#Cross POV baby!!

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Hard Learned Lesson

Hello everyone!

*cough* so... you all ready for some... angst? ;3

Timeline wise this is in the spring of the first year the guys got the farm! So their first spring in FarmTale <3

First Drabble (Thank @spotaus for the one who started this madness with the original prompt) Prev Drabble Next Drabble

No beta or edits :3 We just going. Again. Angst incoming!

*--------------------*

Nightmare huffs as he looks bored at his stupid math work. He doesn't get it! The teacher jsut... doesn't explain it like when Dusty does. Dust knows how to tell him things that make sense!

Nightmare doesn't like this school he has to be in.

He doesn't like being away from his dads- caretakers- his four. He prefers to be with them and have them decide when it is time to learn and how.

Nightmare knows he can trust them. they are safe.

At least he doesn't have to be here for long... Just a day each week. And just until they figure out his school level or something.

The teacher smiles at him and speaks softly "Hey there night night."

Nightmare glares wiht all his might at her "Nightmare." his name is nightmare! Only his dads- his four are allowed to call him night night or nighty or nightlight!! That is their right! Not hers!

The teacher giggles and smiles at him "I am sorry. Nightmare. How is your math going?"

Nightmare frowns as he looks at the numbers and the drawings of apples. something about adding stuff together and taking a few away or something. He knows he used to be able to do this but how he did it he can't quite remember or figure out.

Ngihtamre shrugs and plays a bit iwht his pencil.

The teacher nods as she crouches next to him "Still hard?"

Nightmare shrugs and mutters softly "Dusty could explain..."

He doesn't like most adults who are here. Most of them imply that his four did stuff wrong or are doing wrong. Nightmare doesn't agree. They did everything right! THey came back so they can't do wrong. This lady is nice. she makes sure her voice is quiet and lets him stay inside when the other louder kids go play outside. She doesn't mind him reading his book instead of drawing.

the nice teacher smiles and nods "I am sure your dad is a great teacher. He seemed like the smart type."

Nightmare nods before catching up with what she said and freezing. He keeps messing up in his head and calling them dads... would that be weird? He doesn't want to be weird.

she smiles and takes a seat next to him "How about we try to do the problems together? We can try to work through them then?"

Nightmare shrugs again. Not really caring that much. He just needs to wait a bit longer and one of them will pick him up and they will go home and snuggle. Killer found a new movie to watch. Probably more cowboys! Nightmare likes them okay but loves to just lay wiht Killer when watching as Killer loves those a lot.

his teacher smiles at him and takes out a pencil. "OKay. the first problem. it is a bit of complex adding with the higher numbers but it works the same as the smaller numbers and-"

a loud knock on the door.

The door opens and one of the older ladies walks in. Nightmare doesn't like her. she is strict and always looks at his dads disapproving. As if they did smething wrong. She is also the one who says it is just a matter of time before Nightmare will like being here. Nightmare knows better and makes sure to tell the interview guy each time he wants to have classes with dusty again.

his nice teacher frowns as she looks up "Is something wrong miss March?"

The older lady huffs but speaks up "Someone came to pick him up. somekind of emergency."

Nightmare frowns and glances over. it are two humans who both look rather official. He immediantly leans behind the nice teacher and mutters "Dusty said to never go with others." One of the rules. Never ever leave this building unless it was with any of them. One of them is usually the whole day in the building with him.

The nice teacher looks unsure "March. I know for a fact those man are not part of the group that was allowed to pick him up."

March waves at one of the man and he shows an official looking document with somekind of symbol on it. Nightmare doesn't like this and inches clsoer to his teacher.

SHe reaches for the paper but the man pulls it away and tugs it away "It is sensitive information. It is a matter of great importance that we leave right this minute."

Ngihtmare doesn't like this. this is bad. These man are lying. he just knows it. Nightmare knows liars and he doesn't like them and these two are lying!

Nightmare looks at the nice lady "I don't want to go. I wanne wait for dad." he is scared. please.

The nice teacher smiles at him before looking at the other three adults "I am sorry. but he doesn't feel comfortable. I am sure we can just wait here for one of his fathers to show up. I will stay late with him to wait." she offers immediantly and Nightmare feels a bit better.

March glares at her "April! Stop that. These man are very important. They say it is an family emergency."

April! That was her name! April looks unsure between them and then Nightmare "I still think..."

MArch sighs loudly "You are a kindergarden teacher. You don't think." she smiles at the two man "I am so sorry for her. I will make sure to give her a talking to. You two make sure the little man gets to where he needs to go!" she grabs Arpil's arm and pulls her along.

April protests loudly "Wait! Miss March! I really don't think this is a good idea!"

Ngihtmare plans to follow her but one of the man gets in the way. he smiles andit doesn't feel good. it feels dangerous. He knows those type of faces. He used to see them daily. Ngihtmare feels his fight or flight response start to appear as he glances around.

The man speaks ina soft and quiet voice "Hey there. I know this is very scary but we have somewhere very important to be okay? We need to be quick. come now."

Nightmare shakes his skull as he glances around. Panic in his soul and magic. Where is Dusty? Or Crossy? Kills? 'Ror? where are his four? One is always near?

Unless these man knew... unless there are more people and some of them are distracting them!

THe man grabs his arm and pulls him along. Nightmare is once again reminded that he is weak. Weak and powerless and useless as he can't even defend himself!

The leave the building and a van is parked nearby. More panic as he is pushed in and the door clsoes.

--

Cross feels numb as he watches Killer tear the two ladies a new one "What the fuck you mean you let strangers take him!?"

Miss March, the personal assistant of the owner of this whole fucking thing looks insulted "Well! I will have you know that I tried to stop it but that April, the naive idiot girl, decided to trust strangers!"

Said girl, woman honestly even if she is still young sits on a chair in tears. She had been the one to call them in a panic. April looks up wiht a glare and read eyes from crying "I told you not to trust them! I told you not to let them take him but you pulled me away and when i got back to where he was before he wasn't there and and and-" she sobs as she hugs herself, she stares at them begging "I am sorry. I swear i tried! I tried to stay wiht him but Miss march she-"

March hisses at her "shut up you stupid dimwit!"

Killer is seething as he glares at March "Where. is. our. child!?"

MArch stammers and tries to explain that some man came in about some emergency. Killer growls "so instead of verifying that they were speaking the truth you just trust the first person to walk in and way a piece of paper around?"

Cross stares at April. he still can't feel anything. just dread. He walks to her side and stares at her "What did they look like?"

April blinks as she looks at Cross with tears in her eyes. Cross just doesn't care. He needs to find him. Now. a glance shows that Horror and Dsut are talking with police man. Dust is beside himself and keeps trying to pull his hood further over his skull. clearly nearing an actual breakdown.

Cross can fix this. He just needs to get Nightmare back.

April sobs as she rubs her eyes. She thinks for a moment before giving an as detailed description as possible.

Arpil frowns as she pauses "there... there was this symbol on the paper. Wait. let me draw it." she opens her folder and grabs a bright blue glitter pen and starts drawing it. Cross knows a police officer joined him and is taking notes himself.

She shows the symbol "It looks likes this. Some werid snake around a sword. It looked a bit like the medical symbol and stuff but it doesn't quite like it." she frowns.

The police man frowns and starts to talk about this gang named the Viper and how they kidnap children. often political reasons.

Cross however already checked out as he starts thinking. the speed limit is about 30 kilometres an hour in these type of areas. This happened not longer than 20 minutes ago.

If they were pushing their luck and driving hard they couldn't have driven harder than 50 an hour. which means they are at this point about at maximum about 15 to 20 kilometres away.

If they are already known with the police? They won't risk being out long. They know when Cross and the others would be away because they were held up getting food and snacks. Meaning it was planned. Meaning they knew that they would immediantly get the news out.

Cross hums and glances towards the door. They are hiding somewhere nearby. They can't risk being in a car and being searched. This universe has cops that actually care and want to help people. If they are already on their shitlist?

a circle of 25 kilometres. That is what Cross thinks they should be within for now until they will feel brave to search for a spot to... to... do whatever they had planned for Nightmare.

Cross slowly backs away from the othrs. He mutters to Horror that he is going to catch some air. Horror shoots him a worried look but Dust is actively shaking and tears are leaving his sockets so Horror is quick to try and calm him.

Cross feels the air grow more and more static. he steps out of the building and glances up. Very dark clouds, black and purple and some flashes of lightning.

Cross looks around the area around the building. police cars are everywhere but none of them notice Cross. Cross looks at his own arm and can only see himself because he knows what to look for. a slight difference in depth compared to the area around him. His camouflage his active.

Good.

He will need that.

He glances around againa nd finds the cops looking at tire tracks. he gets near and studies them.

He hates what his universe made him. He hates what XGaster has made him. BUt... Cross can admit... It has its benefits. He memorises the pattern of the track in the dirt and considers how deep the track is. Yeah. Somekind of van. A small one but heavy. So probably a two seater and the loading area in the back. Most likely no windows or Nightmare could have waved to get someones attention.

Cross has an area. And a general idea on what to look for.

Time. To. Hunt.

---

Something smashes into pieces and Nightmare shakes as he keeps hiding his skull wiht his arms. Not able to ban out the voices.

"What do you mean you don't know who to contact?!"

another shouting voice "It means I don't know! We have had no one react to our messages and codes about him! Our hackers didn't find anything on those four! No schooling. No past lives. No past adresses. Nothing!"

the first voice "Of course not! One of them was tugged away from eye sight to even get that child! Find out who he was with and we know who will pay raw gold to get that little freak back!"

Ngihtmare shivers at that word. He isn't a freak... he isn't... Crossy always says he is special and perfect. that means he isn't a freak.

another voice "What if this was all a waste?"

the first voice "Then we find some other weird fucker that wants a monster child. There is always some sick fuck that likes toys like that."

Ngihtamre is shaking. he wants his dads. He wants to cuddle with his dad and eat food with his dad and watch tv and...

He sobs.

A loud groan "And of course that stupid thing is a whining crybaby and it won't shut up!"

a new voice. much more worried "euh... guys? Remember those clouds i was talking about?"

more groans and the tired voice of before answers "Dude. not now. we are having a crisis here."

THe newest guy continues "No you don't get it... the clouds? Those are completely black... there is no sunlight coming through."

silence before rushing steps and more curses and awed noises.

a moment of silence for another person speaks up "The radios are out...so is the phone service and well... any service..."

A flash and immediatnly loud thunder. Nightmare isn't afraid however... as that was Dusty's storm. He can feel it. the familiar static and magic that circles and seems to hug him. If Dusty's storm has already found him... That must mean Dust is close right? Or that dust now knows his location right?

Nightmare isn't sure how they are getting more powers. but they are so cool...

more sounds of annoyance and grumbles as the humans all take seats. grumbles about how they can't keep looking for a buyer now and that they will be forced to wait or risk being seen.

Nightmare looks around his small cage. he is stuck in somekind of animal cage in a dark room without any window. but he still feels and hears the lightning and thunder. he knows the flashes happen as he feels his own magic notice them. the immediant thunder after it.

They are right in the middle with the lightning right above them.

another crack and flash and suddenly loud shouts as the light under the door turns off. Seems like everything is broken now.

Loud annoyances and grumbles as they wlak around. shouting at each other. Nightmare rolls back up and waits.

He just... he just has to have faith! They found him once... surely they can find him again right? Surely... they want him still right?

right?

---

Cross runs through the forest. letting the static in the air guide him as he follows the tracks. Cross isnt'sure if the storm is leading him or if he is leading the storm at this point.

It doesn't matter.

The effect is the same.

Dust's storm and him move togehter. the lightning and static move in unison with Cross as he rushes through the forest. Everything grows quiet and still around him as he moves. unseen and more one with the world around him than seperate at this point.

It doesn't matter.

Because he found it.

He spots the van first and sees the house it is parked by after. He watches for a moment and the bright purple magic flashes quickly and loudly. flash after flash after flash.

It should be bothersome to him.

It isn't.

Cross moves silently as he reaches the van first. he pulls the door open with one harsh tug and takes the actual backdoor with the tug. he drops it to the ground and looks into the van. Nobody but there are small marks of someone having clawed as the floor.

Cross moves silently and smoothly into the van and studies the marks. He knows those marks. Nightmare tends to try and push Killer away and if they don't help him clip his claws before they get too long Nightmare tends to accidentally scratch Killer.

The scratches are never deep and never take longer than a few minutes to heal. Nightmare still feels bad about it even if Killer doesnt even feel it.

Cross follows the marks with one of his own fingers. He was right.

Cross leaves the van just as quietly as he entered it and walks towards the door. Not marching. More like gliding. Silent. Smooth. Quickly.

He gets to the door and pusehs his knife in between the side and the door. One quick push and the lock breaks and the door swings open. THe hallway is dark.

He hears movement deeper in the building.

Cross moves silent as a shadow. leaving no trail or tracks in his wake.

he moves through the hall and leaves the door open. purple flashes behind him and Cross can't help but notice that his shadow looks weird. almost as if his shadow itself is melting into the other shadows and stuff... weird...

He follows the hall and gets to the living room. He just pushes the door open and sees about seven humans all looking around trying to locate stuff wiht flashlights. one of the flashlights shines over him and the human screams bloody murder. the others turn and scream and yell themselves. something about a demon.

Cross doesn't care. He is here for two reasons. one. get his baby back. two? Make sure these sorry excuses never get the chance to take their baby away ever again.

Cross stares before rushing one of the humans. he has them by the head and throws them into the wall. the wall cracks and the human drops motionless to the floor. Cross slowly turns to the others.

The raise their weapons but Cros has already jumped another. He pushes the human to the floor and grabs them by the head. he smashes the head against the floor once and hears the tiles break just as the skull caves in on itself and the human goes motionless instantly.

Cross rises back to his full length.

One of the humans shakes as they raise their weapon "fuck... fuck!" and starts firing.

Cross doens't know why he doesn't move. Maybe it is... because he kidna knew. the bullets seem to all, just move through him. as if he isn't all the way there yet is. untouchable until cross wants to touch something.

more panicked cursing as Cross holds out an arm. and his own weapon materialises. he goes for his one large sword and gets to work.

It isn't even a fight.

Cross would think calling this a fight would be an insult to actual fights he had.

play fights and spars with killer are more challenging.

Having a verbal debate with Killer is more challenging! and Killer hardly even gives arguments!

Cross dematerialises his sword and stalks around the house. He doens't hear anymore movement of people walking around.

a soft sob.

Cross is by the storage closet in seconds and pulls the door open.

Cross wants to thank his lucky stars he has night vision because he doesn't even need a flash of lightning to see their baby. Cross is on his knees by the cage in seconds as he pushes a hand through the bars and rubs the tiny cheeks to clean the tears. only for fresh tears to appear and Nightmare to grab his hands.

Nightmare sobs "dad... I was scared."

Cross mutters soft praises and reassurances all at once as he just sits by his baby "it is okay nighty. I am here. I am not going anywhere okay? We will just wait here. Your other dads are on their way okay? we will go home and lay in the nest and read stories. You have been so brave and I am so sorry you had to wait for so long." More tears keep appearing and Cross keeps rubbing them away gently.

Cross will stay right there for as long as they need.

flashing police lights and Cross feels himself growl when his phone buzzes. He opens the chat and sees a message from Killer.

'horror texted me to say he sees a broken open car and the police are nervous. Make sure the police can break nightmare out. Stay near but invisible. I know it sucks but please!!'

Cross doesn't like it but he can already feel himself start to disappear from view. He whispers to Nightmare "I am staying right here with you okay? Some people will walk in and they are police man. They will bring you to Dusty and Horror okay?"

Nightmare sniffs and sobs as he looks desperate at Cross. Seemingly not at all bothered by Cross using his weird invisibility. Nightmare keeps staring at him and sniffs "promise? You won't leave?"

Cross smiles and rubs the tiny cheek "I will stay right here with you. Forever." like fuck anyone is going to get any of them to leave their baby. He is theirs and no one elses. Everyone can gets lost and disappear for all Cross cares. He has what he needs with his new family.

Nightmare nods and sits their shaking. his tiny hands not letting go of Cross's hand and Cross keeps holding both tiny hands wiht one of his as he rubs the tiny cheek with his other. The discomfort of how he needs to wiggle his way through the bars not even fully registering as he waits.

Loud shouts of police and slow steps. dead silence as they find the slaughter that Cross left behind. more rushed steps and a panicked voice "Kid?! Kid please be okay! Yell out! We are here to help! please we are worried and your dads are worried too!"

Nightmare sobs and looks at the door. He can't seem to find words and just whines. The sound feels like a shot right through Cross's soul as he keeps holding the tiny hands.

Rushed steps and someone with lights and red and blue reflectives steps in. The officer sighs in relieve "oh thank the heavens you are okay." he takes a step closer but Nightmare obviously flinches and tugs himself in a corner. more sobs and shaking leaves him.

Nightmare mutters sound so loud in the silent room "want dad... dad... where is dad?" more sobbing and his breathing comes out in short pants. slight panic starts to appear on his face.

The officer takes out his walkie talkie "Get one of those skeletons in here..." a moment of silence "I don't care! Lead them in then to make sure they don't touch anything! This child just went through actual hell and deserves someone he can trust." after which he raises both hands. making it clear he isn't hiding anything.

It doesn't help as Ngihtmare keeps breathing quicker and more whines. Cross tries to reassure him but it only helps so much. Cross has no doubt the cage isn't helping either but that would mean that cross would have to open the cage and the other would see that and Cross doubts even Killer can lie their way out fo that one and-

Running steps and a moment later Dust pushes past the officer. He stands frozen before he throws himself at the cage and just rips it open. He has Ngihtmare in his arms wihtin seconds and just. stays rolled up on the floor. shaking.

Cross sees the Nightmare immediantly starts breathing easier as he pushes clsoe to dust. more sobs "dad... .dad... i was scared"

Dust mutters soft apologises and love messages to Nightmare. How he is sorry he wasn't there. and that he swears he will be better and that he and the others all love him so much and that they were terrified and that they won't let anyone hurt him and how much they love him.

Cross just hugs the two for a moment. using his invisibility to give them some comfort. Dust leans into the touch and mutters a thanks for saving him.

the police officer reassurace him it is just their job but Cross knows Dust had aimed it at him.

It makes him feel warm inside. knowing he did soemthing to save their baby. to protect his family. warm and loved.

Cross follows Dust and the police officer out as Dust staggers outside. Still hugging Nightmare close and clearly trying to hide him from the world.

Once outside Horror steps over and easily lifts Dust and Nightmare. Hiding both in his arms as he mutters his own apologises to Nightmare and how scared they had been.

Cross can't help but notice that the sky is no longer thundering and while still cloudy and dark all the lightning had disappeared.

Cross then feels his phone buzz again and he checks the message. it is killer. sending him a message that as soon as he can he needs to reunite with him in the police car he is riding with. Make sure to be sneaky.

Cross watches his two mates not mates mates friends fush over nightmare as the police people get to work.

Cross leaves the scene of the crime and follows the road to reunite wiht killer.

He sees a few other cop cars making their way over to the location and eaisly enough spots Killer in one. Killer stares outside and Cross manages to land silently on the car roof.

As Killer ordered Cross manages to wiggle his way into the moving cop car. Killer nudges him in the side and Cross feels his camouflage finally disappear, as it disappears he feels the exhaustian start to creep up.

Killer grins at the humans in front "Again thank you for giving us both a ride!"

The police man blinks confused but as he looks up he stares at both Cross and killer. Killer keeps smiling and the police man ends up nodding "Well... of course! Heavens knows that I would be beside myself if I lost my little girl. My daughter is my whole world and if anything happened to her..." he shakes his head "of course we would all try to reunite you four with your boy as soon as possible!"

Killer continues talking to the human. Cross zones out as he suddenly feels so very tired...

For now? None of it matters to Cross. Let Killer figure out how to manipulate and lie to the humans.

Cross feels tired and just wants to see their mate with thier child. Safely reunite with their other mate.

Nothing else matters right now.

Cross still remains vigilant. He can rest later... Once they are home again. Once they are all safe again.

*--------------------*

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[marsneedstherapy]

don't blame me (romajuliette's version)

[hauntingblue]

Gamma knife???? That's so cool. Melt that man's organs law!!!

[starry-bi-sky]

POV you're in another dimension with a de-aged Batman and your stress levels are reaching new heights. congrats you might just be the new Batman for a little bit. (ignore how my artstyle fluctuates. im working on it lol)

“Your brother is adorable.” The cashier cooed at Danny, peering over the counter with a smile. “What’s his name?”

Danny looked down to the surly, scowling little de-aged Batman currently holding onto his hand, glaring up at the cashier with bright blue eyes.

Things had already been bad enough when he’d gotten caught in a fight in Gotham, but things went from bad to worse when a magician had hit Batman with a de-aging spell and then shoved them through a portal.

Into a different fucking dimension.

Because of course neither of their lives could be easy. And now the two of them were stuck in Iowa in the middle of nowhere, at a truck stop gas station, trying to go on a cross-country roadtrip to reach the nearest hero city and get home.

He looked up and smiled awkwardly, trying to come up with a name off the top of his head — one of the heroes called Batman ‘B’ when he got hit right? B for Batman, right. B… B… Bee… Bees.

“Buzz.” He said, and tried not to grimace as the cashier’s face warped with surprise. “Like the astronaut.”

This was gonna be a long trip.

[screampied]

#BONGOS!

☆ sum. pov: when his backshots are just so good, they sound like bongooos! toji, choso, geto, sukuna, ino, nanami, gojo.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, dick drunk! reader, LETHAL BACKSHOTSSS, dom! choso sorta, ass obsessed men, size kink, brief cunnīlingus, doggystyle, prone boneee, hair pulling (nanami), slight dacryphīlia, runnin from it, pússy so good tears uppp (ino), spanks, dirty talk, sqúirting, bręeding, bed breaking, manhandling, cęrvix fucking.

an. HAPPY SQUIRTMAS *wet jingle noises*

CHOSO ★ KAMO.

“mhm- ah ah, get back here,” choso sharply prowls, each smoky pant turning raspier within the pitch.

choso was two words - feral and ruthless, and here he was having you all pretty and bent over on all fours..

his dark-rimmed eyes wandered everywhere at your body displayed underneath him. choso’s pointed ears couldn’t help but instinctively twitch upon hearing each sobbing mewl draaag its way out of your esophagus. it’s nothing but cute elongated syllables that made little to no sense, and each electrifying paps of fleshy stinging mounds clasping together has your head spinning in circles.

“ ‘m tired…of you, hah- always teasin’ me so much, baby. think you need a reminder of who’s in charge, huuuh?”

“c- chos—oooh!” your words get crudely cut off at the sloppy curve of his cock massaging through each part of your cunt.

like a maze - the upper part of his puffed tip clumsily gets lost, leisurely finding its way through before wetly marking every tender spot of your pussy with his curious tip. he’s beating up all spots, slowing his jagged hitting hips down purposely before picking his pace right back up. “mm- right f- fuckin’ thereee, fuck me then.”

with a sassy eye roll, choso deepens his angle, reaching an arm out to hold onto the grunting, wooden headboard. it’s undeniably loud, creaking non-stop each time both jolting bodies ounce against the bed frame.

“plan… on it,” and you whine, glossed lips breaking apart before your mouth spreads agape. he’s just so thick, and he loves more than anything to treat your pussy like it was just elastic. that effortless stretch- choso groans every time he feels you closing around him, cutely trying to squeeze around him before wheezing out those cute ‘oooh!’ ’s of whimpers.

“hah- gotta teach her some manners. can’t have you thinkin’ you can just walk all over me, princess—oh, fuuuck.”

every nth of choso’s staggering fat inches drills into you deeply, causing your eyes to goofily cross. he’s in you sooo good, using two grabby hands to raise your clumsy hips upright. “ugh- choso, mhm!” and your cunt’s just profusely dripping all around him, eagerly squelching at each springy thrust. he’s hard, maintaining a good alignment before his hips shimmy. his pace was literally inhuman. choso treats your convulsing nub like a target—repeatedly, striking your g-spot with precise hits as if it’s the perfect bullseye.

as you both each share laborious, breathy pants, he snatches your hips right back against his chiseled pelvis with an impish disapproving pout. “what did i say…no mngh- runnin’, pretty,” and you moan, feeling choso’s hand makes you dip all the way forward into his bare chest.

now, your back was just arched fully over with your ass perked up in the air. choso admires your slobbering pussy before leaning in, taking a moment to spit down between the exposed valley of your ass.

“f- fuuck, you’re so nasty, ‘cho,” you’d whine, holding back a bratty smile once your hand grips a jiggling fat of your rotating ass. through bleary peripherals and droopy hanging eyelids, choso’s swiping a thumb over his lips, another smearing his treacly saliva around your stuffed entrance to make sure you stay nice and wet for him.

it’s incredibly slimy, and his digit continues to sloppily trail further down the teary slot of cunt. it’s so raunchy, and choso licks his thin-pursed lips as if he’s preparing to feast….and right then, that’s when choso brings his freshly slick-coated fingers toward his rosy achy lips.

“she’s.. nastier,” choso grunts with his blushful broad tip aching from every ridged corner. your cunt wetly pops out an excited shriek of its own and your entire body starts to relax. he’s hissing through his teeth, fanning himself once he feels the cruel stiffening of his cock pound pound pound into your very core. “lemme hear her some more, princess. ‘s not enough hah- wet talk.”

and as choso’s rude hips continue to buck buck buck, he’s using every raging part of his hips to drill into you raw.

each twist, each turn—he’s deep, making sure your cunt remembers every narrow hit of his dick. a mixture of your sweetened moans and his feral grunts fill the air before he feels that cute clamping stick of your ass. “ ‘m gonna cum, ‘m cummin!” you’d gasp, poor knobbly thighs just slapping against each other. choso’s hips had the inside of your mouth watering, and you only wanted more. “fuck me- fuck me, f- ugh!”

your body inaudible screams with tremors and tremors of crazed shakes. once your lonely awaited finish comes, your mouth drops open but not a sound comes out. instead, a cute tiny squeak follows out of your husky larynx with your eyes carelessly rolllllling way back into the very back of your brain.

you’re seeing nothing but black as you’re riding out your orgasm, creaming down on choso’s cock with not a single thought in mind. “mhm- that’s it, ride it out baby, ride it out,” choso slows his hips to your defeated rhythm, feeling your body underneath him convulse rapidly. you saw stars, galaxies of them in fact, maybe even a few comets.

“c- choso,” you’d moan, hearing pitchy rough breaths from behind you. the wiiiiide stretch of his dick still makes itself known and you’re humming, batting your dampened lashes sporadically at the sudden overwhelming wave of elation. “fuuuckk- more,” and he ogles as you make him pull out, cutely flipping yourself over with a flushed look of sensual desire.

despite how you were just drenched in your sweat, you still craved more. choso stares at you sprawling your legs out fully, bringing two dry padded fingers towards your sensitive clit before pinching it. “l.. let’s try mating press, baby.”

“you’re impossible,” he sheepishly says, with a wry head shake, gingerly placing his weight on top of you. his onyx-colored ponytails were all scruffy, and he was sweating from all corners of his forehead. with a loud, wet ‘plap!’ noise, choso sloppily re-aligns his tip before it sloooowly starts to sink its way inside of your wet pussy, reuniting.

“hah- fine, but ‘m gonna have to…stretch you a bit, baby,” and you moan, feeling choso raise your leg, nearly hooking it over your head before positioning the other limb to mimic the same. sealing your trembling lips with an open-mouthed kiss, he grunts against your twisting tongue as he’s hungrily bottoming out inside of you.

“gotta get my baby all stretched,” he slips out a throaty whimper, hardened cock barreling further inside of you before he surprises random sticky kisses on your raised ankle.

“but, l- let’s…test out that flexibility while we’re at it, hm?”

SUGURU ★ GETO.

geto and backshots are a deadly combo within itself.

“take it. take it, taaake it,” he growls, his carnally encouraging words sounding more like a looping chant by the second. you’re moaning with his palm slapped against your mouth, shamefully drooling all over his hand in the process. of course, staring right in front of you too, was no one other than yourself. arched over, hunched over too, and lewdly crossed-eyed.

you probably looked a sight.

ruffled, shaggy strands of hair glued to your forehead. as your jaw was goofily hanging—just forever open with an agape ‘lil mouth that’s covered with geto’s hand, your wet tongue licks a path around his warm palm.

gasping for any ounces of air that you could get with his hand printed over your mouth, your cheek then prints against the cold, frigid mirror with how harder his thrusts were getting. “f- fuck, sugu mmph!” you coo out, feeling your thighs tense at each popping slam. remnants of whiteish, dried cum painted against your thighs. a licentious, dirty reminder of just how much he was claiming you from behind.

round after round and it turned from minutes to hours of just getting filled from every orifice with geto’s hot, creamy cum. geto’s cock wears you thin in every goopy crevice ‘n corner of your wet pussy, causing your poor larynx to sound hoarse from all the moaning within no time.

he’s pumping in all inches—grinding into your hips as you moved, cutely trying to jostle your waist to his rhythm but failing horribly.

“mngh- slutty girl, look at that ass tryna fuck me back. A for effort, i guess,” he grunts with a sneer, admiring the tears of sweat that started to gloss down your arched spine. so pretty..

almost looking akin to a necklace, a huge hand wraps around your throat before making sure you face yourself in the mirror. geto slides his other palm away from your mouth, scoffing at the webby sleek strings of spit following before he rubs it all over your mouth. “don’t look away, look at how your face gets when you…hah- slut yourself out on my dick, doll.”

“ugh- harderrrr,” your moans were starting to turn bouncy, and he was fucking you with every damn fiber of his being. geto’s buckled knees bury into the silk padded mattress and he’s dragging out hoarse gasp after gasp from your parched throat. his hits against your ass were loud, they sounded like bongos with how rough his pelvis creates music with each drumming hit.

“mmh- so good, so fuckin’ good,” your whines continue to drag out, and you’re tasting treacly salted saliva on your rosé buds.

through your peripherals, you spot geto working his hips into you. you couldn’t help but take a glance at his snatched waist that’s just so slim. he’s swerving into you at full speed, creating 360 donuts with his sloppy hips as he accelerates. geto sucks in a sharp, smoky break as he continued to plummet into your cunt over ‘n over again until you’re cutely clinging onto the mirror for leverage.

“cute,” he clicks his tongue, lowering his darkened irises down the curving arch of your bent-over back. from behind you, you heard him whistling at your watch before spanking your ass. the glossy sweat that remained on your backside shines bright, brighter than any sun—creating a creeping glow in the sunlight from the cracked open curtain in the distance. “good girl. lie back. all ya gotta do is.. hah- lie back ‘n let me have my way with this sloppy-fuckin’-cunt.”

each malleable thrust gets enunciated with each hard whack against your pussy that makes your teeth jitter. you’re moaning, barely able to keep up with his zealously, agile pace before the slit tip of his cock diagonally slithers its way near your clit. milliseconds pass before you then start to feel his crowned tap-tap tapping against your bumpy cervix. it’s a mean tap, and your eyes crossed even further together with your tongue abjectly lolling out. “s- shit, that spot. that.. mngh- suguru!”

a handful of nerves swim their way into the bottom parts of your stomach before you whine. you’re panting continuously, gently shoved face first against the now fogged mirror that was in directly front of you. it’s steaming up because of your harsh, wheezing breaths before you squeal. it’s quick, but your legs end up collapsing and so does your entire body.

“ ‘m cummin’, fuck!” you yawp, gasping breathlessly at that sliiiight turn of his pivoting hips. geto’s cock runs all through you, kneading your cunt with each brutal thwack.

sweetened whimpers pour from your lips once you end up meeting your euphoric maker. “ugh- s.. suguru,” low, pulled lids of your eyes start to feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open. you’re pussy’s wetly squalling, letting off squelches as you smothered geto’s thick cock from swollen top to bottom with your slick essence. “f- fuck, spank m-”

“quiet, baby,” geto shushes you, a hand wrapping back around the base of your throat. with a swift slap of his roughened palm, he spanks you again anyway, and you purr out a cute ‘ooooh’ right away.

your tongue still sticks out against the reflecting steamed mirror. you’re so close to it that you’re nearly suffocating from your tepid, pants of breath washing back into your face. he’s still inside, feeling you weakly try to arch your ass up but your face slumps further against the glass. “aw, relax, sweetheart. i gotcha,” and as you’re still whimpering, geto pulls out his vermillion-colored tip.

he silently hisses at your dewy, wet grip, gazing at your dripping cunt that’s covered with sparkling white strands of your mess. groaning, he rubs his angered tip over your pussy in a greedy circle.

“mhm- keep goin’ suguru,” you’d frantically toss your hips around in a circle - begging, aching for him to fuck you against the mirror again. it’s even cute with how your ass did a wordless cute shake against his leaky tip, rubbing your very entrance over his sweltering, dewy-coated tip.

“god- such a fuckin’ slutty girl, can never say no to that preeeetty-shakin’-ass,” geto huffs, pausing between each word as his hand swipes against your tender feeling rear. still aroused, he grunts as his bulky cock twitches each time your skin jiggles against the sharp greeting contact.

geto flips you over with one beefy arm, tying his hair into a hurried slothful ponytail before cocking his head. “legs, raise ‘em for me, high baby,” and once you comply, geto hums, closing the distance between you and him by sliiiiding his way in between your raised legs.

in a husky voice, he smacks his plump tip against your pussy before biting your bottom lip while maintaining direct eye contact. “hah- that’s it, stretch those fuckin’ legs for sugu, sweetheart. and while you do thaaat,” geto grumbles, stealing a low-pitched moan from you once he delves a thick finger inside of your swallowing cunt.

“i gotta make her cream on me at least an extra four more times, heh..”

NANAMI ★ KENTO.

“like this, sweetheart?” nanami murmurs, grabbing a secure amount of hair to wholly fit into the coarse palm of his hand.

he’s gentle nonetheless, hearing your cute shallow breaths once his hips fatally stop. as you’re arched over a side of the bed, your wobbly hands piercing into the fat mattress. nanami’s unpredictable movements have you speechless, blinking thrice because who knew such a man was so nasty in bed?

of course—the only exception was his pretty wife, you. and nanami didn’t mind getting kinky for his beloved precious, even if you wanted to try something as vulgar as backshots..

he’s all the way inside you, not even moving an inch and yet it felt like he was already obliterating every part of your goopy, clamping walls.

“mhm- yeah. fuck me ‘n then just start pullin’ on it if i try to crawl away, ‘ken.” you moan, feeling that all too familiar thumping sensation arises between your quaking, sore thighs. near the very undersides, you felt the brief pants of tenderness lingering against your skin.

nanami tilts his head, shrugging out a complying, “alriiight,” and you gasp once he softly tightens the grip against your hair just a bit. “this okay? ‘m gonna start movin’ for you.“ earnestly impatient, you nod, and the blond tries to suppress a smile. already, he felt your cute body trying to wriggle away but as you said, he gently tugged you back by the hair. “anything for the kinky wife i guess. brace yourself though, honey. work’s been.. hah- rough.”

and when nanami fucks, he Fucks - capital F.

you’re holding back pitiful muffled moans as he pulls off his tie, softly stuffing it in your mouth. it’s tasteless - and you’re whimpering, feeling every stinging whack from his hips slam into your ass every three seconds.

nanami’s sweat-drenched fingertips caress both sides of your curvaceous hips—feeling all down your loving physique as he’s ferociously fucking into you at such a disrespectful speed.

every thrust was insanely languid, barely giving you time to gather up a thought in your dull, empty brain. “kento, ohmygoddd,” your voice timidly cracks, already drenching the end part of his thigh with your bubbly drool. he’s churning your insides through and through like one would churn a fresh batch of hot butter. and god- nanami’s just rocking into the rear of your ass like a boat that’s forever rickety. “harder.. pull it, baby, pull my fuckin’ hair.”

“yes, ma’am,” he raspingly responds, having the same firm grip on your hair. dozens of seconds later, a nice amount of your hair yanks back and your eyes cutely widen. you fall back and so do your hips, continuously and sloppily landing back against his hips. it’s still gentle nonetheless, but his hips were so cruel. you’d never get used to that heavenly stretch of his cock.

it’s mouthwatering, and you’re just melting at the sheer sounds of each bouncy slap! of balmy skin. nanami hears the cute bundle of gargled whines struggle to leave your throat once he grabs your hair, and he purrs. “mhm, liked that, sweetheart? should i pull again? can’t leave my woman all horny ‘n unsatisfied, hm?”

“mmph- pull.. hah- harder, ‘ken,” you nod, your words still a bit hushed and gagged from his work tie. the bed’s so unsteady, you were just it was gonna snap into two at any second. as he keeps up a decent rhythm, your jaw ends up dropping once his peachy tip greets your clit with a knocking slam. he hears another gasp slip from your lips before your ass lifts.

with another solid yank, nanami pulls a bit harder, and this time, he’s faintly snickering at how cute your body was - just slamming back into him like it already knew its territory. riiiight as his fattened tip makes itself known to your pretty, pulsating clit, you squeal out a bellowing yelp.

there!

like a q-tip, his rounded cockhead swaaaabs its way around your tightening entrance before the deep thrusts continue. your eyes were just bulging out each of their sockets, and you were speechless for a while before squealing out a cute, “ohmygu- ‘ken something’s coming. s- something’s coming kento.”

“i know, sweetheart,” he whispers, slowing his sloppy hits down but making sure that his thrusts remain deep deep deep. he studies your gyrating ass and how it flawlessly ricocheted against his skin. with each barbaric smack of your ass clashing into his pelvis, he feels both sweaty pounds of skin arise with blistering temperature.

but the last thing you’d expect was to gush right onto his cock, legs cutely twitching with a squalling whimper ripping out of your strained chords. the release was so sudden, that your eyes widened dramatically as your lips parted into a pretty bewildered ‘oh!’

the feeling was just so erogenous, and your entire body underneath his fell into jerking spasms. “my, oh myyy,” nanami gruffly murmured, still maintaining a gentle yet tight grip on the back of your head. soft, massaging fingers glissade down your scalp at his grasping hold before he feels your ass weakly writhing back into him. “messy girl, that’s it. make a mess for me, sweetheart. ‘s okay, let go.”

“u- ugh!” your brows curl, and your cunt was just dripping like a faucet - profusely. his tip stopped all types of movement, brushing against your convulsing clit as you kept gushing and he grunts. right there - right fuckin’ there.. he felt your pulse, relishing in the faint sloshing sounds that occurred between the stickiness of both fleshy thighs meshing against the skin. “fuck, fuck, fuuuck ‘ken.”

“ ‘y did so good,” nanami breathes, his wet tie drenched with your saliva flopping out past your lips. he pulls out, and his dick exits your watery pussy with a cute plap. the sheets were all soaked with your wetness and nanami’s panting, smearing his flesh-colored crown around your shriveling entrance. pulse after pulse, you’re still eager for him to get back inside despite how your entire body was shivering from your recent mind-boggling finish. “always loved myself a wet wife,” nanami softly smacks his veiny cock against your teary slit.

“the wetter the better, haah- darlin.’ let’s try that again,” and you whine, feeling his dick slap against your crying, wet pussy. with a click of his tongue, nanami lets off a deep, heavy sigh. “think she needs a bit more.. ah- velocity training.”

SUKUNA ★ RYŌMEN.

“heh- your smart mouth’s almost as annoying as your weak arch, little girl,” sukuna snickers, keen-witted canines briefly poking out his lips.

you’re moaning, letting off occasional pitchy swear words whilst getting absolutely destroyed by the king of curses himself. he always treated your pussy like an enemy — using his favorite technique, absolutely annihilating your g-spot.

the fleecy, thin straps of sukuna’s kimono tickled against your skin as he’s driving his thick cock deep into you with such rigorous might. hit after hit after hit, sukuna’s dick was just as angry as he was.

as you were whining, your voice was steadily forming raw and strained as those cute little ‘oooh’s!’ sweetly cried out from your dried voice box.

his tip’s got such a curve that makes your insides tingle. “oh….f- fuuuck,” you heave in a single sharp breath, feeling your tummy cowardly tuck its way inward. sukuna’s cock’s greedy, and each stroke makes your eyes bulge wider ‘n wider out of their sockets. he’s bottomed balls deep, and you could hear his animalistic pants bellow huskily from behind you. playfully, sukuna trails a claw down your back, watching you writhe at something as simple as his touch.

“ ‘m not gonna last, ‘kuna, s- so big, stretchin’ me so fuckin’ go—ah!” you whine, getting a face full of a fluffed pillow. he’s got an angle that makes you feel it all, every single inch pumping inside of your cunt—introducing itself against your pearled nub each passing second.

his hips were viciously vicious, and you’re just drooling from the cracks of your mouth at each girthy centimeter prying your insides open. “ughhh- don’t stop, f- fuck me. fu—”

“ahh,” sukuna tuts, and you whimper once his palm wetly spanks against your stuffed pussy. pasty, teary droplets briskly coat his hand before he rubs circles against your tender clit. with his hips securely pressed right up against your jerking ass, sukuna licks your ear. “you’ll get your turn to speak. but right now, she’s the star right now, not you. have some class, wet girl.”

as popping wet sloshes cry from the opened arc of your legs, and you feel sukuna’s forked tongue flick against your neck. “mmh- she’s so nasty, talk talk taaaalk. jus’ like her dumb fuckin’ owner..” sukuna brings your hips up with two hardened palms, making sure your face stays shoved deep into the mattress.

with a cute wiggle, your ass rewinds into him and he grunts at the immediate jiggle. with a loud, briefly stinging whack, he spanks you—hearing those cute ‘lil clamors leave your cracking throat before seconds later and he’s back to thrusting.

sukuna’s cock was dangerous - you already felt yourself getting more ‘n more stupid the harder his hips snapped into you. vehemently, his strokes turn languidly sloppy within seconds, and you mouth out a cute silent ‘ohmyfuckin’godddd!’ blood-shot eyes rove down your bouncing frame and how you were bent over just for him and only him. “mng- m’lord, there- there pleaaaase!”

“don’t know who’s louder,” the demon snarls under his breath in a tone dripping with amused mockery. he stares as your ass extends upward and you’re arched right over, face pathetically buried into his velveteen-made sheets.

every clashing pap of ridden skin never failed to echo through his chambers, and the gluey feeling of sticky, crashing thighs makes his fangs sharply nip into his lip. “mngh-” his dick swirls a shape-like motion all arooound your pussy, easing a secret pathway way into your cervix and you short circuit instantaneously.

sukuna huffs lowly, clawing more of his black whetted fingernails into the skin of your plush ass. “you or this fuckin’…hah- talkative pussy. can’t even hear myself think.”

“suh- suku-” you squeak, dumbing down from each second he spends battering his fat cock inside of you. your walls were tight, desperately clinging to him, clamping vigorously before popping out a cacophony of wet plops. your eyes were already rolled back, and your blocked vision met with a dark void of darkness. “ah-” you end up drooling, a stream of saliva starting to bubble from the corners of your twitching lips. sukuna’s deeeeep, nearly creating an unforgettable bulge with how he easily pushes his entire weight against your ass.

your mind’s completely empty . . but, you’re transported right back to reality once you hear a splitting crack of wood. as sukuna’s still driving his thick cock into your slobbering pussy like a madman, he hears that eerie ‘creeeeak’ sound.

it’s the headboard—and, within seconds, the bed awkwardly flops, and you heard the boxspring weakly snap from underneath. “ngh-” sukuna grunts, the both of you briefly collapsing from the bed calling quits to support the ridiculous weight. your release pauses as you pant, wondering what happened, and the curse just slyly snickers at you. “ ‘s all good. just a little bed break,” and you felt his forked, slimy tongue lick down your sweat-covered back. he huskily ‘ah’s’ once he allows his tongue to savor your natural taste before groaning.

his cock’s aching.. and the top of his cock’s flushing a pearly, shimmery color of velvet red. a thumb of his pulls a bit of lingering foreskin before he brings his crowned cockhead toward your pretty puckering hole. sukuna notices you trying to crane your head to look at your ass but he tsks, making you face back in front.

“turn that head back the fuck around. just because the bed broke doesn’t mean ‘m not done breakin’ this pussy too, little girl. now open up for me. goood girl.”

SATORU ★ GOJO.

“oh, oh- wait a minute, angel,” satoru pauses mid-thrust, pressing his naturally sculpted pelvis against your ass. you’re moaning once he wraps a smooth hand around your throat, bringing pink glossed lips toward the lobe of your ear. “are you cryinnn’?” and indeed, you were.

he’s been hitting you from the back so deep ‘n so good that you’re fighting back fat, glittery tears. they stick to your lashes, nearly blinding you with each flapping blink and you moaned for him to not stop - not now, not ever.

snickering smokily, satoru then starts to use his other hand to maneuver sloppy, wet shapes around your slippery, stuffed cunt.

“sooooo tender for me, hm?” and satoru’s lanky dick stretched you thin - wearing you thin with every long inch, causing your brows to cutely twist in rapture. “tsssk. can’t help but be emotional and wet for me, cute..”

“s- satoru, don’t stop- please,” your sweet pleads and begs instantly making his cock twitch inside of you. you shuddered, feeling a vein of his prod on his foreskin, nipping against your insides as he moved. satoru was so long, but even longer inside..

it’s probably been round after round, but you’re already salivating for more. his slim body was pushed right up against yours, and you felt the snowy, wooly hairs that were taped to his base drag all across his skin. he’s such a tease though. you could merely feel that annoying smug grin boring right into the back of your skull, despite how you weren’t even facing him. “ngh- finish.. fucking me.”

“oh! sounds like a demand, and y’know how i don’t like being given orders,” he hoarsely whispers, two rough hands pulling up your ass to create a deeper slope.

he’s in deep, idly massaging your clit with his tip not shifting at all. your wetness perfectly coats the entire thick base of his cock, and satoru could hear your pleading little squelches trying to sweet talk him at the same time too. “aw, is that back talk ‘m hearing?” and you whimper, hearing a slap sound between your legs.

satoru spanks your cunt - feeling you wriggle, desperately trying to rut back against him but he makes you halt. “ah- patience,” and your sweet whines fueled his ego oh-so-good. satoru’s slim waist sensually rocks against your ass, and you’re smacked by his rearing hips time ‘n time again. you’re probably so stupefied. your dripping tongue hung all out of your mouth as languid, airy pants roughly seized away from your lungs. “ ‘m gonna cum, satoru. you’re hittin’ that spot s- sooo good, mmg-”

“yeah, tell me how ya really feel,” and you gasp, feeling him push your knee into your chest. you’re still laid flat on your back, and now—he’s got an even deeper angle. his cock explores every part of your pussy, and that sticky grip on your ass makes him groan against your earlobe.

“think you just might have the strongest pussy, baby. grippin’ all… on me,” and as his voice deepens, maybe even quavering a bit from how sensitive he felt, satoru sucks sloppy kisses against your neck. “mhm- don’t think i can beat her. nope.. not when she’s being so fuckin’ hah- sloppy, shit.”

slosh after wetted slosh could be heard from between the open space of your legs and you’re whimpering. his tip’s constant thrashing so merciless - filthily showering your pearled nub with a kiss after pounding kiss until your legs were on the verge of snapping shut.

satoru’s closet pressed up against your bare rotating ass, grinding his washboard abs into your body and it just feels so hot. he swats a hand against your ass, intently sucking his teeth at the three-second jiggle before moaning lowly into your ear. “heh.. there’s that cute g-spot- i mean weak spot,” and with a rude collision—satoru’s thrusts slam into you at full impact, causing your brain to nearly hotwire.

it’s so abrupt that you didn’t even recognize your voice when your shrieking squeal came out. “mmph!” your eyes hugely bulge, and his cock’s stuffed soso many inches inside—sneaking a hand underneath your tummy just to feel you cutely heaving around his size. as you’re creaming down his hardened shaft.

sublimely, it stands tall inside of you and he heartily chuckles at your body’s retreating response. you’re shaking, barely being able to move your hips and your head ends up falling into the cushioned pillow with a soft thud. “s- satoru, don’t.. don’t stop,” and as your tongue remains lies flat down your lips, you put out a needy sob. “oh my go- hah- ‘m still.. cummin’.

“hm, okay,” satoru whispers, skipping a few warm fingers down your spine. you tense at his touch, and your back slightly raises before his dick loudly pops! it's way out of your sensitive pussy. trails ‘n trails of glistening, perspiring sweat paints down his pale frame before he flips you over. satoru treats you like a doll - a rag doll, and before you know it, you’re straddling on top of him.

with blurred, faded vision, you could see a cunning grin stretching across his pinkened lips before he aligns you. “ah, jus’ lie back against my chest, good girl,” he praises you, feeling your back recline against his ripped abdomen. you’re moaning, still shattering all rows of your teeth at your recent eye-rolling orgasm before satoru slings two arms underneath your legs.

you gasp, letting off a soft ‘oof!’ once he suddenly lifts you, openly gawking in awe at your creamy hole hovering over his crimson-shaded tip. “new position baby. ‘m gonna try usin’ infinity on this pretty cunt,” and you moaned, hearing a looooong stretch of his dick from behind you and you gulped.

was he-

satoru was making his cock longer, you didn’t even know he could do that but the anxious flutter between your thighs was almost embarrassing. your tummy steadily caves in ‘n out as you feel him starting to gradually sink into you.

attacking the left part of your neck with a barrage of wet, starving kisses—satoru hoarse grunts. “y’know what they say. eighth orgasm’s the charm, angel. now biiiiig fuckin’ stretch, lemme teach her how strong i can really get with a few extra inches, heh..”

TOJI ★ FUSHIGURO.

“c’mooon, pretty thing. let’s see that ass show me what it’s fuckin’ made of,” toji grunts, slightly tilting his right thigh up. he’s rude - hips far ruder though, and he’s just straight up plunging deep into your cervix until your tongue’s just sloppily hanging out your mouth.

with your lips wholly coated with a natural gloss of saliva, you’re damn near hysterical. he’s hitting you so deep, biting his lower lip each time your ass does that cute sticking smack right against his sharpened pelvis. toji’s washboard abs flex ‘n tense through his dingy white tank before he swats against your ass. “mhm- atta girl. entertain this dick girl, entertain- fuckin’- me.”

“mngh!” you squealed, your incoherent babble turning into muffles against the pillows in front of you. toji’s whole right-hand fits over your head and he lightly shoves your face into the mattress.

you’re whimpering, each rough slam into your rear sending staticky ringing through your ears. he’s so nasty, plowing into you with such lively horsepower that it makes you start to pant like a literal greyhound. “ ‘m gonna fuck, gonna fuckin’ cum, t- toooji.”

with a scoff, toji spanks your ass. “yeah? that’s nice.” his tone’s fuckin’ sly, he couldn't care less. your cunt’s so slippery, slickly gluing against his hairy base that piercingly pap! pap! paps! right into both twirling globes of your ass.

the sounds of repeated smacking flesh pitched louder and louder as both bodies rutted into each other. the bedroom filled with harmonies of rough slaps and groans, as well as your added whimper and whines from how good toji was plowing you into the shared king-sized bed. toji’s a menace when it came to his hips though.

he does this thing where he stuffs you all the way full with one single thrust….then pulls out… then back in…then back fuckin’ out..

“mhm- good…good, goooood,” his voice lowers, and so did his angle. toji’s cock had a bit of lean, lazy hook and it’s just sexy. it’s noticeable curve forever made itself known by just doing a single shimmy with his wide hips. from top to bottom of his cock that’s prodding with lightening shaped veins all over, he’s insanely big. “hah- look at that cute ass jus’ bouncin’ all on me. goddamn, babygi- fuck.”

toji even arched his back too, combing a few thickset fingers through his murky dark strands before feeling his dick swell up from the creamed top. he’s close, and with how good you were gripping around him, it wasn’t helping things much at all.

your insides were so gluey, sticking against him like pasty adhesive, determined to wring around him like the lewdest vice imaginable. “goddamn-” he groans, thin nostrils immediately flaring.

your pussy’s grip was ruthless - you squeezed and squeezed and squeezed, hearing toji’s grumbles huff underneath his breath. “ ‘m gonna make this tummy so nice ‘n plump,” he grouses, ravened brows curling together. vein after vein throbbing through his cock as he’s deepening his hits, giving the back of your tank top a firm grasp. you fall back into his cock at the pull, moaning and sweetly ‘ooh!’ ing at each jackhammering hit of his cock.

“mmgh- cum in me, toji,” you whimper, rocking your body against the dingy sage sheets with no shame. your body’s all slumped, humping against the bed with the front of your body as your right cheek pressed into the mattress.

toji’s buried to the very hilt, and his burning-up crown alone even started french kissing your cervix, dozens of times too. it’s indisputably sloppy, and you let off a gasp once you feel him swirling his stout tip alllll around your gummy insides, tap tap tapping against that beloved spongey texture. “don’t miss, f- fuck.”

“hah- with an arch like that, y’er askin’ for at quadruplets,” and his hips brutally snap into you. for a second, toji’s cock leaves you brain dead with the cause before his heavy, life-altering shaft. that exact spot that feels a bit bumpy, his tip rams against it and it scratches the left lobe of your brain so good. toji snickers, hearing you left off a pornographic ‘aaaah!’ at the abrupt discovered pressure. “ngh- better take it all then, don’t waste a fuckin’ drop, girl.”

it happens with such quickness—toji’s lowly growls, his husky orgasm sounding more like a gruff pitching battle cry. he’s slowing his hips before holding your wobbly hips in place. right as he’s cumming in you, toji’s burly body presses against your backside. you could feel him still grinding, although it’s a bit more weak.

“ugh- fillin’ you so well gotta getcha niiiice ‘n round f’m again. can’t leave my pretty mama without a.. hah- fill,” and it starts to pour deep inside. it oozes inside of your cunt, and it flows out so quickly that some even start to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. pretty, sloppy squelches could be heard from the occurring mess and toji dryly swallows. “mhm- she’s as nasty as you, babygirl. look at her swallowin’ it all up. so good.”

“tooooji,” you’d whimper, gasping once you felt a big thumb snail its way down your sopping pussy. wads of cum race down your thighs, and with a sloshing wet pop, toji pulls out his cock that was frothing from the velvet-reddened tip. he grunts, admiring your ass that still had itself raised, and he then leans down. toji inches his face toward your backside, using two wide hands to spread your ass apart.

“haaaah,” he pants against your dripping cunt, rolling out his tongue. you whimpered, clicking your teeth together once he starts to lap up the globs cum that was spilling down your thighs. it’s a loud sluuuurp! from toji’s mouth that gives you butterflies, but he then gives your clit a sweet munch with both pairs of lips.

toji rubs his lip scar against your pulsating cunt before snickering against your entrance, cleaning up his cum that glistened down your poor, aching slit that’s just so overflooded. “mhm- keep this arch, pretty girl. ‘m fuckin’ starved,” toji spits against your slick-covered heat before allowing the sheeny strings to land flat on his rolled out tongue.

“…and this cute pussy’s just askin’ to be devoured, heh..”

INO ★ TAKUMA.

“back… shots?” ino lets out a tremulous short breath, nearly drooling at the prurient sight of you arching over the armrest of the couch.

you were so breathtaking, even in such an erotic hunched-over position—face up ‘n pretty ass down. just to top it all off though, your pulled-to-the-side-panties that exposed your flooded dripping pussy only made things ten times worse. you even dared to sprightly throw your hips around in a circle, hearing a cute needy whine pull leave from ino’s lap. “o- okay, i can- i can do backshots.”

“don’t be scared, ino,” you hush in a sweet coaxing tone, your voice as smooth as silk. all types of warmth lingered on your tone. he’d probably cum just from listening to you speak if he wasn’t too careful. reaching a thumb from behind you, you drag a plump thumb down your puffed slit. soaked right away, ino watches before bringing the flushed crownhead of his cock towards your wet fluttering slit. it’s so wet—just aptly pouring with syrupy slick from the sides, the corners, hell- even the inner wet crevices…

ino felt his heart pounding, and he was holding back a moan once his plump cockhead swirls a circle around your swallowing entrance. you moan, arching more before humming. “mhm- like that. now fuck me, baby. fuck m-”

and oh- he does.

ino was a very quick learner because, within no time, you found yourself arched right over with his capped tip being greedily swallowed by your famished entrance.

ino’s so frantic - and it’s almost cute how he had no literal rhythm. he’s getting lost in your pussy—but after a few sloppy starting thrusts, he surprisingly locates every tender spot like it's nothing. you shudder as your hips start to rise, feeling a few wet droplets splat against your arched backside and oh, he’s really drooling now..

his breaths turn from steady to heavy within seconds, and he’s just hypnotized at how pretty your cunt took in all the turgid inches of his shaft. “s- sorry, can’t help it,” he meekly apologizes, wiping a hairy arm over his spit-glossed lips. his hands awkwardly grip your ass before you feel him swipe a slender digit toward your neglected hole.

“oooh,” he whimpers to himself, plugging it with the entirety of his stubby thumb. with his buttoned nose cutely wrinkling at the sensations of being full from both orifices, you whine out his name thrice. sweet repeated chants of ‘ino!’ ‘inooo!’ or ‘iiii-noooo!’ and it’s so melodic to ino, in a salacious way at least.

your cunt dewily clenches at him toying with your slick hole, and he pulls out his thumb before groaning. “god- ‘s no fair, baby,” and he’s still clinging onto your bouncing hips, staring as your ass starts to fuck back into him. speaking of toys, he couldn’t help but moan at how you rewinded your hips back into him oh-so perfectly.

it was like your entire waist was controlled, and ino’s grabbing at the plump cheeks of your ass at every moment he could. the slaps of skin were so loud, and they echoed through every cornering wall in the dimly lit bedroom. “don’t even…hah- know what ‘ta do with all this ass. phew- think ‘m gonna… faint.”

“don’t be dramatic, ino,” you skewed your hips around his cock, swallowing in a deep breath at the overly thick tummy-tucking stretch that surprises your pussy. he’s just big - rummaging through every important part of your guts before slap! you’re met with a stony coarse wham that makes your tongue flop out on his own. “f- fuck, right there. keep hittin’ that spot, oh- fuck!”

ino’s already in love… and, your hips were a smooth talker, if anything.

the way you moved and perfectly corresponded to him, he’s getting teary. it feels so damn good, the familiar tightening of his balls makes him nearly choke on an incoming exhale as he watches you throw back against him.

it was almost comical—you wanted to try backshots, and ino could barely keep up with your pace because technically speaking, you were fucking him. “god- baby, ‘m gonna cum. can’t.. can’t hold it, lemme finish inside pleaseplease,” and as he’s babbling, you could hear him sniffling.

your pussy was so good that it had him choking on his own words, stammering clumsily over every whiny syllable. ino’s hands never leave your hips, and he swats a few palms at your doughy ass that jerks right into him before sighing. you’re so stuffed already, but the thought of him dumping such a hot, buttery batch of cum inside you had you humming in longing contempt. “mhm- tell me, baby. your pussy’s gonna f- fuckin’ kill me, hah-”

“insiiiide, do it,” you whine, slightly raising your hips. god- the view, your slick twitching cunt had ino hearing his whole heartbeat through his ears. he was damn near mesmerized, and his tip was just weeping at the constant tender rubbing it was creating against your clit. your entrance slicked against him like velcro, and ino’s jaw was already clenching at the clingy sensation.

with of few more pops of his weak hips, ino eventually does cum - and it’s a lot.

a knot of, gooey fresh cum shoots right into you, quickly traveling through your insides. ino whines way louder than you, and he falls flat against your back. “ugh- baby,” he grunts, his voice cracking as soon as he falls into your embrace. it’s hot, and you moan once he continues to spurt thin ribbons straight deep into your womb. timid, soppily hands suffered with insane amounts of sweat before you felt his palms all around your body. even with ino still rawly pumping into you, he’s running his hands up and down the curvature of your waist—stopping at your ass, his favorite.

squelches ‘n squelches galore..

his softened cock remained plugging you full with all of its might—feeling your dribbling cunt tighten around the entirety of his length. it takes him a good while before he’s finally emptied his entire load, giving himself a subtle shake to make sure it’s all deep inside of you. “good boy,” you quietly hum, rolling over, swiping a thumb down your flooded cunt. ino pants, flopping onto your chest and he looks so in love. his face was flushing the more he deeply stared at you, and your eyes widened once you realized ino’s slowly pushing the crowns of your knees up to your chest. “hah- ino?”

“ ‘m not done,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your quivering lips. he moans at the soft prod of your tongue brushing against his before his pearly-colored tip whacks against your pussy that’s still spitting out tiny clumps of his cum.

“one more round. need t- to claim these walls before i claim your heart first, baby.”

[strawberrydolly333]

POV: rafe lets his girl do a bump

18+ only, drug usage, mean!rafe, heavy making out

"rafey cmon! just once please??" you whined, latching onto your boyfriend's arm as he was neatly lining up the white substance into thin lines with his black american express card.

"i dunno kid. you seem pretty busy with your vodka cranberry drink" he grumbled as he eyed the drink in your hand that you were spilling all over the carpet. "kid. you're making a mess knock it off" he said sternly, yanking your arm off as he leaned down towards the glass table and snorted up a line with a rolled up hundred dollar bill.

you pouted, clearly annoyed that he wasn't letting you do a bump. you sat your drink down on the table, slumping into the couch with your arms crossed. "don't like you anymore..." you muttered under your breath.

rafe gave you a look before grabbing onto your face harshly and squeezing your cheeks together "what was that?" he asked, eyes narrowing as he was not in the mood to put up with your shit tonight. "you don't like me? all because you're not getting a bump?" he scoffed, amused by your attitude.

"c'mere" he said grabbing you by the wrist and making you sit on his lap. "you wanna be a coke whore? you wanna get mad at me and say that 'you don't like me' and shit?" he mocked as he saw the teary eyes forming on your face.

"open your fucking mouth kid" he said, grabbing a small amount of coke with his finger and smearing it onto your gums. you let the drug do its work as you felt your brain turning into mush, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

you giggled, clearly no longer upset as you grabbed rafe's face and leaned in, giving him a deep kiss. you felt him smirk between your lips as his hands guided your waist. you let out a whine as you felt his tongue slide into your mouth.

"yeah? you happy now baby?" he asked, feeling you crumble against him.

you let out a moan as you began to grind on his lap, leaving a wet stain on his pants "rafeyyy i love it so much iloveyou!!" you whined as you started going down to his neck, sucking on his skin and leaving love bites.

he grabbed the fats of your ass, squeezing it before giving it a slap "yeah baby that's what i fucking thought" he purred out, smirking at how you're grinding on his lap and leaving that wet stain.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖: 𝕌𝕟𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕

𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: age gap, swearing, older!rafe, drinking, reader is a senior in college, choking, unprotected p in v, kissing, handjob, cum play, spit kink, bathtub sex, changing positions, soft!rafe

📖 based on an ask from @starkeysprincess : ooo ok ok for kinkmas what about college!reader who babysits single dilf!rafe’s kids & she’s stressed cause of finals coming up (totally not self indulgent hehe) and he helps her destress 🩷

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

You sit cross-legged on Rafe’s plush leather couch: textbooks, sticky notes, pens, and crumpled flashcards littered on the marble coffee table. You blink fast, widening your eyes the next moment, trying to stay awake and on task, willing your eyes to stay open.

Your eyes flicker to the baby monitor, watching Mr. Cameron’s daughter, Winnie, fast asleep. The camera pans over to the next bed, Rory doing the same. Throwing your head back, you breathe deeply, soaking in that little win. At least I have the kids under control.

The week before winter break was always brutal, but this semester felt next to impossible between tests and papers. Five finals in three days…

You tear your planner out of your backpack, jotting down a new study schedule, feeling the pen tremble in your hand—watching the ink scribble and stray from the regular pattern.

I haven’t slept well in days… My stomach has been in knots, my muscles aching, and my head pounding. This week can’t end soon enough.

Shit. Your phone glows with a new notification, but the time catches your eye. Midnight… I still have a couple of hours left, at least. You pull your laptop, open the essay that you have been working on, and check the page count. “Fifteen pages… Twenty-page minimum… What the hell,” you whisper, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

A lump forms in the back of your throat. You swallow hard, refusing to let the tears burning in your eyes spill over. It’s just school. It’s only school… Don’t break down. Not here… Not in his house.

The front door clicks open, jarring you from your thoughts. Your body freezes, fingers quickly lifting to your waterline to clear any tears that dare break. Rafe Cameron… Kook King and Kildare royalty. The man who somehow manages to be intimidating, yet incredibly charming. He’s devastatingly handsome… Fuck, he’s so hot.

Your pulse quickens as you hear his designer loafers shuffle down the hall, echoing through the foyer. Mr. Cameron darkens the doorway a moment later, loosening his tie with one hand and checking his phone with the other.

His toffee-colored hair is tousled— not as sleek as when he left. His large biceps are hugged with a crisp white button-down shirt; suit pants snug enough to show you just how fit he is. “Y/n,” he greets you warmly, lighting up at the sight of you. “How were they?”

"They were great," you manage to say, voice wavering slightly with nerves. “Uhh-Umm… They fell asleep right on time. Rory’s jammies are on backward. He said, ‘The buttons push on his tummy.’ I tried, I swear,” you laugh lightly.

“I know you did,” he smiles as he nods and scratches his five o’clock shadow. His gaze lingers a little longer than usual. “What about you? Are you okay? You look…" he pauses, choosing his words carefully, “… a little stressed. I hope you don’t take that the wrong way. You look beautiful, just stressed.”

Your cheeks warm up at his compliment and his attention; Rafe’s focus never falters. Yours does as your heart flips, your gaze taking refuge in the mess before you to ease the tension, embarrassment quickly filling its place. “Just finals,” you say with a weak laugh. “Five exams in three days. I still have to drive back to campus. I need a shower… And, I have to study… a lot, a lot.”

Rafe’s eyebrows pinch together—his muscular arms cross over his strong chest, the man leaning casually into the doorframe. “You goin’ all the way back to campus?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be alright… I babysit for the Thorntons on a date night and always drive back super late…”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking back at you. "You don't have to," he responds. "Drive back, that is. You can stay here if you’d like if you’re more of a morning person. You can stay in one of the guest bedrooms, watch TV, study, and shower. Or, you can just sleep… Fuck, you look like you’ve been workin’ way, way too hard.”

Your lashes flutter at his offer. Stay the night? Here? You replay to his sweet words again. This place was luxurious… Rivaling any resort on Figure Eight—but this was Rafe Cameron’s house.

“I don’t want to impose,” you babble, catching him waiting for your answer.

”You wouldn’t be,” he tilts his head slightly as a smile plays on his pretty lips. “Seriously, I insist.”

Your shoulders unwind, the stress you were feeling lifting slightly just knowing that you could spend that extra time studying instead of driving; you could spend the night in a cozy bed instead of your cramped apartment. "I really appreciate it, Mr. Cameron,” you breathe.

“Please… Call me Rafe,” he encourages as he rolls up his shirt sleeves, heading toward the sink. ”Go on,” he drawls. “S’gettin’ late. There are two rooms at the end of the hall. You can pick whichever one you’d like.”

You gather your things and head upstairs, your heart still racing. Reaching the end of the hall, you look both ways; each room equally stunning. You glance back at the first option, catching a glimpse of a large bathtub in the mirror.

Shutting the door, you discard your belongings on the bed and quickly undress. You stroll over to the tub, running a bath, adding a heavy spoon of lavender-scented bath salts. As soon as it hits the water, the smell swirls with the steam, wafting around you. You sink into the bubbles, letting out a sigh of pure bliss.

Your body relaxes for the first time in days, melting into the tub.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

”Y/n?” Rafe calls for you from behind the door, his voice husky and deep. “Do you need anything to eat? I should have asked earlier. I apologize.”

Your heart pounds in your chest just knowing he’s outside the door. “I’m fine. Thank you,” you respond sweetly, tucking your lip between your teeth, a part of you wishing you would have said ‘yes’ so he would’ve come back.

”A drink?” He asks. “Wine?”

Your cheeks burn from your giddy smile at the offer. “Wine sounds great. Thank you.”

A few minutes later, there’s another knock. Rafe cracks open the door, his large hand wrapped around the glass, setting it gently on the marble counter, his handsome face still hidden behind the door.

“You can come in,” you call. The door moves fast, then slow, creaking open. Rafe steps inside with a bottle of red wine in hand. Maybe he was hoping for this all along? Perhaps he was just going to set it down on the nightstand?

Rafe walks over, his steps smooth and deliberate, resting the glass in your hand. You lift it to your lips, smiling before sipping, relishing the taste for a moment before letting out a dreamy ‘thank you.’

“You work too hard,” he says softly as he walks away, leaning back into the counter. He looks back at you; genuine concern painted all over his face as well as a glow of admiration.

Your lips draw to the side, nodding in reply, but your mind is clouded with Rafe’s praise so that you can think of a reply.

“Feels good?” He asks, and you nod, your wide, doll-like eyes drawn to the devastatingly handsome man. “You like that?” He asks as he steps closer, gesturing to the bath.

“Yeah,” you smile as you look up at him.

“You can stay over anytime you’d like, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as you tilt toward him. “I’d like that.”

Rafe leans down, lowering himself eye-level with you, his beautiful blue eyes dancing at the waterline, your gorgeous breasts half-hidden under the suds. “You should take more breaks, princess. “It’d be good for you-” Acting before your mind, you grab his shirt and tie, tugging him closer, his lips finding yours for a deep kiss. Your heart races as he deepens the exchange, pulling you closer, causing the water to slosh out of the tub onto his white shirt.

You gasp in surprise, looking down at his muscular body, the white linen clinging to his skin. You race for his buttons; and Rafe for his tie between messy kisses and panting breaths. Your eyes widen as he takes off more and more clothes, tossing them messily to the floor; the air charged between the two of you sparks flying when your lips meet again.

”This okay, princess?” He pants hungrily between kisses.

“Yeah,” you mumble, sucking on his tongue before swirling yours.

“What do you need from me, baby? Tell me what you need.”

“You… Just you, Rafe,” you whimper, feeling as he smiles against your lips. Your fingers stroke the underside of his thick cock, making him moan into his mouth; his breaths choppy as you wrap your fingers around him, rubbing with the cadence of your kiss. Your fingertips ghost over his swollen tip, making him seethe through his teeth before biting your lip.

“M’gonna make you feel good, sweetheart. Yeah? I’m gonna help you relax. But you need to tell me what you want from me” he groans as your other hand cups his balls, rolling slowly.

His abs muscles flex as you toy with his cock, the older man bucking into your hand as he bites his lip. Your eyes widen at the sight of him—finding yourself at a complete loss for words seeing him like this.

Rafe’s fingers tighten on the tub's edge, knuckles turning white. The blood in his cock starts to pump harder as he moves closer and closer to his climax.

The blues of his eyes start to fall, lids growing heavy as his breathing grows deeper. “Let me see your face, pretty,” Rafe pants, cupping your chin with one hand, fisting his dick with the next. You open your mouth, not sure where he wants it, body buzzing from the low rumbles of his moans and praise. “Fuck,” the word falls from his lips as you feel his warm cum land in ropes on your cheeks, lips, and tongue. “Look at you… Shit,” he groans.

Rafe doesn’t loosen his hold, moving closer instead, gliding his warm tongue along your skin, cleaning up your face, keeping your lips popped open with his grasp, but you wouldn’t dare close it. He spits in your mouth; his climax landing on your tongue. “Swallow it, baby,” he whispers against your lips, gentle yet commanding, sending chills down your spine.

Before you can’t think, Rafe moves you through the water, resting you on his lap to face him, chest to chest. Your hands rest on his broad body, the two of you breathing rapidly together. Rafe reaches for you, wrapping his big arms around your waist—lips latching onto the sensitive spot on your neck.

“Fuck me, Rafe…” Those are the only three words he needed to hear, pulling you exactly where he wants you again. You hold your breath, swathing your arms around his neck, nails clawing into his massive shoulders as you bury yourself in his neck, whimpering as you take every inch.

“Just like that… Just like that, princess,” Rafe huffs, tossing his heavy head back at the feeling of you. You rest your hand on your stomach, feeling him deep. “And look at you takin’ it all, baby,” he drawls as he takes his turn nestling himself in you, taking a hold of your hips to urge you to rock against him.

Water starts to move around you, crashing against the back of the bath; rolling over the edge. "That's a good girl,” he moans as you tighten your walls around him, moving at a slightly quicker pace.

Rafe raises his hand, wrapping his ringed fingers around your throat, squeezing before pulling you to his lips. The two of you start moving with each other as the pressure builds inside, just seconds away from coming undone in each other's arms.

”Bounce for me,” he mumbles as his gaze falls just like before, eyes stealing glances as your plush tits move, soaked in soapy water.

Rafe hands sneak up your back, cupping the tops of your shoulders, shifting himself on top. You cry out in pleasure, voice bouncing off the walls of the bathroom as he fucks his dick deep.

”Cum for me,” he whispers, and you do. Your perfect pussy fluttering around his throbbing dick as he empties himself deep, filling your cunt with his cum. Your body becomes one with the water and him, lips mirroring his as you come down from your highs together.

“Two more nights, princess…” He pants between passionate kisses. “You’re comin’ back here tomorrow night… N’we’re doing this again. Promise me… I just want to take care of you…”

You smile against his lips, living in the afterglow of your pleasure. “I promise.”

[yaniluvs]

going back to you 日 ── your tired boyfriend returns home after a long schedule, wanting nothing else but to be close to his lover.

𓍯 idolbf!han ʚଓ gn!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 0.8k ── ༯ DRABBLE, fluff, humour, flirting, cuddles, kisses, cutesy, req. by anon! ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY. /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖ ˙ ᰋ haha see what i did? with the title? i'm so creative..? you're a boomer if you don't get it i don't make the rules SORRY. my hannie i love you sm. my first gender-neutral-reader fic !! written in second pov. (not my usual writing pov., but oh well !) how have you been doing? a little domestic fluff to make you smile >< thank you anon for the request, hope you like it !! comments, requests, asks, likes, follows and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

the apartment was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of string lights you’d insisted on hanging months ago. the scent of your vanilla candle lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth of home.

his home.

jisung trudged through the door, dropping his bag with a thud and kicking off his sneakers without care for where they landed. his hoodie hung loosely off his frame, his face buried in its collar to stave off the cold he'd carried in with him.

“baby?” his voice was tired, scratchy.

you popped your head out of the kitchen, spatula in hand. “you’re home! i made—”

he didn’t let you finish, crossing the distance between you in three long strides to wrap his arms tightly around your waist.

the flour-coated spatula clattered to the counter as you instinctively looped your arms around his neck.

“rough day?” you murmured, your chin resting atop his shoulder.

“you have no idea,” he groaned, voice muffled against your hoodie. “just let me stand here. let me hold you. please.”

“the cookies aren't gonna bake themselves,” you teased lightly, brushing a hand through his messy, slightly damp hair. “but i’m all yours.”

his grip tightened, and you felt the deep sigh he released against your neck. “sorry.. i just, missed you so badly today. you have no idea how much.”

you pulled back slightly to cup his face, your thumbs brushing the dark crescents under his eyes. “talk to me?”

he shook his head, lips pouting slightly. “later. i just wanna be with you right now. can we cuddle?”

“you didn’t even eat—”

“don’t care.” he tilted his head, his lips brushing the curve of your thumb before pressing a soft kiss there. “babe. please.”

you melted. because of course you did. you always did when it came to him.

“fine,” you relented, threading your fingers through his as you led him to the couch.

he didn’t let go of your hand, not even as you tried to sit. instead, he pulled you down on top of him, sprawling across the cushions with you practically cocooned in his arms.

“jisung,” you laughed, “i’m going to crush you.”

“crush away,” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “this is exactly what i needed.”

“you’re like a koala,” you teased, although your heart fluttered at how tightly he was holding you, like you might disappear if he let go.

“and this koala hasn't seen you all day. he's in withdrawal.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t move, instead running your fingers gently through his hair. he sighed contentedly, his body relaxing against yours.

for a moment, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of his breathing and the quiet hum of the city outside. however-

“do you know how channie hyung made me rewrite my rap three times?” jisung grumbled, his nose still pressed into your neck.

“did he now?”

“three times, yeah! and then minho hyung told me it sounded fine the first time.”

“of course, you're minho's baby,” you huffed sarcastically, unable to hold back a smile.

“god forbid a man is loveable-”

you giggled, brushing your lips against the top of his head. “okay, but you're my boyfriend first.”

“i am,” he replied, tilting his head up to look at you with a pout. “and you know what i really need right now?”

“what?”

“a kiss.”

you raised a brow. “just one?”

he grinned, boyish and soft, his eyes sparkling despite his earlier exhaustion. “okay, maybe, like, twenty. or a hundred. start anywhere you want. i’m not picky.”

you giggled, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips. he hummed happily, his hands finding your waist and squeezing gently.

“more,” he mumbled against your lips, pulling you closer.

“someone’s greedy,” you teased, but you kissed him again. and again. soft, slow, like the world outside had paused just for you two.

“i missed this,” he whispered between kisses, his voice barely audible. “missed you. you’re my favorite place, love. my home.”

your chest ached, and you held his face in your hands, kissing his forehead, his nose, the mole under his eye that you adored. “you’re mine too, you know.”

he smiled, bright and blinding, his fingers drawing little patterns on your back. “good. because i’m not going anywhere. ever. you’re stuck with me.”

“oh no,” you deadpanned, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “whatever will i do?”

“give me more kisses, for starters,” he quipped, leaning up to steal another from you.

hours passed like that, tangled up together in warmth and love, the troubles of the day forgotten in the safety of each other. and as he drifted off, his head tucked against your chest and your fingers playing with his hair, you pressed one last kiss to his temple, whispering the words you knew he loved to hear.

“i love you, sung. always.”

his lips curved into a sleepy smile. “love you too, baby. forever.”

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger

[bbyseok]

at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!

a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!

content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts

analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.

here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.

with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!

and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.

to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)

it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?

your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.

coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.

because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.

it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.

nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.

well. except for one.

gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.

even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.

his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.

after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.

satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.

“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.

gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.

you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.

that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.

satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.

but you simply smiled up at him.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.

gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.

how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.

gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?

and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.

as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.

and never will.

your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.

and that he doesn’t like you.

it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.

okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.

you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.

besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.

you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.

“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.

“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)

nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”

you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”

nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”

“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.

you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.

“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.

nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.

gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.

you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.

does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.

your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.

his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”

who knows, indeed.

megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.

“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.

the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”

satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.

meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”

“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.

his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.

“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”

megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”

“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”

despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)

your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.

there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.

“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.

as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”

the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”

“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.

you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”

“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.

(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)

you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.

“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”

you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.

a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.

the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)

after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.

“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”

megumi hums.

“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”

his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”

you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.

“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”

“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”

she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?

“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”

you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.

but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”

you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”

she shrugs again. “your call.”

your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”

shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”

oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.

shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.

“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?

as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!

ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.

well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.

“he���s on a mission where??”

you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.

“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.

the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”

you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.

it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)

either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.

you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.

(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)

gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.

while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”

it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.

and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.

“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”

his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”

gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”

your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”

he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”

you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)

“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”

the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).

he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.

“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.

“gojo satoru.”

your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.

against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.

though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.

but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.

like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.

“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.

“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”

“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.

“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.

just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.

“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.

you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”

“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.

you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.

satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.

but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.

when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.

he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.

it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)

“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”

he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)

“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.

he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”

“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”

(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.

it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.

it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”

and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.

“yeah, we are.”

this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.

but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.

and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.

was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.

the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)

fuck.

after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..

it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.

once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”

you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.

“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”

the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”

shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.

but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)

“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.

“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.

he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”

you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”

his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”

you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”

gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.

eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.

“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.

you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”

“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.

(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)

and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.

“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.

“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”

he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”

pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)

“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”

he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.

“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.

before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.

“d’you have a soulmate?”

satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.

and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?

before he can answer, you’re out like a light.

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.

you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.

you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.

gojo.

you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.

after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.

you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.

he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.

you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”

you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.

when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.

he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.

you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)

“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”

satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”

(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)

“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”

you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.

(he does too.)

satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”

“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”

oh.

fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”

“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.

keep saying his name.

“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.

“heh, i guess i am.”

you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.

(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)

you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.

shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.

but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.

he’s wearing his glasses.

you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.

how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-

and then he’s gone.

you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.

he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.

“what the fuck was that?”

shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.

there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.

and you don’t know why.

it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.

satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.

and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.

then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?

however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.

is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?

satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.

“hey, what was that the other day?”

shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.

gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”

shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”

that’s the thing. you just might.

the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”

when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”

satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran that night. just my glasses was too risky.”

what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.

“how long have you-”

“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”

the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.

“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.

satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”

“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)

and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.

ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.

it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.

what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.

a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-

you.

something’s not right.

and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.

fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.

it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.

you’re going to die.

you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.

the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.

your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.

satoru?

you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.

“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”

“satoru, we need to head back.”

he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”

he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.

the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—

“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.

“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.

“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.

“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”

“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.

he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”

you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”

“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,

“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.

then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.

he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.

“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”

“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.

gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily, “please.”

still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.

“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”

your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.

“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”

your confession has him stilling.

(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)

his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-

he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.

his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.

the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.

and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.

he’s kissing you.

he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.

and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.

you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-

suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.

less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.

“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.

“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”

his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.

your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”

“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”

his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,

the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.

as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.

your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.

“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.

you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.

so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.

that’s okay.

cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.

shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”

“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)

he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.

(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)

“‘toru, not here!”

nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”

TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen

+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3

like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 3 is up! scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.1

christmas special

next part

summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : suggestive comments! dual pov! swearing! hope you like this!! comment to be on tag list <3

words : 2638

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Persistent knocking at the door forces me to pull myself off my nicely made bed and slump down the stairs. Max, Piertra and I are staying in a cabin for Christmas because our parents have decided to go to the beach.

It’s rustic and smells like cinnamon everywhere, the roof dusted with the snowfall from the night before. I hurry down the stairs in my airplane outfit because I haven’t even had time to unpack.

As soon as I rest my hand on the cold door knob and open it to see who’s waiting, I regret it. “Merry Christmas!” A smiling Lando Norris stares back at me, bags in hand and snow on his curls.

I slam the door in his face. I should have looked through the peephole, maybe he would have given up. “Max!” I yell, hearing the pattering of his feet on the hard wood and his head peaking out his door. “There’s a thing at the door for you.”

His face breaks into a grin as he runs down. He all but pushes me out of the way to get to his best friend, opening the door and hugging him.

I roll my eyes and start to walk away but Lando’s voice rings out behind me, “Welcoming as always, sunshine.” That fucking nickname makes me turn, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of meeting my eyes.

“Max, I thought you said we ordered pizza, not your childhood best friend.” Max gives me a look which makes me cross my arms. He never understood my hatred for Lando, probably because he was the one pissing me off with him.

Yet I think he’s grateful that I stay as far away as possible. Still, Karma is real and Max’s nightmare is having his baby sister even close to his reckless friend, that’s why Lando takes every opportunity to flirt with me.

“Play nice, Y/n. It’s Christmas, you know, kindness and joy?” I narrow my eyes at Lando who steps inside and shakes off the snow on Max, “We’re spending this as a group! A group that loves each other!” My brother pushes him away, shutting the door to block the cold air.

Lando blows me a kiss as P comes around the corner, Max leaving Lando for his girlfriend, “Lando, you’re here!” the traitor says as Max hugs her from behind, “Come in! I’m making hot chocolate!”

⋆༺

Lando Norris and I have never been best friends. He saw me purely as his best friend's little sister and someone to annoy. I saw him as my brother's annoying friend who was constantly in my way.

Or I guess I should say ‘see’ instead of ‘saw’ because our childhood banter has continued through to adulthood. I can’t stand him, he’s cocky and annoying. I don’t know why he flirts with me, maybe it’s partly to annoy me and partly to get to my brother who yells at him anytime he so much as calls me pretty.

I like to think I'm more mature than my thirteen year old self who would scream at Lando for tying my shoes together, but as Lando makes an absurd amount of noise in the room adjacent to mine, I can’t help but slam my hand on our connecting doors.

We arrived at night so I was in bed quickly after dinner. I wish I was warm and cozy in my bed, but Lando blinks at me innocently after opening the door.

My eyes betray me when they leave his face and look at what he’s wearing. Or what he’s not wearing… Shirtless and in sweats, Lando looks all too smug.

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Can you stop checking me out? I’m on facetime.” He holds up his phone to show a dark screen, I can make out the sleepy face of Carlos Sainz. I push his phone back down, a bit embarrassed in my quadrant hoodie.

“Just keep it down, Norris. Can’t you and your boyfriend catch up later, like in daylight?”

That devious smirk makes its way back on his face, “Jealous, Sunshine?” That fucking nickname makes me roll my eyes, “I heard about the breakup… I feel horrible for him. Seemed like a nice guy.”

I grind my teeth together at the mention of my ex. How does he even know!? That was months ago. “Like you’re one to talk, losing the championship couldn’t have been good for your dick.”

His brow quirks at me playing back, “How often do you think about my dick, Sunshine?”

I put on my best sweet smile, my hand on the door, “When i’m in bed…” he leans closer, nodding, “Alone…” his brow raises and It makes my smile grow, “Getting sick at the idea and the alcohol in my system.”

His face drops as he stands straighter, “Why do you insist on lying to yourself? It’s not a good habit.”

“Why do you insist on being an asshole? Go to sleep.” I shut the door, giving him no choice but to back up quickly into his room.

“Sweet dreams, sunny!” He calls as I sigh and get back into bed, hoping for a good night's sleep and my headache to go away.

⋆༺

lando

Max makes me get up early so we can get breakfast before all the menus switch. I’m pushed out the door with Y/n by my side, her hair curled and looking far too put together for this early.

She has on jeans, a sweater, and a light blue puffer jacket over. Although she looks put together, I realize she’s just as tired as I am when I accidentally nudge her while walking to the car.

She pushes me back roughly as if it was my intent to touch her. Max and P are holding hands and walking ahead of us, so he doesn’t see his sister harassing me.

“Hey!” I’m lucky I didn’t slip because of my hands firmly in my jacket’s pockets. I feel like a marshmallow, I'm fully covered from a beanie on my head to seven layers and boots on my feet.

I go to push her back but the look she gives me reminds me that I know better. “What’s got you in such a good mood today, sunshine?”

She eyes me when I say the nickname I started calling her at fifteen. “I didn’t sleep.”

“I slept extremely well. Nice dreams too.” She rolls her eyes and opens the car door, the two of us sitting in the back while Max drives.

“I’m so happy for you.” She says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She leans her head against the window, her breath showing on the glass.

“Wanna know what I dreamt about?” I smirk, clicking my seatbelt as she doesn’t move. “I’ll give you a hint.”

She looks at me, her cheek squished against the window that I know is freezing. “Would you like my foot up your ass?”

I ignore her, “You were there.” Max and P turn on the radio as we leave the driveway, speaking quickly about something and definitely not paying attention to us. “It was really hot… complete opposite of the snow. We had to strip.”

I’m leaning in closer, just in case. I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by her brother today. “Sounds like it was a dream for a reason.” Y/n blinks, pulling my seatbelt back so it locks and I have no choice but to sit back in my seat.

God she’s hot.

⋆༺

We spend most of the day looking around the town, peeking into shops and going to the grocery store. We end up at a christmas tree farm about thirty minutes away from our house.

“I feel like I'm in a hallmark movie.” I think that should be a bad thing but they are my guilty pleasure. P and I wander down each row of trees, hot chocolate in hand and the boys arguing behind us.

“I’m so glad we’re here!” the blonde squeals next to me, “I know you don’t love Lando but he’s still fun. Plus no one should be alone on christmas!”

I raise a brow, “Why would he be alone?” I never really wondered why Lando was with us, but now I realize that it probably wasn’t just to fuck up my own holiday.

She shrugs and keeps looking for trees, talking about our plans to ski and snowboard tomorrow and yelling at Max to remember to find gingerbread houses.

“This one is perfect!” Lando runs up to the biggest tree in the lot, he looks extra small next to it.

“There’s no way we’re getting that in the house.” I say, crossing my arms and watching Lando shake his head vigorously.

One thing about Lando is that once he knows he wants something, he sets his mind to it in an almost urgent fashion.

“Have a little Christmas spirit, Sunshine.” he mumbles as he looks around the tree, then to a worker, “We’ll take it!”

“I’m not helping you two get that in the house.” P shakes her head as they start to drag the huge thing to the car.

As soon as they realize it won’t fit in our car, Lando pays a random man who has a truck to bring it to us. We’re back home soon after, Max going on about how he hopes our tree isn’t being stolen.

Our tree is thankfully not stolen and is outside our house when we get there. The man that helped us refuses the money and asks for a picture with Lando instead.

I’m very aware of Lando’s fame, but at moments like this, it’s still shocking. To me, he’s still the little shit who would beat me in karting and shove it in my face.

P and I sit on the couch eating cookies and making sure my phone is silenced while Lando and Max struggle with the tree for almost an hour. By the time it’s up, it’s dark and I'm hungry.

“I can’t reach!” I groan, standing on the side of the couch and trying to put ornaments higher up on the tree.

We’re a bit screwed considering the lot of us are quite short. I give up and just throw it up there, luckily it catches on a bit of green and stays there.

“Here.” Lando says to me, handing the star that we bought today at a local shop. “Try not to break it?”

I mimic him and stand on my tippy toes, trying to reach but being nowhere close. “Christ, Someone help her out.” Max cringes as he watches from his comfortable position on the couch.

I turn to him, “You could help, you know!”

P laughs, sucking on a candy cane and sorting through the decorations on the floor. I turn back to the tree and am taken severely off guard when Lando’s hands appear on my legs.

“Norris!” I scream as his head goes between my legs so I'm sitting on his shoulders. It’s an absolute ambush by a man in a too tight white shirt. “What are you doing!?” I grab onto his hair as he groans from me pulling it.

“It’s called a solution, Sunshine.” He stands up on the edge, wobbling a bit. I pull tighter but he retaliates by gripping my leg.

I roll my eyes and don’t dare look at P who I know has her phone out. Lando lifts me like it’s nothing, looking up at the top of the tree and seeing it far closer than it was.

I pop the star onto it and expect Lando to put me down but he just hops off the couch, “Norris, I swear-”

Max has a smile so big that my heart immediately starts beating faster. I can’t see Lando’s face but I know he’s smirking. “Don’t swear, it’s bad manners.”

“Right, cause you’re a great example of good manners.” I tug on his hair again and make him look up at me, he stops on the way to the front door. “Put me down.”

“Ask nicely.” Even from upside down he's hot. I let go of his hair but don’t accept defeat.

“Max, help!” I kick my feet against Lando as he opens the door, “Pietra!?”

I can’t see anything but the front yard, covered in snow. I’m freezing as soon as he steps out and I star fighting harder when I realize why Max is laughing so hard.

That’s when I start screaming. Our neighbors would probably think someone’s being murdered but this house is in the middle of nowhere!

“Norris! I’ll kill you!” I’m trying to get off but he’s just too damn strong, “Lando!” And then I go face first into four feet of soft snow.

I’m practically wrestling him by the time I get up, “I slipped! I slipped!” He yells as I shove his face into the snow. “Uncle!”

I’m laughing now, his face white and hair covered in snow, “Stop trying to murder my friend!” Max watches from the door, popping chips into his mouth as he lets us go at it.

I throw a snowball at my brother.

Lando takes my distracted position and throws a handful of snow in my mouth. I start coughing and slapping every part of him that I can. “Come back inside! You both are gonna get hypothermia.” P says from the door, wrapped in a blanket.

Lando stands up first, holding a hand out to me, a smirk on his face. I don’t take his hand, standing up on my own and pushing past him to walk inside.

Max messes with my hair as Lando shakes the snow from his curls on my brother like a dog. “Movie time!” P claps her hands together, “The grinch or elf?”

I groan, brushing my hands through my hair as Lando leans against the kitchen table, his arms flexing under the pressure and thoroughly distracting me.

“I hate elf.”

Lando’s jaw drops along with Max’s, “How can you hate elf!?” Max scoffs, “You are not my sister.”

“How can anybody hate elf!?” Lando shakes his head, “P, we’re watching elf.”

P laughs, “I’m a bit sick of the grinch, Y/n. Sorry.” Max puts his arm around P, shrugging and walking into the movie room.

Lando pushes off the table, swiping a blanket resting on a chair and handing it to me, “You look a bit pale, maybe you should warm up.”

I take the blanket, narrowing my eyes, “Is there going to be a sex joke after that?”

He puts his hand onto his chest, looking appalled, “I didn’t know you had such a dirty mind.”

I know he’s messing with me but I can’t help but play into it. “You don’t know a lot of things about me.”

“I’d like to know more. More that involves one of our rooms’ temperature going up and not because of the heater.” Cocky bastard.

I hum and start walking away, “Ah, there’s the sex joke.”

Lando follows behind me. I wish his mouth would stay shut but I know I'm not that lucky. “I know you’d like it.”

“You don’t know anything.”

He stops me before we get to the door where P and Max are behind. “Let me prove you wrong, then we’ll talk.” I knows he messing with me. I hate him for it.

He’s got that stupid smirk on his face, his eyes are soft, teasing, and darker in this light. His hands are in his pockets and that damn shirt is still tight against his biceps. Just because I hate him, doesn’t mean I can’t find him attractive.

I let out a breath, eyeing him one last time before pushing the door open, “Stick to me in your dreams, Lan.”

[ancha-aus]

DoubleNoot AU Drabble - Bright Morning

Welcome back to another installment! this time we see the start of a new day with our lovely family who suddenly aqcuired a child and will have to figure out how to take care of him. Now wiht a slightly less confused Nightmare.

Last Time on DoubleNoot Adventures! Corrupt spend a while thinking about what the new situations is as Nightmare slept peacefulyl next to him. His mates joined Corrupt before he could spiral.

*----------------------------------------------*

Nightmare hums sleepily. He is slightly confused. The ground is never this soft and he doesn't feel that branch poke him in the ribs. He also can't feel his mother or brother near but... he isn't alone.

Being alone means danger as that is when the villagers come to hurt him. To hurt him and punish him for everything that goes wrong in their lives. Nightmare is still not sure how he could have caused some of them to get sick or even die. But the villagers always say it is his fault so maybe it is?

But he isn't alone.

It is warm and comfortable and he hears others breathing nearby as he snuggles into whatever he is laying against. It is warm and just feels familiar.

He would love to keep sleeping for longer but he needs to wake up. He has the tree to protect and if Dream is already out it is a matter of time before they come.

He yawns as he rubs his sockets. He takes his time to stretch along the soft thing circling him. Before trying to sit up.

Keyword. Try.

Because he just.. can't get his limps do push himself up. He can't figure out how to make everything work and move... huh?

He opens his sockets and pauses. That... that is a ceiling? He never sleeps inside though? why is there a ceiling?

Nightmare looks around and spots the dark tentacle around him. Sees where it is lit up such a pretty cyan where he is touching it.

and he remembers.

remembers all about well... yesterday aparently.

Nightmare turns his skull to the other side and spots Corrupt. sound asleep and his tentacles all around. One is circling himself but the other three are all connected to those skeletons that Nightmare met the day before.

Right... Corrupt loved them a lot. Nightmare had held the adoration they all shared between one another. It was so deep and all consuming that Nightmare couldn't help but stare and watch the skeletons. How could monsters feel such strong emotions the whole time and just feel okay?

Nightmare shoots Corrupt another look and tilts his skull. Nightmare isn't sure why he trusts the other so much. He just. He could feel the honesty. the care. How could Nightmare not believe that honesty?

It makes it even stranger that Dream dislikes Corrupt so much. Drema should have felt the same right? felt that corrupt was honest and meant everything? that corrupt loved deeply? that... that when corrupt spoke about hurting Nightmare he only felt grief, regret and sad?

why would Dream not see that? He always saw the best in those villagers.

...

Seems like Dream can excuse the actual people hurting and killing him but someone stepping in to continue his duty is a step too far...

Nightmare's soul hurts with that thought but before he can even consider what to do the tentacle wraps tighter around him and Corrupt mutters unhappily as he pulls him closer.

He is embraced by all that love and care all over again and Nightmare guiltily leans fully into the hold. Trying to soak everything up. Even if it isn't meant for him.

Them inviting him to stay had been a shock. and Now that Nightmare had time to really think about it since just ending up on their couch. He is so lucky they are willing to let him stay. Especially as people tend to hate him.

He had tried so ahrd to be friendly and be right and normal. But it is so hard. Becuase Corrupt would just read him and help him feel easy and then Nightmare starts to pay attention to how Corrupt feels and it just... is nice. So nice and safe.

The other skeletons are... weird but nice he thinks. They are so different than the people he is used to.

Nightmare hears a yawn and stays frozen. That is the one with black tears. He is sitting up and yawning? BUt Ngihtmare thought this was Corrupt's room and-

Oh. Of course. they are like. together together. Wait are they married? Nightmare knows the villagers did a marriage thing but did corrupt marriage these four? wait can that many people marry one another?

Ngihtmare wishes Dream was here. Dream knew these type of things but well... Dream doesn't like Corrupt of the other skeletons aparently-

"oh shit- I mean hi."

Nightmare blinsk and looks up to see the one wiht black tears staring at him. Seemingly frozen met stretch as he stares at him.

Nightmare leans further intot he tentacle "... hi... Killer?" right?

Maybe Killer blinks before smilign brightly and laying back down. He pulls a pillow over and lays on it with his skull and they can just see each other over the edge "that is me." he grins "How was your first night here tiny nightlight?"

Nightmare searches for the right words. He can't jsut say this is the best sleep he has had for a long time. That he feels warm and nice and comfortable. That is weird... He only just got here. Nightmare realises he has been quiet for way to long and mutters a quick answer "It was nice."

Killer grins and nods "Yeah I know. Moon's bed is so comfy and nice." he sighs happily.

Nightmare frowns "Why do you call him that?" Corrupt's name is corrupt right? wait "why do you keep calling me nightlight. I am nightmare." he waits for him to talk about how his name is wrong or a bad omen or-

Killer snorts "yeah i know. but that is why nicknames are for little moondrop." he grins "I give nicknames to everyone. same for big guy."

Nightmare blinks but shoots the giant with the cracked skull a look. Horror right?

Killer grins and nods.

Ngihtmare looks away embarrassed. How did he notice his glance? Was he that obvious- no wait. didn't Corrupt say that they were all very observant? oh no they will realise something is wrong with him even quicker! What does he do?!

The tentacle tightens around him again as Killer makes soft hushing noises "ssh shsh it is okay. i know it is still strange. Everything is new and scary and we are a lot." he smiles "But you are you like Moon is moon. it will be okay."

Nightmare turns a bit clsoer to the tendril. feeling safe with a cyan light shining from it. he traces a few of the swirls and feels a bit better. They are connected. their magic works together. so even if he is weird they will accept him right? because the love Corrupt so much, and nightmare is connected to Corrupt in some way.

Or would they end up hating him because they fear he took power from him?

Killer sighs "Corrupt's magic is always so fucking pretty. Oh shit don't tell the others I cursed near you."

Ngihtmare shoots him a look and looks at the cyan himself "It is very pretty..." he likes cyan. It is a nice colour. Not like his ugly purple. Everyone agreed his magic was pale and seemed darker. Not shining like his brother had had. Dream had the most beautiful magic and Nightmare always wished his own had been more like Dream's.

Killer nods "It is gorgeous. The blue is so pretty and it is always atreat when he see it." he grins at him "Do you also have cyan?"

Nightmare freezes and shakes his skull. He doens't. No use to lie.

Killer looks excited "oh which colour is it?"

Ngihtamre shrugs before he mutters "it isn't pretty like Corrupt's." there. That should do it right? No need to pay attention to it. Maybe this way he doens't ever have to show it and can jsut enjoy the bright shine he helps bring out in Corrupt's magic!

Killer jsut looks excited "Oh i am sure it is pretty. like all magic is pretty." he grins.

Ngihtmare shurgs as he just lays further against Corrupt. feeling safe there. He is safe there. Corrupt promised he would be safe.

Kilelr frowns at him and Nightmare immediantly looks away. Oh no. Did... did he make a mistake by dodging the question? did he mess up? did... did refusing make him angry?

"hi." Ngihtmare can't help but flinch before feeling bad about doing that. Killer is speaking softly as he looks at him "it is okay... I am sorry if i pushed... my mates often tell me I can get too excited and I am not the best at noticing boundaries." he grins and winks with his tongue sticking out "you can just tell me to shut up or leave you alone okay? I get it. No hard feelings."

Ngihtmare jsut stares at the other. partly shock and partly disbelieve. really? he won't get mad if nightmare says no? or tells him to leave? Nightmare finds that hard to believe.

Suddenly a hand appears and tugs Killer's blanket over his skull. Killer yelps as Dust sits up wiht a yawn and annoyed look "You woke me Killer." and he pushes him over. He glances at Nightmare before frowning at Killer "And give him some space. he is still new."

Killer pouts at Dust "I am great to new people."

Dust looks unamused "I was new once. I disagree."

Ngihtmare watches them interact. They are talking and killer pouts and dust looks annoyed but neither actually feel sad or mad. Just. familiarity. This is normal? they always do this?

Dust looks at Ngihtmare "How did you sleep?"

Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters "it was nice." this answer worked last time.

Dust yawns "That is good. We thought maybe sleeping somewhere new woudl make it hard for you to rest."

see? it is weird he would have been relaxed and felt safe. it is good he just said nice and-

"We hoped of course you would sleep well. But new places can awlays be a bit rough." Dust stretches and scoots to the side of the bed only to pause. he glances down and ngihtmare checks as well. it is a tentacle wrapped around him.

Dust hums "Seems like it is nap time." and he just lays back and clsoes his sockets again.

Nightmare blinks as Killer snorts and hugs the other "sounds like a plan." and he gets comfortable. Neither actually fall asleep as they just start to have quiet conversations.

Ngihtmare goes back to leaning against Corrupt as he listens. something about a game they played and one of the cheating. then about some trip and later about chores.

It is nice. It is just background noise.

Corrupt stirs and hums as he opens his sockets.

Ngithmare watches as Corrupt spots him. Corrupt freezes for a moment with clear confusion before it changes to understanding and then-

nightmare feels hismelf relax. the warm look of before is back.

Maybe things will be oaky. The skeletons are nice and Corrupt still wants him around.

And if he is even half as safe as Corrupt promised than he will be more than happy to stay as long as Corrupt lets him.

*----------------------------------------------*

Next part.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ mine | tommy hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; texas chainsaw massacre remake/ the beginning

♡ characters; thomas hewitt

♡ reader; AFAB body description, second person POV

♡ cw; graphic sexual content, implied voyeurism, breeding kink, light daddy kink (just calling him daddy? wasn’t sure what to tag that )

♡notes; i feel the need to apologize for this one lmao. i didn’t intend for this to see the light of day but i felt we needed more smut around here and this was already sittin in my personal folder

i don’t know that I’ve ever posted detailed smut anywhere before? so lmk how i did, i still haven’t even asked to get my friend to beta read so I’m sure There’s Issues.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

“Oh fuck, baby,” You sighed softly, letting your head roll to the side as you ground on Thomas’ thigh - the mountain of a man pushing his leg up with a huff. Luda-Mae, Monty, and Hoyt had taken a rare trip to their cousins’ place upstate, and left Thomas and yourself in a…sticky situation.

It had already become a war of attrition with you living there, each of you testing the other’s boundaries as you tried desperately not to cross the line. Thomas was allegedly a good, Bible-following boy- and you a shy little virgin . But god, something about Thomas just made you crazy. You needed him- and you’d gotten so shameless that you’d let him do just about anything to you.

That’s what landed you there, trying to entice Thomas and only ending up a squeaky mess as you rode his thigh. He was steadfast for a man years pent up- seeming to find great pleasure in making you unravel without cracking himself. Of course, you had no idea of the hours he spent fucking into his own hand as he imagined you around him, stealing your panties from the laundry bin and palming himself to the sight of you splayed out sunbathing in the yard. Even now you seemed too hazy to notice his cock straining against his trousers, or his fingers dug into the couch to prevent himself from touching your body. The way he trembled as he felt you making a mess on him, the only thing between your slick cunt and his leg your already soaked lacy panties…

His laser focus was broken by something entirely unexpected. You whimpered and hid your face against his chest, mumbling “Daddy- please—“

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase,the tone, or both that finally broke his resolve- but either way he pinned you against the floral sofa forcefully, snarling like an animal.

“T-tommy- what- I’m sorry—?” You squeaked, seeming utterly confused. Did you even know what you’d said to him?

He growled and quickly signed ‘Again’. You blinked, perplexed look quickly replaced with embarrassment. You whined and tried to hide your face but he snarled again and made you look at him. ‘Again. Now.’

“…daddy. Please. Please I need you. Please—“ You begged, panting weakly as you writhed uncomfortably and unsated.

He rutted against you quickly, moving and kissing your neck sloppily. “Mine,” He rasped quietly, a rare sound even for his partner “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“Oh my god Tommy- please- I need you to give it to me- I wanna feel you inside-“

He made quick work of his belt, pushing your dress up carelessly and making just as quick a job out of ripping your undies clean apart.

You yelped but replaced the complaint with a blissed out, shuddering whine as he finally rubbed against your bare pussy. “Oh fuck…please- put it in-“

He grunted and pushed your legs back, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours as you felt his weight pressed against you. Even in this moment, he tried his damndest to be gentle, looking your face over for the slightest bit of fear or apprehension. “Tommy, please. Fuck me.” You whimpered out softly.

He pushed in carefully , having to stop only halfway in as you squeezed around him. He was huge, long and girthy and a painful stretch even with you relaxed. He gave a grunt and nuzzled you, hips twitching as he reached between you. Clumsily, roughly, he found your clit and slowly rubbed, purring in approval as you mewled out his name.

He was able to jerk his hips and finally bottomed out with a low groan, face buried in your neck. He held still, taking a ragged breath to try to regain control- but you didn’t want control. You needed him to lose it completely.

“Daddy, please. I want you to fuck a baby into me,” You murmured, letting a desperate whine leak into your voice. It was a bit of a long shot- but he was so possessive. Why wouldn’t he want to breed you?

Thomas’ eyes darkened at the thought and he gave a low noise you could barely classify as he pulled nearly all the way out and snapped his hips, setting a brutal pace.

“Oh god-“ You yelped, bracing yourself on his huge arms as he pounded into you, the entire couch creaking and slamming into the wall at the force. You lost any coherence you had as he again teased your clit, mind blank. You got exactly what you wanted, and it was too much in the best way possible.

You came first- you didn’t know if it was because of his stamina or because even in a frenzy he still needed you to feel just as good. You were almost crying as he continued, overwhelmed and overstimulated - and wrapping your legs around his waist to make sure he didn’t stop for a moment. “Baby please- inside- I want you to finish inside-“ You mewled out in your haze- but damn if you didn’t mean it.

That was all it took, unsurprisingly, for him to thrust one last time and fill you with a snarl. He peppered your face in soft kisses, giving a heaving sigh as he relaxed. You tried to move but he growled, keeping himself firmly inside of you. You blushed a bit as you saw his intense expression “You ah…you really liked when I asked you to knock me up, huh?”

He nodded, huffing at you.

“…you know we have all night to try again, yeah?”

He grunted and finally relented, pulling out and smirking at the sight of his seed dripping down your thighs.

“Tommy baby? I love you.” You sighed sleepily

He looked up quickly and seemed shocked. Man of few words that he ways- and never having dreamed he’d need to learn the sign, he took your hand and pressed it against his chest. Right above the heart. In your mind, there was no better way he could have said it; he loved you too.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[eupheme]

okay but someone (you !!!) should write a cute little oneshot of that tik tok trend where you call logan your boyfriend (even though he’s your husband) and he is just not!!! happy!!! and all pouty about it !!!

ORRRRR (if not maybe both 👀) one where Logan is your boyfriend and you call him your husband and he just melts and is so happy to be around you and in your presence

everything you do is amazing!!! 💖💖💖

ooh hi hi anon! I’ve seen this trend and it’s so cute to think about Logan being like ‼️ about it - I did a little drabble for each scenario! I hope you like them! 💖 (and ahh, thank you so much!)

little games | logan howlett x f!reader

800 words | logan pov, fluff, possessive thoughts

After another long shift, your smile is all he needs.

Unable to help the tired curve of his lips as he hears your voice - the “hi honey” that you coo, from where you lean against the kitchen counter.

Phone tucked against your ear, a notebook and colorful pens splayed out in front of you.

“Sound goods, Saturday is great. Listen, I gotta go-,” Your attention pulls from him, though his eyes linger as he crouches - working on the laces of his boots.

Standing, just as he hears the rest of your goodbye.

“-my husband just got home.”

He almost trips.

Warmth floods through him, a cock of his head as he wonders if he misheard.

But his senses always had been keen.

“Mhmm.” You hum - as he slowly crosses the room. Coming up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist just as you wrap up your call.

Unable to help the tilt of his head - pressing his lips against your neck. Inhaling you, that pretty layer of scents that now linger in his home.

Something stirs, as he lets his mind run free.

“Yep,” You squirm, your hand layering over his, “See you then. Bye!”

He only gives you just enough space to twist yourself around. Still pinning you against the counter, his eyes darkened.

“Hi.” You smile, tipping your lips up to his, “Missed you.”

It’s murmured back, just as his mouth presses to yours. Sweet, when his tongue licks against your lip, his hands slipping up to cradle your jaw.

Letting himself imagine, for just a minute. Still quiet, when you pull away - the mark between his brow deepening.

Never one to beat around the bush, the words slipping before he can think too much about it.

“Called me your husband.” He husks, “You know that?”

He should catch that you’re not caught off-guard. That there’s almost a guilty flicker in your eye, before you’re inhaling a breath.

Head tilting to match his. His eyes dropping to where your tongue peeks out to wet your lip.

“Sorry, baby. Must have slipped up,” You shrug, shyly, “Did it bother you?”

The name curls in his chest, slipping around his ribs. Only adding to the flicker of desire, the soft warmth that’s settled beneath his skin.

“No.” He husks.

Dipping to kiss you again. Hips pressing flush, the curving ridge of his jeans indicating exactly how it made him feel.

“Not when it’s you saying it.”

Logan never really minds meeting the people you grew friendly with.

You attract them in a way he never did. Picking up the names of everyone in the apartment complex long before he does. The couple that live on the floor above. The old man and his dog three doors down.

Your hand patting his chest, as you stop to chat with an older woman at the base of the stairs.

“You remember Logan, right?” You ask her, “My boyfriend.”

And suddenly, he minds. Head whipping towards you so quickly his neck almost cracks.

Eyebrow arching as the women - Gladys - coos over them, the words petering out to white noise as he frowns.

“Husband.” Logan cuts in, gruffly - the gold glinting off his finger as he reaches out to shake her hand.

You giggle. Gladys only exclaims - and it’s all he can do to keep his jaw from clenching so hard his teeth crack.

A hand at your back, already guiding you towards the apartment before your goodbyes are finished. Backing you against the door the second it’s shut, as you blink up at him.

“Tryin’ to be cute?” He asks - and he can hear the edge in his voice, “Another one of your little games?”

Knows he hit the nail on the head when your teeth sink into your lip. Biting back a smile, as your voice pitches up.

“What do you mean?”

He huffs. Hands flattening against the wood - seeing how your eyes go wide as he leans in.

“Calling me your boyfriend.” Logan grits out, “When we both know how fucking eager you were to take my name.”

How wet it makes you, when he has you beneath him. Fingers entwined, a matching ring around yours.

There’s hunger in your eyes. His lips ghosting against yours - pulling away just as you lean to kiss him.

“Uh-uh.” His head shakes, “What am I?”

You pout, but he only hums - expectant. Possessive.

Logan’s voice dropping low.

“Come on, baby.” He coaxes, “Lemme hear you say it.”

Your scent blooms sweet, and he almost groans. Lets your lips press against his this time, your answer breathed out.

“My husband.”

“That’s my girl.” He smirks.

Kissing you soundly, then.

Already imaging how the cool press of his ring will feel when he’s got three fingers buried deep inside you.

Maybe then you won’t ‘forget’.

[aurorawritestoescape]

AMERICAN BEAUTY

best friend’s dad Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,7k

Summary: Joel sees you in a wet dream. Then you make his dream a reality.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel’s pov, horny!Joel, age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), m/f masturbation, mention of f!oral, mention of piv, m!oral, light degradation/slut shaming, swearing. Pics are for the mood, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: This is for Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge 🌸 Thank you @morallyinept for hosting such an amazing event!💜Hugs and kisses to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b♥️Javi’s forehead smooch to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Hope you all will enjoy this filth🌹

Part 2 PLEASE, SIR || MASTERLIST

*****

It’s late. Exhausted after a long work day, Joel is sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s mindlessly flipping through channels, taking a sip of the warm alcohol from time to time.

The dark room is lit only by the TV and his pupils jump every time the screen goes black and then explodes with another picture.

A movie catches his attention and he stops pushing the button on the remote control. “American Beauty”. He’s seen it a couple of times, years ago.

He watches a little and then changes the channel. While his eyes are set on an old infomercial, his thoughts wander back to the movie. The iconic scene flashes in his mind - a beautiful girl is lying naked, surrounded by a myriad of red rose petals. Joel chuckles at the irony of him stumbling on that movie but drives the worrying thoughts away. He’s too tired for this.

Soon the exhaustion and the alcohol in his blood take their toll and his eyes close by themselves.

When they open, he sees you. Sarah’s college friend, who is staying with them this spring break. When Sarah asked him if you could crash with them for a few days, he didn’t mind. He was glad that she would have a friend to have fun with.

But the moment he saw you, he knew that he was fucked. When you smiled at him the first time, he blushed like a teenager. You were a knockout beauty. Your voice was the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Your body made his cock twitch every time he laid eyes on you and your sexy crop tops, daisy dukes and bikinis didn’t help. Be damned Austin and its hot weather!

It’s not surprising that he’s dreaming about you now. It’s fucked up but hey, it’s just a dream.

As if his mind is mocking him, he sees you completely naked, while only crimson rose petals are covering your breasts and pussy as well as every inch around you. Some of them are floating around, swirling, dancing in the air.

You look perfect, lying there like an offering to him and he craves to see more. All of you. So he blows on the petals on your chest and they fly away in slow motion, revealing your beautiful breasts. You moan when the soft flowers graze your hardened nipples, and the sound makes Joel’s cock throb with need.

Can he touch you? As soon as this thought crosses his mind he sees his hand splayed on your sternum. He swears he can feel your heartbeat under his calloused palm. He glides his hand to your breast and kneads it. Your lips open and he hears your needy whimper.

He wants to tell you, ‘yes, baby, I’ll make you feel good soon, so soon,’ but his mouth is silent. He’ll have to show you then.

His gaze travels lower, to the heaven of your body, covered by the red petals. He glances up and sees your almost pained expression. Oh how you want his fat cock! ‘I’ll give it to you good, baby, don’t you worry. Spread your legs for me.’ His wordless wish is your command and your legs part oh so slowly, while he’s holding his breath in anticipation.

In front of his lustful eyes, your pussy blooms for him, still mostly hidden by the flowers.

‘Let me see’, he wishes, “Let me in.”

He carefully picks one petal off your mound and throws it away. You pleasantly surprise him when you lift your legs, and holding your knees with your hands, open your thighs wide for him.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

In a second his mouth is hovering over your pussy, and the sweet scent of your arousal makes his head spin. He darts his tongue out and presses it to the petal on the crease of your thigh. It sticks and he glides his tongue over it, before taking it out of his mouth with his fingers.

He does the same with another petal, which rests right on your clit. You moan when his hot tongue grazes your bud.

He picks the petals one after another with his mouth, lips, tongue, slowly and deliberately, almost edging you and himself in the process but he can’t help it. He wants to prolong this pleasant moment.

When all the petals are gone, his eyes feast on the sight of your bare cunt in front of him, glistening, crying for his attention. He lowers his face and his mouth latches onto your waiting pussy. The taste, the feel of you make his whole body tremble, his cock aches, desperate to be touched, and the sensation is so strong, he immediately wakes up.

He’s panting heavily, eyes darting around the dark room, his mind slowly coming back to reality.

The TV is still on, illuminating his surroundings, and he sees a wet spot on his jeans. His bulge is huge and his cock is pulsating under the confines of the clothes. He needs to jerk off.

Joel listens to the sounds upstairs but hears nothing. You and Sarah must be already sleeping. He contemplates turning on porn but stops himself. He can just remember what he saw a few seconds ago. It was so fucking hot and looked real.

So he unzips his jeans and pulls his throbbing cock out of his wet boxers. It’s big and hard, ready to explode from the slightest touch.

He holds it at the base, rests his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes. The image of you splayed naked, surrounded by roses, comes back to his mind and he begins slowly stroking his cock. He brings back the memory of his mouth on your pussy, him sucking, licking your soaked hole, gathering your arousal with the tip of his tongue and drinking your juices.

Joel is close and he wants to come inside you. If only in his fantasy. He forms his thumb and index finger into a small circle and brings them to the tip of his cock. Imitating your tight pussy, he slowly pushes the head through the opening between his fingers and moans your name, followed by “Oh, baby.”

“Mr Miller?”

Joel’s heart plummets into his stomach when he hears your soft voice, coming from the hall. To his horror, he sees you standing in the doorway. He’s not sure if you saw him or what he was doing at that angle, but his heart is pounding in his chest. He roughly tucks his hard cock back into the jeans, hissing in pain, grabs his plaid shirt off the side of the couch and covers his tent.

“ ‘s late. Go to bed, sweetheart,” he throws in your direction, almost out of the room, but your hand on his biceps stops him in his tracks.

“Mr Miller?”

His head whips your way,

“If ya need anythin’, just ask Sarah. I’m headin’ to bed.” He takes a step out and you say,

“Don’t I get to enjoy it?”

He freezes and looks back at you.

“Enjoy what?”

“That,” you point at his crotch with your chin, “Your boner. I heard you say my name so… I guess you should thank me for it.”

He gawks at you at first, not believing his own ears, but then his gaze narrows and slides from your face down your body. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time just now.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Oh, you’re a slut?”

It comes out as half a question-half a statement and you reply with a smile, “I wouldn’t put it like that, Mr Miller.”

He turns to you, dropping his hands, not hiding his huge tent anymore, and you stare at it shamelessly, biting your lip at the sight.

“And how would you put it? Cos ya surely sound like one,” he says, coming up close to you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your hardened nipples under a soft tee, tiny sleeping shorts, barely covering anything. Your big doe eyes are staring up at him as you purr,

“I just take what I want. Whoever I want.”

“Yeah, that’s a slut. Maybe I don’t like sluts,” he growls, taking a step and caging you against the doorframe. He doesn’t touch you but the arousal oozing from the both of you electrifies the air.

“Your hard-on says otherwise,” you retort and he takes a sharp breath. “Let me help you with it, Mr Miller.”

You say his name in a sultry voice, and a shiver goes down his spine. Fuck, he needs to come soon or he’ll bust a load in his pants.

Joel shifts his jaw in thought, staring at you. You lick your lower lip, looking crazy hot, and the decision is made. By his head or his cock, doesn’t matter.. .You gave him this raging boner so you’ll have to deal with it now. Morals be damned.

Joel walks to the couch and plops down with a grunt. He manspreads and you come up to him.

“I ain’t fuckin’ you, girl,” he grunts, looking up at you from under his brows. Faking a shy smile, you kneel between his legs on the floor. The sight of you standing on your knees, so obedient to him, makes his cock leak precum.

“Can I suck your cock, daddy?”

“Fuck no, no daddies,” he growls, furrowing his brows at you.

You pout your lips in thought, scratching his jean-clad thighs with your nails.

“Mr Miller?”

He smiles. “Much better.”

“Sir?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” his cock practically vibrates when you call him that.

“Mr Miller it is then,” you smirk and unzip his jeans.

He lets you pull down his jeans and boxers to his mid thigh while he’s watching you, his big arm resting on the headrest of the couch, the other hand on his naked thigh.

The moment your fingers touch his stiff length, Joel curses and starts breathing heavily. He tries to keep his cool, but it’s almost impossible.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, that is standing at attention, red angry tip glistening with precum.

“Wow,” you breathe out, and he notices a trace of fear in your expression.

“ ‘s right. Think twice before you take on the task, baby.”

Baby. That word does something to you, he sees it. You squirm between his legs, blown eyes set on his twitching cock.

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself, and lower your head. All his muscles tense up as he anticipates the feeling of your warm mouth on his cock, but you freeze midway and glance up at him, beautiful eyes glinting in the darkness of the room.

“Was I a good girl in your fantasy?”

He bucks his hips in need and replies, “Very good girl.”

His tormenting mind brings back the images of you in the sea of red roses and a clear drop of precum beads on his slit.

You smile and murmur, “Let’s see if I can do better than her.”

With that, you lick off the arousal of his fat head and he moans at the sensation.

You start taking him in slowly but confidently, pressing your hot tongue to the underside of his shaft. Your hand is cupping his heavy balls, gently massaging them. You’re already drooling around him and he thinks, that’s what heaven feels like.

“What a nice sloppy mouth you’ve got there, little slut.”

His harsh praise makes you moan around his cock. You start bobbing your head, your mouth moving up and down his length rhythmically. Joel shuts his eyes, as the image of you working his cock adds to the ecstasy and pushes him towards the edge faster and faster. He can’t come so soon. He wants himself forever buried in your sloppy warm mouth. Or in your tight wet cunt. Fuck, why is he doing it to himself?

His balls get tight and move in your palm, and your mouth leaves his cock.

“Don’t come yet. I want it on my pussy.”

“I said I ain’t fucking ya,” Joel growls, clenching his teeth.

“I said on my pussy,” you roll your eyes and add, “Think of a dead dog or something.”

You fucking wink at him and get back to sucking his poor cock.

Your lips and tongue are massaging every inch of his length and Joel closes his eyes again, hastily trying to find something in his mind that can stop him from squirting his hot cum down your throat.

His truck needs an oil change, yeah, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. It helps for a second but then he pictures you all oiled up and glistening. This very moment your face nuzzles his lower belly as you take him so deep in your throat, he feels you swallowing around him.

Joel opens his eyes and sees tears roll down your cheeks, your lips wrapped around the base of his member, your eyes empty and full of lust.

He quickly grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his cock, trying not to hurt you. You whine and he hisses,

“Shit…gonna come.”

“On my pussy, please, please!”

Joel groans and grabs you by the arm, lifting you on your feet. He tosses you on the couch, takes off your shorts and snarls, “ ‘course, no panties, little slut.”

He kneels between your legs, his hand braced on the headrest, the other wrapped around his ready-to explode cock.

“Show me your kitty, baby.”

“Oh, so is it ‘slut’ or ‘baby’, Mr Miller?” You purr, pouting your lips, but spread your thighs nonetheless.

“Right now you’re a fuckin’ brat,” he snaps and you smile, pulling your knees to your chest, just like in his dream. You lift your shirt, offering your breasts for his view as your hand darts to your pussy to spread your folds with your fingers, so he could paint every inch of you.

He points the tip at your soaked cunt, pumps his cock once, twice and the first jet of his cum shoots and lands right on your clit. You whimper into the back of your hand and your fingers get to work, swirling your bud, using his cum as lube. Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off the sight, milking his pulsating cock and giving you more, more, coating your pussy with a thick layer of his creamy load.

You’re wriggling under him, your nipples hard, belly heaving and when one more squirt hits your clit, you come, silently screaming and squeezing your eyes shut in euphoria. Joel sees your hole clench around nothing, and regrets not fucking your little pussy.

He’s panting, hovering over you, drinking you in and trying to memorize every little detail for his spank bank, while waves of pleasure hit you again and again, your body shaking and trembling.

“Oh, sir,” you whimper and he smiles triumphantly.

When your climax subsides, Joel goes to the bathroom. As he’s soaking a towel with warm water, he stares at himself in the mirror. His hair is tousled, face flushed. The realization of what he’s just done slowly sinks in and he curses at the reflection, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

He returns and hands you the towel. You sit up and start wiping his cum off.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sarah. Or anyone else,” you say, looking up at him.

Joel nods, and his hand darts to touch your face but he stops himself. You get up and grab your soaked shorts off the floor before turning to him.

“How about we watch a movie tomorrow, Mr Miller?” You ask, coming up to him with a gorgeous smile on your lips that makes him blush. “Same time, just you and me?”

Joel’s looking into your eyes, fruitlessly trying to hide his infatuation with you, and his hand rises to your face. He gently brushes your lower lip with his thumb and mumbles bitterly, “Think I know what movie to pick.”

Your face lights up and you purr with a wink, “Can’t wait to not watch it with you. Sweet dreams, daddy.”

Joel grunts disapprovingly and slaps your naked ass, when you turn to leave. You gasp, looking back at him, and bite your lip.

Before going upstairs, you give him a charming smile and he takes a deep breath.

Yeah, he’s fucked.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌹

Please consider commenting and reblogging if you enjoyed the fic!♥️

Pt 2 PLEASE, SIR || Masterlist

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