#white bugatti

[mrs-trophy-wife]

#bugatti #Chiron #super car #luxury car #ultra luxury car #ultra luxury #luxury #expensive #fast car #race car #car #white #white car #hyper car

[blueiskewl]

1996 Bugatti EB110 Super Sport

#Bugatti #1996 Bugatti EB110 Super Sport #automobile #car #supercar #sports car #french sports car #luxury #luxury goods #luxury car #luxury living #luxury lifestyle #billionaire #billionaire lifestyle #rich #expensive #$$$ #white #blanco monaco #sexy

[kidsproductonline]

Blue and white logo t-shirt for boys by Bugatti Junior. Made from soft cotton, it features blue and white colorblock and the brands logo and car print in navy and white on the front and logo print at the back neck. It has white trims on the sleeves.

Visit us for this Product : Bugatti Boys Blue & White Logo T-Shirt   

Visit us for more Product like this : Bugatti Designer Products online  

#bugatti #tshirt #kids tshirt #girls tshirt #tshirtdesign #t shitrt #white tshirts #branded clothing #kids branded #navy blue tshirts #navy blue #tshirts #designertshirt #branded #branded tshirt

[chibura]

Bugatti Veyron White Centenaire

#Bugatti Veyron White Centenaire

[scarowsims]

Bugatti Veyron 16.4

#16.4 #white #bugatti #veyron

[chloelikesthesims]

Bugatti Veyron White Centenaire

#Bugatti Veyron White Centenaire

[lawrence-lowen]

#juxtaposition #Yohji Yamamoto #bugatti #black and white #monochrome #comparison

[lolololol27511-blog]

Bugatti Veyron SuperSport '300' finished in full white with polished Aluminum wheels. 1 of the 8 U.S spec cars & 1 of 48 SuperSports worldwide. credits: @soughtafterautos #bugatti #bugattiveyron #bugattiveyronsupersport #hypercar #white https://www.instagram.com/p/CodTJFMST7Z/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#bugatti #bugattiveyron #bugattiveyronsupersport #hypercar #white

[mandino-brel]

#opa #molsheim #alsace #bugatti #chiron #two tone #bi-color #blue #white #elegance

[just-jordie-things]

national anthem - gojo satoru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 12.2k warnings: mentions of drinking and smoking (cigarettes + weed) summary: you're a special grade? with no life experience? someone like you sure is lucky gojo satoru wants to take you under his wing and show you how to enjoy life. gojo satoru sure is lucky that someone like you teaches him how to love. more info: set in 2006, friends to lovers, gojo sort of wants to corrupt reader but he's too soft on her, he's an overconfident coward in this idk you figure it out

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i’m your national anthem, god you’re so handsome, take me to the hamptons, bugatti, veyron // he loves to romance ‘em reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon // he says to be cool but, i don’t know how yet // wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Two Special Grade Sorcerers in one place was already a fight for territory and ego- at least to Gojo Satoru.  Geto Suguru never really felt a push to prove himself, but his white haired counterpart seemed to enjoy a good ol’ fashion pissing competition, so when Satoru felt like being competitive, he often just went along with it.  Besides, there was a certain entertainment in watching him lose.  Satoru would tell anyone that he didn’t feel threatened around Suguru- or Yuki, when she was around- but there was an undeniable flicker of excitement in his eye when an opportunity came along to show off.

A show off, that was the perfect description for the first impression (y/n) got when she first met the infamous Six Eyes.  She wasn’t sure what to expect arriving at Jujutsu Tech on that sunny afternoon in 2006.  The mixture of giddiness and unease from picking everything up and starting life over at the ripe age of eighteen had her insides all fluttery, but she was fairly certain her excitement outweighed all else.

The manager who’d picked her up from the train station and drove her to her new home had given her a short introduction to the other sorcerers her age, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the whirlwind of their first official meeting.

“So you’re the new Special Grade meat!” 

She’s startled as soon as she approaches the group of three.  She’d been all smiles, ready to hold out her hand and introduce herself properly, but it appeared they’d already known all about her.

“Shut up Satoru, you sound like a douchebag,” The dark haired sorcerer beside the loud one shouldered past, reaching out to be the first to shake her hand.  (y/n) still has a bewildered look on her face as she reciprocates, confusedly glancing between the two.  “Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.  I’m Geto, but everyone calls me Suguru anyways, so you can too” 

“Alright,” She says through an airy laugh.  “Then I’m (y/n)... the Special Grade meat”

Suguru shares the laugh as he drops his hand, and suddenly the white haired one is darting forward, pushing him aside just as he’d done to him moments ago, and grabbing (y/n’s) hand before she could fully lower it.  Her eyes are wide, every instinct telling her to take three steps back, but she lets him shake it at a wild pace.  

The cursed energy that comes off of him in waves hits her like a truck, solid, undeniable, strength.  Reason tells her that he could end her life with his handshake alone.  The goofy, shit eating grin on his face tells her otherwise.

“Gojo Satoru!” He introduces, still shaking her hand.  “But you already knew that, right?” 

Wordlessly, she shakes her head at him, curiosity striking her the longer she took him in.  A show off for sure, with the volume of his voice despite being right in front of her, with the performance in his ongoing handshake, with that stupid smile he hadn’t wiped off his face yet, with all that cursed energy- Gojo Satoru was a sight to behold and he knew it, too.

Back home it would’ve ticked her off, but for some reason, there’s a compulsion to her amusement in him.  Slowly, her bewildered expression morphs into one of pleasant surprise.

“Can’t say I had the slightest idea,” She replies, and that seems to do the trick to get his smile to falter, even momentarily.  Technically, she knew of him, only because of the manager’s due diligence in giving her the names of her new colleagues, but she wasn’t about to treat him to that information.  “But I do now,” Her smile brightens, “You’re the guy with the white hair” 

He scoffs at first, not out of disgust or annoyance, but pure surprise at the genuine response.  The two behind him, Suguru, and the girl she hadn’t met quite yet, Ieiri Shoko, were nearly doubled over in laughter.  Loud cackles that echoed across the courtyard they stood in.  (y/n) merely held her polite smile as she waited for Gojo Satoru’s full reaction.

His shit eating grin softened into a more authentic smile, amusement casted over his features as he gazed down at her through his lenses.  He didn’t need his Six Eyes to tell him she was strong, her own cursed energy seemed to buzz and crackle right off of her like electricity.  As if she’d been gathering up static for so long and it was dying to leap right out of her.  It would be overwhelming, if he wasn’t the sorcerer he was.

“Always noticed for my looks first,” He sighs dramatically, and (y/n) raises a brow at him, slightly amused, slightly intrigued.  “But I guess we’ll have that in common, huh, Special Grade?”

Before she’s given any real time to react, or even process what he’s said, he’s interrupted. 

“Alright, that’s enough of you, you’re making us all look bad now,” 

The third sorcerer with the lab coat and an unlit cigarette in her hands is the next to leap forward, grabbing Gojo Satoru by the elbow and forcibly yanking until he gives in and drags his feet back to Suguru.  (y/n) watches as he mutters under his breath and makes wild hand gestures to Suguru- who seems to roll his eyes and remain otherwise unresponsive.

“You won’t get used to him, so get used to knowing that now,” The girl says, capturing (y/n’s) attention.  “I’m Shoko, I’ll be your best friend here, alright? Don’t let him get too comfortable” 

(y/n) giggles, introducing herself yet again with a shy fit of laughter.

“Seems like he gets comfortable pretty quick,” She muses, casting a glance over to where Suguru was trying to drag his friend away.  He didn’t seem to be winning that fight, and it wasn’t long before Gojo was going boneless against him.  “So, small class size, huh?” 

“Yeah, well, not a lot of jujutsu sorcerers out there,” Shoko shrugs.  “And… we had a few transfers to Kyoto.  Which were totally not due to that idiot” She adds the second part under her breath, but when (y/n) laughs, she does too.

“Well, I’ll try not to transfer, then” 

Shoko brightens, just a little bit, but enough to be noticed.

(y/n’s) sure she’ll stay true to her word.  Besides, it had seemed like her time at Jujustu Tech would prove to be interesting… maybe even fun.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The smell of tobacco wasn’t pleasant, but she tries to put up with it for the sake of Suguru and Shoko.  It appeared that the most exciting part of their night was sharing a smoke by Shoko’s window, as they’d visibly relaxed once they’d sparked up.

It didn't matter that (y/n) didn’t voice her discomfort, because Gojo Satoru could see it written all over her.  The way her eyes widened when Shoko had pulled out the pack, the way her nose crinkled when Suguru lit the first cig, and even now, how she can’t stop anxiously glancing over to the two of them as they smoked.

“You’re not a smoker, huh?” 

She’d been sitting against the wall, a mostly forgotten magazine in her lap when Gojo had approached her, crouching down to her level to properly gain her attention.

“Huh?” She’s lost at first, but it only takes a short nod of his head towards the window for her mind to catch up.  “Oh, um, I guess I’ve never really smoked before, but, no, I’m not a smoker”

It’s unexplainable, the way she stammers over her explanation like it’s a lie.  Because it’s the complete truth.  She’d never smoked a cigarette in her life, and she’d never been around anyone who did.  The smell was only familiar because of how often it wafted amongst the streets, but it was always unpleasant.  Trying it for herself had never really crossed her mind.

“You’ve never tried it?” Gojo tilts his head curiously, and for a moment she thinks he resembles a cat, but before she could tell him the connection, he’s standing up again and striding over to the window.

She can only watch as he swipes the pack of cigarettes from between the two, scowling when he pops open the box.

“Did you buy this yesterday?” He scoffs, plucking out one of the sticks before tossing it back at Suguru, who catches it with ease, but frowns back at the white haired sorcerer.  “Jeez, addicts much?” 

“Relax, Satoru” Suguru rolls his eyes just as Gojo snatches the lighter off the windowsill as well.  It earns him another glare, but neither Suguru or Shoko comment on it, instead returning to whatever conversation they’d been having before Gojo had so rudely interrupted them.

It’s not until he’s returning to her spot on the floor and taking a seat beside her that she realizes why he’s done this.

“Here ya are,” He grins, holding the items out to her in both hands.  (y/n’s) eyes wander between the two, the cancer stick in his left hand, the hot pink lighter in his right, before looking up at him and shaking her head.  “What, you don’t wanna try it?”

“I just… I mean…” She struggles to give him a proper reason.  She doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, because she couldn’t care less what other people chose to do, but she wasn’t about to lie to him and say she was ecstatic to get a taste of the thing she knows is bad for her.  “I don’t think I’d like it…” 

“Well, that’s alright,” Gojo chuckles as he shrugs his shoulders.  “I hate it.  It’s nasty,” 

He goes so far as to stick his tongue out towards the window, where Shoko had clearly overheard his less-than-quiet comment.  She returns the favor, but Gojo’s already turned back to (y/n).

“It reeks.  And it burns a bit.  And honestly? I’d rather spend the money on mochi,” He tells her honestly, and it earns him a giggle, so he smiles a little wider.  “But you deserve to at least try it, right?” He asks, wiggling the lighter at her.  “Just to say you did it?” 

“I’m not really wired that way,” She admits, her laughter turning nervous, but nonetheless, she finds herself plucking the lighter from his fingers.  “Why try something I know I’ll hate?” She asks, and generally, it’s a rhetorical question, but Gojo’s answer does have her curious.

“Because,” He shrugs again.  “Trying new things is the fun part,” He suggests, before adding, “And just because you can” 

Her eyes drift down to the pink lighter in her hand.  She rolls it over between her fingers a few times, fiddling with it as the idea settles in her mind.  She gets lost enough in thought that she doesn’t even realize how fluidly she’s twirling the small object between her fingers like it was a trick of misdirection, but Gojo finds amusement in how easily and quickly she’s able to maneuver it about the back of her knuckles.

“I can’t say I have an argument for that,” She tells him finally, turning to him with a small smile, and her hand outstretched.  “But when I hate it, you can’t be mad” 

He doesn’t place the cigarette in her palm like she’s expecting, instead raising it towards her lips, flicking it slightly to prompt her to open her mouth.

“Don’t bite down too hard, you’ll ruin it,” He instructs.  She blinks at him in surprise, but follows along anyways and parts his lips so he could set it between them.  She keeps her hold on it as light as possible.  “And the taste of tobacco is awful,” He adds in a quieter voice.

She tries not to think about how close he sits to her, or how his fingers brush over her bottom lip and then her chin as he places the cigarette between her lips, but the harder she tries not to think about it, the more he thinks about it.

“Want me to light it for you?” He asks, and now he’s the one to hold his palm out to her.

Too nervous to speak with the cig in her mouth, she gives him a small nod, and places the lighter back in his hand.  He grins when her fingers drag over his before she pulls her hand away.

“Alright, don’t overthink it,” He says, leaning forward a little closer with the lighter in hand.  “I’ll light it, and all you gotta do is breathe in.  Not too harsh, just a little inhale, got it?” 

She shrugs and nods, certain she could understand the complexities of smoking a cigarette, but she had a feeling that Gojo Satoru liked knowing what to do, and showing her what to do, so she let him.  It couldn’t hurt, right? If she fed his ego just a little bit? 

With a flick of his thumb a small flame erupts, and soon the end of the cigarette is burning.  Just as he said, she takes in a short breath, just enough to feel the smoke touch her lungs.

Her eyes meet his when he pulls the lighter away, but he stays sitting closely in front of her.  Even through the dark lenses he always kept perched on his nose she could tell that he was eager to watch her reaction.

She rips the stick from her mouth and coughs, and even once all the smoke is expelled, she sticks her tongue out with the desire to rid her mouth of the terrible flavor.  

Gojo chuckles quietly, taking the cigarette from between her fingers as he stands up for a moment.  He’s sitting again just a second later, passing her a bottle of water that she takes and chugs down greedily.  He’s still laughing when he passes the cigarette to the window dwellers.

“So you were right, huh?” He asks her after she’s got half the water down.

She nods back at him, taking a few more gulps to soothe the ache in her chest from her own coughing.

“But at least you tried it?” 

Finally pulling the bottle away, she turns to face him again.  Her brows are pinched together with annoyance, but there’s a flicker of a smile on her lips that Satoru can’t ignore.  It makes his heart beat at a disastrously wild pace. It makes him grin.

“Oh, I’ll be telling everyone you peer pressured me,” She tells him assuredly, to which he scoffs, but before he could argue, she continues.  “But… at least I tried it” 

The momentary defensive stature he’d taken relaxes just as quickly, and he even laughs a bit.

“Atta girl, Special Grade,” He teases.  “That’s the spirit” 

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling as she picks up her magazine and settles back against the wall in a comfortable position.  Gojo doesn’t have much interest in fashion, but he sits beside her and follows along as she flips through it anyways.  

She supposes it’s because he has no interest in smoking with the others, that this was the better option.  He supposes it’s just because her shampoo smelled so light and fruity that he wouldn’t mind lingering around just a bit longer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[gojo s.] are you up?? 1:46 a.m.

[y/n] it’s almost 2. 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] fast response! so ur wide awake! :D 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] put on something warm and come to the window 1:48 a.m.

Gawking at her phone, (y/n’s) sure this is just some kind of stupid joke.  There was no way if she peeked out her window now that Gojo Satoru would be standing out there.  This late at night? On a Tuesday? They had training tomorrow bright and early- and wasn’t there a curfew?

She’s not sure what comes over her when she actually shuffles out of her warm covers and tiptoes over to the window.  Peeking through the curtain just to be sure wouldn’t hurt, right? 

Sure enough, when she pulls the curtain aside just enough to look outside, Gojo Satoru is standing out there.  He must’ve been expecting her to check, because he’s looking straight at her, grinning from ear to ear before he waves.

(y/n) shuts the curtain and snatches her phone off the bed.  Just as she begins to furiously type, she’s getting an incoming call.  With a huff, she answers it and brings the phone to her ear.

“Gojo Satoru, what the hell are you doing outside my-” 

“I knew you’d be down!” He’s shouting before she could finish her scolding, and (y/n) winces as she tilts the speaker of her phone away from her ear to relieve the ringing he’d caused.  “Get dressed and hop on out!” 

“Hop on out-? What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t you wanna go do something fun?” 

“Right now?” She lets out a humorless laugh.  “Gojo, it’s the middle of the night, I’ve been trying to sleep” 

“I can’t sleep either,” He replies, completely missing the point, but it’s only then that she starts to hear him out.  “I need a midnight snack,” He adds, this time his voice filled with it’s usual syrupy level of glee.  “I’m sure it’d help you, too!” 

It’s a ridiculous idea.  She had training in about five hours from now, and so far tonight she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.  Gojo Satoru might’ve been all powerful, but that didn’t mean he had power over her, he couldn’t just make her go because he wanted a snack and company to go along with it.  It would be incredibly easy to tell him no and hang up the phone, and it would keep her out of trouble, too.  A double win.

Yet, she’s at her dresser and pulling off her pajamas before she’s even given him a verbal response.

“I hear movement, are you getting dressed?” He asked her, full of hope and excitement.

“Yes,” She huffs as she gets into her uniform slacks.  They were the only pants she owned that weren’t pajamas- and there was no way she was going out in the middle of the night with Gojo Satoru in hello kitty pajamas.

After throwing her jacket over her tee shirt and buttoning it up enough, she crept back over to her window, pulling open the curtains properly, her phone still in her hand.

“Oh good-!” 

Before he could finish whatever he was saying, she snaps her phone shut and slides it into her back pocket.  She needed both hands to slide the window open, at least if she wanted to do it carefully enough that it didn’t creak and squeak when she did so.

Even from a story below, she can tell that Gojo is pouting at his own phone before he puts it away.  He seems to get over it once she’s got her window open and she’s swinging a leg out, though.

“Come on down, Juliet, I’ll catch you!” He hollers, louder than he should have.

(y/n) swings her other leg out, sitting on the window sill almost completely leaning out of the building.

“Move out of the way, Gojo” She hisses down at him, but he only extends his arms, waving his fingers at her to prompt her to come down already.

He’d been pacing around out here for the last forty-five minutes debating on texting her, so he was antsy to finally get going.

Giving up, (y/n) pushed off the window sill, and landed on her feet with ease and perfect balance seconds later.  She certainly didn’t need him to catch her, but he’s right in front of her anyways, hands settling on her shoulders as if she wasn’t standing before him in perfect condition.

“Good?” He asks, and he’s still grinning ear to ear, but it’s a little different.

She’s not sure how she didn’t notice before, but he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.  She could see the crinkles at the corners of his bright blue eyes when he smiled.  For a half a second, she could’ve gotten lost in the cerulean waves swirling in his irises.  His eyes were bright even in the dark, they practically gave the illusion of glowing.

“Yeah- yeah,” She chokes on her answer, and quickly averts her gaze before he could tease her for staring at him so blatantly.  “Let’s just get going, I don’t want to get caught” 

“I’d never get us caught,” Gojo scoffs, apparently offended that she could even think such a thing.  “Besides, you’ve got a clean track record, you’d probably get off easy anyways” 

She rolls her eyes at him as they start their trek off campus, but she can’t help the small smile of amusement on her face.  Gojo wasn’t wrong, she did have a squeaky clean record, which she’d proudly maintained since transferring here, but now…

It wasn’t that she was aiming to rebel, she didn’t need to do anything crazy, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t live a little… right? And what was one trip to a twenty-four hour convenience store in the grand scheme of things? 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re obnoxious?” She asks, but her voice betrays her with soft fondness, and it’s obvious that Gojo notices with the way he looks over at her with the largest, stupidest grin on his face.

“Never with a straight face,” He replies, only to laugh when he catches her smiling at him as soon as he looks at her.  She wants to roll her eyes again, but she doesn’t.  She just laughs with him and doesn’t argue.  “You can admit you like my company, I won’t tell anyone,” He adds, only partially teasing.  “”Promise” 

“You better keep that promise,” (y/n) mutters back.  “For whatever her odd reason, Shoko thinks I’m cool, and I’d like to keep that status” 

“That’s because you perform your twisted little cursed technique on her every time she asks,” Gojo says.  “Shoko’s got an obsession with the occult, and you are certainly all things occult” 

The corner of her lips tilt into a smirk.  She wouldn’t necessarily agree, but he wasn’t wrong about her cursed technique.  With the ability to access anyone’s thread of fate- that little string hidden in their soul that keeps them alive as long as it’s intact- her cursed technique was a bit more involved than the other Special Grades’ she’d met thus far.  

It was gruesome when executed on an assignment, Gojo had seen it first hand only once.  With a plunge of her hand into a curse’s body she’d retrieve the thread, and rip it apart with both fists.  The curse was exorcized immediately and they called it a day sooner than expected.

Shoko, however, enjoyed seeing it the way anyone liked a party trick.  She’d clasp her hands together and beg for (y/n) to open up her soul for her.  All of her hours spent in the morgue and the lab might’ve been warping her curiosity, but she was always delighted when cursed energy would encase (y/n’s) hand and she’d reach right into her body as if she phased right through the skin and bones, before retrieving that solid black thread.

“Are you saying that I’m not cool?” (y/n) asks Gojo suddenly, and she’s only messing with him, but he backtracks instantly.

“I never said that!” He shouts, his voice echoing over the empty path they walked into town.  “You’re easily the coolest person I’ve ever met, (y/l/n) (y/n).  You put the special in Special Grade for sure!” 

That has her rolling her eyes again, even though she’s laughing at the stupid line.

“There are more interesting qualities about you than a cursed technique, that’s all,”

The sudden genuine comment has her laughter fading and a look of quiet surprise overtaking her features when she looks back at him.  He’s already staring at her, with that stupid grin and his prying eyes that seemed a little softer now.  He had these moments often, where in the midst of his teasing and nonsense, he’d say something so deeply real, and she knew it, that it would practically knock the wind out of her.  Like right now, where all she can do is stare at him and wait for him to say something else.

“Like, yeah, I have the Six Eyes and I’m mastering Infinity and sure, I suppose I am the strongest being on this earth, maybe ever,” He starts to ramble, and (y/n) can practically feel the idiot comment making it’s way out.  “But I’m more than that.  I’m also… really handsome,” 

She snorts, before a short burst of giggles follows and she shakes her head.  Just as expected, Gojo Satoru will always bury the real feelings under the perfectly tailored facade.

“What? It’s true!” He barks in offense when she laughs.  “I’m ridiculously handsome- it’s almost too much hotness for one man to carry alone!” 

“Uh-huh” 

“So you agree? I’m ridiculously handsome?” He grins like he actually caught her in something, and she laughs again.

“I didn’t say that,” But she didn’t exactly deny it either, did she? “But more importantly, you’re ridiculously rich, and you’re buying me mochi, too” 

And just like him, she’ll bury the budding sparks of feelings she doesn’t want to admit she has in order to preserve something more long lasting.  Friendship.  She’d never had friends like this before, people who understood her so deeply, people who took an interest in her even when their interests didn’t align.  Gojo Satoru especially took an interest, and she had a feeling he enjoyed making her push her limits, because she enjoyed letting him do it.

“Pfft, fine,” Satoru mutters in mock annoyance.  “Was jus’ gonna buy it anyways” 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After that, Gojo Satoru has a knack for getting (y/n) to sneak out of her dorm past curfew.  He wasn’t always dragging her off campus, oftentimes they’d just sit on the roof, or wander the courtyards, but there was the occasional midnight snack run that he’d insist on taking her on.  One time he insisted on showing her how he’d refined his technique, so she sat around for a good two hours while he just showed off.  This wasn’t necessarily out of character for him, so she sat and gave him her attention even though her time would’ve been much better spent sleeping.

Unfortunately, and unknown to him, the feelings that she was developing for him had started to accelerate.  It seemed that with every night he came to her window to pester her, her heart simply couldn’t feel irritation towards him.  Not that he couldn’t get under skin, it’s just that he managed to settle in there.  To the point where when she was away from him, she found herself counting down the time until she’d get to be near him again.

It was almost pathetic, when she really thought about it.  Missing the boisterous presence of Gojo Satoru was laughable.  At first she buried the idea, but she wasn’t one to live a life of denial, and no sooner than he could next drag her out in the middle of the night did she accept that she was actually falling for the Six Eyes user.  Their friends would poke fun at her if they knew- which they did, but this wasn’t due to her actually telling them.

But it was unable to be helped.  He always found a way to make her heart skip a beat before it picks up in pace.

“I think Nanami is a worthy sorcerer, I don’t have any problem with his company” She shrugs with her words, before leaning back on her elbows.  

The tiles of the roof weren’t the most comfortable to sit on, but they often found themselves lounging around there anyways.  Maybe it was because it was the perfect place to view the stars, or maybe conversation just seemed to come so much easier up there.

“It’s nothing to do with that,” Satoru mutters, a bitterness to his words that she didn’t often hear from him.  He was always overbearingly sweet or chipper with his speech.  Maybe it was the roof that brought on a sudden change in tone, or maybe it was because they were something he couldn’t hold back.  “You’re more than capable of taking that assignment alone.  You’re Special Grade.  You don’t need some first year- or anyone- to partner up with you,” 

Just as she’s about to open her mouth to come to Nanami Kento’s defense, she seals her lips tight.  It wasn’t about Nanami’s ability at all, she realized, as Gojo set his gaze firmly on the horizon.  It was about hers.

“The higher ups never want to admit when someone is stronger than them, probably ‘cause they’re scared we’ll overthrow them, or something,” He mumbles the last part, but (y/n) has a feeling there’s more feelings brewing beneath the surface of his bitterness.  “They want to morph into this strong… thing… but then as soon as you actually achieve their ridiculous expectations they’ll spend the rest of your life doing everything they can to remind you that you’re not…” He trails off for a moment, and even though he’s refusing to look at her, she can see emotion flickering in the corner of his eye.  He lets out a sigh before finishing his thought,  “... good enough”

(y/n’s) quiet as she lets it sink in.  She doesn’t want to speak too soon and lead him to assume she’d brushed off all he said, but before she could accurately voice her thoughts, he turns to her and releases an airy laugh.

His lips are curved into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and (y/n) can’t help but frown before he even says anything.

“I don’t think that came out right-” 

“No, it did,” She interrupts him gently.  She gives him a small nod of her head, understanding perfectly what he was saying.  It was a warning, but it was also a compliment to her abilities, and she wanted him to know that she appreciated it in it’s entirety.  Surprisingly, Satoru shuts his mouth.  “If taking on partnered assignments is what gets me through the rest of my time here, I’ll do it,” She explains, and she watches as his forced smile begins to crumple with disappointment.  “Besides, it’s good for Nanami to get the experience too, yeah?” She muses, but Satoru’s expression doesn’t flinch.  He doesn’t even blink.  “I have to fall somewhere in between being a good sorcerer and being a good upperclassman, too” 

“You’re already doing that,” He points out, almost rudely, but his adamance makes her heart stutter.  “You’re a Special Grade, and you already train and tutor the others, what more could possibly be asked of you?”

His upset is evident in his features, but the creases of his frown and pinched brows only deepen when (y/n) lets out a soft laugh.  It’s quiet, but genuine nonetheless.  She couldn’t help but find comfort and amusement in his determination.

“Sorry,” She murmurs when she realizes her laughter only fueled his irritation.  “I’m just amazed that Gojo Satoru is so worried about my reputation” 

“I’m not- (y/n), it’s about more than- ugh,” He huffs after he stumbles too much and loses sight of what he was really trying to say.  This time, (y/n) stifles her laughter behind sealed lips, but the slight movement in her shoulders still gives her away.  Satoru turns away again, his face growing warm as he finally mumbles in defeat, “I just don’t want them taking advantage of you, too” 

(y/n’s) smiling at him, although he can only sort of tell with his peripheral vision.  She leans forward and tilts her head, trying to get him to turn towards her again, but he refuses.  He can’t have her seeing the creeping blush on his face, after all.

“Thank you, Satoru” She tells him, and it’s the first time she’s called him by his forename alone- she tended to call him Gojo Satoru just to spite him- but hearing it now, spoken in such a small but genuine voice, it has him giving in and looking over at her so quickly it’s almost embarrassing to give her such a noticeable reaction.  His eyes are wide and his mouth is snapped shut, worried it’d go completely dry if he left it open.

Gojo Satoru is fairly certain he’s never experienced what falling in love felt like, but he’d never tried to seek it out, either.  He was content with his life, he felt as though he checked all the right boxes, with being born the strongest sorcerer, having the greatest friends in the world, he’d never really considered what having more would look like.

Right now, it looked like (y/e/c) eyes and a shy smile.

As suspected, his mouth goes dry when he opens it.

“You’re… welcome” He answers slowly, and it’s a bit awkward but (y/n) doesn’t point it out.  She simply leans back on her arms again and turns her attention back towards the stars.

In a few minutes she’d strike up conversation again and they’d spend the rest of their night chatting aimlessly about nothing special in particular, but neither one wanted to be the first to alert the other of the time.  So they’d sit there until the sunrise would peek over the horizon, and slowly, but eventually, they’d sneak back into the building with tired goodbyes and plans to meet up with their friends during lunch like they always did.

Everything was exactly as it always was.  But it was undeniably different.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Satoru scoffs when Shoko tells him about a party she’d been invited to by a non-sorcerer she and (y/n) ran into while in town.  A non-sorcerer party sounds like the perfect way to waste an evening.  Although he won’t admit he feels relief that neither one of them actually planned on going, and he knows that (y/n) already tucked herself in her room for the night.  

She’s probably studying, he thinks to himself fondly.  It was a friday night, sure, she should be doing something fun with her evening, but he’d much rather have her here than out doing who knows what at some lame party.

“He was cute too, can’t believe she turned him down,” 

That little comment had him snapping back into conversation- he might’ve tuned Shoko out a bit when she started going on about the cashier giving her a hard time over her less-than-authentic ID for her smokes- but now all of his senses were tuned back into what she was saying.

Shoko rolls her eyes when his head swivels at super human speed.  She’s not offended that he’d so clearly been ignoring her, not when it’s so amusing that she brought him back to earth the only way she knew how- by praying on his jealousy and pride.  Oldest trick in the book, she smirked to herself.  She and Suguru had mastered this trick ages ago.

“Wonder why she’d do such a thing” She mutters in mock curiosity, before pulling out her new pack of cigarettes and sticking one between her lips.  Satoru narrows his eyes at her, picking up on the lack of subtlety.  It wasn’t often that he did so.

“You’re blaming me for (y/n) not being interested in some random non-sorcerer?” He laughs humorlessly at the notion, and Shoko mirrors it with a laugh of absolute humor.

“She’s your most favorite Special Grade, isn’t she?” She muses, plucking the cigarette from her lips to exhale the smoke in her lungs before she presses him again.  “If it weren’t for you, she’d be out living her life for once” 

“You’re acting like I keep her from doing anything-” 

“I’m not,” Shoko shrugs, her expression turning bored.  “I was actually trying to insinuate that she’d rather hang around here getting in trouble with you than doing, I don’t know, normal things.  Like parties.  And… other things that happen at parties” She finishes with a smirk before she sticks the cigarette back in her mouth to puff some more.

Satoru flusters, not having a quick witted comment to come back at her with.  His silence is just as damning, however, and Shoko begins to laugh again, plumes of smoke puffing out as she does so.

“She’s probably never even been to a party,” She says, as if talking to herself, but Satoru’s well aware that she’s just luring him into her trap.  

Now, he’s not completely sure what that trap is, some sort of admission of guilt he assumes, but for what? 

“She’d probably love the scene.  Dancing, mingling.  Non-sorcerers would love her for sure.  She could do her whole ‘there is no god, only I control your fate’ thing, they’d eat that up” 

“She said that one time-” 

“Yeah, and it was badass,” Shoko cuts him off.  “I got chills and I wasn’t even there,” She pulls up the sleeve of her jacket then, chuckling when she finds the little hairs on her arms standing up.  “See? Chills” 

Satoru swats her arm out of his face when she shoves it in front of him.

“What are you getting at? Are you asking me to take her? I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of strangers whose collective idea of a good time is alcohol poisoning and shitty music” 

“Harsh, Satoru, who’s got your panties in a bunch?” 

He could teleport away right now, before Suguru even completely approaches the two of them, but isn’t it all the more damning if he turns and runs? He doesn’t make a decision before Suguru has joined them at their usual table in the courtyard.  Shoko’s passing him a cigarette without any words exchanged.

“Guess” She speaks in monotone as she hands him her lighter.

“I’m leaving” Satoru finally decides, stuffing his hands in his pockets, surely about to stomp away.  The other two snicker between one another.

“Awe c’mon, don’t be like that, Satoru” Suguru calls, but he doesn’t try to chase down his sulking friend.

“When ya get to (y/n’s) can you remind her she still has my spare jacket?” Shoko hollers, which is followed by the sound of her and Suguru bursting into a fit of laughter.

Satoru warps with a huff before they could continue obnoxiously yelling at his back.  He barely wipes the scowl off his face before he’s knocking on the door he reappears at.

“It’s open!” Is called from inside, but he’s still cautious when he slides it open.

(y/n’s) at her desk, one earbud in her ear and one hanging in front of her.  She’s surrounded by piles of books and papers, not to mention the highlighter in her hand and the pen tucked above her ear.  She’d clearly been busy with her studies, but when she looks up to see who her visitor was, she picks up her iPod Shuffle and hits pause before she plucks the other bud out of her ear.

“What a surprise,” She greets him with a warm smile.  “To see you actually using the door, that is,” 

That cracks a smile on his unusually sour face, and (y/n) leans back in her chair, already forgetting the work in front of her as she takes him in.  Her arms cross over her chest as her brow furrows just a little bit.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Something has to be wrong for me to stop by?” He asks, leaning back into the doorway.  “Can’t I just be a good friend and come say hi?” 

She raises a brow at him.

“Hi” She says with a smile too sweet to be real, or at least he thinks.

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his own smile is more genuine than he’d like to admit.

“Hi,” He replies.  (y/n) smiles a little wider.  “Is this really your plan for the night?” He asks, wagging his finger in a circular motion at the pile of work she had before her.

“It was,” She claims.  “But I have this odd feeling… like you’re about to drag me off…?” She can barely contain her delight, even as she presses her finger against her pursed lips in mock curiosity.

“Take you away from your studies? Who do you think I am, Special Grade? A bad influence?” 

“And apparently a mind reader, too” She quips.

“Well… do you want me to drag you out of here or not?” 

It’s only a dizzy spell from Satoru’s warping later that they find themselves in the middle of a neighborhood, in front of a house she doesn’t recognize.  Needless to say, it was not a usual spot for them.

“A house party?” (y/n) furrows her brows at him, before glancing down at herself.  She’d ditched her uniform jacket at least, but she was still in black slacks and her white tee shirt.  “You couldn’t have told me to wear something different?” 

Satoru frowns, before mirroring her actions.  In the same pants and a black tee shirt himself, he takes offense to her insinuation.

“You don’t think I make this look good?” He pouts.

“I think we look like we’re in costumes- what are we doing here, anyways?” She asks.

“Shoko told me about it,” He says, before taking a step towards the house.  “C’mon let’s go in” 

Begrudgingly, she follows him, even though she’s still completely unsure of the whole thing.

“This is really what you wanted to do?” She asks, and Satoru doesn’t miss the way she stiffens when he lets himself into the house without even a knock.  She supposes knocking or ringing the doorbell would have been pointless, seeing as the music playing inside was so loud the bass could be heard from the front yard, but it unsettles her nonetheless.

No, he thinks.

But what he says is; “Why not?” with that big dumb grin of his that tells her she should keep her guard up tonight.

It’s strange that she can trust him with her life while simultaneously not trusting him in the slightest at this moment.

The house party is picture perfect, captured like every movie scene depicting a house party ever.  Countless bodies inhabiting the open living room, the staircase, and the few hallways she could see just from stepping through the door.  It seems everyone’s either holding a plastic cup, a beer bottle, a cigarette, or some combination of the three.  When they take a few steps in and she doesn’t feel any weird stares, her stomach starts to settle, but the voice in the back of her mind still whines that she should’ve at least changed into a pair of jeans.

Satoru’s not taking any of it in- at all.  Despite his Six Eyes, he hardly notices the bustling of dancing bodies, or bodies trying to push through the crowd.  The music is at just the right volume to ring in his ears in a way that will ache tomorrow, but he doesn’t register the melody enough to identify the song, and he doesn’t try, either.  He’s far more charmed by the way (y/n) takes it all in with complete enamourment and intrigue than he could be by the scene itself.

The scene itself was unimpressive.  A loud, smoky atmosphere that had his skin crawling before even attempting to walk through the crowd of people made him want to wince.  He tried to keep his expression as neutral as he could, not wanting to take away from (y/n’s) experience, but when his eyes surveyed the place, they squinted with disgust.  It was even starting to smell.

“What first, hm?” He turned towards her in an attempt to block out the setting they found themselves in.  If only he could turn off his Six Eyes and tunnel vision completely on her.  “Body shots? Dancing?” 

(y/n) scoffs, but a humored smile curls on her lips as she meets his gaze.

“How about just a drink?”

“A shot?” 

“One beer” 

His grin twitches, before he gives her a nod and takes off into the crowd that had his Infinity flickering on instantaneously.  Satoru’s got his sights set straight on the kitchen, it seems a little less crowded in there, and the array of coolers and bottles on the counter was the most appealing thing about this place.  

(y/n) let her eyes wander every person they passed, taking in everything she could.  Every smile, every laugh, every outfit and anything else there was to take note of.  A few people noticed her curious staring, some waved, some seemed indifferent, some stared back, but nothing captured her attention quicker than Satoru tapping her on the shoulder once they’d reached the kitchen.  He’s already holding a bottle out to her, and she takes it with a quiet thank you.

He takes it back from her moments later when she tries to unscrew the bottle cap.  The grin she knows to be cautious of returns as he points a finger at it, thumb outstretched, and with a quiet zap the cap flies off.  Surprisingly, he doesn’t completely shatter the bottle with his abundance of cursed energy, but the bottle cap does go flying, and they hear a distant ‘ow!’.

“I could’ve found a bottle opener” (y/n) tells him, but he knows she was at least a little bit impressed by his finite control over his technique.

“But ya already got one,” He quips with pride.  She stifles her laugh by raising the bottle to her lips, taking a few long drinks.  Satoru’s eyebrows almost raise to his hairline, a shocked laugh belting out of him when she finishes.

“I figured you’ve never had a drop to drink before” He says when she gives him a confused look.

“I haven’t” She confirms.�� Satoru keeps his mouth shut after that.

They spend a few hours at the house party, to both of their surprise.  There’s some mingling, (y/n) seemed to enjoy meeting new people, and drunk people seemed to enjoy flocking to her.  Girls thought her attire was badass, guys liked talking to a girl that talked back- at least until Satoru’s face would screw up enough that they’d leave.  Other than a few offers of phone numbers, he couldn’t say he hated the whole party setting.

But his acceptance of the whole ordeal might have had less to do with the party being fun and more to do with the company he kept for the night.  As much as (y/n) moved about to enjoy every aspect of the simple party, she had a habit of sticking as close to his side as possible.  If she was walking away, her hand was latching onto his, or his elbow, to keep him moving with her.  If they were surrounded in a tightly packed space, she was glued to his side, tucked under her arm and pressed against him from torso to leg.  Satoru deducted that he’d never show up to one of these things alone, but if she asked him? Hell, he might agree without thinking twice.

“Hear me out- hear me out!” She doesn’t need to tell him twice, but she shouts when she repeats herself just to be sure that Satoru can hear her clearly.  “I think we should throw our- our own party, back at- back at home” 

It’s cute that she calls it home, he thinks.  Logically, he knows it’s because she’s never really had a solid place to land before Yaga scouted her and took her in, but it still has a way of making his heart flutter with the idea of her involving him in her idea of home.  

They’ve taken a break from chatting with strangers, to Satoru’s relief, and right now he had her attention all to himself.  They were currently wallflowering in a corner between the hallway and the living room, a water bottle being passed between them, although he tried to keep it more in her hands than his, considering she out drank him rather quickly.

“I dunno, Suguru and Shoko aren’t really party animals,” He replies, earning a bubbly giggle from her, which he takes to mean she agrees.  “I think you might just be enjoying yourself too much” 

“No such thing,” She argues with a definitive shake of her head.  “And don’t lie, you’re having fun, too!” 

She’s shouting a bit again, and Satoru laughs.  Shoko and Suguru wouldn’t believe him later when he tells them about how cute she was when she was tipsy and talkative.  Oh well, he’d have to enjoy it for himself first hand.  He already couldn’t get enough of it, of her eager attention.  He’s so wrapped up in it he’s been leaning closer and closer each time she speaks.  Until he’s practically hanging onto the corner of the wall, pressing closer to the side she’d been leaning against.

“I wouldn’t attribute that to this party” He scoffs, almost rudely as he glances at the remaining people.  

There’s a couple making out on the couch, a circle forming at the bottom of the stairs with a bong being slowly passed around, a few people are passed out on open furniture, at least one person sleeping on the floor- and he can only imagine what’s going on upstairs.

When he looks back at her, her eyes are already focused on his.  Round and full of pure delight, as if this had been the greatest night of her life.  Satoru pushes his sunglasses on top of his head, revealing the slight squint in his gaze.  (y/n) tilts her head curiously when she catches the furrow forming in his brows, too.

“What?” She asks him, still studying his puzzled expression.  It’s a bit difficult, with his pretty eyes on display, her mind was a little one track at the moment and it was hard to focus on anything other than the perfect cerulean oceans.

“How come you never went out ‘n did this stuff before moving here?” 

Her shoulders rise and fall unceremoniously.  

“I guess cause no one ever dragged me into doing them.  Teleporters were in short supply, too” She laughs at her own joke, and Satoru cracks a smile, reveling in her amusement.

“Well aren’t you in luck, then,” He hums, and he admits his insides are starting to feel doughy when he’s the object her soft gaze is so set on, and it’s probably about time to convince her to head home, but that would mean ruining her fun, and he can’t bring himself to do so just yet.  “Did you get to have all the synthetically produced fun you wanted?” He teases, and she shrugs again, but this time the motion is gentler, more careful.

“I had a good time with you,” The reply is genuine, making it all the more hard hitting to his heart.  Even his Infinity couldn’t protect him from that.  Her eyes finally tear away from his, only to glance over the dwindling crowd of drunken bodies.  “You sort of scared off all my kiss options though” 

“Kiss options?” He repeats with a laugh, taking her comment for a joke.  When she looks up at him again, he can tell in her deluded, drunken mind, she’d been absolutely serious.  “You’re joking.  You wanted to kiss one of these clowns?” He clicks his tongue in displeasure, but her expression doesn’t waver.

“It’s a bit late for it now.  But I figured it was as good a time as any to get it out of the way,” She says, in that light but serious tone again, and now Satoru feels his heart dropping.  “Oh well,” She sighs, leaning further into the wall, until her head rested against it.  “Another time…” 

“What, it’s on your bucket list to kiss some rando?” He teases half-heartedly.  

Had she been trying to make a move on someone all night? Now Satoru’s mind was racing with thoughts that made his stomach twist into knots.  Had he misread their entire evening? Had she been trying to ditch him? Was he the one clinging to her? Well, he’d clung a little bit, but it felt natural to wrap his arm around her waist and keep her close! His heart started hammering in his chest as the nasty feeling in his gut began to climb up his throat.

“No,” She says, laughing under her breath at the idea.  “Just wanted to get the first one over with” 

Gojo’s eyes widen almost comically, before he leans in and drops his voice to a whisper, as if to spare her any embarrassment.

“As in first kiss?” He mutters, eyes darting around just to be sure no one else could hear.  (y/n’s) laughter bubbles at his dramatic display, and takes no offense to it at all, simply nodding her head.

“Yeah, as in first kiss,” She repeats with the same secretive act, before laughing again.  “Don’t act all surprised now” 

“Baby, I’m not acting,” The pet name falls off his tongue sarcastically, but he can’t deny it feels a bit too natural.  “You’ve never kissed anyone?” 

“Nope” She pops her lips and shakes her head.

“And of all places you wanted to kiss someone here?” He asks, his lips curling into a grimace as he recalled the candidates from earlier.  The pickings weren’t exactly ripe.

“It was just a kiss,” She rolls her eyes at his reaction.  “I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, Satoru, I just wanted to know what it was like.  Figured it might come up organically in a party setting” 

Satoru sticks his tongue out and gags.

“Absolutely not.  Why didn’t you just say somethin’? I would’ve kissed ya” 

“That doesn’t count” She shakes her head, and he narrows his eyes back at her.

“And why not?” He asks, clearly offended.  “I’ll have you know I’m a great kisser!” 

“Oh yeah? Your hand told you so?” (y/n) snickers, and Satoru’s pout noticeably worsens.  “I don’t want a pity kiss, I want a real kiss.  Y’know, so I can be good at it before it… really matters” 

“It would be a real kiss, dummy, what difference does it make?” He’s not following her logic, and he can’t tell if it’s drunk (y/n) logic or if this had been on her mind all night.

She blinks at him, the humor in her features fading away the longer he stares back at her and she begins to realize he’s being serious.  Her brows twitch, and her mouth opens but no words come out.  What was she supposed to say? Yes, kiss me now!? It felt awkward to suddenly rush into it and accept his offer.  But she also didn’t want to let the moment pass and regret it later.

“It won’t be weird,” Satoru purses his lips and shakes his head with as much nonchalance as he can muster.  It’s as though he’s reading her mind, and the thought of taking him up on it makes her face feel warm.  “Besides, I would be a bad friend letting you have a bad first kiss with some non-sorcerer that doesn’t know what he’s doing” 

“You’d feel bad?” A small laugh escapes her as she teases him, tilting her chin up at him.  Satoru nods his head from side to side with uncertain confirmation.  “Okay then” 

“Okay?” He repeats.

“Yeah” 

“You’ll let me?” 

It’s an odd way of phrasing it, she’ll let him kiss her, as if he was the one seeking it out in the first place.  However Satoru was simply doing her a favor, wasn’t he? Helping her get the first one out of the way.  He’d much rather he do it himself than let any of the idiots she met tonight get the chance.  But that’s just because they weren’t worthy like he was, and that was a fair assessment, wasn’t it? 

He swallows the lump in his throat with only a little difficulty before she nods back at him and gives him a hum of approval.  She’ll actually let him.

When he doesn’t make a move, she tilts her head at him in confusion.

“Well?” 

“Well come on,” He beckons her, before taking her by the hand and pulling her away from the wall they’d been hugging for the better part of an hour.  “Can’t have it be in some stranger’s house, might as well get a better view than that, yeah?” 

He grins at her as he half guides and half drags her outside.  She’s a little lost on his logic, because it was just a kiss wasn’t it? Did the setting really matter? Although once they’re outside she has to admit the moon’s luminescence did provide a nicer atmosphere.  A smile graces her face as she admires the sky, until Satoru stops them.

“Here’s good,” He decides, grinning back at her.  “Got a speech planned? Anyone you want to thank?” 

“Well, I never thought I’d make it this far,” She giggles as she goes along with the bit.  “I suppose at the end of it all I only have myself to thank, really-” 

“Ahem” 

“Oh, and of course Gojo Satoru, for the wonderful opportunity,” She corrects, barely containing her laughter through her made-up speech.  Satoru brightens, grinning from ear to ear at her delight.  “I think that’s all I got” 

He chuckles, before taking a step forward and closing the already small distance between them.  Her breath hitches in her throat as reality sets in.  She didn’t really think about actually kissing Satoru until he was close enough that his cologne wafted past her nose, and her eyes naturally fell to the pink curve of his lips.

“I’m not kissin’ you with your eyes open,” He laughs breathlessly, and her eyes briefly flicker up to his before she lets them shut.  The heat in her face begins to spread down her neck as she holds her breath.  “You need me to count down?” He asks, and he’s only partially joking.

“Just kiss me, ‘toru-” 

He doesn’t need further assurance beyond her impatient little whine, so in one motion he slides hand around the back of her neck, pulling her forehead just as he dipped his head to meet her lips with his.

She’s frozen at first, unmoving under his soft mouth prodding against hers, but he expected as much.  After two seconds, she slowly and carefully kisses him back, still nervous she’d do something wrong.

Her hands are planted firmly at her sides, and her eyes are squeezed shut, but she still cherishes every second of the simple kiss.  How sweet his lips taste, how warm and welcoming they are, how much she’d like to stand there and kiss him for a few minutes more…

When she pulls away to catch her breath that she’d been holding in for far too long, Satoru’s hand lingers at the nape of her neck.  His fingers twitch, indecisive in what to do next.

Kissing her again wasn’t the right move… was it? 

“Thank you,” She tells him softly, her blush prominent on her face even in the dark.  “Should we get going now?” 

He could almost laugh at how quickly she moved on if it didn’t sting a little.  He hides it behind a smile as he nods his head in agreement, getting ready to warp them back home.

“You could’ve thanked my hand in your speech too” He teases as she wraps her arms round one of his, mentally preparing for the dizzying effect of teleportation.

“Shut up” She giggles back before they disappear from the scene.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Satoru’s never turned down (y/n’s) company.  He’s never wanted her to be away from him, and he’d never ask her to, either.  There was no one whose presence he delighted in more than hers- and he was starting to really come to terms with what that meant.

“You should go to bed,” He tells her, for the third time tonight.

There was no reason for him to stay up on guard with him.  He had surveillance covered while Suguru and Riko slept.  There was no sense in (y/n) staying up all night and wasting away her energy.  Not when she’d already done so last night, despite his protests then, too.

She’s sitting on the other end of the sofa, a small carton of ice cream in her hands that she was poking around in, trying to scoop out all of the brownie bits first.  She looks like she hadn’t even heard him, but Satoru’s not falling for it.

“Seriously, (y/n), you need rest” He sighs, hoping tonight he’d get through to her.

She hums thoughtfully, her eyes focused on her snack, and Satoru throws his head back against the couch cushion in defeat.

“We could put a movie on, good way to pass time,” She suggests, completely ignoring his request.  “I’ll even let you pick” She adds, shooting him a warm smile.

“You’re not gonna sleep, are you?” Satoru frowns when he turns his head to look at her.  Her smile remains as she shakes her head.

“Nope,” She murmurs sweetly.  “So you might as well pick something to watch” 

She’d pulled this last night, too.  Convincing him to hang out at the beach all night, swimming and stargazing.  He adored her company, he really did, but she hadn’t slept a wink yesterday, and he couldn’t put her through 48 straight hours without it.

He knows she’s exhausted, her eyes were dull, and starting to get puffy from lack of rest.  She did her best keeping up an energetic attitude, especially during the day when Suguru and Riko had still been awake, she’d fooled them almost too easily.  But Satoru knew better.  He knew her better.

“If I put a movie on will you at least lay down?”

Her eyes narrow at him, before she lowers her ice cream to her lap.

“Are you trying to trick me into falling asleep, Satoru?” 

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not going to go delirious because you’re not sleeping a normal human amount-” He tries to argue but she interrupts him.

“You haven’t slept either, hypocrite,” She mutters the last part.  “I’m resting enough just sitting around for the night, aren’t I?” 

“No-” 

“Pick the damn movie, Satoru” 

He huffs, but for some reason he finds himself putting a random disc in the dvd player before he falls onto the sofa again.  (y/n) remains at her end, slowly picking at her ice cream while the movie starts.  Satoru doesn’t have the energy to argue with her- literally, he’s starting to get tired keeping his Infinity up like this- so he sits in silence and watches the tv.  All he can do now is hope that she’ll get tired over time and maybe just pass out.  She couldn’t keep it up forever, could she? 

Two more movies later, Satoru worries he’d grossly underestimated her.  It had been almost six hours- it was nearing four in the morning- and she still reluctantly had her eyes glued to the tv.  He’d tried a few more times to convince her, but all he’d managed was to get her to share a blanket with him.

It hadn’t been enough.  She settled under the fluffy blanket, right up against his side, and still it wasn’t enough coziness to lure her into sleep.  He had to give her some credit for her stubbornness, that was for sure.

Around the 4:30 mark, he feels a weight pressing into his shoulder- well, against the Infinity, and he’s filled with so much hope he almost drops the barrier just to fully enjoy the feeling of her sleeping against him.

Then she alerts him that she’s still awake by speaking.

“Satoru,” It’s soft, so faint that he holds onto hope that she could still drift off.  “If I do fall asleep, you’ll wake me up, won’t you?”

He chuckles, before sliding his arm around her back, making sure to tuck the blanket up to her shoulder before he settles his arm there, keeping her tucked in against him.  He tells himself that this is all to make sure she’ll get some sleep- against her will or not- and that it had nothing to do with how his heart felt full when she snuggled a little deeper into his hold.

“You know I’m not gonna, Special Grade,” He murmurs back.  She grumbles something inaudible, but he assumes it has something to do with the heavier droop of her head.  

After a few minutes, he raises his hand from her shoulder, and slowly presses his fingers against her temple, easing her into a more comfortable position, until eventually he feels her slump completely as she gives in.

He lets their movie keep on rolling once she’s finally asleep against him, it at least held his attention enough to keep him awake.  The hammering of his heart in his chest might’ve also kept his adrenaline kicking for long enough that it wouldn’t have mattered, though.

The following day, (y/n) gives him a few icy glares, just to remind him that she didn’t appreciate his cruel trick.  Riko and Suguru share a few awkward glances as the two half fight and half joke about the whole thing.  They try to remove themselves from the pair’s bantering as much as they can, unable to stand the levels of chemistry they carried into every room.

“Seriously Satoru, it’s going to make me sick,” Suguru mutters to his friend at one point, while (y/n) and Riko are busy wandering the shore for seashells, or something.  “Make a move or don’t, but you’re driving the rest of us mad” 

Satoru laughs, his eyes squinting against the sun even with his shades on.  It was getting exhausting keeping them open, the amount of cursed energy it took to keep up Infinity and his Six Eyes had been giving him headaches all day, but he did his best to hide it.

“You’re just jealous that she likes me more” He says, even though Suguru doesn’t care in the slightest, and he even rolls his eyes to drive that point home.

“Well she’s not gonna like you forever if you keep up this dumb game,” He argues.  “What kind of friends kiss and then don’t do anything about it?”

“I told you that in confidence” Satoru whines.

“You told me in the middle of the night right after it happened,” Suguru reminds him in a plain tone of voice.  “Seriously, we all know she has feelings for you, so stop being a coward” 

“Not a coward,’ Satoru mumbles, kicking at the sand.  “We’re just… sorta in the middle of something here?” He tries to blame it on the assignment, but Suguru gives him a blank look.

“We’re at the beach,” He mutters.  “She’s been staying up with you, too, so do it then, after the rest of us have gone to sleep” He points a finger at him for the last part, making sure it was crystal clear.

“I don’t know.  Maybe” Satoru huffs, and starts to walk away before Suguru could drag the conversation on any longer.

He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening mulling it over.  He’d known how he felt about her for quite some time now, before he’d even kissed her.  The kiss was just the solidification that his feelings were real, and not some romanticized imagination his mind had drawn up.  But he’d never felt love before, and he had no clue how to go about professing it.

He’s antsy when he and (y/n) find themselves on the beach again that night, long past sunset, long past when everyone else had gone to bed.  They’re both seated on a towel to keep their clothes clear of sand, but with their feet digging into the soft grains it didn’t matter, the towel became a mess anyways.

“I don’t want you to stay up too late again,” He tells her, although it feels useless.  “It’s just not good for you,” He looks over at her, taking in the darker circles under her eyes, the paleness in her features even after spending the day in the sun.  “And it’s not worth it”

She gives him a bittersweet smile, her head tilting just slightly as she regards his worry.

“It is worth it,” She replies quietly.  “I don’t want you to be alone out here,” She tells him, watching the way his expression falters and softens.  “It’s just not good for you” She mimics him with a laugh for good measure, and he barely cracks a smile, but his worry is still evident.

“Well, when this assignment is over, can you promise to sleep for three days straight to make up for it?” He asks, and she thinks it over for a moment before nodding her head in agreement.

“I suppose,” She answers.  “As long as you do, too,” She adds quickly, “Fair is fair” 

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his smile is a little more genuine this time.

“Alright then, 72 hours of sleep it is,” He gives in.  “But I’m holding you to that promise” 

“I don’t break promises,” She tells him confidently, before a quietness settles between them again.  Her gaze lingers on the low tide rolling in as she lets her mind wander, and before she knows it, she’s speaking up again.  “I know you don’t think you need anyone looking out for you, Satoru,” 

He looks at her right away, tired eyes widening at the sudden seriousness in her tone.  She’s still watching the tide, completely captured by it, but he can tell she’s holding in more.

“But I… I worry about you,” She admits, dropping her head to stare at her lap.  “I don’t want you to take on more than you can handle, I… I don’t want them to take advantage of you anymore,” 

She swallows the lump in her throat before finally working up the courage to look over at him.

“I know that you’re the strongest, and it’s gonna happen but… but I can’t help this feeling like… I’m here too, you know? I can take things on too, assignments, or… this,” She gives him a weak smile, hoping he understands that her sentiment comes from a good place.  “I care about you, you know?” She finishes in a whisper.

Satoru’s eyes shift in between hers as he takes it in.  How ironic, that every reason she has for putting herself through hours without rest, were the exact reasons that he wanted her to get rest.  The corner of his lips tugs into a small smile as he takes her in now, completely.

Her exhaustion is evident, but with the way she’s looking at him now, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so beautiful.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

In an act of complete selfish desire, he leans over the space between them and plants his lips on hers.  Her eyes widen at first, alarmed by the sudden kiss, and the fact that he’s dropped his Infinity in order to touch her at all, but as soon as the shock starts to wear off her eyes fall shut and she’s kissing him back with all the fervor that she wished she had the first time.

It’s another pleasant surprise when she reaches out and finds her fingertips bumping into his cheekbones, before her entire hands up his warm face and she’s pulling him closer to her, kissing him again- and then again some more.

Satoru’s balance is thrown off from the way he leans against her, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed when he wraps his arms around the dip in her back and pulls her closer to him.  She obliges with a soft sigh panted against his lips before they’re colliding again.

For all the passion he pours into it- for every ounce of need and impatience he feels, he kisses her slowly, each one lingering a little longer than the last, just to be sure he commits every detail of it to his memory, where it could be preserved in his perfection forever.

He doesn’t let go of her when they finally pull apart, and she doesn’t pull her hands away from his face, either.  They keep each other close, as close as they can while still catching their breath.

Her eyes are wide when they meet his, confused and ecstatic all in one sweet expression that Satoru wants to add to his collection of memories.  He smiles at her as his eyes wander her face leisurely.

“What was that for?” She murmurs, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the delicate curve of his cheekbone with nothing but fondness in her touch.  

He chuckles, warm breath fanning over her lips.  

Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because,” 

His voice is a mere murmur, and for a moment she thinks that might be his entire answer.  She wouldn’t put it past him, but there’s a look in his eyes that resembles longing, and she knows there must be more.

“I love you too”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes // i'm your national anthem ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie a/n: i actually had a super rad cursed technique planned for reader but ended up not writing any scenes where she's using it so u WILL see it come up in another fic sometime

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #satoru gojo imagine #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[mari-the-bimbo]

First things first. I love your writings. Especially the ex-husband ones❤

Two I hope you don't mind me requesting a ex-husband geto?

-🌼

Ex husband Geto

A/N: Ohhh you ATE with this idea I’m getting butterflies just thinking about it 😫 Happy late valentines my loves!! 🫶🏽💗

Ex husband Geto is a terrifying blend of ex husband Gojo and Nanami’s worst traits. He is extremely unhinged like his white haired best friend but good at playing nice guy like Nanami.

He’s ‘respectful’. Always paying a sum of money to spend on yourself as well as child support, always bringing chocolates when visiting, always insisting to stay over and help out with your daughter when you’re on your period (he knows your cycle because he refuses to log out of your Flo partners account from back when you were married hehe), and he does it all with a small smile on his face.

He loves his precious baby daughter so much! She inherited his dark hair but your enchanting eyes and smile. His eyes soften at the way she giggles just like you when he presses kisses to her rosy cheeks. His little girl loves playing with her dad’s long black hair. He was born to be a girl dad.

However Geto still struggles with boundaries. You try to shake it off when his fingers touch your waist or when he ‘accidentally’ still calls you sweetheart. “sorry bad habits” he dry chuckles. He’s admitted he’s struggling to get over his feelings for you so you try to be nice about it.

But what you can’t shake off is the way he always happens to know where you are, or he always happens to turn up just before a date, or the way he always whispers a question to your daughter when you leave the room.

Geto’s fixation with you definitely makes his own mental wellbeing spiral, but this man is self aware, this man knows the effect you have on him since the day you left.

So if you ever had the audacity to break his heart and see another man behind his back, it’s over for you.

You’ll be confused when you hear the doorbell ring at 11 in the night. Once you spot the familiar black Bugatti, you open the door, “Geto? The kids are at my moms so-“

“And why’s that y/n?” he cuts you off, his chilling voice suddenly calling you by your actual name rather than sweetheart, as he barges into the house and towers over you, black stands of his hair falling forward.

“You just throw your daughter away to go on dates?” He accuses you and the change from his usual gentleman demeanour unsettles you as his dark eyes burn into you.

“W- what are you talking about? I’m allowed to go on dates and take my daughter to her nans Geto! And how did you know I-“

“You knew-“ he seethes as he inches closer to your face. “You knew I’m struggling to get over you but I’ve been so nice to you and this is how you thank me?”

Some part of your subconscious knows you don’t owe him anything but the rest of you wants to give in. You gulp down your nerves but it was futile in front of a man who could easily have his way with you.

You take a deep breath before beginning, “listen Geto, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I want.” Is it?

“Don’t let it happen again” he says in a voice that is so soft, contradicting his threatening words. But you know best not to take it lightly.

See that’s the thing with ex husband Geto, he lures you in with his sweetness so well, you become too scared to get on his bad side, you always want the good side.

You watch him place a bouquet of Japanese pink camelia flowers on the table, making your eyes widen. “Geto-“

“I came here to give you some flowers for valentines” he explains quietly, “all I wanted was to show you my feelings are sincere whether we’re married or not” he guilt trips you and you know you’re falling for it when he towers over you and holds your face in his large hands. You always do when it came to your beloved ex husband.

So you’re complicit when you picks you up and places you on the sofa, his large hands move to your thighs, groping and kissing them, chuckling when you gasp at his fingers fiddling with the lining of your underwear.

“I know you just needed some love sweetheart, but you don’t have to go to other men, that’s what I’m here for” he convinced you as he ties up his long black hair but his eyes are still interlocked with yours.

And that’s how you always end up getting fucked by your psycho ex husband. Legs dangling in the air as you scream while he gets all the right spots with that skilful tongue of this.

Pink camellia flowers (aka/ tsubaki) are known to express a deep romantic longing and persistent desire.

#geto x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk geto x reader #jjk geto suguru #jjk geto #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #jjk geto smut #jjk getou #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto smut #geto suguru #geto fluff #Geto

[pupcuck]

BLIND ITEM !

ft. og re4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. actor au, smut, leon is an ass, some misogyny duh, reader vomits once like non-sexual context, breaking and entering, dub-con that turns to just consensual sex, only one threat of violence :3

note. comm for the sweetest ever @liableperfections / 🪩 anon :3 plot credit goes entirely to her literally had to cut so many words down it was 10k before bc i was so excited ab it so if it seems choppy I’m so sorry… 😭 ignore my attempt at navigating la.. it’s so confusing usa system is so confusing .. ignore any typos :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated!!! REPOST CUZ TUMBLR HATES ME.

Malibu Beach is a terrestrial paradise. A post-apocalyptic Eden of sorts ‘cause there’s no tree of knowledge or any apples— Only thing Malibu Beach and Eden have in common is the naked ladies. It’s the best part of both. Which to Leon is factually correct, but to be politically correct as Hunnigan, his PR manager, would say it’s an opinion.

No need for serpent-induced bedlam, hedonism is at its peak, the fall of man is in full swing. There’s more snow than grains of sand. Leon’s world comes to life in bottle greens and muted blues, water glittering like a diamond behind the dimmed lenses of his aviators.

He snags a cabana close to the shore, draping curtains to keep him safe from blinding cameras and prying eyes and drab women who are more naked than they are clothed. From afar it’s a great sight. Up close it’s a whole lot of cellulite and over-plumped lips and over-plucked brows. Leon’s not picky, his standards are not high, he’s only asking for the bare minimum. Nice face, nice ass, nice tits— It’s expected, but it’s not an expectation ‘cause that would mean girls have to try and live up to it, but most of them come that way. Well, they’re supposed to come that way, but some girls got a little busted on the flight over from heaven.

Ashley faces him, she should be careful when Leon’s around, he pulls on bikini strings more than he tugs on his own dick, and her bikini has started to look especially stringy.

“Can you get my back?” In the light, her lashes twinkle like gossamer wet with morning dew.

Don’t need to ask him twice. Leon’s hands traverse the plains of her back, he coats her skin in lotion like the finest of pâtissiers would a cake, angling the spatula downwards to smooth thick buttercream into pastel swirls of perfection. It’s only SPF10 ‘cause Ashley’s more focused on getting an even tan and less worried about skin cancer.

They’ve been hanging out between filming. Ashley pisses him off with her hoity-toity shit, someone swapped out her brains for that rack, but she’s hot so Leon keeps her around. And to be completely honest, his perpetual state of ennui had been smashed like brittle glass by Ashley alone. If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be riding the Raccoon City wave. Biggest blockbuster to come out of 1998. That’s a big feat. Competition was big names like Deep Impact, The Horse Whisperer— Oh, who is he kidding, nobody remembers that crap, but everybody remembers Raccoon City, the Resident Evil sequel that hit the ball out of the park.

The Resident Evil series is on its fourth instalment, and Ashley Graham insisted he come back to reprise his role; she wanted to act alongside Leon S. Kennedy and no one else. She stinks of money and Chanel Cristalle. Her dad is the studio head, so Leon’s kissing up to her, takes her cruising in his Bugatti Veyron up and down Rodeo Drive. They never breach the Platinum Triangle, he fears Ashley’s diaphanous skin would erode the moment unfiltered air hits her, melt off her bones in fleshly strings until there’s a skeleton rattling around in his passenger seat.

Ashley’s back is real nice. Like, the skin is super clear and creamy white and her shoulder blades stick out the same way a slinky feline’s do. If he could use anorexic as an adjective he would. Not quite, but almost.

“That feels so good, Leon.” He catches the tail end of the glance she casts over her shoulder, it’s flirty and he knows what’s coming next. Ashley’s spine straightens, skin pulled taut to the jagged bone, she twists her upper half and pouts directly at him. She pouts a lot for someone so scared of wrinkles. but when you’re this rich, the de-ageing secret is just Botox he guesses.

“C’mere,” Leon adopts a wider stance, spreading his thighs so she can curl up between them like a cosy pup in bed. “Hey, cutie.” He traces a thumb over her lips which are a milky shade of pink, fingers curling up beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him.

She’s giving him bedroom eyes. Feathery lashes fanning his skin with the pace at which she bats them, like hummingbird wings beating against the wind. Leon is so going to get laid. Ashley’s nails rake over the sinewed flesh of his sculpted thighs, a testament to his athleticism, he does all his own stunts you know? Shit, he’s about to get the sloppiest head of all time, his dick is about to be degloved by that perfectly puckered pout, suction must go crazy—

In a single sweeping motion, the flimsy curtain is drawn back, fluttering in the same way Leon’s gut lurches. He can’t tell the difference between butterflies and nausea. It all feels the same to him. He half expects to be struck dumb by celestial flashes of camera light that gets him hotter than the sun.

However, in a much more pleasant turn of events, he spots a black whale tail that leads his sharp eyes to a bead of sweat dripping down a toned abdomen— Her belly button sticks out which Leon hates, but those tiny hotpants make up for her faults. They’re so short the flappy pockets are visible, distressed denim fringe brushing nice thighs that have got to mean an even nicer ass is right behind.

The face is even cuter. Round cheeks yet to shed baby fat, the apples smattered with charming freckles, her reddish ponytail is stiff with salt water. “Move,” she demands in a dictatorial fashion as if the world would bend to her will, rolling over and baring its belly like an appeased dog under her command.

Leon, against his better judgement, stays put. Who even are you, lady? The audacity of some girls, must be a fan of some kind. A clammy hand lands on his leg. Feels more like a dead fish left to rot on the docks. He shivers inwardly, prying sticky fingers off of him to clarify what the actual fuck is going on.

There’s a pretty girl in your peripheral. Not Claire. She’s not pretty in the way Claire is. She’s model pretty, might be a model or an actress or both, or neither. Just plain old pretty. But, it’s not plain, it’s extraordinary really. Polly Pocket dolly plucked from her compact home— Oh, gosh, your stomach is fucking killing right now.

Life is crazy, right? One minute you’re sucking face with a cute guy from Europe, and the next minute rotgut Mai Tais are not pairing well with the sweltering Malibu heat. And now you have reached the gates of heaven, fat-bellied clouds and Polly Pocket and something firm in your hand like a muscled calf. Not like a muscled calf, it is a muscled calf and it belongs to the most devastatingly handsome man you have ever laid eyes upon.

You anticipate the sprouting of wings from his back, the halo of Malibu sunlight that crowns his dirty blond hair to form an actual fucking halo. Holy fuck. You hope God can’t read your thoughts right now. Praying is out of the question, that’s like directly asking God not to press the big red button— Everyone presses the big red button, and then God would cast you down to hell in a fit of disgust. All ‘cause you want this angel to put your thighs to your chest and fuck you boneless with his seraphic dick.

“What the fuck, man?” Is the angelic knowledge he imparts upon your dying body. You feel like you’re being cooked alive, hot oil bubbling your skin.

“What is your problem, man?” Claire’s utterance comes at the same time.

“Hey, Claire,” you greet weakly.

“Hey, babe.” The back of her cool hand rests on your forehead, the heat is going to sear her skin like a piece of Grade-A beef. “Listen, man, can you just take your girlfriend and go?”

“She’s not my—“

“Leon, let’s just go.” The blonde girl loops her arm around this divine being’s bulging bicep.

Claire closes the curtain to shield you from the sun. It brings forth a wave of relief to your sizzling body, doused in floral breeze and sea-salt-infused linen.

“Aw, babe, you’re fucked.” She fans you lightly with her hand in hopes that man-made wind is enough to combat heat stroke or alcohol poisoning or whatever it is.

“You can head back, ‘m good here,” you slur, “gonna take a nap”

“You sure?” Claire pets your head, you see past her composed exterior, inside is a girl who’s mourning the loss of that cute beach bunny who ran for the hills the moment you started to emanate the smell of sickness.

“Mhm.” You nod, a sluggish movement that makes your liquified brain slosh about in your head. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll come check on you later, yeah? Just stay right here for me.” She lays a damp towel over your lower half and you feel like a bit of a beached whale. Like, fucking slack and stupid and heavy with sleep. It’s so unfair. Your one day off and the excessive day drinking comes to bite you in the ass.

Your nap is plagued by divine visions - getting to sink your teeth into that angel’s biceps. So life is not all bad. At least you’ve still got wet dreams to keep you going. The sun has sunken beyond the horizon, dwindling light paints the landscape a burnt orange, the deepening blues of the water taking on a coral hue as you poke your head out past the cotton curtains.

In the distance, you spot a mildly Claire-shaped dot with a ponytail. She’s still having fun so you make no move to bother her, instead you gather your belongings in a methodical manner. Beach towel folded at the bottom of your bag, cover-up slotted neatly into the side pocket. Water bottle and sunscreen on top - making sure to check the caps on both are tightly screwed on. Purse, keys, phone. You’ve got it all.

Though you’ve regained a sense of self - whatever you were going through a few hours ago that was an out-of-body experience - a tight knot lingers in the depths of your gut. It’s lodged in your throat. You proceed to the bathrooms located near the car park, beach bathrooms are not the nicest place on earth, but you’re not going there for a relaxing retreat, you’re there to unload the unholy amount of vomit that sits in your stomach like sunken rocks in a burlap sack.

Your gait is slightly off, it’s hard to navigate the beach in rubbery flip-flops, limping as your feet are anchored into the sinking sand with each step. After a treacherous journey over the colossal (read: totally flat, flatter than a brown rat’s feet) dunes, you’re granted access to the mildewy washrooms— The door swings open and collides with your delicate skull. A surge of nausea hits your system like adrenaline, pumping through you, and you pitch forward, hands on your knees as you hurl.

“What the fuck? Are you stupid?”

His voice is like the gentle tinkering of bells or a choir of angels, it’s thick and smooth like molasses, a knife through hot butter. All of the above. Even when he’s swearing the unholiest words you have ever heard under his breath. It’s him, the guy from before. And you just missed vomiting on his feet. Narrowly. He did hit you with a fucking door though. So there’s that.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? I saw that!” The cute blonde from before has swiftly joined his side.

“I’m fine, Ashley, she ran into me.” Ashley… Ashley…You might’ve seen her on a billboard somewhere in Hollywood. Certainly looks the type.

“Not you, asshole, oh my god, Leon. Are you serious? You hit her!” Her voice is like money. Papery thin, but there’s substance to it. Makes the world go round. Makes you happy. This concussion might be making you woozy enough to feel happy. “Oh my god, are you, like, okay?”

You clutch at the wall of the beach hut-shaped washroom, steadying yourself. “I’m good, yeah, I’m really good, thanks for asking.” The vomit is gone from your system, that’s a step forward, but now there’s an ugly bump forming on your head.

“What if you have a concession?” Ashley frets, she makes no move to step closer as she would have to manoeuvre the puddle of vomit.

“A concussion.” Leon corrects, he side-steps to make a swift and graceful exit from this situation, making a beeline for the topless convertible parked a few rows over. Oh, shit this guy is like a big shot, and you almost puked on him. Keyword almost.

“Leon! Hello? We can’t just leave her!” She waves her arms at him wildly, like she’s flagging down a rescue helicopter.

“Oh no, my friend’s still here, I came in her car,” you begin, smiling sheepishly as she has made you feel a little like an abandoned puppy. Or a nuisance.

“No, no, you’re sick, like, really sick, and Leon hit you. He totally owes you.” Ashley insists, a delicate hand grasps your wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. “Get in the front.” She’s demanding not in the same way Claire is, but in the way of a spoiled little girl. It works for her, and you plop down on a leathery seat that sticks to your skin. “Leon, I’m gonna meet daddy over in Carbon, so don’t worry about me, okay?” She flutters her fingers at him. “Behave yourself!”

Shit. This car costs more than you would on the black market. That makes you nervous. The guy makes you even more nervous. The way he’s glowering at you— What an asshole. Ashley’s right, he hit you hard, you so deserve a swanky ride home.

“Are you stalking me?” He asks, sunglasses perched on the top of his head, he looks like a total asshole, levelling you up with those glacial eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you stalking me?” He’s like dead serious right now.

“Why would I be stalking you?” There’s genuine confusion on your face, at least that’s what you want Leon to believe.

“Funny,” he scoffs, “real funny.”

“I’m sorry, what’s so funny?” You blink at him stony, gaze unwavering.

You, bitch. Acting like you don’t know him, like his face isn’t plastered all over California. In every nook and cranny. From flagship stores to beige vegan cafes that are frequented by a handful of hipsters and bored trophy wives alone. “Nothing,” Leon settles on, you can play dumb all you want, but this isn’t his first rodeo with stalkers.

In your hand, your Nokia beeps, and much to his annoyance, you pick it up to make casual conversation with whatever creep that’s put you up to this plan. “No, I didn’t mean to scare you, Claire. I literally kinda, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, but I’m safe, okay? I’m in a…” You trail off, casting a sideways glance at him, “I’m in a taxi right now.”

He squeezes the steering wheel white-knuckled. You’re playing with him right now, and it’s not fucking funny. A little pathetic if anything.

“Yeah, I got enough cash on me to make it back, don’t worry about it. I will, I will, yep, okay. Bye, Claire.” You drop your cell phone into your beach bag and it falls quiet apart from the prowling growl of his engine.

“Where you need to go?” Leon asks, his teeth grinding together, offset by his clenched jaw.

“Santa Monica.”

“That’s helpful,” he says dryly. “Long way over.”

“I’m just being safe.” You shrug. “It’s half an hour, where’d you come from anyway? Beverly Hills?”

“You’re being unhelpful,” he repeats to cement the fact that he is going out of his way to be an upstanding citizen and help stupid girls who walk face-first into doors no matter how stupid they fucking are. Leon’s soft spot for girls is clearly limited. “Bel Air,” he adds a moment later, “but you know that, don’t you?” It’s in every tabloid, don’t gotta be a stalker to know where he lives.

“No, I do not, I seriously don’t know who you are, man.” Your profile is nice enough, not an eyesore, lips look kissable, you would look nice at his feet he decides. Girls like you need dick in your mouth to learn a few things about shutting up.

“You got in my car.” Leon points out.

“I was forced into your car.” Comes your rebuttal.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your shit, just tell me.” Leon never raises his voice at women, that would be a brash decision, girls hear a slight shift in tone and go cuckoo. When you talk to them all nice and sweet they turn to putty with no regard for the subject matter at hand. Could be harvesting a few organs or taking a couple billion out of their trust fund, it doesn’t matter, they’ll be stuck swooning.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Look at you, you think you’re the shit. “I can get home from the boardwalk.”

Leon is a lot of things. He is an asshole, he would feel like more of an asshole if he made a chick walk home in the dark. He swallows his pride and he swears his Adam’s apple bulges out further than usual. “I’ll take you home, no sweat, I owe you one.”

“I’m good, I want to walk.” You are one stubborn bitch.

“You could use the walk,” Leon says, a slip of the tongue. He didn’t mean anything by that. Listen, it just came out. Promise. You’re testing his fucking patience.

You bristle beside him, to his surprise you make no move to insult him in turn. “Who are you, even?” It’s thrown over your shoulder coolly. “Like, am I supposed to know you?”

“Leon,” Leon says, and to his knowledge there are no other Leon’s in Hollywood - Leonardo DiCaprio does not count.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” You’ve gotta be messing with him. It’s working, you’re driving him insane.

“Okay, sure.” He bites his tongue, and soon enough you tell him your address. Not the nicest part of Santa Monica, not the worst part. Definitely not Downtown L.A. so that’s good.

The velvet sky is frosted by stars, and it is a beautiful night for road head which Leon really fucking deserves for putting up with so much shit. If it were Ashley by his side he would’ve been forced to pullover more than a few times on the drive over to The Flats.

He pulls up in front of a house that looks to be made of paper mache. Wow, you’re slumming it. Leon makes an unmitigated promise to himself to never be seen around these parts ever again. The air is different, and there’s so many bad smells and oh my lord is that a homeless woman? He better leave before she knocks on his car door to offer him a good time.

“Bye, sweetheart,” Leon tells you because he is the prime example of a gentleman. “Not gonna thank me?”

“What an asshole.” You don’t even bother to say it under your breath, just to his fucking face after he dropped you off in this ugly, grey neighbourhood in his gorgeous convertible.

He forgets about you by morning. Leon has seen more women than a gynaecologist will in their lifetime. You’re another forgettable rack. That is until the following week. A blind item drops. He skims the page.

Blond guy… Plays a lot of action-hero roles… Good with women… Total Asshole… Something about harassment… Something about a full article dropping next week…

Sounds like Leon alright. Hunnigan is on his ass about it. Ashley is on his ass about it. The director is on his ass about it. The staff are looking at him funny. The room is spinning. Leon is going to take a prop gun and shoot himself. He’s managed to keep his asshole status under wraps, money and dick go a long way for girls— Shit, that bitch from Santa Monica. You were not an easy lay, there was no laying in fact. He didn’t offer you sympathy dick to make up for whatever he said to get your panties in a twist.

Leon checks his watch— Filming can wait, Ashley can wait, he won’t be long. Traffic is a nightmare, this sheepskin jacket is sticking to him - only time he has ever lamented having a roofless car. He shrugs off his costume, lays it over the headrest of the passenger seat. Your place is the crumbling stack of bricks tucked into the far corner of a street that is more litter than street.

He knocks on your door firmly, afraid it’ll knock down the paper walls. You don’t answer. He knocks again, taps his foot, and you do not answer. Leon tries the handle, he’s fucking desperate, okay? This film— The premiere has to go smoothly, he has to be back in the limelight and then you can go around making as many accusations as you please, send the pitchfork-wielding mob his way the moment promotions are over.

The door opens. Leaving your door unlocked in a neighbourhood this rough, oh, honey, you’re just begging for it, aren’t you? He steps over the threshold, the door clicks shut behind him, he moves forward in deliberate strides like he knows his way around. To be fair, there’s not many rooms to explore, not Ashley’s sprawling marble landing. From the top of the stairs, he hears your voice.

“Claire, is that you? I just got out the shower, wait there!”

Babe, you got ready for him? That’s cute, he hopes you shaved. The floorboards creak under his boots, climbing the stairs to face the open door of the bathroom. You’re in there, facing the mirror, wrapped in a baby blue towel. Easy access. When you spot him in the reflection, you drop the tub of cleansing cream in the sink basin, it splatters at the same moment your scream shatters the silence.

“What— How did you get in? Why’re you in my house? Get out!” All questions that Leon would answer if you shut up. You’re a stupid little thing, backing yourself into the wall until the back of your knees bump the bathtub. “Oh my god—“

“I let myself in, door was open, babe,” Leon says smoothly, “That’s real dangerous, y’know?”

You clutch at the shower curtain and almost bring it down on your head, Leon pries your fingers from the material as his hands find purchase on the fat of your hips. “Get off me— Get off, get off, get off!” Your spine straightens when he taps your cheek sharply. Huh. That worked. Is that what you need to loosen up? A nice, hard fuck. Some dick in that lonely pussy of yours.

“Hey, calm down, it’s just me.” The guy you think you know all about. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You’re breaking into my fucking house, you fucking psycho, why would I want to talk to you?” Little fists hammer away at his chest, nails catching on his chest holster that looks more like BDSM gear than anything useful.

“You kidding me?” Leon captures your chin, his touch is anything but tender, a tactile intrusion that leaves crescent-shaped impressions on your jaw. “Had a lot to say in that article.”

“Is that… Is that what this is about?” You catch your breath, trying to appear nonplussed, though you tread carefully in trepidation. “The article isn’t even out yet-“ A soft whimper betrays your confident front when Leon bows his head to meet your eyes.

“Look at me when you’re speaking,” he instructs, and you do. What a good girl. “Okay, there you go, baby, continue.”

The disdain that spoils your pretty face intensifies at his words, and yet you can’t look away. Cute. Head says one thing, pussy says another. “I’m not- I’m not making Claire drop the article, this is the biggest scoop she’s ever had, and you’re gross.” You stand your ground. “You’re an asshole, I hope nobody ever has to deal with your shit again, I hope you get blacklisted, like, forever and fucking ever. I watched your shitty movies, I could do better than that and I got a D in drama class, you’re just hot and you get away with it-“

“That’s not very nice.” Leon talks to you like he is scolding a misbehaving child. Which you are. A rash little girl driven forward by noisy temerity. “We talked once, sweetheart. I wanted to go on a second date, what a shame.” He’s glad you find him hot though.

“Fuck off.”

“C’mon, you’re too cute to be using nasty words like that.” His teasing is not taken in stride, you elbow him in the gut and squirm out of his grip. Leon recovers fairly well, his fingers catching the hem of your towel, unravelling it like a spool of thread. He draws you closer, naked, wet body flush to his clothed one. Nice tits, tick, cute ass, tick, he wants to see how you’d look in a tight skirt, one that hugs your stomach and hips and the tapering of your waist. The type Hunnigan wears when she means business.

And shit. Your pussy is the only thing cuter than your face. Shaved bare like you knew he was coming. You wanted it. You did. Leon doesn’t see any other hot dates waiting for you. “Aw, baby, you shouldn’t have.” He coos, tracing your puffy pussy lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t do that…” Your voice is merely a whisper, and you’re not scared, girls like you don’t get scared. They get pissed off. Heated. Angry and upset. But never scared.

“Is this what you want, babe? Some dick ‘n you’ll shut up? Just wanted my attention.” Leon’s voice is a low rumble in your ears, he drawls like a slow trickle of sticky honey. Nothing is stickier than your cunt. He parts your lips, catching the dribbles of slick that form in beads along your slit. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ wet, baby. You needed this, didn’t you?”

“No,” you croak out, throat dry from only a few minutes of disuse.

“No? You want me to stop then, sweetheart?” Leon slows his touch, it diminishes until it’s gone entirely and you whine at the loss so sweetly. “You’re not making any sense, babe.”

“Oh my god.” You suck in a breath, trembling not out of fear, but out of unadulterated rage and dizzying lust for a piece of his dick. “Fuck you.” He takes that as a Please, fuck me!

“How about we do something easier, baby.” Leon forces you onto your knees, and he was fucking right. You look so good like this. Knelt by his feet. His belt is unclipped, pants unzipped, boxers lowered. He guides his dick into your mouth, and you really are the most cock-starved thing he's ever met, ‘cause you open up and swallow him whole.

Then you do the sluttiest fucking thing a girl has ever done for him - reach back and jab your nails into the meat of his ass to force his dick deeper down your throat. “Shit, that’s right, baby— Fuck, you’re a fucking freak, huh?” Leon rewards you with a skull fuck. Balls clapping wetly and obscenely against your chin.

You gag on it, and you love it. God, he feels the pulse of your cunt through his boot when you grind yourself down on the steel toe cap. It’s round enough to do no damage, cool enough to help that hot cunt out, and the perfect shape to part your folds and stimulate your swollen clit.

Leon slaps it on your cheek a couple of times, then he tightens his hand around the shaft as you play with his balls, try to fit ‘em in your mouth like jawbreakers. Shit, fuck, his brain fucking blanks. He’s gonna cum if you don’t stop. His hand comes to rest on your forehead, hoping to snuff out the pleasure that builds too soon in his belly, you pop off his cock, refusing to stop making out with his tip, tonguing the slit like you’re getting paid to do this.

The bedroom is a couple metres away, it’s an awkward shuffle over with his lips slotted to yours, tongue running over your teeth, licking at your gums. Your back hits the handle, then less than a metre after that it hits the squeaky mattress. He kisses down your body, you smell like fruity body wash, it might be strawberry or raspberry. It smells like pink, that’s all he knows.

A sloppy kiss is placed on the very front of your mound. “You want me to play with your sticky little pussy, baby?”

“Ew,” you whimper out, nodding anyways, legs bent at the knee to bare your sweet pussy to him.

He laps at you like a dog. Eating pussy is tedious, Leon likes pushing heads down on his dick, it’s way better. But to hear you moan like that, shit he would do it a thousand times over, latch onto your clit and suck till you see stars. “Did you like that, baby? Fuck, creamed on my fucking tongue, sweet little thing.” He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Sure, Leon's going to go back to set smelling of your cunt, it’s not so bad. He quite likes it. Better the tang of pussy than sweat.

“Jus’ put it in,” you beg, “please, please—“

“I heard you the first time, sweetheart. Be patient.” Leon takes your ankles in his hands, puts them by your ears. See this? That’s when Leon can tell a girl really fucking wants him. When she holds her thighs up for him, and then she puts her palms flat to spread herself as open as she can get. “Jesus, baby, you’re a slut.” He laughs derisively, it rolls off his tongue as sweetly as any other pet name.

You’re left keening when the head of his dick sinks into your weeping cunt, your toes curl, and Leon cranes his neck to kiss your ankle. He runs his hands over the backs of your plush thighs, circling his hips as he eases into you— He’s lying. In his world, there’s no easing. Leon’s dick is mean, and he can tell you’ve been dying for a rough fuck. He bottoms out the second his head pops past your fluttering hole. Then he’s balls-to-the-wall. Like, literally. They’re heavy against your ass, slapping loudly with each measured thrust.

“Baby,” Leon starts, he’s breathless, rolling his hips into yours, “I swear on my life, sweetheart, if that shit drops I’ll beat you fuckin’ bloody.” That article dropping would signal the end of his life as he knows it. Your pussy clamps down on him at his words. “Oh, you nasty little bitch, you liked that?”

There’s a string of yes, yes, yeses! and then a string of expletives, and then a drawn-out call out of his name as he drives into you with all the force of a freight train. Your nails are scratching down his back, and your pussy is coating him in the same wetness that pools below your ass.

“Take it, baby, take it, fucking take it.” It takes one last thrust for you to come undone, your orgasm has your body going ramrod straight, and then your pussy fucking gushes. And Leon in all his years of sex and women and pussy and fucking has never made a girl do that. Half of him is convinced you’ve gone and pissed on him, the other half is sure he’s made you squirt like girls do in porn— Holy shit. He’s twenty-seven years old and he only just made a girl squirt.

You cry out as he grinds into you, his dick bumping your cervix, his pelvis grinding into your clit— And you sob, shaking your head as another burst of liquid spurts out of your cunt, soaking his abdomen, soaking his fucking shirt that belongs to the costume department—

Fuck, he’s gonna cum. He’s cumming hard. Leon’s balls tighten, and his shaft twitches as his load shoots out of the tip of his cock into your tight cunt. He didn’t pull out. If there’s one thing, he’s good at, it’s pulling out. Leon made a girl squirt, and he didn’t pull out. All in one day. What an accomplished man he is.

“Mmm.” You roll onto your front, face in the pillows as you catch your breath, still shivering as aftershocks zap at your nerve endings. Leon wipes the sweat built on his forehead, strands of his hair stuck to it. “I’m not convinced, the article’s still going up.”

What a bitch.

“Right.” He delivers a brisk swat to your ass, it elicits an involuntary yelp. “Guess I’ll have to convince you. I got a week, don’t I?”

“A week and a half,” you say, not bothering to bid him bye as he zips his cargos, “I’m pretty hard to convince.” Cheeky.

“It can be done.” Through another round of dick from Monday to Friday.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[deliciousangelfestival]

Love Me A Little

Character: Secretary!Bucky x Female!Reader

Words: 1,539

Summary: "Love me, even just a little." When she uttered those words, they struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly bewildered. After all, he was just a secretary—his world and hers seemed galaxies apart.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

A/N: Check out the male version of this story - Be Mine.

It was already 1:00 a.m., and the streets lay deserted, easing Bucky's drive. The sleek black Bugatti smoothly entered the apartment basement car park. Just one more turn, and he would find his usual parking spot.

"Screech." The sound of tires screeching echoed in the empty basement.

"Huh?" Bucky's foot instinctively hit the brake as he caught sight of the familiar figure standing in front of his car.

"Y/N?"

It's you. The sole daughter of the Rogers family, the heiress to Starlight Enterprises, a conglomerate spanning oil and gas, telecom, retail, and financial services.

You had fled, prompting the company to dispatch security teams in search of you.

And here you were.

Bucky stepped out of the car. "What are you doing? Don't you realize everyone's been searching for you?"

You scoffed, your tone laced with defiance. "So what? At least everyone will learn that I'm serious. I refuse to marry that guy."

Bucky understood the depth of your frustration. Your family was orchestrating an engagement between you and their business partner. But you vehemently opposed it. He comprehended why; the man they wanted you to marry was notorious—a playboy and a drug addict.

Unable to sway your resolve, Bucky carefully chose his words. "You should go home."

He reached out, gently clasping your hand, his touch pleading, wanting to guide you to safety.

But you recoiled, pushing his hand away. "I don't want to."

Bucky's heart sank, his expression pained. "Your family is worried about you."

Your retort was sharp, cutting. "Are they really? Or are they just afraid of losing their golden ticket?"

A tense silence enveloped them as Bucky grappled with the weight of your words. As the secretary to your brother, Steve, the Vice President, he was privy to the inner workings of wealthy families, aware that most marriages were arranged for business purposes.

Like Steve and Peggy, who defied the odds and found happiness together despite the pressures of their world, you refused to succumb to a loveless marriage.

With teary eyes, you gazed at Bucky, desperation etched in every tear. "I'll tell my parents I'll marry you instead."

Bucky sighed, feeling the weight of your request once more. You had asked him this before, seeking refuge from the loveless future awaiting you. Each time, he had declined.

"Not everything will always go your way," he murmured, his words heavy with resignation. "You've been living in a bubble as Princess Rogers." He paused, unable to bring himself to utter the name of your family's empire. "Now you're facing reality."

You fought back the tears, stung by his harshness. It was the first time Bucky had spoken so coldly to you. "Do you think my feelings for you are fake?"

"My whole life has been arranged from A to Z without my opinion," you continued, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

"The only thing I have is my dream of us living happily ever after. Can I at least have that?" Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you struggled to contain your emotions.

"Stop dreaming. Go home," Bucky commanded, his voice firm as he pointed behind you.

'Screech.'

With a screech of tires, a white Mercedes arrived to collect you. It dawned on you that Bucky had already informed the security team of your whereabouts.

As you watched Bucky walk away, a surge of determination washed over you. Clenching your fists, you whispered, "I'll show you."

########

A few days later

The entire Rogers family had gathered for tonight's dinner, including your grandparents, Thomas Rogers, the esteemed founder of the company. Bucky joined the dinner as well, having become one of the company's key figures, seated right beside you.

Despite the gravity of your previous conversation, you seemed to have put it aside, acting as if nothing had happened when you saw Bucky.

The dinner unfolded in its usual extravagant manner, with everyone engaging in polite small talk until dessert was served.

Your grandmother, Anna, broke the silence. "It's wonderful that we could all come together like this. We must discuss our youngest's engagement."

Your mother, Sophia, nodded, her smile gentle. "I met with them four days ago, and we've already ironed out all the details, from the church to the wedding."

Bucky's mind raced. Four days ago? That's precisely when you had gone missing.

Anna's excitement bubbled over. "This wedding will be magnificent. I can hardly contain myself."

But only the two women seemed enthused; your grandfather, Thomas, and your father, Benjamin, remained stoic, while your brother Steve stayed silent.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the air—a sharp "clank" as a fork stabbed into a plate.

All eyes turned to you.

"I don't like it," you stated flatly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Sophia's hand hesitated mid-air, poised to call the waitress, but froze when she heard her daughter's words.

"I don't like anything," you continued, your voice ringing with defiance. "I don't like that person, the wedding, anything."

"Y/N, stop," Sophia interjected, her tone tinged with frustration. "We've discussed this."

"Discuss?" you retorted bitterly. "Do you mean when you ignore my words?"

Anna's patience wore thin. "Y/N, enough with the tantrum. This concerns the entire family."

You crossed your arms defiantly. "I refuse to marry him."

Anna rose from her seat, ready to reprimand you, but a sharp glance from Thomas halted her in her tracks. Without a word, she sank back down, chastened by her husband silent command.

Thomas fixed you with a steady gaze, the same gaze that had once spoiled you as his beloved granddaughter. "Explain to me the reason why."

"I don't love him," you declared, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love someone else."

A sudden palpitation coursed through Bucky's chest. He sensed the situation spiraling out of control.

"Whose the person you love?" Thomas inquired, his voice firm.

You didn't hesitate. "Bucky."

'Ba-dump'

The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the rapid thudding of Bucky's heart echoing in his ears, his mind racing as he grappled with the revelation unfolding before him.

Bucky rose hastily, his intention to apologize to the Chairman halted as your hand clasped his, the determination in your eyes stopping him in his tracks. It was the first time he had seen you like this, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

As all eyes turned towards you, you swallowed hard before speaking up. "And I'm pregnant. Bucky is the father."

The room erupted in chaos as Sophia and Anna screamed in unison.

"What?" they exclaimed in disbelief.

"Bucky! How dare you touch my daughter!" Sophia lunged forward, her hand reaching for Bucky's hair, but Benjamin intervened, restraining her.

Bucky opened his mouth to protest and deny the accusation, but the words stuck in his throat. He was taken by surprise, too.

"Silence," Thomas, the Chairman's authoritative voice, cut through the commotion, bringing an abrupt end to the chaos.

He rose from his seat, followed by Benjamin and Steve, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.

Fixing Bucky with a steely gaze, Thomas uttered just two words. "A word."

Bucky swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he replied, "Yes, Sir," bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation.

########

In Benjamin's office, Bucky stood before the three men, the weight of their scrutiny heavy upon him as they remained silent. Finally, Thomas broke the tension with a direct question. "Is everything true?"

Bucky knelt before his boss and friend, his voice steady but his heart pounding. "No, sir. None of it is true. I've never laid a hand on her."

Thomas's expression softened, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Good."

Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, grateful for Thomas's understanding.

But then Benjamin spoke up, his tone contemplative. "Then why don't you like my daughter?"

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion as he lifted his head to meet Benjamin's gaze.

"She's better off with you than with that spoiled man," Steve interjected, his voice firm.

Benjamin nodded in agreement, his eyes holding a hint of understanding.

Bucky was taken aback. "What?"

Thomas leaned forward, his voice grave. "The wedding arrangement was orchestrated by my wife and Y/N's mother. I'm relieved my granddaughter took a stand today."

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes. "I nearly lost my cool when she said she was pregnant. I almost punched you. Thank goodness it was a lie."

Bucky struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Steve's tone softened. "Stay with her. I won't allow my sister to marry that man."

As the men continued their discussion, Bucky's mind raced, unable to fully comprehend the depth of their support.

Excusing himself, Bucky closed the door behind him, only to find you waiting for him outside.

Your worried expression melted his defenses as you approached him.

"What did they say?" you asked, searching his eyes for answers.

Bucky hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing."

You breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him into a tight hug, his body stiffening like a log. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, determination flashed in your eyes.

"I'll make you love me," you vowed softly. "Even just a little."

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@xcaptain-winterx

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@vicmc624

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mostlymarvelgirl

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

@buckybarnessimpp

@charmedbysarge

@almosttoopizza

@sapphirebarnes

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

@rebeccapineapple

@cjand10

@pigeonmama

@almosttoopizza

@thesarcasmqueen-22

@cakesandtom

@ficrecsbyellie

@reblogging-all-i-read

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #steve rogers #winter soldier #captain america #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #bucky barnes arranged marriage au #arranged marriage au #arranged marriage #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x female!reader #sebastian stan character

[mrskokushibo]

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mention of BDSM. Strictly 18+. MDNI. SMUT. NSFW.

A/N: This little drabble is inspired by the Upper Moon Car H/Cs by @flametrashira , fic discussions with my dear @koku-shibou , and the character of Bruce Wayne from The Dark Knight.

MASTERLIST

Billionaire Kokushibo who meets you at an art gallery opening party. After your eyes meet, he can’t take them off you and neither can you take yours off him. The instant attraction draws you both to work the room toward each other while politely mingling with the other attendees.

Billionaire Kokushibo who finally gets close to you at the bar and chats you up with a polite ‘Would you like a drink?’ From then on it is just you and him, moving from small talk to flirting as the evening continues.

Billionaire Kokushibo who convinces you to leave early and go for drinks at his place. Your inhibitions are as blown away because despite wanting to take it slow and be a good girl, waiting with one-on-one time until the second date, your pussy has already determined the outcome of the evening for you. Yes, you are wet. Very wet. Because who are you fooling here, he is beyond ridiculously hot.

Billionaire Kokushibo who leads you outside of the venue and lends you his suit jacket while you wait for the concierge to bring his car. He has chivalry engrained in him and would never let a lady freeze. When the car arrives, you almost squirt. It is your favourite black Bugatti W16 Mistral. He opens the door for you and lets you in and then quickly walks around the sexy vehicle and jumps into the driver’s seat.

Billionaire Kokushibo who revs the engine a little extra just to show off. He drives fast and smooth, you can tell he has advanced racing skills. He doesn’t speak much while he drives, doesn’t touch you, or makes any indecent comments, but you can see in the corner of your eye that he has a small fleeting smile on his lips every time he casts a quick glance your way.

Billionaire Kokushibo who arrives at his modernist mansion in the most expensive part of town and gets welcomed by his butler. They exchange a few words and the butler takes care of the car while Kokushibo leads you into the house and into the minimalistic but luxurious living space with a view of the city. Politely, he directs you to the comfortable lounge sofa and asks about your drink preferences. He gets the drinks and sits down opposite of you in an armchair.

Billionaire Kokushibo who, after getting your next drink, sits down next to you and initiates a kiss. He is a great kisser and smells intoxicating of purple lilies and white musk. His hands caress you just enough to make shivers run down your spine in arousal and your pussy throb beyond control.

Billionaire Kokushibo who undresses you slowly as if he was unwrapping an expensive Ming vase that he just purchased from an auction at Christie’s. He kisses you down your neckline and goes straight for your breasts. While kissing you he is taking off his crispy white shirt that was already slightly unbuttoned showing off a glimpse of his trimmed, perfectly toned chest.

Billionaire Kokushibo who now unbuckles his belt and the two of you finalise your mutual undressing. He stops for a moment to have a good look at you and you can’t help but drool internally at the sight of the magnificent muscular apparition that is Kokushibo. His perfect cock draws most of your attention as it is large and girthy and leaks everywhere.

Billionaire Kokushibo who takes you on the sofa. He is gentle at first, making you come only by using his mouth, but once he enters you, his pace increases in speed and intensity. The elegant space is filled with lewd sounds of skin slapping skin and the loud squelching of your wet pussy being pounded relentlessly by this utterly hot male. Soon enough he is cumming inside you eliciting a deep, quiet growl to accompany his release.

Billionaire Kokushibo who leads you to his bedroom where you spend the rest of the night fucking each other’s brains out until you are both covered with sweat and cum, needing to shower several times in-between sex. You fuck in the shower, too, by the way.

Billionaire Kokushibo who is very embarrassed in the morning as he needs to ask his butler to change his bedding. The two of you made an indescribable mess. And this will not be the last time that happens.

Billionaire Kokushibo who buys you a penthouse in the city so that you can walk to your work as a store manager. He lets you design the place but takes the initiative to have your bedroom soundproofed so that the two of you can be as loud as you want to be. He also orders to have a sex room and adjacent specialised wardrobe built for you two, where you can store all the sexy lingerie you already own and will purchase, as well as sex toys and other gear.

Billionaire Kokushibo who is into BDSM and the sex room is made purposely for that. Both of you are switches so that the games you play are hot. To say the least. You love being tied up in Shibari and used like a slut when it is his turn to be the Dom. He goes hard as steel when you gently put the collar around his neck when it is your turn to be the Dom. He leaks all over and squeals when you peg him.

Billionaire Kokushibo who buys you lavish gifts and orders catering from Michelin-star restaurants when you decide to stay in for a longer sex sesh. He knows the value of a good woman and will spoil you beyond belief. He buys you a matching Bugatti W16 Mistral so that you can think of him when you need to go for a drive to visit your friends.

Billionaire Kokushibo who asks you to marry him when on a holiday in Paris. He books the Eifel Tower just for you two and proposes on top of it. Afterward, you go out for a lavish dinner and spend the rest of the night fucking at the Suite Imperiale of the famous Hotel Ritz and indulging in the most expensive champagne the hotel has to offer. Yes, you don't just drink it, you bathe in the champagne as well, and, of course, have sex in the bath.

Masterlist

Image: Marsiankaa on Pinterest

Tagging 💜: @horror4themasses @doumadono @muzansfangs @crescentmoontsuki

Banner by @cafekitsune

Pictures in title: Pinterest and Bugatti Motors.

#kokushibo #demon slayer #smut #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #kny smut #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kokushibou demon slayer #kokushibo demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba kokushibo #kokushibou #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo x you #kokushibo x reader #demon slayer kokushibo #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x female reader #kny kokushibo #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x y/n #kny x you #demon slayer x you #kokushibo smut #michikatsu smut #michikatsu x reader #kny michikatsu #michikatsu tsugikuni

[pianocat939]

…

(I ended up studying for like 5 hours today on foreign language idk why, but yeah- I’ll try to get a request done. And start on Ch. 1 of monster series)

I make way too many alternates but…

Just listen.

Mean girl Donnie.

Tw: implied/explicit threatening, implied bribery maybe?, very disorganized thoughts, blackmailing, controlling behaviour, degradation, please read with caution just cuz’ the relationship is pretty toxic…in a controlling way

Like not the popularized, blonde and have a group kind of mean girl-

I mean like…

Super smart and super rich Mean girl Donnie.

He’s on the way to valedictorian, (and will be). He has a lot of power within the school, whether it’s being leader of multiple clubs or a student president.

He’s super fucking rich. (Somehow…) He’s wearing Dior, Prada, Saint Laurent, Swarovski, Burberry- Anything you can imagine of luxury.

He never looks bad. Ever. He’s always looking perfect. He could be wearing a really dashing purple suit and loafers one day. And another day be wearing hot pink and white sweater and skirt- like he wears all kinds of clothes. But he never looks bad.

He doesn’t have a minion group. He solely believes in his independence. [His brothers…he doesn’t put much notice on them, he’s a more notable being]

Let’s say MC is like. Just there. Not unpopular or popular…just there.

Their life is pretty mundane until they accidentally bump into Donnie while he was fixing his- idk lipstick or eyebrows- causing it to go wild on his face.

He’s immediately offended, confronting them why they have the audacity to ruin his perfect makeup/brows.

[his appearance (feminine or masculine) changes every day so either situation works]

MC ends up getting a life of hell from then on.

Wether they’re accused by teachers for no reason, or wondering why their friends or more on edge when talking to them. Their school life isn’t exactly hell…but isn’t great either.

At some point, they can’t tolerate it and ask Donnie what he did. Only to end up unraveling a horror story of a dictator.

He’s blackmailing them, threatening that he’ll expose it to everyone, and anything. (MC didn’t even do such a thing, he just managed to fake it).

Poor MC can’t help but accept his deal by being his “minion” for the next month.

In the morning, MC has to basically chauffeur Donnie to school, in a flashy ass Bugatti.

They have to carry all his stuff, and follow him around. They can’t go through their normal schedule, they have to follow his.

They have to participate at all his extracurricular events, meetings, whatever.

.

.

.

Until a few weeks later, the things they have to do change.

They have to wear the clothes he’s picked out for them on whatever day. [it’s always matching in colour or style with his]

They have to call him any form of endearments he wants. And gets pissed if they don’t.

[Now I know he isn’t for physical touch, but for the sake of the alternate bear with me]

On days he wears lipstick, he covers them in kisses on their face, staining their cheeks all over. And they can’t take it off, because of his annoyance. So the entire school knows.

They have to follow EXACTLY the same schedule as him, even outside of school. Like…maybe not doing the exact same thing, but waking up, sleeping, and all like the daily things have to be aligned with his.

They have to call him every night and talk with him…keep him company. (Which MC soon realizes Donnie actually thinks of MC as a significant other, just in a controlling way.) He gets quite lovey-dovey during the midnight calls.

“MC…you’re the only person I like touching at all~ I mean…you look so stupid walking around covered in my lipstick stains hihi~…”

They sleep over at his house every weekend- they’re just basically incorporated into his life.

…

By the end of the month, the entire school just considers MC as Donnie’s lover…and MC can’t deny the title no matter what. The school believes Donnie more than MC.

——————————————————

(This brain rot turned out a lot longer than I thought oops-)

You know, we got rich mean girl Donnie,

How about Dumb Pink Squad Leo? Like, the actual stereotypical mean girls.

- Celina

(I need help from my thoughts lmao)

#rottmnt #tmnt #yandere #yandere rottmnt #yandere x reader #rottmnt x reader #yandere tmnt #tmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie x reader #yandere donnie

[getoswhore]

‘ ASK FOR A CAR WHILE YOU RIDE THAT DICK! — multi.

☰ ft : time skip + sugar daddy! sanzu, izana, kakucho, wakasa, akashi, inupi, koko x f! bimbo! reader

+ synopsis : asking your sugar daddy for a car while riding him!! heavily inspired by; cardi b – WAP feat. megan thee stallion. | est. 1.3k wc

cw/tw : sws + riding, sugar daddy x sugar baby dynamics, age gaps (legal), overstimulation, pet names, awkward moments?!

— pt. one! • pt two!

☰ HARUCHIYO SANZU ,

— he's a very coarse sugar daddy, reckless and not even shameful about it. you don't truly know how he gets his money to spoil you so much–or even if it's his own money. but either or, sanzu is mean when flaunting his money at you–crude to say the least. if he gives you money he expects some blowjobs soon, if not, he stops spoiling you. it's always on his time, but when it is, he's so much fun!–crazy, but he always makes you laugh at his crazed stupidity.

the rough skin on skin echoing in the dim room rattles at your core, listening to the sloppy mess of your sopping pussy milking his cock at each heavy and breathless bounce.

“sanzu!” his name drags out with an empty moan from your lips, almost pitching to the ears–not only you're trying to fuck him, but his eager hips keep rolling against yours; too antsy to wait for you to drop back down–already jutting his hips up every time your sopping folds are teasing at his blushing tip.

“fuck me right.” sanzu hisses with cruel hands bruising at your sides, forcing your rhythm to be faster than what it already is. he's so impatient.

“don't be so mean! you're too big to ride like this and that quick.” you pant with heavy breaths, naked chest heaving with pearls of sweat.

“fine, fine. but is there any way an offer can motivate you to keep up baby?” his cock throbs as you settle against him, feeling the heavy pulse twitch deep inside of your weeping gummy walls.

your head tilts with wide eyes.

“well, now that you ask! i promise i will never ever complain and i promise i’ll keep up as long as you buy me a pretty red car!” you spring up, eager hands slapping hard against his chest.

regrets foil at his brain. he wishes he can watch his words around you more carefully knowing how dimwitted you can truly be..

“fuck it. sure baby, but keep that promise or i’ll get it towed.”

☰ KUROKAWA IZANA ,

— he was a bit hesitant at first, but the little sparkle in your eyes made this crazed man give in soon enough. izana is a little more ‘lowkey’ about being a sugar daddy–he just never thought he'd get so lonely that he'd need a little stupid slut to keep him company.. he's more spontaneous about fucking you more than the thought of spoiling you with his money, yet seeing you get all excited about the pretty pink dresses in the stores fills something missing in his heart.

you were always so used to those wide and docile eyes of his keeping still, almost not even blinking–deathly just starting into yours, but now, those pretty hues are behind heavy lids.

izana can barely keep his eyes open, just the smallest of peaks you can catch glimpse of them through his lashes. his mouth is even wider–used to him not talking much but it hinges slightly open with breathy groans feathering out soon as you sink yourself down to the base of his cock.

“fuck, you ride so fuckin’ good.” izana’s head cranes back with pretty frilled white hair following along.

“i can also ride a bugatti just as good!” you perk up, catching the symmetry in his face to shift at the sudden outburst. his eyes twitch open, and his mouth closes, confusion settling in his features.

“i mean, if you get me one i can prove it!” your hips grind against his lap unintentionally creaming his cock with your slippery mess. and the question ringing at his ears buzzes off, just the thought of you milking him ached at izana.

“sure, sure. we'll get one tomorrow, but i just want you riding me right now.”

☰ KAKUCHO ,

— he's so sweet. he may look like a big scary man, but he's such a lover–he's always so adamant about setting up schedules for a new pedicure or some new lashes for you, more than you are, even sending you money when you two aren't together. he likes to take care of you, to say the least. he even enjoys spending more quiet time and sharing dinner together at late-night restaurants, the kinds that treat you to the fullest. he's more of a gentleman than the common sugar daddy, he respects you, and the hustle.

he seems the type to enjoy being the only one in charge, but the blurbs of groans spewing from between his lips like a drunk says otherwise..

kakucho was too focused on your sweet pussy gushing around his throbbing cock, too focused on the puddled mess of cum dribbling out your little cunt as you prop yourself up and down his hefty cock.

in such euphoria, you riding him like this eases him, feeling your tight pussy sucking in his pretty length every time you sink down on him really just relieves all that tension from work.

“perfect, so perfect.” kakucho groans with a lolling head and long hair curtaining his beating flushed face.

“perfect enough to get a new and pretty car!? like a pretty bright mercedes!” your sudden and quick movements made his stomach churn and heavy balls to tighten up.

he almost even flinches, “a what?”

“a pretty bright mercedes!” you repeat with wide eyes that hint with a sparkle and he looks confused but it lures him in.

“of course baby, you are perfect enough to get a new mercedes.”

☰ WAKASA IMAUSHI ,

— wakasa is not the best. he looses track when he should even pay or spoil you–but never when you should get on your pretty ‘lil knees for him. he's also lazy at times, not too keen on going out much–morr of a homebody, but he’ll let you roam around with his card in hand once in a while.

wakasa only truly enjoys you riding him, those droopy and lazy eyes speak for themselves. he's too busy all of the time, and now he just wants someone doing work for him..

with hooded eyes, he lazily counts heavy money in his hands as you slide yourself up and down the fat of his cock breathlessly. riding him like this eases him, feeling your tight pussy sucking in his pretty length every time you sink down on him really just relieves all that tension built up in him.

you can feel your knees almost buckle, shakily trying to lift yourself back up. and with a heavy sigh, you bottom out–clammy hands tremor at his sides and numbing thighs are sticky with sweat.

“hey, you can stop when i cum, remember the rules?” wakasa doesn't even bat an eye up at you, only focused on splitting and staking the money across his bare stomach.

you huff and pinch your fingers together, “well, i’ll just take this since this is going on longer than usual.” taking a wallop of money into your hands, and wakasa finally peers up at you.

“it wouldn't be if you were fucking me right, and what do you think your gonna do with that?” he eyes you with a jutting cock throbbing deep in your cunt.

“buy myself a car, something you should've been got me.”

☰ TAKEOMI AKASHI ,

— akashi is more caring than you'd think someone like him would be. he's easy on you, almost fatherly; making sure your alright when you two aren't together, sending you money for ‘lunch’, and pressing other guys to fuck off. he's protective, to say the least, he doesn't mean to be, he just wants to spoil you since he does get lonely with no family around to spend time with instead, and an older man like him struggles to get on normal dates with women his age.

the toxic stick rolling in akashi’s mouth puffs out smoke in sync with the guttural groan he hisses, feeling your new nails bite deeper into his broad shoulders as you try to take in his heavy cock with each determined roll of your aching hips.

“fuck, feels so fuckin’ good.” akashi’s messy hair is tangled up in his face but you don't mind, he looks so pretty like this.

“‘n good girls deserve it all.” he blurbs out with needy hands clinging to your sides, thumbs soothing at the soft skin.

with tricky and unattended words like that, your fuzzy brain goes a mile a minute, thinking of all the things you can get, new lashes and nails, shoes, clothes..

“i want a car then.” your tone is almost serious, your rhythm even settling against his pelvis to make this bold statement–his pretty cock fully delved into you as you do.

akashi’s cigarette almost fell out his mouth.

“a car? right now?” his brows furrow in with a deep crease, trying hard to not explain what he actually meant.

“duh! you can like order them online or somthin’!”

☰ SEISHU INUPI ,

— he's a doll. such a gentleman. he respects everything you do. he respects that you're doing what you enjoy, being spoiled and fucked. and yes, he may not be much of a talker but he enjoys giving the best for you; he's always more than willing to give you what you want and what you need than sex. don't get him wrong, he loves your pretty little pussy so much but again, he also enjoys spending time together almost as if you two are an actual couple.

his cock is thick, a bit intimidating as it barrels deep into your little cunt each time you roll your hips harder against his pelvis. even a milky translucent ring of sticky cream rings around the pulsing fat of his base.

and trying hard not to make much noise in his office as curious customers scan through shiny cars in his shared shop feels almost dangerous. a dangerous game of keep quiet.

his chair is smooth enough to keep an easy balance as you clash your hips together; pretty pussy sucking in his cock each shift. only panting, soft moans, and mutters spew out your mouth, and you try hard to muffle them into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, even biting down at the pulse.

until your heavy eyes catches a glimpse through the shaded curtain, and all thoughts scatter in the matter of seconds.

“inupi! that! i want that car.” your practically yelling and trying to open the curtains, almost exposing both of your sweating, naked bodies sticking together, but his hands are faster, catching yours and trying hard to get you to lean back–the blushing crown of his cock almost even poped out as you leaned over to take a better and eager look at the new bright and blue lamborghini.

“y/n!? about twenty people are walking around in there, you can't just do that–”

“i don't care, i want that car.” you pout, and settle back onto him, the quick fill jolted at you, but you're quick to cross your arms against your naked chest.

“alright, fine. i’ll tell draken to put it to the side..”

☰ HAJIME KOKONOI ,

— the worst. koko is annoyingly cocky about his money and treats you like an actual slut. he looks down at anyone who has less than him–and poking at the thought of sharing his stolen success with someone like you makes him want to chuckle in your face.. but giving and receiving isn't too bad–as long as you're giving him more than what your getting, you have to work for it just how he did at one point.. once you do, he treats you like a little cum princess, even letting you run around with his card for a few hours.

your knees keep buckling. you're not so used to riding koko and his big cock–especially backwards with feet pressing hard into the silky satin sheets and aching thighs trying to bounce yourself against him. but the feel of cold hard cash sliding against the soft fat of your ass takes your mind far.

and with each heavy bounce, koko slides in more money, letting it run down your sides and pool around the bed, almost mimicking the feel of romantic rose petals.

“all this money, ‘n it's all yours. so spoiled.” koko hisses out a deep groan at the hard press of your ass. and that cocky remark lit something in you, ringing in those little thoughts to quickly pile in.

“could by a new car with all this—”

“i was just about to ask!” you ask all perky and you don't stop your quick rhythm against him; sopping cunt still sucking in his heavy, beating cock at each drag you roll against him with.

koko almost chuckles at the cheerful pitch in your voice and the determination to please him, “hm? well, as long as you can ride me just as good in there, then of course i’ll get you one.” he sleazily slips in more money between your thighs.

tags : @sparklingtragedy , @kenmasbimbo , @sacvh , @rynfushiguro14 , @sauza , @getosbunny !!!

#finally the long-awaited finale of this series #im so shit at coming up with ideas KSMSMS #💌.tr masterlist #sanzu smut #sanzu x reader #izana smut #izana x reader #kakucho smut #kakucho x reader #wakasa smut #wakasa x reader #akashi smut #akashi x reader #inui x reader #inui smut #kokonoi x reader #koko smut #inupi smut #inupi x reader #kokonoi smut #koko x reader #tokyorev smut #tokyorev x reader #tr x reader #tr smut