#they’re getting a bit TOO cocky if you ask me

[mrsbridgerton]

we have 54 days left of this year and we have no update on s3

#can they end the strike pls #I JUST WANNA SEE MY MAN BENEDICT OK #I hate them all #one year since s2 and nearly 3 years from s1 #wHAT A JOKE #not even a fucking teaser trailer OR CRUMBS #they’re getting a bit TOO cocky if you ask me #bridgerton #bridgerton s2 #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #daphne basset #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #penelope featherington #polin

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts (update: part two is now out!! linked here 2 read) and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 ;)

#kami writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo x reader angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n

[satoruhour]

悟

a/n:a repost from my old blog ♡ / contains one sex joke / 0.9k

“satoru, come to bed, it’s late,” yawning, you pat the space beside you. he’s doing his nightly skincare routine, patting his face gently with the retinol serum he just bought.

“ya sure you don’t want to try it out?” gojo offers out the dropper, a hairband cutely pushed up to prevent his bangs from interfering.

“i don’t like slimey stuff on my face.” and you cringe, realising your mistake too late.

“and yet you give me your face to cu—”

“shut the fuck up,” you severely miss him, pillow landing on the floor beside him. he didn’t even bother to activate his technique, laughing out loud at your failed attempt.

gojo never did switch it on when he was with you. not when he decided that he’d give his all to you, not even he asked you to move in with him on a desperate full of nightmares, not when you first said i love you.

gojo satoru was soft around you, a sight that many would like to see yet only disclosing it to you. the you who got him falling when you’d hang out with his students, giving as much pointers as you could on cursed energy. that was when he decided, he’s sure. but again, there were countless other times where gojo recalls falling deeper and deeper in love with you. he smiles at that, capping the skin care bottle before quite literally jumping onto the bed.

“argh... satoru, what the hell? you’re heavy!” his weight was crushing you, emphasised more when he leans down to plant kisses on your features. the feigned anger turns to giggling and shielding hands which he easily seizes between his fingers.

“s-stop! ’toru!” your smile is like the first few hues of dusk. it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something the strongest normally wouldn’t have the luxury of feeling. satoru says, fuck it, because even i deserve love, even i deserve to be held. he repeats those words you said to him the first time he broke down in front of you, and he does it all the time, now.

gojo is brought back to reality when you cup his cheeks gently, not minding the slimey stuff as you caress his skin. your hands accommodate his smile, cheeks filling up with how he’s grinning down at you and you feel dizzy with the immense love you have for him.

“you’re insanely beautiful, satoru,” you say it like it wouldn’t boost his ego, but you can’t care much when that much is true, noticing how much his hair resembles starlight and how his azure eyes catch the moonlight so perfectly.

gojo could say the same about you.

he sucks in a breath when he hears the compliment, the familiar cocky smirk and corny line lingering on his lips — he figured it’s just different when the words come from you.

“say it again.”

“hm? you’re beautiful, terribly b—” your mouth parts in surprise when the other lowers himself to your side, which prompts you to lie on your lone shoulder.

“no, my love, i meant my name.” gojo pulls you closer, lighting your skin with flames.

“oh! okay! uhm, sa— toru?” you giggle, the name falling weirdly from your lips now that you were demanded to say it. you try again, “satoru.”

your lover smiles, scooting closer, “again.”

“satoru.” the syllables leaving your lips makes him feel dizzy and giddy. while he enjoys being told his voice sounds like silk and syrup, he finds that it fits you better, bringing his face to rest only inches from yours.

“again.”

“satoru,” you whisper, a shy smile overtaking your lips. soon, they’re captured by gojo’s, moving tenderly against yours. you’re certain you see the sky painted in many different colours before your eyes close, the mere thought of gojo sending you reeling and cheeks flushing.

gojo’s kisses are slow tonight, savouring every part of your mouth before he slips his tongue in, entwining with yours as he continues to make you fall harder. it works. breathlessly, you smile into the kiss to hopefully get a bit of air, feeling the reply of a grin on your lips when his irises open up to look at yours.

“love you.” you murmur, ghosting along his lips before he smashes his lips against yours again, albeit clumsily that you two let out collective laughs.

people only ever call him gojo satoru, the strongest. he’s never found much identity, always a pawn for the higher-ups to play with, but when sa-to-ru falls from your lips? god, he can compare it to being caught in cupid’s arms. you give meaning to his name — satoru, satoru, satoru, you whisper, knowing that it meant enlighten, and he’s certain that’s all you do whenever you’re around.

you’re always lighting up his life, always loving him with no restraint.

“angel?” gojo whispers in between kisses. you respond sleepily, tracing incoherent patterns along his chest. the words are caught in his throat when you fingers go over the 悟 of his name, three syllables packaged into a single character. he didn’t expect you to remember, but it breathes some life back into him when you do it over his heart. he can’t remember the last time he let someone trace his name so intimately.

“your first name is beautiful, satoru, just like you,” you peck his lips. “now rest, you have a long day tomorrow.”

“i love you too,” the other replies a little late. his heart clenches up at the sight of you, caged and safe in his arms that he isn’t sure what to do with his hands. “i love you. i love you. i love you so much.”

with one last lingering kiss, you both succumb to slumber in peace, with gojo satoru’s first name in the palm of your hand, and his last name aching to take its place in front of your own.

#writing sounds a little different bc it’s from last year !!!! #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk scenarios #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader

[yoon-kooks]

seven tattoos later | jjk

🐰pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x tattooartist!reader

🐰genre: fluff, smut

🐰summary: if the hottest fuck boy in town made it a point to visit your little tattoo studio every week, how many tattoos would it take to make you fall in love with him?

🐰word count: 3.3k

🐰warnings: unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, sex on the couch, doggy, hes big and rough, lip tattoos, hickeys, lil bit of drinking, hes so annoying in this im so sorry

As you close up for the night, you look out the window and count at least four couples out for a dog walk. It’s past eight, but still warm and bright out. It’s like the sun never stops shining. Summer sucks like that.

Maybe you’d appreciate the sun a little more if you had a puppy to walk or at least a handsome guy friend to drag you outside so you aren’t just rotting away in your empty tattoo studio on a Friday night. Everyone’s apparently on vacation or getting married in Hawaii or something, so work’s been exceptionally slow this week. Fuck summer.

It’s lonely.

You might even miss Jeon Jungkook, the last person you ever expected to get along with. The first time he walked into your studio, he didn’t waste any time in hitting on you and making it painfully obvious. You were convinced he only walked in and got a tattoo that day because he thought you’d be an easy lay. 

That was around two months ago.

“What do you think would look good on me?” he’d asked while scrolling through your portfolio. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to take in his good looks, imagine the carved out physique beneath that leather jacket. That’s what guys like him do. And he was far from the first male client to ask you that. He wasn't special.

“I don’t know, maybe like a bunny or a duckling?” You just said the first things that came to mind—your two favorite animals. You didn’t give a flying fuck about what design would actually look good on someone you’d just met. Your icy heart definitely doesn’t warm up to people that quickly no matter how hot they are.

“Bunnies are cute,” he said without hesitation. You swear he was staring right at the dainty bunny tattoo on your collarbone. Then he tapped the top of his left hand, the one without all the other tattoos. “I’ll take one right here.” 

At the time, you didn’t think he was serious. (He was serious.)

“So, for touch-ups and stuff, it’d probably be good if I had your number, yeah?” he asked, leaning against the counter and admiring the final product on his hand. Him and his cocky ass smile. It’s annoying how hot he is. Unfair, too.

After inputting your number into his phone, you needed to make one thing very clear: “Send me a dick pic and I’ll tattoo all of your exes’ names on your forehead.”

“I promise no dick pics,” he chuckled. He must’ve taken your threat as a cute little joke. “But I would like to take you out sometime.”

For a moment, you just stared at his handsome face. Everything about him was bright and shiny. His pretty eyes, the art wrapped around his arm, that confident smile. The sun had nothing on him.

But the thing is, you knew better than to trust guys like him. They’re always saying shit they don’t mean. And you were tired of being let down by those empty words.

What would make Jeon Jungkook any different from the fuck boys who’ve burned you in the past?

You didn’t know enough about him to answer that question, but you also weren’t willing to get to know him.

It was for the best.

So after you politely declined the invitation, the boy nodded, waved farewell, and jogged out the door. At least he was decent enough to accept his fate and move right along. (He wasn’t.)

Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of him, he spun around. “See you next week for the touch-up, Y/N.”

He was still smiling like an idiot. You didn’t understand why.

“You’re not gonna need a touch-up in a week,” you shouted back as he dashed off. Fast little fucker. You doubt he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. With all those other tattoos, he already knew how touch-ups worked.

Besides, what were the odds of him showing his pretty face again after rejection? Every other client you turned down never came back. Not even for a touch-up.

You didn’t believe for a second Jeon Jungkook would be back.

A week later, he proved you wrong and waltzed right back in like you never rejected his ass. Of course he did. The week after that, he had three of your designs etched into his hand. And he just kept coming back for more, week after week.

Somewhere along the way, you learned he’s a wedding photographer, an artist like you. He’s shown you his photos a few times even after you specifically said you hate weddings. The photos were gorgeous, though. As much as weddings make you want to gag, the sweet moments he captured had the reverse effect. Somehow, you were envious of what those couples had.

You’ve also overcome the impossible task of learning to tolerate his dumb humor. It’s probably because his laugh and smile are so contagious. He won’t stop running his mouth until he sees you smile either, especially when you’re having a bad day. Your cheeks hurt whenever he’s with you.

Fast forward two months and he now has a total of seven of your tattoos. It feels weird not seeing him this week, not breathing in his woodsy cologne, not leaving your mark on his perfect skin. But you suppose that’s just what happens when the guy who’s been annoying the shit out of you suddenly goes to Hawaii. The withdrawal symptoms are kicking in. 

Your world is a whole lot quieter. It’s peaceful for once. And yet, you miss that chaotic idiot. 

Fuck summer. Fuck people who get married in Hawaii.

Your phone buzzes just as you finish cleaning up. Hopefully it’s someone who wants to book an appointment. (It’s not.)

When you read “jungcock,” you roll your eyes with the faintest smile—the perfect example of your clashing feelings for the boy.

jungcock🥴 [8:24PM] “Got time for me tonight?🫦”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “arent you supposed to be in hawaii rn?”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “and dont use that emoji ever again”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “I’d never choose Hawaii over you😌”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “(They called off the wedding)”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “🫦”

[8:25PM] [jungcock🥴 is now blocked]

[8:31PM] [You’ve unblocked jungcock🥴]

jungcock🥴 [8:31PM] “Is that a yes?”

Y/N🐰 [8:31PM] “i hate you a lot”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “Hear me out”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “What if😳👉👈 I brought snacks?”

Y/N🐰 [8:34PM] “fine”

You groan and shove your phone back into your pocket. Sometimes you wonder how you let this dork finesse his way into your life. Where did you go wrong?

Jungkook arrives at your studio ten minutes later with your favorite peace offerings—soju and pancakes. Ah yes, this is how he finessed his way to the top.

“Ooh snacks,” you hum as if you didn’t believe in his ability to pick something up on the way over. “What kind of pancakes did you get?”

“Your favorite, obviously,” he nods, handing you the warm box and a fork. There’s something about the way he crosses his arms, as though he’s just waiting to catch your reaction when you open it. Why does he look so fucking proud of himself?

“I never told you my favorite pancakes.” You raise a brow. The only thing you told him was your favorite pancake place. But they have like a million different options, ranging from classic (blueberry and chocolate chip) to fancy (tiramisu and that edible gold stuff). There’s no way he can magically guess your favorite pancake.

“Just open it.” He gives you his idea of a “playful shove” on the shoulders, which would’ve knocked you over with the pancakes if he hadn’t grabbed a hold of your wrist. He was definitely that annoying kid on the playground who chased around all the girls he had a crush on.

You mumble on about him being too rough as you open the box. To your surprise, it’s strawberries and whipped cream drenched in red syrup on top of a fat stack of pancakes—aka your favorite pancakes.

You look up from the mountain of strawberries and tilt your head at the boy like a confused puppy.

“I asked the waitress with the purple hair what you normally order,” he explains.

“Okay, but she doesn’t know me by name. How’d you describe me to her?”

He takes a few steps closer until you get a whiff of that woodsy cologne you missed so much. You feel the tips of his fingers trace along your collarbone. He’s not so rough anymore. In fact, the warm caress just barely grazes your skin, as if to tease your body. You’ve always lowkey looked forward to that tiny bit of warmth while working on his tattoos. Maybe he’s always been aware.

“I called you a cutie with a bunny tattoo.” His nose scrunches when he smiles this time, giving your skin one last poke. “She knew it was you when I showed her the one on my hand.”

Of course Jeon Jungkook walked into your favorite pancake place pretending to be your boyfriend. Of course he did something as embarrassing as showing off what appears to be matching tattoos. All for the sake of bringing you your favorite pancakes on an otherwise shitty summer night.

“Now she’ll think we have matching tattoos,” you say softly, shoving his chest. “How am I supposed to show my face in there ever again?”

“Hey, I don’t have a problem with the whole matching tattoos thing.” He puts his hands up to protect his chest from your wrath in case you’re feeling feisty. “I’ll just pick it up for you again.”

You’re not feeling feisty, so you give the boy a thumbs-up and bring him over to the couch in the back corner of the studio where you usually eat or take naps.

At long last, you stab a piece of pancake and strawberry and coat it in whipped cream before shoving it into your mouth. It’s delicious. “Is it mean if I say I’m glad the Hawaii wedding was canceled?”

“Because you’d be lonely without me here?” he teases.

“No, it’s because you bought me free pancakes, you simp,” you grin, handing off the fork to the simp so he too can get a taste of heaven. He passes you the soju in return even though you’re already feeling a little giggly.

“It’s not free,” he denies. “I’m supposed to be here for another tattoo, remember?”

After a tiny sip, you set the green bottle aside and grab Jungkook’s hand with both of yours. It looks so silly with all your tattoos surrounding the cute little bunny in the middle. He’s silly for letting you do that to him.

“I don’t think there’s any more room on your hand for another one,” you giggle. “Where am I gonna tattoo you next?”

You wonder how many tattoos he has under his clothes. Maybe he’s already got them all over the place. Then, eventually, his body will run out of space and you won’t be able to tattoo him anymore. That would suck. You kinda like his company.

“What about a lip tattoo?” you chirp, tapping on his lower lip with your index finger. When he doesn’t swat you away, you tug down on his lip ring to check for a hidden tattoo there. Nothing. “I have one.”

“You do?” His eyes immediately fall on your red strawberry lips. You pull down your lower one for him to see tiny black letters that read “bad girl.”

“My ex did it. I was supposed to tattoo ‘bad boy’ on his lip, but he chickened out,” you shrug. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Wait, I thought you can’t stand matching tattoos?” He’s such a good listener. Boyfriend material.

“I didn’t have anything against them up until that point,” you hum as you play with his wavy hair. The perm is cute on him. “But that’s basically when my perspective changed.”

That’s when you lost faith in men. When you grew to hate the idea of marriage. When you started rejecting every guy who approached you, even if he was half as hot as Jeon Jungkook.

“Well fuck your ex,” he frowns. Yeah, fuck him. No, wait. Your ex isn’t the one you want to fuck right now. “You’ve convinced me. The next tattoo I’m getting is a lip tattoo.”

“Got any design ideas for what you want there?” You climb into his lap, cup his chin with one hand, and play with his lip piercings some more. You’ve never been this up close and personal with Jungkook, but you like it. You can already feel his cock hardening beneath you through your leggings.

“Your lips,” he says without hesitation. Cheesy, but you’ll take any excuse right now to close the gap between you and him.

Just like that, something clicks in your body, and your lips just find their way to his. You’re not sure how much of it is alcohol and how much is your actual feelings for the boy, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when the kiss tastes like strawberry pancakes. It’s perfect.

You throw your arms over his shoulders as he kisses back. He’s already got his hands slipped up the back of your little tank top. 

Your hips start to roll against him.

“Should we close the blinds?” he asks against your lips. “Unless you like an audience.”

You glance at the window. The sun is finally going down, but of course people are still walking their dogs. Maybe they didn’t get the memo that it’s officially fucking hours, not dog walking hours.

Normally, you’d be all for closing the blinds and turning out the lights, but your ass is nice and comfy in his lap and you’d rather not change that. Plus the back of the couch should hide 90% of what’s going on.

You shed your tank top off and toss it onto the coffee table next to the unfinished pancakes. His big eyes flick to your lacy black bralette. 

“Let them watch.” You press your lips into his neck and suck away like a vampire. The hickeys you’re about to leave him with will have to make do as temporary tattoos for now. You’re not gonna have time to tattoo him tonight.

“You sure you want people to see you so desperate and needy like this?” he asks as you wiggle out of your leggings. His hands immediately find your ass and give it a good squeeze.

“I’m not needy,” you whine, your naughty hand feeling how large his cock is through his joggers.

“I think you’re pretty needy, Y/N.” Two fingers slip past your thong and spread the wet lust between your legs. He has the biggest smirk on his face as your body squirms to his touch. You do everything in your power to hold back a gasp. “Do you want me to fuck you that badly?”

Yes, but you’re not going to admit it. Ever.

“No way,” you answer with confidence. He helps you out of his lap and you let him prop you up on your hands and knees so he can get a good look at your ass. “This is just my way of thanking you for the pancakes since we both know you aren’t getting that lip tattoo tonight.”

“The lip tattoo can wait.” You feel your thong drop to the couch where it belongs. Two very strong hands hold you at the waist. “You’re my number one priority tonight.”

As he fills you with his cock, you’re already melting to the heat between your legs. Your weak little arms lose all their strength. You reach for your fluffy white cloud pillow to muffle your moans and let him do all the work from behind.

The tight hold he has on you is a mix of possessiveness and all the sexual tension built up over the past two months. You wonder how many times he thought about bending you over and fucking you silly in the midst of getting a cute little frog tattoo. You’ve seen the way his lustful eyes look at you during his appointments. You’re not that oblivious.

“Nice ass tattoo, by the way.” He pinches the bit of skin with two pink butterflies. You’d always regretted that one because not everyone shares the same appreciation for it, but that tiny love pinch made it all worth it. “You and your cute little tattoos.”

He slides in and out, pounding your deepest spot, and drawing a pathetic whimper from your throat every few seconds. Doesn’t help that he has a finger or two rubbing away at your swollen little clit. That’s when you realize you’ve been missing out on amazing sex for far too long. Seven whole tattoos. That’s how long it took before you gave in.

He’s already rougher now than the playful shove that nearly knocked you over earlier. Good.

This is exactly what you need after such a boring work week.

“What would you be doing now if I were taking wedding pictures in Hawaii?” His voice is getting breathier. He’s working hard out there.

“Gagging at all the romantic shit you’d be sending me.” Even if he weren’t physically there with you, you know he’d still find a way to be annoying. He’d let you know he’s still thinking of you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you gag tonight.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s got that dumb smirk on his face. “Maybe another time. If you’re into that.”

Your response is a soft moan into the pillow. The thought of his cock shoved down your throat isn’t as repulsive as you would’ve thought two months ago. Giving head isn’t usually your thing, but you’re open to trying it with him. You’re glad he can’t see you lick your lips.

He doesn’t slow down either, instead picking up the pace and going harder. Your fingers dig into the pillow, your whole body dripping in pleasure. It feels too good.

“Mm, Jungkook,” you pant like a poor puppy with your ass up in the air. Your little clit can’t take much more of his fingers. You’re so close.

“Thought you couldn’t stand me,” he teases as you tighten around him. He’s so annoying! During sex, too. “And now you’re about to cum for me?”

“Fuck you,” you gasp as the wave of pleasure passes through you. His fingers and cock help you ride out the high. He’s lucky he’s a sweet guy with a strong sex game. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fallen for his annoying ass.

As soon as he pulls out, he flips you onto your back, staring down at you with his cock in hand. A few extra pumps along his length is all he needs to get his release and drizzle your belly with his creamy glaze.

He climbs over you to give you a soft peck on the lips. You’ve been with a lot of fuck boys before, but you can’t remember any of them kissing you once the sex was done and over with.

This boy is different.

He lets you lie there, basking in the afterglow as he searches the studio for a clean towel. When he finally gets ahold of one, he offers a hand to help you sit up and gets you cleaned up.

“All jokes aside, I’m happy you were here tonight,” you say in a tiny voice. “Fuck Hawaii weddings.”

He chuckles in his usual adorkable way. “You should come to a wedding with me sometime—when I’m not working, of course. Maybe you won’t hate them as much as you think.”

You lean in for another kiss. There’s still a hint of pancake on his tongue, but it's even sweeter. “Sure.”

The corners of his lips curve upward in satisfaction. The annoying little shit is about to jump out. You can feel it. (The annoying little shit does not jump out.)

“Now finish your pancakes,” he smiles. For once, it’s not him looking all smug and shit. And it’s really endearing.

Somehow, he just keeps proving you wrong. In a good way.

You look at your favorite pancakes on the table and wave them off. “Nah, I’m good.” Once more, you scoot your ass onto him and press a finger to his lip. “I think I like the taste of you better.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook tattoo #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts fuck boy au #seven tattoos later

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 2. A dream of life

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: a bit of voyeurism

— WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk

The best art imitates life in a compelling way. If it imitates a dream, it must be a dream of life. — Darwi Odrade

She confessed with regret that she did not, in fact, have one of those pain boxes. A Gom Jabbar was available in the palace and in fact was in the Harkonnen's possession as far as she knew, but that was just a poisoned needle tipped with meta-cyanide. What he was after was the… active part of the humanity test. That was only at the disposal of those sisters qualified to carry it out.

She was certain Feyd would do away with her once she explained how and why she didn’t have what he was after and prepared herself internally for death. But it never came. He paused in thought and nodded, and his cool eyes moved away from her with a shadow of sadness to them. Then he turned around, his broad shoulders clad in black exposed to her, and walked toward the table.

“You will come with me.”

He picked up a shigawire reel and shoved it in a compartment of his suit, a small pocket at the side of his chest, then walked right by her on his way out of the room. She followed obediently.

The palace was quiet, free of the usual fuss that filled it during the day — servants scrambling, scraping like traumatised automatons just trying to survive — but as they walked past the way she came she heard a violent sound from the direction where her old room was. They’re destroying my things, she realised.

Her eyes turned to Feyd-Rautha’s back once more, the smooth black of his clothes and white of his skin, and she wondered what plans he had for her. Would he be more subtle with his killing than his brother was, or… more creative? Would she be able to use the stunning word and paralyse him in time to get away? Would she have to kill him instead?

“Am I going too fast for you?” he asked over his shoulder. It was not an honest question, as she could tell from the smile in his voice.

“No?”

“Funny. I can hear you breathing.”

She bit her lip and glared at the back of his head.

They passed from the most shadowed places of the palace into the well-lit ones where snow-white lamps hung in the air. There were more guards in this area too, and she gradually realised they weren’t going to the prisons. They were going to his quarters.

“After you,” he said, stopping in front of a jaundiced pair of double doors guarded on each side by armed guards as still as statues.

She looked up at him warily as she stepped forward. He was still smiling in that cocky, boyish way, but something was incongruent. His awkward pose — not quite facing her, not quite to the side — the bent of his back as if he tried to make himself seem shorter, his arms somewhat aimless at his sides… He was trying to be polite and he didn’t know how.

She stepped inside. His room was nothing like what she imagined. The natural pale yellow of the Arrakeen stone gave it a softness that was at odds with the black linens on the massive bed. Moonlight streamed from the twin window slits on the opposite wall, and on the smooth tables lay an array of little boxes, pots, and cases left half-opened. There was a scent of ink there that cut through the modest smell of disinfectant. He’d only just moved in… He hadn’t had a chance to make the place his own yet.

As she analysed these new surroundings, Feyd stepped in and the doors closed behind them, leaving them alone. The palace seemed all the more distant now.

“My lord na-Baron?”

“Hm?” he muttered as he walked right past her, going to place something inside a drawer by the bed — the shigawire reel.

“W-what… what would you have me do?”

“You can do whatever you like.”

Her eyes slid toward the door. “Can I leave?”

She didn’t expect him to say ‘yes’, but she expected even less what he said next.

“Leave?” he chuckled, looking at her over his shoulder. “Where would you go? You’re my Bene Gesserit now.”

And he continued preparing himself for the night as if it was the most normal of circumstances. A part of her, the most human part, felt offended, but from the periphery of her mind, her training whispered to her what was really going on.

Feyd-Rautha kept his back turned and his attention on the objects in his possession — diskettes of reports he sorted for later reading, the daggers at his belt, the signet ring around his finger — and he spoke to her most dismissively and distantly. He was treating her like a stray cat he had just found and brought into his bedroom. Now he was letting her explore her new home, but he still did not dare to look at her directly, to watch her as openly as he desired. In his every move, however casual, there was nervous self-awareness. Completely opposite to how confident he’d been before he met her.

She’d served the Fenrings before, and the Atreides after them, but until now she had never quite felt owned. Still, if it was a kitten the Harkonnen wanted, that was what she would provide.

Without addressing him, she stepped sideways and turned, letting her posture loosen. Her head tilted back in a light stretch to relieve the tension of expecting death. She moved in a wide arch, slow steps, small sounds, while her fingers traced the surface of the wall for no reason in particular, just to absorb its texture.

“Why do you want me?” she asked in a low and silky voice. Seduction seldom failed with arrogant young men.

“I told you,” answered Feyd rather too quickly, his head bowed as he pretended to clean one of his blades.

“You’ve never had a Bene Gesserit of your own…”

“And it’s about time to have one.”

“Would the Baron approve?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, finally looking up at her. He smiled at the sight of her slinking across the room, dark dress trailing behind her. “Things can change, even in House Harkonnen.”

She paused mid-step to smile back at him. “Changes awaken something in us…”

He gave a noncommital hum and started walking to her, his head tilted in a thoughtful way.

“What sort of things do they teach you?” he asked. “At your… Bene Gesserit school?”

“Many things,” she said with an inviting tone. “Control of the self, the mind, the body… Understanding of history. Political strategy.”

Feyd came to a stop before her, a trepidation into his step. He walked until he cornered her in a darkened divot of the room. Standing a full head taller, he looked down into her eyes.

“What do you want to know?” she whispered.

He frowned, that strange smooth brow ridge wrinkling quite innocently, and his eyes betrayed transparent thoughts. He didn’t know what he wanted to know, but he knew he wanted something.

“What does… a Bene Gesserit do?”

“That depends on what our master wishes.”

“But what do you usually do?”

“We teach. We advise. When asked, we serve.”

“Did Paul Atreides have one?”

“Yes. His mother, Lady Jessica.”

The hints of jealousy were faint. There wasn’t much to envy in the dead… But he looked at her with that strange look in his eyes again, that speck of a little boy lost, and something in her instinctively wanted to cup his cheek, to pet him, and hold him close. She did not doubt that something inside of him wanted it too, and her body was just responding to the subconscious observation.

“Can you kill?” he asked.

“If I have to.”

“And have you?”

“Not yet.”

“In that way, I’m better than you, Bene Gesserit,” he chuckled.

And suddenly, his hand came up to grip the back of her neck. She was startled by how quick the movement was, how his body gave no tells that he would make it. A true predator. He pulled her closer, strong fingers tightening against her nape, pressing her against him. Beneath his armour, the plates of his body were strong. Every feminine part of her responded with a cascade of lust — not at the hidden hint of beauty but at the symbol of his pride. He wasn’t just a pampered princeling living through his allotted years of beauty. He brought his body to the peak of its potential. The motion pulled the veil off her head, and his eyes went to her soft mane of hair. His grip stayed firm, but his gaze traversed this new part of her as if it were a landscape, with hills and dales and quiet streams, all flowing down.

“Na-Baron,” she whispered, hand coming up to grip his wrist.

“Shut up,” he said, blue eyes still focused on her hair. “Go to sleep.” And then he let her go.

He turned from her and walked away with the energy of someone ready to run off — but there was nowhere for him to go, and his steps slowed. She watched him as she rubbed the sore back of her neck, watched how his head bowed for a moment as if he’d just woken up, how he walked toward the large square bed, how he started taking his clothes off…

He was a strange sight indeed. A broken psyche that reflected the duality present in his features — cold and frightful, soft and gentle, brutal but not so much from the absence of affection as from the presence of cruelty on top.

“Where shall I sleep?”

“Hm? Oh…” He looked around as if only just considering that fact. “Whenever you like,” he said, giving up quickly on thinking about it. “But here, in this room. You don’t get out of my sight, little witch. Not until I decide I can trust you.”

He pulled the layers of clothes off. First the armour on his back and shoulders, then the belt around his hips, and the second skin of the black suit that hugged his body.

“And… what shall I wear to bed?”

He paused and turned to look at her. His chest was as white as his face, but strong and chiselled, far less delicate. It shone with the sweat of a long day beneath the yellow light.

“Wear?” he rasped, his lips twisted in a quizzical smile. “Why should you wear anything?”

She settled for sleeping in a chair in a corner of the room. Feyd had gone to sleep completely naked, and he’d not been shy of parading his body around. She watched without fear, without shame, taking note of all the ways his muscles worked, the stretch and give of the skin, the scent of sweat, of blood.

Noting how much he seemed to like her hair, she did not cover it again, and after he fell asleep she quietly took the top layer of her clothing off. The Harkonnens were used to having their servants quite exposed, but she was not about to give him cause to think that that was what she was. If she wanted to survive, she had to walk the tightrope of perception. She had to be above him, as well as below. A knowledgeable Bene Gesserit sister, with all the guileless charm of a kitten.

She remained in her shift, a long grey piece held up by two thin straps, and used her dress as a blanket. She did now sleep but instead pretended to as she entered a state of Prajna meditation.

The secret pathways out of the room became known to her, faint currents invisible to the conscious mind. A spy hole existed in the western wall, covered on both sides by thin material. To the north, a doorway with no handle led into another room. Beyond it, sounds of restless sleeping. Three figures — feminine? Outside, the guards stood watch, but one was close to sleeping.

She was almost at the point where exhaustion caught up with her too, and like a slow receding wave her meditation ended. Her body lay relaxed and limp, head resting on her shoulder, hands folded. But with the last thread of her extended senses, she caught the taste of struggle in the room. Rapid heartbeat, frantic breathing, shifting eyes behind closed lids. Feyd-Rautha was dreaming.

Soundlessly, she slid off the chair and left her dress on it. The floor beneath her naked feet was cold as ice, it made her want to shiver, but she maintained control of every muscle as she walked toward the bed. Feyd’s body was twisted in the silken sheets, twitching, tense. Jolts disturbed his restful state as if in his mind he tried to get away from something. She could almost see the phantom trace of touches on his skin.

He slept on his front, arms thrown above his head, legs spread. His tossing made the sheets slip off his back to reveal a taut, tense expanse that ended in soft cheeks. Beneath them, the faintest hint of hairless, purpling swells and a limp length. He was so vulnerable…

As she got closer, she could hear him mutter words in a foreign language. Was that what they spoke on Giedi Prime? She could make out influences of galactic language all the way to those of the old Earth, but it was just enough to only guess what he was saying. The tone, nevertheless, was clear. He’s afraid, she thought.

She crouched at the edge of the bed where his naked foot hung off the side, her brow crested with worry. He was dangerous, she dared not touch him, and however much she wanted to wake him as a simple human kindness she wanted even more to see where his nightmares led.

With a long and frightful wail muffled by the pillows, Feyd dragged his strong beautiful body upwards, curling like a snake. He pulled his knees up to his chest and started shaking. Every now and then, his foot would kick. The sign of running in a dream. The whiteness of his body, pure and pale as chalk, the hairlessness of even his masculine parts, it made him look so fragile, so defenceless. A fascinating specimen. To think, the step just before the Kwisatz Haderach would look like that...

She let her body fall down to the floor and propped herself against the mattress, her cheek upon the bed. And she watched him, following the shadow of his dreams, for as long as the night went.

#Feyd #Feyd Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd Rautha #Dune #Dune part 2 #Dune fanfiction #Dune imagine #Feyd Rautha x reader #Feyd x reader #Feyd Rautha fanfic #Feyd Rautha imagine #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;littledeath

[rissouu]

+ synopsis: you make the mistake of pissing the wrong fushiguro off in public.

+ note: we’re gonna pretend they’re all fucking friends for the sake of this.. okay?? toji is toxic in this ngl, and baby let me just warn you.. second hand embarrassment at the end.

you and toji hadn’t been exclusive yet, and any chance he got, he’d remind you of it. to him, you were nothing but a toy, nothing but something for him to use and toss away whenever he pleased, yet here he was pissed off at all the attention you were getting.

both of you had been at a dinner gathering with his friends and co workers — of course you were forced to go as usual. he didn’t want to put a label on what you guys had and yet here he was acting like he was your significant other?

“you look so lovely in your dress y/n, sadly you’re here with toji..” gojo spoke, purposely trying to rile his friend up like old times. you wondered if you should thank him or not, but it was a compliment after all. it would be rude not to say thank you.. right?

you reluctantly smiled before replying in such a small tone, gojo almost couldn’t hear you. “thanks so much, i really appreciate it.” you tried to ignore the death glare toji was sending the both of you, but it was hard to do so when his hand crept beneath the table and pinched your thigh.

“gojo, shut up. and please, learn how to be respectful” nanami groaned, grabbing his handkerchief from his back pocket and using it to wipe away any bits of food left on his mouth.

gojo waved him off before looking back in toji’s direction, only to be met with the same scowl as before. “boy you have gots to chill! y’know i’m only fuckin’ around.”

toji rolled his eyes at the man’s cocky way of apologizing — he was clearly still annoyed. annoyed with the way his friend dared to flirt with you— right in front of his face, and you had the audacity to flirt back— right in front of his fucking face. though all you did was say thank you, he still saw it as flirting.

at this point you could tell he was steaming with rage. it wasn’t hard to figure it out with the way his hand was spread flat across your thigh, harshly squeezing your skin.

his grip on you becoming more painful by the second, but surprisingly pleasurable as well. he didn’t miss the small glances you and his other friend— geto, would share with eachother, the slight giggles and side conversations the two of you had while he was forced sat back and watched.

he’d been holding his tongue all fucking night. he allowed you to flirt with gojo, allowed you to have conversations with geto, shit, he even allowed you to wear the most revealing dress in your wardrobe, causing all eyes to be on you.

even nanami glanced at you with lustful eyes here and there, and that wasn’t even in his character. you were just so beautiful, anyone could see that. that’s exactly why he was done fucking around.

a part of him knew his once cold heart was falling for you, and you knew it as well, it’s the reason you never gave up on him. even when there were times he got distant. you just wished he would show some emotion towards you, and stop ignoring the feelings he clearly had.

the black haired man pretended to engage in his friend’s conversations while faking smiles here and there. he needed to make sure no eyes were on him for what he had planned next.

once he was sure his friends were too distracted in their own conversations, he slowly turned his head in the direction of your ear.

you could feel his breath all over your cheekbone and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on..

“you’ve been playing with me all fuckin’ evening, need i remind you who this belongs to?” he asked, bringing his hand that rested on your thigh up to your— no, his soaking pussy.

the three men in front of you were completely oblivious to what was being displayed right in front of their eyes. they were too caught up in their conversations to give a damn what the two of you had going on.

“i swear, it’s like you love pissin’ me off. fuck.. you’re fuckin’ soaked. you like making daddy upset, mhm?” he whispered softly before pulling your panties to the side, forcing his fingers in circles around your throbbing clit.

you gasped— gripping onto the arm he had resting on your thigh, “t-toji wait, not here, please” you whimpered, using all your strength to push his hand away, little did you know it did nothing but add on to his fire.

“nuh uh, move ya fuckin’ hand baby. you wanted to tuck around, right? let me show you somethin’” he chuckled, glancing up to see his friends still intrigued in their conversation.

“p-please, we’ll get caught” you whined, knowing your body wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. sooner or later you were going to start giving in, and you were never one to conceal your moans.

“that’s the plan mama. i want people to watch me finger my girl’s pretty little pussy, maybe then they’ll know you’re mine.” was all he said before slipping his finger past your folds and into your gummy walls.

you leaned your head into his shoulder in an attempt to muffle your moans. his suited jacket soaked them up pretty well thankfully, no one could hear you but him.

“can you take one more for me baby? gonna fill my pussy up good with these fingers.” he asked softly, as your pussy clenched around his finger once more, giving him all the confirmation he needed. with that he added another one of his fingers to join the other inside of your tight walls.

he made sure to curve his fingers at the angle you loved most, knowing how quick it could make you go dumb. that’s why he always aimed for it, he didn’t even need your help finding it anymore.

“t..toji oh my g..gosh. it’s too much, im almost—“ you exclaimed, biting into his suit and clenching your eyes shut as he slipped a third finger in. he made sure to leave a small kiss on your forehead because even though this was technically a punishment, he still wanted to reward you for taking him so well.

“shh it’s okay princess, you’re doing so good for me. just let it out. give daddy all that shit” his mouth was once again towards your ear, ready to talk you through it like always.

as soon as you heard his words and the way his voice boomed through your ear, you couldn’t hold back any longer.

with a slight lift of your hips, you were now cumming around his fingers while his free hand pressed on your lower stomach— something he usually did to make you squirt… but surely he wouldn’t do that here? well, that’s what you thought.

your face scrunched up when you felt something else coming, and it wasn’t like the orgasm you’d just had. this feeling was awfully familiar.. you were about to squirt.

“hell no toji! you better stop doing tha-“ you tried to smack his hand away.. but you were too late. the familiar feeling only got stronger, especially with the way toji wasn’t letting up anytime soon.

a pit formed in your stomach and with one more push, he had you exactly where he wanted you. you couldn’t keep quiet for any longer, and the sound of you squirting echoed throughout the entire table. well, that’s what it felt like to you.

luckily you guys rented the restaurant out, so it was only the five of you. you’d much rather embarrass yourself in front of them than anyone else.

toji let out a low chuckle, still having the audacity to play with your clit after everything he’s done. “bet you’ll stop testing me now, huh?”

bonus. (the trio’s reactions)

gojo snapped his neck over at the sound of liquid spilling, at first he thought it was someone’s drink.. but he put the pieces together as soon as he saw you.

his face was full of disbelief, and he couldn’t help but to comment. “oh my goodness, you two are some nasty little fucks!”

his outburst caught the attention of geto, and he too paused his conversation to see what all the commotion was about. it didn’t take him long to figure it out.. with one look at your facial expression, he already knew what was going on. “and here i was thinking that poor girl was innocent..”

similar to geto, nanami got nosy and wanted to be included into the mix as well. but unlike the others it took him a little longer to figure out what was going on. poor guy was jerking his neck back and forth through out the whole restaurant, trying to find who they were talking about.

but once he finally caught on, he couldn’t suppress the sigh that fell from his lips. in this moment he felt like a disappointed dad, watching you adjust yourself before beating toji’s ass.

“well this is just a damn shame. trust, i won’t be attending a dinner with you dumb asses ever again”

©rissouu 2024

#malora’s works! #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jjk one shot #toji fushiguro one shot #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro x you #jjk x you #toji smut #jealous toji fushiguro #toxic toji fushiguro #smut #anime smut #jjk toji #jjk nanami #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader

[zorobraun]

ex husband ghost at your kiddo’s football game part two

“dad, what does ‘sex’ means?” theo asks, looking at simon while they’re playing video games. his father freezes. “what did you just say?” simon stares at his son in disbelief, instantly crashing the car in the game. “sex.” theo says again, his bright soft eyes full of innocence. simon swallows hard, frowning his nose. “first of all, how did you discover the existence of this word?” simon raises an eyebrow at the kid, laughing quietly. “mommy’s friend.” theo replies in a worried tone, his cheeks getting red from both regret and embarrassment.

“is that so?” simon’s tone is a bit angry now. “i’ll have a word with your mom, then.” he adds with a sigh, looking at his son. “don’t, please. it’s not her fault… she was very uncomfortable.” theo’s eyes are desperate and worried. “don’t worry, buddy. i’ll just talk to her… nicely.” simon reassures him with a soft smile, caressing theo’s head. he nods with a half hearted smile. “her friend was saying something about… mom missing the sex she had with you. i wasn’t supposed to hear that, but she’s too loud.” theo swallows hard, looking away.

simon is in shock. he holds back a laugh. “and mom said that… she can’t help but miss having sex with you, that you’re the best she ever had.” theo completes with hesitation in his tone. “oh my god, really?” simon asks with a fake surprise, laughing out loud. he’s not cocky, but he obviously knew that already, you used to tell him all the time. “yes, dad…” theo mutters with a light chuckle, still confused about the meaning of his mom’s statement.

simon shakes his head, still laughing in disbelief. “your mom is crazy, huh?” he says in a playful tone, wrapping his big arms around theo. “sometimes.” the kid replies, laughing too. “so… what’s ‘sex’, anyway?” theo raises an eyebrow, curious and confused. simon takes a deep breath, staring at his son in a serious, calm way. “sex is… an intimate moment that you share with someone you trust.” he explains in a non explicit way, smiling softly. “really? so you and mom… you trusted each other.” theo smiles sadly. “actually, it was more than trust. we… we loved each other, which makes the experience even better.” simon adds in a calm tone.

“do you miss having… that… with mom?” theo raises an eyebrow, innocent and naive as always. simon suddenly sighs quietly, the memories eating him alive. “i can’t believe we’re talking about this, buddy.” he lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “but yeah, i miss it.” he pauses. “i miss everything.” a sad smile appears on simon’s lips. theo stares into his father’s eyes. he knows that simon is not okay, but he decides to ignore that and give him a tight hug. “let’s get you back to mommy’s house.” simon breaks the silence, kissing theo’s temple.

a few minutes later, simon and theo are standing in your doorstep. you quickly open the door with a smile, since you were already expecting them. you crouch when you see theo, hugging him while you kiss his soft cheeks. “i’ve missed you!” you chuckle quietly, kissing all over his face. “mom, stop, it tickles!” he chuckles, pulling away from you. simon smiles softly in silence. the loud thunder makes the three of you look at the sky. the rain is just getting worse.

you look at simon. his eyes look like coming home. like listening to an old good song after months without listening to it. “hi.” you greet him, smiling. “hey.” simon smiles back, his fingers interlocking with your strands, caressing your head gently. “he already had dinner. and he also showered.” simon tells you, just like always. most of your conversations with him are like this. you nod with a smile. “um, you should come in. it’s raining too much.” you look at simon with a an awkward smile, making him chuckle quietly as he shakes his head. “it’s fine, but thanks.” he says, looking at you. “seriously, don’t drive right now. don’t make me worried.” you reply, touching his arm in a friendly way. simon seems to be hesitant.

“please, dad. stay a little longer.” theo grabs simon’s hand, pulling him inside. simon could never deny his son, so he gives in, clearing his throat before looking around your cozy living room. the living room that was once his, too. it’s a bit awkward to realize that he let you stay without even thinking twice, while he had to buy another place to live. “make yourself at home.” you say the magic words and simon feels that pain in his heart. this is his home. or used to be…

“can i get you something to drink?” you ask with a weak smile. “i’m fine, thanks.” he smiles back and you nod. simon takes a seat on the couch, theo throws himself beside his father. before you could sit next to theo, he leaves the couch to give attention to the puzzle on the ground. you and simon look at each other with a soft smile. you sit next to simon on the couch, making sure to keep a certain distance. “so, did you guys have fun?” you ask with a playfulness in your tone. “of course, mom.” theo chuckles, focused on the puzzle. simon chuckles too, his gaze shifting from theo to you.

“hey, can i talk to you about something?” simon asks, laying his arm lazily on the couch, his body turned towards you. you swallow hard, nodding. “sure. what is it?” you smile nervously. “tell claire to stop talking about sex in front of my son, for fuck’s sake.” simon laughs quietly, touching your hand and squeezing it in a playful manner. your cheeks get instantly red. “w-what? i mean, how… how do you know it’s claire?” you seem embarrassed at first but you end up laughing, slapping simon’s thigh.

“i know all of your friends, idiot. only claire would talk about such things in front of theo.” simon laughs again, making you laugh even more. “i already told her, alright? she’s impossible, i swear…” you smile playfully as you shake your head. “oh, i can tell.” simon mutters in a joking tone. you raise an eyebrow at him, mockingly. “she’s so blunt, it’s funny.” he adds, chuckling.

“she really is. remember that time when you first saw her? it was right in the beginning of our relationship, we had just started dating…” you say with a nostalgic smile. simon’s attention is fixed on you, a laugh wanting to leave his throat because he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “fuck yeah… she said: oh, honey. this isn’t your boyfriend anymore, it’s ours. i couldn’t believe my ears when she said that.” simon completes, laughing out loud, just like you.

“oh my god… i was so embarrassed. i felt so bad for you.” you mumble between chuckles, grabbing simon’s arm in a playful manner. “i was willing to break up with you, she almost scared me off.” simon jokes in a teasing tone, chuckling. you roll your eyes with a laugh, pushing him away. he laughs, adjusting himself on the couch. you stare at his lap for some reason, maybe because you just had flashbacks of the two of you having some late night fun on this couch. simon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly judging your malicious stare. you shy away.

the tension is too heavy when simon sighs quietly, staring into your eyes with so much longing that it almost hurts. he misses you like crazy… but then his brain reminds him that your boyfriend is probably upstairs, waiting for you, as he lays down on the bed that you used to share with simon. suddenly, he gets mad. he gets mad because that stupid boyfriend of yours doesn’t deserve you. he can’t even handle being with a woman like you. simon clears his throat uncomfortably, trying his best to ignore his intrusive thoughts.

“mom, did you tell dad about your wedding?” theo breaks the silence while focused on his puzzle and the world stops. simon holds his breath for a while, staring into your eyes as if he’s pleading to hear that this wedding thing is a joke. he feels like theo’s words opened an unhealed wound. he sighs quietly, looking away. the realization hits him. so you weren’t bluffing when you said that you were actually willing to marry your boyfriend. your eyes are filled with despair as you notice simon’s reaction, you can almost hear his heart shattering. “i’m so happy for you.” he finally says something, but his words are meaningless, shallow. he leaves the couch so he doesn’t have to be near you.

“w-wait, where are you going?” you stand up too, grabbing his arm. “i’m going home.” simon replies with a fake soft smile. you can see in his eyes that he’s devastated. “simon, just… stay. let’s talk.” you swallow hard as your touch stays on him. “i think we’re both done talking.” he replies in an annoyed, upset tone, still faking a small smile. “no, simon. i know you…” you insist in a frustrated frown. “don’t leave me in the dark, alright? please. your opinion matters to me.” your voice breaks a little, already fighting the urge to cry. simon has that pain hidden in his face, that you only saw when he was right on the edge.

“what do you want me to say, y/n? do you need my approval, is that it? don’t you think i’ve had enough of your bullshit already?” simon asks with an extreme frustration in his tone, a hint of betrayal. you hold eye contact with him in silence. a silence that’s too loud. you lick your lips nervously, swallowing hard. “i need… i need you to be okay with this. i need to hear you say that i won’t hurt you if i marry him.” you say in a whisper, your eyes tearing up.

simon sighs heavily, looking away in disbelief. he takes a step back. “oh, you want me to be okay with this? you must be out of your goddamn mind.” simon says with a hint of sarcasm. “i can’t keep doing this, y/n. i can’t keep getting in the way of your new love life, just because you want me to. stop relying on me to make decisions that i don’t have the power to make. i’m so fucking tired of having to watch you give all of your love to another man, right in front of my eyes.” simon stares at you with a certain anger as he comes closer again, grabbing the back of your neck with both hands. he’s tearing up. “can’t you see that?” he whispers, almost begging.

“you ended me the night you asked for a divorce instead of trying to make things right again, because you know damn well that i was more than happy to fight for you. for our marriage.” simon’s tired eyes are still on yours, just like his hands on the back of your neck. “so yes, you will hurt me if you marry him. after all we’ve been through… you betrayed me. i spent years loving you, treating you right, taking care of you, helping you through tough times… just so you could change your mind about us and fall in love with someone new in less than a year.” his chest tightens with his own words, pure betrayal consuming his veins.

“all i ever wanted was you, with all of your qualities and flaws. i wanted my son to have both of his parents living under the same roof. but maybe i asked for too much.” he says, a hint of disappointment in his low voice. tears start running down your cheeks and he sighs tiredly, wiping your tears away, again. “you see? you break me in half but i’m always the one to put you back together somehow, when your boyfriend should be doing it. so look me in the eyes and say that he deserves to be with you. say it. you can’t. because it’s my hand you reach for when you’re falling apart.” simon adds, kissing your tears away. it catches you off guard.

you can’t seem to have the strength to answer, so you just stay silent, feeling the safe warm feeling of his touch on you. simon stares into your eyes, waiting for a response. “y-you don’t understand, simon…” you mutter in a shaky voice. his hands are shaky too. he closes his eyes for a second, feeling even more frustrated and desperate with your words. his pleading gaze fixed on you, his chest rising up and down.

“you don’t seem to understand how this breaks my heart, love. you haunt me. i search for you in anyone, anywhere. i search for you in my empty bed, in the passenger’s seat of my car. in the grocery store, by my side, reading our grocery list out loud. i search for you when i’m out with our friends, when i’m at my mom’s and she asks how have you been, when i’m watching our favorite movie with theo for the thousandth time.” he swallows the lump in his throat. you close your eyes, you can’t handle it anymore. “god knows i even miss your toothbrush next to mine.” he chuckles quietly and sadly, making your heart break.

theo stares at his parents with sad, guilty eyes. but he knows that this seems to be a conversation for adults, only. so he stays quiet, turning his attention back to the puzzle. “you said you wanted my opinion, so i’ll give you just that. i want you to be happy, with or without me. if you’re sure that he’s the one for you, marry him. don’t let me hold you back.” simon’s voice is trembling, he keeps holding back his tears, he needs to sound firm and reassuring. “i’ve got you, always.” he adds and you sob uncontrollably, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

you hide your face in the crook of his neck while he strokes your waist gently. “i… i can’t live without you.” you whisper against his skin, almost begging for him to keep getting in the way of your new love life. simon sighs heavily. “you don’t mean that, love. you were the one who decided to live without me in the first place.” he places a bitter kiss on the top of your head. simon hates the fact that you make him weak to the point where he doesn’t even mind being raw and vulnerable. you know all sides of him, anyway. just like he knows all of yours.

“dad, please…” theo mutters, making the two of you stare at him with surprised eyes. “just tell her.” he turns his gaze towards his parents, holding back a cry. simon immediately walks towards him, crouching in front of the kid. he feels terrible for having that type of conversation with you in front of his son. theo starts crying quietly, making simon widen his eyes with a certain despair. “h-hey, kiddo, it’s okay…” simon picks him up, hugging him tightly. “i’m so, so sorry. i shouldn’t have said all of that in front of you, i’m sorry, buddy.” simon strokes theo’s back, kissing the top of his head.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, trying your best to stop crying. you have to be strong for your son. you walk towards them. “you always make her cry, dad…” theo mutters with a sob and simon’s heart and breathing stop for a moment. “theo, baby, no… it’s not like this at all.” you stand up for simon, caressing your son’s wet cheeks. “your dad is… the most caring, lovable person in this whole world, okay? don’t ever say that again.” you plead him, kissing his forehead. simon feels like shit.

“he’s a liar… he said that you’re still his love… that he misses everything.” theo says in a low tone, touching your face. simon sighs heavily with a defeated frown. you look at simon in silence, speechless. “enough, theo.” simon says in a more firm tone. he puts his son back on the ground, crouching in front of him. simon looks theo in the eyes, grabbing his shoulders gently. “sometimes love is not enough, but you’re too young to understand that.” simon completes, caressing his son’s cheeks.

theo stares at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your response to his father’s statement. but you never open your mouth. “i already told you, mommy’s in love with someone else and that’s okay. that’s life. people come and go, right? just like waves. you know when we’re at the beach, swimming in the sea? the waves, they come and go.” simon smiles softly at him, kissing the top of his head before standing up. theo looks at you, disappointed.

“i-i do love you, simon.” you grab his arm, getting a little mad at his statement. “don’t say that in front of our son.” you scold him with red, puffy eyes. “you know exactly what i meant.” simon bites back, almost in an angry whisper, touching your arm briefly. “just be happy, alright? but don’t you dare be happier than you were with me. do this one thing for me, love.” he adds as a single sour tear runs down his cheek. he can’t hold back anymore. simon runs his fingers through your hair gently, while more tears start filling up his eyes. he breathes out, placing his hand on the back of your neck.

you’re staring at him as if you’re screaming i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for punishing you for things you never did. he pulls your face closer to his, leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, so you can’t see how betrayed he feels in the corner of his eyes. “you broke me like your promises, but just between us… you’ll never be unloved by me. you’re too well tangled in my soul.” he whispers, being completely honest. you sob, speechless. then he kisses you. it’s not a passionate kiss. it’s a sad, tender, salty kiss. it’s the last kiss. it’s the closure kiss, for him.

this is the night in which simon finally sets himself free from the bitter embrace of your ghost. he officially gave up on you, for good. and you can feel it too — in the way he breaks the kiss without even looking at your face. he even seems a bit disgusted. simon pulls away from you, walking towards the door without looking back. now you feel cold without his body to make you warm. “i’ll pick you up at school tomorrow, kid.” simon mutters to theo in a defeated cold tone before leaving your house.

your love maimed him so excruciatingly well that suddenly he feels like a soldier who’s returning half his weight, waiting for his lover’s deadly kiss to put him in a never ending sleep.

#call of duty #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n

[ma1dmer]

Call of Duty - Phillip Graves NSFW

I need him pregnant,,,,ASAP

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he needs a second to unwind, pulls you to him and breathes against your skin, lips pressed against the top of your head as he closes his eyes, big on praise in general so even in those moments he's telling you how good you were for or to him, he'll help you clean up in a bit, like the gentleman he can be, but for a moment let him catch his breath

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): like the good ol' american boy he is, he loves tits, small or big, it does not matter, he just loves them, loves a pretty bra with bows ,and straps he can snap back on your skin like a school boy teasing his crush, definitely a lingerie guy, feels like he's unwrapping a present

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): riding off of what I said above, loves a pearl necklace, has you push your tits up prettily for him so he has a good target as he works his cock quickly above you, muttering to himself as he concetrates on how pretty you look beneath him, one hand always on your tits, touching, cupping, pinching

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): this man loves to show you off, loves the attention you get from others and knowing that at the end of the day you are coming back home to him ,he never lets things get too far but he gets such a thrill from watching other men fawn over you, he'll swoop in once he gets bored and firmly redirect the other man away from you while pulling you in for a kiss, if you ask him what took him so long he'll lie about not noticing

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): he always says he is looking for someone to settle down with as a joke, and then turns around and has another no strings attached hookup with some pretty stranger ,he didn't choose the man whore life, it chose him, he has his fair share of experience ,and he truly is too cocky for his own good about it

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): the standard missionary, if it ain't broke don't fix it, he puts a pillow under your hips and holds himself up so he doesn't miss any detail, from his cock disappearing inside you to your body moving with every thrust, easier access to the goods as well, he's just all over you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he is quite playful when he wants to be, enjoys purposefully riling you up just so he can do the whole act of asking you to forgive him, just tell me how to make it better, he'll ask in fake apology as he kisses your stomach, eyes glinting with mischief knowing he's getting what he wants

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): not particularly hairy, and everything he has is fine and blonde, lets it natural, he also always seems to smell of a very specific brand of soap

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he loves a good traditional chase, let this man do his thing, flirt with you, try to woo you, take you out in his car, open doors, likes if you play a bit hard to get for him, even if you've been dating for years, just so he can promise you the moon and the stars as he slides his hand up your thigh, it's not easy to be casual with him when he acts like that

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): he enjoys taking his time when he is by himself ,one of the reasons he'd bother upgrading his phone to something a bit better, a bit more modern, with a better camera feature, is purely for those lonely nights when he has the free time to sit back for a bit, but can't leave base yet, he'll shoot you a text, and have his pants off as he waits for you to reply

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): edging, dirty talk, praise/degradation etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): in the heat of it he always suggests you two take it somewhere more public, his office, in front of his shadows ,maybe a bar, asking you to paint an image for him, telling you how pretty you are and how much he wishes others could see you like this, would you stop him if he tried to do something outside of your bedroom? ,how naughty and loud you are ,how you definitely want to be seen and heard by others, but at the end of the day he doesn't actually do anything, he knows the risks

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): he loves dirty talk, especially when you do it, he enjoys when you know and tell him what you want, will be grinning cockily as he listens to you, encouraging you to add more details, helping you add to whatever filthy fantasy you confess to him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): I don't see him venturing to the more extreme side of anything ,he knows his limits and as willing as he is to entertain your whims he likes things a bit more vanilla personally

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): this man loves to give head, eats it loudly, non stop talking as he pleasures you, it's sloppy and he isn't very focused, you'll have to beg for him to take it seriously, but oh boy when he does, he buries his whole face between your legs

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): he alternates, will start off faster for you mostly and then slows down the closer he gets to his orgasm, holding you close as he methodically chases his own pleasure

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): loves the idea of them but he never truly commits, there is always some excuse he has about why he can't at that specific moment

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): he'll try toys, he'll try impact play, he'll try the occasional sub/dom dynamic, he'll pull rank, he'll role play , he'll try switching, he enjoys all of it honestly, but only occasionally ,and never taken too far

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): one long round with plenty of foreplay and messing around

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): doesn't feel strong either way about them, he prefers things a bit more traditionally but won't say no to spicing up things every now and then if you ask him nicely

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he is a tease, through and through, but he doesn't hold his ground that well, feed into his ego, beg a bit and he always relents, you have to play into his game

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): he is not loud, but he isn't quiet either, he just doesn't shut up, he talks a lot under his breath, he praises you in that soft southern drawl of his and encourages you with a chain of little yes' and deep moans, he isnt hiding the fact he's enjoying himself

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): has a big oral fixation, he loves using his mouth, put your hands anywhere near his face and he's gonna turn to kiss your palm, your wrist ,or in the heat of the moment pull your fingers in his mouth

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): average size, with a slight tilt to the side, surprisingly pretty and much paler than the rest of him

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): he can often get lost in his head with all the work he has, and as along as he's kept busy he doesn't quite think of anything else but his missions and his orders ,but once he sits down, once he gets a chance to take a breath ,then he realises how much he truly misses you and how much he'd rather be spending his time with you

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): once you guys start pillow talking he closes his eyes and insists he's listening, you might think he's not but if you try to move away or stop talking, he grumbles for you to keep going, he is a very light sleeper

#graves #graves smut #philip graves #phillip graves #cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #graves x reader #Philip graves smut #Phillip graves smut #Phillip graves x reader #Philip graves x reader #modern warfare smut #modern warfare x reader #.writing #call of duty #cod3 #modern warfare #modern warfare 3 #graves cod

[itsjusthockey]

A Nonsense Christmas - Jack Hughes

(Fruitcake EP Series)

Finally.

Enjoy

Comment and interact, love u guys that do. Makes my night

w.c: 2,083 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

“Isn’t this illegal?” You ask, following Jack down through the tunnel of the very dark and very closed Prudential Center. “Or at least frowned upon?”

He snorts in front of you and turns to meet your eyes, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he leans toward you, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Being me has its privileges, baby.”

He throws you a wink, and you roll your eyes as far back as you can as you continue to follow him down toward the devil's locker room. You’ve been to the Devil's barn many times before, but never when it was this late and very obviously closed. This little rendezvous wasn’t your plan. Things that are this extravagant usually aren’t.

You are currently in Jersey, but only for a few days. The hockey world was about to go on break, and Jack had begged you to fly in before you both headed to Michigan for the holidays. You were a bit hesitant, but after a few bribes from your boyfriend, you ended up in Jersey.

Tonight is your first night, and all you want after a long week of finals and a tiring flight is to land face-first in Jack's bed and stay there—Jack has other plans. As soon as you land and drop your stuff in the apartment, he is quick to shoo you out the door again, explaining he has a surprise date night planned after your miserable finals, and you are going to love what he has planned.

At the moment, the only feeling that is plaguing your mind is nervousness. Jack’s too cocky, and he has a slight bounce in his step which usually means he’s up to no good.

You follow behind him diligently, and soon enough, you both enter the locker room. The space is as lovely as you remember it, and you follow Jack over to his stall, which is conveniently next to his baby brothers. You watch with slightly narrowed eyes as he grabs various items from his locker and hands them to you.

It isn’t until he opens his little cubby that everything falls into place. There inside is a brand new box, and when he opens it in front of you, his stupid little smirk grows even wider.

“You like?” He proudly pulls the new Bauer skates from the box, handing one over to you.

You take in the brand new pair of skates. They’re beautiful, custom, and just your size.

“You, sir, are evil.” You give him a false mean glare, but you’re slightly being honest with your statement. “You really bought me skates and trapped me here to force me to ice skate?”

He shrugs his shoulders again, smiling. “Yes, I did.”

You roll your eyes at the boy in front of you. You’ve been together for a while, a long time, and while you’re dating one of the best hockey players in the league, you can’t ice skate for shit. It’s not for a lack of trying; you really have given it your all, but you’ve just had terrible teachers. Jack has tried to teach you many times. Many, many times, to no avail.

The first time, you almost ended up with a trip to the emergency room. The second time you landed so hard on your back, you thought you were paralyzed. The third time, you almost got a concussion. So it’s simple to say you’ve tried your best, but you’ve decided to leave ice skating to the professionals.

“Come on, baby, tonight’s the night, I feel it.”

You follow him out of the locker room toward the ice. You pause when you get there, suddenly feeling a sense of nostalgia. The lights are on in the center ice, and you have to admit it looks serene and slightly beautiful in the late evening. You’ve only ever been here when it is bustling with fans, and you feel a little special getting to see it this way.

“Come on, stop stalling.” Jack teases, patting the bench for you to sit.

You follow him and seat yourself in front of him. He’s smiling big, and he looks ridiculously happy. He’s always like this when he’s here; he has a certain energy when he’s close to a rink. You’d never tell him this, but you love it when he tries to teach you, even if you are wildly nervous.

Jack kneels down, immediately getting to work. You wince slightly as he pulls the skatelaces impossibly tighter around your foot. He quickly loops them around and tucks them into the sides, ensuring there is no possibility of you tripping, which you may or may not have done before.

“There, how’s that?” Jack gently pats your ankle as he looks up at you, still kneeling on the floor.

You shake your feet around, and the brand-new Bauer skates don’t budge a bit; it’s really tight and slightly cutting off blood flow, but you would rather have that than a broken ankle.

“Feels good.”

He smiles again, standing up and grabbing your face. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, then sits next to you, pulling on his own skates. You watch as he tightens them in record speed, and soon enough, he’s launching himself across the boards.

You glare at him as he races around the ice. He skates forward, backward, and even does a little spin. He’s laughing as you’re watching him move around fluidly, and once he’s done, he skates back to you, leaning over the boards where you’re standing, safely behind the danger.

“Stop showing off J, you’re not cute.”

He barks out a laugh at your bitterness, but he smiles sweetly and extends a hand for you to grab. You hesitate, watching his open palm for a minute before you finally pluck up enough courage and swing yourself onto the ice.

As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice, you fall a bit forward, and Jack steadies your waist. You give him another glare when you catch his amused stare. He’s enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, baby, you ready for the basics?”

You nod and watch as your boyfriend goes into full teacher mode. He tells you how to go, how to change directions, and you’re off. You feel pretty good. You haven’t been injured yet, but you seem to be skating better than you ever have. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re on professional ice; maybe their talent is seeping in.

You’re moving pretty fast, actually very fast, and Jack has let go of your hands, letting you glide on your own. It isn’t until you’re getting a little too close that you realize he forgot to reach you, the most essential part of ice skating.

“Wait,” you screech a bit. “How the fuck do I stop!”

Before you can do anything, you smack into the boards and fall on your ass. You hit the ice pretty hard as you go down, and as soon as you fall, you just lay there accepting defeat.

You hear Jack's loud and annoying laughter before he gets to you. He skates up so close, and he hovers above your body, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“You were doing so good. What happened?”

You huff in annoyance, and he holds out his hands to help you up. Once you’re back on your feet, you throw him another glare.

“I’m not having fun.”

He smiles and skates in a bit close, moving to kiss your pout away. He does, and when he pulls his face back, he gently moves a piece of stray hair out of your face.

“You’re doing good. It just takes practice.”

You nod, and a newfound sense of determination fills you. This is just ice skating, literally Jack's job, and you will fucking master it if it kills you. More so, you know for a fact that there is a family skate coming soon, and you want to impress people. You know you have it in you, so you grit your teeth, use Jack to push you, and you’re off again.

An hour later, you’re quite impressed with yourself. You’ve managed to skate around and haven’t fallen once. You’re moving good, and you’re finally able to keep up with Jack to a certain extent.

“You better watch out J, I think the league might replace you with me.”

You wink at him as he watches you proudly, and you can tell this means a lot to him, so even if it means you’ll fall a few times, you’ll do this every day.

“You’re a natural.” He circles you, and you try your best not to knock into him. “You just needed to get out of your head.”

You nod, smilingly, and you both skate for a little longer. Eventually, you grow a bit tired. It’s been a long day, and you find yourself skating toward the devil's bench in search of some much-needed water.

Jack reads your mind and beats you to the bench, swinging himself over and grabbing the water bottle. He grins a little bit and melts your heart. He shakes the water bottle and holds it high. You oblige and tilt your head back as he squirts the water into your mouth. He misses a bit, causing the water to dribble down your chin. You sputter a bit and wipe at your face, playfully glaring at him.

“Oops, my bad," Jack says, chuckling as he wipes the excess water off your cheek with his hand. "Looks like I need to work on my aim."

You shake your head, feigning annoyance, but you can’t help but find his boyish antics endearing.

“You're lucky you're cute," you tease, unable to hold back your laughter.

Jake grins impossibly wider, his eyes twinkling a bit with mischief. "Well, I guess I'll have to make it up to you then."

He reaches out and helps pull you safely off the ice. He makes quick work and cups your face with cold hands, leaning down to kiss you softly.

The familiar tingle of excitement rushes through you as your lips meet, and you melt into his embrace, warming yourself up. His kiss is passionate but sweet and tender; it sends shivers down your spine. The light sounds of the empty area fade, and you find yourself getting lost with him.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull apart, breathless but grinning from ear to ear. Jack's blue eyes sparkled as he looks at you with all the affection in the world.

“Better?" he asks with a smirk, his hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. "Much better," you whisper, unable to hide your adoration for this hockey-playing heartthrob in front of you.

You sigh wistfully and see the twitch of a smile tug at his lips as you cup his jaw and tug him down to meet you in another gentle, lingering kiss. The warmth of his touch sends a rush of emotions through you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Are you hungry?” Jack whispers in your hair.

You nod and loop your arms through his bent elbows, crossing it over his back. You press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he pulls you back toward the locker room. It doesn’t take long for you both to pack up, and you’re very pleased with the successful date night. It isn’t often you get to do things like this, and every time you do, you’re reminded how special your relationship is.

Ten minutes later, you’re packed into the Range Rover, and Jack is speeding toward his favorite late-night burger place. When you pull in, you see the hanging Christmas lights, and you’re reminded of the season. It’s Christmas, and you get to spend time with him, lots of time.

He leads you in hand and hand, and you can’t help but feel utter joy as you eat and spend the rest of the night together. The holdings season is shaping up to be the best yet, and you’re unbelievably excited to spend it by his side.

#fruitcakeseries #hockey #hockey boys #imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl blurb #nhl24 #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhledit #nj devils #new jersey #devils hockey

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lip gallagher x implied fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re not sure why you feel the way you do but everything is just so overwhelming. what better way to relieve stress than by going to bug your favorite cocky bastard? || preview here

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, tiny bit of anxiety, light smut, soft!lip, reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend (once), princess, and baby’, no use of y/n

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k (2203)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: a reupload because the first didn’t post properly for some reason i have an idea or two for our fav southside boy in the works, but in the meantime, feel very free to send me a request or just shoot me an ask with lip brainrot. i welcome all here.

also! i made a ko-fi, link here! totally not required but greatly appreciated if you want to support!

- ❤︎ -

You’re tired, unbelievably so. You can’t fathom being in this class for another minute. When you slowly direct your gaze to the clock on the wall, you thank whatever higher power is at work that you only have a few minutes before the class ends.

The professor can barely bid his farewells before you’re out the door. You don’t remember ever moving so fast, but you can’t wait to be in the comfort and safety of your room. 

Walking to your destination, you notice how heavy your body feels. It seems like you’re carrying double your weight as you drag yourself. The only thing getting you through is knowing that soon enough, you’ll be able to toss your books aside and rid yourself of the clothes that feel far too tight and warm and- 

You groan, suddenly feeling oh so overwhelmed. Once you reach your shared campus apartment, you can’t help sighing in relief. The tension almost dissipates as you rummage through your bag for your key, letting yourself in. What greets you, however, is nothing short of comforting. Your roommate is currently on the couch, looking like they’re about two kisses away from having sex.

Your annoyed sigh catches their attention, and they separate from their partner long enough to send you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I thought I texted.” The person underneath whispers something in their ear. You barely hide your disgust when your roommate giggles. “We’ll be quiet.”

You must look skeptical - as you should, taking into consideration the many times when they have, in fact, not been quiet - because your roommate lifts their pinky, “Promise.”

You ignore how they barely wait for you to take your leave before starting back again. Your only focus is quickly entering your room and stripping yourself of those ultra-suffocating clothes. You let out a breath of air, inhaling and exhaling and exhaling and inhaling. 

Burying yourself in your blankets, you lay your head on your pillows and feel yourself start to drift off. The day’s stress fades as you close your eyes, welcoming sleep.

And you do just that until a loud thump wakes you from your daze. You go on high alert, thinking something is awry. Only when you hear moaning do you pinpoint the disruption.

That fucking liar, you silently seethe, attempting to block the increasingly loud moans from reaching your ears. Of course, they weren’t going to be quiet. It was like they had no sense of privacy or respect, for that matter.

Based on previous experience, you knew that sleep stood no chance against the literal bumping and grinding of your roommate and their partner right outside your room. With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself out of bed, slipping on a hoodie and sweatpants. At least these clothes don’t feel so suffocating.

You move around your room in the dark to find your shoes. You weren’t sure where you’d kicked them when you came home, hazardously tossing your clothes off so you could dive into bed. You think about turning the light on, but considering the headache begging for stimulus, you decide against it.

You finally come across a pair of shoes - well, correction: slippers. Better than nothing, you think as you slide your feet inside. You bring your hood down over your head, practically shielding your face before leaving your room. 

The sounds are even louder as you walk past the couch, and you mentally note to rearrange the living room the next time you don’t feel like shit.

You practically stomp over to the door, not even caring to be quiet. If your roommate doesn’t give a flying fuck, neither do you. They pause long enough for your roommate to apologize with what you know is another sheepish smile.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you open the door, “fuck both of you.”

You close the door behind you and almost laugh when you remember they were doing just that. You’re not sure which is worse: staying in the apartment with your roommate being extremely loud or having nowhere to go. You think about it for a second when you realize that both are equally as bad.

You’re about to start stressing again when you think of something, someone else. As you meander through the apartment hallways, grimacing at every loud noise you encounter, you flip out your phone and text the one person you know won’t disrespect your privacy like your roommate.

hey, can i come over?

The elevator dings, and you pocket your phone, boarding the chute. You grimace at the bright lights and the loud chattering of the two people in the corner. While you realize they don’t mean to be so obnoxious, you sigh heavily, waiting to reach your desired floor. 

Just when you think you’ll combust if you hear one more hyena-like laugh, the elevator dings again, and when you sigh this time, it’s in relief.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you check it as you step off, beginning your walk down the hall.

aww, u missed me, didn’t u?

Your eyes roll as a smile tugs at your lips. You’re about to respond when another text comes through.

come on over since u just can’t live without me

The cocky bastard, you muse, not bothering to text back when you approach the door you’ve been desperately waiting to see. You go to knock when the door opens, and you perk up a bit, only to frown when you notice it’s not the person you came to bother.

Tyler, you think that’s his name, grins at you and opens the door wider for you to step inside. “Hey, Lip, your girlfriend’s here.” 

Lip emerges and greets you with a sly smirk. “That was quick. Bet you were racing to get here.”

Upon seeing your favorite cocky asshole, you feel your stress relieving. With a scoff and roll of your eyes, you deny the accusation. “One, I wasn’t racing. And two, I think we both know who can’t live without who here, and just a hint: it’s not me.”

Lip bites back a laugh, dipping his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants as he brings you closer. His lips are pressed against yours before you even register him leaning in. When you do, he’s pulling away, leaving you chasing after him. 

The brunet laughs then, “What was that again, babe? Something about you being able to live without me?”

You huff, the corners of your mouth tilt down, and your brows crease. It was such a Lip thing to rub it in your face. If the roles were reversed, you know for a fact Lip would be all over you.

“C’mere, you baby.” Lip pulls you closer to him, smirking as he kisses you again. You press into him, sighing softly against his mouth. It seemed like with each kiss, your stress was slowly melting away.

You felt the brunet’s exploratory hands caressing the skin beneath your waistband. Before they can reach any further, a laugh comes from behind you. “Aren’t you two just so cute?”

Shit, you flush with embarrassment. So caught up with him, you forgot Tyler there by the door. You go to move away from the brunet, but he holds you still, one hand cradling your head and the other raising his middle finger to his friend.

It’s a simple ‘fuck you’ that only sends the other male into boisterous laughter. 

“Okay, okay,” Tyler snickers, “I’m going.” The door opens once more, and right before it closes, Tyler calls over his shoulder, “Don’t have too much fun, kiddos.”

If you think you were embarrassed before, it doesn’t surpass now as you finally separate from him, face burning as you plant it on his chest.

You feel the brunet’s chest rumbling as he attempts to contain his laughter. “C’mon, let’s go to my room before Tyler starts creeping on us.”

You follow behind him like a lost puppy, allowing him to pull you along. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you fall on his bed. Shooting a glare at the brunet, you right yourself on the bed.

His response is a cocky grin, and if you weren’t feeling like crap, you might rip him a new one. Instead, you roll your eyes, laying back on the pillows. 

“So, what’s got you in such a pissy mood?” You hear shuffling next to you and direct your gaze to the brunet, who is pulling his tee over his head. As shitty as you feel, you allow yourself to keep your eyes on how his muscles shift and contract. 

“My eyes are up here, baby,” You can hear his sarcastic tone, and you slowly drag your attention away from his chest and arms to his face. 

“I know. I guess you can say I was,” you pause, pretending to look for the correct word, “admiring the view.” 

You hear the bed creak before you feel it dip as Lip hovers above you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You mean you’re having a bad day because you want my dick? Aw, princess, you could’ve just said so. I’m more than happy to help.”

“Fuck you, Gallagher.” You try to sound annoyed, but your breath of laughter betrays you. “And I’m having a shitty day because I’m tired as shit, and my roommate is fucking.” Lip looks confused, so you clarify. “Like actually fucking, which sucks ass. So I’m here because I need some TLC.”

“Thick Long Cock?”

A laugh rips through your chest as you push the brunet away. “You’re fucking awful. You know damn well I meant Tender Love and Care, not fucking Thick Long-” You can’t even finish your sentence through your laughter.

When you’ve calmed down, you look up to see him staring down at you with a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin. The quickening pitter-patter of your heart is interrupted when the brunet leans down to peck at your lips. “Got you to laugh, didn’t I?”

The sneaky bastard. You shake your head, unable to hide your simpering grin. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down for another kiss. Then another. And another. And just once more.

You’re satisfied now, and you let him know just that. Though, just because you are doesn’t mean he is. The next thing you know, your face and neck are peppered with kisses that have you squirming away.

“Lip…” you groan as his kisses become more frequent and sensual. He pulls back only to look down at you with that motherfucking cocky smirk you’ve come to love and hate. 

“Thought you wanted some TLC?”

“You’re the most awful person I’ve ever known,” you sigh, pretending to be annoyed. Lip could read right through your facade.

One hand slides under your hoodie, prompting goosebumps despite the warmth, as the other holds him up. Lip’s fingers trailed up to your breast, but he paused. “This okay?” He asks, stroking the skin just below. 

You’re sure he can hear the quickening beat of your heart as you nod, “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay.”

“Just my luck then, huh?” is asked as his hand encompasses your breast, eliciting a shaky breath from you when he presses against your nipple. He squeezes and palms and pinches and pulls, alternating from breast to breast until you’re moaning soft and quiet, digging your teeth into your bottom lip.

When you had come over, you hadn’t been expecting this. But you can’t complain. And as much as it would stroke the brunet’s already enormous ego, you can’t deny that Lip’s fingers are incredibly skilled.

Your hoodie is pulled higher, so you lift yourself to help him remove it. If he was giving you the front-row seat to his show, the least you could be is a pliant audience member. You’ve barely closed your eyes, laying your head on the pillow, when he licks at your nipples. The cold air and his earlier ministrations have increased your sensitivity, and you can’t stop a choked whimper from escaping.

“Fuck, Lip!” His teeth scrape against the hardening buds, and you can’t remember why you were so on edge earlier.

A breath of laughter sounds above you, prompting your eyes to flutter open. “Feels good?” If your brain wasn’t so muddled by the pleasure he gave you, you might ask why he asks questions he already knows the answers to.

Instead, you add fuel to the fire, maintaining eye contact as you look at him through your lashes, “Yeah, it feels good.”

A slight dimple appears as he grins, “You know, you’re kinda hot when you get confident like that.”

During the pause in pleasure, your brain clears some, and you raise a questioning brow. “Kinda?” 

Lip corrects himself, “No, not kinda. I mean, so fucking hot that it gets my dick all hard.”

Your eyes widen at his vulgar choice of words. It takes a second to regain your composure, “Screw you.”

“I’d like to screw you more, princess.” Lip says as he adjusts to sit on his knees, still hovering above you. His hands find themselves home on your thighs, “So, how about you let me give you some more stress relief?”

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher fluff #lip x reader #chaos.writes 🖋 #chaos-is-beautifvl

[satoruhour]

Loved the recent sukuna racer au 😭😭😭🩷🩷 can you elaborate a bit more on geto in the same racer au? 🥺🩷🩷🩷🩷

LLOROMANNIC

a/n: thx 4 this ask anon, this is rlly long bahaah i hope u enjoy! more context here. for recap, reader is in japan for an exchange programme.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: (fluff @ the start, smut comes in later) virginity loss, soft dom!geto, geto really really is obsessed w/ you, oral / cunnilingus (eats pussy like this! like i really don’t know what this position’s called), pet names, slight nipple play, clit stimulation, fingering, slight size kink, p -> v penetration, protected sex, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knows how the two of you became so close after that fateful meeting. they’re still wondering how you drew suguru in so effortlessly — some say you planned it, others say it was just by chance, but you’re not too sure yourself when all you can focus on is the racer beside you muttering into your skin a year after.

it was a(n almost) blissful six months when you first start out. that day he did keep his promise, winning the race without breaking a sweat and you cheer for geto unconsciously, catching the curious eyes of gojo and nanami who exchange looks — maybe you’d finally be the someone to capture geto’s heart.

geto made an effort to u-turn back to the corner he was parked in with the passenger side to you and he leans over to open it for you, but in return it just gathers more attention. “shall we go?” you try your best to escape the prying eyes of the tokyo crowd, and with a wave to the other two, geto is speeding off once you’ve gotten into the car.

“so… why’re you driving me there?”

“why cinnamoroll? berry and cherry’s a hundred times better.” he comments, and much to your dismay, he just answers your question with a less serious question than yours.

“why not?”

“well i mean…” was this man really about to lecture you on sanrio characters? his explanation is brief, but detailed, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh — although a snort still leaves you — just as he turns into the next carpark that you were supposed to go into instead and he’s asking what? like he didn’t just ramble about two sanrio demon characters. 

“eh, it’s just cute that a scary, cool racer guy like you knows so much about sanrio.” you giggle when you watch him find an empty spot, and you’re trying to not let it affect you: the dragon that wraps around his bicep right to his forearm, the tense of his muscles, the addictive line of his jaw that trails all the way down to his collarbone—

you don’t notice your choice of words until geto uses that chance to fluster you instead.

“it’s just what?” he’s all up in your personal space like he was earlier before pulling away — a quiet, chilling tension that sends your hairs standing, left arm going behind your seat to park his car perfectly in the lot. his jawline is accentuated by how he turns behind to reverse (he hopes parking effortlessly would get you to like him more); suguru’s good at always making you want more, you realise that.

“cute.”

you’re mumbling and once he’s got the car in, his arm comes back round, a teasing hand pressed up to his ear. “what was that, hm?”

and maybe you were wrong to think he was being a decent person among the sneers and mockery of the crowd earlier, and you frown, thinking if you’d really want to entertain him. there’s a dilemma in you: what if he was just like the others, the loud, cocky ones who only ever cared about their cars? suguru looked just like the part, too, and if you weren’t careful, you’d probably end up being a trophy piece for him to bring around.

you just sigh. “thank you for driving me, geto-san.” it’s rigid as you say it, an inner turmoil within you; you hope it doesn’t show.

and he immediately regrets his silly question. he doesn’t blame you for standing your ground especially after the whole spectacle before the race started, watching in defeat as you slam the door to his Mazda a little harshly. hurriedly his eyes dart around the dashboard for paper, messily scribbling down an apology together with his number, along with some cash — he did promise to treat you to something in that cafe, but he was confident you’d want nothing to do with him; for now, anyway.

“hey, i’m uh— i’m sorry. it was out of line, enjoy the event, ’kay?” geto genuinely looked sorry, a sheepish smile spreading across his face and he hurries away before you can say anything. he’s lamenting over it upon returning, talking to gojo who could barely care and nanami who’s zoning out, about how you looked so innocent and stunning by simply sitting in his car.

and you? you’ve resorted to telling yourself how you’d only send a message to the mysterious number only after getting back home, after a shower, paper creased and unintelligible at some point that you almost typed in a ‘6’ in place of an ‘8’.

you’ve broken your own rule already once you’re stepping foot into your home because your finger immediately opens the empty chat, hovering over the button to send the message you’ve drafted two hours ago. your heart pounds and you feel dizzy — you never wanted to die so bad before.

suguru’s mood remains sour until later in the evening where an unknown number texts him with a faceless photo of a cup of cinnamoroll cappuccino and a crème brûlée with cinnamorll’s face on the caramelised sugar. he knows it’s you from the outfit you wore earlier and geto can’t help but smile, dwelling on what he could say to you that wouldn’t sound stupid.

god, geto was a racer. he was supposed to be cool and a natural at flirting, but he can’t believe he’s already deleted his drafted message for a fifth time, not noticing how you fluctuate between being online and off, too.

he doesn’t answer you like an idiot because while you’re nervous over the simple text, geto wants to tear his hair out — until he gets an idea; he’s off the bed in a minute, hastily grabbing his leather jacket and putting his hair into a bun.

eventually he manages to say something that sounds nonchalant.

[19:23, geto → UNKNOWN]: enjoy your cinnamoroll coffee?

suguru waits patiently when you type and stop, and type and stop, and he uses that time to sprint to his Mazda and to speed to a close-by 7-eleven. he was sure to find some sanrio merchandise in the store, face lighting up when he comes across a mediocre cinnamoroll keychain — and after a small battle with himself he also adds a duo berry and cherry keychain to the pile — he just needed to figure out when to give it to you.

a notification interrupts his daydreams.

[19:29, UNKNOWN → geto]: better without you here

he knows you’re joking with the way you send a sticker after.

[19:30, UNKNOWN → geto]: but thank you for the treat.

and for driving me

and for the number

geto chuckles, paying and leaving the store before he lets out a breath.

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: want to come out for a drive? i really want to apologise for earlier

and every doubt ceases to exist, your contemplation ending right there, head snapping to your clock to look at the time. if you could get dressed fast enough—

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: and also i just… want to get to know you

i’ll meet you at that same parking lot where we met. i’ll wait for you, okay?

—you could see the mysterious, brooding racer again. despite your outburst, you couldn’t deny the adrenaline you felt sitting in his car, bickering over which character was better, seeing the raise of his eyebrow on his attractive face. you don’t trust yourself to type anything else so you simply send a thumbs up emoji, jumping up to get ready in the darkening and freezing tokyo landscape.

shouting out an excuse, you bid goodbye to your parents and race out the door, white wisps of your hot breath appearing as you reach the car park in record time, seeing him nervously leaning against his Mazda. you smile. seems like you weren’t the only fidgety one.

“how’re you doin’?” geto clears his throat, but you just grin, getting into his passenger seat. the tips of your fingers tingle, you hoped the adrenaline would help you even a little.

“you called me out because you want to show off, right?” that loosens suguru a little, letting out a laugh at your unexpected comment.

“sure did.”

the next hours are spent speeding through the streets of shibuya, with you scared out of your mind at first. but when geto looks over to you with a blinding smile, you ease into his leather seats, slowly getting used to his sharp and precise turns.

geto is focused on drifting on specific turns, smile fading into a serious expression as he slams on the break and changes gear, steering the wheel sharply and you find yourself staring freely, a smile tugging on your lips at how so damn good he looked at the moment.

the night ends up with letting you try out the car for a bit, and even geto is surprised at himself because his RX-7 was something he cherished deeply, but to let someone try it was beyond him. he’s laughing with you, telling you that drift racers do not need to use turn signals and you burn in embarrassment, but other than that you have a good time, a quietness settling as he pulls up to your host home in japan.

“come to my next race?”

you bit your lip. you can’t lie, geto suguru is handsome as hell and you’re already hooked, unaware how the other wants you just as bad.

“sure thing, suguru.” the first name seems to catch him off-guard, even more so when you lean over the stick shift to peck his cheeks. 

geto spends the next five minutes touching the skin where you kissed it, the loud rev of his engine reflecting exactly how he felt.

geto suguru was a goner.

every text, every call, every outfit (by god, geto did not care about what he wore, until he got with you) was for you. geto suguru was the gentlest with you, always asking if you’re okay with whatever he does. a hand on your waist, a peck to your cheek. he eases into the relationship, a plethora of night races lined up in his roster since he didn’t want you to miss any classes. nor could you underperform, because if your grades weren’t up to standard, you’d be sent home — your actual home back in your country. it came easy, though, apart from the sneaky makeout sessions in between geto telling you you used ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ in your essays.

“y’know you don’t have to wear it, right?” geto laughs, placing a kiss to your temple while your mouth twists at the shape of the miniskirt, gifted to you by his sister who had worn it in the same scene, too. your boyfriend only whistles when you place it to your front, hands tightening just a little around your waist when he sees just how short it is.

“so?” you emerge from the bathroom a little while later, his oversized shirt on you looking a bit weird with the miniskirt but his breath hitches when you pull the top up, admiring the way the miniskirt hugged your figure so well. “i’m not sure if i like it, su…”

“that’s cause you’ll need other sort of tops, baby,” geto simply smiles, beckoning you over with a hand. it’s criminal how easily you follow the gesture, moving to stand between his legs. his rough hands leave hot trails of fire along your thighs, inching dangerously close to your ass. “you’ll need,” an unsatisfactory kiss on the denim of your skirt, suguru frowns, “a crop top,” a kiss to your hip bone. “or maybe a halter,” a kiss to your other hip bone, “a tube top,” a kiss to your stomach, “or maybe even a cami?” the grin geto gives you is sickening sweet as he lists them off one by one, each kiss getting closer and closer, from your hands to your shoulders, until they finally reach your face and your heart is beating like you were in fucking seven minutes in heaven.

“how’d you know so much?” you’re twiddling with the hem of his oversized shirt.

geto exhales, placing a sweet kiss onto your lips, “when you’ve been racing underground for quite a bit… it’s easy to pick up on the fashion. but—” he melts all your worries away when he takes your cheeks in his hands, “but even if you weren’t dolled up, i’ll still be lookin’ at ya. you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room.”

“my prettiest girl.” suguru mumbles, getting lost in your lips again with a promise he’ll take you shopping the next day.

you ease into the miniskirts soon enough. though you don’t exactly abandon your old style, you also love the freedom of wearing teeny skirts with skin tight tops, legs and ass on display for all to see while geto simply smiles no matter what you wear. he thinks you look stunning either way.

“what do you think?” geto asks inwardly if you were really the same person who loved cinnamoroll, legs on display and safety shorts hugging your ass so well as you twirl around in your room — geto wasn’t opposed to just panties, either; he knows he can throw a decent punch. you’re donning the piece of apparel so well that he feels himself getting hard.

“i think my baby looks gorgeous,” suguru smiles, sauntering up to you before wrapping his bigger arms around your middle before coating your face and neck with kisses but your mind’s wandering into the gutter with how you can see both your figures in the mirror. you’re thinking just what it’ll be like to fog up the mirror with your shaky breaths as geto rams into you from behind, but you snap out of it before he notices, turning around in his embrace to land a kiss to his lips.

“a good luck kiss for my racer boy,” you giggle, hands getting lost in his hair. you’ve become more bold too, geto realises and he decides that maybe tonight he’ll have you before you leave to finish your university semester and his heart clenches at the thought of you leaving — six months is six months, after all. having to resort to facetimes and timezones and late night messages is the reality, but he’s willing to try.

if it’s you, he’ll try.

one thing led to the next; it was your miniskirt riding up your legs, it was the way you ran up to him after he wins, jumping into his arms knowing these were your last few days together. just like how you were obsessed with geto suguru, he was besotted with you.

“is this okay with you, (y/n)?” the way he says your name has you wishing he would do it over and over in that pleading voice of his — it’s just the first of many.

“you’ll be taking my first, suguru.” you mumble out as his lips trail from your jaw to neck, and it makes him freeze. maybe you shouldn’t hav—

“you want me to be your first?” geto asks breathlessly, like he’s been told he won the lottery. he couldn’t believe how you’ve been untouched this whole time, yet your sultry gazes and untamed hips say otherwise.

“you’re such a little minx, teasing me and shit, but you haven’t lost your virginity?” his fingers caress your cheek and you preen at his tone, leaning into his touch. 

you hum and smile, “i never lose.” and you giggle when he laughs, capturing your lips in another kiss. the playful mood fades into the prior one, feeling the other get rougher with his kiss while his hands start to wander more.

“tell me to stop whenever and i’ll stop, okay, sweetheart?” you nod, squishing his face in your hands.

“i’ll be okay, su,” you grin before wrapping your legs around his pelvis, pulling him onto your needy cunt. he’s already hard, a dark spot forming at where his tip was. “i’ll be okay, especially when i fuck myself thinking it’s your cock.”

suguru’s jaw drops just a bit and he craves you even more by then, flipping up your skirt and pressing kisses along your thigh. he was determined to wipe the sick little grin off your face. he was determined to make you cum so hard you’d regret teasing him at all.

you hardly have any attitude for him once his tongue meets your pulsing clit and groans into your core, licking an experimental stripe up your folds. “better than your fingers?” suguru grins when he glances up and all he can see is your head thrown back, a subtle nod that’s got him back into feasting. he alternates between flicking your bud and sucking harshly, his calloused hands that you always admired around the steering wheel are now on your thighs, spreading them apart when you start to close them. by now your skirt’s soaked from how wet your pussy is, mewling and whining for your lover for more.

“you taste so fuckin’ good,” geto mumbles into your folds, giddy on the tangy sweetness of your juices that he has to reach down to squeeze his cock, “my girlfriend’s pussy tastes so good.”

“f-fuck… suguru don’t stop—” in the large bedroom, it’s filled with moans from you and the lewd sounds of your pussy, which escalate into a shriek when he’s suddenly pushing you up, weight transferred onto your shoulders and neck, not before making sure you have a pillow under you. “su—!”

“oh— ooh shit!” geto easily manhandles you as he props you up, your body bent uncomfortably while your hips continue to buck in his mouth and you aren’t sure where your legs go. it gives him better access to your cunt as he dips his tongue into your hole, nose nudging into your clit while you’re clutching onto his forearms for balance; his front supports you perfectly. geto’s onyx eyes bore into yours when he eats, moaning softly when he feels you clench around his tongue.

“you close?” he commits you to memory: how your toes curl and your stomach contracts. how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he feels so tense too, cock twitching in his underwear that it’s begging to be in you. “my baby’s g’nna cum, hm?”

“y-yes— ’m close mmf...” you can hardly manage a nod, moans escaping in between one worded sentences and you’re sure your legs are shaking from how good geto was giving it to you. with the hands that spread you out, one goes to your nipple to pinch it while the other plays with your clit, pressing and rubbing on it and a choked suguru leaves your lips.

“cum,” the one word has so much command over you, paired with the ministrations he was so skilled at that you’re clenching around air when you reach your high, euphoria crashing down on you with how you see white and your body feels tired already. “that’s my pretty girl, god, you’re cumming s’much.”

it takes awhile for you to come down from your orgasm, but despite your fatigue you already find yourself wanting more when you shoot geto a grin, heart fluttering at how he massages your thighs and bring you back down.

“you okay?” geto mumbles, pecking your knee softly, inwardly smiling at the way your legs still jolt and shake at your climax, “got my princess shakin’ and all.”

you giggle before you’re pulling him toward you, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss deepens, jumping a little when geto slips in a finger easily. you’re easily moaning into the kiss, reeling from just how one finger feels in you, slipping in so easily just how soaked your cunt was. 

gotta prep you for me, ‘kay? he whispers against your lips before a second goes in and you have to break the kiss to whimper. relax, baby, suguru’s voice is so intoxicating that you’re doing the exact opposite. you’re so tight that geto has to take a moment, imagining what you’ll feel like around him, but it’s not long before you’re begging for more that he starts moving his fingers into your cunt.

they are soft, gentle on you that you’re already tugging on his waistband, swallowing geto’s chuckle and comment about just how eager you are. in that bedroom, you’ve gotten him on his knees just by existing, pussy still drooling and your body contorted in such sensuality that he’s already worshipping you unconsciously. you gasp a little when he finally removes his underwear, eyes fixated on the pretty dick he’s got in his hand, leaking so much pre-cum just from eating you out. he makes quick work to grab a condom out from his bedside drawer.

“i’ll make it fit. gotta relax, yeah?” he hums into your skin before he rolls the condom over his cock as you watch, impatient. along with some lube, he smears your juices around with his tip, relishing in how you squeeze his forearms.

and when geto suguru sinks into you for the first time, tip nudging past your folds and stretching you out at first, a long whine leaves you just as geto groans out because you’re so warm inside that it’s got him dizzy. your eyes try to flutter close but geto mumbles that he wants to see how good he makes you feel, body hovering over yours like it’s forbidden. but he knows if he sinks into you with the feel of your tits on him, he wouldn’t last.

“s’big, suguru— ah!” eyes struggling to stay open, your arms hang around his neck, the feel of the rubber in you not entirely pleasant but suguru hitting all your spots is enough to make up for it. you’re just dripping and dripping non-stop that it leaks right down to the sheets before the other bottoms out in you, a teasing grin on his face. “told ya it could fit.” the stretch is borderline painful, and like a good boyfriend, he waits for a few to get you accustomed.

you roll your eyes with a soft smile, taking deep breaths before you feel like you could handle him, “move, please…”

“gettin' to it, my love,” geto’s cock is so big you swear you can feel him in your stomach, mouth dropping open when he moves slowly, grunting at your clamping hole, “i don’t think i can last long, baby.”

you breathlessly laugh, “yeah, me e-either.” your back arches off the bed as suguru starts to find a pace, thighs already burning from the taut pull of his muscles, something he’s done unconsciously because of how divine your cunt felt. with a hand you’re rubbing at your clit, evident it’s your first time when your hips are already bucking in mini shockwaves, sucking in his length that it’s not long before you’re moving your pelvis to meet his.

there’s the squelching noises of your pussy and little pants leaving you, pussy already convulsing around him with the release of the twist in your stomach. you’re clenching as you cum hard on his cock and it drives the other crazy, the tightness of your entrance that restricts his movement that he settles for short thrusts just to orgasm, spilling heavy loads of cum into the condom. geto groans into thin air, hips stuttering and pulling out incase there’s a rip in the rubber. it’s obvious you’re still unfamiliar with each other’s body in such an intimate setting, stuttered apologies and cleared throats, but soon geto’s leaning down to lock lips with you to quell the first-time awkwardness.

“was that okay? are you hurt anywhere?” you shake your head with a smile.

“that was more than okay, suguru,” you’re sleepy from the race, from the late night, and it’s clear all you want is sleep. it’s clear when you melt into suguru’s embrace and his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest when you find his hand to twine your fingers together, with his other one rubbing your thigh affectionately.

geto feels that same feeling paired with a certain dread when two weeks later you’re kissing him goodbye at the airport, pink luggage in hand while your nose starts to redden a little. you always know what to say, slowly getting used to geto’s habits. a huff when he’s annoyed, or a quick furrow of his eyebrows when he’s distraught. “it’s not the end of the world, baby.”

suguru only pouts, hands caressing your sides just outside the departure gate. “i know, i just— six months?” 

“you’ll survive,” you smile softly, brushing the bangs from his face, “you did it before me.”

“i know, but now that i’ve known you, you’re all i think about,” geto huffs, “i…”

there’s many more things he wants to say, how he’ll be sure to keep your things until you return, how thankful he is that you (willingly!) gave him an underwear of yours, how he struggles to breathe just seeing your name. he just hopes you’ll miss him just as much, but he restrains himself knowing your flight’s in an hour.

“you’re all i think about, too,” you mumble and swallow uncomfortably, ashamed to have tears already brimming at your eyes, “i’ll come right back after i finish the sem, alright?”

“i’ll hold you to that.” geto smiles, although it’s laced with a sadness, kissing you softly one last time and bearing himself for the countless texts and video calls to your foreign number. you both can taste the salt in your tears, sniffling like a lovesick fool at the immense feelings you have for this man.

love. you haven’t even said the words yet.

as the racer watches you pass through the departure doors, he gives one last glance to the cherry keychain hanging off your carry-on, giving a similar longing glance to the matching berry one on his bag.

geto leaves the airport before anyone can see the wetness in his eyes, too.

#anon #asks #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk scenarios #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen getou #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #suguru geto smut

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Am obsessed with the double trouble au with 2 readers and 2 königs <3 <3 It got me thinking, how do you think younger reader would interact with recruit könig? I feel like she'd honestly be terrified of him at first; he'd seem borderline psychotic (because he's practically drooling over her, always lingering around her and she might not be used to that kind of attention) but she might grow into liking him more once she discovers that she's into his annoying (maybe cocky?) antics.

CW: dubcon groping, dubcon kissing, dubcon everything

Hell yes she’s terrified.

This guy stalks her on social media, gropes her thigh under the table when they're out to eat, tries to move himself on top of her in the car when he leans to kiss her good night. Tells her the sweetest things before plunging his tongue in her mouth, one time he even flattens the passenger seat from under her so that she’s basically trapped.

Luckily he stops when she puts her hands over his chest and pushes him away: the drooly makeout session was getting out of hand, she sort of likes this crazy guy but she doesn’t want their first time to be in a car. Even if the said car is a nice black Hummer :(

He laughs when she escapes the vehicle – his little heartthrob is playing hard to get and it only makes König spiral further in love. He has an odd way of showing it though: sends her breathy voice messages in the middle of the night, so creepy, and one time she even hears a soft, slick sound in the background – is he fapping over there??

Young recruit König could be mistaken for a sadist but he really is just trying to make reader feel appreciated. Like… 24/7 appreciated… Fucked raw appreciated… Crying tears from overstimulation appreciated…

To König, love is not love if your partner isn’t shaking all over after you’re done with them and so the sex is bound to be a bit intimidating too, especially if reader is not that experienced. Poor young thing will be in constant fight or flight mode with him, and because König does the fighting, what else is left for her but to run? He always catches her though, and it takes months before she understands he’s not going to actually *hurt* her. Besides, König only enjoys her tears if they’re born from multiple orgasms.

If she’s crying because she’s scared, recruit König will become confused and oddly caring. So caring that she has to fawn or fake dead next because even this young man’s attempts to be nurturing feel like suffocation…

He asks, what’s wrong, did he hurt you, Liebe? There’s no need to be scared, little mitten. Shit, was he playing too rough…? Ah, you poor thing. Here, let him kiss it better…

…And before you know it, you’re squirming again, trying to get away from his mouth because there’s too much stimulation. König won’t let you go, hell no, you sound too cute when you’re squirming. Are you even trying to wriggle away or against him?

Then there comes the beautiful day when König is so tired from work he can’t even bother to chase her around the house and she’s like...

Do you even love me anymore?!

#wonder what colonel König and our other reader are doing in the meantime #just mowing the lawn outside? tending the garden and letting kids play? lol #maybe they don’t live in a commune but still! it would be fun <3 #double trouble au #I have to confess some of young recruit bled into stalker!König #they’re both such feral dogs ^^

[kissitbttr]

ana babes, i'm stuck in the library studying my ass off but my thoughts always seem to go to fucking frat miguel between the shelves for a quick study break ☹️☹️☹️☹️

-sapphic loser

“i said no, miguel”

he whines, dropping his forehead down on the open book while stomping his foot down like a little boy earning a warning glance from someone who passes by,

“why nooot”

“do you even have to ask?! we’re in a library dumbass. control your dick for one second”

“how am i supposed to do that when you’re sitting in front of me?” he argues, “looking all cute and pouty.. makes me want to bang you all the time”

“miguel!” you warn with a groan, face heating up at his words, “we literally had sex this morning. twice, if i may add. i’m sure you can handle another two hours of you not being inside me”

miguel scoffs, his expression twists into something more looking in disbelief. as if it’s ridiculous for you to assume that,

his arms are crossed, leaning back against the chair with his knee bouncing rapidly. “this is boring”

“i didn’t ask you to come here, miguel. i told you to hang out with the boys didn’t i?”

“they’re being annoying right now”

you give him a look that says ‘and you’re not?’ which causes him to roll his eyes before pouting. “we can go do it three rows behind, baby. no one will notice”

his fingers reaching out underneath the table to play with the skirt of your dress. feeling his touch a little bit further and further which causes you to glare at him,

“jeez—you are no fun” he huffs, wincing when you knock his feet with yours. “i thought my girl would be an exhibitionist—but nope! i thought wrong”

“are you serious?!”you give him a deadpan look, dropping the pen on the table. “we literally fucked at your dad’s office at thanksgiving! that, and also the jacuzzi sex when we had had a ski trip with our friends?! you losing your fucking memory or what?”

that doesn’t seem to phase him enough, just shrugging his shoulders as he look down on your cleavage fingers tapping against the wooden table,

“doesn’t count in my opinion. there weren’t people there”

“god! miguel you are so—

-

“—fucking big, miggy!” desperate moan falls of your lips as he has you pinned against one of the bookshelf, “don’t stop, p-please”

yeah, you decide to give in to his suggestion seeing how it didn’t stop him from bothering you. letting him choose the perfect spot where no one else can see. thankfully, there aren’t a lot of people in the library so it was easy. the main task was to hide from the old librarian lady that never seemed to like the two of you,

his pants are hanging low by the hips whilst your dress is bunched up around the waist. full breasts spilling out of the cups making miguel feel dizzy at the euphoric sight of his girlfriend getting fucked.

miguel’s bulky arms holding you by the thighs as his cock plunges deep into your wet hole. his gaze falls upon your open mouth and down to your bouncing tits, leaning forward to take a nipple between his teeth,

“f-fuck, right there baby—shit” you whisper moan, back arching at the feeling of your sensitive bud getting chewed on. tangling your hands through his hair, tugging it

“puta madre you’re going to be the death of me” he comments with a groan, driving in a bit faster, chest pressing against yours as he tells you to hold onto him tightly. “didn’t i tell you this was a good idea?”

your eyes snap open, seeing that cocky smirk that quirks upon his lips. giving him a light scowl. “don’t be a fucking smart ass. you were just horny”

miguel chuckles deeply, giving you a long sloppy kiss on the mouth, licking your lower lip. “open wide, princesa” he orders with a small tap on your cheek. he grins when you obey him fast, tongue out. miguel spits his drool a bit down to your warm muscle, watching you giggle and close your mouth before swallowing it,

god, you’re so fucking sexy it’s driving him insane,

“almost there, baby?” you nod at the question, locking your legs around him a bit tighter. “fuck—me too—shit, shit”

it is far too impossible to contain your moans, especially you. which is why when you’re about to cum, miguel has to muffle your noises with his palm to keep the security and librarian coming to get the two of you busted. and it is irritating to miguel because he loves your noises. he loves hearing how good he makes you feel,

“cum for me, sweetheart—give it to me” he whispers lowly in your ear, one hand moving to reach the nape of your neck as his other still holding onto your thigh. he’a fucking you even faster that you feel the large shelf behind you is shaking quite rapidly.

“thaaat’s it— that’s it muñeca , oh fuck—fuck, i’m g-gonna—“

he cuts himself off once you both reach your high not a moment after. his cum painting the inside of your velvet walls as you coat his cock with yours. his thrusts are getting sloppy when he’s slowing down. miguel is trying to catch his breath as he watches your head falling back to catch yours. eyeing the beautiful sight before him.

he palms your cheek, thumb grazing against both of your lips making you kiss it. your eyes finding his and flashing him a shy grin.

“muy hermosa” he pecks your lips, “perfecto” your cheek, “mi cariño” one underneath the jawline. “and all mine”

his praises are making you giggle, arms circled around his neck as he helps you get down slowly and fix your dress before fixing his pants,

“i needed that, baby—thank you” you reach on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, but that doesn’t stop miguel from pulling you in to give you a real kiss. his hands kneading your ass. as if the fucking before isn’t enough. “okay, okay—baby—sto-oh!” you try to stifle the laughs when he moves down to kiss your neck, the stubble on his chin tickling you,

“can’t get enough of you, muñeca—shit—i’d give up everything for you, you know that?”

“hmm—even football and OBJ?” you jokingly ask, eyebrow twitching as you feel him freeze and pull away with a slight offended look,

“know your limits, baby”

#this is so messy omg #i hate this one tbh lmao #frat!miguel #miguel o’hara blurbs

[static-radio-ao3]

@jegulus-microfic // february 6 // prompt: murder // words: 1,172 // cw: implied/referenced sexual content // part 2 + part 3

“You’re so fucking infuriating!” James calls out as Regulus makes his way out of the bathroom. He runs a frustrated hand through is hair and tries to slam the door behind him, but James catches it before he can.

“Oh, I’m infuriating?” Regulus asks over his shoulder. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Baby, we both know you do enough looking for the both of us.” Regulus doesn’t need to look at James now to know he has a cocky smirk tugging at his lips, voice smug and pleased.

“Don’t call me baby. And don’t think I like what I see when I look at you.” Regulus rounds another corner, moving further away from the party as he heads toward the stairs. He hates that he still know the house like the back of his hand, even though it’s been months since he’s been here.

He knew he shouldn’t have come but Sirius had asked and Regulus bends easy if his brother is the one pushing.

“Ah, you wound me.” James comes to a stop right in front of him, a hand pressed to his chest in mock hurt. “Besides, I find that a little hard to believe when I only had to smile for you to drop to your knees in the bathroom.”

“A moment of weakness, clearly,” Regulus says as he pushes past James and makes his way up the staircase. He’s not sure where he’s trying to go except away from James. James and his pretty smile and messy hair and hazy eyes that track his movements with a hunger.

And it had been a moment of weakness. A party and one drink too many and James’ eyes lingering on the strip of skin between the hem of Regulus’ shirt and his belt. At the ink peeking out above his jeans, a pattern James was all too familiar with. A brush of fingers against his lower back that had Regulus shivering even in the sultry heat of the room. All it took was a tilt of his head and a smile and Regulus was following James down the hall.

James snorts, short and derivative. “Clearly.”

It does nothing to make him less attractive.

“Like I said, infuriating!” Regulus yells as he stomps up the stairs. He’s not even aware that he is walking toward James’ bedroom. “You and your— your—”

“Me and my?”

Regulus comes to a stop in front of James’ bedroom door. He turns to face him and ignores the thrill in his stomach when he realizes how close they’re standing. He has to tilt his face up just the tiniest bit to make eye contact. Tries to force himself to do it, but his eyes drop down to James’ lips unintentionally.

“You and your Jamesness!”

“Good one,” James huffs. He takes another half-step closer, crowding Regulus against the door. “You really got me there.”

“Oh, I am going to murder you,” Regulus hisses between his teeth. He tries to take another step back, but the door handle digs into his lower back. Cornered. James' hand comes up to rest beside his head and Regulus has nowhere to go when James leans down to murmur into his ear.

“Please make it romantic, at least.” James' breath rustles his curls and Regulus fights not to shiver. There is a hint of beer on his breath and usually, Regulus hates it. But he has learned that he can’t quite manage to hate anything that comes from James Potter.

Instead of doing something embarrassing like leaning up and crushing their mouths together, he grits his teeth and jabs a finger into James’ chest. Desperate to put some distance between them but even more desperate to keep him close.

“I am going to throttle you—” he grounds out, jabbing James’ chest again for emphasis.

“I always did love your hands around my throat.”

“—and I am going to draw and quarter you—” Jab.

“Yeah? You gonna tie me up real nice?”

“—and I am going to set your remains on fucking fire.” Jab.

“No need, you get me hot all on your own.”

James’ free hand comes up to cover Regulus’ before he has the chance to withdraw. He presses it flat against his chest before lifting his hand to Regulus’ face.

“I swear, James Potter, if you put that hand on me, I'm going to get violent."

But the threat is empty. They always are. Because James’ knuckles caress Regulus’ cheek and it takes all his strength to not lean into the touch. James knows it too.

"Oh love,” he murmurs, voice low and a little rough. Something Regulus recognizes but refuses to name. “You usually like it when I put my hands on you.”

And at this point, all bets are off because James is looking at him like he knows.

Like he knows that Regulus spends long nights staring at his ceiling because sleep doesn’t come easy if he’s not in James’ arms. Like he knows that Regulus still buys the coffee James prefers because the smell lingers in the apartment and makes it feel a little less like a haunted house. Like he knows that Regulus hasn’t been on a single date in the months since their break up. Like he knows that Regulus never finished that show they started watching together. Like he knows that regret coats the back of Regulus' throat like bile every time he talks about it.

Like he knows that Regulus is still in love.

Like maybe he feels the same way.

Regulus shifts the hand that’s still resting on James’ chest to the back of his neck and yanks him down, pressing their lips together in a kiss. It’s wet and messy and desperate from the beginning, a moan spilling between when James realizes he can still taste himself on Regulus’ tongue.

James moves impossibly closer, both hands moving to cup Regulus’ face. Regulus wishes they were closer still, wishes he could stay like this forever, because he thinks it’s where he belongs; with James. Always with James.

Lips slick and eyes lidded when they pull apart to breathe, Regulus faintly registers that party is still going on downstairs. Music playing in the distance, a cheer erupting at an unknown achievement, but neither of them feel inclined to return. Regulus tilts his head back for better access when James starts trailing wet a path down the column of his throat, humming at the taste.

“This is probably a bad idea,” Regulus manages between ragged breaths. The last thing he wants to do is stop, but plausible deniability and all that.

“I think you’re a little too faded to drive,” James says, punched out and breathless, the words pressed into the line of Regulus’ jaw as he works his way back up to his mouth. Regulus’ hands clench in James’ hair, earning him a hiss. “Maybe you should stay the night.”

Regulus doesn’t get the chance to agree, too busy stumbling through the now-open door all the way into James’ bed.

#messy exes jegulus! everybody cheer! #don't ask me why regulus decided to argue with james AFTER giving him head #they really said messy exes so it's none of my business actually #partially brought to you by the fact that i looped babylon by 5sos for an hour #regulus black #james potter #regulus x james #james x regulus #starchaser #jegulus #jegulus microfic #mil's microfics #mil's writing #my writing

[smutstevington]

Resensitized (part 2) | Eddie Munson x Reader

(Find part one here)

Summary: Oh, how the tables have turned. Your porn star roommate is getting a little distant and weird after your night together. But don't worry - his attempts at avoiding you won't last long.

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!! Smut (pwp), Pornstar!Eddie x Fem Reader, no use of y/n or defining characteristics, Eddie is a soft dom but has a kink for reader, grinding, pining, reader tempts Eddie and is kind of a BAMF, protected PIV sex, oral fem receiving, fingering, male self-gratification, hickies, communication/consent is sexy, things get very sweet at the end

A/N: Okay so you all loved part one and wanted more so...here we go! I tried to add what I saw requested - sub Eddie, some of his POV, the date, etc. By the way, I read ALL comments and tags, because they make me so happy. So, thank you to everyone who left feedback on part one and I hope this lives up to the hype?? xx

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

Wait, did he just say-?

“What?” you asked, your eyes wide. His face fell.

“Uhh, shit.” He let out a breathy laugh, then jumped out of bed to put his clothes back on. “That was, uh - I don’t know why I said that.” 

As you watched him hurriedly step into his boxers, face flushed and hair a mess, you couldn’t help but notice that you’d never seen him flustered like this before. Sure, during sex, his usual composure was blown to bits by the end, but this was different.

You’d heard about the concept of “post-nut clarity” before- men who think something is a good idea when they’re horny, then immediately regret it after the fact. But you weren’t offended by Eddie’s nerves, because you knew this wasn’t him regretting that he’d had sex with you.

It was him freaking out because he enjoyed it.

Let’s be real - successfully getting Eddie to bust after he’d insisted he wouldn’t be able to made you feel like a goddess. So, instead of feeling rejected or vulnerable, you were riding high. 

“You probably said it because you want to go on a date with me,” you teased, sitting up in the bed and swinging your legs over the edge. 

Eddie looked at you, but he didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes traveled to your breasts, lingered for a moment, then widened.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

“What?”

He pointed at your chest, and when you looked down you saw several dark splotches on your skin. You chuckled.

“Well,” you responded with a sigh. “I think it was worth it. Any on my neck?”

“No! I was careful,” he replied. You eyed him accusingly. “I just got carried away at the end, there.” You smirked at each other, and you realized that despite the fact you’d had sex, the dynamic between you both hadn’t really changed. Not as much as you thought it would have, anyway.

“Well, luckily I stayed true to my word,” you replied, gesturing at his unblemished neck. He checked himself in your mirror to confirm, then nodded, impressed. You grabbed your robe from the floor and wrapped it around yourself, tying it until it was snug, then unintentionally began ogling the way his jeans hung low on his hips, his buttons and belt still undone.

“You see something you like, roomie?” he teased with a smirk. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

Your gaze snapped up to meet his as you bit your lip, guilty.

“Sorry, you’re hot,” you responded.

“And you’re drooling.” 

“Am not.”

“Are too.” 

Eddie took a step forward to close the gap between you, then dragged the pad of his thumb across the skin just below the corner of your mouth. Once again, you were mesmerized by him, your lips parting at his touch. After his thumb finished traveling along the curve of your bottom lip, his hand found a home against your cheek. 

“Eddie,” you said softly. “I would go on a date with you.”

His expression went through a series of small shifts - surprise, amusement, joy - then landed on cockiness, his lips pursed and brow raised.

“Good to know,” he replied. “We’ll, uh - We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, yeah?”

You were feeling incredibly sleepy, so you didn’t fight his avoidance of the subject. Besides, you lived together - you were bound to finish the conversation eventually.

“Okay,” you replied. “Night, Eddie.” He dropped his hand from your face, and you immediately shuddered at its absence

“Night, roomie.”

He didn’t kiss you, even though you very much wanted him to. You wanted him, in all capacities. As a roommate. As a friend. As more than that. You couldn’t quite comprehend it all in your tired state, though, so you let him leave. You heard his footsteps trail off down the hall, and you swore you heard a hesitation before his bedroom door creaked closed behind him. 

-

Fuuuuuuuucking hell. 

Eddie wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This wasn’t how he did things. He didn’t like this. 

Eddie closed his bedroom door and wished he hadn’t. He wished he’d instead stayed in your room and held you while you fell asleep and maybe fucked you a few more times because oh my god????

That was amazing. So amazing he’d nearly forgotten how the whole thing started.

He’d told you it wouldn’t mean anything. He’d told you that it wasn’t a big deal. That it was simply transactional and nothing else. 

He stayed there with his back against the door, breathing rapidly, hearing you walk down the hall and hoping you were coming to him. Instead, you went to the bathroom. He heard the toilet flush, then the sink running, then the sound of you brushing your teeth. 

You lived together. You were friends who signed a lease and who got along and had a good thing going and Eddie felt like he screwed it all up. 

He clutched his chest and let it rise and fall against his hand, his heart pounding beneath his ribs. 

Just calm down, idiot. You’re acting crazy.

He’d grown to care about you quite a bit since you’d moved in together. He loved any time schedules lined up and you got to spend time together. He loved joking around with you, and the way you let him be completely himself with no judgment. He loved how nervous you were around him after you watched his videos for the first time. That was probably his first clue that he kind of maybe liked you as more than a friend or a roommate. His second clue was less of a clue and more of a neon sign. 

Sex hadn’t meant anything to Eddie in a long time. Now it meant everything.

-

Unsurprisingly, you slept better that night than you had in months. You woke up with the sun streaming in through the windows, fresh as a daisy. 

You loved this apartment. You loved your room. You loved your roommate.

You didn’t love him like that. Actually, maybe you did. Or maybe he was just so good at sex you were getting your feelings confused. 

It was still early - Eddie would probably be asleep for a few more hours. It’s one of the reasons why you didn’t see each other much - you woke up early, made breakfast, then left to work or run errands, and he slept in until the early afternoon, worked or rehearsed with his band, then stayed up late practicing guitar or playing video games with online friends in his room. 

You walked into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee ready, then made yourself a bowl of cereal. You checked your phone to see that your horrible Tinder date had messaged you again. 

Had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you wanna do it again?

Hmm. What was the classiest and least hurtful way to say, absolutely the fuck not??

To be honest, you’d forgotten him already, even though it had only been about twelve hours since you’d hooked up. He was entirely irrelevant, now. Every other partner you’d ever had paled in comparison to Eddie. That was just a fact.

Then, you realized you’d never told your friend what happened. You had passed out so immediately you hadn’t had the chance. 

HEY GUESS WHAT

WHAT

I FUCKED MY ROOMMATE

Naturally, she called you pretty much immediately.

“Tell me everything, spare no details,” she greeted. You looked down the hall to see Eddie’s door still closed. 

“I don’t want him to hear me,” you told her.

“Wait, are you still in bed? Did this happen just now?”

“No, it was last night,” you answered, holding your phone to your ear with your shoulder so you could carry your coffee and cereal to your room. You closed the door with your foot and set everything on your desk, then sat down with a sigh. “It was the best sex I’ve ever had, no contest.”

“I’m sooooo jealous,” your friend replied. You laughed. “So, how did it start?” You sipped your coffee and leaned back in your chair, happy to recount the memory. 

“Well, I - that guy from Tinder came over, and it ended up being extremely underwhelming, and Eddie picked up on it because - um, anyway, he wanted to help me out, I guess?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for so long, you wondered if the call dropped.

“I have so many questions,” she finally said. “Why did he pick up on it?”

“He heard my fake noises through the wall,” you answered. 

“He was listening?” she asked, a flirtatiously quality to my voice.

“Said he was curious.”

“Hmmmm.” You already knew what your friend was thinking. “And then he wanted to prove he was better than Tinder boy.”

“Yes.” She waited for you to continue, so you did. “He was all about communicating and doing exactly what I wanted him to do.”

“Hot,” she responded. “Did you - I mean, did he get you to - you know?”

“Yup,” you replied. “Four times.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Oh my God!”

“I know!!”

You realized that you were raising your voice, and you didn’t want to wake Eddie through the thin walls, so you calmed yourself down.

“So, what happens now?” your friend asked. “You’re going to hook up again, right? You have to. Do it for me, if nothing else.”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t just be for you,” you replied. “And I think we will. I mean, I know we will, but - well, he kind of asked me on a date after.”

“He WHAT?!”

“I was confused too!” you told her. “We’re going to talk about it more today.”

“You absolutely have to go on that date,” she said.

“Duh.” You laughed, but were interrupted by a light knock on your door. You brought your voice to a whisper. “Shit, he’s at the door. Talk to you soon.”

You put your phone down on the desk, took a deep breath and walked to the door, then opened it.

Eddie was fiddling with his rings, one corner of his mouth raised into a smile.

“You’re up early,” you noted.

“You were yelling,” he explained, his smile turning into a smirk. 

“That was not yelling,” you replied. “God, these walls are too thin.”

“That is how we got into this whole mess, isn’t it?” he teased, walking into your room and looking around as if it had changed since the night before.

“It’s a mess?” you asked. He turned around and shrugged.

“I was up all night thinking about it,” he began. “I just - it’s not a good idea - you and me starting something, I mean. It won't end well.” You laughed and rolled your eyes. “What?”

“You were the one who asked!” you pointed out. “Way to dangle the carrot in front of my face and pull it away.” He ran his hand through his hair and smiled, bashful. 

“There’s a joke in there somewhere where the carrot is my dick.” You rolled your eyes again. 

“God, Munson, get your head out of the gutter for once,” you told him. “If it’s a bad idea, why did you ask me in the first place?” 

He looked down at you, and you realized that he was wrong. It had changed things, because he’d never looked at you like this before. In an instant, he snapped out of it - clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Look, I like you. I like living with you. And you’re kinda my closest friend right now.”

“I thought you were used to fucking your friends, though,” you countered, referencing a statement he’d made in what felt like eons ago. 

“I was,” he responded. 

Two words, and yet he’d said everything he’d needed to say for you to understand the rest of his thought - I was that way, but I guess I’m not anymore. Not with you.

Well, fuck. He had a point, as much as you hated it. Hooking up with your roommate was a recipe for disaster, usually. It was why you’d resisted the idea for as long as you had.

“Okay,” you sighed. “So, I’m your closest friend, and you don’t want to mess with that.” 

“Exactly,” he agreed. You both stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to go from there. Finally, he puffed out his cheeks and exhaled deeply. “I’m gonna go smoke.” You crumpled your face in disgust.

“Cigarettes are a bad habit,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’ve got an oral fixation,” he replied.

“Oh, I know.”

He was stunned for a moment, and then you caught him fighting a smile. His tongue grazed across his upper teeth, and then he nodded.

“I guess you would,” he responded at last. He went to leave, but paused with one hand grasping the door frame and the other giving you a halfhearted salute. “Catch ya later, roomie.”

Then, he was gone. The conversation didn’t go at all the way you’d wanted it to, but whatever. It was for the best, probably. When you returned to your desk, you saw that your friend had never hung up. You brought the phone to your ear and shook your head.

“You’re too nosy for your own good,” you told her.

“He likes you,” she said.

“Yeah, but you heard him,” you continued. “It’s not happening.”

“Bullshit,” she argued. “That man is obsessed with you. You’ve totally got him hooked, but he’s pushing you away because he’s scared. It’s a tale as old as time, babe. You live together. Any attempts he has at getting over you are doomed to fail.” You laughed, then resumed eating.

“I don’t want to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you said.

“You’re not,” she assured you. “You’re reminding him that he should do the thing he very much wants to do.”

“Maybe.”

“Please,” she begged. “For me. Otherwise I’ll just hear you pine about it some more, and it’s entirely avoidable.”

“Fine,” you agreed. She squealed into the phone.

“Yay!” You smiled against your coffee mug, then realized you’d actually taken one of Eddie’s this morning. “As always, keep me posted.”

“I will.”

She was probably right. Okay, she was right. Relationships and dating were things you had long given up on, ever since your horrific breakup. But one thing you knew about yourself was that, once you found someone you liked, you weren’t able to just…stop thinking about them. 

So, you decided to be a little sneaky. You wouldn’t do anything crazy, you’d just give him a few reminders on what he was missing out on. He liked you, and you liked him, and you knew with 100% certainty that you could get him to break. 

You had this in the bag.

-

Eddie was losing his mind.

For a few weeks, everything went back to normal. You were extremely level-headed, and things were how they’d always been between you. As if that one night had never happened. Which, granted, is exactly what he’d asked for, but he didn’t like it.

He thought about you all the time. He lingered in the kitchen and kept his door open on the off chance that you’d want to talk to him. He felt like a goddamn fucking idiot, honestly. It wasn’t even about the sex, he just wanted to be around you. He wanted to make you laugh. He wanted to make you blush.

But, more often than not, you were doing those things to him instead of the other way around.

He would walk into the kitchen and see you wearing an oversized t-shirt and no pants, reaching for something on the top shelf enough for the shirt to lift and reveal your cotton panties. He’d try not to stare, but he would anyway, and he’d fight the urge to fall to his knees and sink his teeth into your skin. 

He wanted to literally bite you on the ass. What the actual fuck was that about.

You’d sense his presence and look over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions, then smirk. 

“Good morning,” you’d say. 

“Morning,” he’d respond, already fighting a hard-on.

And you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew that it killed him every time you asked him to zip up your dress. You knew it made him blush when you’d come home on hot summer days and walk around in a sports bra and shorts. You knew his heart skipped whenever your playful banter turned flirtatious. You knew why his eyes focused on the edge of your coffee mug after you took a sip - because your lips had just been there. You had to know.

And then, one fateful night, he dreamt of you. 

He was at work, except you were the only other person there. He was confused at first, but then you told him that you were the one he was paired with that day. He nodded, but it felt different than all the other times he’d been told the same thing about other people. He took his shirt and pants off and tried to touch you, but you backed away, tutting and waving your finger at him. 

“Not this time,” you said. “I don’t want you to do anything unless I tell you to. Lie down.”

So, he did. He swallowed and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you climbed on top of him and rocked yourself against him. You were moaning, your eyes closed and lips parted. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but you weren’t going to let him. You kept your hand on his chest, holding him down, biting your lip. 

“Can I -?”

“Shh,” you cooed, focused on what you were doing. “Don’t talk.”

His cock stiffened as you continued to grind on it, and the feeling was indescribable. Your motions picked up, your hips rocking faster and faster, your moaning turning higher pitched and less controlled. 

He watched you - beautiful, sexy, incredible you - and felt the familiar feelings of his own orgasm building within him. Any moment now and he would -

“Fuck!” you cried out, your composure fully unraveling and your movements stuttering. He spilled onto his stomach immediately, feeling the warmth of that and himself and you all around him. You crashed down onto the bed, still breathing heavily, and pulled him into you. 

“Thank you,” you said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. 

Suddenly, he jolted awake in his bed, eyes wide. 

He was sweating a little bit, but thankfully hadn’t jizzed in his boxers. He was grateful to keep up his streak of no wet dreams since his teenage years, especially since he shared a bathroom and washer/dryer with you. That would have been mortifying.

Seriously. What the fuck were you doing to him???

He decided he needed yet another cold shower - he’d been taking a lot of them recently. One would think that him still having sex with other people through all of this would have helped his situation, but it was actually quite the opposite. He didn’t want them, he wanted you. Besides, the sex he was having was for work. He did try once to hook up with one of the other actors after hours, but even that didn’t curb his desire for you in the slightest. 

He probably should have anticipated running into you on his way to the bathroom, considering you lived together and all, but somehow it took him by surprise.

“Hello,” you called to him casually from the kitchen. 

“Uh, hi,” he said, awkwardly standing in the hallway. He saw you sitting there, fully clothed and doing literally nothing remotely sexy, but he blushed anyway as if you were. 

“If you’re about to shower, just know there’s something wrong with the water heater,” you informed him.

“That’s okay,” he replied, perhaps too quickly. “I, uh - I don’t mind.” You put your phone down and looked in his direction, suspicious.

“Okay, weirdo,” you teased. “Anyway, I tried to talk to the landlord but I think he likes you better, so -”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll give him a call,” Eddie said. He pointed at the bathroom awkwardly and nodded. “I’m gonna - uh - yeah.”

Way to go, idiot. She totally knows something is going on with you.

He couldn’t worry about that yet, though. By the time he shut the bathroom door, his dick was so hard he had no choice but to deal with it. He hadn’t been this out of control horny since he was going through puberty. His face was red and his bottom lip was chapped from biting it so much. He stifled his grunts and groans to the best of his abilities, leaving the water running to mask the sound of him jerking off. 

It didn’t take long. It never did when he was thinking about you.

The shower was in fact cold, but he was too busy trying to figure out what he was gonna do to notice the temperature that much. He didn’t come up with anything by the time he was finished washing up, or even after drying himself off. He put a pair of pants on and opened the door, just to jump at the sight of you waiting for him by his room.

“You’re being weird,” you told him.

Yeah. There was no denying that fact.

“I know.” You continued, taking a step closer to him.

“You’re acting like I did when -”

“I know.” You eyed him with a smirk, then gestured for him to follow you to the kitchen. He did so blindly, even though he wasn’t sure why you needed a location change. Honestly, he would have followed you anywhere. 

“Okay, let’s talk about it,” you said, drying off the last of the dishes beside the sink. Ah. So that’s why you needed to be in the kitchen. “Did something happen? Did you find one of my videos?”

“Do you have any?” Eddie asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound desperate. He honestly was curious. But, combined with everything else, that’s how it came off.

“No,” you answered. “Not yet, anyway. So, spill. What happened?” Eddie took a deep breath and leaned with his back to the counter beside you.

“I had a sex dream about you.” You burst out laughing, your eyes squinting so much he could see the crinkles around them. He smiled, joining in with your laughter. “Don’t laugh at me!” You calmed yourself down and shook your head.

“It’s cute! That’s all,” you said. “We’ve all been there, Eds. Was this last night?” He nodded. “First one?” He nodded again. “But you’ve been acting weird around me a lot lately.”

“Woah there, detective,” Eddie replied, his hands up in defense. “What’s with the interrogation?”

“You told me I could ask you anything,” you responded. Eddie groaned, realizing he had in fact said that. Fuck. “Does the dream have something to do with the moaning that was coming from the bathroom just now?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. Fuck these paper-thin walls. This was worse than the time he popped a boner in math class. You stared back at him, smug, and he narrowed his eyes at you. Making people flustered like this was his move, dammit.

“So, what if it was?” he asked with a shrug. You rolled your eyes.

“Just admit that you have a crush on me.” Eddie couldn’t believe how bold you were being. Once again, that was traditionally his move. The tables were turning, and it made his heart race in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Your eyebrows furrowed at his silence. “Um, sorry. Maybe I had this all wrong -”

“I absolutely, 100% have a crush on you,” Eddie answered. “That’s not a secret though. I’ve been down bad since we - I mean, you know. And it’s fucking annoying. I feel like an idiot for telling you I didn’t want to go out with you. I thought that repressing it was for the best, and maybe it is, but at this point I reeeeally don’t think I can hold out much longer. No help from you and your refusal to wear pants around here anymore, by the way. It’s like you’re trying to rile me up.”

You looked down at your oversized sweater and exposed legs, then smiled. 

“That’s exactly what I was trying to do,” you admitted. “I’m glad it worked.”

“That’s mean,” he replied, smirking. “You’re mean.”

“Yeah, but you have a crush on me, sooooo….” He chuckled, then shoved you playfully against the arm. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he responded. “Congratulations, roomie - you’ve ruined me. Let’s go on a fucking date.” You smiled, big and bright, then bit your lip. Eddie realized he’d do anything to make you smile like that any chance he got. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

-

You settled on going out to dinner. Nothing groundbreaking, but a date’s a date. Eddie originally suggested going to the arcade and playing laser tag, but you told him that was more of a third date kind of thing. 

Secretly, you both already knew that a third date would happen, so you didn’t stress the first. It was all a formality, anyway. A symbol instead of a step. Like, you already were close friends who lived together, and you’d already had sex. So it felt like you were going in reverse more than anything.

At least that’s how you thought it would feel. Instead, it felt perfectly natural - as if this was a normal situation that went in a normal order. You laughed, you people-watched, you flirted, and all was well. 

“Your place or mine?” he teased after he’d paid the check.

“Mine,” you answered. “I don’t have sex on the first date, Edward.” Eddie snickered.

“Bullshit,” he replied. You smirked, then got your purse as you both stood up from the table. He took your hand to walk you out of the restaurant, and neither of you even really noticed you’d never done that before. 

“I’m serious, actually,” you responded. “I mean, I used to be that way. Before I moved here and had that one night stand.”

“That godawful one night stand,” he reminded you. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well it led to us hooking up, so at least something good came from it.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said with a grin. “Four times, if I recall correctly?” You blushed, biting your lip at the memory.

“Has anyone ever told you how humble you are?” you joked. He laughed, nudging his shoulder into yours.

“Not once,” he responded. 

It was a quick drive home, and conversation continued to flow easily. You were talking about some movie you’d both seen as a kid when you walked through your front door, and you’d nearly forgotten that you had just come from a date. None of it felt new, somehow.

“Well, I’d say that was pretty successful,” you said once there had been long enough of a silence. You went to grab yourself a glass of water at the sink, when Eddie said something behind you that sent a chill down your spine.

“Do I get to kiss you goodnight?” 

You spun around to face him, then nodded. He closed the gap between you and put a hand at the small of your back, then laid his other hand against your cheek, his fingers wrapping around to the back of your neck. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours - slowly, gently, respectfully.

The moment you kissed back, his composure broke. He breathed you in, parting his lips to deepen the kiss, tightening his grip on you. Your arms went over his shoulders so you could be even closer to him. His tongue grazed your lower lip, then dove past it to lick the roof of your mouth. You moaned unintentionally, then broke from him just enough to speak.

“Woah,” you said, your head spinning. 

“Sorry,” he replied, putting his forehead against yours. “Too much?”

“Not at all,” you answered. “How long have you wanted to do that?” 

“Too long,” he responded, breathlessly. “Too goddamn long.” You gave him another peck on the lips, then cherished the way he chased you when you didn’t go back in for more.

“You want me again?” you asked him, softly. He nodded.

“Yes.”

“Now?” you asked, as if you didn’t already know the answer. You could already feel him stiffening against you.

“Always.”

Within moments, his lips were on yours. His hands quickly tangled in your hair and pulled you deeper into him, your bodies flush with one another. He walked you backward until your ass hit the kitchen counter, then wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and lifted you up so you were seated. His hands abandoned the small of your back and went to your thighs, spreading them apart so he could stand between them. All the while he kissed you and touched you and and breathed into you. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said. He was so close to your skin, you could feel the vibrations of his words. “Please let me make you feel good again.”

He nipped at your earlobe, causing you to shudder. Your eyes flashed up to the ceiling, all other thoughts fading away.

“You are,” you responded breathlessly. “You do.”

The confirmation seemed to only motivate him even more. His fingers began trailing up your skirt as he dropped to the floor, a frenzied desire in his eyes.

Ohhh lord. Seeing him on his knees for you turned you on more than you could have ever anticipated. 

“Please,” he begged, placing a quick kiss on your thigh. While it was tempting, you didn’t really want to have sex in the place where you prepared food.

“Yes,” you permitted. “But not here.”

“Why not?” he whined. “I eat here all the time.” You kicked him playfully, rolling your eyes.

“That’s gross,” you said. He stood up, grinned, and held his hand out for you to take.

“Tell me it’s gross in two minutes when I have you screaming my name again.” Your breath hitched as you took his hand and followed him to your room - you might have gone to his room instead this time, had it not been ten feet further away. You didn’t want to waste a single moment. 

“You’re dangerous, Eddie Munson.” 

“That’s what they tell me,” he replied with a smirk. “Now, take off your clothes and pick a number.” You were confused, but did as told anyway.

“Uhh, 7?” you said as you lifted your dress over your head. His eyes bore into the newly revealed parts of you - your stomach and chest and legs. 

“Pssh, easy,” he said, his gaze still fixed to you. “Let’s get this out of the way, too.” His arms went around you to unfasten your bra.

“What’s the number mean?” you wondered, shivering at his touch. Your bra fell to the floor beside your feet.

“Oh, it’s the number of times I’m gonna make you come,” he replied casually. Your eyes widened.

“What?!” In an instant, his hands groped at your breasts while his lips went back to your neck. “Eddie, I - mf,” you murmured, already succumbing to his influence. “What if I’d chosen a higher number?” Eddie broke away from your neck to look into your eyes with a smirk. You jolted when his thumb and forefinger flicked across your nipple.

“Then we would have to be here for a while,” he said. “Do you wanna change your answer?”

You stared at him, dumbly, unable to comprehend how you’d found yourself in a situation this perfect.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you replied.

So, he did. One hand grabbed and pulled at your hair while he kissed you passionately. Then, he kissed down your jaw, to your collarbone, between your breasts, on your stomach. He left a trail of fire all the way down to your panties, your core already throbbing for him. Once he was back on his knees, he yanked your underwear down to your ankles and lifted one of your feet so you could spread your legs apart. 

His mouth was on you in seconds. No time for teasing. As he licked up your slit, you searched for something to hold onto. The only thing around was him, so you grabbed a hold for dear life, gripping a fistful of his hair. He groaned in pleasure as he tasted you, and you felt your knees buckling. He slipped a finger into you as his tongue swirled circles around your clit. He pulsed in and out of you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. You felt yourself cresting over the edge as your fingers tangled in his hair, and before you knew it you were losing your balance and falling to your knees across from him. While his head had separated from you, his finger remained buried inside you, undulating against your g-spot.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” you muttered. You could tell that your first orgasm was just prefacing your second. “Don’t stop.” You shifted yourself until you could lie on your back against the floor. Eddie threw one of your legs over his shoulder and continued eating you out as he fingered you. Your hips grinded against him of their own accord as you moaned and squirmed beneath him. 

And then you felt that tightening deep in your stomach - just as you’d suspected - and all of a sudden you were shaking and exploding with pleasure, tears springing to your eyes.

“Fuck!” you shouted, quickly slapping your hands over your mouth to keep quiet. Eddie used his free hand to tug your arms away from your face, tutting in disapproval. 

“Don’t censor yourself, sweets,” he cooed. “I want to hear you scream.” He added another finger inside you, stretching you out. You gasped in delight. “I’ve wanted to hear it ever since that first night,” he continued. He kept his hands on you but crawled forward so his mouth could reach your breasts. He kissed one, gently. “I was hearing that pitiful excuse for sex through the walls and all I could think about was how I could fuck you better, and how you’d sound when you weren’t faking it.” He sucked right beside the last remaining hickey from the first time he’d done this. Your back arched, your heart beating so fast you were practically vibrating.

“Eddie,” you moaned. “I need you inside me right now.”

“I am inside you,” he said, flexing his fingers in a way that made your hips roll against his hand. You shook your head and reached down to his jeans, grabbing his cock and running your hand up the shaft. He stiffened, his eyes closing and motions stuttering. 

“This,” you clarified, tightening your grip. “I need this.” He groaned, then nodded.

“Fuuuuuuck, okay,” he said. He pulled his fingers out of you, licked them clean, stood up, pulled you up, then started stripping as you got a condom from your bedside table. By the time you’d retrieved it and turned around, he was fully naked and waiting eagerly to put it on. He ripped the foil open with his teeth and rolled it over his length, then sat you on the edge of the bed and lined himself up with your entrance. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, his eyes dark and pupils blown out. With a final nod of your permission, he thrust himself inside you all at once.

You whimpered, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him completely filling you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels crossed under his ass. He pushed himself in and out of you, guided by your feet, falling into a steady rhythm. You bit at his shoulder and neck, drawing groans of pleasure from his lips. You could feel his body getting warmer to the touch, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. You leaned back and laid down fully on the bed, and he quickly followed you. You both crawled further onto the bed until his body was stretched out and hovering over yours. You tightened your legs around him again and threw your head back, enjoying the way he continued pumping himself in and out of you. 

“Tell me that nobody else fucks you like I do,” he said in a husky tone. Your eyes were closed to keep yourself from being entirely overstimulated.

“N-nobody,” you stuttered. “Nobody fucks me like you.”

Suddenly, he was kissing you, and you were kissing him back, and he was fucking you, and you were rocking your hips against him, and his thumb rubbed at your clit, and you were coming again, and he was coming with you. Your mouths were open against each other, gasping and shaking, and then your eyes opened.

He was looking at you, really looking. As you returned his gaze, you got lost in it all. His hips stalled with his cock buried deep in you, but neither of you dared to move. You just kept looking into each other's eyes, breathing deeply, and that’s when you realized that one of your hands was interlocked with his. You kissed him again, slowly and leisurely, before sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting it. He moaned softly, appreciatively, then sighed.

“I lied before, about having a crush on you,” he said. You raised your eyebrows, mind still reeling from the sex.

“Oh?”

“I think it might be more than that,” he explained. “I mean, it is more than that.” Your eyes widened.

“Oh.” He waited for you to respond. “Just - give me a minute. I’m still in outer space.” He flashed a small, crooked smile, then pulled out of you slowly. After he settled back into bed, you instinctively curled up next to him, which he happily accepted. 

This was nice. This was better than nice. This was perfect.

“I know that because of my work -”

“It’s more than that for me, too,” you interrupted. You angled your head to look up at him. 

“Yeah?” he asked. You nodded.

“And I don’t know how I’m gonna feel about dating someone who has sex with other people at work,” you continued. “But right now, I don’t care. Usually, I’d be jealous, but - but I’m not.”

“You really wanna give this a shot?” he wondered, desperately trying to hide his excitement. You nodded again, smiling.

“I don’t think we have much choice,” you replied. 

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie said, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s do this, then.”

You kissed him on the cheek, then went back to cuddling up to his chest. He hummed, content. 

He was pretty sure he loved you, but that was for another night. This night would be spent making you come another four times, as promised.

Eddie was always true to his word.

(Next part)

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

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#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #resensitized

[jaylaxies]

what are your hard thoughts on a Jock!Jeno x cheerleader! reader x Jock!jaemin scenario?

jeno and jaemin are as cocky as the jocks get and they have all the reason to be that way, they’ve got it all—looks, body, brain and of course, the perfect strategy to win every single match they play. they’re always together like the flocks of a feather. when you come to their university as the freshman, their junior and also join the cheerleading team, jeno can’t help but notice you jumping around in the little outfit, cheering for them with the widest smile on your face.

he thinks that you deserve a reward for being so good at your job, getting everyone jealous when he approaches you, asking for your number—something he never does in the usual setting, but that’s when jaemin notices you for the first time too, your pretty eyes, body, and your glossed lips, smirking with his tongue pushed inside his cheek. he gets exactly why jeno wants you, and that’s why he wants you too. “the louder you cheer for me, the harder i’ll fuck you,” jeno promises, and jaemin only watches the exchange from afar.

“settling for a girl? that’s so unlike you, jeno lee,” jaemin smiles teasingly and jeno laughs, “don’t think i haven’t noticed you staring at her too,” jeno pointed out, and jaemin only shrugged, “can’t blame me, she’s pretty,” he said, causing jeno to smile lazily, “wanna share? split her cunt with our cocks?” he suggests and jaemin’s eyes shine with amusement as he never actually indulged in a threesome before, yet he wasn’t the one to give up on such offer, especially when his eyes travelled back to you and your tits that bounced with your movements.

as expected, the boys ended up winning the game, winking your way and giving up the celebratory party for the very first time, only to take you back to their shared apartment, jeno kissing you fervently the second you stepped in while jaemin watched till you got to the bed, taking over and kissing you all over your body, not caring for your outfit and his strong hands ripped them in two, making you gasp, “so fucking pretty,” you whine as jaemin worked on your cunt, his soft lips on your folds while jeno bit and marked your tits.

your eyes widen dd watching how big their cocks were, they surely wouldn’t fit in, “gonna take us both, yeah? such a good girl, just a little more,” jeno whispered when you started crying, gasping for air when he pushed his thick cock inside your cunt, jaemin making sure to not let you breathe as he shoved his length inside the warmth of your mouth, fucking you together but not telling you reach your climax, simply because they wanted it when they both had their cocks inside you. it felt as if your pussy was being ripped apart yet it felt so good as you cried freely, both their cocks occupying your hole, not fitting properly but making you go crazy enough to squirt all over, making them go even more feral.

you were their new play toy now.

#🤍 — acescavern! #nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #jeno smut