the house so I didn’t really plan this outfit out. Are you trying to say you don’t like it?"
He held his hands up in defense, "no no I quite love it. It suites your body so well and- oh it seems we might be in some trouble. Seems your guard dog has finally payed attention to you." He says nodding his head to the person walking behind you. "Glad we could exchange contact information. Here just in case you get parched. Seems like you’re not being well taken care of right." He says as he hands you a water bottle.
You happily accept it as you watch him walk away. He was right about not being taken care of right. You have yet to eat dinner and would have loved if someone handed you a jacket. Bringing the bottle to your lips you take a sip. The cold water made you shiver a bit. You suddenly felt your body be pulled by the arm. Then shoved to the side of the car. You look up surprised to see a not so happy Yuuta over you. You back pressed hard against the car as he looked at you with thoes dark eyes. He ripped the bottle out of your hand and poured it onto the floor.
"Did I not say to not accept anything that isn’t from me?" He says.
You let out a sigh as you cross your arms and look away. "I’m thirsty, at least someone cared for me. Your busy chatting with a girl and left me alone."
"And what the do you know about being treated right? This place isn't safe for innocent gullible girls like you." He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. "Get in the car, clearly you can’t be trusted to follow directions." He says as he opens the door next to you.
You couldn’t believe Gojo said this man was calm and friendly. That was an absolute lie, he was such an ass and so much more.
You stood in your spot refusing to do what he says. He looked at you with such a demanding look but that wasn’t going to make you break. Your dad taught you to be strong. No man was going to tell you what to do. You both stood there for a minute before he slammed the door closed and grabbed you. In a quick second he lifted you up and sat you on the hood of the car. You gasp as he spread your legs open causing your skirt to slowly lift up. He then proceeded to put his body in between you.
"Didn’t think Gojos niece was such a brat, listen I’m in charge of you and your going to do exactly as I say even if you don’t like it, it’s not because I hate you but this is for your safety." He said as he placed his hands on both of your sides.
He was so close that you could see the turtle neck under his black leather jacket. The veins in his neck that pulsed as he grew more irritated. You could smell the cologne that he was wearing and feel his warmth. You couldn’t help but notice how good looking he looked like this as much as you hated him right now.
Okay maybe he was a little bit too good looking right now. All of a sudden you felt too shy to meet his gaze. "I don’t want to go in, I want to stay out here with you." You say as he sighed sounding unconvinced.
He looked down as his watch before responding to you. "Fine, but you better be on your best behavior. I don’t like girls who don’t listen." He says as he takes of his leather jacket and wraps it around you. You have no idea why but those words did something to you. For the rest of the night you stood next to him listening to him talk. You looked at the way he spoke, the way he laughed, how his Adam’s Apple would move up and down, how the veins in his arms showed when he opened his hood and showed the inside work. You were almost like a dumbfounded little puppy looking at its owner. Sometimes he would smile when he caught you looking at him.
you weren't embarrassed to admit to yourself that you've grew a crush on him just in the few hours that youve spent with him. It was normal for a girl to fall for a guy this fast right?
You end up falling asleep in his car by the time Gojo decided to appear. He lazy strolled towards Yuta who was getting ready to go for the night.
"Sorry I took so long, kind of got into an altercation. Hes not so easy to talk too." He says as he points at his busted lip. "Oh I see she fell asleep, tired the little brat out huh?" Gojo says as he looks at you snooze from the open window.
"So you knew she was a brat but painted her as an Angel huh?" Yuuta smirked.
"She’s my niece, obviously I’m going maker her seem like that. Hey you didn’t do anything funny right? She has a tendency of somehow getting what she wants." He said looking at him serious for a minute. Yuuta knew what he meant by that and simply shook his head.
"I respect you too much to lay hands on her." Yuuta spoke as he walked to the door and opened it.
"Good, I’ll take her from here then, also the next race i-" a crowed of running people caught Gojos eye before he could finish. Both of the men watched in silence waiting to see what was the cause of chaos. The second they saw red and blue lights they looked at each other.
"On second thought you keep her for now. She’s going to slow me down if I take her right now. Meet up at your house." Gojo said as he started running to his car that was across the parking lot.
Yuuta quickly ran to his car as people began to yell that 12 was in the area. Cars began to turn on to escape causing the place to light up. Yuuta reached for your belt and tightened it on you, soon after he pressed on the gas and left the area speeding. This wasn’t his first run in with the police so he was confident in not being caught. That was until he reached sudden traffic causing him to break hard, both of your body’s lurch foward and then back. This waking you up with a panicked expression.
"What’s going on?!" You say looking at him.
"Just going out for a ride.” He says trying not to freak you out.
"Oh that’s really lovely did the police department also decide to tag along? You have four of them a few cars behind us by the looks of it." You say.
The second the light turned green he accelerated, weaving through the slow traffic. You squeezed the door handle as he easily went over the speed limit. You were too young to already have a criminal record. You may not get charged as bad as he does but they will still charge you as an accomplice. How would this affect you college application? The car swerved every sharp turn he made until he made it to a dark neighborhood. In one go he turned the wheel completely to the right and drove up to drive way. He quickly turned the car off and unbuckled his belt.
"We need to get off now." He says as he opens his door. You proceed to do the same but by the time you get out you could see the cops patrolling the area, shinning there flashlights to every car. Yuuta quickly grabbed you and pushed you on the floor behind some bushes. His body laying low on top of yours. Both of you are breathing heavily as you could hear someone approach the car. Shinning the light inside the car to see if he could find anyone. Those few minutes felt like eternity and while you should have been worried about being caught all you could think about was the body over you. You look up at him to see his serious face looking around. Trying to figure out if the coast was clear. His face was dam from all of this. Sweat slowly rolling down his face even if it was a cold night.
You wanted him so bad, you wanted to pull him in and kiss him, you wanted to make him yours. You could just imagine being with someone like him. So mature, so tall, so protecting. His chest rose up and down quickly as he tried to catch his breath. He looks at you once again and leans into you.
"What are you looking at like that?" He whispers into your ear making you burn up.
"Nothing! Im just scared, this is a first for me." You say sitting up as he backs up.
When you guys tried to look for the officer you noticed he was now gone. You flatten your skirt down and brush off the dirt from yourself. He proceeded to stand and helps you up by grabbing your soft hand.
Walking to his car he reaches inside to grab something out of it. You follow behind intrigued by his actions. When he gets back to you he’s holding your purse in his hand that you must’ve left. Seeing a big guy like him holding your tiny hand purse made you feel like he was your boyfriend. You could just imagine how that would be like. You shyly thank him as he hands it to you.
You ponder weather you should drop a hint of you being interested in him or just dropping the bomb. You debate until you decided not to drag things around. "Have you ever wanted something bad but knew you had no chance?" You ask him.
He stood there for a second. Hands in his pockets as he thought about the answer. You guessed he did have something like. It made you wonder if he was able to achieve it. "What has you feeling that way? From what I heard you have a tendency of getting anything you want. So I really wouldn’t be worried about it."
You laugh as you lean onto his car. Looking at him in the eyes as you smile. "If I tell you want I want, will tell me if I’m capable of achieving it?"
He gives you a nod signaling for you to continue. You put your purse on top of the car as you approached him. Wrapping your arms around his neck and getting onto the tips of your toes, you whisper three simple words.
"I want you."
You say as you pull back to look at him. You could see the tips of his ears turning red from the dim light his house provided. His cheeks than began to flush. You were astonished seeing him act this way, you’ve seen him interact with girls today but he didn’t act like this. Did this mean he also had some interest in you?
"You don’t want me y/n, I’m not the type of guy you think I am, you don’t know me." He grabbed your arms from around his neck and put them down. "Well I’m going to get to know you." You intertwined your fingers with his.
"I’m a very jealous, serious, and aggressive guy. I wouldn’t want to ruin your innocence and take advantage of a girl like you. To top it all off your Gojos niece, and your dad wouldn’t want to see you with a guy involved with illegal things."
"I have a feeling that it’s because of our age gap." You cross your arms. You were disappointed in being turned down like this.
"Listen Angel I could give less fuck’s about being five years apart. I just don’t think I’m capable of maintaining something so pure and innocent. It’s like giving a tiger a bunny. He’s just going to eat her alive." He said holding your chin up so you could look at him. "So run while you can and find someone better."
You push his hand away "and what if I don’t run? What if I keep crawling back to you? You have no idea what you’ve done to me Yuuta. I’ve never felt so desperate for someone before." You say as you hug him.
"I need you so bad Yu." You bury your face in his chest.
"Y/n we can’t, I- what about Gojo? If he finds out he’s going to kill me." He says trying to fight off the urge to embrace you back.
You let go of him and look at him with your puppy eyes. You were begging him at this point to give you a chance. You just needed him to see that you were worth his time. He slowly runs his hands through his hair stressed.
"Fine but don’t make me regret this."
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chrollosbm · 5 months
Text
Satoru Gojo is into Some Weird Roleplay (Christmas Smut)
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art cr: glowx_21 on x
hey idk what this is LMAOO. i thought of this randomly bc gojo reminds me of a certain christmas character so i just ran with it! he's one of my three husbands who i love so much so i wanted to write about him. i'm so feral for him it's not even funny. anyways, i hope you enjoy and don't take it too seriously, unless you want to idc! mdni.
domestic gojo, husband gojo, dad gojo
female reader, no description of her features but i’m black so
warnings: piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, satoru won't shut up, dom gojo
i'm on ao3, pls support me there too!
wc: 1500+
“Satoru,” You surprised yourself in the way you were able to let out a single word with his unrelenting thrusts. “Baby. P-please slow down.” 
The man who was currently plummeting into you from behind let out a click of his tongue, ignoring your request and instead opted with a loud and hard smack to your ass, his pace somehow getting faster and harder. His hips were ruthless against the fat of your ass, creating clapping noises throughout the large bedroom.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He let out breathlessly, his tone as playful as ever, waiting for you to address him the right way.
You wanted to reach back and knock some sense into him, tell him to slow his thrusts before he knocked the wind out of you and woke up the children. His deep and powerful thrusts prohibited you from saying much though, with his fat cock reaching your g-spot so effortlessly that you were seeing stars.
If you could roll your eyes right now you would, but your body seemed to forget how to function, only capable of following the orders of your ridiculous but gorgeous husband behind you. “Saint Nick…please.” It would’ve sounded ridiculous to you if you weren’t being plummeted to Neptune with each touch of your gummy spot deep within you, but you were being fucked so stupid that you would call him God if he asked. “You don’t wanna wake up the little elves do you?” You played along as you continued panting, fingers grasping the silk sheets tightly, tears in your eyes from the intense pleasure.
You thought he was ignoring you again, with his long fingers digging deeper into your hips before he slowed his pace, deciding on an unhurried, rough one, sliding in and out of those warm, wet walls of yours with a long and drawn out “fuuuuuck,” leaving his mouth. “The elves are fast asleep, baby. Don’t worry about them, just take Santa’s dick, mmkay’?” His voice was jolly as ever, just like Santa Claus himself, and you would’ve laughed if his cock wasn’t basically touching your brain at this point. You could only let out small whimpers as he arched your back further, reaching only a place he could.
Why you agreed on letting your dear husband roleplay as Santa was beyond you, but Satoru had a way with words. All he had to do was promise to make you feel good, make you cum all night long, pretty please baby, in that convincing, deep voice of his, a pout on his features, those bright blue eyes begging, so how could you say no? 
You should have made some more conditions, one being to say no to the bells he had attached to the bed frame, with them ringing with each jerk of his hips, creating an impossibly loud jingle. He said it would get the two of you in the “Christmas spirit,” with the bed decorated in lights and ringing balls, sounding like a real sleigh everytime the bed hit the wall in full force. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by Satoru pulling himself out of you, leaving you empty and missing him already, causing a whine to leave your lips as he flipped you over as if you weighed nothing, before settling in between your legs again. You were faced with the beautiful man you were so grateful to call yours, his cerulean orbs were darkened somehow as they stared into yours, looking dazed and drunk off your pussy, his pupils slightly dilated. His pretty white follicles were tucked into a red santa hat, the puffy ball tossed on the side, sweat trickling from his temples from wrecking your insides. He had that adorable, innocent smile on his face, as if he wasn’t guilty of talking you into this comical predicament in the first place. 
“Will Mrs. Claus let me put the beard on again?” He let out, a pout forming on his pink lips, glossy from sweat and saliva.
“No, don’t ask again!” You almost yelled, your face scrunched in annoyance and he let out a booming laugh at your immediate response. 
Satoru did have a cheap, plastic beard that matched his white hair perfectly, but you made him take it off for a couple reasons. One being it looked terrible. As beautiful as the man above you was as he was staring down at you, shallow breaths coming from his perfectly shaped, rock hard abdomen, and his rosy cheeks, the beard made him look…creepy. Two being it was damn itchy. He had been going down on you when he had it on, but it was impossible for you to focus on his holy tongue work and perfect movements of his fingers, curving into you, hitting that spot that had you crying out his name for the night (fucking Saint Nick.) Once it began scratching your legs painfully, you’d forced him to take it off, which he did with a whine, throwing the damp, shitty excuse for a beard across the bedroom floor, before making you cum from his tongue alone, more than once.
Your husband’s wide grin was replaced with something immodest as he gripped your thighs, pulling you forward, and slipped inside torturously slow, earning a gasp from the both of you. His head was thrown back and his lip was caught in his teeth, causing your pussy to throb from both the feeling of warmth and fullness again, and Satoru’s effortless way of making you feel hot inside just by simple facial expressions, subsequently making a groan escape his lips before sinking into you completely, touching your gummy spot immediately with the angle he entered.
He kept your legs apart as he thrust into you forcefully and fast-paced again, with you giving no complaints this time about the commotion the jingling bed frame was causing. You didn’t care, for he was taking you to heaven in this position, goosebumps erupting from your skin and seeing black dots in your vision with each time he reached a new depth inside you. Your cunt was competing with the loud noises of those stupid fucking bells as it made sloshing noises throughout the room, and when you looked down, you could see your juices dripping onto his pretty, pale, absolutely perfect cock. 
As if he could read your mind, he spoke for you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. My god.” His head was no longer tilted back, but also looking down as your tight, slippery cunt sucked in his dick, a feral look on his features, absolutely enamored by the sight. His pace never let up, his hips moving at the speed of light almost as he used one hand to press on your lower stomach, making it feel better than you thought possible. “You feel me in there? You feel Santa’s cock abusing this perfect little cunt?” His goofy grin returned and you couldn’t do anything but let out a loud moan of approval, face twisted up, still entertaining his mess because this just felt too fucking good. 
His hand moved from your tummy to focus on your clit, fingers rubbing small, soft circles, completely catching you off guard. Your legs began to tremble from the insane pleasure you were feeling, hands clenching the sheets so hard again you were surprised they didn’t come off the corners of the bed. 
“Can I make you a mommy again? Put another little helper in this belly?” That feral look was in his eyes again, tone as light as ever, as he slowed down, choosing a rough ram motion, causing your tits to jiggle at the change of pace, making Satoru groan at the sight, mouth halfway open. You didn’t know if it was the mind fog you felt from him fucking you brainless, but you nodded vigorously as tears fell down your cheeks, that white hot feeling in your veins approaching, mind so numb you would probably agree to having ten more of his white-haired, blue-eyed children. The two of your already had four, three you’d birthed and one you adopted, but you didn’t care right now, you felt like he had seriously taken you to the North Pole with the way his cock was basically fucking your guts.
His infamous smile returned before leaning down to place his lips on yours, barely kissing you, just sticking his minty tongue in your mouth and panting, speaking incoherent sentences along the lines of you being a “good girl,” and “taking his load so well.” You couldn’t comprehend a thing anyway, as your body began convulsing, washing over with relief as your orgasm was drawn out of you, long and bone shattering, with your back arching off the bed with a squeal that was hard to keep inside your body.
Satoru wasn’t too far behind you, with his eyes closed tightly, as his hips began twitching, the first time all night they didn’t have a consistent rhythm and he groaned out loudly, spurting long, hot ropes of his cum inside you.
His eyes opened soon after, those beautiful blue orbs staring at you adoringly with his signature wide grin on his face, in which you returned, panting heavily, so thankful for this beautiful, insane, goofy husband of yours. He grabbed the comforter and placed it over the two of you, kissing your lips softly, his breath heavy as the two of you exchanged small “i love you’s” back and forth.
“Mommy?” A small voice came from the corner of the room and your heart dropped, recognizing it as your three year old daughter’s, afraid of what she might’ve seen. Satoru hid under the covers, his hat coming off in the process and you had a full view of her now, with her candy cane nightgown and teddy bear in her arms, her lip quivering with tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, ready to get up and comfort your youngest, afraid something happened as it was past midnight on Christmas Eve. God, did the bells wake her up?
She stomped out the room before you could get up, wailing and yelling for her older brother. “Megumi! Mommy was kissing Santa!” Her cries could be heard throughout the entire house and you knew everyone would be awake by now.
Satoru’s loud laugh could also be heard throughout the entire house, its jollyness rivaling Saint Nick himself. 
my masterlist!
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 5 months
Note
The gojo/m!reader fic is just *chef’s kiss* I fucking love your writing. I know you just posted part 3 and I don’t want to be greedy but can we expect a part 4? 👁️
Lawd, don’t tempt me, nonnie! I have so many headcanons and ideas that I wanted to include but they did not feel relevant to the plot. 😭 Okay - not making any promises! We’ll see how it goes because I have some other fics lined up first! ( ´Д`)y━・~~
Below is the original ending of the fic as a treat! I didn’t write it out originally because I dislike reader-insert endings with a definitive end, I like giving room for the reader to be able to create infinite scenarios with the plot provided (`_´)ゞ
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alternate ending, angst with comfort | not proofread! | wc: 1.5 k
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“You gave him a run for your money, huh? I told him it was a cruel idea.”
Air does not inflate your lungs but you inhale anyway, if only to feel your chest rise and fall. He reaches his hand out, and that onyx gaze makes your vision blurry.
“S’guru...?”
Clasping at your cheeks, you try to grasp the reality before you. Nails scratching at your skin as you cast your gaze downwards to your lap. The familiar colour of deep navy blue causes more tears to fall.
“What?” Those vortex-patterned buttons shimmer under the warm lights and Suguru’s hands invade your vision as he gently circles his fingers around your wrist.
“(Y/N), it’s alright. Everything is alright now.” His voice felt like honey, just like before. He’s not decayed or pale or rotten. Suguru is wearing his uniform - like before. Before the Star Plasma incident, before his betrayal, before his death, before your resentment contorted your memory of him into a grotesque spirit.
“You gave it your all. You can rest now.”
The sight past his shoulders is bright and cloudless. The silver beams that hold the glass together meld up and up and up into the roof. The floors are glistening, with not one footprint or stain and the pops of green from the potted plants and the distant forests beyond the glass make your shoulders droop.
“...Where...”
He squeezes your wrist and stands, you have no choice but to do the same.
When you do, he wraps his arms around you. A tight, comforting, squeeze that makes your arms hang awkwardly out with twitching fingers. Your clothes spill from between his hold and you can feel the fine hairs on his cheeks.
“You had every right to hate me, (Y/N). It wasn’t your fault. I don’t hate you, I swear I don’t.”
Tears stream down your face. They feel so cooling, unlike the usual burning that follows.
“I missed you, (Y/N).”
“Suguru...”
“I missed you too. Suguru.”
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“(Y/N). Where is he?”
Silence befalls the room. His eyes search and pane from every face to every molecule in the air. As terrifying a thought as it is, Satoru’s six eyes hover unseen over his shoulders. Each pupil looks this way or that way. Some have more than one, long downward-facing lashes fluttering as it darts and consumes the sights before it.
They’re hungrier now. Famished from the timeless chamber that was the Prison Realm.
They’re hungry to lay themselves on you.
Drink in your beauty once more. Drown in your presence and weep when you meet their gaze.
You are not here.
The silence is too familiar.
Satoru feels his chest tighten.
“Mr Gojo,” Yuji steps forward and Shoko purses her lips so Satoru steels his expression. Yuji will tell him you are dead, he will tell him how you perished and if Satoru is lucky (which he hasn’t felt lucky in a long time) Yuji will tell him your body was here.
But Yuji says nothing.
He extends his hand after fishing something out of his pocket and Satoru feels a familiar weight in his palm.
It’s your wedding ring.
The other half to his own that he wore.
He thought you’d melted it down. He’d never seen you wear it after that night.
Were you sentimental too?
Satoru recalls the old books your mother had that left holes in his bookshelves - tracks of their departure shredding through the dust like a stampede of hooves. The drawings that were made in crayon and pens and paint by your children, lining the hallways of home or the fridge (”like the Americans do,” you joked). There were even documents you kept, receipts, of things that held no more value.
You were full of memories just like he was.
He stared at the ring. Delicate, detailed and forlorn without its user.
“He told me he had a plan,” Yuji’s fist shake as he speaks.
“Mr (Y/N) said he’d be alright. He told me to trust him and that everything would be okay. He just told me to get as many comrades out of the area so I did. He - He slipped the ring in my pocket and I didn’t notice.”
You’d been revealed by Sukuna, grasped by the back of your head like a toy. You were decorated like one. Those heavy, patterned, robes and styled hair and painted face. Even with pain contorting your expression you looked as pretty as a doll.
“Lovely sight, isn’t it, my concubine?” Sukuna croons. “You’ve made such an array of allies in my absence. Uruame tells me you’ve even mauled your father, how terrifying.”
Uruame, that bastard. The girl - no. The person that’d been bowing and showing you that horrid swirl pattern on their head - they’d been keeping an eye on you. Ever since you were a child, they’d kept track. To prepare you for Sukuna? Or just to make sure their master's return was celebrated with a feast to please his every desire?
His grip tightens and your yell makes Yuji’s anger simmer under his skin.
‘ I’ll leave the rest to you. ‘ Nanami had told him.
“Sukuna,” he growls out.
The King of Curses, with those lovely eyes Yuji cherished so dearly, smiled like a mad man.
“Oi, brat. Shall I show you how deeper into despair I can take you?”
“Sukuna told Mr (Y/N) to kill us or he’d do it himself. Neither of us expected him to,” Yuji trails off, his nails digging crescent moon shapes into his palms. It’s Yuta who finishes the sentence for him;
“He used Divine Flame to its greatest height. As a way to stop Sukuna from chasing after us and as a way to weaken him.”
“...He had sacrificed himself, is that what you’re saying?” Satoru watches Yuta nod and as Yuji sullenly does the same, Choso comes to his side.
“His flames are still burning. They’re fading but, he did weaken Sukuna considerably,” Shoko says. Satoru knows she’s just taking her time to tell him there is no corpse to be buried. You were gone in the wind and once the remnants of your cursed energy faded there’d be nothing left of you but memories and things; they’d collect dust and grief but none would satisfy Satoru.
He doesn’t mind the way they look at him as he unclasps the silver necklace around his neck to slip your ring. It joins Suguru’s button and he finds himself unable to curse the Gods.
Instead, Satoru closes his eyes to pray.
‘ Watch over me, ‘ he pleads.
It lasts no more than a second. His eyes open but they find themselves searching for hair that shines like vinyl and (E/C) coloured eyes that make heaven weep despite what he’s learned.
The best thing he can hope to do now is free Megumi and Tsumiki of their ailments. Then, then...he’ll bury them.
He’ll bury his family.
“Nanami. Is there a body?”
The furrowing of Yuji’s brows make Satoru’s cheek twitch.
“We’ll bury their things then. Side by side.”
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There’s a familiar presence next to him. His scent wafted up Satoru’s nose in a way that made his eyes water. He knows him by the way he breathes, the way he walks, the sound of his hair being tied into a bun.
Suguru is beside him.
He doesn’t know how it’s possible that they’re together once again but a quick glance around and he’s quick to figure it out.
Ah.
He wanted to win so badly.
They talk. They talk like nothing has happened. As if the years were mere footnotes in their story like friends reuniting again after some distance.
Behind him, Yū and Kento are sat. They tease and jest. He yells at Principal Yaga about dying with regret, he sees Riko and Misato talking to each other in their own corner of rhe world.
Kento huffs, Kento smiles.
“If you stop flitting your eyes so wildly you’ll find him, Gojo.” Suguru and Yū chuckle at Satoru’s expression. Kento twists his upper half and points to the windows.
“That woman...” Satoru’s eyes widen.
It’s unmistakably your mother. Her hair, her skin, her posture - youthful and healthy. He sees tiny hands clutching to her shoulder, a head of (H/C) peeking from over it and then your eyes blinking sheepishly up at her.
You’re in your mother's arms, a boy once again as she cradles you close to her.
When your eyes meet him, he sees the bashful way they avert themselves and your mother chuckles as she smooths out your hair. Kento hums and Yū tells him to stand, so Kento does.
Your mother’s smile is as warm as it's always been. Puts the damn sun to shame, really. She presses a kiss to your head then sets you down and with inward facing steps, you walk towards Kento.
With each step, you grow and grow and Satoru thinks of how nice it was that you’re spending your youth with Kento for an eternity now.
Because as you stand in front of Kento in your school uniform, with the bright smile you had in those old photographs, he feels his heart soar. The rings clink softly against each other as he leans back and wraps an arm around Suguru’s shoulder.
Your arms wrap around Kento’s neck and he wraps them around your waist.
“I hope you did not wait long, Ken.” He squeezes you tightly and sighs, “I would wait an eternity for you, my love.”
482 notes · View notes
flordeamatista · 2 years
Text
𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚
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pairing:  soft dark!professor andy barber x reader
concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap , edging, fingering,  fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited,  power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)
a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.
the cute gif and moodboard made by me
line divider: @s-tarksintern
lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming
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Masterlist
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His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire
After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.
As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you. 
It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.
Now, who do you break your rules for?
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"Professor Barber..."
You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.
"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.
You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded.  Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.
Your email glared back at you, taunting you :
Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.
 The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.
Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.
You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow  staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.
Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.
A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart. 
As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.
In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into  yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email." 
Nervously, you swallowed.
How could you be so stupid to send him that email?
It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.
"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."
The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs. 
You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”
You paused.
Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"
It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.
"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.
You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when  it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt. 
"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.
Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel  the wetness that was his.
"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."
You lost control from the  the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed  that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman. 
"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.
Was this an exam of desire?
"You are such a-"
Your insult cut short by a harsh slap. 
The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire. 
"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.
But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.
The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.
"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter. 
Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."
Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send”  The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.
You are sober but drunk with desire.  His desire. His attention.
You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.
A man who just needed you.
With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.
"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.
In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.
His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body
"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled  his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"
You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him. 
Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.
“Professor…”
"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"
“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat. 
You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.
“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.
A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.
“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."
You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy. 
Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.
"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the neck to stand straight.
“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.” 
You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut
Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.
Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.
Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat. 
You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.
Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.
Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your head, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair. 
He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping  around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.
The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.
The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down  on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.
"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"
He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy. 
His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.
“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end. 
You knew his game of seduction.
You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.
“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.
The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.
“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut
The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.
“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”
“Please…” you begged.
"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"
Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.
He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.
Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.
It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop." 
Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "
It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.". 
Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.
"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.
A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?" 
You couldn’t answer him.  You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.
Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
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The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on. 
You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.
To know what is his, he needs to see it.
In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.
Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.
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4K notes · View notes
zablife · 11 days
Note
Hi was wondering if I could please ask for a smut Tommy request.
Where your the new barmaid of the garrison and during your shift the feelings for needing and wanting tommy grow and he has to make you his .
If that’s something you can write, understand if your super busy can easily wait
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You're My Girl
Tommy x barmaid reader
Warnings: 🔞 smut
"Tommy, what are you doing down here?" you asked in surprise as you deposited the heavy crate in your arms.
"Thought you could use some help," he replied, shucking off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves.
"You don't have to do that," you waved him off in gentle protest. "I'm nearly finished."
He lingered for a bit, watching you sweep the hair from your forehead and you smirked as you caught him out of the corner of your eye. "Was there something else?"
"I've been thinking about you all day. Had to come see ya," he admitted, a slight slur to his words from the celebratory drinks he'd consumed.
"I've been upstairs all night," you reminded him with a light-hearted giggle. "You should know, you've been watching that bar like a hawk. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous," you teased with a wag of your finger.
Tommy held your gaze as he closed the distance between you, his smoldering stare silencing you momentarily. You bit your lip as his large palm cupped your cheek, voice rumbling through the dark cellar. "M not jealous," came his soft, yet firm denial.
With a wanton sigh, you leaned your forehead against his, eyes slipping closed now that you could savor a moment alone. The memory of him stood protectively behind you earlier, hot breath fanning your neck and body slotted against yours as he helped you pour pints would have suggested otherwise.
"Everyone knows you're my girl," he declared, grazing a thumb over your cheek.
"Is that so?" you ventured, neither of you having put words to the flirtation that had been building for weeks. In truth you were going mad at the thought of fucking your handsome boss and wondered what might happen if you told him so. Gazing up at him through your lashes, you whispered enticingly, "Say you want me and I'm yours."
"Oh, I do," he promised. "All of you," he hummed, eyes roving your body hungrily.
"Then take me," you whispered against his lips, leaving a tender kiss against his chapped skin.
Your stomach fluttered with anticipation as he studied you, his bright blue irises giving way to the inky blackness of rapidly dilating pupils. "In a crowded pub? Naughty girl," he chided.
Before you could put on a convincing pout, Tommy caught you off guard, leaving you breathless as his fingers ghosted over your throat. "You'll have to be quiet for me," he warned in a dangerously low voice.
"And hide the fact that I'm all yours?" you mischievously challenged with a sultry arch of your brow.
"Unless you want to be interrupted as I do this," he commented nonchalantly, his free hand raising your skirt to your waist and revealing your bottom half to the cool night air. The moment he caught sight of your nakedness, an animalistic groan tore from his throat. "Fuck you look good like this," he rumbled.
Your head tipped back against the shelves, glass clinking quietly as Tommy guided your leg to rest upon his hip. With a warm exhale of breath and the swirl of his tongue along your collarbone, your heart began pounding in desire.
Taking that as his cue to continue, Tommy's thick fingers swept along your dewy folds, collecting your glistening wetness as he felt his own arousal growing by the second. His fingers stretching you open to pleasant fullness, your breathing became shallow and you confessed your growing need. "Please...," you begged in an incoherent mumble as he increased the pressure on your g-spot.
"Please, what?" he asked as though he had no idea the effect he had.
"Fuck me now," you panted as his thumb began circling your swollen bud. He grinned back at you as you arched for him, sending another wave of glasses teetering precariously. You barely noticed as your hand grappled for a hold against the ledge, knocking a bottle of whisky to the floor just as Tommy captured your mouth in a ravenous kiss.
Suddenly the door to the cellar opened and a stream of light shot past your feet, threatening to reveal your compromising position. "Y/n? What's taking so long?" Arthur's voice boomed into the quiet space.
You froze, unable to think of a lie as his footsteps began to thud down the stairs, your heart rate increasing to its rhythm. Suddenly he stopped, eyes following the trail of amber liquid seeping from behind the tall shelves. "What the fuck you doing, eh?"
Then as his eyes began to adjust in the dim light, he caught sight of a familiar jacket. "Is that you, Tom?" he ventured suspiciously.
Your head shot up, eyes darting frantically to Tommy as he hushed you softly. A devilish grin spread across his face as he withdrew his fingers from your pussy and slid them into your mouth, pressing against your tongue gently to silence you. "Y/n needed a bit of help. We're just finishing up," he called over his shoulder.
As the taste of your arousal coated your tongue and Tommy's stubbled cheek pressed kisses into your jawbone, you nearly forgot Arthur's presence. You were momentarily calmed, sucking softly at his digits, but the sound of Arthur's boots scuffing against the floor caused you to gurgle in frightened reply.
Mustache twitching with amusement, Arthur bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he attempted a peek at what he was certain was your bare thigh before Tommy's husky voice ordered, "Go back and enjoy the party, brother."
Arthur huffed out a laugh as he smoothed his hair back. "Yeah, alright, but watch the fucking whisky will ya?"
Free to continue your debauchery, the corners of your mouth curled into a wide smile. Tommy's fingers dropped from your lips with a trickle of saliva running down your chin in eager anticipation.
"We'll have to make this quick," Tommy whispered with a wink.
You gave a fierce nod as your fingers flew to his belt buckle, heat growing in your cheeks as your hand found his cock and began stroking him to hardness. He was even bigger than you imagined and a shot of electricity ran down your spine at the thought of having him inside you.
He didn't waste any time allowing you to daydream, however, the reality of the blissful moment you'd anticipated barreling toward you as he turned you to face the wall. His large hand pinned your wrists above your head as he pushed into you with a satisfied grunt, stilling when he'd bottomed out.
Despite your expectation for a quick fuck, he was surprisingly gentle with his first few thrusts, allowing you time to adjust to his size. Your head rolled to the side as he planted kisses between your shoulder blades, sending chills throughout your entire body.
As you shuddered beneath him, he relinquished your hands to roam your body to deliver even more pleasure, deft fingers sliding beneath the bodice of your dress to roll and pinch your sensitive nipples to stiff peaks.
Tommy strained to hear each shaky exhale and whimper from you, feeling the notes of your angelic voice course through his veins until they made his cock throb with need inside your fluttering walls. He enjoyed holding you there as long as he could have you, never wanting to let go.
However, you quickly grew impatient and began to push your ass back against him for more. "Harder," you urged feverishly.
He couldn't deny he was ready to snap himself, for his torture upon you was also his own. Soon his rough hands grasped your hips in a bruising hold. Nails leaving half crescent shaped marks in your delicate flesh, he began pistoning into you with reckless abandon.
Your hands grappled against the cold, concrete wall, bracing yourself as you lost yourself in a haze with each well placed thrust. The spark ignited in your belly only grew as Tommy guided your hand between your legs, murmuring words of encouragement. "Let go for me. Cum on my cock, sweetheart."
Under his spell, you felt your body begin to tense and shake. All promises of silence forgotten, you keened immodestly. "Tommy, Tommy!"
The shameless way you moaned his name sent Tommy over the edge as well, seating himself deep within you to spill his seed. You rode the powerful crest together, a light sheen of sweat coating your bodies in the afterglow.
When his movements stuttered to a halt behind you, Tommy pulled you against his chest in a snug embrace. The muscles of his forearms flexed to hold you up as he relished the last moments within your velvety warmth.
You turned to face him, hair falling over your eyes in disheveled glory. "That was incredible," he pronounced, leaning in for a languid, open mouth kiss.
"So you heard?" you quipped, brushing your nose against his playfully.
"I think all of Small Heath heard ya, love. Not one for rules, are ya?," he chuckled as he broke away from you to retrieve his clothes.
Smoothing your dress back into place, you grew tense at his words. "Does that mean we have to stop?" you ventured anxiously.
Tommy's fingers hovered over the buttons of his trousers, shaking his head softly. "I could listen to that every night," he confided.
"Well, you know where to find me," you concluded, turning away as a blush crept over your cheeks.
"I do," he said, pulling you toward him. "By my side. You're my girl now... announced it yourself," he pointed out with a proud, yet smug look.
You couldn't argue as you'd done exactly that and you held no regrets.
-----------------
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