#I am by the way taking all of this very lightly

[monster-effer]

Oh okk my wifi been acting up lately💀 I requested hcs with all the l&ds men about how'd they react to finding out reader can secretly pole dance, sfw and nsfw hcs if you do nsfw please! Thank you!!💕

This was a really fun concept to write about!!

It seems I am incapable of describing things concisely because this turned out much longer than I expected LMAO, I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗

Sylus

Funnily enough, this starts from a game of tipsy Truth of Dare with Luke and Kieran. You chose truth and they asked you to tell them one unknown fact about yourself. You are a certified yapper when you’re tipsy so you blabbed about your pole dancing hobby then passed out and forgot about your confession.

Of course this info made its way back to Sylus (most likely that same night). And he was intrigued. He would tease you while asking why you’ve been keeping such an interesting hobby from him.

The very next day he would have a pole installed in one of the spare rooms of his home base.

The room would be decorated with in dark, seductive colors with ceiling lights that  showcase the pole and the immediate area around it.

There is no furniture in the room besides a plush black arm chair and a side table.

Sylus calls you over to the N109 Zone saying that he has a surprise for you.

When you arrive he’s all smirks and being more vague than usual. You also don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

As he lets you walk into the room first, you are speechless.

“Forgive me if this is too presumptuous kitten, but I couldn’t get the image of you pole dancing out of my mind. I have a request, why don’t you show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“What’s in it for me?”

Sylus chuckles huskily before replying “Have I ever left you empty handed? You know me better than that.”

You gulp at his offer and quickly don the outfit and shoes that are placed neatly near the pole in the room.

Sylus dims the lights in the room, with the ceiling lights over the pole brighter than the rest. He settles into the armchair and pours himself a glass of whiskey. He adjusts himself in his pants, already feeling his cock stiffen from the anticipation.

You stretch and take a few breaths to get yourself in the zone.

You connect your phone to the speaker in the room then play the first song from your pole dancing playlist.

Once you feel confident and ready, you make eye contact with Sylus and begin to sway to the seductive music.

Although you took several classes in person, you have never performed for anyone before.

You begin to slowly whine your hips to the beat and spin while maneuvering around the pole.

With Sylus’ full attention focused on you, you can’t help but feel like a goddess.

Sylus’ gaze is practically searing your skin. You begin to perspire from the effort you’re putting into this performance. Feeling bold, you slide all the way down the pole until your thighs are flush with the floor. Then, you crawl towards Sylus.

Sylus sharply inhales and puts down his emptied glass on the side table as he eagerly awaits what’s to come.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his knees and slowly rise to your feet. You flash a mischievous smile at him before straddling his lap. Then you wind your arms around his neck and look into his eyes as you grind down hard onto his lap.

Your breath intermingles as you hypnotize him with your undulating hips. When your performance ends you are lightly panting, nervously awaiting to hear his thoughts.

Sylus is mesmerized by the gift you’ve just given him. And he can’t help but to cup the right side of your face before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Your lips glide against one another before you both have to pull away to catch your breath.

“Does that mean you enjoyed the show?”

“You were exquisite my sweetie,” he says as he places his hands under your thighs and rises from the chair. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he walks towards the door of the room.

“Now, let me give you your prize for that outstanding performance.”

Zayne

Zayne is walking around downtown Linkon when something catches his eye. He sees someone that looks suspiciously like you in the window of a fitness class. He has eyes for no one else as he watched you swing effortlessly around the pole. Not wanting to be mistaken for a pervert, he only watches for a few more moments before continuing on his walk.

He ends up walking past his intended destination because he was lost in thought over what he saw. So many questions pop into his mind. Luckily it is Thursday, and he has plans with you this weekend.

Saturday morning finally arrives, and you are at Zayne’s door holding an assorted box of fruit flavored macaroons.

As you let yourself in with your key, you find Zayne washing dishes in his kitchen. He is lost in his thoughts because he doesn’t immediately notice you’ve come in. You place the macaroons on the kitchen counter before circling his waist with your arms and resting your head on his back.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says softly.

“I just arrived. A penny for your thoughts?”

He finishes washing the dish in his hand before he dries his hand on a clean dish towel. He untangles his body from yours so he can face you.

“I saw something interesting when I was taking a stroll in downtown Linkon earlier this week.”

“Oh? And what was so interesting that it’s stayed on your mind until now?”

Zayne pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as a light blush overtakes his cheekbones.

“I saw someone who looked exactly like you a few days ago. They could have been your doppelgänger.”

It doesn’t immediately register in your mind that he’s talking about you yet.

“Oh? And what was my twin doing?”

He clears his throat before continuing. “Pole dancing,” he says in a low tone.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots.

“O-oh,” you say shakily.”

“It’s a new hobby that I picked up recently. I didn’t think you, my doctor, would complain about me building muscle,” you reply cheekily.

“It seems you misunderstood me. I am far from complaining. I do have a request though.”

“And what is that?”

“I request an encore performance, just for me. Considering your medical condition, it is not advisable to begin a new exercise routine without first consulting your doctor.” He says with the smallest grin on his face.

“When is your next available appointment? I had a pole installed in my apartment a week ago. We can conduct your assessment there.”

Rafayel

Rafayel comes across your knee pads and skimpy outfit when he visits your apartment one day.

“What kind of event calls for this outfit cutie?” He asks while holding up your short shorts and knee pads.

IMO Rafayel would be very curious about your pole dancing skills. He would teasingly request a demonstration of your skills and he’d be adorably flustered as he watches your body wind up, down and around the pole.

The man would be flabbergasted and turned on at this demonstration of strength and the expression of freedom as you perform for him.

The sensual nature of this private show is heavy in the room. He’s never seen you look so confident and carefree before. He lets out a weak moan as he watches you and begins to palm his erection through his dress pants.

As a result of your performance, his libido and creativity are at an all time high.

He would have a pole installed in his studio and call you over one day.

He would request that you to hold various poses for him as he attempts to capture the raw sensuality you exude.

Rafayel would get so worked up while he paints that his ever steady hand begins to shake. Before he is done, he is begging for you to use him for your own pleasure. Whether it be riding his face, his cock or his fingers. Any of those get him off because your pleasure is his.

This develops into a pleasurable cycle.

One, two, three paintings later result in Rafayel being desperate and needy for you. More so than he already was. He is never letting you go.

And the paintings of you begin to pile up in his studio. But they aren’t for sale of course, they are for his eyes only.

Because to Rafayel you are the most captivating work of art he’s ever seen, and he will not share this side of you with the rich schmucks that can afford his art.

Caleb

Caleb finds out about your new hobby during one of his visits to Linkon. Instead of heading to his apartment in Skyhaven, he came over to your apartment for a change of pace.

When he walks into your apartment, he is immediately greeted by the pole you had installed in your living room.

He playfully raises his eyebrow and tilts his head to the side as he says, “I didn’t know you have this in you pipsqueak.”

You shrug and say, “I’m not a kid anymore Caleb.”

He slowly eyes you up and down. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. How exactly did you start this new hobby?”

As you explain that you got into pole dancing for fun and strength building Caleb is nodding along with your reasoning.

“Strength building huh? Show me what you’ve learned so far princess.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. But you eventually agree then go change into the performance outfit that gives you the most confidence.

Caleb is already feeling flustered when he sees the skimpy outfit you changed into. He has tried not to act on his long held crush but today may push him past his limit.

As you stretch you wonder if this is crossing the line for what is acceptable to do with a childhood friend/pseudo brother figure. Although you’ve denied it on multiple occasions, your feelings for Caleb lost their innocence well before this moment.

You grab your bluetooth speaker and turn on some music. As you lock gazes with Caleb you feel like this is the point of no return.

Caleb looks suspiciously comfortable seated on your living room couch, thighs spread wide and arms resting on the back of the sofa.

You gaze trails away from him as you close your eyes to get yourself into the zone. After taking a deep breath, you begin to strut around the pole. You seamlessly transition into a routine that you’ve practiced multiple times. But today it feels different, somehow more intimate because Caleb is watching you.

You lose yourself in the music as you climb the pole and twirl slowly down it. You feel so seductive in this moment as you lock eyes with Caleb and take in his reaction.

Caleb was already attracted to you because how could he not be? But tonight, he is struggling to hold back his possessive urges to stake his claim on you. In his mind, you have always been his and tonight he’s going to make sure you know it.

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish your routine before he activates his evol and pulls you right into his lap. His violet eyes were filled with lust as he takes in the surprised look on your face.

You are shook to say the least. Caleb doesn’t use his evol on you often, and when he has it was never for something like this. The tension between you two is thick as you look into each other’s eyes.

“I take it that you liked the show?”

“I’m sure you can feel how much I enjoyed it princess. From now on think I’ll be crashing at your place whenever I’m in town,” he says before pulling you into a messy kiss.

Xavier

Xavier finds out about your new hobby from overhearing a conversation you were having with Tara and Simone.

From the brief snippets he heard, it seemed like something you were really excited about. It made him wonder why you haven’t mentioned it to him yet. Since you two talk practically every day there have been plenty of opportunities to do so.

A few weeks pass before Xavier feels like he’s given you enough time. He decides to bring it up while you two laze around his apartment.

“I heard you talking to your coworkers about your new hobby.”

You choke on your boba tea.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah,” he answers breezily. “What is it?”

“I’m learning how to pole dance. It utilizes multiple muscle groups and I like how it makes me feel.”

Xavier is shocked but he doesn’t let it show on his face. “How does it make you feel?”

You whisper out “Strong…and beautiful.”

Xavier hums lightly at your answer.

“Are you allowed to record yourself in the classes you take?”

“I would have to check. But, I had a pole installed in my apartment a few days ago.”

A small smile appeared on Xavier’s face. “Can you show me your moves bunny?”

You send a flirtatious smile his way before standing up and walking towards his front door.

Let’s just say that Xavier is mystified by your hips. You show out for him just to see what causes him to lose his composure. It happens to be the moment that you slide down the pole, proceed to stand up and swivel your hips in a figure eight motion that does it.

Xavier flashes over to the pole, grabs you, then sits back on the couch while holding you in his lap. “Continue dancing,” is all he says in the commanding tone that makes your heart quiver. When you look in his eyes you realize you may have pushed him too hard.

You gyrate in his lap as you hold his gaze, charmed by his blue eyes that have darkened with lust.

His thumbs are digging into your hips, holding you in place. As if you’re trying to escape.

Xavier would 100% whisper some nasty shit into your ear while you continue to grind on him. Once he’s had enough let’s just say that your bed frame and pussy never recovered ♡.

[lis-likes-fics]

Willing and Able

Pairing(s): Aegon Targaryen x servant!Reader Word Count: 1.6k words Prompt: Blowjobs Warnings: NSFW, smut, allusions to noncon/rape, mentions of prostitution, oral (m!revieving) cum on face, allusions to sex... A/N: This is the first fic of my Valentine's Day event. Hope you enjoy and happy reading.

You are likely the only maid in the whole of the Red Keep who has served under Aegon Targaryen and not been frightened away.

The first time he had caught you in the middle of your cleaning duties, it had been a bit by surprise. It was a bit jarring, but you had ultimately expected it and were prepared.

You are not new to things like this. You were raised in a pleasure house—your mother was a whore—so you have had your practice. So when the prince snuck up on you, you were more than willing to submit to him.

It helps the others at least. The ones who have come and gone, and the ones who still come now take less of a blow with you around to better control his impulses. There have been fewer complaints. While they snicker behind your back about it, they make no move to stop you.

“Darling, won't you do me a favor?” Aegon coos with false affection.

You had hoped to finish your chores before getting caught up by his whims, but no matter. He had been patient enough to let you dust his bedchamber first, watching you the way a dragon guards his hoard. You felt his gaze, stuck to your skin like sap. You heard the sound of a deep hum every time you bent in no particular direction.

You hum lightly, “Yes, my prince?” You continue gathering dirty clothes in a basket to be cleaned.

You had not heard him stand. He can be so swift sometimes, so quiet. You would never see him coming if you were not so used to his advances.

His hand wraps around your arm, pulling you gently back as he turns you to face him. He cups your chin with his hand, his fingers caressing your skin as his thumb brushes against your lips.

He takes the basket, lets it drop to the floor with little care. “I have been thinking of you all day,” he purrs. “Thinking about this precious little mouth of yours…”

You would never admit it to any of the others…but you quite enjoy this part of your job. You could not say you hold immunity against his charms, which he possesses only when his advances are not so forceful. You enjoy his embrace because you know how to handle it, how to handle him. You let yourself melt into his hand, against the heat of his body.

“Well, perhaps then I know how to quell your thoughts,” you smirk, tilting your head slightly. You place your hands to his chest, slowly walking him back until he is forced to sit once more.

He looks up at you, a slick grin on his lips as you lower yourself into his lap. You slip your hand behind his neck, cupping the back of his head and guiding him to your lips.

His mouth is hot against yours, very hot. You assume it to be a Targaryen trait—it must be. His tongue licks against your lips, tasting you with an appreciative hum.

You tilt his head back, your nose grazing the underside of his jaw as you lick and nip at his neck, teasing and tasting him and relishing the way he sighs.

Your nails scratch at his scalp, taking locks of silver hair between your fingers and twirling them. You giggle with every little hitch of his breath, worse when his hands come to your hips, gripping and grasping possessively.

You nip at his ear as you whisper through a soft breath. “I assume my prince likes what I'm doing.”

He chuckles lightly, his lips curled in a smirk. “You assume correctly.” You answer with a hum, scratching his scalp and kissing the curve of his jaw.

“I am pleased.”

His grip tightens on your waist, pulling your hips closer to his own with the slightest growl in his voice. “I had hoped you would be so pleased as to not tease me.” He turns his lip in a fake pout. “You know how fragile I am.”

You giggle, standing from his lap. “As my prince commands,” you smile.

You sink slowly to your knees, your eyes boring into his own as you do. You place your hands on his thighs, and as one slips farther up, his smile grows when you push your palm into the bulge in his trousers.

You undo his belt with skilled fingers, dipping your hand into his trousers and pulling out his half-hard cock with a sigh. He is hot in your hand, aching for your mouth to wrap around him and bask in your warmth.

“May I?” you ask, fluttering your lashes.

He raises a brow like he is unamused by your teasing. “You better.”

You hum a laugh, tucking yourself close as you stick your tongue out. You lick along the underside of his cock, feeling the pulse of the thick vein running along it and disappearing under the head.

He groans, spreading his legs further apart and scooting down the chair enough to lounge. “Much better,” he hums deeply. His hand comes to settle in your hair, though he does not guide you. Yet.

You tease him with your tongue until you feel him getting antsy. As you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, his lips twitch into this sick, twisting smirk.

You close your eyes as you suck him down, wasting no time in burying the length of him down your throat, which squeezes around him as it stretches. You have done this enough times by now that your gag has suppressed into something far more manageable.

His hand tightens in your hair, and you hum at the pleasant sting in your scalp. His leg twitches as the vibrations make their way through his body, and his hips jerk lightly as they press him further into your mouth.

“That’s it, darling,” he grunts.

He holds your head still, stopping the bobbing of your head in favor of thrusting his hips up into your mouth. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes as he begins an assault on your throat, pushing his cock deep inside of it with fast, rough thrusts. It's hard not to choke a couple times with the ruthlessness of it.

“Fuck,” he curses, his voice choked up with pleasure. “There you are. Take it all, sweet thing.”

You brace your hands on his thighs, feeling your chest constricting as you begin to lose air. He still fucks your throat with no sign of an end when it becomes too much. You push off of him to gather a deep gasp of breath.

He does not let you go very long before he growls roughly, taking your head with both hands and forcing your mouth back around him. He pushes you all the way down, throwing his head back and moaning at the feeling. “You did not think you would get away so quickly, did you?” he taunts breathlessly. “I am not finished with you yet.”

You let him do as he pleases, grateful at least for the air you managed to steal. You are even more grateful when you feel him twitching on your tongue, his hands flexing as the tell-tale sign that he will not last much longer.

You suckle around him, hollowing your cheeks and feeling the heat of your cunt aching to be filled when the loud smacking sounds of his cock pushing in and out of your mouth fills the room. It is wet and sinful, and if you thought the gods cared, they would likely be offended by the way you suck him down like honey. This kind of lust is nothing if not one of the darkest of sins.

His fist tightens in your hair, and you brace yourself as you feel him forcing your head down until your lips are pressed against his pelvic bone. You suck around him as much as you can, listening to him moan as he finally reaches his peak.

“Gods be good,” he strains, spilling into your mouth. Before he is done, he pulls you off of him as your mouth falls open, your tongue hanging out of your mouth to take in deep, desperate breaths.

Aegon stares at your face with dark eyes and a clenched jaw as he pumps his cock in one hand, coaxing the rest of his release with rough groans. Ropes of thick, hot cum paint your face, staining your cheeks and nose and chin in royal, white pleasure.

Aegon falls back against his seat, panting as his hands fall from you and his cock. He watches as you close your mouth and swallow down the cum on your tongue. He smirks, mesmerized by you and your skill.

“Always such a good little thing for me, aren't you?” he breathes.

You smile, pleased by his pleasure. “I try my best, my prince,” you whisper. You wipe his cum from your face with your fingers, staring up at him as you dip those fingers into your mouth. You swear you see his cock twitching, not quite as soft as it just was as he stares at you in pure admiration.

“I suggest you go now before I have you bent over the table,” he warns, already leaning forward toward you. You hum, sitting up on your knees to meet him in one of his all-consuming kisses. He groans at the taste of his cum on your tongue.

The offer is tempting, but if you fall behind on your duties then you will have one of the head servants to deal with. So with a sigh, you pull away and stand to your feet.

You try to clean your face off as much as you can. Your hair is all but a mess. As you gather the basket full of his dirty clothes in your arms, you give him a short wink before stepping out of his chambers.

“My prince.”

You will be seeing him tonight.

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[doodle-pops]

Lords of Gondolin | When You Kabedon Them vs When They Kabedon You

Request: For the house gondolin would you be willing to do a group headcanon for kabedoning their s/o vs getting kabedoned by their s/o? 👉👈 Have a great December!

A/N: Oh anon, I hope this was done to your liking, and what you were expecting. Enjoy!

Synopsis: How the elves react when you corner them compared to when they corner you.

Masterlist | Navigation

.𑁍༊˚ Galdor

Galdor had never really considered himself the sort to be easily flustered. He was a warrior, a leader, someone who had seen battle and withstood its horrors without so much as a tremor. But then, of course, you had to go and press him up against the nearest wall, one hand braced beside his head, your expression positively devious.

He blinked at you as he tried to make sense of what was happening. “Are you trying to intimidate me?” His tone was dubious, a little amused even, but there was the faintest pink creeping up his ears.

The moment you leaned in, his composure wavered. He cleared his throat, but his voice had a rough edge when he spoke again. “This seems unfair. I am entirely unarmed.”

If you stole a kiss, he would recover quickly, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you in for another, deeper one—one that was far more calculated than your spontaneous attempt.

You did, however, manage to fully catch him off guard one evening after training when he was weary and unsuspecting. He had barely unbuckled his sword belt when you cornered him in the hallway. He actually took a step back before realising what you were doing. “...Must you do this while I am defenceless?”

If you ever caught him in a moment of deep contemplation and suddenly kabedon’d him, he would take an obnoxiously long pause before looking at you and saying, “Ah. You have finally lost your senses.”

When Galdor kabedons you:

He is not usually the sort to try and fluster you just for the fun of it, but if you had been provoking him all day, he had no qualms about giving you a taste of your own medicine.

He did not do it gently, nor did he do it lightly. One moment you were standing with him in the corridor, and the next your back was against stone, his arm braced above your head. He leaned down slightly, his voice low. “Let us see how you like it, hm?”

He would be very, very close. Not close enough to kiss you—no, that would be too easy—but close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, could see the sharp amusement in his eyes.

If you tried to lean away, he would follow, not letting you escape quite so easily. His lips would quirk in amusement. “Is this not what you wanted?”

When he did kiss you, it was slow and deliberate, his free hand settling against your hip as if to keep you in place. “I think,” he murmured, “that you rather like this.”

.𑁍༊˚ Ecthelion

Ecthelion was entirely unreadable when you kabedon’d him. He merely arched a brow, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you with mild amusement.

“An interesting tactic,” he mused, as if you were in the middle of some military strategy discussion. “And what is your next move?”

You were prepared for teasing, for flustering him, but not for the way he subtly leaned into you, just enough that your breath caught. “Do you intend to keep me here all day, or shall we get to the part where you lose your nerve?”

You did not lose your nerve. You kissed him instead, triumphant, only to realise he had caught your wrist in his grasp, his smirk widening slightly. “Predictable,” he murmured, before reversing the situation entirely.

You were the one against the wall before you could even react, and now he was the one looking down at you, all dark eyes and silent laughter. “You will have to do better than that, meleth.”

You once tried to do this after he had been drinking, assuming his reactions would be slower. The plan backfired. Instead of looking surprised, he merely sighed and reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You are determined to test me, aren’t you?”

If you ever did this in front of others, he would react with the same composure, but there would be the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, like he was trying not to smirk. The moment you were alone, he would absolutely pay you back for it.

When Ecthelion kabedons you:

It was always precise, calculated. He never wasted movement. One moment you were standing comfortably, and the next his arm was caging you in, his gaze sharp with amusement.

“I do wonder,” he murmured, “if you ever consider the consequences of your actions before you enact them.”

The problem with Ecthelion was that he was utterly unreadable. You could not tell if he was teasing or if he genuinely intended to keep you there.

He leaned down, close enough that his nose nearly brushed yours. “You do this often enough. I felt it was only fair to return the favour.”

He always left you thoroughly flustered, if only because he had an uncanny ability to anticipate your every reaction.

.𑁍༊˚ Glorfindel

Glorfindel was not prepared. At all.

One moment, he was talking, all confidence and charm, and the next—bam—your hand was beside his head, your gaze sharp and unwavering.

He blinked at you, utterly confused. “Meleth, are you feeling well?” Unlike Ecthelion, who would lean into the game, or Galdor, who would remain infuriatingly calm, Glorfindel simply did not know how to react.

You had to explain why you were doing it. That only resulted in him grinning at you in a way that made your heart race. “Ah. So this is meant to be intimidating?”

He made it impossible. He leaned against the wall like he was comfortable, like you had not just cornered him. “Oh no,” he said, grinning. “I am at your mercy. Whatever shall I do?”

When you kissed him, he hummed into it, pleased. “I should let you pin me against walls more often.” If you held your ground, he would try very hard to keep his composure, but the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed him.

Once, you caught him off guard—he had been mid-sentence when you abruptly pressed him against the wall. He actually stammered for a moment before laughing. “Alright, alright. That was well played.”

When Glorfindel kabedons you:

Oh, you were in trouble.

Glorfindel did not hesitate. The moment he decided to turn the tables, he moved—quick, effortless, and before you knew it, you were against the wall, his body caging you in.

He never did it seriously. It was always playful, always teasing. One arm braced above your head, his other hand catching your chin. “I wonder,” he murmured, “if this is how you feel when you do it to me.”

He made everything ten times worse by smiling through it, utterly delighted by your reaction.

“You look rather lovely when you are trying not to blush.”

If you tried to escape, he would just chuckle and lean in further, trapping you even more effectively. “No, no. I worked hard for this. Let me have my moment.”

The worst part? He would always kiss you after, slow and deep, as if he had won whatever game you were playing.

.𑁍༊˚ Egalmoth

Egalmoth was far too confident for his own good, so when you kabedon’d him, he did not look the least bit intimidated. If anything, his lips quirked in amusement as he tilted his head. “Ah, so this is how we’re playing today?”

He was annoyingly comfortable with it, even bracing one hand over yours as if he were the one trapping you. “How daring. What do you intend to do now?”

The moment you leaned in, he smirked and closed the distance for you, catching your lips before you could even tease him properly.

He was the worst person to try this on because he would never let you win. If you thought you had the upper hand, he would simply turn the tables on you before you even realised it.

You once caught him off guard—truly off guard—while he was reading. He nearly dropped the book, his eyes flicking up to yours with uncharacteristic surprise. That was a victory.

“Is this some new form of strategy?” he mused. “Because if so, I must say, I quite enjoy it.”

If you really wanted to fluster him, you had to get creative. One evening, you cornered him when he had just finished bathing, his hair still damp, his robe loosely tied. That was when he let out a sharp breath and actually hesitated.

When Egalmoth kabedons you:

Oh, he lived for this. You had done it to him once, so naturally, he had to return the favour—dramatically.

It was never just a simple kabedon. No, he had to lean in, let his fingers ghost over your jaw, tilt your chin just so—all while wearing that insufferable smirk.

“Caught you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement.

If you tried to look away, he would chuckle, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Now, now. You started this game, meleth. Do not falter now.”

He would always steal a kiss at the end of it, just to make sure he walked away victorious.

.𑁍༊˚ Rog

Rog was not easily flustered, but he was a bit too straightforward for these kinds of games. When you kabedon’d him, he just stared at you like you had lost your mind.

“Are you trying to threaten me?” His tone was dubious, but there was an amused spark in his eyes.

You leaned in closer, trying to keep up the act, and that was when you saw his reaction—his hands twitched like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. His ears went slightly pink.

“You are playing a dangerous game,” he muttered, his voice lower than before.

The moment you actually kissed him, he melted into it before realising what had happened. Then, with a scoff, he pulled you into a proper kiss, one that left you breathless. “Next time, you will have to do better than that.”

You tried it once while he was in the middle of explaining battle formations to his men. The reaction was instant. He just stopped, his mouth slightly open, his soldiers staring.

“I—” He blinked down at you, utterly baffled. “...Now?”

If you ever pinned him properly, using all your strength, he would let you, just to humour you. But the moment you got too smug, he would effortlessly reverse it, his grin sharp. “Nice try.”

When Rog kabedons you:

He was fast. One moment you were standing there, and the next your back was against the wall, his arm braced above you, his other hand resting on his hip.

“So,” he drawled, entirely too amused. “How does it feel to be on the other side?”

He did not tease like the others—he was too confident for that. Instead, he just watched your reaction, his sharp gaze taking in every flicker of emotion.

If you blushed, he smirked. If you tried to act unaffected, he would leanin, just close enough to test your resolve.

“You do this too often,” he murmured. “Perhaps I should start returning the favour more.”

He always kissed you at the end, but his were deep, possessive things, leaving you breathless and very aware of how easily he could overwhelm you.

.𑁍༊˚ Maeglin

Maeglin had spent his whole life controlling his emotions, keeping his expressions carefully neutral. But when you kabedon’d him?

He froze. Not visibly, not obviously—but you saw the sharp intake of breath, the slight tension in his jaw.

“What,” he said slowly, “are you doing?”

His voice was too steady, too controlled. You could feel the way his pulse had quickened slightly beneath that carefully crafted mask.

You leaned in, tilting your head, watching for any sign of weakness. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to react but refused to.

“This is—” He cut himself off when your breath ghosted over his skin, his grip tightening. He knew he was losing.

The second you kissed him, his entire frame went tense—but then his hands shot up, gripping your waist with sudden force, pulling you in.

“You like doing this to me, don’t you?” His voice was low, almost a growl.

He let you win for exactly five seconds before flipping the situation entirely. Now you were the one caged against the wall, and he was far too close. “Let us see how you like it.”

When Maeglin kabedons you:

He was silent about it. No teasing, no warning. One moment you were standing, and the next you were trapped.

His hand was braced firmly against the wall, his eyes dark as they flicked over your face, taking in every tiny reaction.

He didn’t need words. He just let the tension sit between you, watching as your confidence wavered.

And then slowly he leaned in.

“You do not look so smug now,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You were the one flustered now, and he relished every second of it.

He would wait before kissing you, just to see you squirm, just to make sure you felt the anticipation. And when he did kiss you? It was deep, slow, utterly consuming.

“You thought this would be a game,” he murmured afterwards, his lips brushing your ear. “You should have known better.”

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[chvoswxtch]

It has been an expensive few weeks and despite being a very well educated scientist at a reputable institution, I make astoundingly little money. So I’d love to request a little action clip! I’m so taken with the idea of Frank just like casually stealing whatever money is lying around the place after he shoots up a mobsters joint and using it to help you with your bills 🤣

no bc why is living so expensive like where is the groupon for existing??

this one actually made me laugh bc I was thinking about in season 2 when he and amy go to that motel and he hands her that bloody wad of cash and she's like?? bitch what am I supposed to do with this??? and he's like???? pay for the motel dumbass

like he's so calm about it and truly does not give a fuck. he absolutely takes whatever money is lying around bc it's not like they're using it anymore 🤣 but ya know what, in this economy, vigilantism doesn't pay the bills (and neither does having a job apparently) so he's not wrong

blurb below the cut

the many saints of newark starring frank castle

The wad of cash that Frank pulled out and set on your dining table made your eyes widen. The faded green crumpled bills were speckled with what was undoubtedly blood. Staring up at Frank wide eyed, creases of confusion settled in your forehead.

“Where did you get this?”

“From someone that don’t need it no more.”

Frank shrugged off his jacket and walked over towards your kitchen, his heavy booted footsteps echoing on the worn wooden floor. You were still staring at him in incredulity. He’d just dropped what looked like a thousand dollars on your dining table with as much indifference as if he’d dropped a twenty dollar bill to cover take out for the two of you.

“Wha-, Frank, this is…what am I supposed to do with this?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, clearly perplexed by your question. Pursing his lips, he lightly scrunched up his nose and shrugged.

“Whatever you want. Get ahead on a few bills, buy some of that stuff that’s been sittin’ in your cart for weeks, save it, I don’t know. Your call.”

His casual behavior about the situation left you spiraling. You didn’t wanna know where this money had come from. You had an idea, but you didn’t need confirmation. 

“Frank…I can’t…shouldn’t we give this to the police?”

If he was perplexed before, he was full on confused now. He turned to face you fully, his expression twisted up like you’d just asked him the most ridiculous question.

“The hell would we do that for?”

“Well…because. It’s…I mean…isn’t it…like…”

“Sweetheart, it’s money. Money is money. Don’t matter where it came from or who had it. They ain’t got a use for it no more. Besides, better you have it and put it to good use than some crooked cop pocketin’ it, or it collectin’ dust in an evidence locker.”

Frank made a valid point. The logical part of your brain understood what he was saying. And it would definitely give you some breathing room, taking care of more than a few bills so that you could cut back a bit on how much you were working.

Sensing your confliction, Frank set the mug down on the counter and walked over towards you, lightly grasping your chin to get you to look at him.

“Look, only place that money is goin’ is in your bank account. Now either you can deposit it, or I’ll swipe your wallet and do it myself. But it ain’t goin’ nowhere else.”

You knew Frank wasn’t joking. And you knew you weren’t winning this argument. Letting out a quiet huff, you have him a pointed look.

“Yeah let me just stroll into my bank and hand them this bloody money. That won’t get me put on a watchlist.”

“For all they know the blood came from a papercut.”

Grabbing one of the bills and holding it up silently, as if to prove your point, you arched one of your brows. Frank glanced down at it, seeing the way crimson stained the faded green paper like confetti. Rolling his eyes, he swiped the bill and set it down on the table with the rest.

“For fucks sake, gimme your goddamn wallet.”

[biblical-chronicles]

Don't be a stranger pt.3

__________________________________

where you and Liam almost get caught [16+]

__________________________________

It had been months now. Months of stolen kisses, whispered phone calls, and carefully timed arrivals and exits. Lennon was an adult, he had his own life, his own schedule—one that you and Liam had learned to work around with an almost ridiculous level of precision.

If Lennon was out, you were in. If Lennon was in, Liam would be at yours. And when Lennon was going away for the weekend? Well, that was your favourite kind of scheduling miracle.

And today, that scheduling miracle had finally happened.

The second you stepped into Liam’s place, barely dropping your bag by the door, he was already on you—grabbing your wrist, tugging you toward the couch with a smirk that made it very clear he had no plans of wasting a single second.

“Eager, are we?” you teased as you plopped down beside him, immediately curling up against his side like you belonged there.

He scoffed, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. “Well, yeah. What else am I meant to do when you finally decide to grace me with your presence?”

You hummed, letting your fingers drift up his chest, tracing the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “You could, I don’t know, act like you’ve got a bit of self-control.”

He raised a brow, like the very suggestion offended him. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

Fair point.

You grinned, shifting slightly so you could get a better look at him, your fingers still idly tracing over his shirt. “You’re pretty, you know that?”

That made him smirk. “Well, yeah. I’ve got a mirror, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, half-expecting that response, but something about the way he said it—so casual, like it was just a fact of life—made you laugh. “Alright, cocky.”

He grinned wider, like he’d just won something, but before he could run his mouth any further, you reached up and cradled his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes properly.

“Genuinely,” you murmured, letting your thumbs skim over his cheekbones. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

That knocked the smirk off his face. Not in a bad way—just enough that you could see something shift behind his eyes, something softer. He blinked once, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right.

“Yeah, alright, no need to go all poetic on me,” he muttered, though he made no move to pull away. “Not tryna write me a love song, are ya?”

You just smiled, thumbs still brushing over his skin. “Maybe I am.”

“Cheeky.” he muttered, but his voice had dipped lower now.

And then, before either of you could say another word, he was kissing you.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, like the idea of any space between you physically pained him.

When you finally pulled away, his lips were still hovering near yours, breath warm against your skin.

“Shit, you’re so hot I need a cigarette.” he muttered, a laugh escaping him.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Help yourself, then.”

Without missing a beat, he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table next to the couch, grabbing one and lighting it up, the flame flickering briefly before he inhaled deeply. He leaned back, exhaling the smoke slowly, his eyes still locked on you.

You ran your hand through his hair, the strands soft under your fingers, and when your eyes met his, there was a hunger there that didn’t need words.

“You’re still gorgeous even if you try and deflect it.” you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you watched him take another drag.

His eyes never left yours as he exhaled, the smoke curling up around him like some kind of dark halo. He lifted his head slightly, tilting it back, letting the cigarette hang between his fingers as he drew in another long drag. The movement made his neck tense, the veins visible for a brief second, and without thinking, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against the soft skin of his neck. You kissed it once, then again, before your teeth lightly grazed him, and his breath hitched.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice already low but somehow rougher now. "You can't just—"

But you were already trailing kisses down his neck, ignoring his protests as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. You heard him suck in a breath, his chest rising under your touch, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you found the spot just below his ear where you knew he’d go weak, and you latched onto it, pressing your lips against the pulse point, a soft, biting kiss.

Liam inhaled sharply, throwing his head back further as he gripped the cigarette tighter, his fingers shaking slightly. He was caught between wanting to keep his cool and the way you were making him lose it bit by bit.

You grinned against his skin, the satisfaction of having him unravel just enough to make him lose that cocky edge. "God, you really are easy, aren’t you?" you murmured, the words low, teasing.

But before he could respond, you reached up, taking the cigarette from his fingers without a second thought. Liam’s eyes widened in slight surprise, but before he could say anything, you took a long drag, the smoke filling your lungs. You didn’t break eye contact as you let the smoke settle in your chest, then slowly exhaled it, the smoke curling in front of your face like a veil.

Liam’s gaze was intense as he watched you, his lips parted slightly. "Bloody hell," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?"

You smirked, leaning in close again, a faint taste of tobacco on your lips as you pressed them to his. The kiss was slow, your tongues intertwining for a brief second before you pulled back just enough to see the hunger in his eyes. His hand was at the back of your neck now, holding you close, desperate for the next moment.

You barely had time to catch your breath before your hand slid lower, your fingers tracing the hard outline beneath his jeans. He let out a low groan, hands pulling you closer to kiss you again, your bodies pressed tightly together as you reached for him again, feeling the heat of him under your fingertips.

Just as you were about to undo his jeans, the door slowly creaked open. Liam’s whole body tensed, and before you could register what was happening, the cigarette was flying across the room, landing in the ashtray. Some of the ash caught in the air, drifting down and landing on your skin. You hissed in surprise as a stray ember burned your neck, but the adrenaline was enough to numb the sting.

You froze, eyes wide, staring at Liam, silently asking, What the hell do we do now?

His eyes were wide, too, the panic was almost comical.

Before you could scramble to hide, you heard Lennon’s voice. “Dad, I forgot one of my bags. Just came back to grab it real quick. Was only a thirty-minute drive, thought it was still worth it to go back.”

Liam just turned to face the direction of the door, attempting to maintain a nonchalant posture. "Uh, right. Yeah, mate, no worries. Just, uh, get what you need." His voice cracked slightly, but he quickly cleared it, leaning back as if trying to make it look like this was just a normal Saturday morning. But then his gaze met yours, and the panic was clear in his eyes.

You ducked behind the couch, practically throwing yourself onto the floor to make yourself as small as possible. Liam didn’t have the luxury of doing the same. He just sat there, pretending to be completely at ease, but you could see the tension radiating from him.

Lennon walked into the room, still oblivious to what was going on. He glanced around, looking at nothing in particular, before his eyes landed on the bag by the door. "Oh," he said, not even breaking his stride, "I see you put my bag here for me, cheers."

Liam stiffened, “Yeah, no problem, mate,” he said, his voice smooth but with just the tiniest bit of panic in it. "Take it and go. Have fun, yeah?"

Lennon just leaned down, grabbed the bag and turned to leave. “Cheers, Dad. See ya.”

Liam breathed a sigh of relief the moment his son walked out the door. He leaned back against the couch, his body still tense from the near-miss. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “That was too close. Bloody hell.”

You slowly emerged from behind the couch, still trying to steady your racing heartbeat. “That was me bag,” you said, looking over at the door where Lennon had just left.

Liam smirked, his usual cocky grin returning. “Reckon he’ll notice?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You looked at him, deadpan. “Unless he likes wearing women’s underwear or is an absolute moron, I think he’ll notice.” you said, your voice a bit panicked.

Liam chuckled, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious. He ran a hand through his hair and gave you a look. “Yeah, we just gotta wait for the call now, yeah?” he said, his voice full of mock seriousness. “Gonna be interesting, that’s for sure. Probably won’t hear the end of it.”

You leaned back against the couch, still trying to catch your breath from the close call. “Well, he’s not stupid, is he?” you said, shaking your head with a small smile. “About time he found out, anyway.”

Liam snorted, dropping back beside you and stretching his legs out. “Yeah, think he might’ve suspected it already.”

__________________________________

Right, part 3, I know, I’ve had a few of you asking for it, so sorry it's taken a bit. To be honest, I just feel like everything I’m writing now is a bit shite... Need to come up with a proper solid idea that gets me out of this little misery. So if this one’s crap, sorry, but I’ll try get back to me normal state tomorrow. Love ya !!

also, why are we losing 4-1 with arsenal as of right now, we can't loose to a team named arse anal 😔

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

February 01 - 2 am | Jegulus | word count: 941 | @taylorswiftmicrofic

The Potter’s house has become a safe haven after years of living at Grimmauld. Not only is their home on a sprawling property in the English countryside, with the windows always open to let in fresh air and sunlight to fill every would-be dark corner, but he isn’t living in constant fear anymore. He doesn’t have to sneak around shadow-ridden corridors, memorizing where the creaky floorboards are; no longer has to strain his ears to know where the other inhabitants are at all times; no longer dreads leaving his room. Mrs. Potter made it clear that he is welcome there, as much as if he were her own son.

Tonight, he finally takes advantage of Mrs. and Mr. Potter’s insistence, and is creeping down the stairs in the dark. He isn’t afraid of being caught sneaking a midnight snack, but rather it’s a courtesy to avoid waking the others at… two am. Because of the time, he hadn’t expected anybody else about. His brother always drops dead from the moment his head hits the pillow until the sun rises. James always sleeps and wakes with the sun. And Mrs. and Mr. Potter… well, he doesn’t know much about them, but they don’t seem the kind to crave a snack in the middle of the night.

He supposes it doesn’t matter, because somebody else is awake, and very much had the same idea of getting a snack, if the smell of fried pastry is anything to go by.

Regulus freezes at the bottom of the stairs, sure whatever god is out there is laughing at him. There is music playing softly from the wireless on the counter, and James is dancing to it. Not just a slight sway or bob of his head. No, he is fully absorbed in it, hips swaying to the rhythmic beat, his body following the fluid movement all the way. James’ feet shuffle backward, then spin him to face the kettle on the stove, the whistle barely sounding before he’s plucked it from the heat. His shoulders shimmy now as he pulls a mug from the counter and sets a teabag in. He sets the kettle back down, freeing his shoulders completely. He spins around, scooping up his plate of friend deliciousness, and mug in the other hand.

It's only then that he notices Regulus, freezing in place as a blush flares across his cheeks and down his neck. “Regulus?”

For a moment, neither of them speak, both caught and reeling. Regulus caught watching, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. James caught… well, he wasn’t exactly caught doing anything wrong. So why is he still frozen in place, even as Regulus continues walking to the kitchen? He’s allowed in his own kitchen, and he’s allowed to dance if he wants to.

He slips passed James into the kitchen, indulging himself as he brushes lightly against James’ side. As he does, James curses in Spanish under his breath, followed by a hiss. Two not-so-gentle clinks sound as the plate and mug are set down on the countertop. He glances over to see James frantically wiping scalding liquid from his hand.

He hardly touched James, certainly didn’t bump into him hard enough to knock the liquid from the mug. So that would mean… sure enough, the blush that had begun to fade is back, more intense than before. It looks thoroughly painful, but James shakes himself from his stupor, and slides onto the barstool as though nothing has happened.

“You’re going to wake everybody up with that music.”

“Afraid of being seen with me? Scandalous.” He grins, setting a kaleidoscope of butterflies loose in Regulus’ stomach. The fierce blush—muted slightly by his dark skin, but still very much visible—matched with the assured grin shouldn’t look so good. But it does, because everything James does stirs something in Regulus.

“Hardly.”

He follows the same movements James did—minus the dancing of course—leaning on the counter opposite James as he waits for his favorite chamomile tea to steep.

“Chamomile? I always took you as an Earl Grey kind of person.”

“Earl Grey is good.” He agrees. “But I can’t sleep, and chamomile goes better with your sopaipillas.”

“Oh?” There are a dozen questions packed into that one word. A dozen questions that Regulus wants to know the answers too, but might just be too afraid to ask them back.

He takes a sip of his tea while he contemplates his next moves. He can simply take his tea and return to his room as planned. Or he can push. He has suspicions about James, things that have been piling up for years, only intensifying after Regulus had moved into the room across the hall. Especially tonight. When a mere touch caused him to spill his tea, or the sight of Regulus watching him dance had incapacitated him.

This could be just what he needs to put those suspicions to the test without confronting them directly. James never shares his snacks with anybody, not even Sirius, and they share everything. And yet… and yet there is a small nagging part of his brain telling him that James would share the sopaipillas, if only he asks.

Regulus rises an eyebrow in question.

James squirms. His eyes dart away, he shifts on his stool, he refuses to look him in the eye, he fiddles with the pastry in his hands, his eyes dart around the room, the blush flares. After a while, Regulus resolves himself to the rejection. Maybe he is reading too deeply into things that don’t mean anything.

Then, the plate slides across the counter.

“There’s honey on the counter behind you.”

[viaviv124]

What argument anti rayfrog shippers (or nayfrogs as i've learned, which is 10x more hillarious) that just makes me question if these people actually pay attention and is also lowkey funny to me is "Bullfrog said he watched Rayman since he was a tadpole!" That is literally not what he said. He said "i used to watch you as a tadpole"

Considering the Rayman show is probably the only or biggest kids program in Eden and Rayman is literally everywhere i doubt Bullfrog couldn't not watch him, espacially if it's mandatory viewing (which it most likely is). To me this just makes it like their Spongebob but forced, you get what i mean? I don't think this really proves a point. Bullfrog didn't even mention ever being a fan or liking the show. Just that he watched it. It's also funny to me how he dropped that line right after calling him "Eden's favorite Poster boy" like it's such a random thing to add lol, i don't think he wanted to imply he ever idolized him considering he was just mocking him the entire way through. Either way, at the time they met both of them were consenting adults able to think clearly and, again, Bullfrog hated Rayman with a passion at that point and did not idolize him, i mean, look at that glare:

If that's not pure spite and mockery i don't know what is.

What people need to understand is that no sane rayfrog shipper goes "Bullfrog likes Rayman/Ramon because he loved watching him on TV like 25 - 30+ years ago!" Pretty much all concepts/headcanons are hurt/comfort because the consensus of them bonding consists of them supporting eachother and becoming a shoulder to lean on to work out their mental stuff like Ramon's guilt about literally everything and Bullfrog's survivors guilt and eldest sister syndrome. Also, Bullfrog is quite literally a trained assassin of a group that quite literally has been fighting the templars/Eden since pretty much the beginning of human history. Pretty sure if anything his mind would default to spiting and distrusting Ramon at every turn instead of idolizing him for something he saw on tv when he was a literal toddler i mean come on are you serious. Also pretty sure his mind is clear enough to think about shit rationally.

Another point i love is "they shared only one scene." People have done more with less. Ramon and Dolph have not exchanged a single glance and Laserray (rayhawk? Idk) is a thing. People will ship anything as long as it has a good dynamic in their eyes. I'm just saying Mordetwi and other crossships.

Its genuinely hillarious to me how people hate on the popular ship instead of everything else. The two canon predators? Nope! Sarah x Jade that would, if it would be canon, be nothing but abuse considering all of their interactions in the show, as few as they were, are pretty abusive? Nope! But god forbid two consenting adults with an age gap that support eachother kiss! I absolutely do have certain problems with rayfrog but considering the lack of material we have to work with these problems are all speculations i can headcanon them away.

Also as a small note in case the conkai crowd pins me on this because of the posts i made several months ago, no, two consenting adults with an age gap are not the same as a 17 year old banging a physically 6 - 8 year old even if he has the mind of a 17 year old, thank you.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent things.. mostly just writing screenshots lol

[itsalwaysdark]

i unlocked a new voice earlier btw but i cant do it that much bc it requires me to be nervously laughing and breathing very heavily and it had me gasping for breath for like 30 minutes

[cursingtoji]

summary: clan leader!gojo needs a favor from your clan but as the leader you refuse, so he proposes to give you a child since your husband is unable to.

"and what am i to do when the child comes out with a white head of hair and blue eyes?"

“if that happens…” he undoes the knot that holds your kimono together and pushes the material down your arms with no resistance from you, “…then i’ll kill your husband myself and marry you.”

nsfw ahead cw: historical au, infidelity, pregnancy, creampie, child birth, satoru is pathetically in love. featuring samurai bodyguard geto and toji.

“i thought we had solved all our business with the gojo clan” your husband says from the door he leans on.

“and i did” you emphasize the i since the head of your clan is you and only you went to the clan meetings that got things solved. you tapped your lips a little bit more to place the reddish pigment looking at the mirror, “but satoru summoned this meeting and gave no details.”

“satoru huh?” your husband points, not letting go unnoticed the fact you used his first name without formalities.

“all right” you take one step back checking if your kimono is proper, “see you tonight” you peck his lips lightly to not ruin the tint on yours and proceed to the carriage outside.

for years the gojo clan and yours avoided each other due to some very old beef that no one remembers or even was alive when it happened, so when your mother passed and you assumed as the new head you soon decided to reach out to make peace with the current head of the rival clan and a friendly relationship was restored. more often than not you two met, sometimes with other clan members or even other clans when necessary, but today gojo insisted on being just the two of you.

toji, your bodyguard, opens the carriage door when you arrive and give you his hand for you to step out.

to avoid any issues the place of the meeting was always the temple middle way your residences. from time to time your families attended the prayers there, that’s when your husband saw satoru for the first time.

“where’s his wife?” he asked the first time you pointed the white-haired man as the clan head after you made peace.

“he doesn’t have one.”

“fiancée then?”

“i don’t think so” you both watched discreetly as he greeted the monks.

“i find that quite odd. what about the black-haired man?” he pointed to geto, gojo’s bodyguard, “could they be involved romantically?” geto leaned to whisper something to his master, a little bit too close if you might add, a few more inches and his lips would be touching satoru’s ear. his romantic life was no business of yours but you didn’t like the idea of him having any partners, didn’t seem right, though deep down you knew it was very unlikely for a handsome man like him to be alone. both men somehow found your curious gaze.

“geto” you greet the known bodyguard as you enter the temple, and he bows to you, your bodyguard nods at him as well and you’re guided to the secret room.

the conversation went on for almost an hour, satoru served you tea when he noticed you finished yours, which was unusual for a clan head to do such a mundane task but he always insisted no servant join on your private meetings. you always thought he was particularly paranoid about spies, but that suspicion was dismissed when you had your first meeting with other clan heads and he didn’t oppose the people that stayed in the back of the room waiting for their master’s orders.

“satoru we went over this on the last meeting, why am i here?” you are getting impatient, satoru always seemed relaxed when he was at the temple like it’s the one place people don’t come to him with problems, so he tended to do things without any rush at all.

“so impatient…” he smirks, “i was getting to the point but fine. i need your doctors for a few weeks.”

because of the many wars and the necessity to heal mainly the samurai your clan became specialized in healing techniques and remedies instead of combat.

“is someone injured?” you raised your eyebrow, it wasn’t likely for satoru to ask for something like this when he could’ve sent a letter.

“no. but we are expecting a conflict soon and—”

“let me stop you there satoru” you raised your hand and for a second you saw a glimpse of annoyance cross his features, “we don’t get involved with battles anymore, the healers go through extensive training and i can’t risk losing them in battle.”

“so instead of putting their knowledge into practice you rather keep them locked in a room reading books?”

“they are busy with research at the moment” you raise your chin unwilling to budge on the matter.

“is that so?” he tilted his head smiling “and how many people does it take to figure out your husband is infertile?”

you widened your eyes, this is way too personal of a matter for someone else, especially another clan head, to know.

on the other side of the door, geto and toji guarded the room, they were close enough to listen to the conversation and without turning his head geto looked at toji with his eyebrow raised, to which toji only nodded confirming the rumors.

“you’re not the only one with little birds across territories, sweetheart” his smile only seems to grow.

“that is no business of yours. besides, lending you my healers will only harm my clan and, as i said, put them at unnecessary risk” you managed to find your composure back and avoid the infertility topic.

“don’t you trust i have the best warriors? you seemed to when we came to your aid” he reminded a time you asked for their men.

“i paid for that.”

“and what makes you think i won’t?”

“we don’t need money.”

“i’m not talking about money” he drops the volume of his voice.

“listen, satoru—” you rise to your feet sensing the tone of this conversation is off.

“i’m listening, for a very long time i’ve been listening” he rises as well and takes a few steps in your direction, “you know what i listen to? the rumors about your family threatening to make your brother head of the clan if you don’t bear an heir soon.”

you take a step back.

“or the resources you’ve been spending to research a treatment for your husband. tell me, darling, can he even get it up for you?” he is too close now, you can see all the details of his insanely blue eyes.

“he— that’s not a problem” you accidentally confess.

“of course it’s not, look at you” his finger brushes your cheek and the touch makes you burn under your skin, “i could give you a child” he lowers his head to your ear, running his lips on it, “a healthy, smart, beautiful child” he presses his hand on your belly over the thick material of your clothes, “and it wouldn’t even be an effort” he presses his hardened member on your hip.

“and what am i to do when the child comes out with a white head of hair and blue eyes?” you look into his eyes challenging him to a solution.

“if that happens…” he undoes the knot that holds your kimono together and pushes the material down your arms with no resistance from you, “…i’ll kill him myself and take his place as your husband.”

you gasp, not expecting such an answer from the man you always watched trying to find a way to avoid violence.

satoru kisses your jaw then your cheek and when he gets close to your lips you turn your head, your conscience only now, in this intimate act, attacking you.

“he’s not fulfilling his duty” he whispers, letting go of the knot on his kimono, taking your hand and putting it on his chest. you open your eyes, not even aware you had closed them, and see his sculpted torso, so close to you, so warm…

“it’s not your fault, can’t you see?” he raises your chin, “it wasn’t meant to be, unlike us” you know he’s just telling you what you want to hear, but in his voice everything made sense.

“you’ll see” he picks you up and lowers his body with you back to the mat in the middle of the room, his kimono is still around his arms while yours was forgotten somewhere else, leaving only the very thin, dress-like, white undergarment that pretty much showed everything.

satoru lowers his head to your chest, his tongue wetting your nipple over the material, “i bet you’ll become even prettier” he replaces your breast with his hand, big and hot, and goes to the other nipple, “with your breasts heavy and a big belly” he sucks on you, hardly, you put your hand over your mouth.

satoru raises your legs over his shoulders, “your feet will get tired” he kisses the inner thigh, “but you’ll still come and see me” you thought it sounded like a question, it was a statement.

his head goes down, as he kisses your folds your back arches, he licks a stripe ending on your clit and flickering it.

satoru starts to lose himself, he gets too intoxicated by you, almost forgetting time is running against him here. he doesn’t have much longer until your bodyguard gets suspicious and calls for you, and by the way your hand is tight against your mouth he doubts you’ll be able to give a proper response.

he wants to make you cum before he shoots his load, suguru’s intel told him you asked one of the doctors if the woman needed to come to increase the chances. it doesn’t take much medical knowledge to interpret that question.

you cum on his tongue pulling him out of his dreams where he imagined himself doing that every night after those boring fucking meetings he has to attend at every slight inconvenience in his clan.

“it’s gonna be okay, just relax for me” he pushes his length slowly before you get the chance to see his size. you whisper his name behind your hand and he can’t stand not seeing your whole face, so he takes your hand out of the way and kisses your wet lips pushing his tongue and swallowing your moans as he goes deeper and starts to pick a pace.

satoru holds back a curse, reminding himself he’s in a sacred place and although anyone would say that’s ironic given what you’re doing in the temple he would argue that’s even more sacred than what most people prayed for.

you start to feel his weight down on you as he trusts get sloppier, he’s still kissing you, holding your lips with his when he twitches and fills your insides, in your drunk mind you think it’s so much more than what you’re used to.

after he catches his breath he pushes himself up and out of you, you allow yourself to close your eyes for a brief moment but you open them wide again when satoru pushes his cum back into you with his finger, “keep it deep and warm for me, yes?”

one hour later you pass through the door your bodyguard slides open for you to enter your chambers. on the way there you realized there’s no chance he and geto didn’t grasp on what was happening inside the room.

“toji?” you call before he can close the door and go to his personal room, he stops, indicating he listens although he doesn’t respond with the formality others usually do, “i trust you won’t share with anyone what happened today” you speak firmly looking the tall man behind you over your shoulder, his scar stretches slightly with his smirk, the man bows and closes the door.

they said it was a road accident, the horse got spooked and ran, by the time they found it there was no rider so they searched your husband and found his body down the mountain.

the ritual was long, you wore the traditional widow clothing, accepting the kind words of the clan members and the prayer of the monks. though you really were sad, all this pity was making you sicker than…

“at least you didn’t have kids, no child deserves to grow up with a dead father” an old lady says to comfort you while holding your hands.

“excuse me” you turn around walking slowly to not raise suspicions and as soon as it is just you on the other side of your home you bend your torso and throw up all you’ve eaten before the funeral.

you cough and when a tissue enters your field of vision you immediately take it and clean your mouth.

you feel your stomach empty but the light volume below it reminds you of whose fault it is.

you raise with the tissue on your lips to say thank you and the sight of the white-haired man makes you choke.

“shh, it’s okay, i’m here as an ally, to give my condolences to a friend in grief” there’s absolutely no seriousness in his tone.

“what about the war?” you ask through heavy breathing.

“that was child’s play, don’t worry, your healers will return safe and sound in a few days” he puts his hand on your shoulder to calm you down, you do.

satoru takes a second to drop his sight to your belly, it has been a month since your last encounter, and by your sensitive stomach he knows that one time was enough for you to get pregnant.

“do you think you can hide it for another month until the wedding? then when the child is born we’ll just say it was a premature birth” god, your former husband’s body was barely cold and gojo is already planning the wedding and what to say about the baby.

“why now?” you look up at his mischievous eyes, he knows what you’re asking truly.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, it was an accident right?” he touches your face, brushing away a tear that came out, more of a natural body reaction of your gagging than a sadness reaction.

“satoru, tell me” you demanded.

“i just reflect a little you know? when i said i would kill him you never asked me not to. besides, i don’t want another man to think they own what’s mine” his eyes are darker, you think he’s talking about the child in your womb but by the intensity of his gaze, you realize he’s talking about you. “if you need anything tell suguru, i’ll have him staying in the village until we announce the wedding.”

“no, i have toji, don’t want anyone suspecting geto’s intentions” you defend.

gojo doesn’t seem to like it, but he doesn’t argue either, “either way, i want to see you. meet me at the temple in five days, we’ll talk about the arrangements” he leans in and kisses your forehead before turning away and then back “i almost forgot” he reaches for something inside his sleeve and pulls out a shiny golden bracelet with gems and puts it on your palm, you know you can’t wear it now but god it’s gorgeous, “came from the west especially for you” he puts his hand on top of yours and leaves it there for a long moment as you look into each other's eyes. satoru is fighting the urge to kiss you, if someone catches you he can’t say he’s comforting his recently widowed friend, so he forces himself to let go of you and go head back to his village.

the midwife instructs you to push harder as her helper dabs a wet cloth on your forehead. you’re squatting, on your knees giving your all to push the baby out.

finally one last push is all that it takes for the little one to come out, you want to lay down and close your eyes, but you need to see the baby first so you mumble something with your arms open, the midwife cleans baby’s face through crying and screaming.

“it’s a boy” she whispers putting him in your arms. satoru enters when he hears the cries and kneels in front of you. behind him are both suguru and toji, who aren’t allowed to enter but the men are also very eager to see the child they can’t help but try to peek.

you balance the boy in your hold for a little bit till he stops crying and when he opens his eyes you see the blue sky.

“give him to the father, we’re not over” the midwife says.

“what?” you, satoru, toji and suguru ask. the last two get an angry look from the midwife and remove themselves from the scene.

“the next one will come out soon” she puts new towels below you.

“two children? at once?” you ask in disbelief then look at satoru who can only smile apologetically.

after god knows how long you’re finally allowed to rest as the babies were cleaned and fed. the second one was a girl, with identical blue eyes as her brother and father.

“i can’t believe you put two kids in me” satoru is outside the wooden tub, breaking all tradition by helping you bathe after the birth.

“can’t say i’m sorry for that” he rubs your shoulders, “you were incredible” he confesses now that there’s only the two of you. satoru refuses to even let your feet touch the floor, he takes you out of the tub once the water starts to cool down, placing you on a dry surface and getting on his knees to dry your feet, you reach out to touch his face.

“i love you, satoru” you blurt, overwhelmed by your feelings for the man who was once your rival.

he looks up from his position, taking the hand on his face and kissing your palm, then your pulse, he kisses inch by inch of your arm until his lips are on yours, “i love you.”

"pay up, pretty boy" toji approaches geto.

"excuse me?" suguru looks up from the sword he's polishing now that gojo dismissed him for the rest of the night.

"i said it was gonna be a boy."

"yeah and then a girl came out right after so the bet was invalidated."

"there's no such a thing, the boy will inherit it all anyway" toji crosses his arms, geto laughs, fishing a coin from his pocket since he knows toji will say anything to win the bet.

"and what makes you say that? there's two clans and now two heirs" toji snatches the coin as soon as he sees the silver glow.

"that's just how it has ever been" he turns his back to geto who drives his attention back to his sword.

"things are changing old man.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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[ms-spkhd]

It's not like there's anything inherently wrong with Steve. Just...weird. Odd. A wealth of other various synonyms to describe his decidedly bizarre behavior.

Well, Bizarre's a strong word.

But Eddie's point still stands! Steve's a little to the left and it makes Eddie feel endlessly awkward for noticing. The fact that he's uncomfortable about it compounds his unease over it.

"Wanna talk about it, then?" Jeff asks, riffling idly through the record crate. Of course, the one day off they spend window-shopping in Indianapolis results in Eddie getting the fucking 'let's discuss our feelings about things' talk from Jeff. He wonders how the man isn't green with sickness from therapizing all the goddamn time.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I'd look like an idiot."

"Would the idiot keep running or confront his problems head-on?"

"This feels like a trap."

"Oh yeah," Jeff says simply.

"Like the ones with the cardboard box and the stick."

"Pre-cisely."

Eddie's shoulders slump in defeat. Better the idiot who speaks, he supposes. "He's very smiley about me being gay."

"Smiley."

"Smiley. As in he's acting like I vomit flowers and shit rainbows." Eddie shakes his head in frustration. "I'm not opposed to the support and everything...it's just that. He's like an octave higher than usual about it."

Jeff purses his lips in thought. "Like, his voice?"

"No--like...like, he's very enthusiastic about my sexuality."

Eddie leans back against the shelf behind him. Steve's a nice guy, really, but the way he goes about his support of Eddie feels like he's trying to compensate for something. A lack of empathy when he was younger, perhaps.

"He always asks if I have a boyfriend, or if I've been hooking up with any guys lately--which, hello, does he not know that queer metalhead nerd isn't a very hot item here?"

Jeff pulls a face but nods in understanding.

"And when I tell him obviously no, he says he can hook me up with his, what? Fucking father's brother's cousin's former roommate? It's like he's begging for a double date with him and his new squeeze, it's goddamn ridiculous." "New squeeze?"

"I'm hyperbolizing." Eddie blows a raspberry and shrugs. "He says it's sad that I don't have someone for how good-looking I am. You're making the face again."'

Jeff snaps out of whatever trance he's in, his drawn eyebrows shooting up to his hairline in surprise. After his gawking mouth clacks shut, he cautiously gestures at Eddie to continue.

"It's stupid," Eddie concedes, "but I really don't understand what changed, y'know? He used to be this cool, confident guy with a dorky side, but now he's just so...I don't know."

Jeff smiles lightly and knocks Eddie's shoulder with his. "I have a theory."

"Go on."

"I think Steve isn't being supportive."

"Uh-huh."

"Far from it, actually."

"Yeah. Whatever you say, chief."

"He isn't smothering you," Jeff points out. "He wants to fuck you."

Eddie blinks. Takes a moment to access and really take in what Jeff just said. "What?"

"Or at least, he wants you in an entirely non-friendly and possibly even carnal way."

"Excuse me?"

"Biblically."

"Dude," Eddie insists. "What. The. Fuck."

Jeff raises his hands placatingly. "Steve clearly likes you. A lot. He probably sees you being gay as an in for him."

"Okay, well, I don't understand. He tries to set me up with randos he knows all the time."

"He called you good-looking."

"While he was trying to set me up with said rando!"

"Guys like him have a really backward way of doing things." Eddie crosses his arms sternly. "Or he's straight," he says.

"Again," Jeff asserts. "Good. Looking. Dude, he's fucking obsessed with you! You said he's an octave higher around you now, right?"

"Because he's a well-meaning friend?"

"Eddie, remember when he crashed band practice last week?"

Oh yeah, Eddie remembers that. The man of the hour randomly parked in Gareth's driveway, leaned against his Beemer with his arms crossed, and watched Eddie play like he fucking hung the moon. Afterward, he'd sung his praises for the band and gave Eddie a yellow guitar pick attached to a sparkling silver chain. "Found the pick a couple of towns south with Robin the other day. Reminded me of you," he said softly. "Since you lost your last one."

It went unspoken where Eddie lost 'the last one'.

Eddie remembers smiling back at Steve with the force of a thousand supernovas, and thinking later in the night that it felt like a scene from a romance movie. Steve's favorite color is yellow, isn't it? It was like he wanted a piece of himself with Eddie at all times, right next to his heart.

Eddie didn't want to give himself that stupid hope. That Steve Harrington wanted in on his heart.

It doesn't feel so stupid anymore.

He looks back at Jeff and says, "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Part two

[stunie]

“YOU CRAZY? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”

WIND BREAKER + YOU NOT RECOGNIZING THEM. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request : a chunk of it -> “..reacting to drunk reader not recognizing them and they wanna take reader home but reader won’t let them and tells them to fuck off or else her boyfriend (which is right infront of her) will kick their ass..”

notes : aa ! ! i am also a sucker for plots like these !! sorry it took me a while to get to >: thank u sm for sending this in nonnie <3 (cw alcohol ; but the consumption isn’t really mentioned in this)

HAYATO SUO.

“don’t you dare touch me,” suo’s eyes widen when you’re clumsily swatting at his hand, half lidded eyes narrowing into your best attempt at a glare. your words are slow and slurred, but he still manages to understand the gist of what you’re trying to say. “my boyfriend’s gonna make you pay if you do,” you huff, pointing an accusatory finger at him and jabbing it a couple times into his chest for extra measure.

“oh?” his gaze softens a bit, unbeknownst to you, and his smile is back the second he understands what’s happening here. “your boyfriend? where is he now?”

the way your glare immediately falls at your realization almost makes him feel bad, and he’s giving you a smile of pity when your lips tug into a deep pout. “um…” you frown, eyebrows furrowing to rid of the tears already starting to blur your vision, “i don’t know…”

“you don’t know?” suo’s voice is steady, easily hiding the way he’s stifling a laugh at the sudden change in your demeanor. he’s watching with amusement as you start to sniff, hands coming to messily wipe at your eyes with your sleeve as you start babbling, spewing out things about how “you need to find your boyfriend right this second” and how you’re “all lonely now.”

“oh dear,” he chuckles, hands coming to lightly grasp around your wrists, “your boyfriend has told you not to wipe your eyes like that before, hasn’t he? you’re going to irritate the skin.”

“mhm,” you give him a shy nod before staring up at him with confusion, gaze flickering to the thumb he’s bringing to gently swipe at the tears collecting along your lashes a moment later. the way you’re stiffening up at his touch is cute— and it looks like you’ve unconsciously recognized his familiarity even in this state.

“y-you know my boyfriend?”

how endearing.

“sure. i know him pretty well,” suo smiles, hand coming to press against your lower back as you guides you forward, “so let’s find him, okay? come with me.”

KAJI REN.

“huh?” you’ve got kaji completely petrified, eyes blown open as his hands defensively shoot up in front of him the second you’re slowly waving your pepper spray back and forth— the pepper spray he had bought you, by the way. “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i’ll tell you exactly what im doing,” you retort, eyes narrowing at the alleged unfamiliar man in front of you, “i’m gonna call my boyfriend here, and he’s gonna beat your ass if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”

ah. the slur in your voice is all it takes for the situation to suddenly click in his head. and now that he’s looking at you closer up, he’s surprised that you’re even able to stand in such a state. you’ve only come here with him, so the only way you’ll be going home is if he takes you home.

and that’s not looking very plausible right now.

he’s clicking his tongue before ripping through another lollipop, raking his fingers through his hair as he goes through the potential routes he can go with this. how the fuck was he gonna bring you home like this..? and actually, how would it make him look if people see him forcefully tossing you onto his back and booking it home?

this was a terrible situation through and through.

“um— come here,” he tries coaxing you the way he would with a stray animal, fingers coming to hesitantly pinch your sleeve to lift your arm without technically touching you, and he’s slowly moving it a couple inches to the right. “i’m your boyfriend. let’s go home.”

you shake your head.

his cheeks are flushing red when he realizes there are onlookers now, a handful of people watching the situation unfold, and you’re not helping his case at all— arms crossed across your chest as you eye him up and down suspiciously.

“c-candy,” he grumbles under his breath, deep red spreading to the tips of his ears. “i’ll give you a piece of candy if you come with me. sound good?”

TOGAME JO.

“m-my boyfriend can fight, you know” you stumble backwards, slowly backing up until your back meets with one of the tables, and it’s just great. you’re completely trapped now. he’s looming over you the next second, big hands resting on either side of you as you try to steady your breathing.

togame will be here any minute, you’re reminding yourself. this is fine.

“that so?” there’s a low chuckle from him, and he’s feigning innocence, looking around to locate this boyfriend of yours. “i don’t see him anywhere.”

your breath catches in your throat. your vision’s still dizzy, world spinning each and every time you move your head, and you search around your hips, internally cursing when you realize your purse is gone too.

no phone, and no boyfriend.

he’s moving awfully close to you now, and you can’t move— can’t call your boyfriend. “y-yeah,” you manage to stammer, thinking hard as you decide what to do. “he even taught me how to fight… so don’t test me.”

now that’s a bluff.

“oh. did he now?” togame’s brow raises at your threat, trying to resist the urge to laugh when you’re quickly nodding the next second, cute hands balling into little fists— and oh, that’s not quite how you’re supposed to do it.

but he’ll teach you another time. “so… in that case… you know what to do when a guy does— this?” his fingers wrap around your wrist before you can get a word out, pulling you forward in one swift movement.

you’re gasping as soon as you fall forward, crashing straight into his chest, and his arms are quick to wrap around you, big hand coming to pat at your head like a dog.

“oh, how weird. i didn’t think he’d teach you to hug other guys.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. cw : he jokingly refers to himself as your kidnapper (he did not kidnap you)

“what now, haji?” your eyes narrow at the phone screen being shoved an inch in front of your face, and ume’s gone puppy mode beside you, excitedly rocking back and forth on your bed as he waits for you to hit play.

“just watch! you’ll see. press play.”

you rub at your eyes, wincing at the way your head starts to throb, still pounding from the events of yesterday. the video that plays out in front of you is completely dark for the first seconds, and you’re quick to grow impatient— seconds away from huffing and pushing his phone away until you finally hear a rustling, followed your own voice.

“haji’s gonna make you pay,” you cringe at the sound of your own voice, and there’s a loud sniffle that follows. “so take me wherever you want, ya goof. he’ll really make you regret it when he finds me.”

no way.

“‘haji’ huh!” you hear umemiya burst into a laughing fit, your face burning at the way he’s poking fun at your past self, and you hear your drunken self scoffing at him a second after. “so what kinda guy is he, huh? your kidnapper’s gotta know!”

there was absolutely no way he recorded himself carrying you home.

“he’s huuge,” the video catches your hiccup, “he can toss you around like nothing. i’m warning you now. so you can put me down if you get it.”

from the muffled sound of your voice, you think ume probably had you tossed over his shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around the back of your thighs to keep you draped over him. “that so?” he chuckles, “what’s he look like?”

“i can’t believe you,” you sigh, fingers rubbing at your temples, “you’re unbelievable.” you’re sneaking a quick glance at your boyfriend, but he’s still focused on the video, soft smile tugging at his lips. “keep listening, ‘kay baby? this is my favorite part.”

uh oh.

“he’s the prettiest boy ever!” your cheeks are immediately filling with heat at your shameless confession, hand slamming over your mouth— there was absolutely no way. “you wouldn’t believe it. you’ll know when you see ‘im. he’s gorgeous. beautiful. i looove him! don’t fall in love with my boyfriend— you better not. he’s mine.”

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader read thirst tweets

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

warning: a little bit thirsty, as expected <3

The cast settled into their seats as the crew finished setting up the cameras and lighting.

“Why am I more nervous for this than any of the other interviews?” Madelyn laughed, straightening up her dress. The cast had already done a handful of different interviews for the third season of Outer Banks, the famous (or infamous) “Thirst Tweets” the last on the docket.

“No I am too, babes.” Y/n said, shaking Madelyn’s leg playfully. The three girls, Madelyn, Madison, and y/n, sat in front chatting while the boys, JD and Drew, were getting their hair “refreshed” before they began shooting.

“Alright, so here are your tweets,” one of the crew members said, handing each of them a phone preloaded with tweets of varying degrees of horniness.

“Oh my—” JD started to shout, but was cut off when Madison elbowed him.

“Don’t start yet!” Madison giggled, resting her phone in her lap, a blush already rising in her cheeks.

“Ok, you guys good?” The cameraman asked, shooting the cast a thumbs up.

“Yes!” The five of them shouted in unison as the camera began to roll.

“Alrighty, take it away… Madelyn.” The secondary camera operator focused on Madelyn, who looked down at her phone.

“Ok, this one is pretty straightforward: ‘Madelyn Cline is a mother’.” Madelyn giggled.

“Not just ‘a mother’, ‘mother’.” Madison corrected, causing Madelyn to shake her head bashfully.

“Ok, ok, Mads you go.” Y/n said, elbowing Madison lightly.

“‘Madison Bailey please kiss me’...” Madison looked into the camera, a cheeky grin on her face. “Ha, ha… no.”

The cast laughed before returning to their phones, looking through their tweets.

“‘Jonathan Davis I am free tomorrow at 5 pm if you want to go on a date and hold hands! And… redacted, redacted, redacted’.” Jonathan read.

“Sounds… fun?” Y/n commented, glancing back at JD, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, ‘it’s true. Drew Starkey makes me go feral’.” Drew read sheepishly, his cheeks flushing. JD started to make some sort of animal noise, Drew joining in, the two of them playfully going “feral” behind the girls.

“Y/n, does Drew Starkey make you go feral?” Madelyn asked teasingly.

“Not in whatever way they were doing.” Y/n stifled a laugh, turning back to Drew, who shook his head with a grin.

“Ok, sure. You go, baby.” Drew said, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Alright…” Y/n scrolled, looking for a good tweet before continuing, “‘y/n is so fine, like please ruin my life I beg of you’. Wow, thanks I guess? For letting me ruin your life?”

The cast laughed before continuing back to their tweets, each of them feeling flushed and flattered by the very kind tweets.

“‘Before I watched Outer Banks I always classified the rich as annoying and vowed I’d never simp over one…’” Drew read, “‘until I met Rafe Cameron and flew up his ass like a bat’?”

“‘Flew up his ass like a bat’?” Y/n asked incredulously, her mouth agape.

“If somebody walked up to you on the street and said that to you…?” Madelyn asked Drew.

“Marry me.” Drew said nonchalantly.

“Drew, I need to ask you a question—” Y/n began, but collapsed into a fit of laughter before she could get the words out.

“Can I ‘fly up your ass like a bat’?” JD finished, making eye contact with Drew before the two of them moved in for a dramatic kiss, falling away just before their lips would’ve met. The girls let out surprised screams, grabbing onto each other before laughing.

“‘I love my boyfriend with all my heart, I truly do, but Madelyn Cline can sit on my face she’s so beautiful’.” Madelyn read, a small smirk on her face.

“Wow, that’s a lot… real.” Y/n said. Drew’s head whipped up, a look of confusion on his face.

“Is there something you need to tell us?” JD quipped, causing y/n to realize exactly what she said.

“No, no, no,” Y/n chuckled. “Madelyn Cline is very beautiful, but I am still very much feral for Drew Starkey.”

“You’ve got a thing for Camerons?” Madison asked, Madelyn and Drew leaning in with mischievous smiles on their faces.

“Yep, yep, that’s it.” Y/n laughed, nodding into the camera.

“‘Y/n is so beautiful, Drew Starkey can you fight?’” Y/n read with a chuckle, turning to look at Drew.

“Yes, yes I can.” Drew said into the camera, his face completely serious.

“Drew wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Madelyn clarified.

“Oh no, no, I will. Trust.” Drew raised his eyebrows, wrapping an arm around y/n’s shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The cast let out a collective “awww”, y/n giggling bashfully.

“‘Drew Starkey could rail me anyday. Respectfully’.” Drew chuckled nervously. Madelyn and Madison looked between each other, their jaws dropped.

“Once again, I’m flattered. But… that’s reserved for this one—” Drew grabbed y/n’s shoulder, shaking her playfully. Y/n immediately put her hands over her face, hoping to cover the flustered expression on her face.

“Oh my god.” Y/n mumbled into her hands, the other cast members bursting out into fits of laughter at Drew’s boldness.

“Alright, and cut!” The cameraman said, the cast letting out cheers as they got up from their seats. As they stood, y/n felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist before turning back to Drew.

“How you feeling, baby?” Drew hummed, grinning down at y/n cheekily.

“Flattered. Very.” Y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to Drew’s jaw.

“Well, a lot of those tweets certainly had some… good ideas.” Drew whispered.

“Starkey! You’re… too much.” Y/n felt her cheeks warm as Drew kissed her languidly.

“Am I wrong though, baby?” He teased.

“Let’s see when we get to the hotel.” Y/n said, stepping away from Drew and grabbing his hand as they made their way out of the studio… but she had a feeling they probably weren’t going to make it to the hotel.

[flwrstqr]

୨୧ BEWiTCHED ME : WHEN YOU WEAR GLASSES ╰——𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝖾, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 1OOOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, petnames, enha being very bad down TT ｡｡ ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

 DANi : wah happy new years, flueries~ ki's was so fun to write (> <)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 “woah, wait a second,” heeseung says, his voice low and teasing as he leans in, his nose almost brushing yours. “when did my baby start looking like the hottest nerd alive?” his hand gently cups your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek as he tilts your face up. you blink at him through the new glasses, flustered, but he’s clearly having the time of his life. “don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smirk that makes your heart race. “you’re making it hard to concentrate when all i want to do is kiss you.” his fingers toy with the frame of your glasses, and he chuckles softly. “honestly, though, you’re too cute. these just make it unfair for the rest of us.” before you can even respond, he dips his head, lips brushing yours. “yep, definitely my favorite look on you.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 “baby,” jay breathes, as his eyes trace every inch of your face like he’s seeing you for the first time. “you’re… wow.” he steps closer, his hand coming up to gently cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “how do you keep getting prettier? is it even legal to look this good?” he chuckles softly, shaking his head in disbelief, but his gaze stays locked on you, completely mesmerized. his fingers lightly adjust the frame of your glasses. “seriously, you look like a dream, princess,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “i don’t know if i should stare at you all day or buy you every pair of glasses on the planet just to see this look again.” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “you’re perfect.”

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 "angel, are you trying to kill me?" jake breathes out, eyes wide as they rake over your face, his fingers lifting to adjust the frames on your nose. “seriously, this? this should be illegal,” he mutters, his lips quirking into that signature smirk, but the way his ears flush gives him away. “jake, they’re just glasses—” you start, only for him to cut you off, pulling you closer by the waist. “just glasses? no, no, these are weapons of mass destruction, pretty girl,” he teases, leaning in till your noses almost touch. “honestly, how am i supposed to focus when you look this good? it’s distracting,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheek. when you swat at him, laughing, he just grins wider. “what? you want me to not tell my stunning girlfriend how perfect she is? sorry, can’t do that.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 it takes sunghoon a solid five minutes to notice, and even then, it’s only because you catch him squinting at you. “wait—hold on,” he starts, leaning closer, his head tilting slightly as his dark eyes narrow. “are you wearing… glasses?” he finally asks, blinking like he’s just uncovered the world’s biggest mystery. you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “wow, observant as ever, park sunghoon.” his lips curl into that boyish smile, the one that makes your heart trip over itself, as he reaches out to tug you closer by the wrist. “i mean, give me a break, princess. i was distracted by your face—glasses or not, it’s kind of unfair how good you look,” he teases, his voice soft but teasing as his fingers brush along the side of your face.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 "baby, you look so cute, i can't even," sunoo whispers, his voice dripping with adoration as he tugs you closer by the waist, his fingers brushing over the glasses he helped you pick out. "i knew these frames were the one, but i didn't know they'd make me fall in love with you all over again." “don’t look at me like that,” you mumble, your own face heating up, but he just grins, leaning his forehead against yours. “like what? like you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen?” he teases, his hands gently cupping your cheeks. “sunoo!” you protest, but he just laughs, stealing a quick peck on your lips. “what? just speaking the truth, baby. you’re perfect.”

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 "oh, you look so good," jungwon mutters, his eyes flickering between yours and the glasses perched on your nose, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. before you can respond, he’s already pushing the frames up to rest on top of your head, his hands slipping to cradle your face. “what are you—” your words are cut off as he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, then another, and another, each one lingering a little longer. “jungwon!” you mumble against his mouth, trying not to smile, but he just hums, completely unbothered, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “sorry, couldn’t help it,” he says, but the mischievous glint in his eyes says otherwise. “you’re too pretty, baby. i need all the kisses right now.” his lips brush yours again, and you can’t even pretend to be annoyed when he’s holding you like this.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 “look at you, my little nerd,” riki snickers, leaning in way too close to your face just to get a reaction. “stop calling me that!” you whine, trying to shove him away, but he’s already smirking, his hands darting out to gently steal your glasses. “give those back, riki!” you protest, but he’s too quick, slipping them onto his face. “oh my god, how do you even see with these? are you blind or something?” he teases, squinting dramatically as he stumbles around the room for effect. “you’re such a loser,” he laughs, dodging your attempt to grab them back. “riki, i swear—” you start, but he cuts you off by peeking over the glasses with a cheeky grin. “okay, okay, you’re cute though,” he admits, handing them back with a wink. as you put them on, he kisses your cheek and murmurs, “but still a nerd. my hot nerd.”

[lovelivision]

RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP!?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: geto suguru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 11.9k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friendships are hard, especially when the lines are so blurry you can't tell where the both of you stand. so what do you do when you catch feelings on top of all that ??

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, angst (?), swearing, making out, annoying drunk stranger, fingering, dirty talk, marking, titty worship, p in v sex, clit slapping, creampie, geto fucks mean, geto is a TEASE, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, i think that's all !!

Being friends with Geto Suguru isn’t hard… in theory but in practice it’s one of the most difficult things you’ve ever had to do. It’s especially difficult because he does things for you that feel like they’re pushing the boundaries of a normal friendship without actually doing anything weird.

Things like his insistence on bringing things for you when you’re feeling down, showing you extra care in how he talks to you, hanging out with you and having frequent movie nights, being attentive to your needs. While those things are innocuous in theory, it’s the way he treats you, talks to you and how it makes you feel that has your friendship feeling like it’s on a precarious ledge. Caught between pulling back or pushing over.

Sighing, your foot kicks at his sitting form, “Don’t you have something better to do tonight?”

“Like what?” His eyebrow raises at you, eyeing your lazy form, spread out comfortably on your couch.

You’d feel bad for taking up the whole couch if you weren’t so comfortable, “I don’t know, like a date? Hanging with friends? Going out on the town or whatever youths do.”

“Firstly, I’m older than you–”

Interjecting to add, “–Not by much!”

He only rolls his eyes, ignoring your interruption all together, “To your other points, I’m not interested in dating right now, and I am hanging out with a friend.”

Sighing louder than last time, foot pushing him enough to sway him, “Aren’t you bored of me?”

“No?” his brows pinching in confusion, “Should I be?” Hand grabbing your foot to stop it from kicking at him.

You pout, trying to pull yourself free of his grip, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t say stupid things,” he huffs, amused by your struggle. “I could ask you the same thing you know.”

“I like hanging out with you,” you grumble at him.

“Yeah, well, I feel the same,” finally letting go of your foot.

You’re feeling restless, he’s your friend, you know he’s your friend, and yet you can’t help hoping that your friendship is just a little bit more special. You groan and kick at him with both your feet.

“Woah, hey!” Both his hands grab at your ankles, pinning them down into the couch, “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“I’ve taken notice,” he’s trapping you with a pointed look, waiting for more of an explanation from you.

If you had an explanation, you’d give it to him but as of right now, you aren’t even sure if you’re aware of what you’re feeling enough to verbalise it to him. You deflate, looking back at him sheepishly, “I know you want to know what’s wrong, but I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Or you don’t want me to know?”

Pushing yourself up, you cock your head at him, “The result is the same despite my answer, no?”

“No.” His tone resolute, “I could help,” he returns.

You deliver a very plain, “You can’t.” He’s the cause of your confusion, talking to him could make it all so much worse and you don’t really want to deal with the fallout of all that.

“Woah, awful dismissive of me, I might be able to fix what’s wrong easily.”

Turning so you’re facing the screen, you try to focus on the plot, “You can fix what’s wrong right now by being quiet and watching the movie.”

“I was watching the movie, you distracted me,” he pokes lightly at your shoulder.

Shushing at him quickly, “Shut, I’m trying to listen.”

He doesn’t say anymore, just goes back to watching the movie in silence, probably following the plot better than you are because you’re sat closer to him like this and can’t help but sneak glances at him.

It’s not fair, he looks pretty like this, face illuminated by the soft glow of the television, seemingly entranced by the movie playing. While gazing over his features, you find yourself constantly looking back at his lips, heart stuttering in your chest. You wonder how kissing him would feel like, would it help, wait.

Prying your eyes off him, you desperately hope to be shown some kind of mercy, you shouldn’t want to kiss him, you shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him. You need to get a hold of yourself.

Unfortunately, you are not shown any mercy and all you can manage to think about is him, how soft his lips might be, how he would kiss you, would he be tentative… or would he kiss you like he’s done it a million times before.

Not even realising you’re staring at him again until he sighs and locks his eyes onto yours, “Are you aware you’re staring at me?”

Trying to play it cool by answering, “I was not staring.”

“Are you alright?” He’s growing a little concerned by your unusual behaviour tonight.

“I’m fine! Good even, just… a little lost in thought is all.” You feel guilty.

“And just what exactly are you thinking about?”

Your skin flares at his question, feeling embarrassed by your thoughts, “Nothing! General thoughts… you know…”

“Right…” He’s clearly sceptical, not believing your flimsy answers for even a second, “Have I done something to upset you?”

He’s too much for you right now, you try answering confidently but fail miserably, “No?”

Moving so his body is facing you, he gets into your space, worried by your answer, “Why don’t you sound sure?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions tonight?” You avoid his gaze, flustered by him suddenly so close to you. Still thinking about his lips on yours, in the back of your head thinking about his hands on your body.

“You’re being weird, I’m just concerned,” his hand reaches for your face, “Do you have a fever or something?” His knuckles rest on your cheek, gauging your temperature.

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you’re fumbling more than you want to, eyes rounded and shocked looking into his.

It feels like you grow warmer the longer his hand stays on your face, it’s becoming difficult to think. If you had a good reason, you would kick him out right now but you’re already concerning him and you’re trying so hard to be normal. This night is taking a very unfortunate turn.

His face twists, concern written all over it, “You feel a little warm, are you sure you’re okay?” Hand slipping from your cheek, moving to rest against the back of the couch.

Trying to keep your answers short, you give a simple, “I’m sure.”

Geto doesn’t know where to go from here, his silence is evidence of that. You don’t blame him though because you’re not really sure where to go from here either, the thoughts of his lips on yours linger in your mind and you feel as if you could die.

“I just…” He looks to you when you start talking, ready to hear whatever it is you have to say, “I was just thinking – and don’t make this weird – but I was thinking about… how you would kiss me…” your words trail off slightly, growing quieter and quieter with each word.

His eyes widen slightly in response before he switches back to his neutral expression, “I–”

“–I don’t wanna know, don’t talk actually,” you cut him off abruptly, too embarrassed to dissect this any further and certainly not willing to have a conversation with him about it, already regretting having admitted to thinking it.

He questions you, clearly caught between being entertained and somewhat concerned, “I’m not allowed to comment?”

“No.”

“Even though you’ve been thinking about how I would­–”

Hurriedly moving your hand to cover his mouth, hissing out, “Shush!”

You’re closer like this, the proximity flustering you, the silence awkward, Geto glares at you from under your hand. He has something to say and is showing clear disdain for your repeated interruptions.

His larger hand reaches up and wraps around your wrist, trying to gently pry your hand away but you hold steady. Growing frustrated with this little tug of war game you have going on, he uses more force to pull your hand down, grabbing your other hand as well. Restraining them both in your lap, keeping you still.

Exasperated when he asks, “Don’t you think you’re overeating slightly?”

“No.” You tug back on his grip but get nowhere.

“Why are you annoyed at me over this? They’re your thoughts,” he reminds.

You’re irritated with how right he is, it’s not his fault you’re thinking like this, but it doesn’t change the fact that sitting right next to him makes it difficult for you to think of anything other than how soft his lips might be, or if he’ll hold you still while he kisses you, or if­–

He barks out a quick laugh, “You wanna kiss me that bad?”

Realising you were staring at his lips again you feel like you might spontaneously combust, struggling against his hold and huffing out, “Shut up, just forget I even said anything.”

He sounds restrained and incredibly serious when he murmurs back, “Might not be able to if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Don’t make this even more embarrassing for me, Suguru! It’s your fault,” you accuse indignantly.

Lips quirking evilly, “Oh? So, you want me to fix it then?”

“You should! Take a little responsibility,” you grumble out at him, all pouty and annoyed.

Leaning in closer to press you, “Do you want me to kiss you? Do you think it would help?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” you look to his lips again, gaze getting a little lost as you do.

If Suguru were being honest with you, he’d tell you how much you’re killing him when you look at him like that but he’s stubborn and a tease, so instead he says, “Eyes up here.”

Dragging your eyes back to his and staring daggers, completely pissed at him but mostly yourself for being so obvious again, “Do you think it would help?”

“You’d stop wondering,” he shrugs easily, like this is all so incredibly normal and not uncharted territory for the both of you.

“I don’t want this to make our friendship weird,” feeling pathetic as you look at him, you’re not even sure if what you have together is as simple as a friendship, it feels like so much more. At least, you’re kind of hoping it is, kissing him could do irreparable damage and you don’t just mean in terms of how you act around one another but specifically how you feel about him.

“I won’t let it,” he assures.

“I’m not worried about you…”

He’s taken aback by your small admission, it’s not clear enough for him to make any real conclusions from it or confront you on anything just now but he knows it makes his heart beat faster and flusters him slightly. In all his years of casual dating and serious relationships, you’re the only person to have ever made him feel like such a fool.

“It’s up to you then,” he smiles softly.

You aren’t sure if it’s worth the risk but if this is the only chance you’ll get then you don’t know if you want to risk letting it go by either, “I think… yes.”

Playing dumb, he asks, “‘Yes’ what?”

Your tone lowers again, confident answer short lived when he teases you, “Yes… I want you to kiss me…”

“You’re sure?” He asks but his hands are already moving up your body, one resting against the side of your neck, touch gentle and light.

“I mean… I’m not sure if this is a good idea but I’m sure I want you to kiss me.”

He huffs lightly in disbelief, breath tickling against your lips, “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“You…” Frown dusting your features as you utter it, eyes already focused back on his lips.

He doesn’t say anymore after that, faltering in his movements a bit but ultimately moving in completely and pressing his lips to yours delicately. It’s featherlight, kiss shallow and simple, like he’s holding back. It’s still enough to have your head full, full of thoughts of him, of how soft his lips are, how gentle his kisses are.

Geto pulls back all too soon for your liking, putting some distance between the two of you, head cocking to the side as he looks you over, “Curiosity satisfied.”

“Is that really how you would want to kiss me?”

“What?”

At his question you’re suddenly all too aware how bold yours was, “I just… It’s nothing, sorry.” Fumbling over yourself, not wanting to hurt his feelings, “It was nice! It was a nice kiss.”

“No, no,” he squints at you, “Go on… say what you want.”

It’s quiet for a moment, your hesitance clear, “…Did you… kiss me how you wanted to?”

“I think if I kissed you how I wanted,” pausing to lean in closer, “You might pass out or something.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not my first kiss or anything,” you roll your eyes at him and his ego, “I was just curious, if that’s really how you’d kiss me then that’s all there is to it, it was a nice kiss,” you shrug at him.

“Why am I starting to feel like I’m being assessed?”

“If you feel that way then that’s on you.” Trying so hard to play it cool, like you can’t tell he was holding back, like you don’t want him to kiss you more, “Do you wanna go back in the movie? To where we were before?”

As you get up to move off the couch and find the remote, Suguru is pulling you back down to him, one hand gently holding the front of your throat. You don’t get a second to think about all the movements he just made, his lips on yours, rushed, like he’s suddenly, incredibly desperate to kiss you.

Barely able to keep up with him, head dizzy from the whiplash, this isn’t at all how he kissed you before. You’re basically panting against him when he does pull back, allowing you the small moment to catch your breath.

His thumb pulls down on your chin lightly, “Open your mouth more,” his eyes are lidded as he looks at you, tone deeper than before.

Obeying him wordlessly and then he’s kissing you again, tongue in your mouth. It’s all messy and rushed and has you losing your mind. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he pulls your body closer to his, hand moving to the back of your head.

When he sucks your tongue into his mouth and licks at you, you can’t stop the moan that leaves you. Swallowed down by Geto in an appreciative manner, his kiss lingers for a while longer, making you dizzy and thoughtless. He pulls back from you, connected by a string of saliva that snaps when he licks at his lower lip.

The look on your face is dumbstruck, eyes big and wet as you gaze up at him in a dazed manner. It makes him feel feral, not able to help the way he leans back in and presses more short, sloppy kisses to your swollen lips.

There’s a pause before you can regain your faculties enough to say anything to him and even then, the only thing you can manage is, “I… uhm…”

“Was that better?” He’s trying to be light-hearted about it, but his lips are swollen as well, and his eyes are lidded, and he looks… “You didn’t pass out did you?” His head lowers so his eyes catch yours.

Your brain feels fuzzy and all you can think about it how you’ve never been kissed like that before, that you want to keep being kissed like that, “What? No… I just… wow.”

“Live up to your expectations?”

“I didn’t really have any, I was only curious…” Smiling big at him, you add, “But yeah, maybe even exceeded them.”

“You aiming to boost my ego, or did I really kiss you stupid?” He can’t help the way he leans in again, just shy of your lips.

Mouth on yours before you get to answer or refute what he’s accused, you don’t stop him though, allowing him to kiss you fully, deeply. One of his hands on the side of your face, holding you, the other grips at your hip, almost tugging you in closer.

Before you lose focus again, you part to gasp out, “I don’t know if–” interrupted by his lips on yours, hand tangling into his hair to pull him back, he groans at the force of the tug, “Suguru, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep–”

“–Just another kiss, one more…” breathless in how he asks, mouth hot on yours, tongue already in your mouth.

It’s almost too much, he’s so insistent, he’s kissing you like he might never get to again, like he’s trying to get the most out of this. He might actually have you passing out, it’s not even as if you really want him to stop but that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?

Pulling back, he sucks on your lower lip before nipping at it, the whimper he pulls from you is embarrassing and weak and you’re facing an internal conflict of so many emotions right now but mostly you’re struck by how badly you want to sleep with him.

You hadn’t realised his hand had snuck under your shirt, warm and large against your side, sending a shiver down your spine. The breathlessness you’re hit with has your skin feeling hot as you try to stumble out your words, “I, uh, think we should stop… here.”

“Why? Am I not a good kisser? Are you not enjoying yourself?” A smile creeps onto his face, “You sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Don’t.” Your head tucks down and onto his chest, forehead leaning against him, “Please don’t embarrass me.”

He wraps his arms around your body, embracing you, “Can’t help it.”

You stay like this for probably longer than you should, enjoying the moment too much for someone who’s about to go back to being just his friend.

Geto breaks the silence first, speaking into the top of your head, “Is your curiosity satisfied or are you going to start kicking me again?”

“I can’t promise I’ll never kick you again but yeah… I’m satisfied.”

He laughs against you, “Alright, well, if you’re ever curious again… you know where to find me.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It’s been about a week since you crossed a line you probably shouldn’t have in your friendship with Geto, and like the incredibly brave individual you are… you have been ignoring him.

Not on purpose though, you intend on replying to all his messages… but then you get nervous and freak yourself out and stop short of sending anything back. From his messages, you can tell he’s getting increasingly more worried… or maybe frustrated… you’re not sure, there is only so much you can infer over text.

Maybe you should reply, looking at his last message that reads, ‘seriously? answer me. today.’ Oh yeah… he’s annoyed, you have no idea how to reply to him, maybe something simple? Or maybe a long paragraph overexplaining yourself… or maybe–

Your phone screen changes to Shoko’s caller ID, saved by the metaphorical bell, “Hey! What’s up?”

She sounds a bit short when she answers you, “Are you coming tonight?”

“Tonight…” You trail off, completely blanking on what the hell she’s talking about.

Her reply coming incredibly deadpan and disappointed, “You forgot.”

“No noo, I would never forget about…” The rest of your sentence dropping off, silence falling over the line.

She fills in the gaps for you, “The stupid party that’s being thrown by our stupid friends to celebrate the stupid event that is a boring, normal, Friday night.”

She already sounds over it and you’re pretty sure she would’ve only just got there, “Okay, well… I now feel significantly better about the fact that I actually had forgotten what tonight was.”

“Yeah well I wish I had forgotten too because this is boring without you.”

“Didn’t you only just get there?”

“I feel like that’s beside the point,” you can feel her eyeroll through the phone, “So, when are you getting here?”

Sighing as you ask, “Do I really have to come?”

Not missing a single beat when she shoots back, “I’m here which means yes, you do.”

You go quiet for a moment, “…Will Suguru be there?”

“You’re more likely to know than me,” she sounds confused, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but surely you don’t think you can avoid him forever.”

“Not forever… just tonight,” you really don’t feel like running into him in person, not when you can barely get your head on straight long enough to message him back.

“I haven’t seen him, and he didn’t sound all that interested when this was first planned so I doubt he will show up.”

“You’re not just lying to get me there, are you?”

“Of course not,” it’s always been hard to tell when she’s joking but you’re pretty sure Suguru isn’t there, if you had been replying to him, you probably would’ve ended up hanging out together tonight just to avoid that pointless party.

Deciding to take the risk, you acquiesce, “Alright, I’ll be there soon, just give me a bit to put on something that isn’t pyjamas.”

Getting out of the apartment will be good for you, that and you’ll have the chance to catch up with Shoko, it’s been a while since you last hung out.

“Just come in your pyjamas.”

“Okay, now you’re being unreasonable,” you chuckle.

She groans through the phone, “Gojo and I just made eye contact, that’s like asking to be trapped in a conversation for at least an hour.”

You smile at her and her exaggeration, “That’s really funny, tell him I said hi.”

“Don’t hang up on me–”

The line goes dead as you hang up on her.

Nearly an hour has passed by the time you get to the party, but when you make eye contact with Shoko across the room – still stuck in conversation with Gojo – it looks like a century has passed for her.

Walking up to them both, you grab Gojo by the sides of his arms and shake him, making a loud noise to scare him as you do. He just about dies then and there, head whipping around to see it’s just you and gripping a hand over his chest.

He’s a little breathless when he scolds you, “You scared the fuck outta me, what the hell?”

“I thought it would be funny,” you smile bright at him, out the corner of your eye seeing Shoko fighting a smile and hiding it behind her drink.

“It wasn’t,” he half pouts.

“It kinda was,” Shoko interjects.

He just continues to pout over how badly you got him.

“Hi Satoru,” you chirp at him, trying to be as sweet as possible for scaring the living daylights out of him.

“Yes, hello,” he fights a smile when greeting you back, and then his face twists as if suddenly remembering something, “Hey! What happened with you and Suguru?”

Taken aback by his abruptness, “What?”

Staring intently at you, seemingly desperate to know your business, “I know something happened, you gotta tell me what.”

Honestly, you would’ve thought Geto would’ve told him by now, seeing as how they’re sort of attached at the hip, “He hasn’t told you?”

“He’s insistent that nothing is wrong.”

“Then nothing’s wrong.”

“I know something is wrong and I also know you’re dodging him because he made me text you to see if you’d reply and you replied within the same minute,” he squints at you accusatorily.

Arms crossing over your chest as you size him up, “You sent me a photo of the cat that hangs out in your neighbourhood as bait? That’s messed up Satoru.”

“I was investigating,” he defends.

“No, you were being nosy, just like you are now.” Something occurs to you very suddenly, “Wait, if you’re here… and I’m here… where is Suguru?”

“Here, obviously,” he shrugs.

Turning, you glare at Shoko who raises her hands in defence, “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t lie, I really haven’t seen him. I’ve been trapped in conversation with this idiot the whole time.”

“Trapped? That’s so mean Shoko,” Gojo plays up his hurt, sulking and giving her the saddest eyes he can muster. It unsurprisingly has no effect on her.

He’s here somewhere, you need to leave before he sees you. You’re so annoyed at yourself for not connecting that Gojo being here obviously meant Geto was going to be here too, especially since he wasn’t with you.

Spinning, you go for the front door you came through not that long ago, getting it open a crack before a hand above your head closes it. Turning around, you come face to face with Suguru, a very annoyed Suguru. Polite smile painted on his face but his eyebrow twitches slightly.

His weight supported by his hand on the door, leaning down to you, “And where are you going?”

“I was just gonna… head home… get an early night?” Looking away from him as you lie poorly, not able to look at him without thinking about how he kissed you.

He points out, “You just got here though.”

“Yeah, it’s just… not my scene…” In your defence, not a complete lie.

“Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.” He leans down to catch your eyes with his, sick of you avoiding eye contact.

You’re only able to look at him incrementally, eyes flicking from his, to the wall behind him, “No there’s no reason for me to be avoiding you, I don’t know why you would think that.”

“Oh good! That means you can stay then,” face scrunching with his – now – less than polite smile. Clearly growing frustrated with how you’re refusing to communicate with him properly.

You have no excuses to give, nothing good or even remotely believable anyways, “I uhh–”

Cutting you off to give an ultimatum, “–Either we’re leaving and talking like adults or you’re staying right here and suffering through this whole night with me right by your side.”

His choice in wording disgruntles you, locking eyes to say, “It doesn’t cause me suffering to be beside you, Suguru,” you want to make at least that much clear.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile, “Good. Then you won’t mind me not leaving your side.”

Weighing your options, you don’t know what would be better right now. On the one hand you’d get to leave but then you’d have to tell him about how much you’re affected by the line you crossed, about how you’re developing feelings for him that you shouldn’t have indulged in. On the other, you stay but he lingers around you all night and you’re left haunted by all the things you want to say but can’t quite bring yourself to.

“Let’s go back to everyone then,” you smile back at him.

His face drops, “You don’t wanna talk about it that bad?”

“Suguru, you’re looking for answers I don’t even know if I can give you.”

He relents and takes a step back from you, “Fine. But just so you know, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Waiting for you to want to talk first seems to be his main goal but you can see just how impatient he’s getting.

You ignore his comment and walk past him back to Gojo and Shoko in the other room, they’re both exactly where you left them. It’s awkward, for you anyways, you don’t know about them or everyone else here, but you feel awkward.

It carries on for the whole night, it’s been a couple hours now and Suguru is still just following you around wordlessly. Only speaking to others when spoken too, engaging in some conversation, only to cut it short when you move on.

This really isn’t fun for you, normally not even bothering to come to house parties like this and only doing this as a favour to Shoko but she’s gone home now, and you’re left here with just Geto. You’d leave too, but you have a feeling Geto is going to follow you home, or at the very least make you talk to him before you try leaving and you’re just… so not in the mood.

Sighing softly to yourself as you walk into the kitchen, somehow managing to shake your tail, for now. Taking the small reprieve as a chance to breathe and think, which is cut short when some stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Hi! You’re really hot, do you want a drink? I can make you a drink. I’ve never seen you here before and trust me – I’d remember you.” He’s slurring his words slightly, “So, drink? You wan– I can get you a–”

He’s really forward, and drunk, it’s making you uncomfortable, especially since you’re far to sober and far too annoyed to have to deal with drunk men. “–I’m good, thank you, I’m not drinking.”

“Oh, come on! Jus one drink, it’ll loosen you up,” he moves in to elbow your shoulder lightly, “You’re too hot to be­– to be such a downer, maybe a smile would help.”

Completely unamused and slowly shuffling back away from him, “I think I’d prefer you just leave me alone; I’m not interested.”

“Don– don’t be like that,” he sulks at you.

Your back collides with someone’s front and looking up you can see it’s your missing stalker of the night. As annoyed at Geto as you are, you are endlessly thankful for his timing, physically feeling yourself relax now that he’s here.

Geto glares down at the pushy guy, “She’s not interested.”

“Oh man, I didn’t know she had– had a boyfriend, you know you should keep an eye on her,” the drunk idiot leers at you, “She’s kind of a tease, leading me on,” he shrugs.

Your face grimaces at his words and the way he eyes you, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Suguru moves in front of you, shielding you from him, his lip twitches at this guy’s words, “Excuse me?”

“No, well… I jus mean she didn’t tell me­–”

“–She said she wasn’t interested, that was enough,” Geto’s tone is growing more irritated by the moment.

“Suguru, let’s just go, it’s fine,” you tug on the hem of his jacket, not really wanting to have to deal with the fallout of whatever may happen if this idiot keeps unwittingly provoking Geto. He tries his best, but he has a breaking point, and he tends to hit it pretty quick when you’re involved.

He glances back at you, “It’s not fine.”

“Okay, it’s not but I kinda can’t stand this guy and this party sucks and I’m annoyed, and I don’t wanna be here anymore,” you feel a little pathetic for whinging but you’re so drained and this guy was your breaking point.

All his attention drops from that guy to you, his hands coming up to either side of your face, taking in how tired you look. Thumbs stroking high on your cheekbones, “Alright, let’s leave.”

Relief in your bones at the fact you’re about to be gone from here, “Thank you.”

From behind Geto you can see the drunk take the opportunity to slip away, apparently smart enough to use this distraction to his advantage. If Geto notices, he doesn’t say anything, clearly done with him, all attention on you now.

He hums at you, asking, “How’d you get here?”

Your eyes flick back to his, “I didn’t drive, if that’s what you’re asking,” you took an uber, you thought you’d either catch a ride with Shoko, or you’d take another uber home.

“You’re riding with me then.” His large hand takes yours, “Come on,” he’s tugging you through the house behind him.

The car ride has been quiet, you can feel your head drooping and your eyes closing, very nearly falling asleep. That is until, you notice Geto isn’t taking you to your house, instead heading towards his.

Turning to face him, you ask, “Why are we going back to yours?”

Without turning to look at you, he replies, “Because you’ve been avoiding me, so I am now forcing you to spend time with me.”

He’s decidedly not funny. Sighing as you try to chide him, “Suguru–”

Finally glancing your way only to speak over you, “–Don’t ‘Suguru’ me, my place is closer and you’re tired, if you weren’t being so weird around me ever since I k–”

“–Shhh, be quiet.” Your cheeks suddenly feel warm at the memory of how insistent his kisses were.

“All I’m saying is, if you weren’t being so weird around me, you’d come back to mine tonight anyways.”

It’s frustrating to you that he’s right, you normally would just go back to his and crash in his bed and then you’d make him breakfast the next morning to make up for the fact that you’d taken up his whole bed.

The only thing you can think to say is a flat, “…Fine.” Crossing your arms and looking out the car window the rest of the short drive.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Back at his apartment, he lends you some clothes to sleep in. It’s all incredibly intimate, showering in his bathroom, using the spare toothbrush you keep here, wearing his clothes, has your friendship always been this intimate or are you just looking at it in a new light.

Leaving his bathroom, you find him in his room, getting his bed ready for you to sleep in, you stand awkwardly at the foot of it, “I’ll just sleep on your couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you always sleep in the bed with me.”

“Yeah but…” Your brows settle into a deep frown, “Do you not feel weird?”

He drops the blanket back onto the bed, exasperation with you clear, “I said to you – I wouldn’t let it affect our friendship, and that’s what I’m doing.” Turning to look at you before adding, “You’re the one making it weird.”

“I know that…” You also know that you were the one who said you weren’t worried about him.

His arms are crossed as he looks you over, “I’m gonna shower now, you don’t have to sleep in the bed, but I think you should, you know firsthand how awful that couch is.”

“Go have your shower,” you shoo him out of the room, standing in the middle of it, alone, considering what you should do.

The couch really is atrocious, it’s part of the reason why you started sleeping in his bed when you visited. He always says he’ll get a nicer couch or a blow-up mattress for you, but he never does, and you always end up in his bed anyways.

Deciding you’re too drained to think any harder about all of this, you crawl into his bed and make yourself comfortable. Everything is so frustrating to you right now, have you always felt this confused about your friendship or were the lines blurred for so long that you’re having trouble understanding where you both stand.

The irony of the situation is annoying and almost laughable because if it were about anyone else you’d be hitting up Geto and asking for his advice on it all.

When he comes back into the room, he shuffles around a bit before turning off the lights and getting into bed beside you. You’re lying on your side with your back to him, pretending to already be asleep.

His voice cuts through the quiet of the room, “I miss you.”

Your reaction to it is almost visceral, how are you meant to reply to that. It doesn’t help you feel better at all, only leaving you longing for something you don’t know if you’re allowed to claim.

Your friendship has always been on a precarious ledge but it’s only now that you let yourself acknowledge the disgusting depth of your feelings for him.

You mumble into the pillow, “I’m right here.”

“Then why do you feel so far away?”

Readjusting, you rotate so you’re facing him, not completely prepared for him to already be facing you. Propped up on his elbow, closer than your poor heart was ready for. You lower your head, so you don’t have to look at his face, “I wasn’t purposefully ignoring you, I really did want to reply.”

He pushes, “So why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know what to say…”

“What can I do to help?” He lowers himself down to your level, head on his bicep.

You still avoid his gaze, “Nothing, you can’t do anything.”

“You’re being–”

“–You are the problem, Suguru, there is nothing you can do to help but get out of my head,” you meet his eyes, frown prominent on your face, “You and your stupid kiss, you made it all a thousand times worse for me.”

“Making out with me was so life changing that you can’t get it out of your head, and you’re annoyed at me for that? You’re the one who wanted to know what it was like.” He’s trying to keep his tone light-hearted but he’s struggling, seemingly growing more irritated by it all.

You grumble at him, discontent, “You don’t need to point out the obvious, stupid.”

A noise of disagreement comes from him, “Well, I feel like I kinda do, since you’re overreacting.”

“I am not overreacting.”

“You are though.”

“No because it’s not just…” you stop short, “…Whatever, I’m going to sleep so be quiet.” He smiles at you like you’re completely endearing, which only frustrates you further.

“The only reason you would be this annoyed is because you want to kiss me again, or more…” his hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head up towards him, “You tell me, are you still curious?”

“Shut up,” you huff out, going to move away only for his hand to slide to your cheek, holding you still.

“You haven’t asked me, you know.”

“What?”

“What if I want to kiss you again? What if I want to do more?” His forehead rests against yours, “You’ve been so caught up in your own head, acting like an idiot over this, that you’ve not even asked yourself about what I want.”

“I am not an idiot.”

“No, but you’ve certainly been acting like one.” His hand slides from your face, down the side of your body, landing on your hip. “At first I thought it was cute, the curiosity, the unawareness,” his hand tugs you in closer to him, body against yours. “But now… now I’m growing impatient.”

Your head feels fuzzy, pressed up against him and that seems to be the only thing your brain is processing right now, “I’m confused.”

“It’s really quite simple,” he leans in, lips ghosting against yours.

You want so badly to kiss him, breath catching in your chest at the way his lips tickle against yours. Your attention solely on the way he might kiss you.

“You like me, and while it’s endearing to watch you fumble your way through the realisation, it’s killing me to know you’re all caught up on how I kissed you and not even being able to get in contact with you.”

“What? What?” Your brain takes a second to catch up, “I do not– you can’t know– just– what?”

“I can know, you know how? Because you’re painfully obvious about it. So honest, telling me about how you’re thinking of me, not able to look at me without looking at my lips,” a light laugh leaves him at your expression, “And it’s sweet, really. But I’m getting annoyed by the fact that you’re so obsessed with your own feelings that you’ve failed to consider mine.”

He’s giving you so much whiplash right now, “You–”

“–You think I kissed you like that just ‘cause?” He frowns at you, “I kissed you like that because I wanted to, I feel I was a little obvious about it all actually.”

“I’ve been so worried about ruining our friendship,” you feel so pathetic when you say it.

“I know,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “But I’ve hoped for nothing more.” He sighs, “I wanted you to come to me on your own, to talk to me about it but instead you hid from me.”

“What was I supposed to think? Through my eyes, I was stupid and asked you to kiss me just because I was thinking about it, only to not stop thinking about it, and then realise I like you, my friend.” You pull back from him slightly, “How was I meant to talk to you about it?”

“You think I’d kiss just any friend because they simply wondered about what it would be like?” his brow lifts at you, “Don’t you think our friendship has always been a little too intimate to just be a friendship?”

“Nothing was ever said… how was I supposed to know?”

“Okay, well, let me be perfectly clear,” he tugs you in close again, eyes meeting yours, like he’s going to say something incredibly important, only to plant his lips on yours in a full kiss.

Hand holding you to him tight, like he needs you to stay pressed up against him. His mouth on yours hot and consuming, kiss messy, tongue licking at yours. An involuntary moan gets caught in your chest and your hand moves to his hair, tangling in it.

Parting to pant out, “I like you–” kissing you again, “I like kissing you–” lips desperate against yours, “I want to do so much more–” he never parts from you long at all, barley willing to but needing to get his words out.

This is a feeling that you’re never going to be able to forget, the first time he kissed you overwhelming enough and now it’s like he’s completely following his instinct. No critical thinking happening in his head or yours. All your thoughts wash away from you, slipping through your fingers before it even occurs to you to form a thought.

Less scared now, throwing caution to the wind, not worrying about how you should stop, how you can’t ruin the fragility of your friendship. It doesn’t matter anymore, not when he already knows how you feel, not when he seems to feel the same, not when it feels this good.

He mumbles against you, “That clear enough?”

“No,” you huff back, “I think… I’m still a little confused.”

“Well, in that case,” he smirks before kissing you again.

Hand moving to your thigh, sliding it across your skin before grabbing at your knee and crooking your leg to rest on his hip. Leaning into you slightly, using his weight to push back on you, rolling the pair of you until he’s on top. Forearm holding himself over you, other hand still on your knee, holding you flush to him.

You gasp up at him when his erection ruts into your core, lips parting messily, spit connecting the two of you. A shudder runs down his spine when he looks down at you, at how you’re looking up at him. All big, wet eyes and kiss swollen lips, it’s like he feels all his insides softening for you in that moment, in the most sickeningly affectionate way.

His eyes suddenly look lost, and you don’t know why, going to say something only for his lips to land on yours again. Short, firm kisses planted on your lips over and over again, barely able to return them before he’s pulling back, just to do it again.

It’s sweet but it’s frustrating you, your hands are eventually grabbing at either side of his face and forcing his mouth onto yours, lips meshing together, kissing him fully. Tongue in his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. He moans at how you’rekissing him, at how both your legs are now wrapped around his waist.

Practically clinging to him, lips locked to his, your need making your body hot and head fuzzy. You’re trying so hard to not come across desperate for him, but you really can’t help the way your hips seek out his, grinding up into him.

His voice shakes with a moan, breaking the kiss, “–Ohh fuck – hah –” a breathless kind of laugh leaving him, "A little eager, aren’t you?"

"Should we stop then?” You ask with a smile, hands untangling and pushing at his shoulders.

He rushes out, “No no, I didn’t say that,” he pulls your arms, so they’re wrapped around his neck again, “Come back,” a light laugh leaves him, pressing kisses all over your face, lingering on your lips.

“So… you don’t want to stop?”

“Absolutely not, be as needy as you want,” he looks down between where his hips are resting against yours, his cock twitching in his pants, “Hell… be needier.”

“I don’t know… maybe this is all happening too fast,” you say it light heartedly, teasing him, “I mean… we are just friends.”

“Just friends?” He takes personal issue with that, even if he can tell you’re goading him, “Just friends but you’re grinding your pussy all over me?” His hand slips into the front of your borrowed sleep shorts, two fingers rubbing between your folds over your panties.

Gasp leaving you, chest stuttering, “S-Suguru, I–”

“Letting your friend touch you like this, hmm?” He pulls your panties to the side, “Fuck– this wet for your friend?”

Your back arches against the bed when his fingers slip over your clit, struggling to get your words out, “I– mmph– I get it, m’sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He smiles sweetly at you but two of his fingers are slipping inside you, quirking up and rubbing at just the right spot.

God, your eyes roll into the back of your head, cunt pulsing around his fingers so needily. Hands grabbing at him, tangling in his long hair, gasping for air you don’t really need but feeling like you can’t breathe from how he’s touching you.

“What are you sorry for, pretty?” He wants you back on track, he wants to hear you stumble out your apology to him.

“I-I’m sorry – hnnn – f-for…” your mouth drops open in a moan when his thumb rubs at your clit, “You’re not jus– you’re not just my friend – oh! You’re more– you mean more– Ah! Ah!” You can’t think, not when he adds another finger to your pussy, stretching you so open.

He leans in, fingers not stopping, “You mean it?”

It’s a question made to tease you but with your gooey brain, you look up at him so earnestly and answer, “Mhm, yeah.” Nodding your head firmly at him, even when your eyes look so fucked out.

Soft squelching noises fill the room with how his fingers fuck into you, your cunt clamping tight down around them. Walls so hot and wet that it’s driving him crazy, imagining how it would feel to have you wrapped so snug around his neglected cock.

He wants so badly to rip off your pants, so he can see just how well you’re taking his fingers but you’re pulsing so rhythmically around him, and your eyes roll with how good you feel, making the nicest expressions for him that he can’t even tear his eyes away from your face if he wanted to.

“Oh, you’re really cute right now,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, his heart stammering at how your wet eyes sparkle at him, at how your bottom lip wobbles.

Pouting up at him, “You don’t– ah! think– think I’m cute all the time?”

“I think you’re downright adorable all the time,” he laughs airily, “But especially right now,” he’s gazing so intently at your face, “Because, I’m pretty sure…” his thumb speeds up on your clit, “…You’re about to cum all over my fingers.”

Oh, how his words effect you so deeply, his tone, the cockiness and if he weren’t touching you so right you wouldn’t find it as arousing as you do but you feel like you could cry from just how overwhelming it all is.

Shaking your head at him as if to say ‘no, you’re not about to cum.’  

“No?” He pouts at you mockingly, “You sure?”

Denying it really doesn’t get you anywhere, especially since he can feel how you tighten around his fingers, how your gooey cunt pulses for him. Your back arching meanly, legs wanting so badly to kick against the air. Hand tugging at his hair as you gasp, broken moans leaving you.

“I mustn’t be doing this right then,” he hums at you in thought, slowing his movements slightly, “Should I stop then? Change up what I’m doing?”

The thought of him stopping now, or changing what he’s doing kills you, almost literally. Your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently at him, “Don’t stop– hnn– don’t– please,” begging him with your eyes.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nicely,” his tone so sweet on you.

He doesn’t change anything, keeps fucking you with his fingers in the way that’s driving you crazy. His mouth waters at how your pussy gushes for him, dick leaking into his pants, losing his fucking mind at how he’s able to finally touch you like this, how you’re letting him touch you like this, even begging for it.

Muscles pulling taut, hearing and sight going fuzzy, “I– ohh– Sugu I can’t– I’m gonna–”

“You can,” dragging it out in a singsong, “Doing so well for me, pretty.”

Biting on your lip to hold back all the moans tumbling from them, hands pulling at him as you struggle to breathe through it. Chest stuttering as your cunt clamps down around his fingers, pulling him closer to you and planting your lips on his, desperately kissing him as you cum all over his fingers. Tongue licking into his mouth, his own moans spilling into the kiss.

Panting against your open mouth to say, “Just came all over your friends’ fingers,” his smile taunting and bright.

Your head lolls to the side, “So you really do just like teasing me, huh?”

“Pretty sure I said I couldn’t help it,” his fingers slip from your core, sucking them into his mouth, licking them clean in a display so obscene that your skin feels warm.

If he were a lesser man, he’d cum from licking himself clean, groaning around his fingers, mostly for himself but also somewhat to embarrass you. Loving how you squirm, and your face pulls up in embarrassment. All dazed and stupid looking from your orgasm, it makes his heart skip and his dick jerk.

You shock him when you tug your shirt up and over your head, moving to pull at his but he’s too distracted by your tits to make any move other than to lean down and press wet kisses all over your chest.

“Suguru– hah– your shirt,” your fingers still pull at the fabric.

“You can’t–” he sucks and licks at your nipple, relishing in the reactions and sounds he’s pulling from you, “–You can’t show me your tits and expect me to not touch them.”

When he looks up at you, his eyes are lazy and dazed, his tongue drooling all over your boobs. Moving to plant more firm and wet kisses all over your unbelievably soft skin, sucking to leave behind his mark. Wanting to leave behind marks that he will see when he wakes up tomorrow, marks that he will leave marks over so that they never go away, so he will always have evidence of how he touched you. Of how you let him touch you.

Groping at all your exposed skin, pulling at you, fingers tugging at your nipple, while he salivates all over the other one. Your legs tug his hips down into yours, rubbing your clothed cunt all over him, wanting him to fuck you so badly. He’s working you up so unfairly, already making you cum and then playing with your tits in a way that has you itching to be full of his dick.

“Suguru,” he ruts his hips back down into you but doesn’t remove his mouth from you, so you pull at his hair harshly, “Please.”

He moans at how you pull at him, eyes lidded, “So demanding.”

“You’re taking too long.”

He tuts at you, nipping lightly at the skin between your tits, “You’re just impatient.”

“Yeah, I am,” untangling your legs from him, you shuffle your shorts and panties down and off your body, “Are you going to help?”

“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The desire to lick at your pussy, make out with your cunt, is huge but with how you look at him, so needy and impatient, he needs to shove his dick in you. Now.

When you go to tug at his shirt, he lets you, letting you pull it off him completely, goose bumps breaking out across his skin with how you rake your nails delicately over him. The affection he holds for you feels like it grows tenfold at how you look at him, how tenderly you touch him.

“You’re so pretty,” you’re mumbling it out at him before you’re really registering that you’ve thought it, let alone spoke it.

His head drops into the crook of your neck, “So sweet on me, got me forgetting why I waited so long to say anything.”

You grin at him, “Because you’re stupid.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he sneers back at you before shuffling back to pull his pants off. Finding immense joy in how your smug little smile drops from your face when his cock is free, tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking profusely, precum dribbling down the sides of his dick.

Moving to get up before even really thinking about it, wanting to touch him. Only to fall into the pillows when his large hand pushes you back by your sternum. Looking to him just as he leans in, lips brushing yours so softly you’d think you’d imagined it if he didn’t immediately follow it up with a firm kiss.

“I want to touch you,” hands already finding their way back to his shoulders, his long hair tickling against skin.

His head is dipping low to watch how he moves his hands down your body, brushing against your inner thighs, opening your legs for him more, “Well, I want to fuck you.” He’s not capable of taking his eyes off your gooey cunt, so wet for him.

Goading him with your words, “What are you waiting for? A formal invitation?”

“Sharp tongue for someone so sensitive,” he muses, fingers slipping through your folds, gently over your clit to make you jolt, as if to prove his point.

Not giving you a chance to say another snarky comment, his fingers dipping into your hole again, fingers stretching you open obscenely, pulling back covered in cum from your previous orgasm and fresh slick. It’s almost embarrassing how soaked you are, at least it would be if he didn’t seem almost overjoyed at the sight.

His hand covered in your mess moves to his dick, stroking himself, lubing himself so you can take him easier. Wanting to rub your thighs together, to squirm at how he languidly pumps at his cock, how his brows upturn and his mouth gapes slightly.

Palm warm against your inner thigh, holding you still, moving so he can tap his dick against your clit, smiling at how your body jerks.

“Don’t be a tease,” your hand moves for his, but he grabs at you before you reach him, looping his fingers with yours.

His tone is cheerful and bright, “But you look so cute when you’re frustrated.”

“I’ll leave,” you threaten, not even a little convincingly, way too horny to be taken seriously.

“Really?” He raises a brow at you, intrigued, “I don’t think you’d get very far,” mocking pout settling on his features.

Nothing if not stubborn and true to your word, you push him back and roll to get out of the bed defiantly. Barely making it to the edge of the mattress when his hands are on your sides and manhandling you back into your previous position. Spreading your legs wide and rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds, just dipping into your hole before repeating the previous movements.

Biting his lower lip as he watches, his precum smearing all over your messy cunt, “Told you, you wouldn’t get very far.”

Your head rolls at how he dips his dick in more, beginning to stretch you open, his hips stuttering forwards, hand slapping down onto the bed beside you to stop himself from pushing you too far.

“Oh– oh– fuck! How­– h-how are you this tight, oh,” breathless not even beginning to describe how fucked out he already sounds.

“M-more, Sugu, please– I–”

At your insistence, he fucks himself all the way in, holding his hips to yours as he fills you to the hilt. Your pussy spasming and creaming around him, so worked up that he can feel just how aroused you are in the way you twitch, at how your fingers grab at his skin, how your breath is uneven and broken.

He can’t help but marvel at how you let out little squealed moans, how your cunt stretches to take all of him. On cloud nine at how you’re so horny over how heavy he’s sitting inside you that you’re close to tears.

The moan he lets out is debauched, unbelievably turned on when your hips struggle to grind down into him needily, working yourself up to an orgasm so fucking fast that he can’t do anything but watch in awe.

You can’t stop yourself, you know you should, should slow down and maybe calm down but it feels so good. He’s so big inside you, his cock pulsing in a way that has you memorising the thumping rhythm. Not usually so eager, never this eager, enthusiastically rutting down into him over and over again before suddenly cumming all over him.

Choked and gasped moans pulled from you as your hands reach for him, hoping for him to let you tug him down into you but he’s too busy watching how you pulse and cum all over him. Obsessed with how your cute, little cunt struggles with his size as you coat him in all your creamy cum.

“Holy fuck,” he laughs, “That was–”

Head dizzy and eyes lazy as you whinge at him, “–Don’t– don’t say anything.”

“You came as soon as I got inside you and you expect me to make no comment?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I think it was adorable,” he hums, voice strained, much more effected by it than he’s willing to let on.

You whine when he leans down into you, cock somehow reaching deeper. Geto’s arms cage you in either side your head, resting on his forearms, his lips against yours in a breathless kiss. Beginning shallow thrusts, his lips insistent on yours, fucking you so carefully for now.

Quickly, the need to have him fucking you stupid grows within you again and your legs loop around him properly, pulling him into you, wrapping yourself around him, mouth panting against his.

“Fuck– hah– you’re so wet,” he’s fucking into you faster, hips becoming desperate, “It’s actually– it’s– hnn– it’s crazy how good you feel,” he moves his head to the crook of your neck, growling beside your ear, “such a soaked little cunt, taking it so– ohh– taking it so good.”

“Ah! Ah! Sugu, it’s– ohh– it’s– more– I need more,” your fingers dig into his back, depraved wet sloshing sounds of him fucking into you so well fill the room.

He nips at your neck, “Demanding little thing aren’t you?”

He’s pulling out of you and the moan you let out is small and pathetic, disgruntled by his abrupt movement. The last thing you see is his smug grin before he’s flipping you over onto your stomach, hands pulling your hips up and pushing on your upper back, manoeuvring your body into an obscene arch.

Taking his sweet time to slip back inside, eyeing up your pussy and how your hole trembles and drools for him. Your hips wriggle back at him and he finds himself incredibly amused at how blatantly needy you are, apparently honest with him in more ways than one.

Just as you were about to turn around and complain at how long he’s taking to re-enter you, he’s shoving his cock back in all at once, jolting your body up the bed and forcing a moan out from your lungs.

“Ohh– Sugu– I…” you trail off as his hips pick up, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Sliding your legs further apart to take more of him inside, arching yourself even more, greedy cunt sucking him deep inside. He’s barely able to withdraw before you’re fucking your hips back into him, desperately driving back, so fucking needy that if you had half your mind you’d be embarrassed but right now all you can think about is how his dick thumps against your walls, how his hands grip onto you tight, probably leaving behind marks to match the ones he left all over your tits.

Mouth gaping open, spit pooling onto the pillow below, drooling over his cock, God, you could cry from just how fucking good it feels. Pussy spasming wildly around him, the more you think about the fact that he’s fucking you, the more worked up you get. Insides flipping at how he seems to touch the most perfect spots inside you, full of butterflies and him.

His mouth by your ear shocks you, his voice chirpy, “What are you – hah – thinking about, pretty?”

“A-about how goo– good it feels, feels– ohh– feels so good, Sugu,” your words are slurred, mind reeling at how he doesn’t even seem to slow his pace.

“Flatterer,” he barks out a laugh, “You’re quite the little charmer,” he mockingly compliments, tongue licking meanly at your salty tears that you hadn’t realised you’d shed.

“Shh– shut up– ah!” gasping when he gives a particularly mean thrust into you.

He can’t help but smile at the fucked out look you’re wearing, eyes rolled back, dazed and not comprehending anything other than his dick rubbing up against your walls so perfectly. Your face turns into the pillow and you bite at it, muscles pulling tight as another orgasm crawls up your spine.

It shocks you, how quickly you cum, Suguru’s harsh thrusts, your ass burning with the smack of his pelvis against you. The sting biting at your flesh making you feel like you’re on fire, cunt tight around him and orgasm overcoming you so fast that you don’t have time to prepare for it.

And maybe if he hadn’t been caught up in how deliciously you squeeze around him, he’d have time to realise you were coming again and he could stop himself but when you shock the both of you with your sudden orgasm he whines into your back and cums deep inside you. Shivers running down his spine at how it feels, dumping so much deep inside you that the force of his continued thrusts has some of it leaking from you back onto him and down onto the bed, making the obscenest mess he’s ever seen.

Immediately he’s pulling himself back up to see how he’s coated your walls white, his dick covered in your shared cum, creamy and lewd and he’s not even going soft because how could he when you’re still wrapped so warmly around him and when you’re so fucking gooey and snug. He might die before he’s done fucking you yet and he can’t even find it in himself to care even a little bit.

You’re not capable of forming words together enough to think of making a sentence, only thing coming from you being your garbled, choked moans and the sounds of your plushy cunt struggling to take him and all his cum. Pussy bulging with the weight of his cock and the mass amounts of seed he’s just pumped you full of.

His own eyes are lidded and low, pussy drunk and loving every second of it, “So turned on you couldn’t even warn me before you came,” he bites out.

His hand rounds your body and his fingers land on your clit, the overstimulation too much, one of your own hands moving down to try and pry it away, managing to squeak out, “T-too much– ah! Too much, Sugu.”

Tone light when his harsh words are mumbled back at you, “If it’s too much, then why – hnn – why are you fucking back onto me like such a slut?”

He’s so mean, so mean to you while he fucks you so… meanly. Head whirling over how he speaks to you, not even able to think long before he slaps your clit harshly and your knees buckle, falling into the mattress under him. His dick slipping from you as you collapse into the mattress.

Geto doesn’t pick you back up straight away, oh no, because you’re leaking all of his cum out of your little hole onto the bed and he can’t take his eyes off of how much cum he managed to get inside you. It’s you who picks your hips up lazily, presenting yourself for him.

He chuckles at your loyalty to his cock, but he also can’t help the way the sight makes him twitch. Shoving his dick into you again, feral in his pursuit to fuck you, to fuck you full of more of his cum.

“S-so devoted– hnnn– doing such­– hah– a good job for me, pretty,” he slurs.

You feel like you might pass out, so lightheaded but meeting each and every one of his thrusts all the same. An arm wrapping around your front pulls your back to his chest, both his hands landing on your tits, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples, making your pussy shudder around him.

You want to fuck your hips back recklessly but not able to with this angle, only able to arch further and give shallow grinds while he fucks his hips into you. He plants kisses and bites along your neck, nipping your skin hard enough that you twitch and whine each time he does it.

One hand leaves your tit and trails down your front, going for your cunt, spreading wide around where he’s stuffing you full continuously. Getting an absolute mess all over his hand and fingers, only to shove those fingers into your mouth, leaving you to lick him clean. Crammed full by his dick and fingers at once, convulsing around him at the thought of it, at the reality of it.

“You like being stuffed full, huh?” He muses to you, an evil kind of joy in his tone. You don’t get to choose your own response, he’s already using the fingers he has in your mouth to nod your head yes, “Ah, thought so.”

Pulling his fingers from your mouth slowly to watch how you suck on them as he does, before he’s wiping all your spit down your chest to your tummy. And then he has another hand on the back of your neck and is pushing you down into the pillows again, this time he keeps his hand there while he fucks into you diabolically.

Somehow faster than before, relentless, reaching his own end and wanting you to cum all over him at least once more. Head dipping back as he groans out, thrusts harsh and calculated, hitting all the spots he’s just learnt about, having memorised just how to make you fucking squirm for him.

Which he succeeds in, if he didn’t have the hand on the back of your neck, you would’ve crawled up the bed to try and get away from his evil thrusts. Poor abused pussy creaming around him for the fourth time, orgasm blinding you, only seeing white spots behind your eyelids.

The sounds he lets out are wrecked and beautiful and have you wishing that you weren’t cumming so violently if only to see the way he’s spilling inside you for the second time tonight.

“That’s it– fuck– take it– taking it so fucking well– holy fuck–” every word he utters is breathless and broken, essentially fucking himself stupid too.

Taking a moment for himself to catch his breath before he’s slipping from you and pulling your ass cheeks apart to watch how his cum dribbles from your overfilled cunt. You try to wiggle away but he holds you steady, eyes trained on your dipping hole, overcome with the desire to fuck his tongue inside you but instead settling for shoving two fingers inside, plugging your hole to keep his cum in.

You whine at him, and he can only chuckle and find you incredibly cute in your post orgasm bliss. Barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone speak right now.

He does eventually pull his fingers from you, wiping the mess on your thighs before turning you onto your back. It feels like you’re looking up at an angel as he looks down at you, or maybe the devil, all flush and sweet smiles, too sweet for a man that just fucked you within an inch of your life.

“Y-you can’t smile at me like that, not after you almost killed me,” you babble back at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, “There you go overreacting again.”

“You fuck so mean, Sugu,” you accuse… accurately.

A smile grows on his face again, “Feels real good though, doesn’t it?”

You weakly slap at him, he just grabs your hand and tugs your body into his kneeling form, hugging you to him. Pressing kisses all over your face, “Think you can stand long enough to shower?”

Shaking your head at him, “Not without fainting.”

“Alright, bath it is,” he concludes.

He takes such nice care of you afterwards, a complete contrast to how he fucked you. It’s lovely though, the hands that grabbed and pulled at you now delicate as they trace over your skin, washing you clean.  

You rest with your back to his front in the bath, head laying lazily on his chest, “So… for the sake of clarity, we’re not just friends?”

His lips tickle against the tip of your ear, “I can fuck you all over again if you need more proof?”

“I fear you might actually kill me.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it,” he presses a single kiss against your cheek.

In the morning, for the first time ever, he makes you breakfast, to make up for all the marks he’s littered your body with. He also officially asks you on a date, which you pretend to think really hard about even though you’d already decided you were going to say yes.

In the end, being friends with Geto Suguru wasn’t hard… it’s just not what you both wanted.

𝐀/𝐍: this was a while in the making and the vibes of it changed so many times throughout 😭 it was supposed to be situationship but i fear i'm not well versed enough in what exactly one is to write about it properly.... anyways ! i hope you enjoyed regardless and thank you for reading !!! <3

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision