#♡ mocha works

[ayatsujis-hotcocoa]

A small glimpse of a drabble I'm working on!

Birthday fun with Nikolai!

Nikolai opens the door to your apartment, walking in with you following behind him. As you close the door, he puts the presents on your couch before disappearing into your bedroom. When you go to the living room, you notice Nikolai’s absence. Before you could call out to him, he called you. “Darling! I’m in your room, I have a special surprise for you!”

You smile softly and chuckle under your breath, only imagining what Nikolai could’ve possibly planned for you as you go to him. When you enter the room, your eyes widen slightly, and you feel yourself heating up with arousal. Nikolai is sitting at the edge of the bed with his shirt unbuttoned and his pants unbuckled. As your eyes travel down his body, you can see the obvious bulge in his pants and the deep lust filling his eyes. Nikolai smirks as he sees you staring at him, speaking up. “C'mere and lay down like a good doll, hm? Let me spoil you.”

I don't know when this will come out, hopefully sometime within the next two weeks. In the meantime, I will be working on headcanons! Feel free to go into my asks and request anything you'd like to see done. Any and all feedback is appreciated!

[st4rbwrry]

𝓢𝓐𝓣𝓞𝓡𝓤’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛.    satoru gojo.

ᰔᩚ warnings. 5.2k, fem!reader, professor!satoru x college student!reader, classroom sex cs duh, reader’s 23! & satoru’s 30!, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱, titty sucking, biting, size kink, voice kink, sub / dom dynamic, fingering, choking, spanking, lotssss of dirty talk omgie, multiple orgasms, pet names ꒰ lil’ girl (literally just a taunt), pretty, baby ꒱, roughhhhh sex ona desk, minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. ♡

꒰ mocha’s note ! ꒱ : got inspired by miller’s girl and wrote this in literally five hours. so, happy bday daddy. <3

he always knew there was something wrong with you. how could there not be? one, you’re deadly in the eyes. that he solidified the first day. always looking at him like you wanted to eat him. two, you're a mythical deity. stunning. you could be born in a different world for all he knew. sometimes he hated those voices that told him to stare at you. watch you watch him. velvet red hair cut in layers that reach the middle of your back. dermal piercing a few inches below your right eye, multiple on your ears, septum ring in your nose. your eyes are slanted like a cat, fluffy lashes enhance your features. your lips always look soft, darkly lined, and topped with a sheen of gloss. 

most days you dressed according to weather, or really whatever you felt comfortable in. yesterday, when going over the topic for an essay he wanted everyone to have written and turned in before spring break hit, you were different. just tuesday you were wearing oversized men’s jorts with a basketball jersey tied up to your back. now, when you walked into his classroom with less clothing than he’s ever seen you in, he had to question it. you looked nice. it wasn’t any of his business, maybe you could be going out later with friends. it’s not his business. 

what was his business was how you strutted up to his desk after you waited for every student to exit class. satoru sat in his leather chair, legs sprawled and hands clasped together in front of him as he leaned back into his seat. his eyes absentmindedly trail up and down your body full of curves and soft, ample skin. the tattoos on various areas of your body are more evident. the black prescription glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you chew your gum and hand over your essay. those short ass white ruffled shorts and a yellow crop top, without a bra, with green accents and black font that read ‘soulaan’ in the middle a distraction.

“hi, ꒰♡꒱. you’re always one of the few people who turn in their work early.” 

“what can i say, i was very passionate about this essay,” you twirl your finger within your necklace, scanning his entire face with flirtation. satoru hums, pretending not to notice. “i really put my entire soul into it, so please take your time reading it. it’ll mean a lot.” 

“must’ve been a really interesting dream of yours.” 

“you have no idea.” 

and you were fucking right. that night satoru went home and started his usual routine of getting comfortable, making dinner, and brewing some coffee so he’s wide awake to read over thirty student essays. luckily, he didn’t ask for much. they were given two options. their goal was to describe the perception of dreams or in detail, write a tragic fantasy story. most of the essays he read felt like middle school writing, frustratingly rubbing his temples as he graded multiple papers, trying to figure out why basic comprehension skills were lacking, even doubting himself as a teacher. he tries not to stay up for hours, flipping through papers and scribbling—until he sees your name on the corner. 

satoru sniffles, taking a sip of his coffee before he’s getting comfortable in his chair, sinking into it and beginning to read what you wrote about. you’ve always had a way with words, great formatting, expansive dictionary. when reading your dream, it felt like a real novel, like he was a part of it. then, he felt really a part of it, to a point where it was uncomfortable. the story has to do with a woman who aches for an intimate union with her lover, yet he’s withholding her pleasure, leaving her trembling on the precipice of desire in their lover's den. the greek god you describe as your lover is dominating. stunning facial features, starlight hair, and crystal blue eyes. the woman is feeble, urging him to see her, to yearn for her, to become one with her. abandoning her needs for his personal endeavors. 

with gentle touches that linger on the softness of her plush thighs, smoothing along her brown skin shining under the moonlight, she results in the sensual act of pleasuring herself. the help of her lover is nowhere to be found in the darkness where her body laid on milk-toned, silk sheets. leaving her to pursue the cavern flowing with burning, hot arousal. she finds herself daydreaming of what could’ve been as her delicate fingers find themselves sinking between her precious legs. trailing another hand to her throat which she clutches tight as if it were his. rolling her hips into her hand to grind on as if he were entering himself into her. dulcet whimpers escaping her throat as her body arches off the bed in ecstasy, mind swirling with pleasurable emotions and unforeseen desires. rocking her body upon the bed as if his heavy, big body hovered over her and lost himself in her. spanking herself as if it were him. chewing on her lower lip as if he were gnawing at them. orgasming with tiny whimpers and sobs as if he were the cause. him, him, him. . . 

the heat encasing satoru’s face could only sum up one feeling; arousal. the essay goes on for so much longer, conjuring up unwanted fantasies of a woman he promised to push back into the furthest parts of his brain. you were altering his mind. it was clear as day exactly who you wrote this for and about. him. what you wanted from him, the longing ache to have him. it’s enough to give him a migraine, cutting off his desk lamp before forcing himself to take a very cold shower. those words replay in his mind, the image becoming erotically more vivid. picturing your body atop of silk sheets where you’d fuck yourself out of pity. is that how he’s making you feel? edged? unsatisfied? whimpering in your loneliness? he’d never do that to you. 

satoru hates himself for needing to handle the painful hard on he’d gotten, head buried under the stream of water as his fist twists roughly around his aching dick, grunting at any image of your face coming to mind. it was a highly inappropriate thing to do. a professor and his student sleeping together? it’s all too cliche. you were a grown ass woman, so if teasing him by switching up how you dressed to purposely gain his attention, and writing erotic pornography was your way of showing him you needed him for one act, one day, one night of nasty ass sex . . what were he to do? you are a beautiful woman, and he’s always felt a source of attraction to you, but you weren’t worth jeopardizing his career for. it’d have to wait. 

the last day before spring break came and he was ready to confront you about your so-called ‘essay’. when he notices you walking into class, he tries to avoid staring at your attire; a really short black pleated skirt with a matching ed hardy tank top and glossy mary jane’s on your feet. gulping and keeping his focus on your eyes as he whispers, “stay after class. i need to talk to you.” 

you try to hide the smirk wanting to display upon your face, winking at him before nodding and finding your seat. class seems exceptionally longer today, finding yourself dozing off for most parts, shutting off your brain by doodling into your journal or making a grocery list for this weekend. pulling a sweet treat from your purse, you find a pink lollipop to distract yourself with, oral fixation getting to you. satoru almost chokes on his words when he catches you swirling your tongue mindlessly around your candy, being a fucking brat in his eyes. gently kicking your feet and resting your chin in your hand to keep yourself from sleeping. 

when the lecture ended, that’s when your heart began to race in excitement, and maybe a sheer sense of nervousness. curious to hear what he was going to say to you. making your way down the steep stairs of the class, you sit in the front row, plopping into a chair and crossing your legs as you look up at him, watching him say his final goodbyes as the class completely clears out. half of the campus was empty considering most students began making their way home, so really only fifteen students showed their faces today. 

satoru’s shoulders roll as he sighs, folding his arms in front of him. “so, ꒰♡꒱. . . i read your essay.” 

“uh huh, what’d you think?” you smile. 

“it's definitely something. very good writing, never doubted you on that. but, i do have some questions.” 

you snap your fingers before pointing them his way like a gun. “shoot!”

“you remember the topic of discussion, correct?” 

“wrote it down in bold,” you nod. 

“right, but, i think we went far off topic. as in, inappropriately.” 

“what are we, in high school?” you scoff. “i’ve read worse. i used to grade papers for teachers.” 

“i understand that. but it’s evidently not what i meant as far as the topic goes. in this dream of yours, the two characters are . .” he pauses, trying to figure out what to say. 

“fucking,” you finish for him, still sucking on your lollipop. 

satoru’s gaze flew there momentarily before finding your eyes again. “having intercourse, yes. i’m just having a hard time comprehending what you wrote.”

“why is that?” 

“how is it considered a tragedy?” 

“well, the woman couldn’t have what she wanted in the end. she was edged, given false hope from promises that were made to her. pleading for any form of gratification. why, as a man, deny your lover of acts that forever bonds their love?” 

you bat your lashes, eyes going wide as you word it so . . dreadfully. satoru inhales, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he squints at you. 

“so, she killed herself in the end, because she wasn’t gratified?” 

“as implied, yes. the pain of a woman, you’d never understand. it’s unbearable. feels like death, satoru,” a pained sigh emits from you as you hold your heart and shake your head. “ugh.” 

“꒰♡꒱,” satoru blinks, your games becoming unfunny. “was this dream something you recalled, or are you trying to imply something?” 

“dreams can’t always exist, unless you persuade yourself to make it real,” you respond firmly, making yourself as clear as you possibly can. 

“do you want it to be real?” 

“do you?” you counter. 

satoru pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, turning his attention away. “i-i can’t answer that.” 

“why not?”

“it’s just . . not in my position to answer that. it’s inappropriate.” 

“but, you felt it, right?” your voice grows softer.

he looks at you. “felt what?” 

“our attraction to each other,” your head slowly tilts to the side, eyeing him up and down, watching him slightly shift. “through that essay. what i want from you, what you’ve been wanting from me, professor satoru.” 

his jaw stiffens. “you’re essentially crossing a line.” 

“the only thing i’m crossing are my legs,” a loud pop! rings as you remove the lollipop from your mouth, looking at it before deciding to crack it in your mouth and tossing the white stick somewhere in the room. satoru’s fists clench whilst he admires your glistening legs. “you want them . . un-crossed? open?” 

“꒰♡꒱.” 

“mhm,” you moan after hearing your name desperately fall from his lips. he didn’t mean for it to sound that way, sucking in his breath as your fingers trail within your plush inner thighs. “it’s wet, professor satoru. see.” 

next, you spread your legs apart, lifting your skirt up some more so satoru can easily see the imprint of your cunt against the red fabric of your cotton panties, wetness sealing and sticking to you. 

satoru clears his throat, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck with a rough grunt, trying to contain himself from acting on his obvious desires. his polished loafers click amongst the tile as he strides quickly towards the classroom door, locking it and pulling the shade down so there would be no interruptions. he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he shouldn’t even react this quickly in fact. but he’s been pent up ever since last night, having such a hard time sleeping. only the thought of you glimmering in his mind. 

satoru takes a deep breath with shut eyes, hands sliding back into his slacks pockets as he leans against the desk, one foot crossed over the other, those once daydream blue eyes now staring maliciously in your direction. you bite your lip, slowly rising from your seat to strut towards him, hips swaying salaciously. 

your body brushes amongst his seductively slow, tits grazing his chest and arms that are tightly fitted into his baby blue button down, lips coming up to graze over his clenched jawline. your hand trails up his left arm, feeling the hair on his skin rise as your nails brush along his neck where a vein throbs violently, blood rushing. 

“don’t be so scared, i don’t bite. and i don’t tell.” 

in a swift move, you're hiking your body on top of the mahogany wood desk, kicking off your shoes and planting your feet flat on the surface, legs spread wide to allow him to slot himself between you. satoru’s vision remains unchanged, still staring at the seat you once resided in as he breathed heavily. your manicured foot skims up and down his strong arm, your short, bubblegum acrylics sliding into your mouth as you lewdly suck on your own fingers while mewling. satoru can see you in his peripheral vision, your hips shifting dauntingly, just waiting for him to react. 

“you already locked the door, what are you waiting for?” 

“for you to say it.” 

you grin. “say what, baby?” 

satoru scoffs, shifting in his spot from the sudden pet name, dick uncomfortably hard. “that you want me to fuck you, ꒰♡꒱. i need to hear it.” 

okay, you get it. lowering your leg from touching him, you go to grab his hand instead, the expensive watch on his wrist cold to touch as you guide him to touch the top of your thigh. “want you to fuck me like you've been needing to, satoru. please.” 

an unexplainable breath of air releases from him as he finally faces you, and seeing you spread along his desk like this felt like a hallucination. most of this didn’t feel real. maybe he was still sleeping? and if that was the case, there were no rules. his towering body slots between your thighs, glaring down at you possessively as he smoothes both his veiny hands up and down your thighs, tightening at your hips before sliding back up. going back down to apply pressure to your ass, then lowering his head to your pretty face. 

“gimme your mouth,” satoru rasps, clutching your neck to pull your face up before you oblige and lean in for a kiss first to feed his hunger. 

satoru grunts in your mouth, soft lips molding with your own in a passionate kiss. it’s slow, sucking on each other's lips before you’re sucking and moaning on his thick tongue, moaning into his mouth while he pants into yours. you suck on his lips, turning your head slightly to deepen the kiss, unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to feel the heat from his skin. then goes his belt, unraveling it along with pulling down his zipper, and that causes satoru to get aggressive with his mouth. kissing so rough it makes your pussy throb. 

“you taste so good, pretty,” he moans in between, turning your neck to the side to latch his lips and tongue on the flesh, your eyes rolling back as he found your sensitive spot. you gasp from the whimper he emits as he does it. 

“f-fuck,” you whimper, gripping his wrist as he suddenly sinks his teeth delicately into your skin, soothing it with a rough, slow swiped of his tongue before ending it with a kiss. 

he’s traveling to the other side to do the same, your hips rocking on the desk to try to get closer to him, his bulge only grazing your soaked pussy. you lift your hips and scoot closer, balancing yourself by gripping onto his shoulders to drag yourself against the outline of his dick. satoru moans from the motion, locking his right hand under your left thigh to raise higher so he could grind against you like you whimpered for, dry humping you as he continues to kiss you.  

soon, he’s lifting your top over your tits, eyeing them as they sit on your chest, barbells pierced into the dark skin of your nipples. it created a visceral response from him, shifting his hips to grind against you harder as if he’s fucking you slow, cocking his head to latch his full mouth around your tits. your head falls back as he pulls them into his mouth greedily, dropping your hips on him mindlessly. 

“satoru, you’re g’na make me cum too soon,” you whine into his ear, but he ignores you completely, almost growling like a dominant animal in heat as he locks you close. 

“g’na cum a few times fuckin’ me, so get over it,” he mumbles after releasing your tit with a lewd pop, switching his mouth to drop his tongue and enclose his lips over the other, tongue flicking with his hands slamming against the side of your ass falling bare of your skirt. 

satoru hisses a deep ‘fuck’ as you rotate your hips quicker, humping him like a bunny, an orgasm in fact happening. satoru picks up his pace, rolling his hips forward to match your rhythm, his eyes sparkling from your desperation. he’s leaking precum, and your slickness is drenching his briefs. 

“mgh, baby—fuck,” your tongue lolls out to lick and suck at the shell of his ear, biting gently on his earlobe as your knees buckle and you whimper while grabbing at his backside to pull him indefinitely closer. 

“lemme taste that shit,” satoru’s almost begging, your heavy breathing by his ear and inability to stop moving your hips fucking him up. he knows you taste as good as you look. 

you grip the edges of the desk as you nod, legs shakily raising as he roughly pulls your victoria’s secret thong with a blinged hemline off to finally see his other girl, lowering to his knees in worship. 

“she’s pretty as hell,” he whispers with an erotically drawn-out moan, licking his lips before he leaves open-mouthed kisses at your inner thighs, holding yourself open for him. he spanks your thigh hard, the hit making you squeak and stare at him with a stretched jaw and furrowed brows. “where’s that thank you, lil’ girl?”

“t-thank you, baby.” 

“mhm, that’s right,” now his lips are latching onto your sluice clit, hungry eyes piercing into your every emotion as you whimper pathetically and maintain eye contact you’re sure he wants. “fuck yes, baby. so fuckin’ good, girl. rock on my face.” 

sinking your teeth into your lips which you’re sure were bitten red and nearly chapped, you comply, gripping tight on the desk while your other hand tangles into tresses of white, swallowing and lifting your hips just like you were doing a few minutes ago. satoru’s thumbs are embedded into either side of your thighs, using only your pelvic muscle to shift into his mouth, his fat tongue hot on your pussy. 

“tongue so good, baby. nng,” your face scrunched up as he growls into your cunt, your inner thighs shaking when he slicks his face up and down your pussy, juices covering his chin. “right there, right there!” 

satoru keeps his mouth where you want it, focusing mostly on your engorged clit pulsating on his tongue, digging into and occasionally capturing it with his lips, his salvia drooling onto you as he moans, his eyes scrolling as you tug at his hair. 

“oooooo, fuck, yessss,” you didn’t mean to scream, but his attention on your clit gets distracted by his thick fingers sliding into your hole, twisting and thrusting two of them simultaneously. his jaw shifts quick, kissing and licking while he fucks you open. “ ‘t-toruuuhh.” 

“unh huh,” satoru continues to swallow you. “gimme that fuckin’ cream, baby. i want it all in my mouth. make me proud. atta girl.” 

you cry out, stomach heaving. “i love when you talk like that.” 

his fingers pull out to quickly spank your clit, your hips stuttering as he’s slipping them back in, pumping three to four times before taking them out again and spanking your clit again. “that’s what you like?” 

“y-yessss!” 

“fuckin’ sexy ass girl,” he spanks your outer thigh with vigor, coming to grab your throat once again, giving you a chaste kiss while he finger fucks you faster. “ain’t you? fuckin’ let me know. scream that shit out loud.” 

“i amm, ugh—god . . pleaseeee.” 

“go ‘head and cum, c’mon. gotta paint my dick pretty with it, yeah?”

“oh . . my . . g-goddd,” the way he talks to you makes you dizzy, and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. his mouth is filthy, and when you cum hard for the second time, he makes sure you suck on his fingers to taste yourself. wrapping your lips around them to suck them clean before satoru’s sticking out his tongue to rush over your mouth along with his fingers, pulling them into his mouth to suck after. 

your eyes are drooped, feeling so fucked out without actually having him fuck you yet. who would’ve expected your professor to be this . . nasty? it’s like he’s been waiting for you to speak up so he can fulfill his own disgusting fantasies. safe to say, you made a good choice. 

satoru’s standing back to his full height, which never fails to make you ditzy from the size difference. you feel so small on this desk under him. 

“c’mere, move up all the way,” he’s now guiding you to turn your back to him, which makes you pout since you wanted to face him. he chuckles deeply at the audible disapproval, swatting your ass. “you’ll still see my face, greedy. be patient.” 

he positioned you on your knees on top of the desk facing a dusty chalkboard, spread eagle and hands pinned behind your back, almost curled up into a fetal position with your tits to your knees. satoru swallows, your pretty red hair falling angelically around your soft features as you wait for him to fuck you. his dick is throbbing in his fist he’s pumping it into, the shlick shlick noise leaving you anticipated as he uses your arousal as lube. he’s aligning the tip with your opening, teasingly rubbing the head up and down, the vein on the underside of his heavy dick throbbing. 

his other hand is keeping you pinned down at your hip, also lifting the flesh of your ass so he can slide into you. he’s pushing forward, choking on a moan the deeper he gets. you’re real tight, it being slightly difficult to push fully into you. words like ‘relax’ and ‘breathe baby’ utters painfully from satoru as he tries not to lose his shit at the sight of your pussy literally gripping his dick to pull back in after he slightly shifts back. when he’s halfway in, leaving the hand on your hip, he uses the other you lock your wrists behind your back, gyrating his hips to cock back and grind into you. 

“ooo, f-fuck,” you whimper, hands wiggling in his grasp, nails managing to scratch his arm. satoru watches the flesh of your ass bounce with every deep, slow thrust, pussy squelching. 

“see? look at the shit,” satoru comments to himself, knitting his brows together in fascination. “told ya’ it’d make it pretty,” 

“can’t see it,” you whimper, upset. 

“you can feel it, right? it’s stretchin’ that pretty girl open,” satoru moans gruffly, moving himself closer so his sharp hips hit your ass with every movement. he’s getting rougher, your skin nearly bruising from his hot touches, the bangles on your wrist clinking with each thrust. 

“i feel it,” you hiss, stomach caving in. “bet s’so pretty.”

“yeah? promise to give it a taste after?” 

“yeah,” you nod slowly, eyes tightly shut. “y-yeah. will, ‘toru.” 

“good girl.” 

gasps fill the air when he fucks you harder, balls slapping against your sticky clit as your ass recoils and claps back onto his abdomen. he’s got a deadlock on your posture, satoru’s face completely serious as he fucks you so, so rough. his sounds are animalistic compared to your own; whiny and soft. coughing out moans as you heave against the desk creating a spot of condescension. he’s so big hovering over you, bending you underneath him, papers falling off the desk while he rutted into you. skin clapping, moans synchronized, and sweat dripping. it’s the hottest fucking scene. 

“takin’ me so deep, baby. this shit feels so fuckin’ . . good, god,” satoru’s voice breaks, hitting you ass with a dirty grunt. “ungh, fuckin this pussy g’na get me in trouble.” 

“i n-need you,” you fight to break free from his grip, flipping your hair over to one side of your face as you sit up after he releases his grasp. “closer.” 

taking the initiative, you go to stand on your feet, back pressing to his chest as he clasps your throat, standing on your tiptoes to rotate and grind your ass back on his dick, stuffing you so full you feel it in your tummy.  

“that’s my girl,” satoru’s kissing your earlobe, pressing his cheek onto the side of your face as the two of you controlled your breathing together. “it’s your dick, take it. fuck that pussy how you want. i’m your fuckin’ toy.” 

“ssshit,” sucking your lips inwardly, you keep your hand on satoru’s wrist while your arm slings behind his neck to balance yourself, the ridges of veins on his dick scratching all the good, achy parts. 

“c’mon, girl, got me waitin’ too long,” without incoming, satoru spanks your thigh, hips thrusting steadily. “if you g’na fuck me, do it right.” 

you try to keep your composure, but the sultry, deep baritone of his voice directly by your ear makes your waist stutter, that warm, bubbly feeling swarming in your tummy. his mouth is back on your neck, and that activates you quick, sobbing and clapping your ass back needily. the mutual desperation to cum is at an all-time high. 

“there we go, t-there we go, girl. that’s what i wanted. s’good,” satoru’s gorgeous eyes cast white, jaw dropping as he grunts, holding your waist just to hold you, allowing you to handle it. “ungh, fuck. keep fuckin’ back.” 

the burn in your legs prolongs as you sway your hips and fuck back on him, his grip on you keeping you balanced to give you enough space to move how you want. this dick is slick with your cum, a ring of cream covering it as you cry and push all your weight back so you're feeling every inch while he's experiencing every tight clench.

“ ‘toru, i—” your words are cut off by an interrupted orgasm, cumming yet again as you greedily roll your ass back with weak cries. your legs feel staticky, almost falling down before satoru makes sure to lock his forearm around your stomach. 

“ ‘toru needs t’ cum too.” 

interlocking his right hand with yours, the two of you hold hands as he lays it on your thigh, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder with a hand grasping your throat tight, nearly cutting your airways. he’s getting . . mad? nothing satisfies him more than to know he’s made a woman cum multiple times in one session, but when he gets as horny and fucked out as he was now? it wasn’t a good idea to leave him without one orgasm. and he can definitely give you more than just one. he wanted to show you that, you deserved that. 

satoru begins to pull his hips back, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips to let you know he still cares and will comfort you after. just needs a few minutes of shutting off that part of his brain to fuck himself dumb. your pussy clenches and pulsates sloppily on his dick as he fucks you harder than he has before, the breath knocking out of your throat while he squeezes his eyes shut and pounds assertively. they’re neither fast nor slow, just steady and rough. like he’s been needing it so damn bad. the warmth of you getting him out of character, the scent of your perfume enveloping him. the conditioner in your soft, red velvet hair. the tattoos inked into your brown skin, the piercings on your ears and face. your fogged-up glasses, courtesy to him. the unexplainable pleasure he derives off of hearing you whimper ‘toru, toru, toru’. 

who knows what kind of fucking spell you put on him. he just knows he’ll never, ever erase today from his memory. it’ll play like a tantalizing loop. tears threaten to fall from your eyes, cunt going sore from his brutal pivots, falling back weakly into his strong body and gasping from every deliciously deep, thrust. satoru kisses at your face, lashes kissing your cheekbones, trying your best to look up at him. and when you do, you can see he’s utterly gone. the groans emanating, feral growls, and pinball white eyeballs that couldn’t stop scrolling into the back of his head. you watch him mumble your name while spewing expletives, pink lips wide as his whimpers and moans break apart.

“fuck!” he bellows, moving your bodies back towards the desk as he pins you down flat and fucks your ass back onto him, that pressure tugging at him. he's pressing the side of his cheek with yours, breathing heavily while gripping your jaw and dropping his weight on your backside. “fuck, fuck. fuck.” 

“ ‘toru, please cum for me, baby. w’na taste you so bad.”

and he does, as soon as you say his goddamn name like that again, that vanilla voice of yours, seductive yet sweet, coaxing him to cum. 

“knees, baby. suck me,” satoru heaves in a high pitch.

hurriedly, you twist your body to crouch below him, palm wrapping around his dick, satoru’s hand taking strands of your hair to make a ponytail on the back of your head to bob your head to suck him, hips stuttering and his lips damn near quivering. your cheeks hollow inwards as you swallow him in your throat, satoru guiding your head as he shoots his cum hot in your mouth. you moan around him, staring up at him through your dark falsies to be rewarded with the beautiful sight of his snow white hair shielding his face, blue eyes glowing as he looks at you with a genuine laugh. 

pulling your head back, you wipe your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, satoru’s dick twitching midair, semi-hard. he holds both palms out, waiting for you to grab him so he can pull you up. you take them, and he brings your chest to his. 

“fuck, you’ve got me spent,” his hands are now on either side of your face, locking his lips with yours once more. “so damn good.” 

“mhm,” you blink with a goofy smile, pulling your shirt down and smoothing your hair. kissing his face, you wipe your lipgloss off any part of his skin. “so, same time after break?” 

© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡

[muntitled]

Sweet Hearts

♡ Mark Lee x afab!reader

♡ Summary: Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with stolen kisses that bled into fiery make-out sessions.

♡ Warnings: Language, Producer!Mark, Idol!Reader, Forbidden Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Humor Overworked Losers In Love, Smut (+18) Dom!Mark, Brat Taming, Minors DNI, Massive, Praise Kink, Slight Exhibitionist!Kink, Dirty Talk, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mark,

RAHHH, kinda feral writing this, I'm sorry

From the moment you established yourself in the industry, you had been quite comfortable viewing yourself as an independent career woman, thank you very much. Many men had tried and failed to sway you from the retches of your passion projects respectively. Hyuck being onesuch romantic endevour that had failed to shine in the shadow of your work. You had tried to make it work. You really did.

No amount of dick could keep you away from the studio. It was your hapoy place: nestled in a stuffy booth with your notepad opened on your lap filpped with slightly manic notes and lyrics.

No one, before Mark had ever seemed to share that sentiment.

"I'm a busy girl," your words barely left your mouth before being kissed away by Mark's eager lips. He was panting heavily. You both were, as he pressed you up against the wall of some record exec's boardroom. He swiped your braids out of the way, to better reach the expanse of skin by your neck. Both of you pawing at each other's clothes. Both of you overflowing with yearning.

"I'm a busy dude," he whispered back. "We don't have to turn this into anything serious, Sweetheart..." Mark's thumb was rubbing tentatively at your soft hips, as if waiting for the go ahead before he ravished you.

You had both decided this secrecy was enough. You and Mark perused the halls of your record company, greeting amicably as if you hadn't felt his hands around your throat.

He had kissed and kissed and kissed you, until someone inevitably walked by.

You had never met anyone as sonically obsessed as you are, until you were acquainted with Mark. He, would quickly become not only your incredibly talented and driven producer but also a friend with added benefits.

Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with stolen kisses that bled into passionate make-out sessions. You were developing a frankly perplexing habit of overanalyzing how attractive he looked when he runs his hand through his hair during spells of frustration- or when he got the incomparable burst of genius to freestyle over a beat as if it was a long lost friend. Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...

You couldn't retain satisfactory orgasms from your music alone, could you? You weren't inhumane... you needed a companion.

"I just want you..."

And he had you.

So badly it was beginning to mess with your concentration.

"Alright, let's run it from the top-"

It's not everyday a girl falls helplessly in love with her producer.

"Yo, you good?" Mark's voice sounds from the intercom, dragging your eye from your notebook up towards the two men on the other side of the sound glass.

"From the top?!" Haechan cries incredulously. Without looking at him, Mark nods. Wholly unimpressed by Donghyuck's whining. "I think the song's fine," Hyuck runs a hand through his hair. His large feet stomp on the carpeted floors and you fight off a grin.

Mark scoffs in that way that only Haechan gets him to do and you suck on the straw of your mocha from inside the booth. Your disposition screaming, 'the girls are fighting.'

"Yeah you would think the song's fine," Mark before he rolls his eyes, Hyuck petulantly screams, "What's that supposed to mean!?"

"She clearly wants us to carry on," your teeth clench down on your straw as you're ripped into the middle of their argument.

"Do you want us to carry on?" Mark asks and your throat goes dry. Behind him, Haechan's palms are clutched together as he mouths 'Please, no, please!'

"I-"

You were at a crossroads.

The urge to people please was gnawing at your insides as your eyes drifted from Haechan, a vocal coach you loved and adored and Mark, a producer you'd just started working with...

The urge to give into them both was hanging heavily on you.

"Remember, Sweetheart, it's okay," Mark's voice sounds from the speaker, eliciting a wave of... something you're not quite sure of yet.

A crush... perhaps.

"I would..." You clear your throat, swing Haechan's eyes, "I would feel better if we polished some things up,"

Mark nods along, a small smile tugging at his lips. A look of betrayal on Hyuck's face.

You knew perfectly well that the song was fine, better than fine, actually. The only thing stopping you from leaving the studio was the boring life that awaited you. Your boring apartment with your boring cat (whom you loved dearly). Everything beyond these four walls was as monotonous as the day is long. No one waited for you out there.

In here though...

"Okay, yeah, no. I can't do this," You watch Haechan gather his belongings with incredulous eyes.

"You're abandoning me? We haven't even gotten to the chorus and you're abandoning me."

Haechan's hair is in complete disarray as he types hurriedly on his phone and you're left to watch from inside the booth. "While you re-record and re-record an already perfect record, my stomach has growled 5 times-"

You roll your eyes, "Haechan, food is for the weak. We can do this."

"I can't," He shook his head, evading eye contact as he pulled on his letterman jacket, effectively stowing away hi will to work and be persuaded to work.

"Let him leave." There's something in Mark's tone to suggest you quit trying to persuade Haechan.

"You psychos can overwork yourselves together."

When Haechan left, he took with him, a sense of platonic ease. Here, with Mark staring directly at you, his presence was stifling.

~

There aren't any actual windows in here... if it weren't for a quick glance af your phone, you would've never known night has already fallen.

"What would really be hot is if you added the last word of the verse, ad libitum. So if you said 'takeoff' but with like a lower pitch in between the chorus and the second verse. I think that would be great," You realize you had taken to swaying in one spot and quickly corrected yourself as you placed your hands on your headphones and nodded, vaguely agreeing but never really hearing anything after the words 'great'. Hearing anything falling from Mark's plump lips at this very moment would send your imagination hurtling into the fiery pits of hell. Him, staring at you so intensely through the glass and behind the soundboard left you unable to focus.

"Sweetheart?" He says, with a finger on the intercom. "Do you get me? If you do, I'm gonna need to hear you use your words, okay?" With his eyes fixed solely on you, waiting patiently for your compliance, you are convinced he was literally and figuratively trying to kill you.

"Sorry," You say, trying to dispute how heavily his words weighed down on you, "I'm thinking about all the babies that die in between you purposely using the words ad libitum instead of just saying ad lib." Saving yourself with swift and easy rebuttal had always been a specialty...

"Sorry, sorry!" Said Mark, "I'll stop with the annoying producer talk," he rolls his eyes behind the glass of his thick-rimmed glasses.

"Dont stop," You find yourself saying, "Its hot.

Seconds pass with Mark's index finger tapping away at the soundboard.

"Continue."

But it was incredibly difficult to continue with your mind and all its unsavory thoughts seeping out of your skull and straight into your lyrics. Perhaps working on the more explicit songs with Mark had been an utterly dire decision, one that practically solidified your downfall.

As you rattle through the dirty lyrics, you make sure to keep a firm gaze on him. Mark maintains eye contact from behind the glass, giving nothing away under his black cap, clad in his short sleeve black shirt and his all black attire.

The dimness of the studio suddenly feels too dim.

This 'mood' that Mark had strived to create in the peroration of your session is suddenly working too well.

Soon, the track is being replaced by Mark's slightly gruff voice echoing in your headphones.

"Sorry to cut you off, Sweetheart," The coolness with which he utters the nickname releases a wave of arousal in your core, and you inadvertently take a seat on the stool closest to you, subtly crossing your legs in front of you.

"I just want you to take note of something for me real quick..." for a moment you’re only nodding slowly, waiting for him to continue but he never does. Mark sits silently staring at you with yet another earth shattering, unwavering gaze. You're confused, which Mark would have found incredibly adorable if you weren't actively being such a brat.

"I said take note of something for me, please." He finally lifts his hand, making vague scribbles into the air.

"Mark. You want me to actually write this down?" He only responds with a succinct, I-dare-you-to-argue-with-me "Please."

You make a petulant display of rolling your eyes. His chuckles bleed into your headphones, disrupting your nonverbal tantrum when he says, "You really are trying it today..."

"Maybe if I had someone to correct this attitude, we wouldn't have found ourselves here, would we?" You mutter the sentence as you're staring into you notepad, completely evading his heated gaze. Silence grows pregnant between the two of you before Mark continues, completely choosing to ignore you.

"I'd like you to take note of the brisk allegro that erupts in the pre-chorus," He spins his pen between his fingers as he reads from his own notes. He looks absolutely worn out and so unmistakably beautiful it makes you want to scream.

"I think that part in particular might be vital in solidifying the overall kick of the actual chorus." Not to mention, seeing him in work mode tickled your ovaries in ways you could never have foreseen. In the studio, you had always been the one wading through the laziness of others, picking up the slack where needed and making it your obligation to ignite your producers with the zeal to work with your meticulous ass. But Mark had turned the tables and for the very first time you find yourself unable to think about work.

"Mark," You send him a bored expression, "I literally make slut music, do you really need to be calling it an allegro?"

He is quick in pressing the intercom to clap back, "Slut music deserves a well mastered allegro too, don't you think?" You're only left to slump your shoulders as he continues.

By this point, you know that he knows exactly what you want for him.

Why you're being particularly difficult to work with.

Why you were fighting him on every term but for some unexplainable reason, he's keeping you from it.

"It's good but I feel like we need a pure unprocessed sound... the song sounds too wet, I dunno,"

You inhale sharply, raising a finger into the air, to which, Mark completely ignores you, keeping his eyes on his notes, his brown locks brushing along his eyes.

"And if you're gonna say 'I could tell you something else that's wet' don't bother, because you'll only get muted."

Your shoulders once again sag and you find yourself audibly whimpering into the mic. That quickly catches Mark's attention, and you're left wading in the scrutiniy of his gaze.

"Fuck, I cant work with you like this." He rakes his fingers through his hair, forcing you to rub your exposed thighs under your miniskirt together for the umpteenth time. "Tell me what you need."

"You know what I need..."

He curses under his breath before sending a worried gaze over his shoulder and you realize you have won. It was custom for Mark to send a worried gaze over his shoulder at the door, as if terrified that Hyuck might storm into the studio, face crimson and finding his best friend not only fucking the object of his interest but dominating her.

"I think you need it too." You're quite literally the snake tempting Eve in the garden and he sends another helpless glance at the door before complying.

"A-Alright. Come out here for me real quick," this is what excited you most about Mark. Hearing the trepidation in his voice mixed with Mark's innate nervousness made you dizzy with desire. His anxiety yet still a need to be dominant... it drove you wild.

"Where is this attitude coming from?" He asks, once you appear by his side, inching towards him as if terrified by your own creation. He does not bother to get up, does not bother to tell you stand in front of him, in between his legs. You just do.

It's as if he's saying 'Do what you want. You're your own person.' Knowing full well how effortlessly you tended to submit to him.

"How wet are you?" He asks then, letting his hands graze your hips as you stand before him. His eyes squeezing shut as he rests his head on your abdomen. Your hands come up to pat down at his hair. Overgrown and brown.

"Why don't you find out?"

Mark is slow to closing the notebook on his lap and putting it vaguely near the soundboard without ever taking his eyes off You.

You can see the dark half moons underneath his eyes, stabbing at, not only your arousal, but your innate need to just take care of him. His eyes remain focused on you as he moves to clamp his hand on your exposed thigh, watching your lips part ever so slightly.

"Consider this a brief, very brief recess."

"Yes sir," You had intended for the words to come off more teasingly than it actually did, but it runs straight through to Mark's dick and he's removing his hands from your skin like you have mustered the ability to spontaneously catch on fire.

"Fuck," he replies, sending one more gaze at the door before looking at you once more. With a shaky breath escaping through his lips, he looks utterly wrecked and completely conflicted. You let him wade through the motions without any input.

You just stand there, waiting patiently for his next command.

Mark sits back in his seat, running both hands down his face before saying, "Fuck, alright. Take your underwear off for me..." You speedily oblige as your hands delve underneath your denim skirt. Mark watches with bated breath and clenched teeth as he rubs his fingers along his lips like he's thinking very deep and very hard about something. You hook your fingers into the sides of your pink laced panties, slowly dragging them down as you and Mark both watch each other with steel gazes.

"Keep the skirt on," His resolve melts, his sight set on your ruined underwear. He notices far too quickly that it's his favorite pair, eliciting another wavering breath from him as his other hand clamps around your thigh to pull you impossibly closer.

"You planned this, didn't you?" You can feel the warmth of his shallow breathing as he places his forehead on your abdomen, while he brings his fingers up to your lips.

"Open your mouth for me..." You automatically obey, bringing your mouth around his middle and index fingers. For a short while, his face remains hidden in your dress as you suck, almost petulantly on his fingers. Perhaps he feels a mixture of shame for enjoying this entire scene far too much and soon, he feels he has to peel his face away from your dress to watch you suck so prettily on his fingers.

"F-fuck, baby," His voice is strained between a mixture of a coo and a moan as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, almost immediately delving underneath your skirt, slotting them inside your drenched cunt. He is utterly ruthless as he sits on the edge of his seat, one hand claimed around your thigh as his fingers fuck in and out of you with absolute vigor. The man is utterly overcome with lust, sporting his own hard on in his joggers as he looks up at you, "Come on, baby... tell me you feel good, you know you want to."

His voice is dripping sex and your mind is completely blown with pleasure as you throw your head back. It is a mystery how you're still standing, but Mark's grip on your hip is concrete.

"Oh God- your fingers feels so good inside me, Fuck." He rewards you by letting his fingers drift over your swollen clit, racking another torrid moan from your throat as he begins to circle it with purpose. You clamp your head against Mark's hunched shoulders, his face once again buried in your dress.

"I just need'a take care or my little angel, don't I?" He's an incoherent, mumbling mess, his words as sloppy as the hands sliding against your clit, "But she makes it difficult when she's being a stuck up little brat," Your head is still craned back while his face is buried against your abdomen and it is as if you both cannot stand to truly see yourselves in such a depraved, animalistic state.

"You're squeezing my fingers baby- Fuck, is this how bad you needed me?" Mark finally cranes back to look up at you. His cheeks are ruddy and his hooded eyes are blown into saucers, "It's so fucking distracting having you so close to me." Your hips cant against his hands until soon, your legs begin to quiver. Mark brings his arm around your waist, forcing you to stand and take everything he gives you.

"You know when you're really needy like this, all you have to do is ask, baby. You know I love taking care of my baby, don't you?" You nearly cum then and there.

"Please Markie-"

"F-Fuck I didn't plan on fucking you today, least of all here. But I really need you right now, alright, pretty girl?" Your body shudders at the lost of his fingers inside you, one more flick against your clit and you would have came all over his fingers.

"Bend over for me, yeah? Mind the sound board." Mark finally rises from his chair, immediately cupping your face with his hands as he bows his head down to you, "I just wanna feel my baby girl squirm around me-" that particular string of words has you whimpering incoherently as Mark crowds behind you, pushing you up against the desk. Your hands grip the edge, careful not to temper with any sonic equipment as Mark raises your skirt lightly. His hand grazes your bare ass and you're sent reeling as your own anxieties begin to set in. You're made strikingly aware that you had never actually had sex in the studio. Lightly touching and horny pawing at each other is the most that has ever been achieved within these four walls but going all the way...

"Daddy- I m-mean, Mark, can we-"

"Shh- it's okay." He says, as if reading your thoughts, "It's totally fine, barely anyone's here. They all left-" while he coos in your ear, you feel Mark lightly push you over the desk before lifting your skirt. He tries to brush over the 'daddy' thing for the sake of your own pride but he can't help the way his cock twitched at your slip of the tongue.

"Holy fucking shit." His curses bring your mind to unholy places, being someone that rarely ever swears. Mark is absolutely far gone as he is quick to bring his cock out of his sweat pants and ease into you without a second thought.

"I need you to call me daddy again." He admits as he begins fucking you with absolute fervour. His hand is on your hip, forcing you to take each and every bit of him.

"F-fuck," is all you're able to say as he bottoms out inside of you. Your walls contract around him, stopping him for pulling out too far, and only swallowing him deeper until the head of his cock is pushing up against a bundle of sensitive nerves. You're left to squeeze your own breasts as Mark fucks you from behind, lost in the haze of chasing his own orgasm.

"Baby, if you want me to cum quick enough I need you to call me Daddy in that sexy fucking voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel."

"F-Fuck daddy you make me feel s-so"

"F-Fuck, I'm not gonna last long-" He warns.

You'repanting, as Mark begins to rut against you with little to no more constraint.

"No one slese can make you feel this good, baby?" His eyes are half crescents as he says, "Tell me you love me baby,"

"I love you, daddy- I fucking need you-"

Oh-fuck I'm going to c-cum" He exclaims, eyes squeezed shut before forcing them open.

"Oh-god, oh fuck,"

His orgasm, sparks your own. Mark hisses as he drags his cock out of your cunt before spilling his seed all over your ass. He's shaking so bad, some even reaches your skirt but he's too far gone to care.

Soon, your orgasm blazes through you like a million suns burning in your core all at once. Mark is absolutely enamored. "Back to work."

"Mark- my underwear."

"Just..." he sughs, his lips pressing against your cheek in a lingering kiss, "Get back in the booth."

[bunny-jpeg]

hello bunny! may i please order a millionaire shortcake with a side of mocha coffee, served by dark!lando norris for verstappen!reader after zandvoort? thank you so so much ��♡♡

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? the bakery is open! (yay), there are tons of items from choose from and i am so thankful for everyone who has sent me things! i am currently working through some of the older prompts! so thank you to those who sent orders weeks ago, i am slowly getting through them <3

millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." + mocha coffee: breeding kink served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, post!zandvoort gp, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!lando, doggy style, chokehold

when you saw lando sail past the finish line multiple seconds ahead of your brother, you felt your stomach drop. this was max's to win, race after race the gap between him and lando was getting smaller and smaller. but, it wasn't just your brother losing out on another world championship, it was what lando called "the icing on the cake".

he beat your brother, and afterwards he got to sink into your pussy. anything lando wanted that night, he got. and winning the dutch grand prix, your brother's home race, you could only imagine what lando had in store for you tonight.

when your gaze met lando's he winked at you and you quickly turned back to your brother. your phone buzzed in your pocket and you felt a tightness in your throat. it was going to be a long night.

if max knew what you and lando got up to in the off-hours of racing. he would probably kill lando. you've seen max get aggressive with a number of drivers, even before formula one. in fairness you carried that aggressiveness too. stubborn, assertive, bordering on mean. you had an ex-boyfriend say it was the 'lion's blood', but you proved to be too much for him. lando made you into a kitten. gone were the claws and fangs, with him you were mewling, nipping at his hands rather than chewing into flesh.

it was maybe why you kept coming back.

you stood in the mirror of lando's hotel room. you knew you should be with your family right now. but instead you ended up with the winner of the race. most would've ran by now, hidden away in the hopes that lando wouldn't sniff you out.

"he could've put me in anything, but, why this." you dropped your shoulders, "fuckin' orange." to call what lando gave you as lingerie would be a disservice to the people who carefully craft such underwear. lando put you in something a porn star would wear, barely held together with thread and lace. the icing on the cake was the temporary tattoo on your thigh close to your pussy that was of the number four. lando's number. and you knew it would be a bitch to get off in the morning.

there was a knock at the door and you said, "relax, lando." before you took one last deep breath before you turned away from the mirror and headed out of the bedroom. lando's smile dropped at the sight of you. before he could say anything you said, "why did you pick orange. i look bad in orange."

lando picked his jaw up off the floor and went to you, a slight sway to his step as he closed the gap between you two. he rested his hands on your hips while you crossed your arms. he looked at you and smiled with those dazzling teeth of his. he said, "well because of mclaren."

"right, right. and it has nothing to do with the dutch at all." you get his gaze leveled with him. and his smile only grew.

"a coincidence." he said, heat in his tone, "you're just over thinking things. you know i don't like it when you think too much." his words made you run painfully hot. you had to give lando credit, he knew exactly how to get under your skin. he loved when you were stupid, dumb enough for him.

you made a face and he pulled you in for a hot kiss, one hand on the back of your neck. you squirmed against him and clung to the front of his t-shirt. the kiss was hot. it was heated in a way that you never had with anyone else. since you met lando, fucking other men bored you. you weren't a couple, this wasn't a relationship. this was mutually assured destruction as you pulled away from him.

"i was expecting worse from you. orange lingerie and a temporary tattoo, that seems tame for you." you remarked as you played with one of the straps of the bra. you could name on one hand all of the intense situations that lando had put you in.

from sex in a car that didn't have tinted windows on a side street in italy, to the time you went to the sex club in switzerland, and especially that time you has dinner with his family while there was a vibrator slipped into your aching cunt.

he tilted his head to the side and shrugged, "as much as i love torturing you, babygirl. i thought we'd keep it close to home, close together. as much as i would've loved to fuck you with the bed hitting the wall to your brother's room, i thought this was better." he cupped your breasts.

you groaned, "enough about my brother." you were soon pulled into the bedroom. lando had enough kindness left in him to fuck you on a mattress. there had been times you were left with rug burns in places where there should never be rug burns.

you got into the king sized bed and looked at him as he started to undress. your rubbed your thighs together and braced yourself on your arms. your body was so exposed to him. you knew he was hungry for you. just like he was hungry for the prize.

"fuck." he groaned, his cock was painfully hard. the tip a deep red and leaking thick pre-cum. his face more pink than usual as he got into the bed with you and rubbed his cock up against your thigh. the kisses grew hotter as you ended up on your stomach and totally nude. you could already feel the rush of pleasure throughout your body.

"lando." you groaned, "it's not fair that you can fuck this good. you deserve to suck at sex." your back arched a little further and lando smacked your ass.

"i love when you just shut up, beautiful. you're meant to sit there be pretty. guess that's why your brother looks that way, you took all the good looks. but because of that, you need to learn to shut the fuck up." he groaned as he rubbed his achy cock up against your ass, "seen, not heard." it was all dirty talk and it made you brain spark with pleasure. he had such a grip on you, he could degrade you every way and you'd still let him fuck you.

"fuck you, lando." you groaned. you tensed up as he slammed his cock into you. not caring about takin ghis time. you needed to be fucked right now. fuck some sense into you. your little yapping mouth needed to be quiet for a while. just while lando was feeling the high of his win.

you shuddered, "fuck. lando." your hips were raised more as lando pressed more of his weight against you. his cock filled you in a painful way when he took little time to prep you. tonight was his night, he didn't have to prep you.

he hissed through a tense jaw as he fucked you with little abandon. the bed shifted under you from the force he was fucking you with. he felt something heavy in his chest, he felt the sexual pull towards you. he needed you deeply, carnally. he needed to ruin you for any other man. maybe it was a possessive drive, but it kept him coming back for you.

"if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." he choked out, he could feel the hammering in his head as he rutted against you.

"shut the fuck up." you groaned as you gripped the pillows under your face. you clawed into the fabric and groaned, "shut up, shut up, shut up!" you wanted to throw the pillow at him.

it only spurred lando on as he fucked you with heavy thrusts. he eventually grabbed you by the arms and pulled them back using it as a way to bounce you on his achy cock. you whined a little louder as he said, "maybe i should get you pregnant. finish in your tonight, make a big fuckin' mess between your legs and ship you back to your dear, older brother. then a month passes and you have to tell him that you're pregnant. he's going to lose it." he pulled you against him tighter as his cock remained buried inside of you. your cunt was nice around his cock and it made him feel amazing all over.

"shit no." you whined.

lando laughed, "oh c'mon, be my wife? how does that sound, steal you from right under you brother's nose. he'd never know what hit him." his pace became quicker and you were seeing stars. reason left your brain and your core throbbed.

you whimpered and lando continued his rapid movements. there was little space for you to breath during his thrusts. you felt your heart in your throat as he fucked the words out of your head. you whimpered and whined. your noises were music to his ears.

"lemme make you a mama, beautiful. let me get you nice and pregnant." his words curled in your brain and you were left feeling on cloud nine, "you'd raise 'em so well. be such a good mother to them." his voice grew tight as the need to finish grew.

he fucked you, letting your arms drop in favor of your hips. the soft part of you that he loved the bruise. he bullied his cock into your achy pussy. the idea of getting you pregnant made him move against you faster. he could feel the race in his pulse as he fucked you. you with all the aches and pains of pregnancy, carrying his child. he only turned him on greatly. make you his.

you came first, your body betrayed you. you arched your back and near-yelled into the pillows. you hissed, "fuck!" lando continued his brutal pace. he fucked you with a fever that made your eyes roll back a little. there was no escaping lando norris.

"that's it, angel. that's it." he said with near-softness as he rocked his hips against you. he fucked you and then he finished inside of you, even tilted your hips at an angle that made sure it would stay inside of you. you whined a little as he pulled out. he gave your ass one last slap. you were near brain dead on the bed and your breathing was heavy. lando watched you, laid beside you with his hand on your left ass cheek. when you eventually fell asleep, you were curled up on your side and didn't notice when lando shifted in the bed and got out. if his phone wasn't on silent you would've hear the shudder of the camera on his phone.

he sent a photo of your face pressed against the pillows, he wasn't sending your nudes to your brother (your brother's teammate on the other hand). he sent the message to max, "better luck next time, mate. will bring her back before breakfast ;)" <3

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.6k

warnings - fluff ♡

a/n: Watched Wonka today with my sister and my little cousins and honestly have never smiled so much during a film. Every bit of it was just pure wondourous imagination. And Timothee as Wonka was just too scrumptious! Who couldn't love him!

Masterlist

PART TWO

--♡--

I began everyday as I always did. Being ungraciously tumbled out of my pink satin sheets, poked and prodded by our various servants, squeezed into the most painstakingly prissy pink gingham dress (with a matching bow for extra faff), and hauled into my fathers car to join him on his way to work.

You see, I am the sole child of famed chocolatier Felix Ficklegruber. Since I had completed my mandatory years of studies, my days consisted of lounging about my fathers office in complete boredom. My mind practically weakened with the mundane repetitiveness of it all, and I knew it would surely combust if it was not stimulated soon. For 2 years now, I had been begging my father to allow me to study at the prestigious university at the edge of town. But each plea had been met with a scoff, an eyebrow raise and sharp “no”. Even the library was off limits.

I paced around his office, deliberately scuffing my mary janes against the carpet. I smirked at how each scrape made his face tick as if it was being flicked.

“Would you cease that infernal racket. I am trying to work, precious girl.”

“What work? All you do is sit up here eating your own chocolate.” I slumped down onto the disgustingly green couch.

“Please darling, you are giving me a headache, I must ring for my 8am mocha.” He picked up the telephone, clasping his fingers to his eyes.

I drummed my fingers against my dress and clicked my heels together. “You know,” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here to bother you at all if…I was at the library.”

The phone was slammed back onto the receiver which made me flinch. He rose from the desk and stalked his way towards me.

“No daughter of mine will be caught in some stuffy book prison-”

“That’s not entirely correct..”

“--That are refuge for the ugly, the untalented and the p–” He dry heaved. I winced at the possibility of another spew. “The p-” I lunged for a bowl as he spluttered.

“I know what you are going to say so maybe we should avoid any bodily functions.” I picked up his monogrammed hanky and wet it from my glass of water. I dabbed the cool liquid against his mouth. His eyes softened at my action and his hand softly clasped around my wrist.

“Sweetheart, you live in complete luxury. Have treasures other children couldn’t even dream of. Why can’t you just stay.” My gaze fell. His hands held my shoulders to turn me around and led me towards the towering window which overlooked the galleria. “Besides, one day you will inherit my pride and joy, my fortune, the very thing that ignites my soul, my–”

“Who’s that?” I interrupted, and pointed my finger to a beautifully disheveled man who had risen atop his suitcase in order to address the crowd. I quirked a smile and took in the strange man, who was truly more a boy, and his frightfully exciting appearance.

The thickness of the window meant I couldn’t hear what the boy was saying but his movements and expressions delighted me to no end. I giggled as he began to flap, mimicking a butterfly. I gasped as he produced from his shallow hat, a large jar of what appeared to be chocolate eggs. But once he took the top off, I shrieked in delight, as each little egg floated up as if carried by wings.

I felt my father stiffen before he shoved me away from the window.

“Now, now sweetheart. Do not bother looking at this man any longer. Clearly another hopeful vagrant but do not worry.” He lifted my chin with his pinky. “We shall deal with him right now.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who was ‘we’.

--♡--

Once the three had left their respective stores, I snuck out of our own and managed to squeeze my way through the crowd so I was left behind my father and my, and I regret to say it, godfathers.

They each took a bite of the treats offered by the mysterious man who beamed at them with awe filled eyes.

Even from my limited view I could see the flickers of enjoyment cross each of their eyes as they questioned the different ingredients. But my gazing was caught by the top hatted man. His smile grew even brighter as our eyes met. I felt unsure in the presence of a man such as him and all my normal instincts failed. So I settled on a little wave. He offered a small wave back.

“--100%, the absolute WORST!”

The man jumped out of his skin in glee, mishearing Slugworth because of his focus on me.

“Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen, an endorsement by–wait did you say the worst?”

Anger bubbling in my blood, I finally made my presence known.

“You lie, Arthur. I saw your face! You haven’t enjoyed a treat that much since daddy figured out how to make marshmallow flavored chocolate milk.”

There were murmurs amongst the three in agreement and fond memory of that chocolate milk. But they snapped back and I was held firmly by my father who apologized to Slugworth for my rude behavior. A cane was held down on the hand that gripped me. I looked up and met the sweet face of its owner.

“I am terribly sorry.” With a practiced flick I was released. I looped my hand around my saviours available arm. He led me backwards in comical cautiousness. “But I don’t think she’d like to be held for what comes next.”

Suddenly, the three men began to lift into the air.

“The hoverbugs from mumbai! They love chocolate! You must have put their eggs in the treat!” I exclaimed excitedly, whilst watching the hilarious display.

“Exactly.” In my glee, I hadn’t noticed the adoring look which the chocolatier had fixed on the side of my head.

The fun was interrupted by the chief of police. I rolled my eyes. Slugworth must have phoned.

“Now Ms Ficklegruber if you’d kindly step away from the criminal.” The chief of police gestured and I was led away as they interrogated the man whose name I still didn’t know. I looked on sadly as he was forced to give up his earnings. I shoved off the policemen’s arms, I made my way back over to the man whose face was as solemn as how happy it had been just minutes before. The excitement around the galleria had dimmed as various floating consumers were returned to gravity.

“I am really sorry.” I gestured to the measly sovereign he was left with.

“Don’t be. It was a law and I broke it. These fine men were merely doing their job. But a new day shall bring new promise.” He soldiered on with a smile and once again patted his hat back upon his head. “At least I can make rent.” He flicked the sovereign up and caught it once again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Scrubbits.”

My face fell in sympathy. “You didn’t read the fine print?” I pitied the poor man and what was about to befall him. Scrubbits contract was a common warning amongst residents but as I truly took in the whimsical nature which surrounded this man, I knew he wasn't from here. And that made me smile. This place could use something new.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyeline.

“You can’t read?” I questioned but my tone couldn't help but soften.

“I always thought my mama would teach me, but eventually my pursuits became solely chocolate.” I reached out and grasped his arm. Stroking the velvet beneath my fingertips.

Before I even knew what they were, the words left my mouth. “I could teach you.”

He was surprised. “You would? But why?”

“You’re interesting.” I peered back to the shop which loomed behind me. “I need that.”

“Forgive me, I have not even introduced myself.” He took off his hat and leaned into a deep bow. “My name is Willy Wonka.”

I giggled but responded with a curtsy of my own. “Y/n Ficklegruber.”

At the mention of my last name he looked towards the ceiling where my father still hung, gesturing feebly. “Wow. You really have chocolate in your blood. No wonder you’re so sweet.” Both our eyes widened when we realized what he said. A blush spread across my heated cheeks and meeting Willy’s eyes suddenly became impossible.

“Y/N GET AWAY FROM THAT CANDY GRABBING SCOUNDREL!” My fathers voice beat down from the ceiling where he had been watching my entire interaction with Wonka.

“Meet me at the fountain, tonight, 10pm sharp. Daddy will be in a sugar crash by then. It’ll be easy to sneak out.”

Before I could rush off to avoid my father once his feet returned to earth, Willy halted my movements and placed his empty palm out in front of me.

“Before you go, I want to give you something. You shouldn’t have anything I make in bulk. You deserve something a little more…” He placed a cloth over his palm and ripped it off revealing a deep red chocolate heart decorated with tiny flakes of gold. “Bespoke.”

I placed the treat in my mouth and audibly moaned at the taste. This man was a true genius. My father is going to be so mad. I could jump for joy.

“Till tonight, Mr Wonka.”

“Please, call me Willy.” I leaned up and delicately kissed his cheek in a way of goodbye.

--♡--

That night after discovering the true horror of what being a “guest” of Scrubbits included, Willy begged and pleaded with his newest friend, Noodle, to help him sneak out for the night because, in his words, he’d seen…

“The most beautiful girl to ever exist and if I don’t get to see her again tonight, my heart might just burst out of my chest!”

--♡--

[malusokay]

A cosy guide to a cosy December ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Have a Christmas movie marathon. I will post a must-watch list soon!! <3

Cinnamon oatmeal... or just oatmeal in general... winter is oatmeal season... make it cute, though!! :)

Having hot Chocolate by the fireplace

Bows. Bows. Bows.

Visiting Christmas markets and going ice skating

Cute Knitted sweaters and uggs

Baking cute Christmas cookies and decorating them with your friends

Spending hours making your wish list

Writing cute Christmas cards to friends and family who live far away :)

Start working on your 2024 vision board

Buying cute ornaments for the Christmas tree

Fluffy socks and fuzzy blankets <3

Experiment with your coffee order!! I've been OBSESSED with mochas; cinnamon is also a MUST.

Trying. a different make-up style. I always love the frosty/blushy look for winter <3

Planning your Christmas outfit

Buy some cute Christmas-themed pyjamas (Victoria's Secret always has cute ones!!)

Scented candles to set the mood. My current fav is the salted caramel one from ZARA Home!! <3

Go see the Nutcracker

A good Christmas playlist is a MUST. I already made mine; feel free to check it out:

I've been completely swept up by the Christmas spirit, so get ready for many, many, many cosy Christmas posts!! ⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

As always, please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!! •̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙♡*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

❆‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧౨ৎ

[deepestdelulu]

A cosy guide to a cosy December ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Have a Christmas movie marathon.

Cinnamon oatmeal... or just oatmeal in general... winter is oatmeal season... make it cute, though!! :)

Having hot Chocolate by the fireplace

Bows. Bows. Bows.

Visiting Christmas markets and going ice skating

Cute Knitted sweaters and uggs

Baking cute Christmas cookies and decorating them with your friends

Spending hours making your wish list

Writing cute Christmas cards to friends and family who live far away :)

Start working on your 2024 vision board

Buying cute ornaments for the Christmas tree

Fluffy socks and fuzzy blankets <3

Experiment with your coffee order!! I've been OBSESSED with mochas; cinnamon is also a MUST.

Trying. a different make-up style. I always love the frosty/blushy look for winter <3

Planning your Christmas outfit

Buy some cute Christmas-themed pyjamas (Victoria's Secret always has cute ones!!)

Scented candles to set the mood. My current fav is the salted caramel one from ZARA Home!! <3

Go see the Nutcracker

A good Christmas playlist is a MUST. I already made mine :)

As always, please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!! •̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙♡*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

❆‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧౨ৎ

[jelliberri]

Mocha plumbob ✿

A plumbob that replaces the default plumbob ୨୧୨୧ my mesh. ୨୧ works on humans, occults, and human club leaders. ୨୧ You can only have one plumbob override in your mods folder.

There is also no need to change the color numbers of the plumbob to "1.00" in your default.ini file since I've already done that in sims 4 studio, so just directly put both files in your mods folder .ᐟ.ᐟ Please let me know if there are any issues with the plumbob in game .ᐟ T.O.U ♡ don'ts .ᐟ୨୧ Do not place my content behind paywalls. Do not claim my content as your own. Do not steal my content. Do not copy my content. Do not modify my mesh or recolor and publicly share it.

Dos .ᐟ୨୧ You are allowed to re-upload my content but with credit. You're allowed to recolor and modify but only for personal use and with my permission.

please download both files! Download | free ✿

[honeydazai]

₊˚⊹♡ midday sun and canned crab

feat.: Dazai / f!reader

content: soft pining stage flirting with Dazai (who is insufferable), some suggestiveness

join my tag list here! 🪻

When push comes to shove, Dazai appears to be resolute, will seemingly impossible to shatter.

His unwavering determination when it comes to matters important to him, as far as you're aware, extends to mercilessly crushing his enemies, to pursuing women in order to convince them to commit double suicide with him — and, apparently, to eating crab.

“You're too cruel, bella”, he whines, voice taking on a pathetic tone, “Do you have no issue whatsoever with seeing me starve?”

Your eyes narrow. “You're obviously not starving when you still have the energy to complain and annoy me.”

He blinks. “Ah, but I'd always have the energy to do that, though. Even after death.”

“You're still not getting my lunch.”

“Just a tiny piece”, he insists, giving you his best begging expression, a dog asking for scraps, “I haven't eaten in days. It hurts, you know?”

As if to prove his point, his stomach grumbles; with Dazai, you wouldn't be surprised if he knows how to make it do that on command. He's tugging unnecessarily hard on your heart strings.

Still, you've been looking forward to this, too. Having skipped breakfast, the idea of a warm lunch got you through the day — only to now be threatened by brown doe eyes.

“And whose fault is that?” Your protests are half-hearted, walls already crumbling, and he knows it.

“Well, for starters it's definitely Kunikida's fault. He's been working me to the bone lately. Don't you think I deserve a bit of a reward for that?”

“Not any more than I do.”

Dazai hums. “Well, I guess that's true.” Leaning forward, his puppy eyes morph into a smirk, oozing with the confidence you're used to from him. Reaching for your chopsticks, cold skin grazing yours, he leans in closer, causing your heartbeat to pick up. “How about we share, then?”

You were hoping to devour the whole meal yourself. For a moment, you consider remaining hard, stubborn. Unyielding. Dazai's fingers rub gently over the back of your hand, drawing faint patterns onto it. With how close he is, you're able to discern the different shades of brown in his eyes; some dark, some warm amber, though you're quick to look off to the side again, flustered by the constant eye contact.

Every single thing about Dazai is intense. Sometimes, you're not sure just how to deal with it — though, usually, you give in; when he's asking you to come along to a café with him, not quite a date but something close to it, when he's begging you to stay over the night, touches fleeting and suggestive, when he's telling you that Kunikida won't mind it if you're half an hour late the following morning, chin hooked over your shoulder, lips against your jaw.

You give in now, loosening your grip on the chopsticks and allowing him to hold them instead, his smile content. Not surprised in the least.

“I knew you couldn't resist me”, he coos, lifting a piece of crab meat up to your mouth, waiting; his grin widens when you close your lips around it. “You're adorable. This is how couples should be eating together.”

Butter and salt spread on your tongue, downright heavenly. “Except we're not a couple.”

Dazai merely hums in his throat, melodic and unconvinced, and feeds you another piece.

notes: i have. dazai disease.

tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @Irethepotato @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter-uwu @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646nsfw @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @senpaiable @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @urgodmoon @4nthonyyliving @brokeniced @nikolaisdove @dxwnstxr @scinclaitnoir @snips18 @flowzel @satohruu @squigglewigglewoo @rainy-dazie @itzashlyn123 @rheeeeeeeesiees @eggcoreloser @mariaace @mello0cat @warriordemigosworld @thescrunkly @ainegueneres @maroj23 @dazaiserectnips @little-miss-chaoss

@hattersrabbit @suve32 @v4mpash3 @fairlyfuji @seraphxoxo @inojuuy @suicide-with-dazai

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Fingering, cunnlingus, cumming, dirty talk, jealousy (Gojo is kinda a dick again but he eats reader out good lol)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 4,908

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here!

Chapter 4 - Masterlist- Playlist

Chapter 5

You balance the cups of coffee, one for Nanami, one for Gojo and one for yourself, cursing yourself for not just grabbing a drink carrier. You head up the elevator of Kamo tower, punching in your number, thankful that no one was in there and you could breathe for a moment.

Yesterday was intense.

This week has been intense. Since Gojo set his sights on you, it’s all you can do to keep it together lately. You feel nervous as you even think of seeing him back in his role as the arrogant ass of a boss, after feeling like you got to know him just a bit, that there was more to him. Was it enough to stay though?

The elevator dings and you walk out, smiling at Shoko and Suguru who were talking amongst themselves. They greeted you, as did nearly everyone that worked in the giant offices. You did know a lot of people for having no ‘friends’ per se. You peek as you turn towards Nanami’s desk, seeing him sit there contemplatively staring at a chart as his shoulder held the office phone to his ear.

You look to the left and see Gojo Satoru leaning against the office door, with a pretty young girl with blue hair leaning towards him, wearing a cute little business suit. You pause, looking down at your coffees in your hand, and then Gojo catches your gaze, hidden behind his shades.

He calls out your name and you internally curse, popping your and Nanami’s coffees on your desk real quick, before bringing Gojo his signature drink you got daily for him. A white chocolate mocha with extra sugar. You had absolutely no clue how he drank those and ate candy like he did and still had his lean physique.

“Here you go, Sir.” You said with a smile, handing him the Starbucks cup with his name on it. He gave you a little nod, taking it, peeking at your desk as if wondering why you had two cups.

“Thanks. This is Miwa, she is going to be helping you with the smaller tasks, like getting coffee for instance.” He took a sip, sighing, and you looked to the young girl, who was grinning up at Gojo like he was a rock star. Gojo tells Miwa your name, and she notices you for a moment.

“Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” She takes your hand and shakes it with a sweet smile. You have to admit her energy is really kind, and you get no bad vibes from her. Even if she’s clearly wanting to pounce on Gojo.

“It’s great to meet you, Miwa. I certainly can use some help with these things so I can focus more on the business side of my work.” You sigh in relief a bit. Gojo was actually listening and trying to help. You should be happy, right?

Right?

“It’s so awesome to be here! Ahh Mr. Gojo is just the best isn’t he?” Miwa batted her dark blue lashes at Gojo, who preened under the attention like some fucking peacok, standing even taller as she leaned so close her breasts were against his shoulder.

“I am the best, it’s true. Aren’t I?” He peered at you. You snorted, instantly covering the action, and his jaw tensed. Miwa looked shocked at you.

“He’s an amazing boss and businessman. So what is her title exactly? Just so I know how to train her.”

He opens his mouth, but she cuts him off, yanking out her cell phone, handing it to you with puppy dog eyes. “Could you take a picture of us, please? ” She asks you, and you blink for a moment. Confused.

“Yeah, please. ” Gojo looks to you, pushing down his shades, those words dripping with reminders of yesterday. You feel your cheeks heating up as you take her little cell phone, scowling up at Gojo, who was grinning.

Oh yeah, you hate him.

You just remembered.

“Sure can, Miwa get close to him so I can get you both in the shot.” You say, saccarine dripping out of your words like venom.

You watch Gojo’s grin go away, jaw tensing. As if he couldn’t stand the thought of you not being jealous. You weren’t playing his games. Miwa literally squeals, standing in front of Gojo, grabbing his arm and putting around her shoulders. You remembered your selfie with Gojo, you weren’t touching or anything like this, but you remember how happy you were.

“Perfect. Smile, you two!” You watch him put on a little smile and throw his peace sign, as Miwa looks like she’s won the whole fucking lottery. “Love it. Look, Miwa, what do you think?”

Miwa bounces up and down and hugs you. “Ohmygod I love it! Thank you so much! My friends are gonna flip.” She giggled, texting away. You errantly notice her making it her phone background.

“I’m glad. I have a couple things to do but I’m here if you need help.” You told her, and she grinned brightly. She was adorable, you had to admit.

“Meet me in my office in a few.” Gojo told you firmly. You give him a little nod, barely acknowledging him.

“You got it, boss.” Your sarcasm drips like venom too. You give him a little two finger salute, and then go back to your desk, snatching up the coffees. When you turn back around Gojo is staring at you, eyes trailing up slowly across your body like a fucking caress.

You hate him.

He licks his lower lip, making it glossy, then turns, guiding Miwa into the office, who was still lovingly staring at her phone. They closed the doors and you roll your eyes as you think of whatever dirty shit his whore ass is gonna get to. Miwa seemed sweet so you almost wanted to warn her, but fuck it.

You head over to Nanami’s desk once more, and he’s just hanging up, giving you a little smile, just one side of his firm lips turning up, and you hand him his cup.

“It’s your usual.” You smile, and he sighs.

“Ugh thank you, I needed one.” He takes a sip.

“Of course.” You turn to head, but he surprises you by calling out your name. You turn back. “Hmm?”

“I could really use your help here. If you have a minute.” He gets up and yanks a chair from across his desk, pulling it next to him and patting it.

“ The Nanami Kento needs help from me?” You giggle, sitting down next to him, inhaling his woodsy scent. He was wearing one of his outrageous cheetah print ties, which went against the basic color suits he always wore.

“You’re an expert at figures.” He crooked his finger, and you leaned in, looking at his monitor, which had graphs and charts. “Could you make sure I’m not missing something?”

“Sure. Hmm. Scooch.” He scooches over, and you squeeze in next to him, starting to add and click. You’re right against him, legs brushing together, and damn if he wasn’t built like some action star, hard muscles against your firm thighs. You felt your pulse quicken a tad at the contact.

“You feeling warm? I can turn on my fan.” Nanami asks, looking at you, and you chew on your lip, remembering the embarrassing words you had said to Gojo the other night. Ugh.

“Could you?” Maybe it would help your redness. He leans across you, and you avert your eyes, to see Miwa sitting on Gojo’s desk, her legs dangling, Gojo in his seat, leaned back. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Better?” He asks, and you feel the little breeze hit your chest. You sigh, smiling at him.

“Much. Thank you. I’m under that air vent over there it must be a little colder.” You know it’s bs but you roll with it. Your eyes peer back to Gojo’s office and you see he is now scowling at you, completely ignoring the blue haired girl in a skirt on his damn desk.

“Is she taking over when you leave?” Kento asked quietly. You looked at him, shrugging a shoulder a bit before focusing back on his chart, tapping the keyboard with your numbers.

“He hasn’t told me yet, and I still am not sure I’m leaving. But he said she’d be doing little things, like coffee runs and errands.”

“That is actually weirdly thoughtful.” Nanami pursed his lips a bit. You nodded.

“It actually is. I am supposed to talk to him later so I guess I’ll figure out my plans then.”

“I really wouldn’t like you to leave.” Nanami’s hand was on your thigh for just a moment, before yanking it off as if realizing you two were in an office, clearing his throat and pulling on his collar.

You felt confused. How could you even talk to him when you’d just been kissing Gojo yesterday? And what was that with Gojo anyway… it’s not as if Gojo would be with you. He hadn’t had a consistent girlfriend since you’d known him, instead opting for a bunch of women at once. So why even entertain those thoughts. But also what the fuck were you feeling?

Was orgasm brain that intense?

“Shit.” Nanami sighed. You realized you were in your head, making him feel awkward. You took his hand under the desk, smiling softly.

“No no. Don’t. I would miss seeing you too.” You told him, and he exhaled a bit, smirking then, peering at you under his shades.

“Hot as a friend huh.”

“Oh god!” You buried your head in your hands, and he laughed at you softly. “You’re teasing me!”

“Maybe a little.” You nudged him with your elbow, grinning. “We could be friends outside of work. If we could stay awake long enough.”

You grinned at him. “Yeah I’d like that. Are you trying to convince me to stay with the promise of your charming company?”

He scoffed. “So charming.”

“You kind of are.”

“Is it working?”

“Hmm. It may be. Maybe I should go work for Suguru.” You said with a sigh, Nanami laughed.

“It would be world war three. The only one worse to go to would be Sukuna.” He gave a little shiver.

“Oh gosh. Imagine. Okay, there. Got it all fixed.” You showed Nanami the figures on his monitor, and he leaned over your shoulder to look at them.

“You’re a genius.” His breath tickled your ear a little. You flushed.

“No, not at all. Just a nerd.” You turn your chair, finding you two rather close, and lowering your gaze a bit to focus on his tie. “You sure have the most interesting ties I’ve ever seen. Maybe I should get you a funky one for Christmas.”

“An ugly christmas tie? Ugh.” You laughed, standing then, and scooching your chair back in its place.

“I’d get a cute one. With snowmen.”

“Disgusting.”

You shook your head with laughter, and he stood, then too, as you took your coffee and sipped it. “The Starbucks girl asked for your number from me.” You said, and he turned slightly pink on his cheeks.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah, I told her to ask you personally. She said she was too nervous. She was cute.” You gave him a little smile. “Well, tell me if you need anything else, kay?”

“Thanks again. Oh, hey… you busy tomorrow night?”

“I never have plans.” You roll your eyes with a sigh. He chuckled.

“I understand that. But me, Shoko, and Suguru are grabbing drinks. And a couple people from work. You wanna come too?”

“Sure, that actually sounds really nice.” You’d have once turned down going out because of work making you so tired, but you realized you had to start putting yourself first. “I’ll be there for sure.”

“Good. We will have a drink. Since I’m your hot friend.” He winked, and you grimaced, blushing as he laughed softly at you.

“You are.” You winked back, giggling and running off to your desk. It was fun, just thinking of actually going out. Relaxing with everyone. You just almost get to your desk when Miwa is walking out of Gojo’s office, all starry eyed.

“I’ll get right on these, Mr. Gojo.” She had a stack full of papers.

“Thank you, Miwa.” He smiled at her, and she waved to you before running off. You turned to go to your desk but he paused you, saying your name. You looked up at him, sipping your drink.

“Hmm?”

“My office.” Was all he said, and you rolled your eyes, following him in, hearing him shut the door with a click behind you, locking it. You frowned, turning around, getting snatched up by him as he flicked shut the blinds with one button, pressing you into the door with his hard body.

“What… What the fuck!?” You demanded, shoving at him. He put his arms on either side of your head, lowering to your level, lips a breath from yours. You could nearly taste the mint, licking your lips nervously, eyes looking up into his, furiously scowling.

“Having fun flirting with Kento, were you?” He demanded, gritting his teeth together. You bit out a laugh, brows lowering over your eyes.

“Why do you care? Were you having fun with the view under that little assistant’s skirt as she fucking stroked your ego?”

He scowled, reaching a hand down to your waist, yanking you against his hard body. You ignore how good it feels. “You think she interests me?”

“You’re interested in any pretty thing with two legs.” You roll your eyes, leaning back to get away from him, but he yanks you closer.

“I hired her to help you with stupid shit. So that you’ll just stay.” He voice was husky, and you sighed, lowering your lashes.

“I know and I’m really thankful. But don’t act like she wasn’t all over you and you didn’t like it. That’s just bullshit.”

“You’re jealous as fuck.” He smirked cruelly, tilting your chin up, making you meet his goddamn eyes.

“You’re jealous. Not me.” You hissed. He raised a brow.

“Oh? Wouldn’t mind if I ate her out on this desk here, hmm?” His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You steeled yourself.

“Nope. Why would it? I’m used to you being a whole man whore. It doesn’t affect me at all.”

Liar.

“You’re a liar.”

You shoved at him, then, hard, but he didn’t budge, like fucking steel. You felt your body vicerally reacting to his big hand on your waist, thumb digging in. “You’re the one all fucking pissy I helped Nanami with some damn figures. Pulling me in here like some psycho.”

“You want to fuck him, still, do you?” He demanded angrily. You narrowed your eyes.

“What do you care either way? We’re not together.”

Gojo froze, and his hand dug in painfully, to where you winced, but your nipples hardened under your blouse. “I’m not fucking the new girl. You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“I’m very smart, thank you. Okay do you want a cookie, Satoru? A gold star? That you don’t fuck the little eighteen year old who wants your dick? I don’t even fucking care.”

He laughed, dark, digging his hand until it was in your hair, yanking it. “You act like you weren’t coming on my fingers yesterday.” You overheated, again, chest heaving, your breath coming out in little pants. His eyes went down your chest. “I can see you want me, now, even. Is my nun growing adventurous?”

“No the hell I’m not. I am… not… don’t want…”

“Can’t even finish your lie.” He slid a hand up to your breast, cupping it over your thin white blouse, moaning softly. “Not even wearing a bra are you? Is it because you wanted this?”

“Nope. I forgot.” You were lying to yourself. He plucked a nipple over the thin fabric, making you gasp.

“I’ve never seen you here not in some bra that makes these look smaller. As if that works. I could tell how big they were.” He pinched your nipple hard, and you cry out softly, before slamming a hand on your mouth. It was too late. He had the devious glint in his damn blue eyes.

“I hate you.” You bit out, and his hand went under your blouse, hot and hard, squeezing the softness of your breast, making you clench your teeth so that you didn’t moan again. He was grinning at you.

“Oh sweetheart, holding it in?” He pinched your nipple hard, twisting it just a bit, watching you falter, your knees wobble. He enjoyed it, like a predator with his goddamn pray, eyes drinking in your flushed face, your parted lips.

“Innapropriate workplace actions. I’m telling HR.” You start chuckling then, and Gojo did too, throwing his head back.

“I literally am HR.” He kissed you, and you bit his lower lip, trying to hurt him, but instead he moaned.

“You’re shit at HR, Satoru.” He bit your lower lip now, licking it, as if it was a little apology. You sighed. It felt good. “Mmm. Stop.”

“Why?” His whisper was alluring, it shot your brain down, and spoke directly to your pussy. Fucking Gojo.

“Because we’re at work, dick! Also you’re acting jealous when I’m sure you’ll be fucking the new girl.”

“You’re stupid as shit.” You scowled, and went to slap him. He snatched your wrist, slamming it into the door, trapping you. “I want you, how fucking clear should I make this?”

“I won’t be one of your-”

“I. Want. You.” He shook you as he spoke. You blinked, shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t?”

“You just want to have fun, play some game with me.”

“I don’t play games.”

“Sure the fuck do.”

“Let’s play this game then. The quiet game.” You yelp as he picks you up with ease, carrying you to his big mahogany desk, sitting your ass on it.

“The what?” You wriggled, and he scooched up your skirt, eyeing you, thin brow raised. “What are you…”

“Shh.” He put a finger to your lips. “You think I wanna play games when all I wanna do is fucking taste you.”

“Oh…” You felt yourself dripping, and he yanked down your pink panties, already damp, the cool air smacking your cunt. “I… why…”

“Because you taste good.” He whispered, sitting in his office chair as you were spread apart for him, eyes raking you in intimately. He kissed your thigh, nipping, then biting hard. You start to cry out and he grins. “Ah ah. Quiet game. Keep that pretty mouth shut, baby girl.”

“Gojo… we can’t! I…” You trembled when he barely brushed his thumb against your clit, swirling in your desire.

“Already so wet and all we did was kiss.” He teased you, blowing gently on your already sensitive clit, making you cry out, jerking your whole body. “Stop lying. Tell me the truth.”

“What truth? Unh!” Pleasure shot through your body, straight up through your tummy, making you ache when he placed a kiss right above where your swollen clit was, torturing you. “Satoru…”

“Tell me you want me to. That you need me to.” He murmured, and you hated him more. He took all your defenses away.

“I won’t.” You tried to close your legs, but he pushed them open,

“You’re so fucking stubborn. Admit you want it.” He flicked his tongue on your clit then, and you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, eyes rolling back in pleasure you had never felt before. “Say it, fucking brat.”

“No.” He yanked away, and you cried out, then he smacked your pussy, enough to sting, and you hated that you actually liked it. You slid up on your elbows, and before you knew it he had your shirt wide open, your breasts spilled out, and he leaned over you in his black suit, gorgeous as fuck.

“You want me to make you cum, don’t you?” His silken words did things. You couldn’t lie when his face was against yours, his forehead touching yours.

“Yes.” It was weak, pathetic, you were shivering. His lips brushed yours, and you felt things, more than physical. When he was breathing heavily, his eyes lidded, lips parted, affected by you too. You reached your hands up to the lapels of his jacket, lifting your hips up. “Do you want me, though?”

He let out a breathy laugh, as you ran your hand down his shirt, feeling his hard chest. “You think I don’t want you, fucking brat? What, you think I wanted that little Miwa girl?”

You nod, feeling emotions you shouldn't be blinking back stupid tears. “Why wouldn’t you? You are Gojo Satoru. You can have whoever you want.”

“I want you. Silly girl.” He kissed down your breasts, to your nipples, flicking a tongue on them and then sucking. Your hands went into his silky hair. “Tell me what you want. Words, baby girl.”

“I want… I want you to…” You were stammering, blushing. He looked up at you, smiling.

“You’re so cute. I’ll make it easier.” He returned to between your thighs, kissing them softly. “Say you want to come on my face.”

“That’s a lot!” You covered your face, so nervous, so shy out of nowhere. He could see you wide open. He pulled your hands down.

“Your pussy is so pretty.” He purred. “Nervous?”

“I just haven’t… I want to…”

“Say it.” He kissed you there again, breath hot against where you were already dripping wet.

“I want to come on your fucking face.” You couldn’t believe the words out of your mouth, what this man did to you. “Please, make me.”

“As the lady commands.” He said softly, then his head dipped, and the sight of his white hair between your thighs was enough to make you melt, but his tongue sliding up your slit… 

“Jesusfucking shit ahh!” He laughed against you, peeking up.

“Quiet game.” He winked, and you nodded, biting your knuckles as he did the motion once more, your pussy pulsed around nothing, aching. You couldn’t believe you were here, wide open, on your boss’s desk. And you begged for it.

“Mmm.” You moaned into your hand when his fingers spread your plump lips apart, tongue sliding in deliciously, like nothing you could describe, as his finger found the hood of your clit, pulling up for his tongue to slide back and flick. You jerked, and he held your hip down, tilting his head and starting to flick faster and faster.

You started panting, breath heaving, hand balled into a fist as your cries muffled into it. The only noise in the office was Gojo slurping up your wetness and your little sighs of pleasure, as he literally drank you in. He slid a finger in you, looking up at you, and you see his chin is glistening with your desire.

“Fuck.” He whispered, and you felt yourself fall apart, pulsing around his finger. He groaned and flicked his tongue as his finger massaged your g spot, and it was impossible not to make noise. You shoved both hands on your face, crying out, shaking. Everything went dark then fuzzy, and you became so dripping wet his finger slid with ease.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Your hips twitched against him, as he licked you through your orgasm, then kept licking after, when you were so sensitive you couldn't handle it. “Satoru… unh… so good I-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You freak out, trying to close your legs, but he grins like some Demon, his whole face wet at this point, making you blush in embarrassment. He licks his lips, continuing crooking that finger deep in you.

“Yes?” He asks calmly, calmly, hitting a spot that made you ache, shoving his hand on your mouth now. His eyes drank in your face.

“Mr. Gojo I have that done… I wanted to talk to you. Are you busy?” Miwa's voice came from the other side. Gojo was studying your expressions as his hand pressed hard, the other now fucking you with two fingers. You moaned against his hand, body rolling in overstimulation.

“I am a little busy right now. Is it important?” He asks so calmly. He smirks at you, not stopping his fingers from fucking you. Your eyes roll back, back arching, clinging to his wrist like some fucking lifeline.

“Oh no, I actually heard there's a work get together Friday. Can I come?” He laughed that laugh of his, looking right into your eyes.

“You can come.” As he said it he pushed in deep, and you started pulsing again, falling apart when his palm put pressure on your clit. You wanted to fucking scream.

“Thank you!” She ran off and Gojo eased his fingers out, shoving them in your mouth.

“Suck them off.” He ordered, and you did, so much of your wetness, and your pussy ached, empty, oversensitive, the air hurting your puffy aching lips. “You admit you're jealous. Now. I saw it on that face.”

“I can't be.” You finally whispered as he eased his hand off your mouth.

“You like to lie to me. Its annoying.” He pulled you down on wobbly legs, bending you over his desk. He slapped the fuck out of your bare ass.

“Dick! That hurts!” You hiss, it was no sexy little slap, he had left a whelp. It stung and burned and brought tears to your eyes.

“Admit it.” He bent over you, whispering in your ear, finger caressing your slit. “You want me to yourself. Already. Greedy little bitch.”

“Do… Not. Am not. Ow!” He smacked you so hard you jerked forward.

“You like it.” He played with your cunt. “She's stupid fucking wet.”

“Yes I like it ugh!” You tensed waiting for another smack, but instead he kissed your neck. So sweet. A walking contradiction.

“Good girl. Now. You're jealous. Say it.”

“Why? Why do this.”

“I want you to admit it.” He caressed your backside, thumb brushing your sickness.

“I shouldn't be.”

He paused, then sighed, kissing your bare shoulder. “Neither should I.”

You froze, turning your head, and your eyes met. Had he said that? Admitted that… was he… were you…

“Yeah. I am.” You sighed, hating what he made you admit. He wasn't grinning though. He kissed you, taking your breath away, hands finding your breasts.

“You're beautiful.” He whispered, and you felt it. You lost yourself in the kiss. You wanted more, arching your hips up, ass against his rock hard length pressing against his dress pants. He moaned, grip tightening.

“Fuck me.” You watched his jaw drop. “Please, Satoru. Please fuck me.”

Gojo lost it, turning you around, kissing you wildly, tongues dancing, saliva dripping between you. You drank each other's moans as he pressed hard against you, and you grinded on him, throwing your head back.

“I want you to come around my cock, tight and pulsing. I want to fucking push my come inside you. Fill you the fuck up.” He was pressing so hard you wanted to come again from just friction. 

“Mnh. Do it. I can take it.” He laughed a bit, easing from you, pecking kisses on your neck.

“Am I old fashioned? I kind of want my first time with you in my bed.” You felt like an idiot, burying your face in his chest. “Hey…”

“I'm such a hoe, ‘fuck me here on your desk’. And you are like let's wait. I think the orgasm brain is dangerous.”

He laughed softly, pulling your face up to look at him. “I'd fuck a normal woman right here and be done. I just think I'd like to spend my time with you. A lot of time.” His jaw tensed. “Fuck. Maybe my brain is fried from your orgasms.”

You started laughing, hands trembling as you attempted to button your shirt. “Shit.”

“Let me.” His calm hands made quick work of adjusting your clothes. He found your panties and slid them up you. “I want you. Do you see now.” You nod shyly. “Good. Now go think of my tongue on you while you flirt with fucking Nanami.”

“Ugh! Stupid.” You shook your head and he grinned. His pretty fucking eyes bore into you. He could see through you. “I was just talking to him.”

“And so was I with Miwa.” He helped adjust your hair.

“This is… it feels good.” You leaned back as he brushed out your hair with his fingers. He kissed you once more. 

“Get back to work now, assistant. I need you to get on that presentation.” He tapped your nose. You rolled your eyes.

“Yes Mr. Gojo.” You batted your eyelashes. He snorted.

“Wish I liked nice girls and not this evil fucking bitch.” He smacked you again, over your skirt. You smirked at that.

“Wish I liked a nice guy and not a demon.”

“Demon with an amazing tongue.” He stuck it out and you bit your lip, making him chuckle darkly.

“It is, but you're still a dick.”

“And you're a bitch. A bitch who tastes really good.” Your whole body was jello. You'd never felt that fucking good.

And now you have to work.

What the fuck happened…

Did you just admit you liked him? Begged him to fuck you on his desk?

That tongue had done things...

Yep you were screwed.

Chapter 6

Chapter on A03:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141034786

[uheartlynn]

𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢

modern au! ᥫ᭡.

fluff and quiet bakugo

mha 1-A big three going to a cafe almost every day to see there favorite barista:>

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

bakugo katsuki,, cute college boy from ua !

he’s a regular, always ordering chai tea lattes with extra cinnamon on top.

you see him almost every day, (besides on ur days off ofc) you sometimes even wonder if he knows ur schedule..

you think he’s cute! he’s not rlly chatty tho. but sometimes you can catch him staring at you while asking him if he wants any dairy substitutions or when your working on his drink hehe

he’s so generous! he leaves the cute girl serving him coffee (you) a 25% tip.

“that’d be 4.23 today sir, thank you!” you say as you waved off your last customer. humming to the busy streets of tokyo, you hear the door bell ring. “welcome!” you yell, looking down at your notebook.

you hear rushed foot steps come towards you, looking up the customer, you see the same blonde boy with dark red eyes. “oh welcome in, katsuki was it?” you say smiling.

‘you remember his name?’ he thought. you see the tips of his ears turn red. “yeah. hi. could i get my regular?” he says. “of course, a 12oz i presume?” you smile tapping on the ipad register.

for some reason, his heart flutters. he feels giddy when you memorize what he wants. “mhm, yeah and could i get some cold foam on top, and cinnamon too. please.” he says. you nod. he just thinks your so cute, nodding at him like that. you notice him brush your hand against yours while handing you money; you fluster, but don’t mention anything though.

“thank you katsuki, tip?” (haha, the required question at work ,:<) he’s so kind. he gave you 25% and even a extra five dollars in cash! “aw, thank you so much! you’re so kind to me.” before he says anything, you stroll off to get started on his drink. he walks away too and sits down, pulling out a laptop and two small notebooks. he watches you, moving swiftly around making his drink. ‘should i ask her? it’s empty.. damn, why am i nervous? she’ll probably say yes. not like im some loser like deku..’

“katsuki! a chai latte for katsuki!” you yell. why do you have to be so cute? even when your just calling out for him to get his latte! he gets up and grabs it from you, but he stays there for a second staring right at you. you get nervous.. did i mess up his drink? wait he didn’t even tried it yet. “m, is something the matter sir?” he looks up at you.

“date. with me. go on a date with me.” he says looking anywhere but you with a sweet (but barely noticeable) blush on his face. he puts a piece of paper with his number on it in your hand, and walks away.

izuku midoriya, the sweetie who you spend breaks w/ <3

he’s also a regular! he’s always there waiting for your lunch break to spend time with u

you guys are school mates, he makes official “coffee (friend) dates” with you to support his delulu of actually dating you ‘^^

he has green hair, so he gets a sweet matcha with whipped cream! and he gets a bagel sandwich for some extra nutrition.

you guys actually do anatomy together for school! that’s how you met, so cute! he’s a double major. anatomy and criminology, duh. (hehe, since he writes abt quirks and he’s a hero:3)

“izuku, thanks so much for coming again! i really needed help with tonight’s project.” you say, sitting yourself down next to him with a cup of mocha in your hands. he smiles sweetly at you, adoration in his eyes.

“haha, y/n i always come.” he chuckles, making you flustered. you open your drawing book he hands to you, a little structure of a puppy and it’s labeled features on it. he opens his book too, sipping his matcha. he starts to ramble and rumble about class.

“and then, Iida told Todoroki to “step up his game”, they were both actually confused on what he said- oh!” he feels your head on his shoulder, his face heats up. your not even asleep! what does he do?!

you chuckle, “haha, sorry izu if i caught you off guard.. it’s just i’m kinda cold. and your really warm!” you say, averting your glance away from him.

“o-oh, uh it’s ok y/n! i don’t mind actually..” he’s actually super duper happy on the inside! he wants to kiss you right then and there, but he’s worried that’s gonna jump right over your boundaries + he’s not that bold enough to do that with a girl yet! not just any girl, you!

“mm. izuku, your so sweet. i’m so happy your my best friend. but i’ve been kinda thinking..” you say, he perks up. “hm?”

“do you wanna be my boyfriend?”

todoroki shoto, the mysterious rich boy on the block !

that cool looking boy you always see on the same subway you take, with earbuds in reading a book

you also always see him at your small little cafe! you can’t help but have a crush on him

ok maybe a big crush on him

he’s so mature too! he doesn’t order a mocha frappuccino like others, (which i love btw) but he orders a medium iced black coffee!

he’s also very generous with tips and once he even asked for your name! he’s very straight forward

“hi, welcome in.” you tell him. he gives you a small smile, your chest tightens. ‘dang he’s so cute, i wish i could just try to have the courage to talk to him on break’ :< “excuse me, are you ok? your face is red.” he says. you gasp quietly, ‘was i blushing?!’ “oh no no, i’m ok! what should you like?” you say brushing it off.

“oh alright. i’ll have a iced black coffee please.” he tells you. you nod, “ok! any sweet cream, milk, water, or cold foam you’d like? we have a sale on all additions on coffee.” you say sweetly. he blinks, “no thank you.” he says, already putting cash in the jar that says ‘tips for your kind barista!’

“oh thank you so much! hey, i always see you on the train. not trying to be weird! haha, just a coincidence.” ‘why did i say that.’

“oh, i sometimes see you as well.” he smiles. ‘huh, so she notices me. she’s different, and she’s kind. not to mention, pretty as well.’ (everyone notices you shoto!) “um excuse me,” he says, catching you by surprise

“yes?” you hum. “i was wondering if you’d like to spend some time with me. i would like to get to know you better.” he says, pointing at a empty table.

‘woah, he’s bold! wait is he asking me out, no he’s probably asking in like a “let’s be friends” sort of way.’ “um sure! haha actually it’s just in time for my break. my coworker mina will take care of your drink!” you smile. usually, you would say no if someone asked for your number or anything, but since he’s so polite and a school student (well you saw him walking out of ua university once) you could trust him! (actually don’t do this kids lol!)

you sit down together, it’s a little awkward..

“i was actually wondering, would you like to know me better? i find you delightful to be around with.. if it’s alright with you, of course.” he smiles.

my first fic! i hope you all enjoyed it | sorry if izuku and shotos are shorter than katsuki’s, i kinda got writers block there | more to come, not only for mha either! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

ᡣ𐭩

fandoms i’m in :

haikyuu

pjsk colorful stage

naruto

genshin impact

gilmore girls

diary of a wimpy kid (rodrick)

harry potter

saiki k

[ayatsujis-hotcocoa]

˗ˏˋ Request Information !! ´ˎ˗

WHAT I'LL DO :

Fluff Ships (including rarepairs and selfcest) Angst AFAB/AMAB/GN reader Age regression Smut (specifics below) Praise Degradation Dubcon Cnc Size kink Age gap (within reason) Overstim Vanilla/comfort sex Breeding Aphrodisiacs Somnophilia Humiliation Etc.

WHAT I WON'T DO :

Necrophillia Noncon Physical abuse Vomit Piss Scat DDLG (I refuse to sexualize age regression) Vore Feet Babytrapping Detailed death Beastiality NSFW of canon minors

Etc.

OTHER INFO :

I mainly write about AFAB readers and character x reader things, but I am open to writing about ships as long as they are legal. Any and all legal ships are allowed here: like Fyozai (Fyodor x Dazai), Siglai (Sigma x Nikolai), Nikozai (Nikolai x Dazai), and more! Those are just some examples of rarepairs I may write about.

I mainly write headcanons, though in the future I may try drabbles if people request that. Requests are currently open, and the status will be put in my bio at all times. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

[vifilms]

#EVENT! — 𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐘'𝐒 𝟑𝐊 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

⁰⁰¹ ︴here we are gays!

✶ this genuinely feels really crazy. it really blows my mind i have 3k people following me and my little blog. i've been writing for many years and finally started to post over the past year and the feedback has been overwhelming sometimes, but i cherish every single person who has ever had some kind words to share over my work. it’s really helped me process creativity and grow as a writer being in this space and i truly have so much gratitude for it. i'm so immensely blessed for all the friends i've made along the way, people who have impacted my life in ways i can't even explain, i love each and every one of you. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. i love y’all ♡

⁰⁰² ︴character list!

✶ tlou: abby anderson.

✶ arcane: violet, caitlyn, sevika.

schedule: jan 26th to feb 2nd.

✦ cum capuccino

fmk, would you rather, top 5, etc. common tumblr games, ask me about my wips, favorite movies, tv shows, just come and chat!

✦ thats that me, espresso

send me a character + a concept: (ex. violet + picnic date) and i’ll write a small blurb/drabble for it. optional, you can add any prompts front these lists below you’d like me to add!

option one, option two, option three.

✦ i love you, a latte

send me a character concept + a concept (ex. cowgirl!abby + farmers’ daughter) and i’ll make a moodboard for it.

✦ moots mocha

for my mootie patooties, send me [☕️] and i’ll make a special playlist just for you.

some of my mooties (no pressure tags): @sinstear @hypnagogics @ennabear @shouyuus @stars-for-circe @astralnymphh @maggiesglock @amourrs @flowrmoth

[evidenceof]

i have just said something ridiculous to you

Joe Toye has a nice face, George thinks. Strong nose, strong brows, and a scowl that George realized he liked to earn. Miles deep into 2nd Battalion's march to Atlanta, George Luz hears an Irish song from across their frozen campground.

happiest holidays, @blood-mocha-latte, my hbo war 2025 secret santa baby!! ♡ crossing my fingers and hoping i did their voices/headspaces justice. this present is brought to you by equal parts mary oliver's 'i have just said,' that you love, and toye's atlanta march predicament™. i very humbly give to you my very first luztoye fic.

I have just said something ridiculous to you and in response, your glorious laughter. - 'I Have Just Said' by Mary Oliver

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

December 1, 1942 | 2330 hours Campgrounds, 38 miles from Fort Benning

The butter tastes like nothing on his frozen tongue. George winces at the thin oily film it leaves behind in his mouth after he swallows. Too fucking cold, everything was too fucking cold. A ragged chuckle saws its way through his throat while he watches Perco fight a losing battle against his hard slice of bread. Eventually, he rips it in half, elbow colliding with the tent wall and almost costing them their flimsy shelter. A hundred and fifteen miles and they had to survive off of stale bread and pats of butter.

“The way we live you’d think we’re already at the front of the fucking lines.” Perco’s voice was muffled under a thick scarf. “I don’t know what’s worse. This or shit on a shingle.”

“Come on, we got it made.” George lights a cigarette, and flicks off his lighter in an attempt to sweep away any talk of war. “Sightseeing the backcountry, free food, free clothes. These fuckin’ boots? Babies are the best in General Patton's Third Army, so I’ve heard.” His boot lands back on the cold ground with a pathetic thump from where he lifted it. 

“Aw, shut up, Luz.” Perco shoves him backwards, hard, half a slice of bread still in his hand, but with a grin already plastered on his face.

Just barely missing the tent wall, George regains his balance. “All right, all right. Jeez,” he laughs. He presses his hand on Perco’s head to push himself up, earning him a scowl. “Gonna go find a fire before this thing collapses on us.”

The flap of the tent all but snaps in half when he throws it open. Ice crackles down the drab green canvas like peanut brittle. Outside, cold air smacks against George’s face as he takes in the columns of tents around him that stand frosted and gleaming in the moonlight. The temperature had dropped earlier in the afternoon, but tomorrow promised worse terrain because, as far as George was concerned, God had abandoned 2nd Battalion specifically. Why else would they be the only ones walking all the way to fucking Atlanta? There's thirty eight more miles and not nearly enough bad Sobel impressions in George’s back pocket to last them that far.

With a single drag, he polishes off the remainder of his cigarette. Squinting, he spots Lip and Guarnere in the middle of what looks like an attempt at walking without having to bend their knees. Their frosty puffs of breath mirror the smoke he exhales. He sees Lip’s hand raise to greet him at the same time a bad tune cuts across the field, louder than the muffled grousing from inside the pup tents. Only George whips his head towards the direction of the sound.

“Luz, what’re you up to?” Lip’s voice is firm. George doesn’t see, but he hears the smile in it.

“Better not be doin’ anything fuckin’ stupid. I’m goddamn tired of that pansy chicken-shit officer breathing down my neck all fuckin’ day,” spits Guarnere, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. “Sobel, I mean. Winters ain’t no chicken-shit at least.”

George doesn't expect the polite chuckle from Lip who's quick to follow it up with a stern, “Bill.” At that, Guarnere raises an eyebrow like a demanding child, a look that George knows he never let his ma see. “But he’s right, keep your head outta trouble, Luz. Got enough to deal with while Toye’s relegated to K.P,” continues Lip with a grimace.

George tips his head in the direction of the broken Irish song still flitting in the air. “That him?” The scowl on Guarnere’s face is confirmation enough. “What’d he do?”

“Go ask him if you’re so fuckin’ curious,” Guarnere sneers. “Hey, I’m serious Luz. Give Sobel an excuse to take away passes and I’ll shove a trench knife up your ass.”

George knuckles his forehead to mock-salute Guarnere and gives Lip a wink. “I’ll behave for you, Bill,” he sing-songs. It only takes him a second to quash his finished cigarette under his boot before his feet start moving towards the sound almost involuntarily. He finds Toye hunched over a fire, chin resting on his legs that are folded in front of him. Even tucked into himself, there was something intimidating about his angles. It’s those goddamn broad shoulders of his, wide like no one’s business. Certainly not George’s. He doesn’t recognize the words Joe is singing but the tune’s familiar enough. Once or twice, he found himself straining to hear it in the Toccoa showers. It almost feels like a shame to put an end to it. Almost.

“Thought someone was dying. Your bad singing why they’re making you do this?” chides George, nudging Toye with his boot before he takes a seat on the ground. 

Toye clenches his jaw in acknowledgment, any lingering mirth vanishing from his face. “Luz,” says Toye, already exasperated. George watches him jab the weak fire with a stick. The orange glow casts shadows on his irritated face. Nothing quite like pissing off Joe Toye. He has a nice face, George thinks. Strong nose, strong brows, a scowl that George realized he liked to earn. Even with the darkness under his eyes, Toye looks sturdy.

“Aw, c’mon Toye. Not happy to see me?” His teeth chatter and Toye’s lip twitches into the beginnings of a smile. “Lighten up will ya?”

A gust of wind makes them both adjust their scarves. From under his own, Toye shakes his head before glaring at the stick in his hand. George can see him weighing out the pros and cons of throwing it into the pit. “I did. Look where that got me,” says Toye, eventually.

“Hey, least you’re warm right?” George smiles at him while dislodging a clump of dirt from the sole of his boot to throw in Toye’s direction. When it hits the side of his leg, Toye barely flinches. So it was like that, huh? George digs his heel into the hardened ground, dragging himself closer to Joe. “So what’d you do? You can trust me. Who the fuck am I gonna tell?”

Toye continues staring at the flames like they’d done something to offend him. When he doesn’t answer, George inches forward, tracking cold moisture and mud on his trousers. For a moment he’s convinced Toye isn’t paying attention, but George sees how his eye twitches in time with the sound of his ODs scritching against the ground.

“Toye. Toye. Toye. Joe Toye. C’mon, buddy. Tell good ol’ George,” he says, slightly out of breath as he continues to drag himself closer. 

Bright dots of orange float up into the inky blue night when Toye jostles the firewood with his stick. “Not sure you wanna know, Luz,” he says gravely. “What, you need new source material or something? Running out of punchlines?”

“Me? Nah. Been practicing my Strayer,” says George, grinning. He’s not sure if he imagines the little nod from Toye. “When I get that pitch perfect, it'll last us ’til we ship out at least. You’ll fuckin’ see.” There’s caked mud on the ass of his ODs, he feels it. But now Toye was in perfect prodding distance and that made the journey worth it. With his fist, George nudges him once, twice, but he still looks like a goddamn statue staring at the fire, unmoving. “C’mon Toye. What’d you do?”

Nothing prepares him for how quickly Toye swivels his body towards his. He’s so close that George feels his breath on his cheek when Toye says, “You really wanna know? How about you ask me nice, Luz? Throw in a little favor?”

“Like what…?” says George, schooling his face into seriousness. Were Toye’s lashes always this long? George swears he feels the phantom brush of them against his goddamn forehead. He isn’t proud of the way it makes him miss a beat or causes that slight tremble in his voice. Nothing he couldn’t chalk up to the cold, he thinks. And he fucking would, if anyone asks.

“Like take over with these fires for me, you fuckin’ idiot,” growls Toye in his usual low gravelly voice. The white of his teeth catches the corner of George’s eye, then the pink of his lower lip. Damn. It feels almost too late when Toye thwacks the long stick against George’s chest and he nearly falls backwards. “My arm’s falling asleep.”

Clearing his throat to pull himself together is a decision George regrets immediately. It’s raw and cold like the rest of him. But he can deal with the shards of glass lodged into his windpipe better than the fucking knots that just erupted in his stomach. What was with that? He swipes the stick and turns to face the fire so that Joe is just a smudge in his periphery. From a few feet away, he hears Lieb and Alley laughing mercilessly. The thought of them witnessing all that makes his face burn, but he reminds himself everyone’s huddled in their own pup tents.

Toye's voice, resigned now, floats from beside George suddenly. It’s soft from fatigue. “Kid wanted to know what it felt like,” he says but doesn't continue. 

“What what felt like?” George pokes the fire. There’s a hiss and crackle of wood before Toye replies.

“What it’s like to pick up a skirt,” mumbles Toye, sounding embarrassed, forgiving maybe. “Says he gets nervous easy. He’s a buddy of mine from Dog Company, knew him from Pennsylvania, worked the coal mines together. He’s… you know? All stiff-like. Kinda like—”

“Like Winters?” George answers. “The fuck is wrong with you people from Pennsylvania. You born with a complimentary stick up your ass or what?” George wonders if that was too much, but he hears a huff from beside him—a sound that, from his limited knowledge, is the closest thing Toye gets to laughing. There’s a giddiness in his chest that tells him he’s been wanting to hear that for a while.

“Yeah. Yeah, like Lieutenant Winters,” replies Toye, less grave now. George turns to find him smiling down at the ground almost sleepily. It triggers a fresh set of knots right below George’s belly. It makes sense that the guy would ask Toye, George decides. With a face like that, eyes like that, he could bring home just about anyone he wanted. “Tells me he gets jittery, that friend of mine. Loses his fucking words. Needs practice. Needs advice,” says Toye. 

“Just need a face like yours.” It tumbles out of George’s mouth automatically. God, he wanted to shove one of the burning logs down his throat. But if Toye heard, he didn’t show it. Recovering, George continues, “What’d you tell him?”

Calm as anything, Toye lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I didn’t. Gave him a little practical exercise and pushed the guy against a wall,” he says with an even voice. From where he’s turned, the fire illuminates only a portion of his face. Even from a partial view, George could tell he wasn’t joking. Unsurprising; Toye rarely did. “Evans saw.”

“So he served you K.P. duty for jostling a guy? Sounds about right.” George laughs, imagining Evans’ prissy frown. “Your broads usually slam you against walls?”

As an answer, Toye smiles, all teeth, and George stops laughing. 

“It was nothing serious. Wanted to see how well he could come up with one of those lines of his in that position. Said he’s been practicing,” insists Toye. A tiny smirk tugs at the corner of his lip at the sudden shift in George’s face. “I was gentle though, but I think that was the problem. I, uh… I think he liked it.”

There was something about the image George couldn’t quite put together in his mind. He frowns. I think he liked it. 

“You shoulda seen Evans’ face. Kinda looks like yours right now actually, but less red,” Toye grins and George fights the urge to hide his head under his scarf. “Ripped my friend away from me and doled out the punishment. But really, the fucking kicker was him telling me to go see the chaplain. Fucking self-righteous asshole.”

“The chaplain? Since when the fuck do you need to—” Suddenly, it clicks in his mind, and he imagines the scene Evans must have walked into that night. Toye resting a hand against the wall beside the private’s face, the incline of his broad shoulders pointing inward, caging him. Gentle . Those big eyes and lashes too fucking close: Toye looking like the very picture of ease. Only in his head, George erases the face of the nameless PFC from Dog Company and replaces it with his own. Toye’s angles leaning towards him, lips inches away from his face, the feeling of his gravelly voice trailing from the tip of George’s nose all the way down under his shirt. He chokes a bit when he says, disbelieving, “No. Fuck, Toye. Nah, that ain’t right. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” says Toye tightly and looks up to glare at him. George can’t quite meet his eyes. “I was lightening up, remember?”

This close to the fire, George’s hands still feel like ice. “You’re insane, Joe. Fucking insane,” he says, trying to shake off the thought of Toye being close, peering up at a guy through his lashes like a dame. Suddenly, George’s trousers feel tight and his head was spinning in all possible directions.

“Didn’t hurt him. Was only trying to help. I was gentle, like I said,” Toye says lightly, voice already edged with sleep and without a trace of guilt. “Want a demonstration, Luz?”

“What, so you can get caught again? You plan on being K.P. until we’re shipped out?” George hears the higher register in his voice, and feels the way his heart rams against his sternum. He can’t look at Toye so he pokes the fire instead. A hot splinter flies onto his hand and he lets it sting, steering his full attention to the tiny patch of burning flesh.

Toye’s voice is thick with the lack of sleep, but more importantly is suddenly right behind George’s ear, brushing against the tiny hairs he didn’t know existed there. “I won’t tell if you don’t. I can keep a secret,” whispers Toye. George almost moans, but catches himself. It comes out a fumbling huff instead. The tightness of his trousers stop him from moving away.

“Well,” George tries to say. His zipper brushes against his skivvies and he almost jumps. If not for the jacket, the tented crotch area of his trousers would be on full display. Christ, he hopes Toye’s sleep-deprived enough to forget all this by the end of the march. “I can’t.” 

Toye laughs, fully now. George feels it on his nape, the hahas hitting his skin like long-burning coals. God, it felt good. 

“I’ll try it on you one day, Luz,” says Toye. George isn’t sure if he imagines Toye’s palm resting on his hip. It's too much and he feels like passing out. All the blood from his brain seems pool to right down into his crotch. It was getting harder to think, let alone respond. 

“You’re funny,” manages George eventually. Toye’s breath smells like Juicy Fruit, sweet.

“Yeah? I like surprising people like that,” says Toye, like a purr. When he moves away, Toye keeps the smile fixed on his face. The missing pressure of his hand leaves a cold mark on George’s side. So that was real. The affirmation only intensifies the heat below his stomach.

“You make a habit of shoving enlisted men against walls?” breathes George. It feels too good to keep this line of conversation going, everything in his body says so. But George couldn’t trust himself or his faculties. He was still thinking of Juicy Fruit in his mouth.

“Among other things.” Toye smirks lazily at him, and tilts his head up at the sky. George tells himself it’s the fatigue and the proximity to smoke that makes every word Toye says sound flirtatious. This fucking march had everyone acting strange, especially him.

“You are insane,” he says again, voice trembling. No way in hell was this guy a fairy. Didn’t fucking look like one anyway, all broad shouldered and angular. Nothing about him swished: not his fucking voice, or his fucking hips. Shit just don’t add up like that. But neither did the tightness in his OD trousers that didn't feel like it would disappear fast enough.

“A compliment coming from you, George.” Toye buries his face in his palms. “Fuck, I’m tired,” he says, the words drawn out of him like an exhale.

George watches his body sway slightly, tipping almost imperceptibly in and out of consciousness. “You sleep at all Joe?” Toye yawns as an answer; it shudders through him. He was just tired and spread thin, George thinks, they all were. And that got you acting different, that got you acting abnormal.

“No. But Evans still has it out for me. He’s lurking somewhere,” Toye says, not looking up from where George thinks he’s already fallen half asleep. The sharp angles of Toye’s shoulders droop, sagging under the weight of a second day without sleep. George lights another cigarette, finally, to keep his hands from doing something really fucking stupid like throwing a blanket over Toye and shoving his head onto his lap. Shit that guy from Dog Company can’t do, he thinks, feeling an odd barb of possessiveness while looking at Toye’s drooping head.

“Hey, I got this, all right?” argues George, gesturing at the growing fire.

“Shut up, Luz. I’m not looking for handouts.” But Toye’s voice dips in volume, belying the stubbornness in it.

“C’mon, Joe. You can’t be the only one handing out favors from the goodness of your heart,” George offers something like understanding. From his palms, Toye glances up at him, questioning. He’d look almost offended if he didn’t look so soft.

“Twenty minutes. Sleep. We got thirty-eight miles left in the morning and you look like shit,” continues George. Toye’s gaze doesn’t move away from him. So he stares back, feeling a little selfish, tracing Toye’s dark lashes and pink lips with his eyes. He wonders if they’ll ever get to sit this close again. “I’m saying if Evans comes around, I’ll charm him for ya.”

“Yeah?” says Toye, still looking at George, a small smile hooked on his lips. The sounds of the camp feel like they’ve all but disappeared. “Yeah. You’re good at that.”

His cigarette burns down to the filter but George continues to suck on it, unable to fish it out with his shaking hands that he’s hidden in his jacket pockets. They’re warm now, so it couldn’t have been the cold causing the trembling. He can still feel Toye’s laugh ricocheting on his neck.

Toye breaks their little staring contest and faces the fire. “Fine, twenty minutes.” 

“Sure buddy.” George watches Toye’s chin droop down onto his chest and his eyes flutter shut, lashes twitching. He’s asleep immediately. When he’s sure Toye was out cold, George fishes out a blanket from his pack and drapes the whole thing across Toye’s shoulders with a gentleness he didn’t know he had. “Take as long as you like.”

[miguelhugger2099]

Day One

It's February! I'll try to make a small drabble each day until the 14th so please enjoy! (─‿‿─)♡ Miguel x Reader, Fluffy, Drabble

Miguel was the kind of guy people strayed from or that he made them stray from him. Not on purpose of course. He doesn’t mean to come off stone cold and mean when someone speaks to him, he’s just a little awkward. He’s not stupid either. He knows he takes care of himself, going to the gym, shaving, doing skincare and taking really good care of his hair to appear attractive and healthy. It’s his personality that…needs work. Or at least that’s what others tell him. Miguel would often be stopped in the middle of shopping, a pretty lady asking him questions out of the blue, usually starting off with queries about what he’s buying. He’d respond as politely as possible but when the questions became more invasive and she became more touchy, now that’s when the problem starts. His awkward social skills harden into a more guarded persona. His grunts and deep scowl would form and make the women squeak off with a quick apology and run away. Miguel felt bad for scaring them but he just wasn’t used to the idea of people wanting him. So how is it that you seemed so easy to be with? He gazes next to you, in your own world reading your book. You and Miguel had gone to the park for a small date since it was a beautiful sunny day. Your hair framed your face perfectly, the sun giving you an angelic glow while you had a soft pout on your lips as you flipped through the pages. Miguel liked it like this: you two together while doing different things at the same time. In this case, you were reading and Miguel was admiring you.

He feels himself blush at his thoughts. You were just so pretty. Miguel never thought someone like you could ever like someone like him. You were–well you were just too cute. It was typical how you two met. You were leaving your shift at a family owned cafe in the middle of the day. He was just coming in for a quick tour around the town to stretch his legs when he bumped into you on the way inside. He made you yelp and drop your lunch straight onto the ground. You groaned in frustration at yourself and for the lost food when you looked up at him. He did the same, tsking at how blind he was and was going to apologize when he was taken aback how pretty you were. It was a strange feeling to have his heart speed up at the sight of someone. You spoke up, apologizing for not seeing him and scanning his outfit to see if you dropped anything on him. Miguel simply gawks at you and you worry if you might’ve had some leftover crumbs on your face. You blush and try to hide yourself out of embarrassment but Miguel quickly speaks up again, blurting his own apology and wanting to see your eyes again. He noticed you holding onto your apron and immediately connected the dots that you worked here.

He went by the next day. He nervously sat at a table by the wall and placed his laptop on top of the table to make it appear like he was working. What was he doing? Is he stupid? There’s no way this would work. You came into the place to start your shift, a smile on your face as you greeted the coworkers you were close with. Miguel feels his face burn up and he tries hiding behind his laptop which is amusing because of his large shoulders. You glanced at him throughout the day wondering if that man had always come in. You walked over to his table with a notepad in hand. “Did someone take your order yet?” You smiled down at him. Miguel stiffens in his chair and he peeks up at you. He hopes to god he isn’t blushing hard enough for you to see it on his cheeks. “No…no. I, uh, haven’t decided.” He grumbles. His eyebrows knit down and his lips frown–a sign he’s saving himself from the social awkwardness that he is. You don’t take it to heart, finding it endearing the way he appeared nervous. You noticed. “Well, if you’re down for a recommendation, I usually like the white mocha.” You tap your pen on the side of your notepad. Miguel doesn’t look up into your eyes.

“That’s…Okay. Okay, I’ll have that.” Even though he’s not really a fan of white mocha. “Can I have a name?” you ask, clicking your pen. “Miguel.” He taps slowly on his keyboard and you smile, writing it down.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. He thinks it was all you that had helped him make it this far. First it was one date, then a second, soon enough he bashfully asked you if you wanted him to be yours. And now you two were here, alone together at the park. He flips through the pages of his own book mindlessly. You helped him get into reading and the two of you have little meetings about the books you’re reading. He bites his bottom lip, ripping the loose skin off in a nervous habit. He found it insane how he found you, how easily you came into his life when everyone around him, including himself, had believed he’d probably be alone for the rest of his life. He glances over at you again and blushing again. How lucky is he to call you his? How is he so lucky for him to be yours? He shakes himself back to reality. He can’t believe how much he has changed and it’s all because of you. He became worried. Is this the right choice? The two of you were so young, what if this became marriage? Would he want that? Of course he does but do you want that? He hoped you did. Oh, shock, if you didn’t he’d be heartbroken. He doesn’t think there would ever be another person for him other than you. His mind spirals, his heart beating rapidly.

“Miggy.” You call out to him and he feels his heart stop for a minute. He feels goosebumps on his skin as he turns to face you. There you are with your perfect smile, your perfect face–oh, you get cuter every time he looks at you– were you always this ethereal? You tilt your head towards him with a tiny grin. “You’re very pretty,” You say softly. “The sunlight makes you extra pretty.” You giggle. Miguel’s brain goes into overdrive–he’s shutting down. How does he respond? How can he respond? What does someone even say to that? He gulps down a dry lump in his throat and hesitates to speak; he wasn’t sure how this relationship thing was supposed to go. “You’re…pretty…too.” He chokes out. Did he sound stupid? You burst out laughing and cover your mouth with your hand. Oh,he definitely sounded stupid. He burns even more, his cheeks and tips of his ears becoming a dark crimson. In between laughs, you look at him adoringly. “Oh, I love you.” He looks completely embarrassed, sighing deeply and reaching out to grip your hand tightly in his. He squeezes it three times. I love you.

A/N: oh to be loved ♡( ◡‿◡ )

[mochachiiii]

NewJeans Fanpack

Here’s finally NewJean's fanpack that I’ve had in my wip for a literal entire year. oopsies

-Objects Found all over so it’s best to type Mocha in the search to find

-Cost 1 §

-Albums have slots so stack em

ACC LIGHTSTICKS INCLUDED in 3 flavors:

-Acc has all LOD’s -Acc works with T,YA,A male and female -Acc is disallowed for random -Acc has custom thumbnail -Lightstick found in Ring Category

DOWNLOAD: SFS/MG

✰ If you want some NewJeans billboard overrides I made You can find them HERE✰

YOU CAN ALSO GET THE OTHER STUFF I MADE BY CHECKING ✰ MY MASTERLIST ✰

TOU

-Feel free to tag me in screenshots @mochachiiii

- Don’t Re-upload or Redistribute

-Feel Free to include in your builds(you can credit me if you want no pressure tho ^.^)

-Don’t steal and claim as your own

-You can recolor but do not include my mesh. Link back to the original post

-If there is anything wrong with the objects please let me know

-Enjoy!!~~~

Wanna Support Me?—-> ♡