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#mochi-writings
mochimooon · 2 months
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handsy - jean kirstein x reader 18+
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Jean really likes to finger-fuck you. 'Nuff said. notes - established relationship. this came to me suddenly one morning and possessed me to write this on the fly. Zero plot, barely edited, minor POV switch, just filth :) warnings - explicit content, vaginal fingering, pervy! jean word count - 1800+
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Jean is a handsy man. Or rather he’s a shameless perv – your words not his. 
Then again, it’s hard for Jean to deny that. He can’t help it, never with you, not with the body you have. Moreso, he loves touching you. 
The feel of your body, molding into his touch. The softness of your flesh, the roundness of your tits so fun to grope and pert nipples, too cute to not pinch. And then there’s that neck of yours, always adorned with a chain or necklace that calls his attention, a vampire that needs to sink his teeth into. He can’t forget those legs of yours. How they bend and stretch, looking so pretty wrapped around his waist and neck.
It's no secret, Jean loves to touch you in the most lewd ways. He calls it worship, you call it shameless. 
To-may-to, to-mah-to. Because despite your bravado, you enjoy being spoiled by him, fending him off with lighthearted attempts. 
But there is a line that you’ve been forced to draw, one that Jean crosses again and again and again. 
It’s just not fair, he thinks. Of course, he’s more than thrilled to have you in any way that he can, but he wants to draw his own line that crosses over yours. Because pray tell, why it’s such an issue that Jean, more than anything else, fucking loves to finger you. 
After you had swatted his hand away for the nth time during a dinner date, you demanded to know why he wanted to finger you constantly. 
It was the first time, Jean had to think about it. There’s just something so naughty about sneaking his hand where it shouldn’t go. It’s perverted, he acknowledges that, and that’s what makes it the most fun. Something everyone’s taught— keep your hands to yourself. Jean likes doing the opposite with you. 
The feel of your pussy pulsing around his digits, walls clamping down on his knuckles, it makes Jean delirious.
Jean’s a glutton for every single response you make. From the various ways you utter his name. 
With a surprised gasp, “Jean!”
An annoyed, click of your tongue. “Jean…”
A hushed tone. “Jean.”
When you’re cumming on his fingers, moaning out, “Jean!”
Annoyed, worried, aroused, Jean loved every bit of it. Seeing your face screwed with pleasure despite bad timing (again your words. There’s no such thing as bad timing for him), nothing you could say or do would deter him from not fingering you. 
The cycle never ends. He slides a hand up your skirt or dips his fingers into your jeans, and his touch makes itself at home in your wet pussy, all while you try to bat him away.
Today is no different. At a party with close friends, Jean had been extra touchy-feely with you, forecasting his habit. He managed to stave off for a few hours as you mingled with others, while he gave you some space only to resurface like an overactive puppy in desperate need of a walk. 
But midway through, he snatched you up the stairs and into Connie’s bedroom, hands lifting the end of your dress. 
You smack his chest. “Jean – no! Bad!”
He snorts, dropping his hands in feigned innocence. “Baby, I’m not a dog.”
“Yes, yes, you are. We’re at a party, just cool it for tonight or else.”
He dug his hands into his pockets, but you keep a close eye on them. “What do you mean or else?” His voice drips with curiosity, wiping away his impish grin. 
“Or else, no touching for a while. No sex.” Jean’s mouth drops, but you cut him off. “I’m not messing around. You can’t just finger me with other people around.”
“Why can’t I finger you here then?” He sways on his heels, looking around to indicate how it’s empty. “I was on my best behavior. Didn’t slip my hand up your dress once tonight.”
You scoff, folding your arms. “No, but you were very touchy. Didn’t you hear Sasha tell us to get a hotel?”
He steps forward, hands still buried in his pockets. He’s being cautious, you can tell because you step back. “What’s wrong with wanting to touch my girlfriend?”
You clench your jaw to stop you from repeating the same thing. It’s a strategy that has worn you down in the past. Jean will beg, ‘but why not?’ on loop, using that charming smile of his to pepper kisses along your face, and your vestige would melt every time. 
No, you tell yourself, watching him closely, ready to grab his hands when they leave his pockets. 
He looms closer, gaze spilling onto your face. “I just want to touch you. I mean, look at you.” Light brown eyes rake you up and down. “You deserve an orgasm looking that good. Are you saying you don’t want one?”
It’s not fair how weak you are to the look he gives you. And the simple words of wanting to spoil you twists in your mind and curls down to your stomach, lighting that familiar spark. 
No. You need to stand firm. This is good for the both of you. “It’s not going to work this time.”
“But – ”
“Uh-uh.” You shake your head. “It was cute the first couple of times, but I’m drawing a line.”
He pouts, a plea in his eyes. 
You avert his gaze, unable to trust yourself, and it takes more restraint when Jean steps closer, kissing your hairline. 
“Let me make you feel good. I just want my baby to relax.” He trails his lips to your forehead, down your nose in an innocent gesture, then finds your jaw. “C’mon. Say yes.”
You bite back a mewl, conflict only making you warmer. No matter how many times he’s touched you, Jean leaves you spellbound like the first time you met. 
“Say yes…” he purrs into your lips. 
The words steep into your mind, so close to reaching your tongue. But you catch the sound of others walking by, reminded of where you are. You blink, taking stock of the bedroom. Jean, however, doesn’t care about any of that, kissing the corner of your mouth. 
“Jean…”
“Uh-huh…” His voice trails towards victory. 
“Not here.”
He pulls back, throwing his head back with a deep sigh, a look of defeat. You bristle with regret, yet stunned that Jean actually relented. 
He lowers his head, a glimmer flashing in his gaze that sends a shudder down your spine. 
It’s too late to stop his hands; they’ve freed themselves from his pockets and grab hold of your hips. You expect to be thrown on the bed, only for the floor to jostle in your sights. 
Jean holds you securely over his shoulder, hooking an arm along the back of your knees. The other is on the move, lifting your dress and pulling your underwear off. 
“Jean – ” You wriggle, though afraid you’ll fall. 
Jean’s too strong to let that happen, even more determined to keep you in his clutches. Your panties are slipped past your ankles and tossed somewhere you can’t see. He pats your bare ass, giving the side a kiss. 
Without preamble, you feel the drag of his finger along your slit, whining out. 
“You’re soaking. You see, you just need an orgasm.” Jean’s tone is shadowed with lust. 
“Jean, wait – ” you gasp, unable to negotiate, cut off with the push of two fingers. Your pussy flutters, stretching with a sting that sculpts around his knuckles. “Ah –”
“I’ll make you feel good.” Jean’s fingers pump into you deeply, the pad of his thumb reaching for your clit. 
“Ah – ah – ” You’re already so dizzy, melting like clay at Jean’s deft fingers. It’s a first to be finger-fucked like this, but he’s skillful as always, you can’t blame this man for wanting to finger you. He’s a master at it. “Jean—”
He hums, pulling back his fingers until the tips tease your entrance. You miss the fullness of his touch already and you wriggle again, clutching onto the back of his shirt. “I’ll keep going, only if you say you love being fingered by me.”
You whimper, finding a way to grind down onto his fingers in the position you’re in. It feels impossible, only reaching the brush of his fingertips. 
“Say it,” Jean says, pressing onto your clit. “Say, ‘I love it when you finger me’.”
You don’t know what it is about this time that hits different. On his lap, on your back, on your feet, Jean never fails to make you come undone on his hand. But over his shoulder, reliant on his hold, your stomach burns, your pussy dripping. 
“Say it,” Jean repeats. “I want to touch you bad. But I want you tell me that you love getting fingered by me.”
You feel one finger plunge inside, nowhere near enough. “Jean, please, finger me.”
“Gladly, but that’s not what I want to hear. C’mon, don’t be stubborn. We don’t have all night. The party’s going to end in an hour, and Connie will need his bedroom at some point. Of course, I can always tell him that we’re busy.”
You scoff but it’s strained. Doing a sweep of your surroundings, you’re dizzy, voice lost.
“C’mon. You can do it. Just tell me you like how I finger you…” 
You moan at the press of his fingertips teasing your hole. The moment drags out and you ache for reprieve. “I – I love – when you finger me – ”
“That’s my girl.” Triumph laces Jean’s murmur and he rewards you with three fingers, thrusting into you while his thumb rubs at your center. “You deserve an orgasm now.”
Your fingers claw Jean’s shirt, toes-curling as you’re struck with ecstasy. You moan out, wrinkling Jean’s shirt to stabilize you. 
The moment passes, a crashing of a wave returning to the sleepy ocean. You fall limp, boneless and satisfied. 
Jean slides you to your feet, keeping you steady. You peer up behind a lidded gaze, gratitude in your smile. 
He strokes your face, taking his soaked fingers in his mouth. “I could finger-fuck you every second of every day.”
You smile weakly, leaning into his chest. The moment is short-lived. Your back sinks into the mattress with Jean crawling over your body, prying your thighs apart. 
You give him a dumbfounded look, slow to realize what he’s already had in store. 
He cups your pussy, teasing your entrance again. He flits a look up, mischief caught in his eyes. “Give me another one and I’ll keep my hands to myself for the rest of the night.” You’re too weak to argue, already bucking your hips at the renewed pleasure Jean pumps into you. His words evade you, as you and Jean both know that keeping his hands off you is a false promise. You swallow your pride, because he's not wrong, you wouldn't dream of him keeping his hands off you.
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siplick · 3 months
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Late night letter
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mochinomnoms · 2 months
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When you posted about twst not having the same foods it made my brain go... "what if their bf really tried to recreate the food based on description only"
Imagine Azul toiling away in the kitchen trying to re-create Bugals from scratch
Jade testing out different combinations of potions to recreate coca cola
Floyd trying to make the grandma candy that taste like strawberries
Jamil fighting with spices to make hot cheetos
Trey baking Twinkees and oatmeal cream pies
Lilia trying to make Macdonald fries but just creating poison
They all understand how food can help with homesickness and they want to do everything they can to help, even if it is trying to make something they have never had before
The ultimate love language is devoting time, money, and materials to recreated your lover's favorite foods. In our world, this could be going to your partner's parents or grandparents to learn their family recipe for a dish, cookie, drink, etc. Or it could be trying to look up a dish that they had growing up, but can't remember. Or maybe it's a cultural dish from their home country that they loved but haven't been able to have because the ingredients are available nearby. Painstakingly measuring, making, tasting, failing and failing over and over again to get it just right. Love is the ultimate love language.
So I think it's beautiful to imagine Azul trying to recreate your favorite dish based solely how you described how it looked, smelled, and tasted. Making the lounge's kitchen a mess until he can get it just right.
Trey calling his parents to describe the sweet treats and cookies you described. They're digging through their recipes so that he can combine and take what he needs to recreate them.
Jade has full confidence in his potion making skills, yet is dumped when you can only describe your favorite soda as "sugary and fizzy." He racks his brain over and over, taste testing the concoctions himself until he's positive they won't poison you, then bringing you into his little sessions to remake your favorite soda together.
Jamil, familiar with some spices and chilies you describe, but the others sound so otherworldly, messing around with the ingredients he's familiar with to make your favorite foods and snacks. He knows they'll never be the same, but that he they are good enough for you to want to stay.
Floyd is nothing if not determined. If he can't make you that candy you love so much, he's going into the ends of the earth to find you his world' equivalent. Don't question how he managed to get over a hundred different candies, some incredibly rare, others expensive as hell. His father has connections and money, it's nothing to spend on you.
And Lilia…well. He means well. It might be better to let him watch you make some of your favorite dishes, as well as you can when you're missing ingredients. He can watch and slowly start to understand, as you burn and hiss from the splattering oil, why food is a love language for humans too.
Food is a timeless love language. If it doesn't mean time and effort, it means money and sharing an experience that makes you happy. It's shared by nearly every culture, in your world and theirs, for a reason. Love is giving food when you're poor, love is the cuts and burns on your hands and arms, love is in the taste on your tongue, love is the smell you wake up to. Love is the effort, the time, the care. Love is food. And they love you.
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mochiwrites · 2 months
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couldn’t help writing a lil thing from @plumadot’s arts (linked here and here!)🥺👉👈 third life scarian possessed me so hard I broke out of my burn out for this reblogs would be really cool and awesome okaythankyou
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“And how are preparations for Doom Day going, my good sir?” Scar’s voice is a light sound behind him, tone cheerful and inquisitive all at once.
Grian turns around from where he’s knee deep in sand, a small hole dug out in front of him. Scar comes to stand beside him, red eyes staring down at him. His gaze is soft, far too soft for a man who’s meant to be anything but.
With a soft noise, Grian pushes himself up to stand while dusting off his hands. He leaves his shovel in the ground by the hole. His wings flutter.
He hums, surveying the area. He gazes at the holes of sand, where the tnt will be set down, at the place where a bunker will be built. “Not bad, I’d say. I think this place’ll be ready by tomorrow or some time ‘round then.”
Scar whistles, moving to casually wrap an arm around the green life’s shoulders. “Amayzin’!” His lips lift in a smile. “Man, those Dogwarts guys won’t know what hit ‘em!”
“That’s if this trap even works, Scar,” Grian mutters, unable to hold back the bitterness in his voice. His traps have hardly worked all game, and he’d be lying if he said he isn’t worried about this one failing too. “It has to,” he says, brows knitting together, “there’s too much riding on this one.”
His eyes trail over to Scar, who doesn’t seem to share his worries.
“Aw, c’mon G,” Scar starts as he pulls the other toward him. He tugs so that Grian’s facing him, their faces a few inches apart. Grian can feel how warm Scar is this close, can see the way his chest rises and falls. “I have total trust in you and your trapping skills. So relax a little, yeah?”
Grian frowns at him in turn. Speculation and trust aren’t good enough when up against his fail rate. He needs one hundred percent certainty. But he can’t just test this one. It’s a one time pull. “Scar—”
Careful fingers grab his chin, rough and calloused from the harsh conditions of the desert but still far too careful. Red names aren’t supposed to be careful or gentle, and yet here Scar is.
“I trust you,” Scar says again, and Grian doesn’t think this is how things are supposed to go. It’s not the first time he’s had this thought, and he’s sure it won’t be the last (provided they both survive this, that is). “You really do worry too much.”
“One of us has to while you’re off gallivanting around without a shirt on,” Grian grumbles while reaching for the edge of Scar’s cloak. He holds onto it, fingers digging into the fabric.
Scar lifts a playful brow at Grian’s comment, “Does that mean I look good while valligaggling?”
Grian snorts, the action laced with too much affection. “That’s not even a word, Scar,” he replies with a little laugh, one that makes Scar’s grin widen.
“It’s close enough,” the man hums in answer, their faces moving closer. His hand drops to Grian’s elbow, the other drawing him in closer by the waist. Red eyes flutter shut as his breath ghosts over Grian’s lips. “And it made you laugh.”
“Your priorities are seriously mixed up,” Grian’s voice is hardly above a whisper as watches as Scar draws in closer.
Their lips meet seconds later, chapped and warm. Grian stares at Scar’s face, the way the creases in his forehead smooth over and relax. He looks so content, a funny feeling to express when the powder keg is seconds from exploding.
It hardly takes any time at all for Scar to deepen the kiss, raising his hand from Grian’s elbow to hold the edge of his jaw. His thumb settles too close to Grian’s throat, yet not an ounce of fear runs through him. His eyes shut as he presses his lips back against Scar’s, a bit more pressure than the other applies. He catches Scar’s wrist in his hand, and his grip is a little tight at first (too tight for a green name). He has to remind himself to loosen his hand, but Scar never gives a reaction.
He simply angles Grian’s chin up slightly, hand shifting to cup his cheek. His fingers tangle in his hair, brushing against his ear.
It’s kind of a shame they’re blowing up the desert. He wouldn’t mind sharing more kisses with Scar out in the open chilly air like this.
Scar kisses him like he’s something fragile, something precious. He kisses him like he’s afraid of breaking him, and really it’s laughable how gentle he is with Grian. His eyes say he shouldn’t be.
(Ironic then, that Grian is wearing more red than him.)
It’s with a soft sigh that Scar pulls back, setting their foreheads against one another. So easily, so fluidly, he holds Grian’s face in both of his hands, one of his thumbs brushing along his cheek. There’s a fond smile on his face, and Grian feels a little dazed by the sight.
“Gri,” Scar says quietly, a moment shared for only the two of them, “I need you to know, I—”
Some kind of alarm rings in Grian’s head, and he knows he cannot let Scar finish that sentence. Panic runs down his spine like electricity, zapping him. He sets his hands on Scar’s front, gently pushing back as he turns his head away.
“H-Haha, we’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?” he questions, some kind of desperate attempt to change the conversation. “We have a war to prepare for, remember?”
He doesn’t watch Scar’s face as he turns away, unable to face it. He turns his back to Scar, wings twitching behind him. Grian purposefully looks down at the sand before him, reminding himself of what he’s meant to be doing. “We, uh, have much to do still,” he says, trying to focus on anything but Scar. “I mean, unless you want me to lose my first life!”
Grian goes to say more, but two hands land on his shoulders, stopping him. He jumps just slightly, startled. Yet it doesn’t last long as he feels Scar’s warmth against his back. “…Scar,” he mumbles.
Arms wrap around him proper, holding him close. He feels Scar bury his face in his hair as the smell of lilacs and poppies flood his senses. “Just a little longer, okay?” the red name murmurs so softly.
Let me hold you for a little longer.
Stay with me for a little longer.
Pretend this’ll last for a little longer.
How selfish, Scar is. Grian looks down at the sand below, its mocking grains. He grabs hold of Scar, keeping him right where he is. “…I’m not going to die, Scar.”
“Promise me.” Scar’s arms tighten around him, giving away how much he needs Grian to stay alive. How much he treasures Grian, both his partnership and company.
Grian squeezes him. He supposes he’s a little selfish as well. “…I promise.”
Scar lets out a shaky breath, burying his face further into Grian’s hair.
They don’t move for a little while. A gentle red name and a green name clothed in far too much crimson. Together they stand, selfishly.
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harunovella · 2 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse iv); s.g.
synopsis: you and gojo go on your first double date... or is it really? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo may have had a 'help I've fallen on your boobs and I can't get up' moment, bestie shoko, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! this one was sm fun to write, I love writing gojo and geto being nothing but idiots tbh... wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!
"A dinner? A fancy dinner?" Shoko asked as you nodded. "What's a bunch of sixteen year olds gonna do at a fancy dinner?" She raised a brow in confusion. Ever since being paired by Yaga with Shoko, the two of you have grown quite close. You were more than thankful, as much as you loved your own little trio (including Nanami and Haibara), it was nice to have a friend that wasn't... well, a male. 
Not that there was something wrong with that, you saw Nanami like a sort of twin—though you were a bit more on the social side—he got along with you the most. Then there was Haibara, who was an absolute sweetheart and a gem, the energy both you and your blond twin needed. However, seeing as Ieiri was your senior, there was quite a lot to learn from her—outside from the jujutsu world. 
There was also Geto and Gojo... Geto was an interesting person to be around. He had dark humor but also was nothing but kind to you. Gojo, on the other hand...
"A double date?!" Satoru exclaimed as he was alone with Suguru after you invited the two young men to the dinner you told Shoko about. 
Arching an eyebrow, Suguru crossed his arms. "Who said this is a double date? In your delusional world, you're dating our little junior when she only sees you as a friend—"
"That's a lie!" Gojo snapped, earning a snicker from his best friend. "I'll have you know we get along very well, we hangout a lot! And— and we have a lot of fun conversations!"
"Sounds fun," Geto said sarcastically. "We all know you're madly in love with her. However, we have no idea how she feels about you."
"Then explain the double date, huh?" Gojo was now the one to cross his arms, tapping his foot. "You and Shoko, me and my mochi?"
Sighing, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, not a double date. It's four friends going to a nice restaurant to support one of our friend's family members. Nothing more, nothing less," he explained, only for everything to go into one ear and out the other for the white haired boy before him. 
Satoru was in his own world, delusional as always, eyes sparkling at the thought of you in a cute dress. Heels or no heels, makeup or not, he just couldn't help but fantasize about how beautiful you were going to look tonight!
"Earth to Satoru?" Geto waved his hand in front of his best friend, only to laugh. "Thinking about how cute she'll look tonight, huh?"
"Yeah..." Gojo nodded, a face of pure ecstasy, as if he were about to drool. 
"Maybe I'll swap dates, you can have Shoko, I'll have our beautiful—"
"No!" Satoru shouted, instantly jumping Suguru. "She's my date for the night!"
"Good luck with that, if you look like an idiot right now thinking about her, just imagine you tonight!" Suguru laughed as he shoved Satoru off of him. "You're gonna look like a complete idiot!"
"You're not discreet..." Geto mumbled towards Gojo as the young man sat beside you, cheek pressed in the palm of his hand as he ever so casually gazed at you. You were in the middle of a conversation with Shoko, something about a movie you both recently had seen together. Too lost in your discussion, laughing and enjoying the evening as Suguru watched his best friend look like he was in a trance. "You are literally staring..." Furrowing his eyebrows as a look of slight disgust took over his face, Suguru kicked Satoru. 
"Shh," Gojo brushed off, kicking him back. 
"You're lucky she's in her own world with Shoko to even hear us," Geto kicked again, feeling his best friend constantly kick back. Gojo was too focused on you to even pay him any mind.
The restaurant, although fancy, was quite lively and practically filled to the brim. The reservations were endless and everyone that came and went looked like they came from money. Satoru and Suguru wore similar suits, solely because they bought them last minute and ended up with the same look (Satoru was NOT happy, but Suguru found it very funny). Shoko, after seeing them, called them tweedledee and tweedledum... You, on the other, found it cute. 
Cute... Gojo kept hearing your words echo in his head. You thought he, himself, was cute?! Forget Suguru, you said he was cute! He couldn't help but indulge in it as he gazed at you practically the whole dinner. For a split second, he did acknowledge the fact that you looked beyond gorgeous. In a white, fitted dress, hugging your curves with a sweetheart neckline... It was safe to say his mind was split in two. In particular, the two brain cells he had. Half of his mind was floating in the clouds of your compliment while the other half was focused on the top of your breasts (practically where his eyes kept falling to). He was... somewhat of a gentleman, he just couldn't help that dirty side of him. You were beautiful! He wanted you!
In his defense, he was used to seeing you in your uniform jacket, skirt, and tights... the times you weren't, you were always dressed cute and comfortable. Never had he seen you like this, curves and all. 
Reaching over the table and yanking on Gojo's hair, Geto stifled a laugh as his best friend snapped his head and growled. "Rude, I was busy!" He hissed, reaching over and tugging on the bangs that hung over the dark haired young man's forehead. 
Caught up with your conversation with Shoko (and not entirely hearing the commotion beside you with all the various voices around you in the restaurant) a sudden gasp left the brunette as she watched it all happen before her in slow motion. Gojo and Geto shoved one another, completely forgetting where they were as others nearby watched in confusion. 
From one second to the next, you were knocked off your chair, head thudding with the ground as a body collapsed against you. Various gasps and whispers were heard as you winced. Blinking a few times and trying to sit up, you felt a pressure against your chest. Both Shoko and Suguru (who was pulled to his feet by Shoko), stared at the disaster before them. Satoru, with his face planted against your chest, as you stared at him, wide eyed. 
"Satoru!" Shoko exclaimed, smacking his head as he lifted it, staring at you with a shared blush, before both of his friends yanked him up. 
"I— I am so sorry!" He exclaimed, reaching for your hand to help you up as you looked stunned. 
"God, you two are so immature. Before we get kicked out, take her home and I'll handle this," Shoko tsked as you blinked, only to snap out of your daze. 
"It's— It's okay! I'll handle this! I invited you all—"
"No, you hit your head hard, let me handle this. Dummie over here will take you," Shoko kicked Satoru's calf. "Go. Now."
Without second thinking his actions, Gojo took your hand and lead you out. Both of you ignored the displeased stares and gossip that spread over the four kids who "shouldn't have been allowed into a restaurant like this in the first place." 
Walking out, Satoru stopped in his tracks before turning to face you. "I'm so sorry about... my face being in your... Anyway, are you okay?" He asked, using his free hand to gently touch the back of your head. "There's no bump, but, are you alright?"
"I— It's okay, I'm not hurt," you swore as you nodded your head, looking up at him with your doe eyes. Gojo swore his heart grew two times its size. "I promise," you softly smiled. 
Nodding, a small smile grew on the young man's lips. He couldn't help but gaze at you, softness in his eyes as he kept his hand on the back of your head. Silence weaved its way between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable. You stood there for what felt like hours, looking at one another and nearly forgetting what you were doing or where you were. 
The sound of honking snapped the two of you out of it as you realized you were out in the open, with people walking by and cars driving along. 
Clearing his throat, Satoru lowered his hand from your head and kept his other in yours. "Let's get you home, yeah?"
tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)
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todomochi-uwu · 4 months
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Who. (4/?) J. Y & S. M
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Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi
Genre: Angst, Smut
Warnings: This content is for a mature audience
Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.
Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5
If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕
Green, blue and red lights light up the entire place, there´s so much noise you can barely hear Chan and Han over the music, and the smoke machines uncomfortably fill your lungs, but none of that is enough to keep your thoughts away from the ones your heart yearns for.
Yeah, the last couple of weeks had been better, you had stopped drowning in your tears and the insomnia that had accompanied you every night for the last weeks seemed to finally abandon your side, but their presence remained there, stuck to your head, leaching off your pain, as if it was determined to not let you forget. Were they okay? Had they moved on? Did they even care?
Your mind kept going back to simpler times, memories of what once had been the strongest relationship you had ever been in.
The bed was a mess, sheets ruffled next to the TV, clothes were scattered everywhere, pillows laid under your knees so you wouldn’t get hurt while you rode Mingi, hips moving up and down without rhythm, desperate to reach that sweet release, but every single time you were close Yunho grabbed your hips firmly stopping your movements.
“You are not allowed to cum baby, not until Mingi does first.” You tried to focus on the man in front of you, blush covering his cheeks, his mouth was barely opened, small moans and groans kept escaping out of his throat, eyes clouded with pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed every time you went down his cock, lips swollen and pink from all the kissing. Mingi was the most sinful image you had ever seen, and you were desperate to make him feel good.
“Please, please, Yunho, please let me cum.” You threw your head back, licking your lips, your knees were cramping, but stopping would be so much worse, “I’ve been a good girl.”
“No, I don’t care how good it feels, you are not allowed to cum.” His fingers traced a path down your body, caressing and massaging your neck, making their way through your breasts pinching your nipples and twisting them, next was your sternum, your stomach, till they finally ended in your core. Two of them framed Mingi’s cock while he was still inside you. “Come on, baby. You can do better than that, you are barely moving.” He took you by the chin with his other hand, straightening your view, “Don’t you want our Princess to feel good?”
Mingi’s eyes were covered in tears, his breathing heavy and his cheeks strawberry red, his hands grabbing your hips helping you move faster, “Please, love, please make me cum.” You couldn’t resist. No matter how much your thighs were crying, no matter how sore you’d be tomorrow, you were determined.
“Good job, baby. You are such a good girl.” Yunho whispered in your ear, while kissing your shoulders, leaving small bite marks on them.
And not so happy times.
Mingi’s phone was going crazy. Texts and calls from the office kept coming up, distracting him from the task he was currently performing. His head was in between your legs, his lips and tongue messily lapping up at your core, fingers hastily going and out of you; and physically he was there with you, mentally you knew he was only thinking about work. Your fiancé was usually so good at making you come with his mouth, but right now you barely even felt good, his tongue was not good enough knowing he wasn’t there with you.
“Mingi, please, they can wait for a little while.” You begged him, caressing his headlocks, trying to bring him back to you.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s just make this quick, I don’t want to piss off Jongho.” He was talking about it as if it was a chore, or another job, that did it for you.
You closed your legs and sat down immediately, pushing him away, “Never mind. Go and take care of whatever it is.” You put on your robe, leaving to go to the bathroom. He didn't even try to stop you.
There, you looked at yourself in the mirror, full-on makeup done, your hair styled and a set of lingerie (you had spent more than an hour trying to figure out how to put it on), you had outdone yourself so one of them would notice you, so one of them would want you like you wanted them, but of course, everything else was more important, more urgent. You felt your relationship hanging by a threat, and they had no clue.
.
You had been weak a couple of days ago, not being able to sleep, you decided to do something to appease the anxiety that had been running through your veins for hours.
“Hello?” A groggy voice responded from the other side.
You gulped down, already regretting your decision, “Hey, Hongjoong?”
You heard ruffling, and his voice got clearer, “Oh my god Y/n, is that you? Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. Um… listen, um…” You couldn’t bring yourself to ask, too scared of the way he might react.
“You want to know how they are doing, don't you?”
You stayed quiet, the lump in your throat made it impossible for anything to come out.
“Well, it took almost a week for us to know you had left, neither of them said anything until Jongho went to your apartment wanting to know why Mingi wasn’t answering his phone or showing up to work. But the first time I saw them they were a wreck, the house was a complete mess, both of them sleeping in different rooms, Yunho barely came home and Mingi wouldn’t leave it. They looked so sick I almost didn’t recognize them, pale, heavy eyebags, and the smell, ugh the smell.” He chuckled sadly, shaking his head at the thought, “I had never seen them like that.”
“You must hate me.” You whispered tears threatening to slip out of your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them, you were just so tired of that.
“At first, I was confused, I didn’t know what was happening or why, but they explained everything and I couldn’t blame you. I wasn’t happy to see them like that, but I knew you must not have been any better.”
“Yeah.”
“So, how’s Chan been?”
You stuttered not knowing what to say.
“Oh Y/n we’ve been friends since middle school, you think I wouldn't know? Hell, I don’t even know how it hasn’t crossed their mind, you always go back to Chan.”
“Nothing’s going on with him.”
“I never said it was.”
You pulled on the thin skin of your lips, tearing it apart, slowly the taste of iron covered your tongue; your heart was beating a thousand miles per second and you ran out of things to say. Hongjoong kept telling you about them, how things had been in their friend group, and everyone’s reactions, it didn’t do much to soothe your fragile muscle, but at least it was something.
“Sooner or later, you’ll have to face them, Y/n.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
.
A pair of fingers kept snapping in front of your face, Han called your name repeatedly, “Y/n, Y/n, oh my god Y/n,” Snap, snap, snap, “Jesus, Y/n snap out of it already.”
You shook your head, your eyes focusing on the cherry-checked boy. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about… work.”
His eyes narrowed, looking at you incredulously, “Yeah, sure, whatever you say babe. Chan went to the bar to get us some shots.”
“Great.”
“What's going on with you? An hour ago, you were so excited to go out, and now look at you.”
“It’s nothing Jisung…” He cut you off
“Oh, you can't fool me, Y/n. I know what you are thinking about, who you are thinking about. You need a distraction, something to help you move on.”
“Is not that easy.”
“I know, believe me I know, but maybe a little push will help you.”
“Help as in therapy?”
“Mmm, I was thinking for more like a good fuck.”
Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with shame, “Han, what the fuck?”
“Oh, as if you don’t miss getting dicked down, you went from two dicks to zero in a second, I can’t imagine being that starved.” He giggled taking a sip from his beer.
“I'm not having this conversation with you.” You pushed him away, shaking your head and laughing.
“Right, because you can tell me all about how Yunho’s dick is the biggest you’ve ever had or how Mingi’s head game is so good he almost made you pass out, but this is where you draw the line. Common Y/n, you are not doing anything wrong, you are a gorgeous, single woman, it’s only natural to get back into the game.”
A single woman. You haven’t been one in years. It felt so wrong to think of yourself as one, but it is what it is.
“How about Chan?”
You were taken back, not believing what came out of Jisung’s mouth. “You cannot be serious.”
“Why not? He’s hot, you guys used to do it all the time, it’s not like he’s a stranger.”
“Yeah, back in college, I haven’t looked at Chan in that way in years.”
“You are full of shit. You think I didn't see you back at his apartment? You were practically fucking him with your eyes, he looks good and you know it.”
  Your cheeks got impossibly red, making your muscles hurt, “I did not…”
“You did, and that’s okay. Give yourself a chance, love. You never know what might happen.
The thought of actually doing it crossed your mind, could you do it? Could you let yourself into another's arms while someone else was on your mind?
Chan appeared with two handfuls of shot glasses, walking slowly towards your table, “I think I might have overestimated how much we can drink.”
“Oh, this is nothing, remember how much we used to drink back then? I don’t remember half the parties I went to.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Besides, we are older Hannie, I don’t think we can do it.” You said looking at all the alcohol in front of you.
“We can always try.” He said taking his first shot.
____________________________________________
“Han is your husband.”
“Yes Jeong, you were at our wedding against my will. What about it?” Minho’s eyes stayed firm on the road.
“I just can’t help but wonder how such a pure, innocent and gentle soul ended up with the devil?”
Minho grinned, shaking his head, “I like to think we balance each other out.” The car took a turn, “But I could ask you the same thing, what is the human embodiment of a cupcake doing with Dr Jeong biggest asshole in the neurology department Yunho, and well, Mingi.”
“Well, for one I'm not always an asshole,” Yunho chuckled, “and the rest was pure luck I guess.”
“I think she’d beg to differ.” The cat-eyed doctor looked at him for the first time since the ride started, “What happened anyways?
An uncomfortable silence filled the car, Yunho sighed and let his head rest against the car window.
“I got too much into my head, and so did Mingi. Work was killing me, bills began piling up and I couldn’t do much, so I started working double shifts, taking small jobs here and there. Mingi’s clients needed lots of things at the same time, they lost a case, I don’t know, I guess everything got too hectic too quickly. We would leave early in the morning, I wouldn’t come home for days, and Mingi would arrive late at night. We both were so stressed but couldn’t do anything about it, it bottled up.” His voice was cracking up, barely able to continue, “We just never stopped, we never noticed how badly we were neglecting her until it was too late.” He paused, letting out a sob, “One day, I came home, just a quick stop to take a shower and say hi, the second I stepped foot I knew something was wrong. She had taken all her things; her ring was right on the bed.” He shut his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows, remembering the scene, “My whole world came crashing down, Minho. I have never felt so much pain.”
“Yeah, been there done that.”
“What?” Yunho looked at him confused.
“You aren’t the only one who’s a workaholic.” Minho took a deep breath, “Back in college things between Han and me were not so good, we were always fighting, always so hostile and short with each other. I’ll admit it was mostly my fault, school got worse each day, I was struggling to keep my scholarship, my job at the café, Jisung; competing against you the entire time didn’t help.”
“Hey, man you did that to yourself, I showed up the first day of school and I already had a rival, and I’ll admit I liked the competition until you started being a real asshole to me and till this day I have yet to know why you hate me so much. At first, I thought it was because I’m just a better doctor, but…” He said with humour before Lee cut him off.
“You are not a better doctor than me, you dick.” The older doctor said, “I was taking the piss when we were students, it used to motivate me, but I didn’t hate you because of that, I just didn’t like you, but I don’t hate you.”
“Because…”
Minho gulped, was it his place to say it? “Back then…”
“Back then when Chan and Y/n were a thing?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, confused and shocked, “Wait, you knew about it?”
“Oh, it was obvious, Chan hated us the second he met us, I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence, also your husband tends to spill out his brain when he’s drunk.”
“Yeah, that’s Jisung for you.” He said while shaking his head and smiling, the thought of his drunk husband warmed his heart. “I almost lost him back then. One day, in the middle of a discussion, he told me he was done with my bullshit, he was tired of me taking him for granted and never being there. In the beginning, I thought it was just another argument, and that things would go back to normal in a couple of days, but after a week I knew I was wrong. I felt like an idiot for waiting an entire week, he didn’t want to see me, I tried everything, and even Y/n hated me, it took me months to gain back his trust. There were times when I thought I was just too little, too late, that he would never take me back, and thank god he did, I don’t know what I would have done if he didn’t.”
“Is that why you are helping us?”
“I don’t like you, Yunho, that I’ll admit, but I know you are not a bad guy, neither is the other guy, and I know you love her. I get what’s like to lose yourself and everything you have, in a second.”
____________________________________________
Your hips swayed at the rhythm of the music, you let yourself go and try to forget. You deserve it. Jisung was next to you, dancing drunkenly, giggling and saying a bunch of random stuff you could barely understand. One second you saw him pointing at something behind him and the next one he was gone. You were left alone with Christopher.
“Are you having a good time?” He whispered in your ear, dangerously close to you. When had he gotten so close?
“Yeah, are you?”
“I think I had too many shots.” He giggled. Yeah, he was so drunk.
“Me too.” You laughed along.
You kept dancing next to each other, occasionally getting pushed by the rest of the crown on the dance floor, with every step you came closer, and before you knew it, your chest pressed against his. Slowly move your hips against each other, his hands grabbed your hips, and your head rested against his skin. You didn’t dare look up, you knew what would happen and you didn’t know if you were ready for that, or even if your head was in the right place for that; yet, you still had an itch for it.
And as if Chan was reading your mind, he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you look him straight in the eyes. So many moments and memories flood your mind, blurred scenes of your “relationship” back in college, could you go back to that?
His face came closer, and his lips whispered your name against yours. And once again, you let yourself go.
Everything happened so quickly, that your head could not register what was going on. A hand had grabbed yours, pulling you roughly, making you crash into someone, Chan looked upset and confused. You turned around and saw him, his eyes were furious, you could see his lips moving but didn't understand anything that was coming out of them. Those lips that you had been missing for months, those eyes that appeared in your dreams again and again.
“Yunho?”
____________________________________________
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mochirimochi · 6 months
Text
Somewhere Safe
William Afton X Reader
I wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit ok?
-This is now officially part 1 in a series!-
p1 ● p2 ● p3 ● p4
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You just need somewhere safe to hide from your abusive ex. Unfortunately for you, you're about to stumble into the arms of something much, much worse.
18+ Minors DNI.
~3700 words, no use of y/n
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cws: abusive relationships, degradation kink, breath play if you squint, smut, rough sex, EXTREMELY dubious concent, a sprinkle of spanking
You can also read on ao3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51567985
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Your arms shake as you push up the rusted steel door that separates the pizzeria from the outside world. Every clatter and rumble of the metal makes you flinch and sweep your eyes over the abandoned side lot. There shouldn’t be anyone out and about to catch you at this time of night, right? Regardless, your heart pounds as you force the heavy door up, inch by agonizing inch. As soon as you’ve made enough space for your body you toss your bag under and swiftly crouch to follow it. 
Breaking and entering is far from your typical Monday night activity, but circumstances have left you with little choice in the matter. You need somewhere you won’t be found, somewhere no one will think to look for you. A dilapidated former birthday attraction certainly fits the bill, you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned the place to your ex before and if you have he probably won’t remember anyways. 
You give the door a tug to close it behind you, flinching as it slams back down into the concrete, and pick your way through the broken glass of the entryway. The smell of mildew is heavy in the air, clawing at your lungs and making your eyes water. This place used to be so vibrant and full of joy once upon a time. You’ve attended many a birthday in the restaurant that stretches out in front of you, even had a few of your own. This place had always been a favorite of the local parents due to its… generous wine portions and the ability to outsource their children's supervision. As a result it had been a kids paradise, the ability to run wild while mom and dad got lost in the sauce on a Saturday afternoon? Few things could rival that sense of freedom for a kid. Ironic as it was considering what had come later, it had always been a place where you felt safe and happy. Maybe that was why you’d chosen the pizzeria when you needed to hide from your abusive boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now you suppose. It wasn’t like you had any plans to go back to the man after tonight. 
You give yourself a shake, attempting to bring yourself back to the moment at hand. This isn’t exactly the time to be spacing out after all, you’re technically committing a crime. Actually, there isn’t anything “technical” about it, you’re definitely breaking multiple laws right now. You shoulder your backpack and cast a glance toward the stage, it’s concealed behind a dusty red curtain but you can practically picture the animatronics behind it ready to jolt into song and dance just like they did years ago. You wonder if the owner removed them when he shut the place down. If you pull back the curtain will you find the shabby remains of your childhood heroes? You shiver, maybe it’s best not to find out.
If you remember correctly, the staff always entered and exited through a door next to the prize counter, maybe you’ll find a staff room with a couch through there. It seems like as promising an idea as any so you flick on your flashlight and make your way past the dining area and through the arcade. Sure enough, you’re greeted with a “staff only” sign and an unlocked door to boot. 
The hallway beyond is dark, lacking any of the color of the show floor. Interestingly, flickering yellow bulbs hang from the ceiling sporadically. The emergency power must still be on in this part of the building, you reason as you cautiously move through the hallway. You round a corner and let out a yelp as you collide with something huge, brown, and strangely soft. The impact knocks you off balance and you land rather gracelessly on your ass. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend what you’re looking at as your gaze travels upwards over pudgy brown legs and a round plush stomach.
“Fredbear?!” The exclamation comes out before you really have a chance to think. “How in the world did you get all the way over here?” Your heart, which has been about ready to leap out of your chest, slows as you take in the animatronic. It’s in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the rest of this place. You push yourself to your feet and take a few steps back. “I can’t believe they actually left you guys here, you’d think they’d have moved you. Poor guy, all this time stuck in this dingy old hallway.” 
It’s strange when you really think about it, who would leave him just standing in the bowels of the restaurant? It seems like an awfully strange place to just leave your star animatronic, rushed closure or not. After a moment, a distant memory of the animatronics being wired to wander through the pizzeria comes back to you, in fact now that you think about it you can remember getting a big warm hug or two from the Freddy animatronic. That would explain it, maybe his circuits got damaged over time and had triggered that unique function. 
“Sorry to bug you big guy, I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… needed somewhere safe.” Not for the first time that night you feel tears well in your eyes. “Nope, I am not going to cry over this. Not happening, you didn’t see me cry as a kid and you’re not gonna see it now.” You blink the tears away and the absurdity of your situation finally hits you. Not only are you hiding from your psycho ex and breaking the law for the first time in your life, but you’re also talking to a decrepit old robot like it can actually understand you. You heave a shaking sigh to ground yourself and pull your shoulders back. This might be your lowest moment but you refuse to let yourself wallow in it. With a determined huff you give Fredbear an affectionate pat on the arm before moving further into the building.
Before long you stumble across the staffroom, a long cluttered room with an extended plexi-glass window looking out into the hallway. Maybe at another time the window would serve to make the room feel brighter and bigger but now the dust covered plastic is shot through with a spider's web of cracks that barely allow you to see into the room. The door is unlocked though, and after a few quick shoves the warped wood releases its hold on the frame to allow you entry. Luckily, the room seems fairly well preserved and you spot a few dusty but intact couches pushed up against the wall. Jackpot. The exhaustion you’ve barely been keeping at bay all night hits you like a freight train and you lurch across the room to the couches. You collapse onto the nearest one, sending a fine cloud of dust into the air. You can’t bring yourself to care as you curled into a tight ball, finally letting sleep take you.
William watches the security cameras with curiosity as you wind your way through the building. Normally the animatronics would have taken care of any intruders well before they got to this point. This is new, novel even. He leans forward at his desk, squinting at the video feed in an attempt to get a better view. His jaw almost drops when you collapse onto the couch and fall still. Even through the grainy monitor he can tell that you’ve fallen asleep. What in the world is your deal? Who in their right mind would break into an abandoned establishment of dubious repute only to take a nap? He clasps his hands in thought as he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. This calls for a more… hands on investigation.
A tickling in your nose rouses you from your slumber and you begin to sneeze yourself awake with surprising force. You check your watch, barely 4 in the morning. You’ve only slept for an hour at most and exhaustion threatens to pull you back into sleep. It might too, if not for the insistent vibration of your phone in your pocket. You flip the cursed thing open without hitting the button to answer, bracing yourself for what you know you’ll see. 
Unsurprisingly, you’ve got 53 unread texts, 20 missed calls and 16 voicemails. You don’t need to check the contact info to know who they’re from. Against your better judgment you navigate to your sms messages and begin to read through the backlog when your phone finally stops buzzing. Some of the texts are pleading, others threatening. A few texts claim to “love you so much” and be “so fucking sorry”, while others rail at you “you fucking bitch” and “how dare you fucking run off like that?”. The messages paint a grim but unsurprising picture, a picture that’s unfortunately all too familiar. You raise your hand to the tender bruising that you know must be beginning to come to the surface on your neck before you navigate to your most recent voicemail. You flick on the speaker before staring into the green light of the screen. 
“Where the fuck are you, you fucking bitch?” You flinch as an angry voice fills the room. “You think you can fucking run away from me? You think you can fucking end shit? You’ve got another thing coming to you, used up fucking slut. The next time I lay eyes on you you’re fucking dead, you hear me? Run the fuck away from me again and see what happens. I’ll-” You don’t give the voicemail a chance to run its course. With a raw, frustrated scream you launch the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying clatter. The battery and casing skitter across the floor and the voicemail cuts out abruptly. Not satisfied with just cutting the bastard off you stomp across the room, still screaming, and smash your foot into the body of the phone. It gives with a satisfying crunch and you roar as you kick it for good measure, sending the now useless device across the room once again. All the fear and rage of the last few hours overcomes you and you let yourself scream until you run out of breath.
Suddenly a flash of something yellow through the hallway window catches your eye. You push your hair out of your face as you try to catch your breath, attempting to squint through the aged plexi-glass. A hulking, inhuman figure stands on the other side of the window, seeming to peer back at you. For a moment neither of you move, it seems to be taking you in as much as you’re taking it in. The strange standoff breaks when the figure, still indistinct through the dust and cracks in the glass, starts to move slowly and methodically towards the staffroom door.
Finally your brain springs into action. Shit. Whatever that is, it’s not good. You sweep your eyes frantically around the room, weighing your options. Any windows to the outside are boarded up, and the only door in or out is the one the massive yellow figure is making its way towards. The only viable option seems to be to take the defensive. There’s a tiny kitchenette against the wall, and you rush towards it in desperation. Frantically, you yank open the drawers in search of anything you might use to protect yourself. The best you can come up with is a wooden spoon. In another situation that might be laughable, but you can’t take a moment to consider how absurd you look brandishing a wooden spoon like a sword. The rattle of the doorknob tells you that you’re out of time.
Whatever you had expected to be on the other side of that door it certainly wasn’t a massive yellow rabbit suit. It’s huge, so large that it has to duck to get its ears under the door frame. As it tilts its head to take you in, your blood runs cold. You hold your ground as the thing stalks closer, its movements slow and deliberate as it moves towards you. 
In a moment of desperation you launch yourself forward, attempting to dodge around the looming figure and make a dash for freedom. You don’t have a chance. A pair of strong arms wrap roughly around your waist, jerking you back with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. Your makeshift weapon clatters to the floor. A dark chuckle rumbles from the depths of the suit as a hand drags its way from your waist and up your chest to grab your chin.
“What. Have. We. Here?” The voice that comes from the suit is deep, taunting, and undoubtedly mascuine. He punctuates the last word with a rough but controlled yank, pulling your chin up and your head back into his chest. You whimper as it strains your already aching neck. With your head tipped back you can see the yellow rabbit head looming above you and it tilts to the side again as if in curiosity. “I asked you a question.”
“I-I-...” You can barely get your mouth to move and you lick your lips in a desperate attempt to draw words from them. Your obvious fear draws a satisfied hum from the depths of the suit and the hand on your waist tightens noticeably. The hand on your jaw however, disappears. You pull in a shaky gasp and buck your head forward in an attempt to build up enough momentum to break free. The vice-like grip on your waist is unaffected and your captor grunts in amusement. 
A rustling above your head draws your attention and you look up to realize that the hand that had just been holding your jaw captive is running along the neck of the suit. With a single, deft movement the head of the suit comes off and your captors face is revealed. There’s an almost rugged handsomeness to his mature features, graying stubble covering his cheeks and eyes that in another life may have looked almost kind. The expression he’s peering down at you with now is anything but kind or gentle though. There’s a hunger there, and a barely suppressed rage. He places the head on a nearby table and returns his hand to your jaw. With agonizing languidness he leans forward and presses his lips to your ear.
“Who gave you permission to sleep in my restaurant?” 
You gasp as his stubble rasps against your jaw and his hot breath ghosts across your face. 
“I’m sorry. I just needed a place to stay. I’ll leave right now. I’ll-”
He cuts you off. “A place to stay, huh?” His lips are still brushing against your ear and despite yourself you feel a chill run down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that absolute delight of a man on the other side of the phone, would it?”
“He’ll kill me.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth you know they’re true. Honestly, you’re lucky to have survived him this long.
“Oh, little mouse, what makes you think I won’t?” The grip on your jaw releases for a moment and you hear something fall to the floor. When it returns it’s a very warm, very human hand that takes its place. His other hand briefly lets go to do the same and you can feel his nails digging into your flesh as he presses you against him. 
“Please.” It’s barely more than a whimper as the hand at your jaw dips to circle your neck. “I just needed somewhere safe.”
“And you chose here? Bad luck.” He presses his nose to your jaw and draws in a deep, ragged breath. “But you know, we might be able to work something out.” The hand at your waist begins to travel, burrowing its way under the hem of your shirt before splaying wide across your stomach. His long fingers barely brush the underside of your bra but you feel the heat of them as if there’s no fabric to separate you. “I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you put out in the cold.”
“Anything.”
William can barely contain himself. The feeling of your trembling body in his arms is oh so delicious and your intoxicating scent floods his nose, every breath sending a thrill through him. You’re so soft, so malleable, so utterly breakable. It’s brilliant. 
Using one hand to keep you pinned against him he uses the other to work his way out of the suit with practiced skill. Initially he’d just wanted to watch you, figure out the enigma that was your survival after breaking into his restaurant. Normally people don’t last for more than a few minutes. But you’d dithered around, chatted up his ace in the hole, and then taken a nap? He couldn’t contain his curiosity.
The phone call had derailed his plan and given him an idea. Sure, he had planned on killing you once he’d solved your mystery but maybe there were other things you could be useful for. There was something captivating about you, and the perfect leverage had just fallen straight into his lap. 
He makes quick work of the suit, and soon he’s reveling in the feeling of your body against his. 
“Anything?” He asks, stroking his thumb gently over your jugular before giving your throat a controlled squeeze. Your startled gasp is almost enough to send him reeling. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little mouse.”
This is wrong. Everything about this situation is wrong.
And yet, your body seems to have some of its wires crossed because it is not getting the message. The only thing you should be feeling right now is fear, and sure, there’s a very healthy dose of that tying your guts in knots but beyond that there’s an underlying current of heat. None of what’s happening should be causing your core to tighten, and the goose bumps forming on your neck should be from terror.
But they’re not.
His hand drifts up even further, pushing your bra up and out of the way to capture the smooth skin of your breast in his hand. You can’t help it, you roll your hips back into his, pushing against the hardness that’s growing there at an almost alarming pace. He growls behind you, pulling you even closer to grind against your ass.
“So that’s how it is?” His voice in your ear is even deeper now, heavy with lust as he gives your breast a hard squeeze. Even you’re surprised when you let out a wanton moan. “Imagine such a dirty fucking slut falling right into my lap.” His words have you clenching around nothing and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel conflicted about your body's reaction. He releases your breast and his hand burns a trail down to the top of your jeans, he flicks the button open with ease and slowly undoes your zipper. Then he stops, his hand ghosts over the crotch of your jeans before it stills. You let out a needy whimper that you barely recognize as your voice.
“Beg for it, little mouse.”
You groan, canting your hips forward in a desperate search for pressure. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, fuck me.”
His control seems to snap and he spins you around before shoving you across the room and face down into the couch, barely giving you time to yelp in surprise. He pulls your hips into the air before yanking down your jeans and panties in one harsh motion. The animalistic groan that escapes him at the sight of your dripping pussy sends a shock of arousal through you. He grabs a globe of your ass in each hand, digging his fingers in so hard that you gasp. His nails bite in deep enough that you’re sure they’ll draw blood. 
“God, look at you.” He grunts, releasing your ass and stepping back as if to admire the view. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle and wiggle in anticipation. “What a fucking freak you are, so fucking wet and ready for a strange man in an abandoned building.” He lifts his hand and lands a stinging blow on your ass. You flinch and yelp at the unexpected pain and he does it again on the other cheek. “Dirty slut.” The sting brings tears to your eyes, but it also causes your arousal to coil even tighter in your abdomen. 
Suddenly and without warning he grabs your hips and slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. You scream as he stretches you, your channel burning around his thick cock. “Take it.” He grunts, slamming into you. All you can do is whimper in response as he sets a punishing pace, thrusting into you again and again. The burn eventually melts into a building and rising heat that threatens to sweep you away. 
Your scalp stings as he tangles his fist in your hair and yanks your head back, changing the angle so that he drives impossibly deeper into you with every stroke. Any train of thought you may have been able to carry is lost as he bombards you with pleasure. Your eyes roll back as your hands desperately grip the couch cushions. A few more thrusts and you’re coming undone, screaming out your release. He follows close behind you, letting go of your hair to grab your hips again. His fingers bite into you as he pulls you back against him, trapping you to him as he fills you. 
“Fuck.” He grunts, his voice raw and his hands trembling at your hips. You both still for a moment and your brain finally starts to realize what you’ve just done. But in the throbbing, warm throes of your afterglow you can’t seem to bring yourself to care how truly fucked up this situation is. When he finally releases his vice-like grip on your hips you groan at the loss of contact.
The chuckle that he gives is warmer than any of the others so far, and he gives your ass a final squeeze that you could almost consider affectionate before he steps away.
“Yes, I think we’ve come to a satisfying agreement.”
-----
I don't know what came over me last night, but this was the result. I've never written smut before, but I sure have read a lot so hopefully it's enjoyable.
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mochiroreo · 2 months
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And I will fuck you like nothing matters
Dark!reader x Rafe Cameron
TW: M18+ NON-CON, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, implied heavy smut at the end, degradation, non-consensual use of drugs, mentions of rape and domestic violence, mean!rafe, psycho!dark!reader, non-consensual recording (sorry not sorry rafe lol)
Author’s note: I am back just to post this blurb cause I love dark!Rafe but I also want to read something about the reader being the unhinged, pyscho one 🤭 . Also, this is unedited so if you see some wrong grammar or wrong spelling.. no you didn’t.
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“Hmm..” a dull, throbbing pain made him tightly closed his eyes. His body feeling heavy and sluggish. He felt like he slept in a wrong position for two days, with how his muscles are aching. He was about to stretch and move his arms when he felt a tug that restricted his movements.
“Wait.. wha—?” The sensation made Rafe open his eyes, his baby blues scanning the room in utter confusion. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light, looking up at his wrists tied together above him, and his legs tied to the bed frame. “What the fuck..?” He mumbled in a slurred manner, his baby blues darting around the room before feeling the bed dipped beside him.
“Oh, you’re awake!”
Rafe immediately looked up, his breath slightly hitching with how close your face is.
“A-angel?” He whispered his nickname for you, confusion more evident on his face now with his brows scrunched up. “How— why—“ Rafe’s questions were cut off by your giggle, airy and as if the whole situation is amusing, making his jaw tick in irritation.
For him, maybe it’s not as amusing. For you, however, it is definitely the highlight of your life.
“What are you doing? You think this is funny?” He asked, voice low and threatening, as if he is not the one tied down tightly on your bed right now. You just looked at him with a soft smile, a soft hand landing on his forehead to smooth the creases between his eyebrows before affectionately running your hand through his buzzed hair.
“Oh no, Rafey. I just think this suits you..” you words hanged onto the air, making him anticipate what’s next. “After all, isn’t this what you had planned for me? I just switched up who will be the victim.” You answered, ignoring the slight widening of his eyes with your answer.
His heart was thumping loudly inside his chest now, feeling the rope’s roughness that bound both his wrists and ankles. “W-what? I don’t— I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” Rafe looked straight into your eyes, trying to convince you. Yet your smile sent a chill down his spine.
“What do you mean? I know your plan silly!” You giggled, biting your bottom lip which made the boy gulp. “I am very much aware of the Kook king’s personal life and the rumours surrounding you, you know. The rape allegations at the parties after slipping some drugs on their drinks. Or maybe asking them to drink a bit too much. I have also heard how much you have punched and kicked your previous girlfriends.. lucky that your daddy knows how to bail you out!”
Your eyes travelled down Rafe’s disheveled state, the buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing a slither of tan skin underneath. His taut muscles evident as he squirms to move. While you were distracted, Rafe tried to free himself, struggling as the rope got tighter and tighter the more he tried to escape.
“Where was I? Oh! And so— I have heard from Topper how it’s now my “time” apparently. Then there you were! In front of my house, asking me to drink with you cause you were feeling lonely. I knew you slipped a drug on my drink,, so I have beat you to it and knocked you out.” You admitted with a shrug, moving away to stand up while still watching Rafe closely.
“You’re fucking crazy. I-I didn’t even— wasn’t planning to do anything!” Rafe tried to reason out, gritting his teeth when the rope wouldn’t budge.
“Really? Cause the rope that I used was from the back of your truck. I even found some little baggies.” You inserted your hand inside your bra, the action making Rafe stare straight to your chest and take in what you are wearing.
You wore white lacy set of lingerie, hugging the swell of your breasts and thighs, accentuating every dips and curves as if you were carves by the gods to look like a literal angel on earth.
Except, you are holding every variety of drugs that Rafe owns with a big smile.
Each bag has some different sized pills and powders, which you were sure were party drugs and coke from his drug dealer best friend, Barry.
“Now come on, Angel. Don’t you know that you shouldn’t touch what’s not yours? You don’t even know shit about drugs or-or how expensive those are!” He groaned, unable to do anything. Rafe is at his limit, his patience running thin as he think of the things he will do once he breaks free from the ropes, promising to himself that he will definitely fuck you to the point that you’ll beg him to stop plowing your abused cunt. Your appearance and his imagination making his thick cock hard despite his anger.
“Hmm.. I know which drugs is which. I think I stalked you enough to know which one is your favourite other than coke.” Moving closer, you brushed your hair away from your face. “And to be honest. I thought you would have more.” You grabbed a bottle of water on the bedside table before straddling Rafe’s chest.
The action made Rafe’s shorts tighter with how painfully hard he is, his point of view accentuating your breasts, seeing your nipples perky from the cold air inside the room. Once again, he struggled with the intention of trying to free himself to grab you and slap the shit out of you while drilling his cock to your wet pussy, he gritted his teeth and whispered menacingly.
“Now now, Angel. We can do this without the rope.. you know? If I have known you were a little freaky.. I would have asked you properly instead of what I was planning to do.” His words made chuckle, raking your manicured nails on his chest, making him let out a low groan.
“But where’s the fun in that?! Besides it would be unfair to just let you do that.. knowing how much you’ve been a bad boy here in Outer banks..” leaning forward, you balanced yourself and gripped his arms, slightly rutting your clothed core on his stomach. The action made Rafe groan, his anger disappearing as he thinks that you are just a closeted little freak that is now removing your disguise to fuck him. Rafe’s hips were bucking slightly, loving the hazy look in your eyes as he lets you to revel on the power you have over him right now.
“This is exciting, but I want to make it wayyy more pleasurable for us two.” Dragging your tongue on his collarbone, you moved away to grab one of the baggies containing some neon pink and green pills making Rafe eye you suspiciouslly. As far as he remember, he did not order some odd looking pills from Barry.
Grinning at him like the devil, you took two from the bag before going back to your position, your left hand tracing the bottom of his lips as you bite your own. Rafe’s lips parted, his pink tongue slightly peeking, urging you to lean down and finally kiss him.
The kiss was hot and messy, and Rafe kissed you like a man starved. His tongue immediately invading your mouth, savouring the slight dominance that he has knowing that he cannot escape your bed to flip you over. Rafe was so into the kiss that he did not feel both of your hands wrap around his neck.
Your hands were getting tighter and tighter, making him pull back with wide eyes that is staring right straight to your in panic.
“A-angel— hey hey..!” He tried to fully scream at you, nails slowly digging into the flesh of his neck. Rafe was slowly running out of air, his vision swimming in the dark while looking at you smiling so gently to him as if you aren’t choking him to death right now. His lips parted in a silent scream, before you let go to forcefully shove the pills down his throat which almost made him puke.
You let go once the pills were stuck down his throat, Rafe immediately heaving and gasping for air, making the pills slide down with his spit. He didn’t waste any time to steady his breathing, immediately screaming at your face.
“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH, I WILL FUCKING RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND YOUR FUCKING PUSSY IF I GET OUT OF HERE! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” His neck was red, veins popping out from him screaming directly on your face. You faked a sniffle, eyes slightly watering before you broke into a laugh.
“Woah calm down, pretty boy!” You managed to squeeze out as you continue to laugh, making Rafe jolt with the want to punch you down and force himself on you. “I just want to make sure you drink the pill candy without a fight.” You stated, offering a water bottle pointed at his lips. His breathing was erratic with anger, nudging the bottle away from his face before it dawned on him.
“Fuck—“ he mumbled. “What the fuck are those pills?!” You just shrugged, shaking your head as you so. “I have enough of your bitchy brat games, you fucking psycho! What the fuck are those pills!” Wiping down the spit that landed on your chest, you sighed giving him a faux pout.
“It’s just something to relax you.. and maybe give you more strength as I use you the whole night?” As if on cue, his cock that went soft with the stunt that you pulled suddenly hardened, blood immediately rushing down south. Rafe’s body slowly started to feel hot, he feels so lightheaded that his eyelids were almost closing on him while he tries not to pant and control his breathing. “Shit shit shit” he mumbled in panic, mind swimming with all the possibilities what the pill might be and what it might do to him.
You cut his thoughts short when you swiftly undressed him, his eyes wide and watery as you blow air on his clothed cock that was immediately weeping before letting it spring free. You thumbed the continuous flow of his pre-cum, making him buck his hips for more. Your touch was cold on his burning skin, a soft whine passing by his lips when you gave his leaking tip one kitten lick.
“Fuck please— what— what did you do to me..?” Rafe whispered softly, slowly losing his mind with the need and desire to feel your mouth, cunt, or your ass on his dick that is now standing proudly against his stomach.
“Nothing really. I told you I’ll make sure to make this more pleasurable for us, didn’t I? Must have been frustrating to be on the receiving end, huh?” Straddling his waist, you move your lacy panties aside to rut it on his cock, his pre-cum making it slide easier on your sopping wet pussy. You continued your actions, ignoring Rafe’s please to let him put his cock in you.
“You know.. I’ve heard how much you wanted me.. how much you think you can ruin me, to manipulate me into your ‘slut’. But I don’t want to be one of those girls that you took advantage of, Rafey. I want to be special, I want something more.” Your body was slowly getting covered with a light sheen of sweat, lips so close besides Rafe’s ear as you lick and tease his ear lobe. Soft whines and gasps escaping your lips before smirking as Rafe tried his best to listen to you despite him slowly losing his mind.
“So I decided to just show you, decided that maybe I’m the one that can break you..” Rafe lets out a deep strangled cry as he cums, body vibrating with the intensity of his ejaculation while he shut his eyes close. “Oh my, you just cummed but you’re still hard, Rafey!” Your statement made Rafe open his eyes weakly, vision slightly blurry with unshed tears, his cock more sensitive that ever.
Your left hand encircled his thick shaft, slowly dragging your palm up and down, making Rafe choked out a sob “‘s too much— please— fuck— ‘s too much” Rafe rambled, making you stop playing with his cock; giving him soft kisses on his cheeks, kissing his tears away. “Oh shush, don’t cry Rafey. I will make you feel good, make you feel so so good.” You whispered against his flushed skin, licking the lone tear that slid down while you console him.
You grabbed the water bottle and popped a pill on your tongue, Rafe watching you with blown out, unfocused eyes. “See? I took one as well!” You stated, slowly getting rid of your lingerie which made Rafe’s cock bob up and down, pre-cum once again leaking out of him despite coming just seconds ago.
“Gonna show you how special I can be, Rafey.” Whispering on his skin while you trail wet kissed down his chest, Rafe sobbed when you lightly bit his nipple, the action making him cum once again. You felt his warm load spatter on your ass, making you giggle.
“ ‘m gonna show you how I can make you feel like a god.” You eyed his drowsy state, drool sloppily pooling on the side of his mouth. Lightly tapping his cheeks, he opened his eyes before you pointed at the red dot on the corner of your room, which he eyed for a moment.
“Don’t forget to smile.”
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shih-na · 3 months
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"There can only be one"
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agentc0rn · 3 months
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What Pecharunt Teaches Us about Love
Ok the title sounds funny but, I just find something about Pecharunt so interesting and a bit tragic.
Pecharunt's expression of "love" is gift-giving; it showers the old couple with materials. To it, love is conditional and takes form in objects, or gifts to simply put. In order to be loved, it needs to grant the wishes of the couple. Love in a way can be transactional (gift-giving), but usually we understand that when you love someone, you don't really expect to have anything in return when giving them something.
It’s one thing to gift someone. Humans have done that all the time. But does love not always have to mean about the objects. Love is about the thoughts, the words, the time spent together, the memories, going through rough moments together, the actions other than gift-giving (hugging, singing, playing, talking, etc.). And the story mentions that the couple took care of Pecharunt, so there must have been moments where the couple genuinely cared for it without its influence.
Pecharunt's action distorts the goodness of love, which parallels the professor - their obsessions diverted them away from taking care of Arven. Their own selfishness conflated with their works of expressing love. Ironic, isn't it. (Disclaimer: love has different forms, but in this analysis, I am focusing on familial love and love in general).
We have a child who may have been spoiled rotten, but nevertheless loved and taken well by the parents, who wishes for their love and does fulfill their wishes, but in questionable ways that caused it to be separated from the couple by its own actions. We have a parent who works hard to make their dreams (their own childish dream with their dream of living with their son) come true, but at the cost of spending time with their son. Both depart from their loved ones to achieve a goal that would become reality for some time, but their efforts still end up in vain and would never make up the lost time that could have been spent with their loved ones.
Is it still really genuine love if you use questionable means to achieve so? Yes and no. The motivations behind the actions or methods can be truly love and well-intentioned, but can be still be morally wrong. Love is an interesting thing; it is a good thing that can be used for the wrong things.
Pecharunt's use of power (be it unknowingly or not is a different story) to influence in fulfilling both the couple's and its own desire - seems paradoxical - Pecharunt wants to be loved, so it gives more and more- it seems innocent/harmless yet selfish because it wants more despite being already loved.
It would be neat if we could go to the crystal pool, have Terapagos out again, summon the mist, and meet both or either one: the couple and the old man. On one side, the couple meets Pecharunt again, and tells it (this couple is from the timeline where Pecharunt has been gone for a long time), that they realized they never needed the mask, all they ever wanted was Pecharunt and for it to be happy.
On the other hand, Ogerpon meets the man again (obv before he got presumably killed), and we get to talk to him for some time. He thanks us for taking care of Ogerpon what not.
Treasure the moments, not just the materials. Because the materials can only mean so much if you forget about the memories you've created with others.
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mochimooon · 5 months
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DTF Only (Super Like) - levi ackerman x reader 18+
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pairing: Levi Ackerman x afab! Reader summary: You were supposed to take a break and spend Saturday evening alone, until an elusive match arrives at your door. word count: 5k+ notes: Eighth and final part of DTF Only. I'm sure ya'll already know what happens here. warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, praise kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fluff ☻ masterpost☻
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!
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The week had been a fun ride. 
Explore, experience, experiment. Tinder was your gateway for all three, giving you the chance to try things you’ve always wanted to try, and discover ideas that stroked a carnal fix you suppressed for years.
It was liberating, it boosted your self-confidence, and it was a much-needed distraction. The scrolling, the messages, the attention, the hook-ups were all fun…until they weren’t anymore. 
By Saturday night, you’re burnt out, body aching, and overall bored of Tinder. You should have seen this coming. 
Or maybe you should have spaced them out more, but everything is trial and error. It’s something to consider if you decide to dive back into the dating pool.   There was just something lacking in Tinder; something that left you unfulfilled. But you were clueless as to what.
For now, you couldn’t care less to ponder. All you wanted to do was soak in a bubble bath and veg out on your couch to enjoy the peace and silence of your own space.
And after you got dressed in your PJs, that’s when it hits you. This is the first time since the breakup that you have been entirely alone. 
No dates, no girls’ night. Only you and your thoughts.
You wonder what Colt is up to right now. If he’s spending his Saturday with his friends, his brother, or if he’s out on dates too. 
You grab your phone from your nightstand, padding down the hall to the living room. You hadn’t touched your phone all day as you had left it on silent.
Checking the hidden messages, you ignore the new ones from the men earlier this week to tap on the last text exchange with Colt. 
It was from over a week ago, hours before he saw you to break up. 
Can we talk later today? 
You knew when you got that message. The ending had slowly played out before Colt made it official. You didn’t break down, you didn’t beg. You didn’t jump for joy either. You just listened and let it happen.   
With a sigh, Colt’s messages are swiped clean, and seconds later, his number is erased.  
Still, you don’t feel devastated. Though a part of you does mourn the end of the relationship, the end of a routine you had gotten too comfortable with. If you two were still together, he’d be over right now, either seated on the couch with his arm over you or having vanilla sex in your bedroom. 
It might not have been riveting, but you do miss the company, the complacency. And that’s why it’s for the best that you and Colt are no longer together. 
The doorbell chimes as you settle into the couch, phone replaced with the TV remote. 
You didn’t make plans with anyone tonight, and it’s a rare occasion to have a visitor arrive unannounced. 
Wrenching the door open, your neighbor, Levi, stands with a package in his hand. 
His eyes glance down momentarily, and you remember how tiny your PJ shorts are. “Not interrupting your night, am I?”
You shrug, tilting your head. “Nope. I haven’t seen you around in a few days.”
“Was out of town for business. Got back earlier, and thanks to jetlag, I’m just waking up. I stopped by the mailroom before it closed, and this was delivered to my box.”
Perplexed, you take the package with your first name printed on the label. Yet another unexpected surprise. 
“I’ll let you get back to your date night.” He motions to turn a heel. 
The laugh escapes you before you can stop it, and Levi turns back with a raised brow. “No date night, not anymore. We…broke up.”
Because he lives next door, it made sense that Levi was privy to your relationship, even to a degree, considering you’d have Colt over a lot. 
Levi hums, impassive as he usually is. “That’s rough. Sorry to hear.”
Again, your feelings are indifferent. “It’s fine. No hard feelings. No regrets.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah, it was a good relationship, just wasn’t meant to last.”
“At least you know that now. The last thing you want to do is marry someone that wasn’t right for you.”
You fold your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “True. Now I’m back to square one. It’s not so bad though, just different.”
Levi makes a noncommittal sound. “Embrace it. Change won’t kill you.”
You smile sincerely at that. Change feels weird despite the complacency, but the best thing for you to do is to keep trying, to learn what it is that you really want.
It’s the longest exchange you’ve had with Levi, and out of all your neighbors, he’s your favorite. Simply because he was nonchalant, minded his own business, and had this self-assured authenticity to him, an unconventional sort of charm. 
“Anyway,” you say, shifting the topic and standing more lax against the door. “Any big Saturday night plans?"
Levi doesn’t blink. “None. After that nap, I’ll be up all night, and my apartment could use some cleaning.” 
You hum, musing that you should do the same after such a busy week. However, a different thought enters your mind and you widen the door before you can think it through. “What about some tea? I was going to heat up the kettle."
Maybe deep down, you’re really struggling with being alone, but you wouldn’t have invited him inside if he never dropped by to begin with. 
Levi steps forward, waiting for you to clear the way for him. “What kind of tea?”
You smile faintly, shutting the door. “I’ve got a few options. I was thinking chamomile if that’s what you like.”
“No, I prefer black tea.” 
You bite back a laugh, looking over your shoulder. “You’re particular, aren’t you?”
Levi blinks at you, an answer in his stare.
While you should be offended by his curt response, you’re not. It’s a reprieve from having to force a personality around someone you barely know, and you appreciate Levi being himself.
“Alright, I’ll make two.”
You wander over to the kitchen island, shaking the package by your ear. “Have a seat. The remote should be on the couch. If there’s anything you want to watch, be my guest.”
“Nothing really to watch on a Saturday,” Levi says, flipping the TV on anyway.
“Yeah, true. I was going to check Netflix for something.” The words trail off, distracted with rummaging through the kitchen. You grab clean mugs, black tea bags, and get the kettle going. 
Lastly, you grab a paring knife, curious to open up the package. You don’t remember ordering anything as you scan the label again. Addressed to you, but with Levi’s apartment number. 
Cutting into the box, you peel away the excess plastic and your mind goes into orbit.
It’s an anal plug, made of metal with the end molded into the shape of a heart, adorned with a red stone. 
The memory floods back before you get a chance to read the note buried in the box. 
Before Zeke sent you off the other night, he offered to spoil you (his words, not yours) with a prettier toy, implying he’d like another session with you in the future.
You humored him but froze up when he asked for your apartment number. Thank goodness, Levi didn’t open it. 
Shoving it back in the box, along with the unread note, you turn back to the kettle in time. 
“So, how often do you travel for business?” you ask, prepping the tea. 
Levi looks past his shoulder and then back at the TV. “Once or twice every few months. I wouldn’t mind cutting back on it.”
“Oh? That's not so bad, you get a little vacation.”
“It’s not glamorous when it’s for work. Not every hotel is alike either. A lot of them are fucking filthy.”
You pause, holding back another laugh while you grab honey from the cupboard. Very, very particular. 
“Have you ever stayed at The Helos?” You open the fridge for the carton of milk.
“Our company used the conference hall for a day. I haven’t spent the night, but the glamour doesn’t mean shit. It’s in the busiest part of the city, therefore probably one of the dirtiest hotels in the area."
Arranging everything out on a tray, you walk over to join Levi on the couch, and set it down on the coffee table.
You gesture to the mugs. “If you want any extras to add, let me know.”
Levi flits a look at you, and reaches for a mug, ignoring the honey and milk. He takes the string of the tea bag, dipping it a few times in the tea before letting it sink back to the bottom. 
You welcome the moment of silence, adding your mixes to your mug, plucking the tea bag out with a spoon, and swirling it together. 
Levi takes a tentative sip of his mug. “Not bad.”
You quirk a brow. “Could be better?”
“Could be stronger. I like to steep it for a while.”
“Any stronger and you’d be up all night. Consider it a favor,” you add with a tease. 
Levi sips anyways, giving you a sidelong stare. “I don’t expect to fall asleep tonight. But I can find ways to stay busy.” 
He licks his lips, and you’re unaware of his steely eyes watching you bring the piping hot mug to your mouth.
Levi clears his throat. “What about you? Been busy since the breakup?”
The tip of your tongue blazes, distracted with the week’s memories replaying in your head. You set the mug down, scoffing lightheartedly. “Yeah, it’s stupid, but I was kind of peer pressured into joining Tinder.”
Levi says nothing, mask unreadable. 
You have no problem filling the silence. “Matched with a couple of guys, went on dates, et cetera.” You wave a flippant hand. “It was an experience.”
“That’ll keep anyone busy.” There’s a faint humor to his words. Of course, Levi’s not that much older than you are. You’ve seen him bring a date or two home, you wonder if he’s given Tinder the old college try. 
“Have you ever done it?”
Levi’s response is smooth and firm. “No. My colleagues tried to get me on it. It’s a waste of time.”
“Not your thing?”
“Too many idiots online.” He doesn’t mince his words, nor does he falter when he looks at you. “No offense.”
You laugh at his honesty. “There are a lot of characters on the platform.”
“Clowns, you mean.”
Again, you laugh, wholehearted, like before. Everything that comes out of Levi’s mouth is so subtle yet blunt. Witty without trying to be, an edge to his tone that’s wrapped in silk. Now he’s a character, one that you wouldn’t mind getting to know better. 
“A few here and there. I liked exploring out of my comfort zone. It’s been so long since I’ve dated, I’m a little out of practice. It was fun dating for the sake of it but…”
You pause, back to ruminating on the breakup. It’s not Colt you miss, it’s something else that you can’t pinpoint at the moment. 
“If this is how dating really is, I’m not sure it’s for me anymore. Call me geriatric,” you laugh. “If I wanted anything serious, I won’t find him on my phone. I prefer to meet the old-fashioned way.”
Levi shrugs, the mug ghosting his lips again. “You still can. Anything’s possible.”
You tilt your head, catching him watching you with pointed interest as he takes a sip. 
Meanwhile your tea is tepid compared to the warmth spreading along your face and neck, averting your gaze. “Maybe. I suppose I’ll just have to keep my eyes peeled.”
Levi reaches over to set his mug down, leveling you with a serious look. “You could have saved yourself the effort, if you looked hard enough.”
You turn back to him. “I thought that’s what I was…” Your words clip unfinished.
There’s something different about Levi’s eyes. He's hard person to read, but where the rest of his expression is impassive, it’s his eyes that talk. And those eyes flit to your lips, sliding to your neck, and back to your curious gaze. 
He doesn’t falter, unfazed to be caught staring at your mouth that’s split open mid-sentence. While subtle, you did notice his eyes linger for a few seconds more on your neck. 
You had forgotten about the hickey left behind. By Eren or Zeke, or whoever, you don’t even remember now. Nor do you care, mesmerized with Levi a few centimeters away, a fantasy planting itself in your mind of his lips marking your neck.
“Where else should I have looked?” You can barely hear yourself. 
Levi’s eyes never leave yours. He motions closer like he’s dragging himself through time to get to you. 
You feel the brush of his fingers against yours as he gently pries the mug from your hand and sets it down.
He’s much closer now, you can see the flecks of dark blue in his grey irises. The night sky peeking through clouds. 
Your pulse flares at the hand sliding up your neck. Levi’s thumb gently presses the hickey, clicking his tongue. For a split-second, you’re worried his touch will disappear.
It doesn’t. Fingers crawl up your nape, caressing your scalp while Levi’s thumb strokes the shell of your ear. His warmth fans over your lips as he speaks. 
“Now do you know…” His lips ghost yours. “Where you should have looked?”
Your eyes flutter closed, melting into the kiss. 
Levi holds the back of your head securely, pressing his weight forward, having you slide from the couch cushion. 
You allow him to guide you onto your back, all the while he continues to kiss you gently, swallowing each other’s faint moans.
You caress his sharp jaw, fingers inching to the back of his neck. When they brush against the fresh cut in the back of his skull, Levi growls.
He pulls your face deeper with delicate authority, biting your lower lip. Your head sinks back, gasping into his mouth as his tongue slips in.
Fingers sneak into the back of his hair, tugging lightly, spurring Levi’s own hand to slide down your chest. Through your thin PJ top, he gives your breast a light squeeze, gauging your reaction, and applies more pressure when you respond in favor.  
Another moan slips out the same moment he releases your mouth. Lips latch onto your neck, warm breath burning the goosebumps coating your skin, thrusting you into delirium.
You gasp at the teeth grazing your pulse. 
“This okay?” Levi breathes, scraping his teeth again. 
You nod, puffing out a hum. 
“I’m going to mark you,” is the only warning you get before your neck stings with teeth on skin.
You sag into Levi’s touch, though your hand travels to his chest, wrinkling his shirt in your fist.
A humored growl creeps into your ear. Strong hands seize your waist, your legs fall apart, and Levi tugs you closer to his front. 
A deep mewl rises in your chest, thighs twitching to meet the bulge in his pants. 
Levi's hand wraps behind your nape again to slot his mouth along yours. The other hand works its way up your thigh, lightly scratching at the bare skin. 
He revels when you shiver, digging his nails a little deeper but not enough to break skin. “You like that.”
Levi’s name drops from your mouth, weighing with need. 
Levi breaks away to pepper your neck with kisses, nipping at the skin. His hand slips under the hem of your shorts, pressing his thumb into the flesh of your thighs. Your body twitches under his pressure and he chuckles. 
“Eager for something?”
You whine, breathless. 
Understanding your silent pleas, Levi pushes into the skin of your thighs, groaning as you buck against his bulge. “Very eager…” 
He pushes back a little to give you some air and your eyes peel open. 
A faint smile spreads across Levi’s lips. For someone so indifferent and perpetually unimpressed, it’s an endearing vision, and one that pools warmth between your legs. 
Levi’s hand climbs higher, coming into contact with your wet pussy. “Tch. No panties?”
You supply your response with a lidded gaze.
“You’ve made a mess already, brat. I haven’t even touched you there yet.”
He observes you for a moment, checking for any shred of hesitation “Yeah?”
You soak in his expression, heart fluttering at the tender look he’s giving you. Patient and calm, despite the primal need to touch each other deeply. 
“Please,” you say before he kisses you again. “Ah…Levi…” 
He presses a finger on your clit, rubbing in languid circles, slick dripping onto his fingertips. After one long heated kiss, he draws away, using his free hand to hook into the waistband of your shorts, sliding them off so fast, your vision spins.
Levi’s lowered himself between your legs, lightning flickering behind his grey eyes to be met with your bare, dripping pussy. He flits his gaze to yours, breath hot against your folds. “Beautiful. So messy, so wet…”
Desperate for contact, your body sinks along the couch, but Levi doesn’t touch you there yet. Instead, he says, “Did your boyfriend leave you that dissatisfied? He never saw his girlfriend for the fiend that she really is?”
It’s strange how everyone around you was aware of the disconnect between you and Colt. Friends and strangers seemed to view you two as an odd match, and you were clueless as to why.
“He could never keep up with you,” Levi continues. “I could always tell how bored you looked, how dry your energy was around him, like he was an obligation.”
He takes your hand then, tying your fingers with his in a firm yet delicate grip.
The gesture takes you aback, awakening a need you didn’t realize you had been searching for.
Intimacy. 
That’s what you and Colt had lost a long time ago, even when still together.
It’s illuminating. This entire time, your indifference had left you blind to what you truly wanted: feeling safe, feeling seen, feeling connected. 
While the sex you had this week was great, no man on Tinder was capable of feeding that need. And it was your neighbor who held the key this entire time. 
You squeeze his hand. “Levi…”
He smiles, thumb stroking the back of your hand. “I’m going to take care of my girl.”
The affection fills you like a mouthful of honey, so sweet, so tender, and something to savor. 
Slender fingers slide past your folds, and you sigh in bliss. They pump inside of you, slow and experimental. His serenity and pace are very much akin to his personality. Even in the brewing storm of ecstasy, Levi’s patient, playing you like an instrument with an intuitive touch. 
“Oh…Levi…” You can’t stop saying his name. Every ounce of your pleasure belongs to him. 
“Does my girl like that?”
You bristle, nodding your head.
“And…does my girl like this too?” 
Your breath hitches, thigh twitching at the drag of Levi’s tongue along your clit. 
A third finger presses into the sensitive spot against your walls, stretching you open, pain mixing with pleasure. 
“You like being full, don’t you?” All three fingers curl, tongue swipes against your clit again a few more times.
Biting your lip, you nod, unable to look away from Levi’s gaze. Intoxicated by his tranquility, in no rush to get his own fix, despite the strain in his voice. 
“You’re going to cum for me,” he says, the authority is distinct. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see you when I make you cum. And you’re going to always remember my touch.”
Your eyes blink, lidded and heavy, taking in a deep inhale.
Levi’s husks. “My girl knows best.”
The nickname is sugar-sweet in your ears, and you shiver. 
He works his fingers faster, licking your clit, building up the momentum. 
Your hand squeezes around his as you feel the intensity rise. 
Levi moves your hand, guiding you to press it flat against your lower stomach. He keeps his hand atop yours, together, applying more pressure there. 
Your confusion is surpassed by a sensation you’ve never felt before. “Oh…Levi…it’s—”
Levi swallows, eyes trained on yours, a desperation in his gaze, like he refuses to miss this moment. 
Your mouth hangs open wider as your walls clamp around Levi’s fingers, the pressure in your lower belly heightens, heralding the beginnings of a climax.
He breathes your name. “Cum for me.”
He presses both your hands down, while his fingers push something deep inside of you. The combined sensations shatter your resolve.
You cry out as something rushes forth, spraying Levi’s face and fingers, soaking his wrist and shirt. The orgasm flows out of you in a wave of satisfaction that you never knew was possible.
Every inch of your body twitches from the release, every drop of blood in your body running warm, and curling your toes. A kind of pleasure that had been waiting to be roused for so long.
Levi continues to pump his fingers inside of you to ease you back down to earth, as his tongue laps up the mess.
He hasn’t let go of your hand, and you don’t have the heart to let go either. 
A beat passes like this, slow and silent, without any pressure to interrupt the moment. You bask in it, the stillness, the quiet, and in Levi’s everlasting attention. And when he resurfaces, mouth and chin shining with moisture, his looks at you.
“So messy.” He smirks, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. 
A tease hangs off the edge of your lips. “I thought you didn’t like messes.”
“I don’t like filth,” comes his blunt response, but you hear the softness in his tone. “I don’t mind a mess like this. Not when it’s coming from you.”
Sweet and lewd, a beautiful blend that is distinctly your neighbor. 
He falls forward, mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss that a renewal of desire simmers. His mouth is hungry, yearning, desperate and you feel the return of his bulge between your legs. Regardless of how spent you feel, you lift your hips up for friction, aching to feel his dick inside of you. He breaks away. 
You meet Levi’s eyes and without saying a word, you both work together to undo his belt. He slides his pants and boxers down to his thighs, setting his cock free. 
You drink in the sight. Erect, flushed red at the tip, sizeable…your pussy flutters, wanting to be filled. You take the shaft, stroking lightly, peering up. 
Levi’s eyes fall shut for a moment, breathing stilted the closer your thumb gets to his tip. Precum drips onto your hand and Levi snatches up your hips and pulls you astride. 
With a final look, he lifts you up, sinking you onto his lap. 
The pressure is better than you could have imagined, pushing past your sore walls with a pulsing sting that fades when he’s fully sheathed.
“Oh…” he moans. “My girl’s pussy feels like a dream.”
“Levi, please…” you whimper, grinding on his lap. You grin as he clicks his tongue.
A hand smacks your backside. 
Levi bares his teeth, reeling you in to meet his eyes. “Be patient, brat, or I’ll leave you like this all night.”
You whine and that gets you another smack to the ass.
Despite the bite in his tone, Levi revels in taunting you. “Don’t think I’m serious? We can stay like this. My dick nestled deep into your pussy that you’ll be dripping all over my lap before I make a move.”
You’d be remiss to say that you don’t enjoy his taunting. If Levi lives to torture, you’d gladly accept. But that doesn’t stop you from begging. “Levi…please. I want you to fuck me.”
You bristle, feeling his dick twitch inside of you. Biting back a moan, you wait with thinly-veiled patience.
But Levi’s composure is slipping too, regardless of his bluff. “Don’t look away. I’m going to fuck you like this.”
Arms wrap around Levi’s neck and hands hook onto the flesh of your thighs. 
Levi’s hips buck up, plunging himself in a deep thrust. 
He grunts with every snap of his hips, never tearing his gaze from your face, wanting to imprint your expression along his vision. 
Every thrust strokes the sensitive spot in your walls, firing every nerve that has you seeing stars. 
“Touch yourself for me,” Levi breathes, fucking into you in a steady tempo. 
Your eyes are trained on him, bringing your hand to your mouth, wetting your fingertips. As ordered, you don’t look away, catching the clench in his jaw at your lewd display. Lowering your hand, you touch your clit, gasping at the added pleasure. 
“Levi…” you moan. 
Levi’s licks his lips, thrusts are consistent though they’re becoming shaky. “Fuck…that’s—who’s fucking you.”
“You, Levi.”
Levi’s eyes flit down, watching your fingers rub yourself while his cock splits you open. His gaze crawls back up to meet yours. “I’m going to cum in your pussy. I’m going to make it mine.”
A sharp thrust has you nodding your head furiously. “Yes—please—I want to feel you.” 
Silence ensues, but nothing else needs to be said. The exchange of your bodies and sounds are enough to fill the quiet, enough to convey how connected and safe you feel. The first time in ages.
You cum for the second time; fingers tremble from the overstimulation. 
Levi’s thrusts lose their rhythm. He grabs onto you tighter, imprints bruising your flesh. A few more sharp snaps of his hips and he cums inside of you, releasing a hearty moan. 
The world falls silent again, save for the heavy breathing. 
You brush away his bangs clinging to his forehead, aroused to see your neighbor in such a state. 
“You okay?” he sighs, eyes finding yours, hand finding your jaw. 
You nod, allowing the afterglow to take control. Unable to stop yourself, you lean closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his. 
Levi pulls you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder with arms holding you in a protective embrace. 
Time passes but you’re not aware of that. Too comfortable, nestling your head against Levi’s neck. You hold him tighter, and he reciprocates, strong arms keeping you close. 
Eventually, you slide off of him, inwardly relishing at his seed gushing out of you. 
You give him space as he drags his pants back on, but leaves the belt undone. 
On wobbly feet, you find your shorts discarded by the tray of tea that has gone cold.
Your shorts fall back to the coffee table, the living room jostling in your vision. “What—?”
Levi pats your bare ass, keeping a secure hold of you over his shoulder. “You don’t need those tonight.” He steps away from the couch, turning around. “I'm just getting started with you."
“Where are we going?” you say.
Levi comes to a still. “Your bedroom. Unless you want me to take you to mine?” He motions to the door. “Of course, our neighbors will get a glimpse of your ass, but if you prefer—”
You squirm, shaking your head. “No, no—my room is perfect!” Although that thought doesn’t bother you either. For now, you pack it away, pleased to spend your evening with Levi.  
Spinning a heel, Levi carries you down the hall. “Good answer.” ...
A few months later…
Your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You reach for it, careful not to spill the tea Levi’s prepared for you. 
Opening up the new notification, you scoff. 
At your side, Levi takes a sip of his mug, curious and nonchalant. “Another dick pic?”
Courtesy of Eren Jaeger. 
You had abandoned Tinder a long time ago, having lost interest after getting closer to Levi. It didn’t take you long to delete your profile as you settled in a comfortable new routine with your neighbor. 
The connection between you two was gradual. After your break-up, you didn’t want to rush into anything, and Levi was fine with the slower pace. Neither of you were seeing other people, and while you two had yet to label anything, you were practically exclusive.
During the week, he’d drop by for dinner if he wasn’t out of town for business. And on Saturday evenings, you’d be over at his place where he’d make tea, preparing it how you liked.
And of course, the sex never got old. It was phenomenal every time.
Pieck and Ymir were surprised, hardly knowing anything about your neighbor beforehand, but they were happy for you nonetheless, and even got along well with Levi. 
You barely gave the ghosts of Tinder’s past enough thought. 
You never heard from Porco after that one time. Reiner was back where he lived and sent you a few pictures of his dog before all communication stopped.  Connie had invited you to watch his band play and after you told him you were seeing someone, he extended the invite to Levi as well. 
Jean also took it in stride, a gentleman to the core. Pieck and Ymir were surprised that you let him go, but the chemistry wasn’t quite there like it was with Levi.  
Zeke was a ghost most of the time, only popping in to send you lewd text messages that you had him blocked. Until weeks later, he’d reach out again via a new number. 
And then there was Eren, who was just beyond shameless that even Levi found his efforts humorous.
Try-hard, was Levi’s word of choice after you had regaled him with your misadventures on the dating app.
Much like Zeke, Eren would reach out after a period of crickets, and oftentimes with a nude picture. You had ignored him for while, and finally told him you were talking to someone else, to which he gave you an egotistical response.
Sure, let me know when that’s over ;)
“I think I’m going to change my number now.” You delete the message and block him this time. 
Levi wraps an arm around you, kissing your temple. “If you want to, go for it. Or if you want, I'll get rid of that brat for you."
You snuggle closer to him, endeared with his integrity even when it's a threat against Eren's life. You really like Levi. “For his sake, I’ll just change my number.”
There’s another buzz and this time it’s Levi’s phone.
You push off as he picks it up and types a quick message. Likely his colleagues. “Is it important?” you say.
Levi sets it back down, taking you in his arm again. “No. Hange asked if I wanted to catch a movie with them and Erwin tonight, and I said I was with my girlfriend.”
Your heart skips a beat, and yet Levi takes a long sip of his tea, eyes on the TV playing. 
“I’m your girlfriend?”
Levi shifts to look at you with furrowed brows. “Yeah.” It’s simple and short. 
“And you’re my boyfriend,” you supply, hope brightening your voice. 
The corner of Levi’s lips curl. “Yeah.”
Since the start, everything was so easy with Levi. Simple and peaceful. Even with a routine, there was no stagnancy. Each day was like a new one with him. 
You hadn’t thought of Colt in a while, and whenever he’d creep into your mind, it was with a fondness of a past, you were happy to have moved on from. 
Hindsight told you that change would be positive. And hindsight told you that Levi’s right, change won’t kill you.
With nothing else to add, you press against your boyfriend’s side, every part of you fulfilled again.  The End ! ◡̈ 
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That's the end of our Tinder journey lol! Thank you for reading!!! 🩵 ☻ masterpost☻ taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel @shepnicolo @porples-blog @jeanboyjean @fictional-d-supremacy
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sagephilosophie · 11 days
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No Entrance⃠
┆Mochizuki “Mochi” K.
ʙᴏᴜɴᴄᴇʀ!ᴍᴏᴄʜɪ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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˗ˏˋ ★ Tags ˎˊ˗
NSFW, Choking, Hair-pulling, Degradation, Belly Bulge, Spit As Lube, Rough Sex, Breeding, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Hook-Up, reader has a vagina, Making Out, Dirty Talk.
˗ˏˋ ★ Word Count ˎˊ˗ : 1,319
AO3
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Your friend kept trying to get your attention all night, the loud music in the nightclub didn't help them much, some of your once sober friends even gave up on you and got back to having fun.
The club was jam packed that saturday night, bunch of your drunk friends grinding on each other, dancing, and hitting on random strangers, and the rest went to the back to puke, but all in all completely wasted.
But you, on the other hand, sat still in your seat, only kept your eyes on the well built bouncer guarding the VIP room facing your table, maybe it was the alcohol kicking in, but no one in a club full of horny poeple managed to captivate you like he did.
Watching him throughly, posing with his arms crossed, flexing those muscles, with a stern look on his face, made you frot your legs together and bite your lips slightly.
Your head began creating hot cinematic love scenes where that veiny hand chokes you and your cervix is getting fucked mercilessly by his relentless hip movements as you come undone on his massive cock.
The alcohol were pushing you to make a move on him and make your daydreams come true, but you wondered if he was even gonna notice you, unlike everyone around that came here to have fun on a Saturday night, he came to do his job, and jobs are the opposite of a saturday night fun.
Just as you couldn't look away, he noticed your stares and glanced back at you, your arousal between your legs gushed like a waterfall, and the imaginary scenarios in your head went wild, any rational person in your position would have looked away or just waved, but that one drunk and horny braincell inside your head said 'fuck it we only live once' and had you winking at him.
He gave you a smirk that lifted your hopes high up to the roof and that was all you needed to approach him, neither of you broke eye contact as you walked towards him and pushed everyone out of your way, making sure to pose seductively before him.
"Hey there, handsome~", you began to chat him up.
"Hey doll, I saw you eyeing me the whole night, let me guess, you want a free VIP entrance, doncha ?"
"Perhaps... i do need an entrance...", you threw one arm over his shoulder, your hands seperating between touching his wide neck and laying on his chest, running your finger all over him, while closing the distance between both of you.
He grabbed your hand from his neck and you yelped at his strong grip, "Well nice try, sweetheart, but no entrance granted."
The man, written on his name tag [MOCHI], had no idea how turned on and inspired he got you with his beefy physique.
It took all your willpower to not moan his name out loud.
"Aw babe... i don't need that entrance... i only came around to grant you entrance~"
"Oh yeah ?", Mochi grinned widely, revealing all his front teeth, "Where to ?"
The outcome of this converstation was going in your favor, so you smiled back and whispered in his ear, "Paradise~"
All of a sudden, a harsh grip on your hair dragged you to the back entrance, your back hit the wall as soon as the door opened, and you whined when a hand interlocked with your neck.
"Just so you know, i don't do gentle, so you better not be a fragile bitch."
"Sounds fun ♡"
"Fucking slut.", Mochi dived into your mouth and kissed you roughly, slipping in his tounge for a messier open-mouthed kiss.
The music was still faintly playing in the background but you couldn't give two fucks about it as your makeout session was getting more heated and pleasurable, Mochi choking you was the cherry on top.
Lust was eating you alive as the muscular man pulled you off of him forcefully, turned you around to press you more towards the wall and rising your already short dress to your upper back. You yelped when a hand came down and smacked your ass cheek, then another on your other cheek, another after another, and your moans kept getting higher with each slap.
"What is it you fucking whore ? Already can't handle me ♡ ?"
You can only answer him with moans synchronizing with his echoing spankings, which only fed his sadistic needs, "Pathetic..."
The striking stopped and Mochi caressed your swollen buttocks to spread them, you wondered if he was gonna get straight to the point but your thoughts were cut short when you felt liquid falling down on your folds, the sudden sensation sent shivers to your spine that you had to turn your neck to see his saliva rubbing on your exposed vagina.
Mochi spat again down your clit and used two of his fat fingers to smear them inside your hole hurriedly, "Too small, can't risk you passing out on me."
Your eyes rolled back to your head at the shape of his fingers inside you, he kept fingering you carelessly until he concluded you were wet enough to take him.
He got back up straight and pulled down his uniform pants with visible desire on his face, your neck almost snapped from the sudden rotation, you absolutely needed to see how big he was, and you were not disappointed; he had a massive raging red 10-incher, hard and ready to tango.
You could already visualize your gravestone written on it 'IN LOVING MEMORIES OF THIS WHORE. DEATH BY DICK.' and happily embracing that idea, because even if he kills this pussy, you'll atleast die happy.
"Cat got your tounge ?", Mochi's mocking voice sent you back down to earth.
"Waiting for your move anytime now, big guy, take your time ♡"
It's one of which, your reverse mockery didn't sit right by him or it turned him on, either way he grabbed your leg leading it to his shoulder, putting you in a ballerina position, "You talk too big for a little cumslut."
You had no time to remark on that when he shoved himself inside you and you couldn't even hear yourself screaming his name.
He wasn't lying when he said he don't do gentle, his thrusts were ruthless with no care for you or your pain tolerance, you couldn't convince yourself to care either when he sent both his hands to your neck and showed you stars.
The peak was unimaginably good. Your hole welcomed his size with open arms and your orgasm was the one chasing after him like there was no other point in life other than to get fucked stupid by him all night long.
Mochi wasn't going to let you taste that sweet taste of reaching your climax so fast, everytime you feel close he will pull out and edge you to tears, it was clear he had plans to make you come undone on his cock tonight.
When you ignored your own voice for a moment, the lewd sounds of his breathing and grunts turned you on further and added to the pleasurable torture you were living, everything about him drove you crazy, his veiny hands that's now bruising your hips, his dark eyes from the reflection of the metal pipe in front of you, his bulge constantly peaking from your belly, oh lord...
His sudden loud moans cought you off guard as his speed increased unrealistically fast, you could've sworn you went to heaven and back when he filled your insides with white.
He let go of you to catch his breath, and you were still is a whole new world after that, the obvious sounds of Mochi wearing his pants back on was the only thing that helped you realise how real that whole situation was.
"Doll..."
"Hm?"
"That was fun, maybe we can do that again sometime, in the VIP room."
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                            @sagephilosophie
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💛💙Protected (Charlotte Katakuri x Female!Reader) Pt. 3💛💙
💚 = Lime/Lil Spicy
💛 = Lemon
💙 = Sad
❤️ = Angsty (won't do many of these unless prompted) 
💜 = Fluff
💔 = Heartbreak (rare unless prompted)
🖤 = Normal 
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Part 3, as promised!~ It all comes to the thrilling conclusion, and I FINALLY get to the scene that started this whole story.~ After about collectively 18.5 k words.~ All I can say in my defense is that...THIS MAN IS TOO FINE!~ If you don't want the ✨spicy✨ part of this story, that's totally fine.~ Just stop reading at the line of star squids.~ Enjoy, dearies.~
Minors, Do Not Interact, Please.~
Part 1 <- - Part 2 <- - Part 3
Although I wished for it, the silence that abruptly replaced the sounds of destruction and fighting startled me, along with the suddenly very loud shouting of Pekoms in my ear. 
“Y/N! It’ll be okay-!” The pink clad mink cut himself off at the abrupt silence. Our heavy breaths were the only thing filling the new quiet. We both slowly detached from each other and looked around us to see the same semi-transparent white shield that I had created earlier. Its opaqueness varied in pulses, so I could see that everything around us had crumbled into rubble except the ground inside the bubble.
“What the fuck?” Pekoms mumbled out, looking around until his gaze fell back onto me who looked equally surprised. This sudden change shocked my panicked mind out of its frenzied state, allowing me to calm myself down. The calmer I became, the more I realized how drained I felt again and leaned against Pekoms once more.
“Is this yours, Y/N?” Looking up at my reflection in Pekoms’ black glasses, I gave a hesitant nod before responding.
“Y-Yeah, I guess it is. . . “ This new power still felt weird to me. More so the after effects of me being fatigued and suddenly so calm. It bothered me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was like the emotions just expelled from my body. Before our conversation could continue on, some movement caught the corner of my eye. A beat up, and barely moving Strawhat had crawled out of a large hole in the ground.
Once again, the bubble popped so suddenly when my heart jumped into my throat in dread. 
Where was Katakuri? 
With the barrier gone, the rubble around us sank into our little hole, but I ignored it and the weariness tugging at my bones, scrambling over the debris. Desperation clawed its way back into my heart and showed in my deep purple antennae as I crested the pile of rubble, searching for my husband. Tears burned my darting eyes, blurring my vision, until they fell onto the large body sprawled out beside the hole. Katakuri. No scarf in sight. My breath hitched, and the tears fell freely as I took in what that entailed. A part of me already knew what the outcome of this fight would be, but it still hurt to be right. This was the last thing I wanted to be right about.
I felt Pekoms come up beside me on the rubble, his reaction being the opposite of mine when he saw Strawhat alive. Before either of us could go to our respective fighters, the sound of those familiar spurs clanked twice through the air as Katakuri struggled to his feet in front of a crawling Strawhat. I was frozen to my spot, watching with bated breaths as he swayed on his feet. Blue light bathed either side of my face as my antennae drooped down.
"Kata. . . " I whispered out, thinking he was going to try and continue fighting. I wish I could grab the bracelet from my hair and know what was going through his heart and mind right now, but I was glued to my spot, unable to even get past the state he was in. There was blood dripping from multiple wounds, the largest being a hole in his side, fresh bruises littering his body, sure to be a nasty color tomorrow, and his entire body shaking with exhaustion.  
At the obstruction, the retreating captain stood up as well, readying himself for a fight that neither of them seemed to be in the shape to continue. Pekoms growled beside me, seemingly unhappy with the fact that Strawhat was still trying to fight with Katakuri.
"That damn brat doesn't know when to quit, huh? Tch, I figured as much." And with that, my travel companion parted from my side and away from the two fighters. I was about to get up myself, to try and convince my injured husband to stop. That dying for his mother's cause wouldn't change a thing. Maybe it was selfish of me to think so, but I just knew I couldn't live without him. I barely know how I lived before him. Before I could force myself to move, my husband's raspy question stopped me. 
"Are you gonna come back. . . to take down Big Mom one day?" 
Huh? Was he asking this boy to. . ?
"Of course I am! Cause I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"
Then, the most bizarre thing happened.
Katakuri smiled. He smiled at the thought of someone taking down his mother.
"You must be looking far into the future!" He exclaimed as he started swaying more on his feet. Looking like he was about to fall again is what finally spurred me to action. I didn't know what happened in that fight for him to be so open about his feelings with this enemy, but that hardly mattered now. I started sprinting across the ruined floor, tripping and falling over debris as Katakuri began falling. Onto his back, no less. He was on his stomach before.
I knew I couldn't catch him, but I'd been apart from him for too long, and he needed me just as much as I needed him right now. He landed with a resounding thud that hurt my heart. I could see Strawhat standing there in shock as I finally got to my husband's side. My knees cut on the broken floor at his sides, but I hardly cared as I frantically looked over my defeated husband.
"Katakuri! No no no, are you okay? Please don't die! I love you too much to let you die!" I wasn't sure what to do first, he was unresponsive. The first thing I could think of was to stop the bleeding from the big gash on his side. With nothing else to use, I took the skirt of my dress and pressed it into the wound. The fabric of my skirt was too sheer, though, and barely did anything to stop the flowing life force. As I thought about what to do instead, I could feel another person approaching. 
Strawhat Luffy. 
Meeting him face to face like this instead of through his Haki had a different effect. He didn't seem like a dangerous guy, in fact he seemed quite simple. Yet here Katakuri was, flat on his back after their battle. He had big, round black eyes that shone with determination –towards what, I didn't know just yet– and his mouth was set in a fine line. It unnerved me that I couldn’t take any emotions from his blank face. He was worse than when I first met Katakuri. Strawhat looked far more beat up than Katakuri, which I secretly relished, but was at least able to stumble his way towards us. I knew I stood no chance at fighting this guy if he wanted to finish off my husband, but I'd be damned if I didn't do anything.
"Go away! You won! Isn't that enough? He's already down, so just leave, go find your crew!" I splayed myself protectively in front of my husband. I wouldn't be much of a hindrance if this guy really wanted to get rid of me, though I could stall. If only for a few moments. He ignored me and got closer. I was shaking. Shaking in both anger and fear to make a deep magenta as he dared ignore me. When he was a few steps away, I covered half my arm in Haki –that was the most I could use even after 2 years of training– and threw a punch as hard as I could at him. Even in his weakened form, the infamous pirate caught my fist effortlessly. I strained against him, staring heatedly into his thoughtless eyes. 
With the contact, I searched his emotions and intent, if only to predict his line of thought, but what I found was nothing I expected. Through the pain and exhaustion were strong threads of respect and twinges of sorrow. They were towards Katakuri. That caught me off guard, and the loss of concentration made my Haki disappear. Strawhat didn't move against me as he stared blankly into my confused eyes.
"I'm not gonna hurt him." 
And for some reason, I believed him. I kept my eyes on him as I slowly took back my hand, my magenta lightening to a curious yellow. His grip wasn't very tight in the first place. He turned his attention to my still unconscious lover, and I watched as he stepped past me, took the black hat off of his namesake hat and put it over Katakuri's mouth. That surprised me even more. To think that Strawhat respected him enough to cover his biggest insecurity even after he won. Vice versa with Katakuri taking this fight so seriously that he exposed himself in full to this rambunctious teen.
The boy left after that, staggering his way aimlessly down a winding hall of the half destroyed Mirro-World. I'm sure Pekoms would find and help him. This was out of my hands now that Katakuri had been defeated. Returning my attention back to my lover, I let out a tired sigh. I'd never seen my husband look so beat up before. The thought of how much pain he must be in brought the tears back to my eyes. It was over now, his part was done, and everything was coming down. 
"Oh, Kata. Your mother doesn't deserve you." My quiet words came out watery as I pet his dirty magenta hair a little, wishing I could hold him more, but I didn't want to cause him anymore pain. I wouldn't even be able to get serious help for him until Brulee came back, which I'm sure will be a while since Pekoms needed her for Strawhat's escape. I hope she's alright. My hand moved from his head to the black hat Strawhat had put over his mouth, removing it so I could see his full face. He was still the most handsome man ever. With a sad smile, I bent over and kissed his forehead hoping he would feel the love in it even while he was asleep. 
Looking around, I saw my abandoned medical kit lying on the ground a bit of ways away slightly under some rubble. For hopefully one of the last times today, I made myself get up to retrieve it. My tears had slowed, but when I came back and began cleaning up my husband they streaked down my dirty face again. The warm rivulets of tears dripped from my chin and nose onto his chest as I leaned over him. Starting with his face, I used alcohol wipes to wipe away the dirt and gently clean his cuts. This medical kit only had basic things, so I used all the candy design bandages where I could, and the gauze on his big gash. After about half an hour of quietly working, my silent cries had been reduced to the occasional sniffle here and there. 
The appearance of Katakuri had improved, and everything was at least cleaned, though he looked a bit silly with all the cutesy bandages covering his face and torso. With a weary sigh, I turned my attention to the pile of dirty and bloodied wipes with a grimace. As I began stuffing them into the basically empty medical kit, a groan interrupted the deafening background noise of the Mirro-World. My attention immediately snapped to my husband whose face was contorting from peace to pain. His large hand came up to his dirty locks, grasping at his head as he let out another sound of pain. My breath caught in my throat at the sound.
"Kat. . . Katakuri. . !" My throat closed up before I could get anything else out, and let myself fall down onto his free arm. I could feel him freeze as I let out all my pent up emotions. Everything oozed out of me like a toxic slime with each shuddering sob. Pain. Sorrow. Fear. Relief. All the tension I was holding in my chest slowly drained out of me. I was weak in the presence of my protector.
“You’re okay! You’re alive! Everything was rumbling and falling apart, I saw you fall and he came over and I thought he was gonna. . . he was gonna-!” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. Not right now at least. Maybe never again. Wave after wave of tears fell in fat blobs down my face, and I couldn’t stop shaking as I held on tight to Katakuri’s arm. I could feel his regret, pain and shame mixing in with my turbulent emotions at the sight of me crying. My antennae settled into a deep cerulean blue that lit up my crying visage. It wasn’t long before I felt his free hand come to my back and rub it gently. That only encouraged my breakdown, enticing me to hug his arm in my hold tighter. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve put you through too much today. I’m sorry I couldn’t win. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I’m sorry-” 
“No! Be-Be quiet!!” I shook my head in a childish manner, not wanting to hear those remorseful words misplaced in his mouth. His voice was shaky and his chest shuddered with every regretful word he pushed out, seemingly on the edge of joining me in tears. Whether that was my doing or his own sorrow showing itself, I didn't know. The sound of him being so defeated brought back the anger I felt earlier towards Strawhat, but this time it was aimed towards the real culprit: Big Mom. 
None of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t taken that blonde cook. He obviously wanted nothing to do with Germa, not that I blame him for disassociating from those monsters. Yes, Katakuri would always protect his family because of his own sense of responsibility and love, but she created and invited this threat, just like every other danger, to the family. I knew he could feel my silent anger, but I didn't dare bring up that topic right now. For the moment being, I was just worried about my husband, and only him.
Lifting my head up, my mouth was downturned in a frown as I subdued my crying and swallowed my indignation to continue talking. I saw the suspected tears in Katakuri’s eyes as he moved his shiny gaze from the ruined ceiling to my indignant face. Oh, how I hated that self-loathing look in his beautiful red eyes.
“None of this is your fault. You did your best, I know you did, Katakuri. Why are you apologizing to me when you took on such a powerful opponent with everything you had? You were lying here in a bloody heap at the end of your battle, all because of that damn Strawhat boy. You are more than enough. More than your mom or I deserve. The only thing you should be apologizing for is making me think you died.” The last part of my rant was whispered quietly, the words being the biggest fear I’ve had all day. I swiped at my face, trying fruitlessly to wipe away some of the wetness coating it. His sharp toothed mouth hung open like a fish out of water. He had nothing to say to my rebuttal, but the swelling of tears slipping down his face said it all. 
The tight feeling of anger was washed away completely by that soft face. The face of a man who’s been given the grace he deserves. Seeing him crying made me smile. He would have never shown this type of emotion to anyone else in his family since he wanted to be seen as an immovable force that protects them, but now that image was shattered. And I'm starting to think it's a good thing he lost. I threw myself down onto his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck. A watery laugh escaped me as I buried my face into his strong neck and his large arms enveloped me in their comforting embrace. Even though he lost, he was still my protector. In his arms was still the safest place I felt I could be.
<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆
Muffled voices prodded at my subconscious. I couldn’t discern anything as I pressed my face closer to the warm, squishy thing I lay upon. One of the voices was deeper and closer than the others, the vibration of their words humming through my body. I tried to just ignore it and go back to sleep, but the longer the voices continued the more awake I became. And with my resurfacing consciousness came the pain of my body as I tried moving. The soreness everywhere and sharp pain on my knees made me grimace in regret.
“Shh. . . sleeping. . . don't wake. . .”
“. . . eeping? . . hard as a rock. . . she won’t wake. . .” 
The two other voices that weren't the soothing rumbling began to argue, and until I opened my eyes I wasn't sure where I was, or who was talking. The first thing I saw was pink. Bleariness had my mind as slow as a tortoise as I peeled my face away from the squishy pink thing. Pulling away further, I realized it was a person’s chest. My husband’s chest to be exact. Finally, everything came rushing back and anxiety shot through me like an archer’s arrow. Despite my sore body’s protests, I sat up and looked around wildly. 
I was in Katakuri and my’s room, lying in our bed. Katakuri sat propped up beside me with a lot of large pillows behind him and heavily bandaged. On either side of our bed was Cracker and Brulee, who was the source of the “hushed” bickering. Everyone froze when I popped up like a gopher. I probably looked like a mess right now, and acting so crazy definitely didn't help that rap. Brulee was the first to break the deafening silence. 
“Y/N-nii! You're okay! I was so worried that you weren't gonna wake up just like Katakuri-nii! It was horrible what you two went through! That damn Strawhat, I'll kill him myself!” The large, wispy woman had pounced on me when she started her blubbering, holding onto me tightly by my waist while crying into my stomach. Her tight embrace didn't do my aching body any favors, but the familiar touch made me relax. Her feelings of relief and joy gave me a small boost of energy.
“Sorry to worry you, Brulee. It's okay, I'm fine.” I wheezed out with strained breaths. 
“Get off of her, you witch! You’re really gonna kill her like that!” Cracker came to my rescue in his own little Cracker way. His instigation made the emotional woman let go of me and engage in yet another bickering match, but this one was full volume now that they didn't have to worry about waking me up. I rubbed at my tender muscles while letting out a few amused chuckles. With his siblings’ distraction, I had forgotten to address my husband beside me.
“I'm glad you're awake.” His baritone voice commented quietly. My heart leapt to my throat, and I couldn't turn around fast enough to fully focus on him. There he was, in all his handsome glory. The fact that I could see his whole face caught me off guard. I glanced from him to his two siblings with a silent question before scooting back to his bare side. I decided to voice my obvious question when he said nothing.
“Why aren't you wearing-?”
“I don't need it. At least not with them, and not right now. Mama has decided to continue pursuing Strawhat who is heading to Wano. Some of our siblings are going with her while the rest of us stay to recuperate and rebuild the kingdom.” Despite his serious words, there was a small smile on Katakuri’s face as he talked about his mother going to chase Strawhat Luffy. It made me think about the question he asked that boy. The connection made me giggle. 
Cracker and Brulee stopped their argument at my tinkle of laughter. I couldn't hold it in, and my giggles grew into a full on laughter. Katakuri smiled happily at my joy, soon joining me with a few low chuckles of his own that blossomed into one of his rare laughters as well. We couldn't see it, but Brulee was smiling fondly at our seemingly random laughter with Cracker looking bewildered between all three of us. 
“What the fuck are you both laughin-”
“Come on, let's go check on our other siblings, Cracker.” Brulee grabbed Cracker by a bandaged arm, eliciting a pained cry from him, and dragged him from his seat to our nearby full length mirror. With a hefty push from the tall woman, Cracker was sent into the Mirro-World. Before she went through herself, she spoke to us as we came down from our laughing high.
“You two should rest. I'll tell everyone to let you have your time alone today, wiwiwi.~” And with that, we were alone. I sat there catching my breath as the peace settled in our room. A deep breath quieted my emotions into content, and I could feel the same coming from my paramount husband. My arms snaked around as much of his chest as they could and gave him a tight squeeze which I was sure he barely felt. 
“I'm glad you're happy. Happier. Maybe now. . . you could be more yourself. No more hiding and putting up that omnipotent facade.” Hope for my lover’s possible boost in his self-image bloomed in my chest as I slowly tilted my head up to look at him. He wouldn't look me in the eye, and there was a solemn doubt in his eyes and heart. 
“Perhaps. Though, things of this matter are not so easily changed. Especially not in my family. You know this.” His comment procured a furrow on my brow. Not wanting him to fall off into a dark place again so quickly, I moved into his lap, straddling his waist as my small hands reached up to direct his face to mine. 
“What if you were the one to change that?” That simple question held a few different meanings. Meanings I'm sure the man before me could easily decipher after three years of marriage. He’d never admit it to anyone, but I felt it. I felt his relief when he lost. The joy when Strawhat said he’d come back. The buried hope that Big Mom would fall. Every burden he’s been caused was because of his mother, as is with his siblings. It was a sure bet that Katakuri would be voted the captain of the Big Mom Pirates if his mother fell. Then he could begin to heal his family and himself. 
Katakuri stayed quiet for a good few moments, but I didn't need a verbal answer. I knew the answer of his heart. With my hands on his jaw, and us finally being alone after such a long, draining battle, I couldn't help the beckoning I felt towards him. Even all bandaged up and bed ridden, Katakuri still had my heart and body in a hold. The pain of the cuts on my knees were no match for the yearning burning in me. With deliberate movements, it didn't take long for my lips to slowly mesh into his. The familiar feeling of his sharp teeth prodded at my chin and upper lip, but it just spurred me on. He tasted like donuts, as usual. 
Katakuri seemed to have no qualms with my choice of action since his large hands were soon encompassing my hips. Lithe fingertips danced from his jaw to the back of his neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps along the way. His semi upright position on the bed made it easier for me to lay upon him fully and deepen our sweet kiss. My heart raced faster, and I already knew my antennae were a deep rose pink as they lowered against my head. With flushed cheeks, I minimally pulled away to catch my breath. Upon opening my eyes, my lust filled ones were met with the love littered ones of my husband. The look he gave me, made me a bit shy for being so forthright with my desires. Though, the tent I felt against my butt suggested that it was not unwelcome. 
After a brief spell of bashfulness, I willed myself to continue. It was too late to stop, and I had done enough holding back during the day of the wedding. Not to mention the time I've been asleep. With that thought in mind, I crashed my eager mouth back into Katakuri’s, wrapping my arms around his muscled neck. I could feel him taking in a deep breath through nose but didn't pull away. In fact, he pulled me closer by my hips. Kata was as needy as I was, but still maintained his self-restrictions. His apprehensiveness to indulge himself in me had my clenching insides groaning in exasperation. It wasn't long before I was pushing myself back against his growing sex with apparent longing. 
Our passionate kiss devolved into one of sloppy desire until I wrenched my lips from his to latch onto his neck. With it being covered all the time, it was an easy weakness I could exploit. Just a soft faux bite right below his jaw had him squeezing my hips tighter. A restrained groan hummed against my mouth as Kata let out hot, heavy pants against my shoulder. I continued my soft bites into his warm skin. My teeth sunk into his flesh, tasting mochi, which showed that he allowed me to do this. The feeling of his large muscles straining against me as he still held himself back drew out soft whines from my throat. 
“Kata.~ Please, I need you so bad. I know you want to use me.” My usually modest voice rang with sultry desire as I whispered into my husband’s ear. My teasing yanked another seemingly pained groan from him, making him press his sharp nose to my shoulder. Those sharp teeth were just a hair away from my own neck. The thought of what he could do to me with them made me shiver.
“Don't do this to me, love. I can't. . . I might just. . .” He growled out his labored warning to me. Usually, I would back off and continue to set the pace, but today was different. Today, I wanted to press all the wrong buttons to get the “punishment” I've always been threatened with. For once I wanted my husband to be the one in pure sensual bliss. He deserved it after everything he’s been through. This was my gift to him. If he couldn't unapologetically be himself anywhere else in his life, I wanted him to be completely open with me. Verbally and physically.
Deciding upon this course of action put a tingle in my spine. I could finally do all the teasing I wanted and say all those things that drove him crazy. Katakuri had been preoccupying himself with kneading my bare thighs from under my nightgown and leaving soft kisses along my now exposed shoulder. Soft mumbles of praise from him to me sung into my ears, only making me more excited for what was to come. He was already teetering on a thin edge. 
I continued to roll my hips back and forth against his fully hard bulge. Slowly and deliberately. A soft whimper escaped me each time I rolled just right over my sensitive spot, clinging to him like he was my lifeline. 
“You can't leave me like this. I want it all, I know I can take it. Just fuck me all you want. It'd be so easy and feel so good.~” Yet another growl rumbled against my chest from his as I continued whispering dirty nothings in his ear. 
“Y/N. Stop. Please.” He used my full name. He was serious, but despite his firm tone, I could feel his raging lust banging on the grates of his body. Screaming from the sewers to let it come out to play to its heart content. I was dangling the key so carelessly above the ravenous hands stretching through the gaps. My own lust had already taken over my body. It was in control with the rest of my emotions tied up and left to watch with morbid curiosity how this would end. All I did was smile and run my hands down his chiseled chest. 
I didn't respond to his plea and demand, but instead continued my dangerous game. I detached myself from him and led my lips on a trail from his neck to his waist band. As I looked up at my needy lover, I could see the dangerous glint in his red eyes. Not the one he got when he was fighting, this was different. It felt more animalistic and unkempt. Something I hadn't felt in him before. It was like there was a whole new part of him that had been closed off, and I was the first to experience it this way. My butt swayed restlessly behind me, my lower stomach begging for relief of this infernal itch deep inside me. And there was only one way to get rid of it. Excitement overrode my momentary fear as I held his warning gaze while making quick work of his pants and boxers.
Finally, the thing I pined after stood before me, lighting my body abuzz and cheeks ablaze. Precum had darkened a wet spot on his boxers and showed no signs of stopping as his cock twitched and pulsed in my hands. A giggle bubbled out of me as I pressed my cheek to the shaft and kissed my way up to the soft, wet tip. I hummed in satisfaction when the soft pink head slid into my mouth, my tongue swirling around his sensitive glands. Just with this much, my mouth was half full, but I knew that other parts of me could handle him just fine. I felt like I could handle anything as long as it satisfied him. This progress had Katakuri moaning and gently holding my head. There was no push of his hands or buck of his hips, but I knew he wanted more. Well if he wanted more today, then he’d have to take more. I let go of my tight grip on his head with a pop, licking my lips as I swallowed his stringy fluids. 
“Doesn't my mouth feel good? You know what would feel even better than my little mouth?” I called out once again to Kata, bringing him out of his haze of pleasure. I continued to slowly pump his full length with both hands, but only rubbed his tip along my now wet cheek. 
“Ka-ta-kur-i.~ Why don't you wanna make your wife feel good?~ I'm begging you.~ I promise it will feel great for both of us.~ Please?~” A faux pout puffed my cheeks when he didn't respond, just letting out those deep, restraining growls and grunts. I knew it would take more than a little teasing to get him to let loose. I let go of his cock fully and sat up on my bandaged knees. The adrenaline pumping through my hot body nulled the pain from them as I took the straps of my nightgown and tugged them leisurely down my arms. The thin, flowy fabric of the gown already showed my perked up nipples through it, but I knew he liked seeing the real deal. The small straps fell off my fingers, but bunched up on my hips, unable to completely fall off without some assistance. 
I crawled back on top of my heavily breathing husband, his sharp eyes hooded with lust, hovering my gooey entrance over his weeping tip. The urge to slide down on it, and ride us both to completion was tempting, but kept my eyes on the prize. Or eyes on the punishment, more like. With us face to face again, I could feel the hot breaths emanating from his mouth and fanning against my face. He could feel my awaiting sex so close as well. Those dangerous eyes trailed from my exposed breasts to my still covered lower half leaving me feeling vulnerable under their piercing scrutiny. He was expecting me to continue my undressing and, subsequently, start riding him like usual. All I did was give him a smile.
“Need some help?” He asked lowly and gruffly. There was a gravel to his voice that brought back the urge once again. It was so close. No. I had a plan. I reserved the right to give my husband what he needs. Even if he doesn’t think he needs it. I gave a nod, unable to talk as his hot gaze stayed on my face. Wanting to ignore his commanding stare, I moved closer to his face. I knew something that he fell apart at. My damp lips pressed against the clammy skin of his cheek, adorning his scar with a kiss. I didn't stop at one, and softly placed a kiss all along his left cheek’s scar. The skin was smooth but raised, and I would imagine it was as sensitive as his neck. My assumption was proven right when he sucked in a sharp breath, held it, then let it out shakily. 
I could feel his hands squeeze at the damp skin on my thighs closest to my entrance before languidly sliding up to my silky gown. Suddenly, with what seemed like little to no effort, he grabbed both sides of my clothing and tore it in two along with my panties. The sound of the threads snapping so quickly had my breath catching in my throat. Pulling back from his cheek, his eyebrows were furrowed like he was angry, and he was. Angry at the built up sexual frustration and my teasing. Gradually, he sat up, making me quickly hug onto his neck and press my fully naked body to his chest. It didn't take long for our positions to be switched with me underneath Katakuri, and him huffing above me. His hands were quick to push down his pants more and tug them off of himself fully, but swiftly went back to caging me against the bed. 
“Do you need something, dear?~” I moved to an innocent facade, but I knew he saw right through me. I was excited and the way my legs wrapped around his waist and positioned his head at my awaiting entrance was proof of that. He didn't respond yet, and just moved his right arm above me to hold himself up as his left hand moved underneath my lower back to hold me tight. Not too tight to hurt me, but I couldn't hope to get out of his grip. Not that I wanted to.
“You want to take me whole? Want to make me feel good with your little needy hole? Is that what my pretty little wife wants?” Katakuri hardly ever talked dirty to me. Usually it was just praise and sweet talk as we took it slow, maybe the occasional innuendo. But this was him listening to my wants and his needs obliging. This new side of him had me half scared of the consequences and half begging for the pleasure. The duality wasn’t hard to choose between. He was standing on the wire, and all I had to do was blow him one way or another. This was probably my last chance to turn back.
“I need an answer, love. Tell me to stop.” His soft voice was begging me to tell him no. He was scared of hurting me still, even though he so clearly wanted to fuck me to his heart’s content. I had convinced a part of him to act on his wants for once. The sweet side of him that I was used to was barely holding back the ravenous animal that was clawing its way to the surface. All I could do was smile and put a hand to his clenched jaw as I raised my lips to his ear.
“Do what you want.~” A silent beat. Two. A deep, almost pained, groan erupted from my husband. Soon, my twitchy insides were being stretched to their limits. His impossibly hard cock was already halfway inside of me, bullying its way to my cervix. The suddenness knocked the breath out of me, but a gasping moan fell from my lips. I clenched hard around his member, telling him to continue. My efforts were met with a deeply pleasured moan from the giant man above me. Before now, Katakuri would have told me to stop here to keep me from hurting myself. That worry was nowhere to be seen now as his hips pulled back slowly only to snap forward once again, burying his cock deeper inside of me still. 
“Fuck! Oh my gosh, it's so good! Kata!” My words slurred together as the disarming pleasure rolled through my body like a riptide, sweeping my wits from under me. I never knew sex could feel this wild. My reactions to his movements reassured the part of him still worried about my well being, allowing him to more assuredly continue his pace. A steady rhythm was set, faster than one we’ve had before. His large hand encapsulating my waist moved me back and forth in sync with his hips. I felt like a ragdoll being used for his pleasure. Each deep pound felt like I was being split apart, but I could hardly keep up with every one as my head spun with pleasure. 
Katakuri was in no better state than I was, seemingly drunk on the bliss that fucking me like this brought. His face was buried in the pillow above my head, and I could hear him mumbling to himself. It was hard to pick up every word, but I could tell it was about how good he felt. The satisfaction of hearing him sound so lost in the pleasure only made every snap of his hips feel that much better. I explored his sweaty chest with my hands as my legs clung to his sides. One hand traveled up to his damp, magenta locks, raking their way up and down his scalp. This enticed him to lower his head from the pillow to my face and engage me in a sloppy yet passionate kiss.
I desperately sunk my fingers into his hair, holding him to me as we made out. I craved him, every last part of him I adored and I wanted all of him to be mine. Needy whines and whimpers of mine sounded into our kiss as I departed to talk. 
“Don't stop. Don't stop until you're satisfied. I love you so much, please, feel so good for me. You're so deep in me and I love it!~” The confident attitude I had earlier had dissipated in the face of Katakuri’s raw power, and now I just wanted to please my husband. His whole cock was almost fully sheathed inside of me every time his hips hit my thighs. My insides felt so gooey and stretched out already. I had already cum once, and everything was getting to be too much. We hadn’t gone this long before, and I wasn't used to the power of his full thrusts. 
Katakuri stared down at me, locked onto my blissed out face contorted erotically as I begged for him. That seemed to spur him up again, and I could feel a burst of love and sexual fervor rush from him to me. With renewed energy, he sat up on his knees, taking his member out of me. The emptiness I felt without him made me fuss and shake my hips in dissatisfaction. Without a word, I was flipped over onto my stomach and returned the fullness of my husband’s cock but from behind. His hot tip dragged along all the right places as he slid inside me again. Involuntarily, my eyes rolled back, and a loud groan escaped me. The same hand returned to its spot around my waist to hold me in place as Katakuri restarted his pace in this new position. 
This turn of events knocked the breath of me again, and I was left wheezing as he lay on top of me, pressing me into the bed with his hard chest at my back. Nails gripped the sheets, toes curled, but I couldn't let out a single word. I didn't have to because he began mumbling again, but this time in my ear so I could hear.
“I have such a beautiful wife. I'm so lucky to have you, I'm sorry I'm so selfish. It just feels so good, you feel so good. Thank you for letting me feel so good with you. I can't stop until I make you feel the best. I love you too, Y/N, I love you.” He continued to repeat snippets of that as he got sloppy with his thrusts. Despite the slower pace, each thrust slammed into my butt like a sledgehammer, bringing out my second orgasm. This one was more intense as tears sprouted to my eyes and my walls spasmed hard around his cock. The overstimulation left me a wreck as I blubbered out, “I'm cumming, cummin’, cumminggg!~” deliriously.
That was the last straw for Katakuri as he grunted loudly a few times before quickly pulling out and making a mess of my back with his own cum. Harsh breaths from both of us filled the muggy, sex smelling air of our room. It didn't take long for Katakuri to finish letting everything out, so soon he collapsed beside me on his back. We both took a good amount of time calming down from the heated sex we just had. I was fully satisfied, if not overly so, as I lay there covered in cum and with my orgasm leaking out of me. I could already feel my back hurting from the arch it was forced into by my lover's thrusts and weight, but none of that mattered. 
All that mattered was the dazed look of full satisfaction in Katakuri’s eyes as he came down from his high. He always held himself back when we had sex. This was the last wall he had up in front of me, that deep rooted fear of hurting me keeping him from entirely enjoying himself. I was grateful for the amount of vulnerability I was able to see from my paramount husband on a regular basis, but call me greedy because I wanted every last part of him on display for me. We were two very opposite people when it came to sharing our wants and needs, but as we’ve proved over the past three years, opposites attract.
“Can. . . we do that more?” Asked a meek Katakuri, his deep voice cutting through the silence. My face was buried in the mattress, but I turned it towards him with a lopsided smile. 
“I thought you'd never ask. Though, maybe next time we should use protection so you don't have to pull out.” I winked at him as his already red cheeks darkened. An embarrassed groan escaped him and he quickly got up to head to the bathroom. 
“I'm getting a towel for you and running a bath. Maybe once you're clean you'll stop instigating such dirty actions.” He grumbled, making me pout. I opened my mouth to retort, but he beat me to the punch.
“Don't say that unless you’re ready for the punishment.” 
Damn his future vision. With a huff, I stayed silent and just waited for my towel. For now. As I waited, my gaze drifted over to Katakuri’s nightstand. On it sat that dirty black hat that Strawhat put on his mouth after their battle. My eyes softened at the memento. I'd have to thank Strawhat one day for what he did for Katakuri. 
My antennae turned dusty pink.
And with that, This little unexpected mini series of my favorite mochi man ends.~ This won't be the last of him, but I have other wonderful characters that are calling my name.~ Thank you, dearies, and see you, hopefully, soon.~
Part 1 <- - Part 2 <- - Part 3
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mochinomnoms · 3 months
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Thinking about the Tweels parents reacted to them bringing home a partner, think of how excited mama Ashengrotto will be when Azul brings home his mate. After seeing Azul alone, depressed, and self-loathing for so many years, seeing him have the confidence to bring home his mate. If he is in his Merform she is even more thrilled. When she sees them comfort and hug him and allows Azul to cling to them she may faint. If/when they get married, you know she is throwing the biggest wedding reception in her restaurant. Yuu’s dress or tux, completely covered no matter the cost, all food, covered. She is just happy that her son found someone and Mr. Ashengrotto has to hold her back and keep her from squeezing Yuu to tight out of joy. She would also drop hints that she would be a great grandma and show you how cute Azul was in all his baby pictures.
Azul would probably die of embarrassment when his mom shows baby pictures and when they are finally alone (thanks to Azul’s Stepdad reminding her she has a Business to take care of) he finally relents:
“I’m sorry, she is just excited to meet you,” Azul has yuu curled in his many arms inside his octopot.
“Is she the reason you waited so long to introduce me to your parents?”
“Yes… also she has three books full of photos hidden in the house I can’t find and my step-father won’t tell me where they are. They just appear when guest come over and disappear when I try to burn them later.”
“Well, we are meeting your Grandma tomorrow so things should be better there!”
Azul groaned.
“More picture books?”
“Six books. I have no clue how she got half of those photos, I think she hired the tweels behind my back!”
She's so happy upon learning about Azul's partner. Ms Iris Ashengrotto is a sweet woman whose restaurant started from the bottom to become a renounced, exclusive dining experience that only the most wealthy, prim and proper folks under the sea could have the privilege of eating. It's why the Ashengrottos and the Leech family have worked together for so long, it makes a fine establishment for their… “business” deals. She's what we would equate to Gordon Ramsay, really: no-nonsense, with strict and high expectations in her kitchen. Similarly, she is oh so sweet with children, her own especially.
So it was a pain to watch Azul grow up so lonely, though she could never get him to tell her why. Iris assumed that it was due to bullying, most merfolk are not kind to cecaelias, but she couldn't go off and scare random children into not interacting with her son. Nor could she talk to their parents without knowing for sure if that was the case, or if her son was just naturally shy. It didn't help her worries when her son got skinner and skinner, thinking she didn't notice him look at his body in the mirror as he poked and prodded at what little fat remained on him.
She took comfort when the Leech parents sent their twins off to keep Azul company, though he didn't seem to warm up to them for quite some time. Even when he went to NRC with the twins, opening his own establishment, Iris was still concerned about him making friends. It's why she was so pleasantly surprised to hear from her son during his second year about his partner. He's shyly gushing about you to him, a magicless human that slithered their way into his locked up heart. With the way he describes you, like you hung the moon and starts, she's already planning a wedding in her head.
It takes some nudging after that to get him to bring you for a visit, but he eventually did over the summer break. Oh, she was delighted to see his limbs unconsciously curl around you, holding you close as you curled into him yourself. You were so cute! A sweetheart! A delight! A perfect child-in-law! Azul, please forgive her if she starts sobbing, but how else is a mother supposed to react when she sees her child gaze at someone with so much love in their heart?
The first day she's monopolized your time, feeding you and Azul all sorts of food and snacks, offhandedly mentioning that the two of you would have to fatten up a bit to give her health grandchildren. She had to withhold a laugh at Azul's mortified expression. Iris has several albums of baby and childhood pictures, eager to coo over how cute and chubby Azul was as a baby. Her son is sulking at the other end of the couch, but he still has a tentacle curled around your ankle, never leaving you for long.
It's when she's hiding away her album (one of three, Azul's destroyed many be she always has spares), that she overhears your conversation. Iris had stopped by his bedroom to let you two know that she needed to return to the restaurant, but instead quietly delighted at the sight of you two in his octopot. A cecaelia's octopot, hiding place, is a very private and intimate place. So seeing you, cradled in Azul's lap, as his many arms hold you close to him, makes her heart swell.
She decides to leave you two alone, taking one last peek as you giggle at a pouting Azul, before sharing a soft kiss. Iris is smiling at the sight, sighing as she can finally relax, knowing her son is going to be taken care of.
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mochiwrites · 3 days
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“Grian! Do you have a second to spare?” Scar calls out, poking his head into the entrance of the avian’s vertical mine.
Grian lifts his head up from the chest he had been rearranging. “It depends,” he teases, “are you gonna try to sell me some junk?”
Scar lets out an affronted gasp, jerking back with a hand on his chest. “Junk?! I sell only the finest quality of things!”
“Sure, sure,” Grian chuckles as he shuts the lid of the chest, leaning against it as he crosses his arms. “Then depending on what it is you want to show me, I have a second.”
Scar’s face brightens, those green eyes sparkling. “Great! There’s something I want to show you!” He takes a step closer to Grian, expression still bright — almost grossly fond.
“Oh?” Grian tilts his head to the side (an action that is far too birdlike, much to Scar’s amusement). “And that is?”
“Well I can’t just tell you! It’d ruin the surprise!” Scar retorts, scandalized. He takes another step closer until they’re a few inches apart, one of Scar’s hands settling on Grian’s hip. “Do you trust me?”
“What kind of question is that?” Grian lifts a brow, amused. “Not with my belongings. Everything else? Of course.”
“Great!” Scar grins at him before he leans in, brushing their noses together sweetly. The action startles Grian, as he jolts, mouth falling open as he looks up at the other with confusion.
“What?” He blinks.
“It’s a bunny kiss!” Scar cheerfully explains.
Grian’s face only pinches in further confusion. “A what kiss?”
“A bunny kiss!” the scarred man repeats. “We’re booping our noses together in a kiss! Cute right?” Scar’s happy smile doesn’t leave his face, looking more fond by the second.
There’s a burst of warmth in Grian’s chest at that, and he stares at Scar. “…do it again,” he requests, making Scar laugh.
He leans in once more, bumping his nose against Grian’s. Grian gently bumps his nose back, delighting in the pleased chuckle that sounds from Scar.
Bunny kisses may just be one of his new favorite things. Next to Scar, of course.
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harunovella · 2 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse v); s.g.
synopsis: it's utahime's birthday and you play spin the bottle... bonus, you're tipsy! content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, underage drinking, seven minutes in heaven (probs done wrong? idk), semi-first kisses, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: here's another one shot for my gojo anthology series! I found out it's utahime's birthday (2/18) so I managed to pull something together for this lil series (happy birthday utahime)! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!
"Happy birthday, Utahime!" Shoko exclaimed, wrapping an arm around the dark haired girl, clinking her beer with hers as the two chugged. There was an obvious buzz in the air, not only them, but everyone else. Mei Mei managed to get a private room where no one would question what was going on inside, seeing as some of the attendees were underage—yourself included. Your interest had always been piqued by it, this not being the first time your friends had beer around you. However, this was your first time having it... And you weren't the only one.
"Who would've thought you were a lightweight," Mei Mei piped as she nudged Gojo with her shoulder. "You never bothered to drink with us before, what's changed your mind?" Smirking at him, already knowing the answer, the older woman gazed at the white haired boy as his cheeks burned a bright pink. His eyes shifted in your direction—where you had been huddled up with the birthday girl and Ieiri. "Oh, trying to impress someone, huh?"
"Shut up," Gojo mumbled, rubbing his cheeks as his body slightly swayed. "I didn't want to be a party pooper..." Eyeing you as you laughed, Satoru felt his heart race faster than it ever had in his life. He blamed it on the alcohol. "It tastes like shit."
"Then why do you keep drinking it?" Geto asked, now settled beside his best friend. "You hate beer, the first time you tried it at Shoko's birthday was enough to stop you."
"It's because he's trying to impress little miss sweetheart over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. Suguru looked over, not surprised that he was doing this just to look cool in front of you. 
"She's not gonna care if you hate it, Satoru," Suguru nudged him. "This is her first time, too."
"That's exactly... why," Gojo hiccuped. "If she can do it, so can... I!" He nodded, lifting his bottle to take another swig. Instantly hissing at the taste, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head, Geto laughed beside him before patting his back. "I'm trying to find a way to enjoy this but, god it's aw—"
"Satoru!" You exclaimed, waving at him before stumbling over. Falling to your knees in front of him and smiling wide, waving your own bottle before him. "This is really good, right?" You asked, realizing he had chosen the same beer as you. 
"Y—" choking on his words, Suguru smacked his back. "Yeah! To— Totally!"
Giggling, you made your way beside him as Mei Mei crawled away to sit with the other girls. "This is so much fun... what a great party," you beamed, leaning your head on his shoulder. Gojo grew stiff, grip on the bottle tightening as his free hand clutched onto his knee. Geto sat there with a smug grin, an idea coming to mind as his focus shifted towards the empty bottles. 
"Hey, I've got an idea," he spoke up, moving onto his knees to grab an empty bottle. "Let's play spin the bottle, hmm?"
"Yes!" Utahime nodded, tugging on Shoko's sleeve and waving for Mei Mei to move over so they could form a circle. 
"That'll be fun!" You nodded after lifting your head from Gojo's shoulder, grabbing his wrist so he could join you. 
He wasn't sure if it was the liquid courage, or maybe he was hyper aware, but you were being more touchy with him. Normally, you kept things cordial, constantly smiling or laughing with him as he was the one finding ways to touch you... Now with the tables turn? His heart was basically at the pit of his stomach, slightly trembling as you sat practically thigh to thigh with him. 
"Okay, let's do truth or dare," Suguru said as he settled the bottle, "whoever it lands on has to answer. Got it?" Seeing everyone nodded, the dark haired man grinned as he eyed his best friend, who basically looked like he was disassociating from the world. 
"Let's go!" Utahime exclaimed before clapping. 
"Birthday girl has the honor," Suguru nodded as Utahime beamed before reaching over to spin the bottle. 
Everyone watched with curious eyes, and like that, one by one everyone took a turn to spin the bottle. Most answered with truth, only to earn an annoyed groan from Mei Mei saying how things need to change up. 
Spinning the bottle, Mei Mei smirked as it landed on Gojo, "truth or dare, blue eyes."
Gulping, he eyed everyone as they eagerly watched him. Sucking in a sharp breath, he sat up, "dare."
"Finally," Shoko mumbled as Utahime stifled her laughter. 
"Perfect, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with cutie over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. "No take me backs, get in there," she pointed at the tiny supply closet behind the two of you. Gojo looked over with hesitation as you blushed. 
"Okay!" You nodded, standing up and grabbing his hand to join you. 
He felt like he had no control over his body, following you along the way and nearly tripping over his own feet as you practically shoved him inside once opening the door. Watching as you followed inside, shutting the door behind you as you were pressed against one another, Satoru held his breath. Looking down at you with wide eyes as your own looked up at him, hooded, he felt his heart thudding against his ribcage. 
Pressing your hands against his chest, you smiled up at him. "We've got seven minutes in here..." you said. 
"You— you think they'll make us... stay that long in here?" He stuttered as you shrugged, only to shyly look away. 
"I hope so..." you admitted, nibbling on your bottom lip. 
Eyeing you and wanting nothing more than to touch you, Gojo clenched his fists at his sides before throwing his head back. His mind was racing, thoughts rushing around as he felt not only your hands on him, but your whole body. It took his entire being—and willpower—to fight the blood rushing towards a place it shouldn't be. Not in a moment like this. Even if it was meant for that. "You... Uh..."
"Hm?" You looked up at him as he lowered his focus to meet yours. 
"N— Nothing, heh..." he awkwardly looked away, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. 
"Satoru..." you spoke up. 
"Yeah?" He mumbled. 
"Please look at me..." you begged but he stubbornly kept his eyes on the wall beside him. "Toru..." you quietly spoke as the man shivered at the sound of his nickname. "Please..."
Feeling your hands snake their way up to his face, you gently turned his head to look at you. "I— I—"
"At a loss for words?" You tilted your head, teasing him as he blinked. "Can I kiss you?"
Feeling his heart sink as you gazed up at him with lazy eyes, Gojo took in deep breaths, "you— you want to... kiss me?" He asked, gulping. 
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to..." you nearly whispered, causing Satoru to shiver yet again. The feeling of your nails gently caressing his skin as you didn't bother to look away, Gojo squeezed his eyes shut. How were you being the bold one? How did you have the power to always turn him into mush? Sure, you had liquid courage, but even when you weren't tipsy you had him so easily wrapped around his finger! "Toru?"
"Yes," he nodded. 
"Yes... I can?" You asked as he nodded again. 
"Please..." he whispered, begging. He knew this wasn't the right time to get his first kiss from you (or ever) but he was so desperate and so needy. He should've said no, should've said another time. However, he was a teenage boy. He didn't entirely use common sense...
Tiptoeing as you tugged him down gently, hands moving to the back of his neck, your lips pressed against his. Feeling his heart in his throat as he gazed at your closed eyes, Gojo's shaky hands settled on your hips as he kissed you back, indulging in this (what felt like) once in a lifetime opportunity. Surely neither of you would never forget. 
"So, how was it?" Shoko asked as she sat beside you on a bench, enjoying a pair of strawberry milk boxes during your break from training. 
"How was what?" You tilted your head. 
"Your seven minutes in heaven with Satoru," she chuckled, only to earn a confused look from you. "Y'know, last night?"
"Seven minutes in heaven with Satoru?" You asked as she nodded. "I don't remember that..."
tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)
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