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#mission: find the missing emoji
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Mission: find the missing emoji
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lostgirlmuseum · 6 months
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Who the Hell is Daryl?
Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader
Words: 2k
Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
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He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. 
He was finally going to ask you out.
-----
To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.
The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.
The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him. 
“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”
He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle. 
You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him. 
“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena. 
His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.
I’m going to marry her someday.
He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.
Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck. 
After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings. 
You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.
He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.
“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.
“What’s up?”
“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”
“You got it, Doll.”
“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.
Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.
But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.
Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?
Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.
Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around 
You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?
Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful
You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘
Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?
Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set. 
So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?
Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.
Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.
You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.
“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.
“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.
“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”
With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.
Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.
He didn’t get much sleep that night.
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Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.
Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall. 
And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees. 
Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.
“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?” 
“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”
“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly. 
Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.
“Which friend?”
“Penny.”
So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.
He didn’t move from his bed.
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“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.
He couldn’t get himself to respond. 
The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.
“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”
“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.
A pause. 
“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light. 
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.
“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”
“Okay…”
He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him. 
“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”
He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.
“Where were you?” He asked.
You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this. 
“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.
Your eyes widened at his bite.
“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”
“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”
“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.
“I am!”
“Then who is Daryl?”
“What?”
“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.
“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.
“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.
“Call the number.” You simply said.
“What?” He repeated.
“Take my phone, and call the number.”
Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon. 
“Go ahead,” you urged.
He pressed the button. 
Ring.
Ring.
Ri—
“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”
“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.
“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”
“P—Penny?” He sputtered.
“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”
“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”
“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.
Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.
“I don’t understand.”
“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”
Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.
“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.
“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”
He nodded sheepishly.
“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.
“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”
“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.
He gulped.
“I was going to ask you to be with me.”
You tilted your head, not quite understanding.
“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”
“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"
"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.
"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.
He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.
“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.
Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.
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A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!
Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh
Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!
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pityslash · 7 months
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eye for an eye.
rain beat against the windows of your home, rattling glass and you always wondered what you’d do if a storm broke through. you really should have gone grocery shopping last week. what day was it?
the weekend. bless all might, it goes by so fast. the sun had started to set and you hadn’t thought about dinner. your friend's birthday is next month, maybe you should start picking out a gift?
your screen lights up and you realize your phone has timed out. there’s new messages from the group chat, mentions from multiple people you didn’t know.
[6:03PM pinky sent a message: ONGG guys have you seen bakugo’s post????????]
your interest was piqued, katsuki? that must mean he was finally back from the mission overseas. he was never one for social media, he goes offline months at a time and was always the last to know of articles or trends— being in the public eye was exhausting.
[red riot sent a message: haha mina you’re always the first one to see
pinky: DUHHHH HE
pinky: HE VANISHES OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH IM SHOCKED HE POSTED RN
pinky: i SCREENSHOTTED IT Y/N WAKE UP YOUR MAN POSTED AND UR SO CUTE IN IT]
you left the chat on seen, checking his profile and there you find a new photo on his page. the caption was nothing but a single emoji, and you feel butterflies in your stomach the more you scroll through the photos, all but the last slide being him and random pictures with izuku and shoto.
no, the last one was you. a muted video from the last date you two went on, almost a month ago. you were busy slurping your favorite ramen and bakugo’s face was hardly visible, but from his eyes everyone and their mother could tell he was grinning.
your face is red as it plays once more, that bastard.
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“babe, look.” your mouth is wide open when you look over, just to see yourself with that goddamn record button taunting your very existence. he lets out a laugh, brash and so recognizable throughout japan. “katsuki stop—!?”
the mighty hero throws an arm around your neck, heavy on your shoulders. so he pulls you closer, the smell of black pepper strong, and he gives you a big kiss on the lips. “nah, gotta show the world.”
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liked by notalienqueen and 4,735,082 others greatexplosionmurdergo ☹️
“i’m home.” his voice was loud, but so different from how he was on live television. he always acted differently around you. you turn around, throw your phone onto the small table and see katsuki standing at the door, soaking wet.
he struggles to take off his boots. “oh my god.” you said. “i just mopped the floor this morning.”
but you can’t dwell on it when he’s finally back. “welcome home,” so you reach for his shoulders, leaning up to kiss the scar across his cheek to his jaw, skin sunken but it healed just fine, something you were more than grateful for. “i missed you, beautiful.”
katsuki returns the favor, eyes heavy and muscles sore. he lets out a deep breath, “gon’ shower.”
“okay..” the hero was already peeling his uniform off, dragging his feet to the bedroom.
birthmarks you’ve memorized dotted his arms and shoulders, and you catch the largest scar uncomfortably on his spine— “.. wash up and then you can tell me everything, i’ll warm up leftovers! your favorite.”
katsuki acknowledges with a hum and you’re left alone in the living room, heeding for the sound of running water.
[maincharacteryn added to their story.]
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muddyorbsblr · 4 months
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onyx pt1
See my full list of works here!
Summary: You're stuck in the Avengers Compound because of an injury from your last mission, and you come across an adorable and affectionate little kitten.
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: language (no i'm not sorry, Rogers); talks of explosions and injuries sustained from explosion [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: one-sided crushing (but is it really…?)
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An eerie silence served as your only company in the Avengers Compound the last few days, some of your teammates off to finish the HYDRA mission that left you injured while the others took time off to visit their families over the holidays. With the promise to keep their comms on in case they would be needed until the New Year.
Now all that remained in the Compound with you were a few junior agents that drew the ends of the short stick, Val, and Loki.
Sadly your teammate, friend, and occasional drinking buddy Val was out blissfully spreading holiday cheer throughout New York with her girlfriend.
And Loki? Well, the God of Mischief wasn't exactly on chummy terms with you. Didn't even so much as give you a passing glance when you were at mission briefings.
Which was a damn shame because what you would give just to get lost in those stormy ocean eyes.
You made your way to the pantry in the common room to replenish your stash of snacks, towing along a little wagon to help you on the way back. Every step had you feeling every square inch of bruising on the left side of your body that you got from being unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius of an explosion at the HYDRA base you were trying to infiltrate with Shaun just a few days ago.
Your phone buzzed with a new message. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself, seeing Xu's name on your screen as soon as you pulled up next to the elaborate barista setup, putting a few Lindor truffles in a small bag for your wagon. "Hey FRIDAY?"
"Yes, Agent Y/L/N?" the AI answered immediately.
"Could you make me a white chocolate mocha with peppermint while I raid the latest Costco delivery for uhh…supplies. Yeah, I'll go with that."
"Right away, Agent Y/L/N." The sound of the barista setup whirring to life filled the kitchen area as you checked on Shaun's message.
Thor just mentioned that he'll ask his brother to take a look at your injuries. Maybe get him to kiss it all better. He finished his text with a smirking emoji, along with some hand gestures that painted a less than family friendly picture, making you roll your eyes at the screen.
You recorded a voice memo for him. "You know that he'd need to actually be willing to look at me so that he could see the damage from the blast, right? And last I checked I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm Medusa reincarnated and I'll turn his Asgardian ass to stone."
You went on to the ridiculously stocked pantry to rummage the delivery that came just a few hours ago, trying to find a bag of Jalapeño Cheetos somewhere in the mix, when you heard a tiny meow from somewhere behind you. You looked to the ground to find a black and white munchkin cat looking up at you with wide blue eyes.
"Hi there, baby…" you cooed, surprised the adorable little creature hadn't hissed or scratched at you yet. Cats normally didn't take to you, which was a shame because you often found yourself fighting the urge to pick one up or stroke its head whenever you crossed paths with one during your errand runs. "How'd you get in here?"
The tiny kitten caught you by surprise with what it did next, walking up to your feet and proceeding to rub its cheek against your ankle, a little purr emanating from its small fluffy body. You decided to risk the hissing and scratching and bent down to pick it up, your heart melting once he placed his paws on your cheek and proceeded to nuzzle your face with his nose.
"Aren't you a complete darling." He settled into your arm as you carried him out of the pantry, a little whine escaping him when you placed him down on the counter. He stood on his hind legs and made grabby hands towards you, blue eyes wide and pleading for you to pick him back up. "Just a second, sweet baby, I'm just getting you something to drink."
You took out a tiny sauce dish and poured some cream into it, pushing it toward the kitten that responded with a slow blink and a meow before licking away at the rich liquid.
"I'm sure your owner's gonna crucify me for giving you that but I can't help spoiling little fur babies especially when they're as adorable as you are." You took a sip of the coffee FRIDAY had finished making before shouting out a question for her. "Hey FRIDAY, you have any clue who this little bub belongs to?"
It took a second for her to answer. "Negative, Agent Y/L/N. There is currently no other agent on the premises looking for their pet. I also see no collar on them and from a preliminary scan they do not seem to have a microchip on them."
Those words stopped the kitten from drinking to look up toward the ceiling and hiss at the source of the voice. He only relaxed once you started stroking his fur again, going back to drinking and letting out a few purrs along the way. "No owner, huh? Does that mean I can invoke Finders Keepers then?"
"It appears so, Agent Y/L/N. What would be your new companion's name?"
The kitten looked up at you, as if expecting your answer. You wondered briefly if he could actually understand what it was that you and FRIDAY were talking about. "How about Onyx? I know I know it's absolute garbage for originality to name a black cat after a black gemstone but--"
His eyes widened before he climbed up your arm, only stopping once he'd reached your shoulder to nuzzle at your neck again. "It seems he likes the name, Agent Y/L/N."
"Then it's settled." You placed a soft kiss on top of his head. "Hello there, Onyx."
You brought your new kitten back to your apartment, setting him down on your bed while you tried to take off your sweatshirt as gently as you could manage.
"Ah, fuck it," you hissed as you felt the bruising around your ribs, letting out a pained sound when you opted to whip the garment over your head as fast as you could instead. Your reflection revealed that the bruising on the left side of your torso was quickly becoming a frightening deep purple.
Onyx meowed from your bed, again standing on his back legs and making grabby hands at you, eyes wide with evident pain.
"What's wrong, little baby?" He placed his paws gently on your side when you made your way to him, pressing his nose to the skin near where your bruising began. "Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about those, sweetie. They'll heal…eventually."
He kept on pressing his face to the area, your heart melting for the tiny kitten even more realizing that he was pressing kisses to your wounds.
"You really are such a precious little bub, aren't you?" You picked your new kitten up, placing him on the armchair in your reading nook before setting an alarm for dinner in a few hours and settling into your bed. "Get some sleep, sweet baby Onyx. I'll see you in a few hours."
Your eyes had only closed for a few seconds before you heard another tiny meow followed by a soft thud, immediately making you sit up on the bed looking for the kitten. He'd already made his way to your bedside, standing on his back legs and reaching up trying to climb up the sheets.
"Alrighty then," you mumbled, picking him up and placing him on the pillow beside yours. You rolled over to lay on your right side to remove any pressure to your injuries the best you could, hovering your finger near Onyx's nose once you'd settled in. He leaned up and pressed his nose to your finger, paws kneading on his pillow. "Boop," you giggled. "Sweet dreams, baby."
Just as you'd closed your eyes to try catching an hour or two of rest before you had to eat again and take those pain meds that Banner prescribed you, your phone began to blare Immigrant Song way too loudly by your nightstand. There were only two contacts you gave that ringtone to and one of them was currently out with her girlfriend.
"Talk to me, Thunder," you muttered, groaning when your stretch to reach for your phone made your bruising smart a bit. "You all good over there?"
"Absolutely grand, Lady Y/N," the blond god's voice boomed from the other end. "I was just wondering if you could check on my brother, he refuses to answer his phone yet again."
"That's gonna be a hard pass from me, buddy. I've already been cut and bruised, I'm not too keen to add stabbed to that list. He's probably just practicing spells. Or out on a date." You winced at that last part, an irrational part of you flaring up with unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Loki out with just about anyone. "Just--I don't know, check up on him yourself when you get back. You can take a stab better than me anyways."
Thor sighed loudly, the low rumbling making Onyx step back from his pillow and start hissing at the phone. You stroked the top of his head to calm him down. "Very well then, Lady Y/N. Rest well. We're scheduled to return after nightfall."
"I'll have pizza here waiting for you guys. Bring your own mead." You clicked off and tried to get some sleep, having FRIDAY place an order for pizzas and wings for when the team gets back. Your new kitten padded his way over to you, resting his head on your outstretched arm and letting out a soft purr.
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The sound of the Quinjet coming back roused you from your nap, along with the feel of little paws on your arm and Onyx nuzzling your cheek.
"Looks like everyone's home," you mumbled, pressing a few kisses to the kitten's head before making your way out of bed. "Come on, little baby. Time to meet the team."
With a whole lot of discomfort and groaning, you slipped your sweatshirt back on before presenting your hand to Onyx and patting your shoulder, prompting the kitten to climb up your arm and perch himself on the spot, nuzzling his face behind your ear.
The team had already arrived and filled the common area when you made your way there, some of them helping themselves to the pizza. Barnes and Wilson walked in with coolers, probably filled with chilled bottles of beer inside.
"Hey, there she is!" Shaun exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of Pepsi before making his way over to you and pulling you into an embrace. "How's the healing go--Whoa there." He took a step back as Onyx hissed in his direction. "Where'd you come from, little guy?"
You shh'd the kitten, pressing kisses to his little cheek to calm him down. "It's okay, baby, Shaun is a friend. One of the good guys." You turned back to your mission partner. "Shaun, this is Onyx."
"Always thought you were a dog person, Babes," Natasha spoke up before taking your arm and walking you to the food. "We leave for one day and you become a cat lady. Where'd you even find the time to go to a shelter and get baby blue eyes over here?"
"I didn't, actually," you answered the master assassin. "I just went to the pantry and poof there he was, meowing at my feet. Like the cat distribution system mailed him to me by magic or something." He nuzzled your cheek again before starting to knead at your face.
"And he doesn't belong to anyone? You're sure?" Shaun spoke up, backing up immediately when he tried to pet your new kitten and getting hissed at. "Easy, kitty. I'm a friend, I'm not gonna hurt you." The martial artist turned back to you. "He wasn't collared? Or chipped?"
"Nope. FRIDAY scanned him and everything."
"You wanna think about getting him chipped?"
Onyx hissed again at the question before swishing his tail around to curtain your hair around him, his little body shaking on your shoulder. As if he was silently pleading for you to not take him out to have him chipped.
"Don't you worry, baby. I won't get you chipped, I wouldn't hurt you like that," you cooed, letting out a little giggle as he placed his paws on your cheeks and nuzzled your nose, giving the tip tiny licks. You were so focused on your cat's affections that the bellowing of Thor looking for his brother was a distant muffled noise in the background.
Until he got to where you were standing and his booming voice was impossible to ignore. "What an adorable little beast you have, with you, Lady Y/N." Onyx buried himself in the crook of your neck, shaking at the sound of Thor's voice.
"It's alright, Onyx. It's just Thunder, he may be all big and menacing on the outside but he's just a fluff ball on the inside. Come on, go say hi."
The blond Asgardian approached you, examining your new pet carefully before a knowing grin graced his bearded face. "Hello, Brother."
A chill went down your spine at his words. "What the fuck d'you just say, Blondie?"
He motioned toward the kitten on your shoulder. "This is the explanation for his lack of replies on his phone. His absence from his quarters. Lady Y/N, the little beast hiding himself in your hair…is my brother. That is Loki."
In your stupor, the only words you could manage to say were, "Bitch what?!"
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A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to the members of SAS, beloved besties, and fellow whores! I've had this idea doing a slow lurky crawl in the microwave that is my writing noggin for the last few months, and I'm so excited that I finally get to share it with y'all! Part 2 is coming in a few days, and then it's a coin toss on whether I'll be trying to end the year with crossing off some things on my writing todo list, or crossing off some titles from my Tumblr TBR 😳👀
everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover
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roturo · 6 months
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⋆⭒˚。⋆₊ ⊹ CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI
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₊˚⊹♡ I WANNA SEE IT IN MOTION! IN 3D! gojo satotu, geto suguru, nanami kento, yuta okkotsu, megumi fushiguro˖⁺。˚⋆˙
tags: sexting, degradation, some of them have sub/dom dynamics, semi public arousal (?), sex videos (do not practice this irl), friends with benefits, established relationships, and more idk.
A/N: such a weird combination of jjk men lol
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gojo satoru
he was tired and annoyed once he got to the hotel after killing some stupid curses that easily a grade 2 sorcerer could do the work– but oh how they have been insisting on him to continue doing missions this days. he swears it’s utahime’s fault to finally take control over the tokyo students and make them move to kyoto.
but the true thing is that he was also so pent up after spending a long time without you beside him, he would call it a day after taking a shower and lay in bed– but a notification on his phone stopped him before doing so.
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i bought this new pair, it reminded me of your eyes, i miss you:(
and holy fuck- he swears if he wasn’t in just a pair of black briefs his cock would suffocate because of how fast he got hard– his hand immediately traveling trough and start working nicely to release the feeling. the pre-cum being more than enough to lubricate his cock and make it easier to jerk off– with one hand he opened up the camera and took a video before sending it to you.
sounds of whines and whimpers coming out of the video, making you immediately wet– a visible wet patch forming in your panties, he sounded so pretty– pretty enough to reply to him with another video of you coming –still with your panties on– by just rubbing yourself in the pillow.
“ah fuck it– someone else can take care of this mission”
geto suguru
he’s not a fan of it– he prefers having it in real motion in 3D– and he knows that because when you do send him some risky text or picture is just to piss him off– or maybe he likes to think you’re just a horny slut for him. 
but fuck it, why he couldn’t be the horny slut just for once this time? just one time –that’s what he promised himself– the idea of you going out with your friends today, the dress you were wearing being a lil bit too much short for his liking –not wanting to be the type of boyfriend he wouldn’t let you wear whatever you want– and he knows other men will be seeing you and get hard just at the thought of you, so that’s why he needed you like right now.
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wouldn’t u be so nice to come back home and help me relieve some stress? pls baby, i need you.
and this was surprising as fuck because geto was always so dominant, making you the needy one in the relationship, so this wasn’t an opportunity to waste.
send a video of yourself to show me how much you want me.
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fuck, i’m typing with just one hand rn, all i can think of is your pretty lips around my cock.
you were in the restroom of the bar you decided to go out with your friends, core pulsing, surely there was a wetness coming out of you, trying to release some tension, you tried to find some friction by rubbing your thighs together.
i’m going back home baby, do not cum.
nanami kento
“you fucking horny needy slut.” 
he exhaled, the words barely hearable– he had to re-adjust in the chair he was sitting on, pants suddenly too tight, tie not letting him breathe and time going lower this time.
“Nanami-san, are you feeling okay?”
he wouldn’t admit it outloud but he’s a fan of the risky texts you send him, edging him and make him eager to go back home as soon as possible– but right now, it would be nice if you didn’t send this in the middle of a fucking reunion he had with some clients. this time you wouldn’t be the only one playing silly games– he would take a quick photo of his growing erection in his pants, with no text, no emoji, no nothing. and the reunion was stressing him out, he was so pent up that he’s a millimeter from standing and leaving.
you knew that, you fucking knew he was in a reunion, but you still decided to desobey him and be a needy brat just to be fucked stupid. and ohh he wouldn’t fall for your silly games, he’s not angry, he’s actually pretty excited to get back home and just edge you till you fall apart in his arms begging for release.
he couldn’t wait.
yuta okkotsu
he’s BRIGHT RED. he was supposed to be focusing on whatever gojo-sensei was talking about, but the moment he opened up your message he expected everything else but this. 
and he thinks this was an accident, but no way– the way your body looks, how good your tits looked, damn. 
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why won’t you come and play with me instead yuta~ ;( 
shit, he felt his cock throb and start growing inside his pants– it was so painful to see you like that and can’t have the real thing in 3D to touch, he swears he could just cum if you showed up in front of him like that-
“Are you okay Yuta?”  Maki’s voice brought him back to reality, the sudden pain of his cock searching for release becoming a little bit too much to bear– he needed to do something right now.
He excused himself to the restroom, clear erection showing on his pants– praying to god no one saw it, a wet patch forming in it thanks to the amount of pre-cum he was leaking right now.
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lewd sounds came from the video; panting, whimpers, and moans saying your name– you never thought he would answer back, fuck- you even thought this was going to ruin your relationship with yuta, but holy fuck. 
there he was, fucking his fist in the bathroom at the image of you, sudden cum painting the mirror, loud whimpers came out of him, telling you how much he needed your little pussy wrapped around his cock–
I’m going to your dorm rn, cant wait anymore
megumi fushiguro
okay. you were supposed to be only friends but god damn. he swears it was the time– suddenly the texts turned more risky and now you’re sending him a video of rubbing yourself with your pillow with his shirt. 
and he was never this eager to cum, biting the lower part of his shirt so he could keep his moans back and not wake up Yuuji in the other group (plus he was way too needy to take his shirt off), phone on the other hand on a video call with you while he shows the lewd image of himself fucking at your own movements between a screen.
fuck gojo-sensei, why did he had to send him on a mission? he needs to see you like that but instead of a pillow being the thing you’re rubbing your pussy into, it needs to be his cock instead.
“Ah- ffuck…” small sounds calling out your name came from megumi’s mouth, almost audible thanks to the shirt preventing him from moaning out loud, “sshit, i just wanna be back to see you and touch you baby, i know you won’t regret this.” strips of cum coming out of him, the view making you dizzy and helping you reach your own high too.
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yzashaven · 8 months
Note
can i req needy dom scara..
Like like like like ... he goes away on a mission for wayyy too long.. and the moment he slips inside he starts mumbling and groaning about how much he needed this and how much he missed it..
there isn't an emoji for how blushy and giggly this man makes me holy shit explodes
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FEATURING ! scaramouche x fem!reader
CONTENTS ! needy scara ngh, bit of fluff at the start (i tried), some praise(?), reader gets called love, baby, and good girl, creampie, nipple play like once, desperate fucking
NOTE ! WAHHHH I LOVE THAT SO MUCH ANONNN SOOOO i really hope i did your ask proper justice despite being finished late 🙏 not rly proofread
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being away from your lover is definitely excruciating, especially if it's for a long time. your boyfriend, scaramouche, is making you feel that pain right as we speak. but you still do your best to understand that he can't just abandon his duties, even if it meant consequences like thisㅡbeing away from you for roughly 3 months now. archons, you just hope that he's doing alright and nothing bad happened to him. when you visited him at his base at the zapolyarny palace, a few subordinates were guarding around the area. it was easy for you to make your way inside since scaramouche made sure that everyone knew of you and your relationship. a few soldiers greeted you but you ignored them and kept walking pretty quickly, eager to just see him again already. once outside of his office, you turn the handle only to find out that it's locked. reaching into your purse and grabbing a spare key he gave you before unlocking the said door. once you opened it, there he is.
scaramouche was standing at the front of his desk laying down a bunch of paperwork about his recent investigations seeming busy like always. upon hearing the door suddenly open, he sighs deeply as his voice was laced with the usual aggressive and rudeness. "ever heard of knocking? what do you want?" he practically yelled which caught you off guard but stood your ground, you were used to this, closing the door behind and locking it once again. he rubs his temples before turning around with an angry look on his face, "i said what do youㅡah..." his gaze softens, "...my love." you rush to embrace him tightly, fingers combing through your hair as he plants a kiss on the top of your head, "i missed you." you whisper out, leaning into his chest to listen to his heartbeat. "i missed you too, love. but i'm back now so..."
ㅡ♡
"fuck, you feel so good..." scaramouche whimpers out as he slowly pushes himself inside you, one inch at a time. once it was all was situated deep inside you, he let out a groan followed by a few experimental gentle thrusts of his hips. "i-i missed this feeling so much-ah..." he says, slowly pulling back until only the tip is inside your wet hole only to gently push back all the way inside, "i needed this, i really did. i needed you so bad." his hands slip under your thighs to hold them apart, allowing him to reach deeper places that made you mewl out in utter pleasure, moaning his name. leaning down to plant kisses along your neck all the while he begins to move his hips at a slow pace that gradually accelerated as the feeling of desperation fills his body. movements sharp and fast yet his words were what seemed of submission, want and need, lost in the addictive feeling.
"s-so good, so fucking good." he says as a raspy whisper directly in your ear, sending shivers to your body. one of his hands make their way up your body to grope one of your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipple by flicking it gently and pinching at it. faster and harder, he goes. driving you ever so closely to the edge. "i want you to cum on my cock." scaramouche locks his eyes with yours, gaze soft yet stern in a way. "can you do that for me like the good girl you are?" now, his voice is a bit shaky as he feels himself growing closer as well, wanting to reach that release together as if in perfect harmony. you nod frantically, legs shaking as your orgasm feels so so sooo close. "c-cumming...scara!" you cry out as you writhe underneath him. and to add to that, his hand that was previously on your breast is suddenly now at your clit, rubbing it lovingly.
"cum for me, please. i'm so fucking close-nghh..." it seems as if he's the one begging you this time. "cum for me... cum with me. please, baby, i need to feel you orgasm around me." his tone becomes even more needy and desperate than it already was. along with his thrusts, speed increasing in attempts to reach deeper into you and get both of you to let go of that knot at the same time. his breathing uneven as whimpers and groans are all that left his agape lips. soon enough, you cum undone right then and there and even feel a certain warmness fill up your pussy, and reaching the womb it seems. after calming down, he looks at your panting figure below him before smirking mischievously.
"i don't wish to tire you, but please... i need more of you, i missed you too much."
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sycamorelibrary754 · 7 months
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Come Home To Me
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Summary: After returning home to the Avengers Compound from separate solo missions, Wanda learns the meaning behind one of your tattoos is more than what it seems.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!Reader.
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: None
A/N: Behold, my first attempt at writing a fic. I'm pleased with the end result, so I'm being brave & posting it. Shoutout to @yelenasdiary for encouraging me to give it a go. 💜
The morning light shone through the window of Wanda’s bedroom as both of you cuddled up under the covers. You silently thanked Tony for installing black-out curtains in the compound bedrooms as Wanda’s red magic trailed ever so slowly around the fabric, bringing much-needed darkness to the room.
You had both returned from solo no-contact missions the night before. Usually, you did your best to keep in touch when both of you were on separate missions, even if it was only an emoji to let the other know that you were there. Without that contact, you both felt like ships lost at sea with nothing to anchor you. 
Wanda was the first to arrive home. After her debriefing with Fury, she was determined to stay awake for your impending arrival. 
Walking past Wanda on the way to her room, Natasha gave Wanda a knowing smirk. “No training tomorrow.” Not even stopping to engage in conversation. 
Wanda turned as the Black Widow kept walking past her toward the compound kitchen, “Why?” 
“You know why,” Nat called out in response without even turning around. 
Upon arriving in her room, Wanda changed into her favorite pajamas and turned on her favorite episode of the Dick Van Dyke show. One she had seen more times than she could count, but it was always her comfort show. Even more so when you were away.
An hour later, your Quinjet softly touched down on compound grounds. You tiredly made your way to your debriefing, the Med Bay for a few minor stitches in your leg, and your room for a quick shower. By the time you finally make it to Wanda’s room, the only sound you hear as you slowly push open the door is the laugh track of your girlfriend’s favorite show. The glow from the television perfectly illuminating her sleeping form under the covers. You carefully made your way to your side of the bed and curled up next to Wanda. Her eyes slowly opened to see your exhausted face smiling back at her.  
“Hi, sweetheart,” you said.
“You’re finally home” Wanda whispered.
“So are you.” You replied as you gently caressing your hand across her cheek. 
It had been so long without her touch that you almost forgotten what it felt like to not sleep alone. You came together for a gentle kiss that lingered on for what seemed like forever. Not in desperation, but in contentment, as you were finally whole again. 
“Go back to sleep, love. It's so late.” You say, as you turn off her television and readjust the covers over both of you. 
“We have the day off tomorrow...” Wanda mumbled. Her Sokovian accent slipping ever so softly into her speech. Her weariness finally catching up with her now that you were home and safe in her arms. You fall asleep with hands and hearts intertwined. 
You lay in bed as Wanda traces the outlines of the tattoos that cover your right arm. She had always found them fascinating. 
“What does the owl mean?” Her voice broke through the thickened silence.
“What?” You glance over, as her green eyes connect with yours.
“The owl tattoo on your forearm.” Wanda reiterated.
“Oh. Well, the owl is the companion to Athena, the goddess of wisdom. It was seen as a symbol of protection in Ancient Greece. If an owl flew over Greek soldiers before a battle, they took it as a sign of victory.”
Wanda nods as you look down at the tattoo on your arm, brushing your fingers lightly over the ink. 
“There is another reason….” You say so softly that Wanda almost misses it. “When I’m on a mission without you, it reminds me that I will always find my way back to you. I’ll be victorious and I’ll come home to you, no matter where I am.”
Wanda takes your face in her hands. Her magic trails around your head and gently calms the inner recesses of your mind. Her eyes meet yours in gentle reassurance. She can hear your thoughts questioning whether that was too much to share. 
“I love you with all my heart. Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“I love you too,” you reply.
A couple weeks later, Wanda suits up for a mission with Nat and Bucky. They were to infiltrate an underground Hydra facility that had recently started experimenting again with what Tony and Bruce believed to be new technology. Nothing Wanda hadn’t seen before, but still unsettling. Memories forever fresh of her time in Hydra facilities with Pietro. The only sound able to permeate her memories is the sound of Nat announcing that you’re roughly an hour out from your target and Bucky regaling them both with another story of his exploits in 1940s Brooklyn with Steve. 
Missing you, Wanda absentmindedly reaches into the front pocket of her suit and feels the creases a folded-up note against her fingertips. Removing it slowly, she recognizes your chicken scratch handwriting that you absolutely despise, but that she finds adorable. 
Come home to me, Wanda. 
Forever my love,
y/n
Wanda opens the small black box accompanying the note to reveal an ornate silver owl ring. Edgy, yet elegant. With tears gathering her eyes, she quietly slips the ring onto her right ring finger. It slides into place smoothly, as if it was always meant for her. A spot it never left from that moment on. No matter the mission, no matter the circumstance. You had your owl and she had hers.
It may look like a simple piece of jewelry to the rest of the team. Nat often catches Wanda staring at the ring during briefings, especially if you aren't there. And Yelena still doesn't understand why she couldn't borrow it for a date night with Kate. To your little witch, it is more than a ring. It’s a comforting reminder of the love you both share. An unspoken promise to always find your way back home to one another. 
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I’m back with more request for dad!tan. Well… pre-dad!tan. How would he react to us telling him we were pregnant? Even more drama, tan gets a call in the middle of the events of the bullet train and it’s us saying that we wanted to wait until he got home but we can’t keep the secret - we’re pregnant.
Also I know I request dad!Tan a lot, could I be 🍼anon? I feel like it’s appropriate
hii!! love love it!! been thinking of you as daddy anon, so the emoji is better😭😭😭 hope you like it💌 love dad tan sm!!!
TELLING TAN YOU’RE PREGNANT.
got an idea but it'll mess with the plot of the movie, but that's a good thing as that means he won't die so yay
— maybe you text him beforehand to see what he's up to and he tells you he's about to get on the train and if all goes well he should be home midday the next day. he's been away on work for the last several days, and you found out you were pregnant yesterday. usually, you tell tan everything, and since he's away, you can't. maybe it was eating you up, and since this was such big news, you NEEDED to tell him
— you start it small. trying to find out more about how long he'll be, and what time he lands. you're trying to scope out how much longer you have to contain the news for. and bc of your questioning, he gets suspicious and he'd send back "you alright? missing me too much or something?" and then you reply "yeah, miss you loads! need to tell you something but I'll wait" then he says "tell me now love. what is it?" and then you say "rather tell you in person. be safe and I'll see you when you're back" but he's not having it, so he calls you
— they'd be in their seats on the train now, so tan would leave lem with the son while he calls you
— maybe you debate declining the call, but you know tan, and you know he would just keep calling and calling til you answer. so you answer and bc you're actually speaking to him you get all emotional and teary?? you bounce around with the way you say it, seeing how this wasn't how you envisioned and he's miles and miles away. so after a little bit of his gentle pushing and his reassurance you tell him you're pregnant. he'd go quiet and you'd be saying his name, and apologise for telling him like this, and sorry for messing up his mission
— he'd tell you how that's not true and he loves you. he's just a little speechless. all he wants now is to see you and hug you, and the distance is messing with his head (he's not able to do what he wants to do, and you're at home on your own and he's in japan) says how he'll be home soon, and how happy he is about the news, but says he'll call you again later bc now theres things he needs to do
— he'd go up to lemon and tell him how they need to cut the mission short. they'd threaten and scare the son into staying on the train "you don't get off til kyoto. hear me? or we'll (idk, imagine something threatening)”
— lemon is obvs VERY happy with the news and understands why tan needs to get back
— it's late when he gets home (but it's way way earlier than planned so it's a cute surprise) he has like 5 bouquets of flowers in his arms and places them on the nightstand next to you and kneels beside the bed and gently nudges you awake, calling your name sweetly, telling you he's home
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Text
Integration
Bayverse Donatello x Reader imagine
Info + Warnings: Donatello finds himself all over your life. No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader, but they use Spotify. Friends-to-lovers type beat. Set a few years after OOTS.
Commentary: While it's not strictly necessary reading, this is the sequel to Glow in the Dark, and is set to this playlist.
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Donatello has always prided himself on his observational skills.
He notices things other people don't. He recognizes patterns, he collects data, he observes.
It's why Leo turns to him first for mission analysis.
It's why April sends him documents to proof-read.
It's how he fixes codes that refuse to work and reverse engineers biological weapons and is able to turn scraps into functioning gear.
He sees.
Especially when he's already interested in what he's looking at.
Which is why, in the middle of the night, he glances at your activity in his Spotify sidebar.
It's just in his nature.
He does it every now and again- well, okay, every time he opens Spotify- and it's become a bit of a game for him, to try and hone in on your music taste and then casually send you very casually considered recommendations.
He's the most casual turtle alive, everyone knows that.
Sometimes, he spots you playing a song he's given you, and he gets a dorky little smile on his face as he alt-tabs his way back to work.
This time, it's a song he'd given you months back- StarWaves, off of the Oblivion soundtrack, by M83- and just as his lips quirk up and his fingers find his keyboard, he notices something else.
Just below the song, he spots the playlist title.
It's a purple heart emoji.
He hesitates, hand over keys, eyes lingering on his screen.
His timing is fantastic, because the song changes. Little Dark Age by MGMT, which he'd sent you when he last updated the surveillance system- still on purple heart emoji.
This is why science is such a comfort to him- it ties all of those constant observations to something concrete, makes them matter. Observation alone means nothing; study gives him structure.
This means nothing.
But further study- tabbing back and forth between his latest project and Spotify every three-or-so minutes, noting song after song that he remembers giving you- suggests that the purple heart emoji means him.
It makes his heart do something dizzy in his chest, to think that you've tucked his suggestions somewhere safe. That you've taken them with open hands and set them in a display case.
That you make use of them.
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It's not even a week later when you come into the lair with a smile and your computer bag over your shoulders and bags of take out in your hands. You set your phone and keys on his desk, both tangled in your headphones, and head off to dole out food, and he can hear a Phantogram song heavy in the earbuds.
Another one of his, he notes happily.
You come back a few minutes later, a tired and amused expression on your face as you offer him his food.
"I take it Mikey found you," Donnie says in wry, fond amusement, and he's rewarded by a little snort of laughter.
"He did," You respond, setting your own food on the desk- next to your things- and shimmying your bag off your shoulder. "I swear, it's like you all let that guy starve when I'm not here."
"He does a lot of things when you're not here. Starve is not one of them."
He almost misses your response- "Tell that to him, he nearly tackled me for his lo mein!"- because something green catches the light of his computer and, in turn, catches his eye.
It's a little piece of circuit board.
One you'd helped him pull out of a haul of scrap tech, and once he'd deemed that piece useless you'd made a joke about it making a cute keychain.
He'd taken an old soldering iron and melted a hole in the corner, threading a keyring through it, and passed it to you before you left.
It was mostly a joke. You'd been joking. He'd just tapped in and taken the bit to the next level.
And the joke was somehow still in one piece, hanging off your computer bag.
It makes his heart do something fluttery in his chest, to think that you carried that silly (warm, safe, delightful) memory around with you.
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It's nearly two weeks after that when he climbs in your window in the early part of the night, a little earlier than he should probably be out, with a bag of snacks hanging from his elbow.
You're in front of your TV, flicking through movie options, and he intentionally scuffs his shoe in the doorway to make sure you know he's there.
He somehow still isn't prepared for the way you tilt your head back to smile at him in greeting.
"I know it's kinda warm out, but I made hot cocoa," You say sweetly. "I got marshmallows on sale, so..."
"I brought those chips you like," He responds, slipping the bag to his palm and holding it up as though you can see through it.
"You're the best!" You chirp, slipping off the couch and leading him to the kitchen.
You already have two mugs set out, filled to the brim with marshmallows- he assumes there's cocoa beneath them somewhere, but has little proof from just looking at them.
One mug is your favorite, the one you've been using as long as he's known you.
The other is new.
It's dark purple and large, with an oversized handle. About the same size as the one he probably left on his desk when he left the lair. Large enough to comfortably fit his hand, he suspects.
It nearly stops him in his tracks.
"What is it?" You ask.
"Is this new?" He asks in place of an answer, nodding at the drinks.
"The mug?" You're using that carefully nonchalant voice you use whenever you do something nice. The one that usually obscures a lot of time and effort. "Yeah, found it at that antiques place I told you about. The one with the iron giraffe by the door?"
He remembers.
"It's- pretty," He says haltingly, trying to keep himself in a logical, reasonable headspace.
It isn't a big deal. It's a mug.
(It feels big. Feels huge. Feels like he's going to suddenly collapse under his own emotional weight and leave a black hole in your kitchen where he had been.)
(It's you adapting to his- and his brothers', he reminds himself sharply, trying to stay in the realm of reasonable and unimpacted- quirks and needs. It's you accommodating him in your own home. It's his color. He thinks his unwieldy feelings for you grow a size right here, standing in your kitchen.)
"I thought so," You agree lightly, your back to him as you grab bowls. "Thought you might like it. Thought maybe it would be nice to have one here. For you."
Reasonable is rapidly becoming less and less realistic as his heart skips a beat. There's weight in your words, despite your best efforts- he's more sure than ever than you'd set out to find this mug, that this had been a mission for you.
You never act this casually about something you're actually casual about.
"Vank- er, very nice," He stumbles over his words, slowing down to enunciate. "Thank you."
You shrug, turning to him with the bowls, eyes trained on them. "Since I like having you here, might as well, like, make it easier for you, huh?"
He's glad, in a way, that he's green. When he blushes, it's a lot more subtle on him than it is on somebody like Casey.
(He hopes you're not feeling particularly observant.)
"Being here is easy," He says quickly, a confession he hadn't really meant to make.
It's simultaneously huge and just-the-surface.
Being around you is easy.
You look up now, eyes meeting his with a searching look, and you smile. "I'm glad," You say, that weight still in your voice, some extra, unknown thing just beyond his ability to figure out. Then it shifts, and you're more smirking than smiling, and the air shifts from uncertain warmth to a familiar playfulness. "That means you can easily pick a movie. I'm sick of looking."
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He stays long after the credits roll, listening as you look up tidbits about the movie and the cast and how the effects were done. He's on your couch, one leg crossed beneath the other as he angles his body to you and rests an arm over the back (staying very carefully on his side, thank you).
He chimes in as you read out trivia ("I'm pretty sure that should be lucis, but my Latin's a little rusty." "You're right, according to this. Wonder if that was an error or a stylistic choice?") and laughs as you stop mid-sentence to re-read twice because something is so littered with typos that you can't immediately tell what it's saying.
Neither of you look at the clock.
You finish the chips he brought, and you make popcorn, and the two of you finish that, too.
The movie trivia gives way to a story about your friend's dog, and the laughter from that flows into him telling a similar story about Mikey as a child- because apparently, chewing on skateboards is a more common behavior than he'd thought- which shifts into you showing him the meme Mikey had sent you earlier in the day.
Mikey'd sent it to him, too, but he didn't mention it. He let himself lean into your bubble to half-look at your phone, just to be near you.
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When he finally gets home- late, very late, the sun's already planning its ascent- he's grateful that everyone seems to be asleep.
Until he hears a throat clear behind him and he winces.
"Hi, Donnie," Leo says, knowing and smug and making Donnie stifle a groan.
Leo asks how you are.
"Good," He says simply, turning and holding his oldest brother's gaze. "We had lots to catch up on."
"Clearly," Leo says, a clear undertone of teasing.
Donnie resists the urge to roll his eyes.
"I'm glad you had a good time," Leo says, teasing fading from his voice, leaving an earnest tone in its place as he bumps a fist into Donnie's shoulder. "Just let me know next time movie night turns four movies long, yeah? Keeping your dinner safe from Mikey isn't my idea of a good time."
Don can feel the blood in his cheeks again. He hadn't meant to stay so long- disrupting your sleep schedule isn't his idea of a good time- but it just... was easy. "Yeah. Will do."
Leo nods and smiles and takes his mug- strong green tea, if Don's nose is to be believed- towards his room.
Donatello exhales softly. He'd expected worse-
"Oh, Donnie," Leo calls playfully, "Mike's come up with several new songs including "k-i-s-s-i-n-g", so I'd brace myself for a musical breakfast."
This time, Donnie does groan, not bothering to respond as Leo chuckles and leaves.
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He eats the dinner Leo'd kept guarded- pasta with meatballs, cold, because Donnie thinks that if the microwave wakes either of his other brothers and he has to deal with them before he sleeps he's going to ask you if he can just live on your couch- before shuffling into his lab and flopping into the chair at his workbench.
He leans back into the chair, stretching his neck out with a soft groan before his eyes land on the little glass sun hanging above him.
He watches it for a moment, a soft smile creeping onto his face.
Then he stretches out- too lazy, too tired to get up- and flicks the lights off.
The sun glows, and it looks almost as bright as his heart feels, and he feels himself sink fully into the chair and memories of you and the unwieldy, bright feelings you spark in his chest.
After a few minutes in comfortable, sweet silence, he shifts forwards and boots his computer up.
Just for some music.
Work will have to wait until he gets some sleep. You'd be livid if he jumps in now.
He pulls up Spotify and his eyes go to the sidebar out of muscle memory more than conscious effort.
Your username is the first on the list, right above a purple heart.
He lets out a little laugh, a you-shaped feeling turning bubbly and warm behind his ribs.
Deciding you have the right idea, he pulls up Random Access Memories and hits play on his favorite track, letting the bass softly fill the room and enjoying the feeling of it beneath his fingers as he quickly types out the few ideas he'd had while at your place.
He's asleep before the song ends, face buried in his forearms on the desk.
75 notes · View notes
candycandy00 · 7 months
Text
Little Miss Nobody Part 3 - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic
You’re a weak, lowly sorcerer who barely qualifies as an assistant, but you get the opportunity to work on a mission that includes THE Gojo Satoru. Unbeknownst to you, he finds you incredibly attractive despite privately looking down on you as a nobody. On the last night of the mission, he invites you to his hotel room. 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Any feedback or comments whatsoever is greatly appreciated! Thank you to @doumadono for the name Mystigram!
Smut. 18+. Gojo x short/thick/curvy fem Reader. Rough sex, oral sex (69), implied bondage/use of toys, mention of Gojo being bisexual. Just pretend the Shibuya Incident never happened!
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You allowed yourself to grieve for one week. You took time off from work and spent those days crying, yelling at no one about how much of an asshole Gojo was, and eating ice cream from the carton to numb your pain. Once the week was over, you cleaned up, went back to work, and returned to your normal daily life. 
It still hurt to think about him, and despite your best efforts not to, you did still have the occasional intrusive thought. Sometimes you wondered if he regretted anything he said to you, or if he simply regretted ever meeting you. Sometimes you wondered what kind of mission he might be on and who was in his hotel room with him. Sometimes you dreamed about him, dreamed of his hands gripping your hips, his cock rough and powerful between your thighs. 
In a weak moment you decided to check his page on Mystigram. A few particularly tech savvy sorcerers had made a social media site just for Jujutsu sorcerers. It began as a way for sorcerers to stay connected to their coworkers and share information, but it had grown to be something used for networking, planning social outings, and getting to know sorcerers from different branches.  
You’d looked at Gojo’s page before of course, back before you met him, when you were just a curious fan. He mostly shared memes about Jujutsu society, pictures from the places he’d traveled for work, and photos of the various treats and desserts he discovered at different restaurants and shops. There were occasional selfies, almost always with his sunglasses rather than his blindfold, and a few photos of him with friends. He often had his arms casually thrown around Ieiri Shoko and Nanami Kento, with both of them generally looking annoyed. 
You scrolled through his page, feeling desperate and pathetic as you searched for any sign that he felt anything at all about what happened between you. Even him sharing a vague, sort of sad quote or meme would have satisfied you. There was a four day period immediately following your last encounter where he didn’t post anything at all, but he could have simply been busy with work. 
One of his most recent posts was a selfie of him pulling down his shades and looking at the camera with gorgeous, bedroom eyes. It was the first one you’d seen with his eyes clearly visible, and it made you ache in more ways than one. The caption read, “The real reason I keep my eyes covered is to keep the whole world from instantly falling in love with me!” What a Gojo thing to say. 
His students had responded with laughing emojis (and in a couple of cases, barfing emojis). Ieiri Shoko commented with only a gif of a woman dramatically rolling her eyes. Nanami Kento commented with one word: “Disgusting.” You found the interactions charming, but also felt sad when you realized you’d never be a part of that group, a part of Gojo’s life. You’d never be able to casually talk and joke with him like the others did. 
Just once, during a night when you couldn’t sleep, you actually wondered if you should have just let him keep using you for sex. You thought about the “weekend of debauchery” he’d mentioned and imagined what it would have been like. Did he really want to tie you up in his basement? And why did the thought of that make you wet? 
You finally fell asleep right after thinking these things, and had a nightmare in which he kept telling you how unworthy you were to be his girlfriend, as he walked off with a glamorous, powerful woman on his arm. 
When you awoke, you had renewed resolve that you made the right decision to walk away from him.
Nearly a month after your second time sleeping with him, you crossed paths with him on the street. He was wearing his blindfold, but he pulled it down as he stopped in front of you and asked how you were doing. 
You wished he hadn’t. You didn’t want to see his eyes. You gave a vague, cordial reply and continued walking down the street, taking deep and steady breaths to keep yourself from bursting into tears until you could get far enough down the street to dart into a cafe. You bought a coffee just for an excuse to be there, but left it untouched on the counter and instead rushed into the restroom to cry in private. 
Seeing him hurt. Hearing his voice hurt. The fact that he didn’t seem bothered at all, that he had absolutely no hesitation in speaking to you, as if you were just friendly acquaintances, hurt. Deeply. But you pulled yourself together, dried your eyes, and walked out of the cafe with your head up. 
It would take time to fully heal, as all wounds to the heart did. 
Three weeks later, you met a grade one sorcerer on a mission who asked you to have dinner with him sometime. His name was Haruto, and he was kind to you. Handsome in a completely different way than Gojo, he was respected and liked among the assistants for his down to earth attitude. You accepted the dinner invite, and soon after, the two of you began dating. 
You liked him, but so far you hadn’t fallen in love with him. You kept waiting to feel that burning passion you felt for Gojo, that ache to be in his arms, but it hadn’t happened yet. Still, a slow burn romance might be a better fit for you, and you enjoyed Haruto’s company enough to date him a while longer and decide how you felt. It was clear that he wanted to be intimate with you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do that yet, not so soon after your experience with Gojo. But Haruto was patient, never pressuring you. 
As time passed by and the season changed from autumn to winter, you thought less and less about Gojo.
****************
Gojo wasn’t dealing with the fallout from his last hookup with Little Miss Nobody very well. He’d went through several different reactions, from anger at her for saying the things she said to guilt for saying the things he said to her. At first he tried to convince himself that he’d done nothing wrong. He’d been honest with her about the sort of relationship they could have. His only mistake was in telling her that after fucking her again. 
Just like before, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Despite being busier than ever with missions and his teaching job, his mind kept wandering to her. He worried she would do something reckless on a mission. She wasn’t a fighter, but she clearly wouldn’t hesitate to endanger herself to save someone. He admired the courage that took, but he found himself wishing she would just be a coward from now on. She didn’t have the strength to back up that desire to protect. 
Sometimes he laid awake at night, jacking off while remembering their encounters. It was almost too easy to get off, picturing her with her hands tied behind her back, her face pressed into the pillows. Every time he wore his blindfold, he remembered how it had looked around her wrists. 
Then, he saw her on the street one day. He spotted her from across the road, but she hadn’t noticed him yet. She looked like every wet dream he’d ever had, jeans tight over her perfect ass, a form-fitting sweater with a cutout right over her ample cleavage. She looked soft and squeezable. Pliable. His first thought was that he wanted to pull her into his arms and just hold her. His second was that he wanted to hear her voice. 
He crossed the road and approached her, trying to act as casual as possible. When she looked at him, there was an instant where she looked stunned, but she quickly covered that up with a pleasant smile. He pulled his blindfold down and said, “Hey, how’ve you been?”
It was petty of him, he knew, but he knew she liked his eyes. He wanted her to see them again, perhaps to make her want him again. There were plenty of hotels in the area and-
“I’ve been good,” she said, her face frozen in that same mild expression. “Thank you for asking.”  
And then she was gone, walking away quickly and then going into a cafe down the street. He thought briefly of following her, trying to talk to her again, but abandoned the idea. She clearly didn’t want to talk to him, and he wouldn’t press her into a situation that upset her. 
He’d left feeling frustrated, in several different ways. Finally, he grew desperate enough to talk to his friend about what was going on. But when he’d gone to Shoko for advice, she had been blunt with him as usual. 
“Are you a fucking moron?”
He gaped at her. “Huh?!”
Shoko took a drag of her cigarette and regarded him with a withering stare. “You find a girl who’s sweet, brave, laughs at your shitty jokes, who fucking bakes, and likes it rough? And you manage to screw it up? You’re hopeless.”
Gojo was sitting on a bench in the outdoor area of the high school, near some vending machines. He leaned back, slapping his forehead as Shoko stood beside him. “I don’t know where I screwed up,” he said, “I just told her the truth.”
“You told her she wasn’t good enough for you immediately after fucking her. Do you think anyone wants to hear that?”
He glanced up at his friend. “I didn’t say that to her.”
Shoko met his eyes. “Did you deny it?”
He sat there silently for a moment, thinking. “I didn’t know how to respond to that,” he finally said. “I don’t think she’s not good enough for me. If anything, she’s way too good.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“It’s not about her as a person, or even me as a person. Maybe I’m being a narcissistic asshole. But I feel like I should be with someone closer to my level in terms of status, you know?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t know.”
Gojo sighed. “I just… can’t imagine myself with an assistant who can barely use cursed energy. She’s weak. She’s not from a sorcerer family…”
“Geto wasn’t from a sorcerer family,” Shoko pointed out. “That didn’t seem to bother you.”
Gojo looked at her suddenly. Shoko rarely mentioned their departed friend. “Suguru was strong. At one point as strong as me,” he replied. 
“So?” Shoko asked. “A lot of people would call me weak. I sure as hell can’t fight.”
He stared at her, realizing she was making excellent points. Why did it matter what someone’s status was? He never cared about status when it came to picking friends, so why care now? Maybe he had to face the fact that he’d gotten too full of himself over the years. He’d started looking down on those who were weak within Jujutsu society, even if he felt no ill will toward them. 
He looked at Shoko, who was a precious friend, and couldn’t imagine looking down on her, even though she was exponentially weaker than him. Then he remembered Little Miss Nobody’s crying face, and he realized how monumentally stupid he’d been. 
“I seriously fucked up, didn’t I?”
Shoko exhaled, smoke drifting around her face. “Sure did.”
He leaned forward on the bench, resting his hands on his thighs. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”
“For starters, you better be damn sure of what you want,” she told him. “I’m serious, Gojo. Don’t toy with her again. Don’t contact her, don’t stir up her feelings, and for God’s sake don’t fuck her unless you’re sure you want to start something serious with her.”
Gojo nodded. “I’m sure.” He’d never felt more certain of anything. He saw her face everywhere he looked. He heard her voice in his dreams. He hadn’t even been able to fuck anyone else since her. He’d tried once and couldn’t finish, and boy was that embarrassing. 
“Then call her,” Shoko said. “Apologize, tell her you were wrong.”
“I don’t have her number,” Gojo said, remembering with a small degree of shame how she’d shyly offered it to him after their first time together and how he’d rejected it. 
“We can probably find it,” Shoko told him, digging into the pocket of her white coat for her cell phone. “I have a couple of friends who work at her branch.”
Gojo perked up, listening as Shoko called someone and made a bit of small talk before asking if they knew Little Miss Nobody. Shoko gave him a thumbs up, and asked the person to text the number over. Then he heard Shoko say, “Oh, she is? Right now?”
After the call ended, Shoko said, “They’re sending the number over but they said she’s in Tokyo right now. She’s supposedly meeting some friends for drinks at that bar for sorcerers in Ikebukuro.”
Gojo stood up. This was the perfect opportunity. He could talk to her in person, apologize properly and see if this could be fixed. He knew exactly where the bar was, having gone there to hang out with Shoko and Utahime just one week prior. He thanked Shoko for her help and hurried over to the bar. 
It wasn’t very crowded yet when Gojo arrived. It was late afternoon, and customers wouldn’t start pouring in until at least seven. He scanned the room for her when he first walked in, and quickly spotted her sitting amongst several other sorcerers in a corner booth. She was smiling, and he was glad to see her happy. 
He took a seat at the bar and ordered a soda, then tried to keep from attracting any attention. It didn’t happen all the time, but occasionally people recognized him and acted like they’d seen a celebrity. He supposed he was the closest thing Jujutsu society had to a celebrity, and while he usually found it flattering to be approached in that way, today he hoped no one noticed him. He planned to wait for her to go to the rest room or even to the bar. He didn’t want to approach her when she was surrounded by people. 
So he sat, and waited, and watched. After several minutes, he noticed that the man sitting to her right was a little too handsy with her. The man kept touching her arm and subtly leaning closer to her. Gojo didn’t like that, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was a little naive about things like that, so maybe she didn’t even notice. 
But the more he watched and listened, the more a knot tied itself together in his stomach. She was also leaning toward the man, giggling at something he said, playfully slapping his arm. Then, the man threw his arm around her, and she smiled, doing nothing to push it away. 
The realization hit Gojo like a punch to the face. She was with this man, romantically. Gojo was too late. He’d spent too much time being an egotistical jackass, and now she’d moved on. He couldn’t blame her. She had the right to pursue happiness with someone else. But where did that leave him? He sighed and lowered his head. For the first time in his life he considered trying to get drunk. 
He heard chattering from her table and glanced over. Little Miss Nobody, as well as the rest of the women in the group, were leaving together. Something about going to see a movie together. Gojo moved to the other side of the bar before they got near, making sure not to be seen. He watched her walk out, and it felt like she was stomping on his heart with each step she took. 
The thought occurred to him that he could potentially take her away from the man. If Gojo talked to her, maybe she’d decide she liked him more. But should he do that? She seemed happy. What right did he have to burst back into her life and possibly screw it up?
While he sat there, deep in thought, he almost didn’t notice the man she’d been with coming to sit at the bar, just a few seats down. But he did notice, and he couldn’t help paying attention to him. 
The man’s friend, the only other man who’d been at the table, sat down next to him. 
“Any luck yet?” the friend asked. 
The man shook his head and took a drink from his glass. “Nope. She’s still holding out. I think she’s hung up on some ex boyfriend or something, but she won’t say it.”
Gojo’s ears felt like they were on fire. His full attention was now on this conversation, but he sipped his Coke and pretended not to be listening. 
The friend laughed. “Sucks to be you, dude. You score a hot girlfriend and can’t even fuck her.”
The man laughed too. “I’ll wear her down. She’ll be sucking my dick soon enough.”
Gojo’s hand gripped the glass so hard, he had to force himself to calm down to avoid shattering it. 
Then the friend said something else, and Gojo felt his skin prickling with rage. 
“Don’t forget to record it when you finally get her naked. You promised you’d show off the goods.”
The man nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve got cameras hid around my bedroom already. She doesn’t have a clue.”
“Good,” the friend replied, “cause I’ve been dying to see those tits for months.”
They both laughed, and Gojo stood up from his seat. He walked the few steps over to the two men and stood looming over them. He was wearing sunglasses instead of his blindfold, but he was still recognizable to most people who noticed him. The man she’d been with gaped up at him. “Gojo?”
Gojo grinned widely. “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys,” he said in a friendly tone. “Can you share those recordings with me when you make them?”
The men glanced at each other, looking like students who’d been caught smoking by a teacher who then asked for a cigarette. 
“You… want me to send you recordings? Of my girlfriend?”
Gojo’s grin was probably becoming more frightening as the moments passed. “Well you’re sharing them with your buddy, right? What’s one more?”
The man shrugged, still looking a little uneasy. “Sure, why not? Give me your number.”
Gojo kept staring at him. “So she has no idea you plan to do this?”
The man must have mistaken Gojo’s slightly unhinged expression for perversion. He laughed and said, “She’s clueless. Totally naive. Wait till you see her! Huge tits, fat ass, cute face. She’d be a perfect porn star.”
The friend chuckled and added, “Hell, I guess she will be after this. We could make a fortune selling the videos!”
That was enough. That was all Gojo could bear to listen to. He’d let the guy dig a big enough hole for himself. “Call her,” he said in a low voice, and both men looked at him with confusion. 
“What?”
Gojo’s smile was gone. He pulled off his shades and glared at the man. “Call her. Tell her you need to see her in private. It’s urgent.”
The man didn’t move, he just stared up at Gojo as if he’d sprouted another head. 
Gojo leaned down. “I think she has the right to know about this, don’t you?”
The man looked positively horrified. A bead of sweat ran down his face. “You want me to tell her? I can’t do that! She’ll-“
Gojo looked at the man the way he would look at a curse that had just attacked him, and the man’s words died in his throat. Gojo put one hand on the man’s shoulder. “I said call her. Right fucking now.”
The man’s fingers were trembling as he pulled his phone from his pocket. As he began dialing, Gojo pointed at the friend. “And you, if you ever so much as glance at her again, I’ll rip your eyeballs out of your fucking head.”
****************
You were standing in line with three of your friends to buy tickets for a movie when one of them asked how things were going with Haruto.
“Okay I guess,” you answered. “I’m still not sure how I feel about him. I like him, but I don’t think I’m in love with him.”
Your friend Sumi smiled reassuringly. “Give it a little more time. You guys are still getting to know each other.”
Aiko, another friend that you had been on many missions with, sighed and patted your back. “You’re still holding out for Gojo Satoru, aren’t you?”
Sumi and the third friend Keiko looked surprised, and you instantly reddened. “Huh? Gojo? What do you mean?”
Sumi asked, looking from Aiko to you. 
“They hooked up,” Aiko said, “twice.”
You looked at her with wide eyes. You’d never told her about that. “How did you know?”
She grinned. “Actually I just suspected it, but now you’ve confirmed it.”
You winced, but she laughed and went on. “The first mission we were all three on, you left the sushi joint with his arm around you on the last night. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened. Especially with his reputation. Then the second time, you two disappeared together in the middle of a mission.”
Sumi and Keiko stared at you for a moment. When you didn’t deny anything Aiko said, they launched into a string of rapid questions. 
“How was it?”
You shrugged. “Uh, nice?”
“Is he good in bed?”
“…. Yes.”
“Does he really have a huge dick?”
You blushed, but nodded, and the girls made a squealing sound. 
“I heard he keeps his sunglasses on during sex. Is that true?”
“I asked him to take them off,” you answered. 
“Can’t believe you scored him twice,” Aiko said, interrupting the interrogation. “From what I’ve heard, he never sleeps with the same person more than once.”
You blinked. “Really?”
Aiko nodded. “Yeah, he’s a one and done kinda guy. Guess he doesn’t want to get serious with anyone. Speaking of which, you should be careful. Don’t get too involved with him. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to settle down, from what everyone says about him.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”  You gave a vague answer. Aiko had no idea what had really happened between you and Gojo. You hadn’t realized that being a repeat lover for him was so rare. You wondered what the girls would think if they knew he’d invited you to spend the weekend at his place. 
But all that was over, you reminded yourself. You and Gojo were over. You had more respect for yourself than to be flattered by a guy, even one as amazing as Gojo, wanting to use you as a sex friend. 
Your phone suddenly rang, and you fished it out of your purse to see who the caller was, thankful for the distraction. It was Haruto, and you felt a little guilty that you’d just been talking and thinking about another man. You answered, and his voice sounded strained on the other end. 
“I need to see you,” he was saying, the words coming out a little too quickly. “It’s urgent.”
“Right now? But we were just together,” you said, confusion building in your mind. You hoped he wasn’t just trying to get you in bed. His attempts had started to feel a little pushy lately. 
“It’s important,” he said. “I’ve rented a hotel room near the bar so we can talk privately.”
“Haruto, I’m really not comfortable going to a hotel with you.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking, I swear,” he told you, his voice sounding frantic. “I just… need to talk to you. And it has to be in person. Okay?”
You sighed. “Alright. If it’s just to talk.”
After you ended the call, you got a text from Haruto with the name of the hotel and the room number. You told your friends what happened and waved goodbye to them before heading back to see what was so urgent. 
As you walked down the carpeted hallway of the hotel, you felt a faint feeling of panic, like something might be very wrong. Had Haruto received bad news? Or perhaps he’d grown tired of waiting and had decided to break up with you. The thought made you feel relieved rather than worried, and you thought that was a bad sign for your relationship. 
You reached room 404 and took a deep breath before knocking. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Haruto stood on the other side. He looked terrible! His face was damp with sweat, his skin was pale, his eyes darted about like a frightened animal’s. “Haruto?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”
He stepped back and motioned you in without a word. When you stepped through the door, your breath caught in your throat. 
Sitting on the edge of the bed was Gojo. No blindfold or sunglasses, which was rare, and his face looked deadly serious, which was even more rare. He stood up as Haruto shut the door behind you. 
“Gojo? What are you doing here? What’s going on?”
Gojo’s expression softened when he looked at you. “I overheard your boyfriend talking to his buddy at the bar after you left. I think you deserve to know what he was saying.”
You looked curiously at Haruto. He wrung his hands nervously and looked at the floor. 
“Haruto,” Gojo said, and there was a coldness to his tone that you’d never heard before. It was like that one word alone was the most terrifying threat in the world. 
Haruto nearly jumped at the sound, then he finally looked you in the face. “Alright! Fuck it, I’ll admit it! I have cameras hidden all over my bedroom. I was gonna record us whenever I could talk you into sleeping with me!”
You stared at him, hearing the words but not processing them. “Record us? What are you talking about?”
“I was gonna make videos of you without telling you,” he said. 
Gojo chimed in. “Tell her what you were gonna do with the videos, Haruto.”
Haruto was avoiding your gaze again. “I was gonna share them with my friends. And maybe sell them online.”
Ah. So that was it. He didn’t like you. He didn’t care about you at all. He just wanted to sleep with you, just like Gojo. Just like all the guys who approached you in high school and even now. Only this was much worse. He wanted to share your intimate moments with others against your will. Thank god you hadn’t slept with him. 
You glared at him, your face feeling hot with humiliation and your eyes becoming wet. All this had to happen in front of Gojo! Haruto took a step toward you. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t-“
“Stop,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to hear another word. Stay away from me.”
He must have known you were serious by the look on your face. His expression changed from guilt to annoyance. “Fine. Whatever. I was only interested in you for your tits anyway. Not like you’ve got anything else I want.” 
Gojo stepped over to Haruto and shoved him toward the door. “Alright, you can get the fuck out now, you useless piece of shit.”
Haruto flinched at the harshness of Gojo’s voice, and was out the door in seconds. Now alone in the room with Gojo, you turned your back to him so he couldn’t look at your face. You were already embarrassed enough. 
“Thank you for warning me about him,” you said, trying and failing to keep your voice steady. You wanted to leave, but you also wanted to give Haruto enough time to be gone by the time you got down to the hotel lobby. You definitely didn’t want to run into him again. 
You heard Gojo’s footsteps coming closer to you, then his voice, so much softer than before, asking, “Are you okay?”
Wiping your eyes, you turned to face him, surprised that he was already so close. “I’ll be fine,” you said with a fake smile plastered on your mouth. Then you stepped toward the door to leave. 
Gojo suddenly grabbed your wrist. “Wait,” he said, “I was at the bar tonight because I knew you’d be there. I wanted to talk to you.”
You pulled your hand free of his gentle grip. Tears were still burning your eyes. “Please, I can’t handle this right now,” you told him. 
“Handle what?”
“You telling me again how I don’t meet your standards but you’ll lower yourself enough to fuck me sometimes. I get it, okay? Just please leave me alone.”
Gojo just stared at you, a hurt expression on his face. “I guess I deserve that,” he said. “But no, I came to apologize. I was wrong. I was an idiot, a dumbass, whatever you wanna call me. I said a lot of stupid shit that hurt you, and I’m sorry. If it’s not too late, could we start over?”
Your heart was doing flip flops. You’d longed to hear him say those words, but… after what just happened with Haruto, you had to be more careful. 
You looked away from him, not wanting to let him charm you with those beautiful eyes of his. “Do you want me as a sex friend?
Or something more?”
He moved closer, close enough to put his hands on your shoulders. “You’re all I can think about when we’re apart. I miss the way we talked during that first mission, the way you laughed. I want us to go back to that. I want to see where this goes. So I guess I’m asking if you’ll be my girlfriend.”
You turned away from him. “I’d love to, but I can’t be a secret, Gojo. If you can’t tell anyone about us-“
“I’ll tell the whole world!”
You looked at his face. “What?”
He looked totally serious. “I’ll tell everyone. I want everyone to know.”
You almost dove into his arms, but something held you back. “It’s easy to say that here, right now, in a hotel room. Will you still say that in the morning?”
He hesitated for a moment, and you felt that familiar sense of dread. But then he pulled out his phone and closed the distance between you. He wrapped one arm around you and pulled your face closer to his, then he kissed your cheek. At the same time, his other hand held up his phone and took a selfie of the two of you.  
He pulled away and began tapping on his phone, leaving you stunned into silence. Then, your phone chimed. You pulled it out and found a notification that you’d been tagged in a post on Mystigram. With trembling fingers, you opened it to see. 
Gojo had posted the picture of him kissing your cheek to his page, and tagged you in it. The caption read: “Me and my hot girlfriend! Try not to be jealous!”
Your eyes flew back to his face. He was grinning at you. The post started getting comments immediately. 
Itadori Yuji: Congrats, sensei! 😁
Kugisaki Nobara: Ugh, she’s way too pretty for you! 
Ieiri Shoko: Try not to fuck this up.
You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. But you had one more question. 
“What made you change your mind?”
Gojo was laughing as he read over the comments pouring in. “Oh, it just took Shoko talking some sense into me. I was going crazy, worrying about you being on missions, wondering what you were doing, craving your homemade sweets… so I went to her for advice. She’s always had a way of making me see logic.”
“You told her about me?”
“We’ve been friends since high school. Of course I told her,” he said. Then he laughed again. “I told Nanami too but I don’t think he was paying much attention. I was mid sentence when he said, ‘Please stop telling me about your sordid escapades. I’m going to vomit.’ And that was all he had to say about it.”
He’d told his friends about you. He’d been worried enough about this situation to consult them. And he didn’t mind those closest to him knowing about you, even before realizing he’d been wrong. Those thoughts warmed your heart. 
Before you knew it, you were crying again, so overwhelmed with emotion. Gojo dropped his phone on the bed and wrapped his arms around you. “So? Are we a couple now?” he asked. 
You nodded against his chest, and his arms tightened slightly. “Great,” he said, stroking your hair. “Want me to fuck you?”
A laugh escaped your lips, and the tears stopped. You pulled back and looked up at him. “So romantic.”
He leaned down and kissed you. “I’ve been dreaming about rearranging your insides,” he whispered, his voice tingling in your ear. “Have you been dreaming about me?”
You kissed him back, tasting his lips. “Yes,” you breathed out. 
“What were you dreaming?” he asked, his voice turning husky as his hands began to roam over your body. 
“Ahh,” you moaned as he kissed your neck. “It’s… embarrassing…” You had been dreaming about him. A lot. Most of it had been quite filthy.
One of his hands slipped under your dress, rubbing up your bare thigh and then squeezing your ass. “Embarrassing? Heh. I’m gonna have to fuck that shyness out of you.”
That sounded fun, you thought, raising your arms to allow him to pull your dress over your head. You unzipped his jacket, your hands desperately trying to get his clothes off as fast as possible. 
The jacket discarded, he pulled his black T-shirt off next, then stood back to look at you in your silky black underwear. “Seriously,” he said, “tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen, whatever it is. Any fantasy, any dirty idea that pops into your head. I wanna hear it.”
You looked at the floor and muttered something. 
“What was that?”
You stepped closer and met his gaze. “I said… I want you in my mouth.”
His beautiful eyes widened, and there was a glimmer of excitement in them as he grinned and said, “Holy fuck, I hit the jackpot!”
***********
Gojo was lying on his back in the bed, completely nude, his naked girlfriend halfway across him, her warm, wet mouth greedily sucking his cock. He raised his head up to watch. He couldn’t imagine a more lovely sight than her soft, full lips sliding down his shaft. 
He moved one hand down to touch her hair, just happy to have her within reach. She glanced sideways at him, her face tinted pink. How cute of her to be shy even while deep throating him. 
He’d had plenty of blowjobs in his life, even given a few, but this… this was different. Was it because he’d formed an emotional connection to her? He felt so much affection for her that simply being touched by her at all felt far better than anything he’d experienced with anyone else. 
Well, with one exception, but he wasn’t ready to think about that, to compare them. He’d tucked those memories into a neat little box in the back of his mind where they could remain untouched and protected. 
But this wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste her too. He grabbed hold of her legs and swung them up and over him, so that she was lying face down on top of him, her head at his groin and his at hers. She gave a little cry of surprise and drew her knees forward to lift herself off him, but that only spread her thighs apart and gave him easier access. 
“G-Gojo, what are you doing?” Her voice sounded so flustered. He could practically hear the embarrassed arousal. 
“I thought I told you to call me Satoru,” he murmured, pressing his lips ever so gently to her heated, quivering flesh. She jerked, but he grabbed her hips and held her in place. He waited, feeling her taut legs relax slowly, giving her time to get used to this extremely intimate position. 
“Don’t stare at me,” she said in a shy voice, then he felt her lips around his cock again. 
“Oh I’m gonna do so much more than stare,” he said back, using his fingers to open her folds. “I’m gonna do so many embarrassing things to you…” He ran his tongue over her open slit, tasting the plentiful juices. She was drenched, and deliciously sweet. He felt her body twitch nervously, but her mouth never slacked off. He felt her tongue lapping at his tip, her soft hands squeezing wherever they could. 
Her clit was so cute, sitting there so glossy with his saliva and her fluids, completely defenseless to him. His thumb rubbed over it, then he prodded it with his tongue, drawing circles around it. 
She shifted, her mouth leaving his dick long enough for her to moan out, “Satoru… I’m… I’m about to…”
He licked her clit again, slowly. “You can cum first,” he said.
She wiggled a bit in his grasp, but then took him into her mouth again, stifling her own moans. She took him so far in it felt like he was being swallowed, and the little gagging sound she made sent shivers through his entire body. Now it felt like a competition, and Gojo never lost. 
His tongue was on her clit again, and he pushed two fingers inside her, curling them in a way that made her thighs tremble on either side of him. He felt himself slide out of her mouth, and then her tongue was gliding over him from base to tip. He could feel his cock twitching under her touch, but he kept himself under control. Then, he heard her sweet little voice say, “Satoru… cum in my mouth… please?”
Fuck, she wasn’t playing fair! His breath hitched in his throat, a shudder rippling through him, but he wasn’t defeated just yet. He leaned up and lapped at her clit again, gently, slowly, feeling her clenching his fingers, and then he grazed his teeth over it, lightly pulling on the tiny nub. 
She moaned around his cock, her legs shaking, and he knew he’d won. He kept pumping his fingers into her as she rode out her orgasm, her lips still around the base of his cock. With no more reason to hold back, he let the feeling of her hot mouth overwhelm him, and he came straight into her throat. 
He let his head fall back onto the pillow as he panted, and she took the opportunity to turn her body around so that her legs fell off the side of the bed, her face still buried in his crotch. She waited until he was completely empty before she removed her mouth, but a few strings of cum were drizzling down his cock. He held his head up enough to look down at her as she licked him clean.
When finished, she straightened up, sitting on her knees beside the bed. She looked like an angel, or a goddess. How could he have ever thought he was out of her league? How did it take him so long to realize how amazing she was? He’d been a fucking fool. 
He sat up in the bed and smiled at her. “Take a shower with me?”
She blushed. “A shower? I guess so.”
He laughed. “How are you shy after everything we’ve done? I had my face shoved in your pussy just now.”
She turned beet red. “Ahhh! Don’t say that! I was trying not to think about it!”
He stood up from the bed and pulled her into a hug, their naked bodies pressed against each other. “Do you still doubt how hot you are? You can’t even imagine how many times I’ve jacked off while thinking about you.”
She looked up at him. “Really?”
He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Really.”
She smiled then, and took his hand as they walked into the bathroom. 
**************
You were still nervous about showering with Gojo. It felt like such a private thing to do, but he seemed really into the idea, so you agreed. He joked around as he turned the water on, pretending he didn’t know how to work the knobs and “accidentally” spraying himself in the face. He was trying to put you at ease, and it was mostly working. You found yourself giggling at his antics as you both stepped into the large, walk-in shower. 
Before you could even reach for the small bottle of shampoo sitting in a tiny corner shelf, Gojo suddenly shoved your back against the glass shower door and kissed you passionately, his mouth overtaking your own. The steamy water was spraying both your bodies, soaking his shiny hair, running down his torso. Without even looking, you knew he was hard again, the large erection pressing against your stomach. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands slipped under your thighs, lifting you up so that your legs could wrap around his body. You were pinned against the shower door when you felt him push inside you, deeply, roughly, the way you loved it. Your back collided with the glass with every powerful thrust, an ache you’d been craving building between your legs as he pounded into you. 
You were going to be covered in bruises after this, but that thought only turned you on even more. Gojo had that wild look in his eyes, the one that almost made you cum on the spot. You wanted him to break you. It wasn’t that you were a masochist. It wasn’t pain that excited you, but rather watching him lose control, seeing that unhinged expression and knowing you had that effect on him, that you could drive him mad with your body. The pain, the bruises, they were just the evidence. 
Burying your face in his neck, you tried to muffle your moans, your breaths shuddering. He was making such lovely grunts and growls, his fingers digging into your soft thighs. You chanced a peek at his face, and he looked like an entirely different person from the man who’d just been joking around with you. His wet hair was partially covering one eye, the other practically glowing with uncontrolled lust, his lips parted, teeth showing as ragged breaths pushed through them. 
God, he was beautiful. Frighteningly so. Inhumanly so. For the second time, you wondered if he actually was a god that had been banished to earth. He certainly fucked like one. 
Your legs slipped from his waist, the water making it hard to keep your grip, and they dangled helplessly above the floor. He didn’t even seem to notice that he was holding more of your weight as he plowed into you, every thrust feeling deeper than the last. Your arms were still around his neck, but your strength was failing you. You clasped your hands tightly and leaned your face up to kiss him. His mouth was hungry upon yours, his tongue shoving its way in. 
When you came, your arms fell to your sides and your body went limp in his arms, quivering with pleasure as he kept fucking you. His grip on you tightened, and after several more minutes of being slammed into the glass door, you felt his whole body stiffen. Then, you felt hot cum shoot deeply inside you as Gojo groaned. 
He stayed inside you for several more minutes, even after he’d finished cumming. It was like he didn’t want to separate from you, but eventually he pulled out and set you back on your feet. You legs gave way immediately, as if they were made of spaghetti, but Gojo caught you. He held you gently until you regained your strength, then he reached you the soap with a grin. 
“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,” he said. 
You laughed, taking the soap from him as he turned his toned back to you. 
An hour later, you were both dressed and sitting on the bed in the hotel room, talking about what each of you had been up to lately. During a lull in the conversation, you leaned your head over on his shoulder and whispered, “Is this real?”
“Hmm?”
You hesitated, then said, “I keep waiting for you to say this won’t work out.”
He wrapped an arm around you. “I’m not gonna lie and say this will be easy. I travel a lot for missions, and my teaching job is important to me, but we can make it work. We’ll spend time together whenever we can. Speaking of which… wanna come to my place next weekend?”
You laughed, feeling the tension dissipate from your body. “For pancakes? Sure.”
“And debauchery,” he said. “Don’t forget the debauchery.”
****************
Epilogue:
The first thing you thought when you arrived at Gojo’s house was, “Holy shit, it’s huge!”
Gojo stepped up beside you and gave you a peck on the cheek. “That’s what she said.”
You giggled at his silly joke and let him lead you inside. The house was of an old fashioned design, with a closed in yard, sliding doors, tatami floors, the whole works. It was a sprawling estate that looked as if it would have dozens of servants roaming the halls. 
“You really live here all by yourself?”
He shook his head as he laid out some slippers for you to change into, then pulled off his own shoes. “I have an apartment near the school that I use most of the time. I don’t use this place often, but this is a special weekend.”
“It’s beautiful,” you said, looking around. Despite the classic design of the structure, it had modern furnishings. You were admiring a lovely vase on a glossy wooden end table when you noticed a large cardboard box sitting just inside the living room. It looked totally out of place, and Gojo noticed your interest. 
“Go ahead and look inside,” he told you, a strange smile on his lips. 
“Okay…” 
You approached the box and pulled the flaps open, squatting down to get a good look. Inside was an assortment of items you couldn’t quite identify at first. But as you began pulling them out and looking more closely, your face began to burn. 
“Are these… all sex toys?!”
Gojo laughed at your reaction. “Well, not all of them. There’s some costumes, handcuffs, edible underwear…”
You grimaced as you pulled out what appeared to be a riding crop, then the biggest dildo you’d ever seen in your life. There was also a skimpy maid costume, among other bizarre garments. “Why is all this stuff just sitting here in a box?”
Gojo rubbed the back of his head, messing up his hair a bit. He looked oddly shy. “I ordered it all. I figured we could have fun trying a bunch of stuff, see what we like.”
That did sound like fun. You examined each item, sometimes having no idea what its function was. 
Gojo sat down on the floor beside you, watching your face as you looked though the box. “If there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable, just put it back in the box and I’ll toss it. Or better yet, I’ll have it delivered to Nanami’s place.”
You laughed then, imagining the strait laced-looking man you met a few days ago opening a box full of items like these. 
When you were finished sorting them into piles of “will definitely try”, “might try”, and “hard no”, you and Gojo both stood up. “So, are you going to give me a tour?” you asked.  
Gojo gave you a somewhat menacing grin, his dark sunglasses blocking out your view of his eyes. “Sure. Let’s start with the basement.”
The End. 
Tag List:
@snowprincesa1 @pandoraium @hitori979 @famousdestinyland @gloomysel @noodlejitsu @postmancat @lanecass @aquamarine001 @officialholyagua @lil-bexie @kisssatoru @tqd4455 @yoriichiskatana @karmcrim15 @pyschopotatomeme @whippedbyikemen @changingchances @1985bitch @ritsatoru @prophecyflame @haileycannotcometothephonern @creolequeen11210 @onyxino @crimsonmarabou @thick-skull89 @risuola @yourhotcupcake101 
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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months
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why do i feel like könig would make the most poetic heart shattering, tear jerking love letter for engel and she just ends up crying reading each word carefully(its either written in german or english does NOT matter would still cry)
He would though 😭💌
König is a hopeless romantic without even knowing it. He rarely uses his phone except to quickly check something, rarely texts you unless you text him first and never uses emojis, but he does write to you when he's away, even if it's just for a week. And it's not a cute little postcard you're getting...
Because König will send you 3–5 page letters when he's deployed. He sends them even during a mission if he can.
You know it because some of those letters have dirt on them, mainly fingerprints from his gloves, and they're in a poor condition overall because he's had to quickly tuck them away in the middle of writing them. It's not recommended that soldiers like him do stuff like that, send letters to their sweethearts during a covert operation, but König always finds a way.
He's spent hours on them too, because the first thing you notice is his handwriting: now much more eloquent when he's writing to you instead of filling out a dull form or briefly adding something to the grocery list. He's clearly made an effort in trying to make the letters thoughtful and romantic (without even knowing it), tries to play Mr. Darcy or something even though you know for a fact that König has never watched a single period drama in his life.
He just thinks that's what men do, or at least should do; write love letters to their girls back home. It both creeps you out and tugs at your heart to see the rigid, unusual calligraphy paired with smudged fingerprint stains on those multiple sheets of white. You wonder if the other soldiers think he's weird or laugh at him for writing letters to his girl like it's 1916 and he's stuck in trench warfare when he could simply give you a holler through a text.
He talks about how his days have been, the things he saw today (an abandoned cat, a beautiful big spruce, a flower that reminded him of you), but mostly, he talks of his love for you and how much he misses you.
He mourns that you can't send him a letter back (technically, you could send one to the base, but it's not recommended either), and says that he always carries a picture of you with him. He will bring you a little something, a souvenir of sorts from his missions (you already know it's going to be a dried flower if it's summertime). He says the thoughts of you help him fall asleep and that he misses your smile the most of all. He will kiss you all over when he gets back.
One time, he tells you about a statue of an angel he saw where he was dropped. The details of his work are forbidden from civilians such as you, but he always shares the things he can. He paints a bittersweet picture of how he watched that statue survive the relentless hammering of air support, grenades and showered bullets while the rest of the city fell around in ruins. It stood there, untouched by mud and horror and death even as people around him got hit.
He tells you the angel reminded him of you.
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meiieiri · 9 months
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hii could you please write about how the jjk men's social media would look like, like what would they post, how often, what socials they would have? sorry if this is 2 specific!!
HOW THEIR INSTAGRAM PAGES WOULD LOOK LIKE [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]
❁—CHARACTERS: nanami kento, yuta okkotsu, gojo satoru (toji isn’t here bc the only online platform he’s on is onlyfans)
a/n: hey hey~ no worries! i love making stuff like these anyway, thanks for this btw, had a lot of fun making these. i only made ig as their socials as of rn because i don’t have twitter so i don’t rlly know how that works ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
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༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO
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↬ nanami’s instagram would have really warm, vibrant tones to accentuate each and every mundane detail of his life into something that looks so euphoric and almost utopian-like which isn’t at all surprising seeing as this man has seen so much pain and suffering for a good majority of his life.
↬ i think he’d pick up photography as a hobby, maybe he’ll dabble into playing around with the settings on adobe lightroom or maybe secretly attend saturday workshops, on his way home from his bakery run, where he gets to learn all the fundamentals on photography composition. he eventually learns about instagram and he downloads the app on a whim when he gets bored at work. he appreciates the user friendly interface and gets the hang of it pretty quickly. he usually posts thrice a month, more if his schedule allows.
↬ now the thing with kento is he doesn’t usually put captions on his photos other than single emojis like: “🐱” or “🥐”. an exception to this is when he posts your birthday photos. he lovingly spares a few words for you that are minimal, at best, only containing a short birthday greeting. but hey, it’s written in pretty font, sooo~~
kento watches you from the couch situated near your home’s screen door leading to the pocket garden the two of you set up when you first moved in together. a small smile plays at his lips when you momentarily jump in surprise as your cat rubs herself against your legs finally ending your little game of hide and seek. “there you are,” you crouch down to scratch her ears. the loving scene of domesticity unfolds before him like a record tape from the nineties, complete with subdued hues of yellow and rose. “sweetheart, could you look here for a bit?” he calls as he fumbles with his phone. you look up confused and that’s when he decides to snap the picture. “hey! i wasn’t ready,” you protest. but he’s already posting the picture on his instagram with the caption: “💕”.
༊*·˚ YUTA OKKOTSU
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↬ yuta has a fascination with sunsets. there’s just something so alluring and somewhat sorrowful about the last flicker of sunlight waging a war against her opponent, the night sky and her stars, to keep its dominion over the sky. yuta has always struggled with the notion of impermanence — he finds change to be downright terrifying which is why he took it upon himself to confront this fear by taking pictures of the setting sun, a form of change that is ironically as unchanging as his love for a certain someone, hehe.
↬ he normally uses his instagram as a digital journal of sorts. he’s always away owing to the many missions he’s now been assigned as a sorcerer second only to gojo satoru. he writes down entries, as much as possible, on a weekly basis to properly process the many emotions he’s felt that day.
↬ naturally, you’re always the first to view the pictures ergo press the heart button which always makes him turn a bright shade of pink despite the many years you’ve been together. AND, even though you’ve already technically seen the pictures, yuta will ALWAYS show it to you again when he gets home from work and regale you with all the amazing details about his recent trip.
yuta practically melted into your arms when he came in through the front door. “missed you,” he murmurs. you crane your head back to get a good look at him and you heave a sigh of blissful relief when you neither find a single scratch nor bruise on him. “are you alright, my love?” he asks, head tilted to the right, his eyes wide with curiosity at your silence. “yeah, fine,” you shake your head, playfully pinching his unscathed cheek earning a whistle-like chortle from the young sorcerer. “you know,” he says thoughtfully when his laughter dies down. “i never realized how beautiful the hida mountains are,” he recounts the wondrous things he’d seen and taken photos of from the sleepy lake town they took refuge in, to the mighty mountain river he and gojo had crossed on their way to the summit, to the towering willow trees with branches so ancient they could practically block out the sun, and finally to the mysterious abandoned forest shrine that only showed itself to an honored few, emerging from the haze like a ghostly apparition. he continues to ramble on for a substantial amount of time, scrolling through his phone gallery, not knowing that you’d dozed off. “2:48 AM,” the clock read. yuta sighs at your sleeping form, hearts practically swarming in his eyes. he lifts the blankets to cover your forms. “guess we’ll just have to go together someday,” he says, pecking your cheek before shifting ever so carefully to turn off the nightlight.
༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU
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↬ posts low contrast pictures with low brightness because he’s cool that way. if not for the fact that he mostly shares memes, his feed actually looks pretty good, it’s subtle but appealing in many ways and it looks glorious on dark mode, it kinda reminds you of those pinterest or twitter moodboards. he knows his way around setting a moody vibe on his feed, and to think almost all of his pictures were shot on his old iphone. satoru gojo, the strongest sorcerer of his generation, much to the surprise of many, is actually quite talented. who would’ve thought?
↬ but please PLEASE someone get instagram away from this man, the world is not ready for his genius. now unlike the others, satoru uses instagram purely for fun. and yes, he posts dumb shit like they’re scripture. he got in trouble with the community once when he posted a picture of dixie (depicted above) from the teletubbies with the caption: “bake those cookies dixie”. you had to help him submit an incident report to the community moderators and a promissory note stating that he’ll never post such lewd things again. and he didn’t (thank god). for a full week, that is. he relapsed almost immediately.
↬ on the bright side, though, his followers always find it cute whenever he posts pictures of the two of you on your dates, even the ever-stoic nanami couldn’t resist the urge to smile whenever he comes across a picture of his senior having the time of his life with you. god knows how much gojo satoru deserves to love and be loved in return, even if he once thought it to be the most repulsive of curses.
gojo watches you from the other end of the table, a tipsy simper on his features when he notices your eyelids drooping, your head bobbing in your drunken stupor, your lips slightly open as your breathing evens out. “you drunk, baby?” he slurs as he polishes off the last of the yakiniku set you ordered, the oily, sweet and salty grilled meat seemingly simmering down the effect of the alcohol. you were the only ones left in the izakaya, at this point, the owner has half a mind to throw the both of you out so they could close for the night. “nooooo,” you sniffle before a tiny hiccup rips through your throat. cute, satoru stares at you with lovestruck eyes. “stop that,” you look at him through your blurred vision. “stop what?” satoru asks, his head resting on the hardwood table as his hand searches his jeans for his phone. he had to capture this moment before he blacks out. “looking at me like i’m the most beautiful girl in the room,” you scowl disapprovingly. he manages to find his iphone just before he nods off to sleep, snapping a picture of the both of you. empty plates and half-finished shot glasses are strewn about your table and the night’s festivities are perfectly captured in the frame. the two of you looked absolutely hammered — your normally tidy hair was disheveled, and his face looked like a cross between a sore thumb and a ripe tomato — but still, you looked happy. and to satoru, that’s all that really matters. “but you are, baby,” he pats you on the head before finally passing out. “you are.”
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thesupreme316 · 10 months
Note
its me again 🤪 i was wondering if you could do aew boys reaction to you getting attacked by your tag team partner exp: you guys lost a tag match and you partner attacks you i hope i explained well🫶🏼🩷
I GOTCHUUUU
AEW Stars React to: You Being Attacked By Your Tag Partner
Pairings: Hook X Reader, Eddie Kingston X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader, Darius Martin X Reader, Kenny Omega X Reader, MJF X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader
Word Count: 1K
Supreme Speaks: thanks to @cassiesworldsworld for requesting (keep em coming)! Reader is gender-neutral in this. nothing else...I hope you all are doing well and please remember that you are loved and appreciated
Warnings: Nun, barely proofread, GIFS ARE NOT MINE
Taglist: @cassiesworldsworld @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @wwenhlimagines @triscillal @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey
Okay, I have 3 options for this (Reader is gender-neutral applicable to anyone; your partner is of your choosing):
Either you lose via roll-up and are attacked immediately after the match (Bayley attacks Sasha Banks)
After the match, you were attacked by your tag partner who joins the enemy (Luchasaurus attacks Jungle Boy and joins with Christian Cage)
Y’all lost the match, get a standing ovation, and your partner attacks you after you guys hug (Tommaso Ciampa attacks Johnny Gargano)
Bottomline is you were attacked and now your significant other/best friend is angry
Hook
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Mans is big mad; like big big mad
You thought he was trying to whip Jack’s ass? Wait until he sees you get attacked
Man will jump over your body real quick to try to punch your former tag partner (if they are a male)
^^might get a heart attack to be honest from him leaping
Will immediately carry backstage as your former tag partner runs to the back
Is simmering with anger as you try to convince you’re okay
“I’m happy that you’re okay. I just really wanna kill that son of a bitch”
Does not take this matter lightly, especially after Jack betraying him
If you wanna get your lick back, just let him and he’ll take care of everything
Ricky Starks
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Just like Hook, he would take this shit so seriously (cause of Hobbs betraying him)
But also I feel like he would understand the former partner’s stance as he betrayed Brian Cage (ew)
Will comfort you as you have multiple emotions running through your mind
“They’re missing out on a friendship with a bombass, beautiful, fierce, strong, athletic, and great person….and you too.”
I think he would be the type to transform you (ring gear, style, promos) so you can show your former partner that you’re simply better (nail emoji)
Like I’m talking early 2000s movie montage
Ricky would definitely help you plan your revenge
Overall, I believe this man would help you get back on your feet
Darius Martin
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His heart would break for you and would be the one to sprint out to help you out of the ring and up the ramp
Darius is a very loyal person as he frequently rotates between AR Fox, Matt Sydal, his brother, and Action Andretti for tag partner
Will always offer a place on his team for you
“You know you always got me and the boys.”
Will take his thoughts to Twitter just to shit on them
I also think Darius will make it his mission to make sure that you were well taken care of; advises you to choose peace before violence
But if too much violence takes place; he’s walking out with a steel chair and zero fucks to give
Eddie Kingston
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THIS MAN??? HE DOESNT CARE WHO THEY ARE; THEY’RE GETTING THEIR ASS CHEWED UP, SPAT OUT, AND BEAT TF UP
Will again blame Claudio, Bryan, and Punk for everything (don’t let him find out they joined BCC)
I think he would take this more personally than you, especially if they joined with his enemies
“FUCK THAT LOW DOWN, SLIMY, SWISS CHEESE BITCH! AND BRYAN TOO, THAT TECHNICAL ASS BITCH! I’ll stab them dawg don’t worry”
Eddie is the type to ride or die for his people; so he is one of the first people to stand with you against the traitor
Is absolutely down for revenge or crazy plans
“I still got that gasoline can if you need dawg.”
Daniel Garcia
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Will immediately offer you a place in JAS (like I always say, PLEASE say NO)
But also with the way JAS is right now, he would take time to team with you; so he can also find peace
Will be smug toward your former teammate
“Listen here, Y/N is a talented person and you’re gonna wish you didn’t cross them.” Dances away
Like stated earlier, I think he would take this time to fully understand his position with his own teammates
Daniel would be your #1 cheerleader on Twitter and tag them in various posts shitting on them (like Darius)
Will give you advice on how to carry on and will try to convince you to be a sports entertainer
MJF
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THIS MOTHERFUCKER
Always had a feeling that it was coming, but he wouldn’t tell you and is angry with the entire situation
Has to keep in character on Twitter:
“Look, I understand that Y/N loses a lot, isn’t as good as me, and has terrible taste in tag partners but that doesn’t mean you had to dump em!”
Will lecture about how you shouldn’t really trust anyone but yourself in the business, but empathizes with you (if he can) about having friends and supportive people
Like Daniel, might take this time to reflect
Will devise a revenge plan that involves sabotaging your former tag partner’s plans/goals
“Babe, I’m the devil. I can make anything happen.”
Kenny Omega
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Like most people on this list, Kenny has experienced being on both sides of this situation; so he completely understands the feelings involved
Will offer you a spot in the Elite (that can go either way)
I think because of the fact that he has a lot going on with himself, he would let you do whatever you want
Is more emotional support than physical support at the moment
Will help further the storyline of your revenge and character development on BTE
Outta all the people on this list, he would give you the best advice
“I think you need to take some time for yourself and see what is in the future for you…and if the answer is revenge, make sure you have money aside for bail…for me.”
202 notes · View notes
narumi-gens · 1 year
Text
Never Felt a Feeling Like This
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Narumi Gen x f!Reader
summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)
notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.
words: 6.3k
part of the Agents of Chaos series
minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment
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As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 
All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 
The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 
With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 
Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 
“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 
But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.
“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”
Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.
“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 
He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 
Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?
But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.
You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 
It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 
Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.
You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 
“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”
But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 
“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 
You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 
“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 
“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 
Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.
The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 
Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 
There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 
The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”
With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.
You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 
“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 
But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 
You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 
When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 
“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”
“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 
“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 
However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 
His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 
The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 
Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 
The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.
His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 
Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 
With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.
He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.
And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 
His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.
What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 
Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 
It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.
But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.
He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.
It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 
He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 
“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 
Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.
You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 
The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 
His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 
He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 
And he also notices that it twitched upward. 
For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.
However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 
His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 
Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 
Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.
All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.
What would you look like in just your lab coat?
His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 
And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.
He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 
The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 
You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 
Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 
When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 
“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.
His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.
“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 
You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.
“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 
“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.
“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”
Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 
“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”
He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 
You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.
There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 
A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.
Simple as that.
Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.
Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.
“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 
As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.
He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 
But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.
He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.
The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.
“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 
“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.
“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 
Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  
“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 
But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 
“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 
Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 
“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 
Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 
“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!
Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.
He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.
He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.
He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 
As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 
With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 
Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 
But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.
His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.
From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏
He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis
He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 
From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪
He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱
Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.
From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 
From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏
From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️
From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫
His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝
It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏
He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 
The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 
Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 
Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 
His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 
He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 
When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 
Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 
What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.
And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 
Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?
He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 
He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  
After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 
He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.
He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 
He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 
And you would, wouldn’t you?
Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 
You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 
And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 
Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 
His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 
As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 
His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 
He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 
However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 
His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO
That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 
When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.
After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 
From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.
“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.
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upon-a-starry-night · 5 months
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Number Neighbors Pt.11
Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist
Word Count: 982
Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?
Note: This story does not follow the MCU timeline exactly
---
When you got home you immediately called your mom to tell her about Leon. You explained your whole day and how you felt a new surge in energy and determination just from one date- could you even call it a date? It felt like one.
Your mother was happy for you but in true mother fashion, she urged you to be cautious and not jump into things too quickly. You assured her you would be careful but you couldn’t help but wish she was a little more excited for you. 
After all, it was so hard for you to make friends let alone find someone interested in you, this guy was like a dream come true.
He wasn’t Captain America-level hot but he made up for it with personality
In hopes of receiving a warmer response- and not because you missed her or anything- you broke your silent streak and texted Nat the good news.
~
Nat didn’t know what to do when you texted her that you wished you could hear her voice. Part of her was scared at just how eager she was to give in to your request, how keen she was to hear your voice, how close she’d been to hitting that call button that haunted her day in and day out. 
But you would know.
You knew what The Black Widow sounded like, you’d watched her interviews, you would recognize her voice and that would complicate things.
Would you be mad at her for not telling you?
Would you be weirded out?
Would you give out her number?
She didn’t think you were the kind of person who would do that but it was in her nature to be cautious of everyone and everything. She knew it was probably hurting you that she wasn’t comfortable enough to talk to you but she was scared and that scared her. 
She was The Black Widow for fucks sake, she didn’t get scared, especially not of…well you.
At least that’s what she was trying to convince herself.
Because maybe deep down she knew that she’d already let you in more than she’d meant to.
Deep down she knew she cared about you, and caring was a weakness.
So she spent her Sunday in the training room working off her frustration and she went on her mission and let it consume her mind. She tried to ignore the concerned looks Steve would give her, and the curious ones Clint would throw her way. It was hard being around people who knew you so well.
Both men had noticed the change in her, from someone who wasn’t very interested in social media to suddenly texting every day. They had tried to coax it out of her but she wasn’t ready to share you with anyone yet, let alone admit that she had grown attached to someone. She was sure both men would scold her for trusting someone over text but she was smart and she did her research on you.
She knew the school you graduated from, the business where you worked, the name of your first pet. She was thorough and although the rest of The Avengers never underestimated her, it seemed like sometimes they forgot how prepared she was in every situation.
Every situation but this one it seemed. Emotions were not her forte.
So she let you go silent because she didn’t know what else to do, a part of her was worried as time went on that you weren’t going to text her ever again but come Saturday evening her phone pinged with a notification and her heart skipped a beat at the familiar ice cream emoji that popped up. 
She refused to acknowledge just how fast she opened her phone and clicked on the message.
However, her anticipation and relief were quickly replaced by a pit in her stomach as she read and re-read your text.
       Y/n🍦:
Y/n🍦:
I met a guy!
Nat recognized the feeling in her chest as the same one that she’d felt when she’d met Peter and Wanda. There was an initial protectiveness over their naivety and kindness. 
She felt something akin to that now and she didn’t know why. 
Perhaps it was because you were a young woman living alone in New York and it was her job to protect people like you. But a deeper part of her recognized that wasn’t the case. 
She was worried about you, she had missed you, and while she had been brooding about if you’d ever talk to her again you’d been out meeting new people. 
She knew she didn’t have a right to be upset though. It was her who’d made you upset. She never texted first. She tried to be reserved. 
And you texted her with so much excitement.
She couldn’t bring herself to ruin your joy- or your silent forgiveness of her actions.
            Y/n🍦:
Nat🔪:
Like an actual guy or?
Y/n🍦:
Har-Har
I talk to real people you know
Nat🔪:
Yes, the tennis ball and basketball 
with googly eyes.
They are very real Y/n, I know.
Y/n🍦:
Someone had extra sassy juice today
Nat🔪:
Well I own the company
I have to taste-test the products
Y/n🍦:
Well for your information
This volley-ball with eyes
is cute and wears a leather jacket
Nat🔪:
Hold on- Why do I hear faint music playing
in the background?
Oh wait, my limbs are moving on their own.
I feel a dance coming on
Y/n🍦:
You ass!
He’s very real!
His name is Leon.
Nat🔪:
Leon backward is Noel
You met a Christmas elf.
Congratulations.
Tell Santa I said hi!
Y/n🍦:
OkAy but really-
Can I tell you about him?
Pleeeease?
Nat🔪:
You can tell me anything, Y/n.
Anytime.
You had no idea just how true that statement was. Even if Nat didn’t care about the topic she would listen to you for hours if it made you happy. 
Pt.12
She's back! and sassier than ever! But how will Y/n and Nat interact with this third person entering the story?~ Starry
~Taglist~
@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx
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pink-tonic · 4 months
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Description: After a sudden death at Akademi High, the students are given a short break. Once they come back, everything seems normal, but that isn't fully the case.
The leader of the Newspaper Club and childhood friend of Ayato Aishi, (Y/N) (L/N), is trying to get to the bottom of the death and putting a stop to any future tragedies.
But with the added obstacles of admirers and strained relationships, will he be able to complete this goal before anyone else is killed?
(Ayato Aishi, Taeko Yamada, and various male rivals x male reader)
Warnings: Yandere themes (Stalking, obsessiveness, Killing, unhealthy relationships), death, sexual harassment, bullying, graphic depictions of violence, and mentions of blood
(These themes won't be present in every chapter, but I'll make sure to put a warning before the start if they do show up)
Additional Notes: To get something out the way, I DON'T support Yandere Dev at all. I find his actions to be horrible, but I just didn't have the heart to trash this story. This is my most planned story, and I just don't want to get rid of it because of someone's actions. I hope you understand.
This story has an alternating POV between (Y/N) and Ayato. Each chapter will have a newspaper or a knife emoji. The newspaper is for your POV and the knife is for Ayato's POV
Chapters
Prologue📰
Prologue🔪
The First Day📰
Day One🔪
A Week In📰
Week One🔪
Come Get Your Paper!📰
Set the Plan Into Motion🔪
The False Letter📰
Can This Be Called a Success?🔪
What to Do?📰
New Week and a New Face📰
Time to go Back🔪
It Haunts Me📰
Moving On🔪
Hostage Mission🔪
Odd📰
What's the Hold Up?🔪
A New Week and a New Treat🔪
Answer to the Problem🔪
Outcome🔪
Did You Hear?📰
A New Week and New Drama🔪
I'm Not Made for That!📰
The Plan is Happening Now?🔪
This is How You Do It🔪
Another Letter?📰
Give Him This🔪
In Love?📰
Failure🔪
A New Week, a New Oddity📰
Stalker Stalking Another Stalker🔪
Picture Perfect for Me🔪
The Feeling That Stays📰
What's Going On?📰
Do What You Have to Do🔪
It's Over🔪
Guilt📰
A New Week and a New Realization🔪
Eye-Catching📰
No Explanation🔪
Missing📰
Who Needed You Anyway?🔪
Swim to Your Heart's Content🔪
Too Much📰
Realization🔪
New Week and a New Nurse📰
A New Start?🔪
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