#I just need to find the power to let you go and move on with my life
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kateschi · 2 days ago
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two heroes, one marriage
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synopsis: having stolen the hearts of fans with your teamwork and marraige, you and katsuki are called in for a joint interview.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
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the magazine spread featuring you and katsuki as top pro heroes has the fanbase buzzing for weeks.
power couples aren’t uncommon, but the combination of your joint success and explosive chemistry—both literally and figuratively—makes you stand out.
when you both get asked to sit down for a joint interview, it’s hard to say no, especially when the public can’t seem to get enough of the dynamic between you and your husband.
sitting side by side on a plush sofa in the brightly lit studio, katsuki bristles with impatience, his jaw clenched as the interviewer introduces the segment.
it’s a familiar scene—his fiery personality on display for everyone to see—but you can feel the underlying tension, the way his body leans subtly closer to yours for grounding.
“so, the two of you are recognized as two of the top heroes of the year, and fans are really curious to know how you manage your lives as heroes and as a married couple,” the interviewer begins with a polite smile, clearly trying to ease into the conversation.
before you can respond, katsuki’s sharp voice cuts through the air.
“what the hell kinda question is that?” he snaps, eyes narrowing as he crosses his arms. “we do our damn jobs, and we go home. simple as that.”
you stifle a laugh, used to his bluntness by now. gently placing a hand on his arm, you intervene.
“what he means,” you say, casting a glance at katsuki that makes him grumble, “is that it’s about finding a rhythm. we both understand each other’s work, so we don’t get in each other’s way.”
katsuki grunts, his fiery gaze fixed on the interviewer. “she knows how to handle herself; doesn’t need me micromanaging her every move.”
despite his words, his hand finds its way to your lower back, fingers pressing into the fabric of your suit.
his touch is subtle, a quiet reassurance in the midst of his usual tough demeanor, but you know it means he’s keeping you close, watching out for you in his own way.
the interviewer picks up on the moment, nodding enthusiastically.
“it sounds like you both have a lot of trust in each other. how do you support one another with the high demands of your careers?”
katsuki clicks his tongue, clearly irritated. “support? we’re pros. we know what we’re doin’ out there.”
but just as you’re about to add something, he turns his head slightly to you, his voice dropping just enough for you to hear the change in tone.
“that doesn’t mean I won’t blow the ass off anyone who even thinks about messin’ with her,” he mutters.
you chuckle softly, nudging him with your elbow. “and here I thought I didn’t need you hovering around.”
“shut up,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite in his tone.
his hand stays on your back, thumb brushing up and down in a way only you notice. “just ‘cause you’re strong doesn’t mean I’m not gonna make sure you’re alright.”
the interviewer, sensing an opportunity, leans in. “mister dynamight, you seem pretty protective of your wife. would you say that’s how you balance work and home life?”
katsuki’s eyes flash, his scowl deepening. “of course, I’m protective. you think I’d let her get caught up in any shit without me there to take care of it?”
his voice is sharp, but the way his arm shifts slightly to pull you closer is anything but harsh. “we don’t even need to talk about this crap.”
you smile to yourself, knowing this is as close to an open display of affection as katsuki will get in public.
his explosive personality never wavers, but there are cracks in his tough exterior that only you can see—moments where his concern for you bleeds through.
when the interviewer pushes on, asking about how your relationship works in the field, katsuki scoffs again.
“are you gonna keep asking this?” he snaps, before glancing at you, his hand tightening just slightly at your waist.
he sighs, trying to compose himself. “we work together ‘cause we’re a team, a hella good one at that.”
his little proud smirk makes your heart flutter. you decide to tease him a little. “oh, so you’re saying you can’t live without me on the battlefield, huh?”
his glare is immediate, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “don’t twist my words! I just—”
he cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath.
“you’re the one who keeps me in check, alright? so yeah, maybe i do rely on you. you’re my wife, and I am your husband. that’s natural! don’t make a big deal out of it.”
your husband huffs and looks away, which makes you giggle.
meanwhile, the interviewer chuckles nervously, clearly amused by the exchange. “it seems like you two have a really solid partnership.”
katsuki rolls his eyes. “damn right we do. we’ve got each other’s backs. that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”
as the interview wraps up, you feel katsuki’s hand slip from your waist, but his presence lingers, as solid and steady as ever.
once you’re off-camera and away from the prying eyes of the public, katsuki turns to you, his expression softening in that rare way that only you ever get to see.
“let’s get outta here,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “this interview crap’s a waste of time.”
you laugh, slipping your hand into his. “let's hope they don't cut you out like they did in highschool.”
“shut the hell up.” but despite his grumbling, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his grip tightening just slightly as you walk together out of the studio.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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lostinlovingrevery · 23 hours ago
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Van's Valentines - Heartbreaker
70s DOFP! Logan X F! Reader
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A/N: My first Valentines-themed fic! It came out more angsty than planned... All my Valentines fics are gonna be themed around these cute lil Valentine cards that I found through Pinterest!
Plot: He has moved in and out of your life for the last two years, you love him, but you're not sure if you can let him in again...
Warnings: Angst, but a happy ending! Logans a menace, reader is described as a waitress, with some backstory
Word Count: 2168
“Hey pretty girl.”
You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice. Trouble. 
Logan Howlett. The menace of your life. The sole reason you have not been able to move on with yourself, to find someone else that you could fall madly in love with. He was the devil incarnate. A son of a bitch who’s made you cry more than you care to admit. 
You met him a little over two years ago. He walked into your small family restaurant. A little restaurant your grandfather started when he was about your age. You were just a waitress when Logan showed up. Handsome man who sauntered into the building with arrogance and snug jeans. He (unfortunately) charmed you off your feet. 
The next month you were in bliss. Until he decided to leave.
He told you it wasn’t you. It was him. That he wasn’t a homebody, that he needed to go out there. See the world. Sticking around just wasn’t him. You didn’t have a choice but to accept that and move on. You may have shed a few tears, missing the warmth of him in your bed, the sound of his voice when he came in to visit you at work, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the world that mattered. Nevertheless, you moved on. It was only a month you were together anyway, right? You had college and work to focus on. There’s other fish in the sea.
Then he came back.
Then he would leave again.
And he would come back again.
Every single time you accepted him into your arms like a fool, he would kiss you and you’d melt under his warm and timber voice, calling you baby, and sweetheart. Then you’d watch him leave again, tears falling down you cheeks as you inevitably began to wonder, why won’t he stay?
Even so, you never let him see the tears. You didn’t want him to know the power he held over you. Even if you both knew that you should’ve stopped opening your arms to him by the third time he showed up. It effectively ruined your love life. You couldn’t date any man without comparing the poor schmuck to Logan in more ways than one. Your heart felt wrong when you finally kissed the jock from your old high school you had a huge crush on during your high school years. You turned down the cute and very sweet new guy with pretty blue eyes who moved in town purely because you knew Logan was going to show up again- and you were right. 
Your grandfather told you once that your soul knew when it met it’s other half. He would tell you that there was strings that tied two people together and no matter how far you strayed from each other- you’ll meet again. You wondered often if that was the case with Logan...Now you're not too sure.
Now it’s been over two years since Logan came in and out of your life. The restaurant you worked in was now yours after the loss of your dear grandfather. The man who’s raised you and made you the person you were today. You dropped out of college when he died, taking over his legacy to the small town you were born in. You took pride in the restaurant, and everyone knew your name and respected you. It didn’t mean that you sometimes didn’t daydream about seeing the world, like Logan does.
It was Valentines day, and you were finishing putting up the pretty heart decorations, stringing along the ceiling and counters. Amongst many other little decorations that you had placed on various counter tops. The local radio station playing various cheesy love songs over the speaker. Despite having your heart broken by him more times than you care to remember. You were still a big romantic, and Valentines was your favorite holiday. Even if you believed you would be spending it alone. 
You didn’t turn around immediately to the sound of his voice. Your mind filled with irritation. 
Why did he have to show up today of all days? At this point you believed he must get off on causing you heartbreak.
You brushed your hands together, adjusted your apron, letting out a hard sigh and turned around, curses prepared on your tongue as you were about to finally tell him to get out of your life for good. Only it died back on your tongue as you saw him.
“Logan?” You blinked in surprise.
He was standing there, looking nicer than you’ve ever seen him. He always looked good, not one to make a fashion statement yet somehow sported the best looks you could see on a man. A clean button up shirt, tucked into smooth dark blue jeans- of course his classic belt with the almost comedically large designed buckle; It was the shape of a heart. His usual worn brown leather jacket that he would drape over you when he’d walk you back home, or when you sat on the back of his pickup and the sun would set, leaving a chill in the air. His hair was slicked back, his usual scruffy beard and mutton chops trimmed and cleaned up. He was sporting sunglasses that he took off, tucking into his shirt, as you took him in- as well as the gifts he was holding.  
He was holding a huge bouquet of red roses in one arm. The other was a big heart shaped box that you presumed held chocolates. 
He smiled- not his usual cocky smirk, it was something soft and genuine. Like the smile you seen your grandfather give your grandmother. He stepped forward. 
“Happy Valentines day baby.” He says, handing you the bouquet, which was so big you needed both arms to cradle it carefully. The aroma of the roses wafted to your nose, and you closed your eyes, taking a big sniff. “I thought you’d like em.”
“I…” You opened your mouth and shut them, looking back up at him with wide eyes, still slightly shocked. You looked into his eyes, the eyes that always made your knees weak.
“Had to get my girl something special for her favorite holiday, hm?” He smiled. 
You looked down at the roses,your heart fluttering at the sound of him calling you his girl. For a moment, you forgot about your irritation, your constant heartbreak. The fact that you thought about him all the time, wondering if he was okay. You have filled yourself with jealousy, jealousy of his lifestyle, jealousy of the girls who probably captured his attention somewhere else. Your heart sank. What are you doing? You’re letting him do it again! 
“Thank you.” You say, your tone firm. “I can’t take these though.”
He blinked in surprise, his smile dropping. “They’re for you.” He states, looking down at them. 
You sighed, moving to set them down on the counter, careful so that the roses don’t get crushed. “We can’t keep doing this Logan.”
“Doing what?”
Your brows creased angrily, a small scoff escaping you. “What? Are you serious? This!” Your voice pitched higher, and he blinked in surprise at your sudden outburst. “You show up, acting like you actually care about me and then leave!” Your hand flew in the air, motioning to him. He shook his head at your comment. You never showed him any anger when he came back, always happy, open arms, and a sweet kiss. A lovesick expression on your face as he’d tell you new stories of his adventures, completely forgetting of how he made you felt when he left. 
“I do care about you.” His voice was low, as his eyes looked down at you in an expression that looked confused. “How could you think I don’t?” 
You blinked in disbelief. How could he care about you? He shows up into your life, he treats you like you’re so important, that he could even….but he leaves. He always leaves. He never looks back. It didn’t matter if you begged him to stay a few more days, for one more kiss. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to move on with your life.
Shaking your head. “You should go Logan. Find some other girl to break the heart of.” You say, bitterness in your tone. There was a shakiness in your voice you attempted to hide. “The flowers are beautiful but I can’t…” You looked away from him, crossing your arms around you. You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to go.
He stepped closer. “You’re telling me to go?”
You nodded, not looking at him. A beat passed, and a hand came up, cupping your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears that you attempted to blink away- refusing to let him see the emotion on your face. 
The way he looked down at you almost made you burst into tears right then. A soft smile came across his face. 
“I’m sorry baby.” He says softly. His hand cupped your cheek, bringing his other hand to cup your face completely. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s my fault. I just couldn’t deal with how you made me feel.”
You blinked. “What?”
“I’m a huge asshole. I know.” He says softly. “I ain’t got no right. You don’t deserve it.” He continues. “I left that first time cause I knew that I…” He trailed off, looking at you with pressed lips. Like he was afraid to say what he wanted to say. 
“What?” You ask, your heart starting to beat faster. “Logan….”
“I kept coming back because I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was selfish I know.” His thumb rubbed softly across your cheek. Your hands, shakily reached up to rest on his hips. “Every time I left I couldn’t stop thinking about some asshole taking you. Someone who didn’t know how to make you laugh, or make you feel good like I know how.” He leaned forward, his forehead pressed to yours. “I missed you every single goddamn time. Thought about you every night. It drives me crazy. You drive me crazy.” 
You let out a small scoff, a small shake of your head. “Look who’s talking..” You mutter. He grinned. 
“I want you.” He says. “It took me some time to accept that. It terrifies me because there’s still some things you don’t know about me. I know it’s shitty. Don’t make me go away. No more running. You and me. We can make it work.” 
You blinked in surprise. “R-really? Logan I-”
“Be my Valentine?” He grinned. A small snort escaped you at the cheesiness of him. 
“Seriously?” You asked. You were still in disbelief. The way he just changed from your outburst. Was he serious? Or was he playing you like a fiddle again?
“Whatever you want. I could take you away from here, go on those adventures you always wanted to go on. I’ll take you New York, to Vegas, hell- I’ll even take you to my hometown in Canada.” He takes a breath. “If you want, after…We’ll come back here. Settle down. Anything you want. I’ll do it.” 
The determination of his face took you aback. Logan was always passionate yes, but he was casual about his passion, he’d pushed away whenever you brought up your relationship, what you meant to each other. Then later at night, in the heat of passion, he’d whisper sweet things in your ear- things he felt about you. You were never sure if it was true or he just said it, simply lost in the moment. You never knew what he was thinking or feeling. He wouldn’t tell you.
“I’ll be here for you. Just let me.” 
You thought back to the times he was here. They were some of your happiest memories. He did always know how to make you laugh. He knew what made you feel good. He knew what to say when you were stressed. He knew your deepest secrets. 
He was there when you lost your grandfather, somehow showing up that day after you found him. He stayed with you throughout the process. At the time, you thought he’d leave almost immediately. You were grieving, were in no mood for flings or flirting but he held your hand the entire way. It was actually the longest he ever stayed. Nearly 3 months. He held you when you cried. Supported you when you quit college. Even lent a hand at the restaurant. You couldn’t even be mad when he told you he had to leave. You were happy to just have someone who was there for you. 
Your grandfather always liked him. 
“Okay.” You smiled, leaning into him. You couldn’t believe yourself. Moments ago you were ready to cuss him out, tell him to get out of your life. Within minutes he made you fold. “We’ll make it work.”
He really was the devil.
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calebslittleapple · 23 hours ago
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feels like home: sticky fingers
After a few weeks apart, Caleb reconnects with his Pip-squeak, only to find that she's pretty beaten up after a mission. Fortunately, Caleb knows exactly what to do to take care of his girl. From one moment to the next, everything changes, and what starts as an innocent interaction quickly evolves into something else entirely... two-shot, post club-interactions, but can be read as a standalone as well (though, this is part of my feels like home series).
Pairing: LaDS Caleb x MC (she/her)
Genre: Smut (with feelings); chapter one is M, chapter two is E; 18+
CW: Codependency; Pip-squeak as an endearment; MC is named "Emme" short for "Emme Sea" lmao; Finger Sucking; sensual massage; Vaginal Fingering; humping
Also on AO3
Chapter 1/2
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After that dizzying night at the club, things settle back into the same old, same old, mostly because work’s been insane for both of them. At least, that’s what Caleb’s telling himself.
Naturally, he can’t stop thinking, feeling, reeling over the memory of his sweet girl, his beloved Pip-squeak, coming apart in his arms. Along with that, the way she’d woken early the day after, slipped from bed and made him breakfast.
That was normally his role to fall back into, but it was a domestic kind of sublime to walk into her kitchen, and see her standing there, cooking bacon, while wearing one of his t-shirts—old, stretched out, and way, way too big for her.
Caleb couldn’t put his finger on why, but he liked the way she looked in his clothes. Felt a bit like she was wrapped up in him. The possessive pieces of his heart shifted upon seeing her there, ever so slightly falling into place as if a simple moment like that could make his fractured heart whole once more.
They didn’t talk about what happened, because, of course, they didn’t. But she was different. A little surer in her touch and teasing. Hands lingered as the food was shared between them. Her eyes fell on his lips, the line of his neck, the broad stretch of his chest, which was purposefully emphasized by the two-sizes-too-small tank top he was wearing.
He flexed some, and she noticed that too. What was the point of having a physique like his, if not to show it off to the one person he’d crafted it for? Judging from the way her chewing stopped and how her eyes lingered, his many, many hours spent working out weren’t going to waste.
“See something you like, Pip-squeak?” he teased, but his voice was raspier than he’d thought it would be. Catching her staring was painfully intoxicating.
“Hmm?” she replied while shaking her head a bit. “What did you say?”
Caleb huffed out a laugh. “Pass the syrup.”
Picking up the nearby vessel, Emme quietly cursed as some of the sticky liquid sloshed over the edge and onto her fingers. After setting the syrup down, she stood and started to turn toward the sink, but Caleb caught her up in his gravity before she could move away.
“C’mere,” he murmured.
Shifting on her feet, she cocked her head at him, and Caleb couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes fluttered, just a little, as he let his power roll over her before pulling back.
Caleb held his hand out for hers. “Let me see.”
She swallowed, looked at her sticky fingers, and immediately focused on his lips. Caleb’s mouth curved into a knowing smile, which earned him a pretty pout.
“You’re terrible,” she breathed but held her hand out, anyway.
“Oh, c’mon, Pip-squeak,” he murmured, his warm hand gently skimming along the length of her forearm before curling around her wrist. “I know you like it when I’m bad.”
Her lips parted with a soft sigh that sounded anything but perturbed, pink tongue flicking out to lick her lips as her actions betrayed her thoughts.
“What are you going to do…?”
“You don’t know?” he asked while leaning closer to her hand, slow enough that she could pull back if she wanted.
He needed to prove something to himself, needed to prove that it wasn’t just the alcohol or the strange anonymity of that seedy club. Caleb needed to know that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
He could see it now, in the way she stood there, legs spread just a touch too wide, as if she was imagining what it might be like to fall into his lap and straddle his waist. Or maybe it was in how her hips switched, swaying almost the same way they had while she’d ground herself into his thigh the night before.
No, it was definitely in how glassy her eyes looked and the pretty flush on her cheeks. There was no alcohol coloring this interaction. What other places on her body would flush, he wondered. The tips of her nipples? The soft skin at the juncture between her legs and thighs? What about her ass? As decadently formed as it was, would her ass look even better with a bite mark… or two?
Caleb could feel himself growing hard in his gray sweatpants but was marginally relieved that he wouldn’t need to reach down and adjust himself this time. No distractions. Just her eyes locked on his as he pulled her hand closer and closer.
She didn’t gasp when he sucked her fingers into his mouth—index and middle; warm, sticky, and sweet. No, what she did was much, much worse than that.
Watching for every single reaction, Caleb swirled his tongue before delivering a long, soft suck, and his girl took in a halting breath, fluttered her fingers in his mouth, and fucking whimpered his name.
“C-Caleb!”
Broken, halting, haunting. He wanted to hear her say it again. To hear her say it while he pressed into her from above, while his head disappeared between her thighs, while he did every single thing he’d ever dreamed about doing to her, but dared not do.
They were growing closer and closer to the day when they would dare, and he was doing his best to be patient. He’d draw out every moment so when that day did come, when she finally gave in to her desires and realized that everything she’d been wanting was right before her eyes, it would be after he so thoroughly seduced her that she’d never think of denying either of them.
Ever. Again.
Caleb wasn’t a patient man, but he could play pretend with the best of them. For her, he would make the planet collapse in on itself if she but asked. But all she needed right now was patience and time. As his tongue swirled and his mouth pulled, he lingered there, and let her think of all the other places on her body that would feel oh so good if he ever got his lips, teeth, and tongue on them.
And he would. But, for that moment, he let her go and was not so secretly smug about the sweetly blissed-out look on her face, and the way she stumble-sat into her chair before picking at her food again, desperate to look somewhere, anywhere but at the face of the man she knew the best, and needed the most.
Weeks flew by. She texted, same as always. She called, and he answered on the second ring, same as always. But where once Caleb could soothe himself with the knowledge that he’d be able to see her soon enough, now he is consumed with the memories of their interactions and, more to the point, her reactions.
The clothes she left at his place for use during her visits no longer smell like her, likely because he spends most nights with his face wrapped up in them. The only peaceful rest he’s able to get is when she’s near. When he knows she’s safe. Now, her shirt and shorts just smell like him, and as much as he enjoys leaving his scent all over her space, he wants the same for his home.
Logically, Caleb knows that Linkon is a safer place for her, for a multitude of reasons, but the greedy, dark spaces of his heart want to keep her high in the sky, in Skyhaven with him. He’s smart enough to know how to keep her safe at his apartment. God, he’s done it before. But as good as it makes him feel to know without a doubt that she is safe, he can’t stand the look in her eye at that particular betrayal.
Just one more sin for the consummate sinner. But with her, ahh… It feels like he can find absolution in her arms. No matter how dark he gets, his girl will always be there to pull him back into the light. She promised him, just as he’d promised to always be there with him.
Finally, when Caleb thinks he’s at his wits’ end, he gets a text from Emme asking if he wants to meet up at her place on the weekend. Naturally, he agrees. Even if he didn’t have the time off, he’d have figured something out. He’s so excited about it that he decides to surprise her the night before, which isn’t uncommon for him.
So, with snacks and an overnight bag in hand, he lets himself into her apartment and waits for her to get back home from work. From how she tells it, she’s been overtime on something important. Caleb did some digging and managed to find out it had something to do with Wanderers convening just outside of the city limits.
It’s miserable work, as important as it is, and he worries because that’s who he is. Caleb wouldn’t be Caleb if he wasn’t worrying about his Pip-squeak. He’s just wired that way. And this time, he’s right to be concerned because when she finally gets back to her apartment at just after 2 a.m., she stumbles in.
Of course, she’s not entirely surprised that he’s there—who else would be watching movies this late in her living room, who else would know the security code to her suite, and who else would show up unannounced, like him—but she looks put out, all the same.
He watches her for a moment longer as she pauses at the entrance to her home, leaning against the doorframe as she breathes deep, head hanging heavy, body drooping… He’s moving before she can fall, her body pitching forward into his strong body instead of the floor.
“Whoa, Pip-squeak! What’s wrong?”
She looks up at him, and the dark smudges under her eyes, along with the scrapes on her cheeks and neck tell him everything he needs to know.
“Caleb.” One word spoken, half annoyance, half supplication. It’s all he needs. A moment longer, and she’s swept up into his arms.
“Let’s get you washed, dried, and cared for,” he says, sounding more competent and put together than he feels. In truth, his heart is pounding in his chest, and it’s taking everything he has not to drive over to the Hunter’s Association and ream out whoever is responsible for putting her in the situation that got her in this state.
Not that he’d dare leave her now.
He carries her through the small space of her apartment and walks them both into the bathroom. Her bathroom is cramped on a good day, and with the two of them in there, it’s even worse. She bats at his hands and tries to tell him she can manage on her own.
“I’m not a child.”
“Of course you aren’t, but you’re still my girl. How could I live with myself if I left you alone now? What if you fell in the shower, or worse?”
She frowns, but some of the roughness of that expression is smoothed away as she thinks about it.
“You owe me, then.”
“Oh?”
“Next time you get sick. You call me. You let me in. No excuses.”
Caleb sighs. Of course, she’d bargain for something like that. It’s not in his nature to show weakness, least of all to her, but he’d promise just about anything and mean it to keep her happy.
“Deal. Now, strip.”
She blushes at that, only for her lips to frown again.
“What?”
As Caleb eases her from his arms, she’s unsteady on her feet. “I really… just don’t think I can.”
“Need some help?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but very much feeling like his heart is going to explode.
“Promise not to get mad?”
“No.”
“Caleb!” she exclaims while giving him a halfhearted shove. “There’s just a few scrapes. And I’m sure I’ll be bruised tomorrow. But it’s nothing major, okay?”
“Okay. But you’re going to let me treat your injuries.”
She pouts. “Fine, but it’s mostly just… really sore muscles. I think a Wanderer was trying to tear my spine out…”
He hates the sound of that but manages to transfer some of his anger to the fastenings of her clothes, quickly and efficiently stripping the layers of her outfit from her body until she’s standing there in nothing more than her underthings and the bracelet he gave her.
He loves that no matter where she goes, she’s got a piece of him with her, but he keeps that bit of information to himself. She already has his heart. Any more leverage and she’ll have him following her like a puppy… more than he already does, that is.
Caleb tries to be level-headed about this, but it’s a challenge given how very fuckin’ long he’s dreamed about seeing her like this, albeit in very different circumstances. Still, he loves her, loves her more than he longs for her, even, so he schools his features, wills his body to calm down, and has his Evol prop her up while guiding her roughed-up body into the shower.
And though it’s strange, and not entirely logical, Caleb swears he can feel her pressing back into his gravitational touch, leaning into his power as he works to support her and not lose his damn mind. Maybe it has something to do with her Resonance. God knows it wouldn’t be the first time that their shared connection bridged the gap between fantasy and reality.
Once the shower curtain is closed, his power slips away, leaving her to stand on her own two feet.
“You good?”
“I’ve got the wall,” she says with a sigh. “Can you help me after I’m done?”
“Of course.”
She manages to take off the rest of her clothes. They fall to the floor of her shower with a soft thump.
“Want me to grab ‘em?”
“Everything’s filthy,” she admits. “Guts and blood and gore. I think I’m gonna burn them.”
Caleb chuckles and shakes his head. He’ll get the gore out for her. He’s good at that. Listening attentively, he makes sure to check in with her as she bathes. Truthfully, she’s sounding better, at least, until a soft hiss sounds from behind the curtain.
“Everything alright, Pip-squeak?”
“Just a very, very sore muscle.”
The water stops, and she gingerly peeks her head out from behind the curtain. She’s adorably drenched, and every part of him is itching with the need to care for her. He’s pleased to note that most of the blood is washed away, and doesn’t seem to belong to her.
Guts and blood and gore, indeed.
“I got a towel ready,” he says, spreading it out and turning his head so she can step out of the shower without having to worry about him leering.
Caleb swears she snickers at him, but she ducks into his arms and lets him wrap her in the towel, just the same. She’s swallowed up by an excess of plush fabric, with only her feet and head peeking out from the edges.
It almost reminds him of when she was young, and how after playing with the sprinkler and tiring herself out in the summer sun, she’d complain about being cold, only for Caleb to wrap her up in a towel and help her dry off.
Well, he’s not that boy anymore, and she’s certainly not that girl, and what they are to each other is so much more than childhood friends.
Still, he tugs at the edge of the towel and lifts it so that he’s better covering her neck. “Can you turn around? I’ll dry your hair.”
“The blow dryer is—”
“Beneath the sink, I know.”
With everything ready, he first works at detangling her hair with her paddle brush. Her work’s made a mess of her hair, but he’s good at this—the best, actually. He has to be because the last thing he wants is to cause her any more pain.
After her hair is detangled and pulled back, he slowly runs the blow dryer over it while combing it on low heat. He’d hate to damage her hair. Once her hair is mostly dry, he quickly pulls it into a braid. Another thing that he’s quite good at.
“Hair ties?”
She holds up her wrist.
“Hair ties that haven’t gone through hell and back?” he clarifies while tugging the band from her wrist and throwing it in the trash.
“Medicine cabinet.”
He gets what he needs, ties off her hair, and picks her up again. This time, she squawks a little, but he gently rubs his lips against the top of her head and softly begs, “Please? Let me help.”
And mollified by his words or his actions, she settles and lets her head fall against his shoulder. It doesn’t take long to get to her bedroom, the door of which he gently nudges open with his power.
Caleb settles her on the bed and walks over to her dresser. “What d’ya wanna wear?”
“Mmm, I have some clothes ready in the top drawer.”
Pulling open the heavy wooden drawer, Caleb is surprised to recognize her clothes as his. “I was wearing this the last time I visited.”
“Yeah, your clothes are comfier than mine.”
“The shorts aren’t mine,” he points out.
“Your shorts would slide down my legs. The shirt is big, but it’s sooo nice to sleep in.”
As Caleb tugs the shirt and shorts closer, he can’t help but notice that it still smells faintly of his scent.
“Didn’t you wash this, Pip-squeak?” he drawls.
“Oh. No…” She sounds embarrassed, and he’s just about to tease her for always leaving her dirty laundry for him to do when she soundly sucker-punches him with what she says next. “It still smells like you… So… that’s why.”
That soft admission has the air retreating from his lungs in a wicked rush, words hitting with precision impact. Caleb doesn’t turn to face her. He can’t. His fist is tightly clenched around his shirt—the one that smells like him—his eyes are closed, and his breathing is so erratic that he needs to take a moment to calm himself.
Of course, he keeps her clothes at his bedside when she’s not in his home, but to hear she does the same—no, that she wears clothes that smell like him to bed—makes him feel fucking feral. He is not a good man. Far from it. He is who he needs to be so that he can keep her safe.
But when the reality of her words hits, it shifts his intentions for the evening entirely. He’d meant to put her to bed with a heating pad after checking for wounds, and then go to make her something to eat. Now she’d be lucky if he let her sleep at all.
“Where’s that massage oil that Tara got you?”
“How do you know about that?!” she balks.
“She was bragging about it at your birthday party. She’s remarkably chatty when she’s been drinking.” Tara was remarkably chatty all the time, but she got downright obscene with alcohol. Caleb got the sense that she was intentionally making him aware of the oil, almost as if she was giving him a not-so-subtle nudge.
As if any of this was up to him. Still, the knowledge came in handy. He’s feeling not the least bit smug about it, at least, until she hits him with another jab. “It’s in the drawer of my bedside table.”
Caleb closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and specifically does not think about what that likely means.
He clears his throat, but his voice is still rough when he finally manages to ask, “Can you dress yourself?”
“I can manage. But what are you going to do with the oil?”
Caleb shakes his head, turns, and fixes her with a look. “Massage your legs, silly girl. You could barely stand earlier. They’re gonna be hellish in the morning if you don’t take care of them now.”
“You’d do that for me?” she asks, cheeks still flushed from her shower, and towel wrapped tight. She looks good enough to eat, and Caleb expects that if he doesn’t somewhat sate the beast inside of him, he’s going to make a meal of her sooner rather than later.
Caleb stands before her, bunches her shirt—his shirt—up, and slides the top over her head. “Can you manage the rest?”
She nods, and he turns around to give her some privacy. “The shorts?”
“I can manage,” she replies, but her groans make his stomach twist with concern.
“They’re working you too hard.”
“My job is hard. This is what I signed up for.”
“Then you need to do a better job of taking care of yourself during your days off.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“I think ‘Daddy’ would be more fitting.”
“Caleb!” she squeaks. “Don’t say things like that.” But she certainly doesn’t sound as scandalized as she should…
“All right, all right. I’m sorry. You finished?”
“…Yeah, I got it.”
Caleb turns, tilts his head, and gives her a look. Her hair’s messed up now from the shirt, and she looks tired. A perfect pout greets his smile.
“Poor baby,” he softly croons. “Lay back and let me take care of you.”
He can see her swallow at that, like she’s having a hard time making her vocal cords work. “You’re just taking advantage of my weakness.”
“Naturally. How else am I gonna get you to understand that you need me?”
She huffs at that. “You need me just as much as I need you, Caleb.”
He snorts softly, teeth pressing into his tongue, before he softly admits, “You have no idea… Now, no more stalling.”
Caleb points to the bed, and she dutifully scoots back onto the sheets, albeit slowly and with effort. He manages to dig out the oil from her dresser and pointedly ignores literally everything else that’s hidden away in there because he won’t be able to behave if he does otherwise.
“I guess I should have grabbed the oil,” she starts to say.
He frowns. “Why?”
“Oh… never mind.”
“Something you don’t want me to see in there?”
She nibbles her lip, eyes fluttering softly as she murmurs, “Maybe… maybe not.”
The look she gives him is so coy and tempting that his mind goes completely blank and he utterly forgets what the hell he’d been in the middle of doing. At least, until she points to the oil.
“Are you gonna massage my legs or…?”
“Yeah… yeah. Right. Roll over, Pip-squeak. Lemme see where it hurts.”
She rolls over and Caleb’s eyes trail reverently over the length of her legs. She looks good. Too good. He hates that her coworkers get to even see a measure of this. Of course, he knows it’s insane to want to be the only one who can appreciate her, but his greedy heart feels it just the same.
“You been workin’ out more lately?”
“Hmm? Why?”
“Things look… tight,” he rasps, voice betraying his interest and desire.
Her reply is soft and teasing. “Someone did make me join that squat challenge last month. And here, I thought you had ulterior motives, but you’re acting all surprised.”
Caleb coughs to cover up some of his embarrassment and dispel a measure of his lust. Yeah, he had gotten her to agree to that challenge. Honestly, he’d been grasping for things to say, because he caught her right after a workout and the fine mist of sweat on her brow, along with the gorgeous flush in her cheeks, had him thinking of exercise of a different kind.
And here she’d taken him seriously.
“Gonna be as strong as me soon,” he manages while stepping closer to the bed. Her legs are spread on either side of him, and for one long moment, he doesn’t know what to do, or where to look next.
“Doubt it. Your legs are too long, and your thighs are too strong.”
“Been thinking about my thighs, baby?”
He’s teasing, sweet, and he means to catch her off guard, but she hits back so hard as she replies, “Yeah, your thighs… and other parts of your anatomy.”
Caleb sighs, long and hard. Says a prayer for courage to whoever happens to be listening, the Gods of the earth and the sea and space, or otherwise, and then, he gets to work. He kneels on the floor at the edge of the bed, and he’s tall enough that this gives him a good vantage point. He knows exactly what he wants to do next, and he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.
 “Tell me if it hurts.”
~~~
Author’s Note:
Sorry, this was so big that I had to cut it into two chapters because I hate editing and I got busy with other stuff. I’ll post the other chapter tomorrow, so you can have something to enjoy (I hope) over the weekend. The second part is spicier :D
I listened to the hipsterist hipster music for this one to get me into the right headspace, please enjoy haha. Also somewhat inspired by what has to have been the most painful massage I’ve ever had in my LIFE (did not have the same ending, there was only pain lmao, but I was like hmm maybe Caleb would be good at massages for MC, and then, PAIN). Also Deeply inspired by that secret times where Caleb takes care of MC when she’s sick. Like GOD DAMN, Caleb. “You’re worried I’ll spoil you rotten. Too late for that!” ??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME????
Also, not that it matters in the slightest, but I wrote this before I learned it’s canon that she likes to keep his clothes around (and wear them???) because they smell like him. They’re just really transparent with how fucking down bad these two are for each other lmao.
Still really fucking obsessed here, guys. Chokehold, I think is a good way to put it. Caleb is a mf bias wrecker, like oh my literal GOD. I swear, some of these are gonna be from MC’s pov, but I’m working through some SHIT rn lol.
I also gave the MC a little name, “Emme” which is short for Emme Sea lmao. I have a challenging time with writing y/n or like using second person present tense. No judgment or anything like that, it just makes it hard for me to think of the characters properly when I’m writing them. ANYWAY, I’ll use it sparingly, but sometimes, it’s just better to have a name lol.
Anyway, thanks so much for reading! And extra hugs for anyone who left a comment. You are the apple of my eye, and thank you for giving me a space to channel this whatever it is? Obsession lmao. I’ve got a few other interludes planned (shower), and I’m taking requests (on tumblr), so either give this/me a follow, or check up on my tumblr :) If you enjoyed, I’d love to hear from you! Or feel free to share with a friend, if you’re lucky enough to have some Caleb-obsessed friends haha.
Don’t forget! I'll be posting any updates as installments (not chapters), so be sure to sub to the series or my user name to get updates on ao3, or just check my tumblr, i'll post here too♥️🍎
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growthhyp · 21 hours ago
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I'm a red headed twink.
Does this garage sale has any Halloween Costumes ? I would love to find a caveman costume!
The Caveman Costume
It’s Halloween, and you decided to go with that peculiar caveman costume you picked up from the garage sale. The outfit is a bit snug, really only covering your cock and ass, but something about the muscular guy who sold it to you made your heart race. As you slip it on, you can't help but feel a little self-conscious about your own skinny frame. But, hey, it's a costume party, right?
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You arrive at the party, the pumpkins glowing orange and the air thick with excitement. The moment you hit the dance floor, something strange begins to happen. It's like a tingling sensation that starts from the tips of your toes and travels up your body, making every inch of you feel alive. Before you know it, your muscles are inflating like a balloon—your chest puffing out, your arms bulging, your abs rippling, and your legs turning into tree trunks. It's a transformation that's as shocking as it is exhilarating.
As the music pumps and you move to the beat, you can't shake the thought of the seller's muscular physique. Your mind starts to fog over, and things that never used to interest you now flood your thoughts. Girls, with their bouncing tits and delicious pussies, are suddenly all you can think about. It's as if your sexuality has done a complete 180, and your body seems to be following suit. You let out a primitive grunt, feeling your cock stiffen and grow longer with each passing second.
The more you dance, the dumber you feel, but the more primal your desires become. Your vocabulary diminishes to a few guttural words: "Grow… Tits… Pussy." The transformation is almost complete. You can feel your IQ dropping as your body reaches peak masculine form. Your thoughts are now simple, basic, and driven by one thing: the need to fuck.
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As the music reaches a crescendo, so does your transformation. Your mind is now a blur of caveman thoughts, and all you can say is "STRONG… HUNGRY." You're not the sharpest tool in the shed anymore, but you've got the body of a fucking T-Rex. You look around the party, and all you see are potential mates, their curves and smiles beckoning you like a siren's call.
The partygoers stare at you, not quite sure what to make of the caveman now towering over them. Some are intimidated, some are intrigued, and others are just plain scared. But you don't care. You're in the zone, the ultimate Alpha male, and you know exactly what you want. You flex your newfound muscles, feeling the power surge through you, and all you can do is smack your hand against your chest and let out a mighty roar.
You stand there, panting, the room spinning slightly from the intensity of the change. But you're not done yet. You spot a particularly delicious-looking female across the room, and your caveman instincts kick in. It's time to claim your prize, to show everyone who the new king of the party is. And with that, you stride over to her, all swagger and bravado, ready to show her what this Halloween costume is really all about.
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tsundereho · 21 hours ago
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batfam sick fic (proofread)
818 words: my base idea posted as well, oooh fun right? tw i guess for talks of incorrect medicine use. I swear in this, so yeah be warned
@coal-or-something helped me (watched me write and go insane, occasionally helped with grammar)
Bruce powers through anything like a fucking truck Dick can power through it but chooses to be a baby about it (for the bit) Jason is much like bruce but is more noticeable, will refuse to be taken care of Tim doesn’t have a spleen he gets sick like unable to leave bed sick, refuses treatment best he can and tries to keep working Steph is stubborn and confident, can and will make her own damn soup but due to being sick it doesn't go very well Damian doesn't get sick very often but when he does he will refuse to admit it to the point of making it worse for himself Duke Thomas probably knows what to do best (other then alfred) Cass was homeless for 9 years, so used to being sick and just ignoring it. So very used to being sick and just forcing herself not to be due to her dad then her time on the streets
Different scenarios of them being sick, all, same level of sick to start, same symptoms
Bruce cannot slow down or take a break ever, and it was becoming more and more apparent as he refused to pause his typing for a coughing fit. Despite Alfreds warnings about it will only get worse. The only compromise he made was not attending a brunch and instead using that time for a nap, mainly because he didn’t have the energy to mask at all.
Dick at the first sign of his cold immediately canceled his plans, sure he was still gonna go be Nightwing but he needed the days to rest! He was sick, he needed soup and tea with extra honey to help his sore throat.
Jason refuses to let anybody near him while he's sick, he knows they’ll do something, whether it's trying to hurt him in his vulnerable state or worse, take care of him. He didn’t need extra blankets or hot drinks, he needed to stop being weak and just get through this, any guidelines on the cold meds? Ignored. He's chugging the bottle in one go. He needs to feel better. Very often nightwing can find him accidentally high and loopy since he took ten times over the recommended dose, the only reason he isn’t dead is because he is a tank of man.
Tim is doing everything he can to ward off the sickness at the first sneeze, wearing a face mask, washing everything he owns as often as he can, when he gets sick he gets sick. One of the many cons of not having a spleen. 
It does help but not by much, he still gets sick and is immediately bed ridden for his own safety, he can and will seriously hurt himself trying to work like this.
Damian since i can’t write steph very well yet
Damian is the one who got sick first, not that he would admit it to even himself, yes he is drinking more tea, but only because he likes the way Alfred makes it, nothing more nothing less, he scoffs at the idea of taking a break, he did not need a break since he was not sick, no matter what father or any of his siblings said, they were all wrong. No matter how much he overslept for school he would show up anyways.
Cass is very nervous about getting sick, it makes her weak. After nearly a decade on the street she knows how bad it is to be out of commission, being sick meant working harder just to eat as your body screamed at you just to lay down. Being sick at the Wayne Manor was very different, actual medicine, warm food, not needing to force her body to keep moving when all she wanted was to collapse. Bed rest for once isn't forced, she wants a nap and a rest.
Okay i see her as stubborn but more understanding of when she needs to give in. sure when she first started getting sick, much like the others just ignored and medicated. Once she started getting more sick? Actually takes it easy instead of brute forcing her way through it. Is she going to go on bedrest? Hell the fuck no but shes gonna make herself a nice little treat.
Duke Thomas, the only one to actually take the recommended amount of medicine and not just the entire thing, he's keeping track of what times he ate and how much, making sure to wash his hands more often and all that shit
i was gonna write more but uh, no :3
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regulationhottie7905 · 3 hours ago
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When I first watched ST, Mike’s, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” immediately struck me as him projecting. Like anyone, I’ve read a lot of analysis and I’ve seen a lot of takes, but let me explain mine.
In my opinion, until s4, there’s more evidence to support the idea that MIKE is the one who doesn’t like girls, rather than Will. He only has 3 close (guy) friends. He never remarks on girls he finds pretty, he shows zero interest in any girl but El (which I honestly think is just him trying to hold on to a veneer of heterosexuality). In s2, Will, Lucas, and Dustin wants to be friends with Max- it’s Mike who dislikes her.
I think Mike and Will have always had a different kind of friendship. Even if they don’t have the right words for it, it’s kind of like the codependent homoerotic teenage friendships people make memes about. I mean, honestly, Mike won’t properly apologize to his own girlfriend but he runs with his tail between his legs to apologize to his ‘best friend’. Mike has always known he was Different, but he didn’t have the support system Will has, or the time to try and figure it out.
In s3, Mike is going headfirst into his relationship with El. He’s copying everyone around him and doing what he thinks he should do, which (imo) is why he spends SO much time making out with El (living up to the red blooded American male fantasy) than establishing a genuine relationship with her. Something about it is Off, but I don’t know if he’s even admitted that to himself. And Will made him stop (with the “day without girls”). Will made him hang out with him, and Will made Something Happen.
They’ve always had Something between them, but verbalizing it is too dangerous in a town like Hawkins in the 80s. They just knew that they were… different. Best friends in a way Lucas and Dustin weren’t. But Mike crossed the line during the fight (“it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”) and after he says it, you can see him pull back. He felt guilty and weird and he didn’t know why, and he felt defensive and felt like he was backed into a corner so he said it. Will was being earnest and honest in a way he wasn’t ready for- but he doesn’t know that. He just knows that he felt sick and needed Will to stop. So he blamed Will. Because it’s Will’s being weird, right? Will is the one who’s making him feel weird, because HE’S the one being weird about it.
“It’s not MY fault YOU don’t like girls!” As much as we like to joke about it (Mike accusing Will of being gay whenever they argue) a lot of byler fights make a lot of sense in this vein, and I think it’s a really interesting insight into his character imo. Will is being honest and genuine in a way Mike isn’t ready for. Pushing Will away and attacking him in such a vitriolic ways really ensures that Mike’s masculinity is protected while Will is shamed (in Mike’s mind, at least.) The Byers moved to Cali so soon that the events of the rain fight were never truly discussed.
Mike REALLY hurt Will and I think that’s why he didn’t reach out- because he didn’t know what to say. He avoided his feelings and thinking about Will as much as possible and wrote El letters. But seeing Will at the airport changed something. He’s taller. He’s grown. He’s confident now (I’ll get back to that later). And when he sees him, Mike’s stomach does something it’s never done before. And he doesn’t know why. But despite that, he goes to hug his girlfriend. He doesn’t hug Will.
I firmly believe that Mike is gay (again, imo. Bi Mike people, ily, I love ur analysis, ur cool asf, this is just my opinion). I don’t think he’s ever felt a genuine attraction to El. He’s mimicking his parents and his friends and comics and fairytales- he will be her knight in shining armor, her Superman. With El, it’s friendship and the anxiety of a facade, but he mistakes it for the butterflies of a crush. With Will, it’s the only time he feels something REAL. I just don’t think he’s used to feeling genuine feelings, especially powerful feelings (let’s not forget he’s a teenager, the hormones are RAGING) and while he likes it (even though he has trouble admitting it… I think he gets better as s4 goes on though) it’s overwhelming and scary. I think he interprets those feelings as some kind of threat (especially considering that he’s been bullied before) or at least, he subconsciously does.
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lolazoel · 11 hours ago
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As a traumatised fanfiction writer of this generation i have a total of maybe 3 motivators, called stress, attention and sleep. Attention is the motivator for hobbies also known as my creative endeavours, therefore, dear merlin fandom, gimme some attention so i actually write this idea instead of just daydreaming about it?
Remember the Sigan episode? What if at some point Sigan had possessed Arthur after shedding his first vessel, and Merlin had had to kiss Arthur to basically suck Sigan's soul out of Arthur. It would be their first kiss, with Merlin only remembering having started it and being upset because while it was Arthur he was kissing, Arthur wasn't in control, wasn't reciprocating, wasn't actually present for it. And Arthur only remembers the end of the kiss, of feeling Merlin's lips on his, just as he tries to reciprocate because suddenly he isn’t a prisoner in his body anymore, Merlin-who-isn't-right-who-isn't-properly-Merlin-anymore draws away, snarling and cursing, eyes shifting back and forth in colour in a battle of dominance. And Arthur calls out for Merlin, in that moment his eyes shift to their regular blue before turning a liquid gold and the essence of Sigan leaves his mouth and slams into the containing crystal again.
Merlin staggers backwards in fear of Arthur, who is just looking at him. "You have magic"
Merlin tears up, falling backwards only to crawl weakly after fighting off Sigan. "Arthur, please, i'm sorry. Please!"
Arthur takes quick steps towards him. "You kissed me to defeat Sigan with Magic"
Tears stream down Merlin's face as he ugly cries. "I couldn't let him hurt you. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I promise I only ever used it for you. I would never hurt you. I promise, Arthur. Please."
His babbling dissolves into sobs.
Arthur pulls him to his feet, taking his wrists into his hands to lower Merlin's arms. Even as Arthur lets go of the wrists, Merlin doesn't move, seemingly resigned to be manhandled.
"Merlin... i seem to remember one very distinct thing about this night, something that will never reach the ears of court. Something you will never be allowed to do again."
He fists Merlin's jacket lapels, pulling him in until they feel each other's breath on their faces. "Never again kiss me without giving me the chance to remember," Arthur whispers into the space between them as he closes it.
A last sob, this time of surprise and elation, leaves Merlin's mouth. Their lips meet in a kiss that is them, no third party, no prisoners, just a prince and his warlock. Arthur can taste Merlin's tears but at the same time he feels Merlin claw at his armour, pull him closer, push himself like an offering at Arthur. Gently he releases Merlin's clothing, instead his arm sneaks around Merlin's waist and shoulders, a hand cradling the back of his head oh so softly.
They part after a few seconds, gasping for breath. Merlin rests his head in the crook of Arthur's neck. "Hold me? Please just hold me?"
In that moment Arthur realizes that the powerful sorcerer, who had protected him for years, who could fight against one of the most powerful magic users in history and win within moments while Arthur was powerless, he was a bit younger than Arthur himself. That he needed Arthur just as much as Arthur needed him.
"I was so afraid. Afraid you'd hate me for having magic. Afraid you'd be disgusted by me for loving you."
Arthur just tightened his grip. "I don't care about magic when it's in your hands. And how could i fault you for liking me if i feel the same for you?" Because what was Magic without Courage and Strength? What was a warlock without his prince?
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faceofpoe · 15 hours ago
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Poe, I was delighted, nay, obsessed with the post you reblogged about Collapsed Coruscant. What do you think would happen there after everyone with any credits fucked off to Hosnian Prime or wherever?
Ha, hello friend! Thank you for the much-needed break from doomscrolling. XD
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My morbid obsession with Coruscant has always been around how we've seen it (it's so twisted! it just keeps burying itself, layer by layer! the iconic episode 10 Luthen&Lonni shot is of course an excellent example of the old mostly-forgotten infrastructure but my favorite glimpse of the depths is actually in the final Clone Wars season (there's a fucking lake! fucking what. and even THAT is like... so HIGH relative to the surface) (the SURFACE! there's some twisted remnant of a dead planet down there!) (I have gathered through the course of researching for a TBB fic that the TCW portrayal is largely born from a canceled video game called 1313? I think? Lost to the Dark Times the Disney I imagine. Anyway I digress)(MiniPoe just came down to tell me about his Sonic Encyclo-speedia and something about Metal Sonic getting too much backstory(?)(maybe?)so I lost my train of thought)).
BUT if we take a moment to imagine the infrastructure that must go into keeping the lower levels habitable (I'm not sure what the canon (if any) on how deep one can go) with food and water and air (I mean - AIR, at some depth surely it's just suffocating surely??) -
Side tangent there was an old EU novel in the New Jedi Order bonkers era where a mass evacuation of Coruscant/collapse of the government-ish happened and the novel Traitor has a character wandering the desolation of the planet and all the destruction and I don't remember a lot from it (there were def monsters though) but it's probably where my obsession was born.
Additional side tangent one of the EU X-wing novels has a fun little bit with a star destroyer buried (somehow??? these books were written pre-prequels, mind) under the city and it blasts its way free and just MAYHEM DESTRUCTION DEATH like millions of people just -
LAST side tangent in I thiiiiink the EU Jedi Academy trilogy (do not quote me on that) (also pre-prequels days) the Very Young Solo twins wandered off and ended up finding their way to the bottom of Coruscant where they met a dude who was like... a self-proclaimed king of the underworld (I think he'd once been some govt lackey under Palpatine maybe? I read these like 14 years ago lol) and he'd fled and was ruling happily in the depths and upon being informed 'oh hey yeah it's not like that anymore the Empire is gone you can come back up now' he was all "why would I I am a KING down here?" and just fucked off back to the basement.
Point being the EU was ridiculous as all fuck but it had fun playing with Coruscant before we had a Lucas-approved visual of Coruscant.
BUT if all the wealth up and fled Coruscant after the Empire. Hm. I mean, we still see a significant govt presence on the planet a handful of years later in Mando s3 I believe? So I like to imagine there was a sense of 'hey let's not murder trillions via negligence' but as time goes on and instability heightens and whatever the fuck First Order schisming or some shit (sorry I'm the worst sort of Star Wars fan (the type who thinks Star Wars would be good if only it were good))-
I feel like Coruscant would actually become a bastion (lol (no one gets that joke probably)) for remaining (wealthy) Imperial ideologues. Like - maybe some money would flee but I actually wonder if plenty wouldn't move in and continue enjoying living atop all the poor denizens of the depths. Content to live in the shadow of former Imperial glory and leave the New Republic to its rebuilding.
Ensuing power struggle with underworld warlord sorts who have been moving up since the Empire was yeeted? Waiting until the New Republic gets bored rehabilitating the galaxy to come all the way up and claim the prime real estate?
Eventual massive division and power struggle among a bunch of chaos factions, basically, is my proposal. Eventually, winning becomes more important than maintaining the infrastructure and supply lines. Eventually, maybe, the vicious competition for said supply lines ends up severing them altogether. Plenty of safer business to pursue, in the galactic rebuilding. Coruscant slowly fades from the greater galactic awareness. Left to its madness. Left to tear itself apart. Left to rot. Eventually left, undoubtedly, by many of the same sorts who set it on its slow death spiral in the first place.
Coruscant eventually goes dark.
Coruscant eventually goes quiet.
Every new level constructed through the millennia was, of course, built to be the best, the top, built to last.
How strange to finally have one emerge the victor, standing proud atop a dead city.
But the planet is just the same thing it always was, far back as history remembers - a tomb at the heart of the galaxy.
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ltash · 1 day ago
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"Dauntless"- Ep 23 'Divergent'
SimonGhostRileyxfemalereader
Ghost.
He walked in slow, deliberate steps, his broad frame clad in Dauntless black as the new dauntless leader, his masked face unreadable. His movements were controlled, effortless. Unlike Eric, who thrived on brutality, Ghost exuded something far more dangerous, precision. He didn't make threats; he made promises.
Ghost's shoulders shifted slightly, his body language imperceptible to most, but not to her.
Intrigue.
Suspicion.
She smirked.
Eric, on the other hand, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, let's cut the riddles. What does that mean?"
Jeanine turned away from them, pacing slightly as she chose her words carefully.
"There is something... beyond the city," she began. "Something that has been hidden from us for generations." She tapped the surface of the box. "The founders of our society left behind a message. A truth. And this..." she gestured toward the box, "is the key to unlocking it."
Ghost didn't move, didn't speak. But Jeanine knew he was listening.
Eric, however, scoffed. "You dragged us through hell for a message?"
Jeanine turned to him, her expression hard. "Not just a message. A directive. The reason why we were put into factions in the first place. Why Divergents exist." She looked at Ghost. "Why people like you exist."
For the first time, Ghost spoke, his voice dangerously quiet.
"And what do you plan to do with it?"
Jeanine smiled, the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Oh, Ghost," she murmured, "I plan to change the world."
"Only a Divergent can open this box..." she said, her voice laced with intrigue as she studied the metallic object resting on the pillar before her.
"Find them. All of them," she ordered Eric, her eyes gleaming with determination.
Eric smirked, clearly relishing the hunt. Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode out, leaving Ghost standing there, unmoving.
Jeanine turned to him, watching carefully. His mask concealed his expression, but she could feel the weight of his gaze. Unlike Eric, Ghost was unpredictable, and that unsettled her more than she would ever admit.
"You know, Jeanine," Ghost finally spoke, his voice low and edged with quiet menace. He took a step closer, slow and deliberate. "If you didn't let Four and her go, do you know what I would have done to you?"
Jeanine's breath hitched for just a second, barely noticeable, but he caught it.
Jeanine turned sharply at his words, her icy blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. The confidence she carried moments ago wavered, but only for a second. She knew she had to maintain her composure, especially in front of him.
Ghost stood before her, his towering presence dark and imposing, a stark contrast to the sterile white glow of the Erudite headquarters. His skull-painted mask obscured any emotion, but Jeanine didn't need to see his face to know the weight of his words.
He took a step closer, his boots barely making a sound against the pristine floor.
"I could have killed you right there," he said, his voice low, deliberate.
Jeanine inhaled quietly, her hands clasped behind her back, but she made no sudden movements. She knew better than to provoke him. Ghost was dangerous, not just because of his skill, but because of his unpredictability. He wasn't like Eric, who thrived on power plays and intimidation. Ghost didn't need to intimidate. His mere existence was a threat.
Jeanine straightened her posture, feigning composure. "And yet, you didn't."
Ghost tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words. Then he took another step forward.
"Do you know what's holding me back?" he asked, his voice a quiet storm.
Jeanine swallowed, keeping her expression neutral. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her unease. "Enlighten me."
Ghost's gloved fingers twitched at his side, but he didn't reach for his weapon. He didn't need to.
"She's out there," he said simply. "That's what's holding me back."
Jeanine's sharp mind immediately connected the dots. Her. The girl who had escaped. The one who had left with Four.
The realization sent a ripple of intrigue through her.
Ghost wasn't just playing along with Dauntless leadership for power. He wasn't just here to survive. He was here for her.
Jeanine's lips curved slightly. "Ah... interesting."
Ghost took another step, closing the distance between them until he was just inches away. His voice dropped lower, more dangerous.
"I want you to understand something, Jeanine," he murmured. "You let her go, and that's the only reason you're still breathing."
Jeanine's smirk faltered, if only slightly.
Ghost leaned in just a fraction more. "If anything happens to her, if you even think of hunting her down, I will make sure you don't live to see what's inside that box."
Jeanine held his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, she felt the undeniable weight of a true predator staring her down.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Then, without another word, Ghost stepped back, his movements slow, controlled.
Jeanine exhaled, regaining her composure as he turned toward the door.
She had underestimated him.
And she didn't even know the truth.
That Ghost wasn't just dangerous.
He was the most dangerous kind of Divergent.
Inside the cold, sterile walls of Erudite headquarters, Eric strapped on his gear, his movements methodical as he prepared for departure. The sharp scent of metal and gunpowder clung to the air. Ghost stood beside him, watching with an impassive expression, though his mind was already calculating his next move.
"Where are you going?" Ghost asked, his voice even.
Eric smirked, securing a fresh magazine into his rifle. "To take Divergents into custody. Jeanine ordered me to head to Amity and find them. They can help open the box."
Ghost knew the truth, he was a Divergent, a powerful one. But no one could ever suspect it. Not now. Not while he had a role to play. He also knew exactly who Eric was hunting: you, Four, Caleb, and Peter.
At any cost, Ghost would not let Eric take you back to Jeanine.
"I'm coming with you," Ghost said, grabbing his own weapon and loading it smoothly. He kept his voice neutral, authoritative, just another Dauntless leader doing his duty.
Eric raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "As you wish."
The armored vehicles roared to life, their engines growling as they rolled out of Erudite headquarters. Three heavily armed transports moved in formation, cutting through the desolate streets of Chicago toward Amity.
The armored vehicle rumbled beneath Ghost as he sat beside Eric, his expression unreadable beneath his mask. The convoy of three heavily armed Dauntless vehicles sped through the remnants of the city, leaving behind the cold steel and towering buildings of Erudite as they made their way toward Amity’s peaceful farmlands.
Eric sat beside him, smirking as he checked his weapon. "It’s almost funny, isn’t it? These Divergents think they can hide in a place like Amity. They forget we always find them." He chuckled, shaking his head. "They’re just delaying the inevitable."
Ghost didn’t respond immediately. He couldn’t afford to reveal anything, not even a flicker of emotion. He knew Eric was watching him, gauging his reactions. Instead, he shifted his grip on his rifle and kept his voice steady.
"If they’re smart, they’ll already be gone," he said, his tone cold, detached. "But if they’re still there… we’ll bring them in."
Eric grinned. "That’s the spirit, mate. I knew you had it in you."
Ghost barely reacted. Inside, his mind was already racing, calculating every possible way to get you out of there before Eric could put his hands on you. He knew you, knew that you wouldn’t just run at the first sign of trouble—you’d fight if it meant protecting the people around you.
And that terrified him.
He couldn’t let you get caught. Not when he had fought so hard to keep you safe.
The vehicle hit a bump, shaking slightly as the convoy neared the Amity border. The peaceful farmlands came into view, stretching out like a golden sea in the early morning light. The sight of it, so calm and untouched by war, felt surreal compared to the chaos that brewed just beyond its borders.
Eric leaned forward, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We’ll spread out as soon as we arrive," he ordered. "Separate the weak from the strong, and if anyone resists, we put them down. We need a Divergent, not a revolution."
Ghost tightened his grip on his gun.
Not on my watch.
The moment they reached Amity, he knew he’d have to move fast. If Eric so much as laid a finger on you, Ghost would have no choice but to blow his cover.
And if that happened…
He’d make sure Eric didn’t leave Amity alive.
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blackcatxmagic · 1 day ago
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Sure enough, Copper didn't need Dorothy to reply; he could tell she appreciated the words, and there was a sort of understanding that passed between them. It wasn't always easy to talk about the hard things, and it was even harder to find someone who could fully empathize, so Copper was just appreciating this unexpected connection.
It troubled Copper to hear Dorothy talk about how Cardinal Hill had changed. Until now, he'd kind of wondered if maybe it had just always been like this, and he wasn't used to it yet. After all, this was a town full of witches, so it was to be expected that things wouldn't be so surprising for it to always feel a little...well, spooky here. But to know it hadn't always been like that bothered him, and Copper felt a sense of unease prickling at his skin, as if suddenly he wasn't alone. It was a familiar feeling, that sense of being watched, but it was different now. It was almost like Copper felt as though surrounded by some sinister presence. Usually when he felt this way, it was more like someone watching him through a window or from a dark corner, but this felt like they were standing right in front of him, openly stalking him. And it felt less like a person was stalking him and more like a powerful force. It made him shudder, and Copper hoped that Dorothy wouldn't notice.
Even though this conversation was terrifying, Copper felt a little bit better in a way because he felt more stable, at least mentally speaking. Now he knew he wasn't losing his mind, that something was going on, so he felt a little more like he could trust his feelings. "It feels...dangerous," Copper said, voice shaking a little. "I feel like we're on the precipice of something terrible, and it doesn't help that I keep drawing Death and The Tower." Both of those cards weren't always bad, and Death in particular generally didn't actually mean death. But they both meant something major was about to happen, a transformation or change, and that change was sometimes cataclysmic, especially in the case of The Tower. "Today I drew Death, The Tower, and the V of Cups," Copper told Dorothy, "and I don't know if you know anything about tarot, but...that's not great." Again Copper laughed, though there was still no humor in it; like Dorothy, Copper felt like he had to laugh. If he didn't, he might fall apart completely. He was barely keeping it together now.
"It's okay," Copper replied. "Maybe I should be a little scared. Sometimes fear keeps you safe." Copper had never felt like being fearless was a good thing - you could respect your fear while not letting it rule you, though the jury was out on if he was actually doing that. Fear had compelled him to flee his home and move across the country, after all. "It can't be just us, but is it every witch, every resident, or just specific people?" Copper wondered. "And if it's just witches or just specific people, why? Why us? Maybe it's only people with...well, things in their past they'd rather leave, you know, in the past." Copper couldn't know if Dorothy had any skeletons in her closet, but Copper knew he did; his closet felt like it was full to bursting.
He thought about what Dorothy asked, why they were the ones being affected, and he wished he had an answer. "I think everyone has secrets," Copper said. "And I feel like the person doing this has to know them. The questions is how? And why? What do they want from us?" Copper didn't have a lot of answers, but he thought he did to what Dorothy asked next, kind of at least: "I don't think we're meant to understand it," he responded, "not yet at least. I don't think we're meant to know right now. But eventually...I think we will. Eventually our past is going to come for us." And then Copper shuddered again.
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Dorothy appreciated Copper's words. She had a lot of comforting presences in her life, fortunate enough to have a loving partner, and a close family, even if they had their flaws like most others; despite this, Dorothy had left so much unspoken - more than she could even process and understand herself - and so to have Copper speak words that almost perfectly consoled her in the case of some of those unspoken struggles meant a lot to her. As much as they meant to her, however, Dorothy felt as though there was no adequate reply. She had a feeling that Copper would understand.
"I've been here my whole entire life, Cardinal born and raised, and it's never been like this," she explained as Copper confirmed her suspicion: that he hadn't been in town for an overly long time. "I mean, I was away for college, but even still, I visited home, you know? And it's just... Nothing in town has ever felt like this before, it feels so..." Dorothy was almost beginning to grow frustrated at herself as she struggled to find the right words. "It feels twisted, dark."
Dorothy had thought that she was losing her mind, too. It was no secret that her life hadn't been without struggle, and so it wasn't the most far-fetched theory for someone like her to have. Particularly as someone who battled with secrets, Dorothy had honestly been afraid that it might have all built up until she cracked. "What are the odds that the only two people it's happening to have met to speak about it?" She questioned, backing Copper's theory that it had to be happening to more people out there. "It doesn't make sense for it to be a coincidence, but it also doesn't make sense for it to be this isolated. Surely it's happening to all of the witches, if not a lot of us..." she almost trailed off in though. This wasn't happening to the humans too, was it? Suddenly an even stronger fear rose up inside of her. Was Elias safe?
"I'm sorry," Dorothy had to laugh, too. If she didn't laugh, she would only keep on crying, and the last thing she wanted to happen was for word to get around that Dorothy Prior was crying her eyes out in the middle of town. "I didn't mean to scare you, it only made sense," she wasn't going to backtrack and take back what she had said, though she did admittedly feel a little bad about suggesting it. "It would, but not an impossible amount of power," her heart picked up speed as she continued to think about it, discuss it.
"But why?" Was all Dorothy could ask. "I don't understand, what have we done?" Evil existed in the world, and after studying forensic science, Dorothy knew that it wasn't impossible for someone to act violently without motive, but even so, it hardly made sense. You could almost always give reason to heinous acts, even if only barely, and Dorothy couldn't think of any good reason for the whole of the town to suffer. It wasn't like everyone had secrets like her own... "It doesn't make sense. How can you stop something that you can't even understand?" She dabbed her teary eyes with the napkin again.
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keeps-ache · 5 months ago
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The OCs you posted recently look really cool- could you talk a bit about them? Maybe the antagonists as well?
!! oh thank you :D
suuure yea :>> it's a smaller, newer thing of mine so not a lot n some of it may change!! but here's some profiles lol,
✧ Tide (the square head; they/them) is some sort of creature thing who lives in a remnant of an old world that decayed a long time ago after finding themself trapped there (that changes after they meet the goddess). they're head over heels for the goddess that still remains in the corridors there and they're not very normal about it hbfhvs - they can't be killed by any regular shmegular means and i have fun with that loll
✧ Vernor (ponytail gal; she/her) i don't have a lot for her, but she ended up in the same place Tide did and is very upset about it, understandably. she's good a martial arts and cries easily, and is pretty suspicious of most strangers :) she has a small knife-thing that works like a witch's broom (you have to hold the little handle for dear life though lmao) but i haven't gotten around to drawing it so !
✧ Dire (red circle; he/him) was created by the aforementioned goddess to dump emotions/thoughts she didn't want into, and then just sent him on his way lmfvhsh - because of that he is confused most of the time and still pretends to know everything but is figuring things out for real lol :3👍he hates to change his clothing and is snappy, and the snappiness may get worse on personal proximity hbfshv
^ these three have a Thing goin on. mostly qpp cuz i think it's fun :33
✧ Sleepy (the antagonist, he/him) the elusive guy. elusive bc i haven't drawn him lmfsh - another budy trapped in this old chunk of a dead world, he is also upset about it but to a much more desperate extent lol - his name isn't actually Sleepy but Tide nicknamed him that when they first met and now he can't seem to shake it hfsh, he Does hate it :) he is violent but he can play nicies so he does that most time loll
✧ the goddess (only thing holding this world together, She/her/it (capitalization is optional :3)) has been here for ages, ages, ages. her world's been long dead but she just keeps living for the monotony of it hfsh; plus, it's like her job never ended if she just keeps doing the same regular things she always did. bc of that it's actually preserved her chunk of annihilation, and sucks other creatures in w/o her knowing. the chunk is like a maze that keeps changing shape, so unless you can see it from a god's eyes the place is iiiiiinfinite! and terrible; the place changes to her moods and wishes, which can be interpreted p strangely lol :3 she's talked to and kept Tide around bc she needed somebody to deal with all these weird people coming into her dang house, and it's worked out fairly well (dubious)! :D
the world-chunk is inspired by vaporwave, abandoned malls, and the distinct smell of chlorine my mother has sometimes loll :)
#just us hi#a dollar and 75 cents#HELLO#thanks for asking. here are many words bfhsvkk#the main 3 have their little powers too but i'm still workshopping those n they aren't so important really lol :)#they're kinda my 'neutral' project so if i get stuck and can't pick anything i wanna do/think abt i just default to them hfh :>>#also tide can go by any pronouns but i am/was tired. depending on whose talking abt them they'll change sometimes hfsbhv#vernor made everyone in the group a lesbian by default so everyone say thanks vernor lmvjskvj#dire is trans 💥💥💥 was created and immediately went 'do we have other options' and She went '? yeah' 'well let's see them' kfsvhb#sleepy was transported here in his PJs n that's how he got that funkin name hfbvsj <3 he's got good reasons for everything but Aaaaawful#methods lolll - he n tide were semi-close but then Uh Ohh !! he went and did a thing hfh :)#the goddess pretends like it doesn't see anything but She is LOCKED in. laser-focused. next to nothing is escaping her#despite being the goddess here she can't harm anybody; thaaat's another reason for tide lol :3#mmm and i think i only missed Diane; diane lives in a place that never moves and nearly anyone can find when they need to#i think the goddess loves her n that's why she doesn't move hfshb :3#//ANYWHO yeah. stuff#this is one of my smaller projects...#can you imagine how unmanageable pi.e is Lmaoooo#//THANKS for the ask and interest ! ! ! :D#[spins spins throws glitter on you spins]
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inspector-montoya-fox · 2 years ago
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hi how have you been?
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tiffanylamps · 2 years ago
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i apologise to my mutuals for who i become every wednesday after watching ted lasso i just love that show. I LOVE IT.
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sttoru · 2 months ago
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. play fighting with your lover quickly turns into you being pounded on the couch.
tags. (assassin!)toji x female reader. smut. dōggy style. age gap implied. with plot-ish. unprotected -> p in v. size difference / kink. power trip-ish. teasing. crēampie. dacryphilia. tummy bulging. pūssy slapping. breēding mention. reader gets called ‘(little) girl, pretty, doll, slut.’ not proofread. wc: 3.4k
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you let out a sigh of relief when your lover comes back home safe from another mission. toji’s risky job always leaves you anxious, knowing what could happen to him if things took a turn for the worse.
“keheh, there’s my pretty girl,” toji grins as he feels you jump into his embrace the instant he steps into the living room. your arms wrap around his waist and your head rests against his chiseled chest. he’s sweaty and bloody, yet you can’t care less. you’ve waited all day for him.
you tilt your head back and give the black-haired man a quick, passionate kiss. he returns it with equal force before picking you up and bringing you over to the couch. once toji put you down, he reaches a hand out to lazily ruffle your hair, “i’m g’nna take a shower, yeah?”
you shake your head and grab his hand before he can think of moving away. “no, want you to stay. just for a little more,” you attempt to coax toji into staying with you for a bit more.
“after i take a shower, doll. i probably smell ‘n look like shit,” the assassin mumbles in a low tone. his hair is wet with sweat, black locks sticking to his forehead. his compression shirt is torn in some places, but it’s neatly outlining his pecs, which makes him look ten times more attractive.
“nu-uh, you don’t,” you refute and tug at toji’s wrist again. he playfully rolls his eyes after giving in to your innocent request. you clearly don’t mind the sweaty state he’s in. you just want to cuddle up and talk to him about all kinds of things. “you look as handsome as ever,” you smile at him once you straddle his lap. toji’s hands find your hips, his nails ghosting over your skin to send shivers down your spine.
“heh. that ain’t nothin’ new,” your lover leans his head back with a cocky smirk. he knows how much you love it when he’s all sweaty and tired. toji never fails to spot the way your eyes wander up and down his muscular figure whenever he’s wearing that signature outfit of his. a black compression shirt that defines his pecs and white-ish baggy pants. you love it.
your fingers trace circles over his chest. you don’t seem to care about the random crimson droplets on his skin. they’re not his, thus you let it go. asking questions about the job he’s finished will only ruin the mood you’ve set. plus, toji clearly needs some distraction from the fact that his limbs are aching. he’s outdone himself today as well.
“you tired?” you ask through a soft murmur. your boyfriend nods while yawning, teasingly pinching your cheek afterwards. “mhm,” toji hums while playing with the collar of your shirt, eyes wandering down to your tits. one of his most favorite spots on your body.
you’re clearly not wearing a bra and it’s making it difficult for him to stay focused. your nipples push against the material of your pyjamas so deliciously, just begging to be touched by his fingers. he quietly clears his throat and looks the other direction to play it off.
“oh?” you giggle and tap toji’s cheek twice to gain his attention, though with no success. he’s trying his best to come off as nonchalant as possible—to remain that stoic man he’s always been. his attempts are proven futile when you press your breasts against his chest.
“come on, babe. look at meeee,” you laugh and resort to tickling toji’s belly and armpits. he freezes for a second before scoffing at your actions, his hands immediately rush under your shirt to tickle you back. you end up squirming on his lap, trying to swat his arms in attempt to defend yourself.
your lover lets out a haughty chuckle as you become defenceless because of his well calculated revenge tickles. “mm? didn’t hear ya, y’ should speak up,” toji teases you, clearly seeing how you’re struggling to talk as he makes you squeal and laugh uncontrollably.
there are tears forming on your eyes. your breath comes in short gasps when you finally find a chance to jump off toji’s lap. “shut up, fushiguro!” you call out, going back to last name basis, which you know toji dislikes. you stumble back a little and stick your tongue out at your lover before fleeing the scene. or at least you try to.
“fushiguro, aye?” you hear toji’s voice right behind you, and when you turn around to face him, he’s already got you caged in his arms. you gasp and kick your legs, hitting him in the shin. the man groans at the contact and loosens his grip a little. you take the opportunity again, jumping onto his back, clinging onto him with your legs around his waist. you encircle your arm around his neck and catch him off guard with a surprise headlock.
“hehe, got you now,” you grin smugly. toji’s not giving his best, you know that, because you’d be on the floor if he did. he’s allowing you to have fun and he’s indulging you, which you more than so appreciate. “what? cat got your tongue, big boy?” you continue challenging him, proud of your little achievement.
you’re painfully oblivious to toji's struggles. how he's struggling with his inner desires, how his hands ball up into fists at his side. he can feel your body clinging onto him, your legs wrapped so tightly around his waist. it’s adorable that you find so much joy in having the upper hand over a grown man like him.
adorable, and such a huge turn on.
toji can’t believe that he’s getting a boner from just playing with you like this. maybe it’s your body that’s pressed against him so snugly, letting him feel every feminine curve or maybe it's the fact that he knows he can easily pin you to the ground and show you what a real man can do until you're begging for mercy.
your nipples are pressed against his back and it’s so hard to act like he can’t feel that. it’s hard to believe you’re not doing it on purpose, but you truly aren’t.
“careful,” toji comments in a husky voice. the corner of his lip twitches, his eyes hidden behind his black bangs, “y’ might start something you can’t finish.” you figure that it’s just bait to scare you off, so you don’t take it seriously. you tighten the headlock a little, biting toji’s ear and nibbling on it as revenge.
“you’re not scaring me with that,” you chuckle and pinch toji’s cheek with your free hand. the older man turns his head slightly, catching a glimpse of your mischievous grin. oh, how cute.
with a swift, fluid motion, toji reaches up with both hands and grasps your thighs firmly. in a heartbeat, your positions reverse and he pins you to the nearby wall. both of his meaty arms cage you in by pressing against the concrete on either side of your head.
“seems like i’m the one who got ya now, doll,” toji murmurs, his voice low and laced with a hint of lust. he gazes down at you, your faces mere inches apart. you can feel his breath fanning against your lips. he’s itching to claim your mouth so, so bad.
but before he can capture your sweet lips with his, you catch him off guard by pushing your full weight forward, causing toji to lose balance. he tumbles backwards onto the carpet below with you on top of him.
“nope, am not giving up so easily,” you giggle as you try to grab at his wrists. you’re oblivious to toji’s desires, too focused on overpowering the man who could snap you in half. it’s fun when he allows you to take control.
however, your lover is slowly losing his rationality. you’re seated on top of his abs and he can swear he can feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes. it’s the only thing he can focus on at that moment. the only thing he craves.
“fuck, c’mere,” toji growls and rolls you over so you’re pinned beneath him on the floor. he can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips when your laughter echoes throughout the living room. even through his lustful haze, he finds your joy thoroughly endearing.
you manage to find another opening and roll over again so you’re on top of him instead. the cycle continues for a few more seconds, your bodies lost in a tangled mess of limbs. you exchange gasps, grunts and giggles while you’re ‘fighting’ for dominance.
when you bite on toji’s shoulder as a way to catch him off guard once more, he hisses. not in an annoyed or pained way— no. he’s so turned on that you biting him sends a jolt of pleasure right down to his aching cock. so turned on that he may accidentally have developed a new kink in that same second.
either way, that little action was his last straw.
toji effortlessly lifts you up on the couch, your body bouncing a bit on the plush cushions as he turns you around on your stomach. one arm hooks around your neck, his bicep pressing against your throat. not enough to hinder your airway, but enough to send shivers down your spine.
“told ya to b’ careful,” toji grunts, his breath against your sensitive skin from behind, “y’ should start listening to me more.” his tongue flicks out and licks a stripe up your ear. his crotch is pressed right against your ass and only then do you notice his raging hard-on.
your eyes widen, cheek smushed against his muscular arm wrapped around your neck, keeping you in place beneath his big body. “oh, fuck, toji,” you let out a shuddering breath. you’re completely engulfed by his large frame—disappearing out of sight. just how he likes it.
“yeah? feel that?” toji grins as he squeezes his bicep around your delicate throat some more. you gasp and whine, turned on by him overpowering you, as much as you had been enjoying the opposite just seconds ago. he mocks your earlier words with a grunt, “think i have’ta remind my lil’ brat exactly what this ‘big boy’ can do to ya.”
and the older man wastes no time to do exactly that.
your shorts and panties are tossed carelessly on the carpet, your cheek smushed against the cushions that you’re desperately gripping. your face is contorted with pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes glazed over and your swollen lips parted to take shallow breaths.
you can feel the ache in your lower back. the arch of your spine is nearly unnatural as your ass is pushed so high up, bouncing back to meet the mean backshots your man is giving you.
“ah, ngh! t—toooji,” you mewl loudly, droplets of saliva trickling down from the corner of your mouth. you can’t deny that this entire situation has you soaked.
the switch toji went through, from being playful and letting you do what you want to reminding you who’s boss at the end of the day— it’s perfect and feels way too good. the cherry on top is the familiar scent of his body, the sweat mixed with his cologne.
it adds to the pleasure, makes you dizzy in a good way.
toji grips your waist, his manly hands trailing down to your hips every now and then for the extra leverage. his fingers dig into your soft flesh as he pounds into you mercislessly, fucking into you like you’re his personal cocksleeve. “ain’t gonna try that again, are ya?”
“dumb lil’ slut,” your harsh lover grumbles under his breath, hand smacking the fat of your ass. toji loves seeing it ripple underneath him, even more so when his hips smack against your rear with strength that leaves your flesh stinging, “bet ya love it when i remind you who owns this cunt.”
toji groans as he slides his thick cock in and out of your tight cunt. you’re gripping him like you never want to let go, like you want to milk him of every drop of the cum stored in his balls.
the sight that he’s blessed with from his point of view can make him bust a load right then and there. you’re presenting your ass to him shamelessly, looking back over your shoulder with lust-blown eyes.
and don’t get him started on the outline of his dick distending your tummy, the one he can feel whenever he reaches a hand around to press against your lower abdomen and circle your clit. too fucking lewd.
“fuck, yeahhhh. take that fat fuckin’ dick, baby,” toji throws his head back as he pushes your body even further into the couch. you swear he’s folding you in half, “let me show ya what a real man in charge can do— how a real man fucks his woman.”
toji’s cock is ruining you, reshaping your insides to fit his massive size and you don’t mind it one bit. in fact, you love it. love the feel of him, the stretch and burn of his thick cock splitting you open.
“yes, mmh, yes! fuck me!” you keen, sobbing from the pleasure. your hand reaches back to scratch at toji’s arm, trying to hold onto him, to find him even in the midst of it all. the view of your desperation and your pleas makes him lose it.
the dark-haired man scoffs, “oh, i’ll fuck ya, all right. . .”
with a low growl, toji plants one foot on the floor next to you, his other leg still bent at the knee on the sofa you’re laying at. the muscles in his arms ripple as he lifts your hips even higher up to be able to meet his thrusts.
“fuuuuuck! right there!” you wail, your head trashing back and forth on the damp sofa. from this new angle, he can drive his fat dick into you even deeper, engorged tip hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see white.
toji revels in the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, mixed with your sweet moans. you seem so much smaller than him in this new position, your body helplessly giving in, allowing him to put you in whatever position he wants. it boosts his ego and makes his cock pulse inside of you.
he loves seeing the tears in your eyes as it nearly gets too much for you to handle. it motivates him to fuck you harder until you’re full on bawling, which he can easily get off on. making you cry in pure bliss is all he wants to achieve.
your pussy is tight as it clenches around his cock like a vice. toji’s hand slithers around to circle your clit, making your legs spasm and hips thrust back sloppily. “shitttt, y’r sweet lil’ cunt was made just for this—” he pants as his thumb presses against the nub, “to take my cock.”
all you can do is dumbly nod at whatever your partner says. “mmhm, ah yeah, made for you,” your small whines are music to his ears. the palms of your hands feel clammy as you hold onto anything you can grasp.
everything around you is a blur as the only thing you can focus on is the way his heavy cock fills you so well.
toji can feel your juices trickling down his heavy sack, soaking his thighs and yours, as well as the couch. it will leave stains, but he doesn’t care and neither do you.
“look at ya,” he huffs and slaps your clit once, callused fingers dragging along your puffy lips that are parted obscenely wide for his cock. toji brings his wet finger to his mouth to lick it clean. he hums satisfactorily at the taste, “pussy’s droolin’ aaaall over my dick. nasty girl.”
your pussy starts fluttering around his thick length as it impales you over and over. it’s a telltale sign of your orgasm, one toji has come to recognise quite easily.
“yeah? gonna make an even bigger mess on my cock?” he grins before pressing his chest against your sweaty back, blanketing your small body. the extra weight added to the ecstasy only makes you scream louder for him.
“yes, yes, yes! gonna cum!” you cry out, toes curling and eyes rolling back as you try to prolong your pleasure. even if it’s only for a second.
toji curses under his breath as his hips move faster to drive you over the edge. he can’t wait to feel your cunt get even tighter, to make it feel like you’re about to snap his dick off. he loves the pain mixed with the pleasure of your tightness.
“do it. cream all over me, c’mon, little girl. y’ can do it,” toji coaxes, delivering small smacks to your clit, causing your hips to jolt back with each slap. you can’t do it anymore— can’t hold on any longer.
you scream as you cum, your pussy spasming wildly around toji’s pulsing cock. that sensation alone has the older man gasping for air, nails digging into the flesh of your ass. no matter how many times he fucks you, the moment you cum, he automatically follows.
the way you squeeze his dick and hold onto it like you don’t want to let go is simply too much.
“fuck, fuck, fuck. g’nna make me bust a fat fuckin’ nut inside of you,” toji groans, his rhythm growing sloppy yet his thrusts are still deliciously hard, “gonna pump this pussy full of my load. breed ‘er nice and deep. shitt— take it!”
a strangled moan leaves his lips as he grinds his hips against your ass while his cock jolts inside of you. he pumps jet after jet of hot cum directly into your womb, tip rubbing against the deepest spot he can reach.
“eaaaasy, yeah, just like that. let it soak into ya,” toji hisses as his hips jerk erratically, “good girl. takin’ all of it so well.” it seems to go on forever as spurts of semen flood your insides for a good few seconds.
once your lover fully empties his balls inside of you, he feels himself grow weak. his thighs and arms tremble a bit from overexertion.
you collapse together in a sweaty heap, toji’s softening dick still buried deep inside of you. the only thing filling the room now is your heavy breathing as you slowly regain your composure. it’s quite a comfortable silence.
after a while, toji shifts. he pulls out with a wet squelch and watches with half-lidded eyes as thick, pearly globs of cum trickle down your slit. he grins lazily at the sight before turning you around.
you’re completely fucked out, it seems. your chest is heaving and your eyes are barely open. the trails of tears and drool on your face tells the man enough. toji wipes a stray strand of hair from your face with a haughty chuckle, “damn, keheh, fucked y’ real good. you okay though?”
you weakly nod in response before wrapping your arms around him. your hands rest on his broad back, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.
toji hums and hugs you back, being careful not to squish you under his weight. he presses chaste kisses to your temple as he enjoys your frame molding perfectly against the hard muscles of his body.
“y’ did so well for me, little girl,” he comments gruffly, voice deep and a bit hoarse. you smile at the praise and murmur a small ‘thanks’. nothing is better than being able to feel safe with your lover after an intense session like that.
you pull back a bit and look up at toji with a little, playful grin. “guess i need to challenge you more often. felt too good, babe.”
toji lets out a small scoff and shakes his head. a ghost of a smirk appears on his lips as he slightly pinches your side. he holds you against his chest and buries his nose into your hair, sighing as he finally relaxes his weary body.
“y’ can try. might break ya for real next time, though.”
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sonarspace · 3 months ago
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NO NUT NOVEMBER ?
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꒰ synopsis. no nut november or nut november. who knows.. ft. sukuna. choso. nanami. toji. geto. gojo. (separate) warnings. thigh riding. tittyfūcking. chōking. slightly rough sėx. unprōtected. 69. öral. a/n. back again (maybe).. hope you all have a wonderful week!
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✧ SUKUNA
it’s only been four days, and sukuna’s already scoffing at the whole idea of no nut november. ridiculous, he thinks. restraint has never been an issue for him—especially not with you. but tonight, with the way you’re straddling his lap, that teasing glint in your eyes, he feels the beginnings of a crack.
you’re barely moving, just a subtle shift of your hips as you sit on his throne, looking every bit like you belong there. his gaze hardens, watching as you lean in close, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest. even as he fights it, his breathing hitches, his grip on your hips tightening.
“you’re really gonna test me like this?” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. there’s a smirk on his face, but it’s more forced than usual, as if he’s already starting to lose his grip.
“oh, i’m sorry—is this getting to you?” you whisper, voice soft, teasing, that wicked little smirk of yours barely hidden.
his jaw clenches, and you see that familiar spark in his eyes. “you think you’re funny, don’t you?” he mutters, tone dark. “testing me, here, of all places.” there’s a slight growl in his voice, but you can tell he’s barely holding it together.
he lets out a low growl, and without breaking eye contact, his voice sharpens as he commands, “out. all of you.” the quiet shuffle of footsteps fades quickly as the doors shut, leaving the room silent and thick with tension.
the second you’re alone, his hands are on you, pulling you closer, his lips hovering just over yours as he growls, “now… let’s see how long that attitude lasts.”
one of his hands drifts up, finding the tie of your robe and giving it a slow, deliberate tug. the fabric slips loose, sliding off your shoulders, and he watches with a dark gleam in his eyes as it falls to the base of the throne, leaving you completely exposed to him.
“you wanted my attention, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous whisper against your ear. “well, now you’ve got it.”
he pulls you up, positioning himself, and with one powerful thrust, he’s inside you, filling you completely. a shiver runs through him, and his smirk returns, fierce and possessive as his hands move to grip your hips, holding you steady. “don’t think for a second you’re in control,” he mutters, his gaze fierce, unrelenting.
he leans in close, his lips brushing your neck as he begins to move, each thrust rougher, deeper, driving him further from the restraint he swore he’d keep. “you feel that?” he growls, his voice barely more than a whisper. “that’s me claiming every part of you… reminding you who you belong to.”
his hands tighten on your hips, guiding you to meet his rhythm, his breath hot against your skin as he loses himself in the moment. the intensity in his gaze is almost overwhelming, his usual confidence giving way to something darker, something that borders on need as he pulls you closer, deeper.
“look at me,” he demands, his voice low, ragged. “i want to see the way you fall apart. just like this… just for me.”
you lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze almost overwhelming, but you hold your ground, meeting him thrust for thrust. “sukuna,” you breathe out, barely a whisper, your voice catching on each of his movements.
“say it again,” he murmurs, his voice low, ragged, his usual control slipping. “say my name.”
when you do, a shiver runs through him, and his movements grow desperate, his grip bruising on your hips as he drives you both to the edge, each thrust more intense until he finally lets himself go, pulling you close as he shudders, his breath hot against your skin.
as he pulls back, chest heaving, there’s a satisfied smirk on his face, his gaze still dark and possessive. “don’t forget… you asked for this,” he murmurs.
but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s far from done.
✧ CHOSO
choso lasted exactly two weeks, longer than anyone expected—including himself. his quiet, focused nature kept him in control, but tonight, you can see his resolve wavering. he’s watching you as you get ready for bed, his gaze lingering as you slip your shirt off, his breath catching when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra.
his eyes widen, and a blush spreads across his cheeks as he tries to look away. “a-are you… doing this on purpose?” he stammers, voice barely above a whisper, struggling to keep his composure.
you step closer, a playful smile on your lips as you look at him, tilting your head. “is it working?”
he nods, swallowing hard, his gaze reluctantly drifting back to your chest. “i… yeah. it’s… it’s definitely working,” he admits, his voice soft, almost reverent.
you move in front of him, leaning close so he can see every inch, and his hands come up without thinking, fingers brushing over your skin. he lets out a soft, shaky breath as his hands settle on your boobs, his eyes filling with a raw, almost worshipful hunger as he strokes your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his fingers.
without even realizing it, he leans in, his face pressing into your chest, his lips brushing over your skin. his hands tremble as they slide over your boobs, and he lets out a quiet, desperate sound, his mouth pressing against your skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself completely.
his tongue flicks over your nipple, his breath hot and unsteady as he nuzzles deeper, barely holding himself together as he finally indulges in the softness he’s been craving. “so perfect…” he murmurs, voice barely more than a breath, as if he’s talking to himself.
you gently push him back, sinking down onto your knees, and his eyes flutter open, his breathing ragged as you help him out of his pants. he watches you, lips parted, as you wrap your hand around his length, guiding him toward your chest.
pressing the head of his cock against your nipple, you let him feel the warmth and softness, watching as his eyes go hazy, his lips parting in a soft moan. his hips jerk forward instinctively, grinding into your chest as his head falls back, completely lost in the sensation.
“oh… god,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath as you press him between your boobs, holding him there. his eyes roll back, a deep, unsteady moan slipping from his lips as he watches, entirely undone by the moment.
“does that feel good?” you murmur, and he nods frantically, his body trembling as he begins to move, each slide of his length sending a shiver through him, his hands gripping your shoulders as if he needs to hold on.
“yes… please, don’t stop,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and need. “i… i can’t hold back,” he whispers, his gaze darkening with raw, desperate want.
“then don’t,” you reply, holding him close, guiding his movements as he lets out soft, needy sounds, his breathing growing more ragged with every slide, his whole body tensing as he loses control.
as he reaches his peak, his body shudders, and he lets go completely, painting your chest and stomach in white, his eyes widening as he gazes at you, breathless and in awe. he’s silent for a moment, taking in the sight of you, then, unable to stop himself, he gently pushes you back onto the floor, hovering over you as his hand trails down your body. his voice is low, almost pleading, as he whispers, “please… let me feel you. i need you.”
✧ NANAMI
nanami had lasted ten days into november, his natural discipline keeping him steady, even as you spent the morning testing his patience. during breakfast, you’d nudged his foot under the table, let your fingers brush his a little too long, your playful glances lingering. he brushed it off with his usual calm, but now, as you slip into his office just after his last meeting, he’s holding onto his control by a thread.
he looks up at you, his gaze lingering, something dark and intense flashing in his eyes. “come here for a minute,” he says, his voice steady, but with an edge that makes your pulse quicken.
you step closer, dressed in a soft, silk nightgown that flows against your skin, and before you can say a word, he catches your wrist, pulling you close. in one swift movement, he turns you around, pressing your wrists behind your back, his grip firm as he holds you in place. his breath is hot against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he murmurs, “you’ve been testing me all day. and now… you’re going to see exactly what that gets you.”
he reaches for his belt, looping it around your wrists, securing them firmly, his fingers lingering just long enough to make you tremble. his other hand slides down, pressing you flat against the desk, the cool surface meeting your skin as he pushes the silk nightgown up over your hips. with one quick motion, he slips your underwear down, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle.
you feel him press against you, his hand pressing into the small of your back as he positions himself. he takes a breath, and you feel the head of his cock brush against you, firm and thick, making you catch your breath. he guides himself in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he stretches you, filling you completely. a low, rough sound escapes his lips, and his hands tighten on your waist as he holds you there, his restraint unraveling with each second.
the desk creaks beneath you as he begins to move, his thrusts steady but intense, each one pressing you deeper against the hard surface. papers slip from the edge, fluttering to the floor as the table rocks beneath his rhythm, the soft creak and the shuffle of falling papers mingling with his ragged breathing.
“all day…” he mutters, voice strained, his hand gripping your waist with possessiveness . “you’ve been pushing me… testing my patience.” each word is punctuated by a deep thrust, the stretch leaving you breathless, his length filling you to the brim
his rhythm grows more desperate, his pace quickening as his control slips further, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “you feel incredible.” his tone is low, rough, filled with raw need.
the sound of the desk creaking beneath you fills the room as he drives deeper, harder, the intensity building as he loses himself completely. his hand slides up, pressing firmly into your lower back as he pulls you closer, each thrust sending a shock of pleasure through you. “you have no idea how close i was,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a growl, “to doing this hours ago… right here.” his movements grow more urgent, his grip tightening as he lets out a low, guttural sound.
as he finally shudders, burying himself fully, he lets out a deep groan, his breathing ragged, his hand still pressing you down as he reaches his peak. even as he catches his breath, his grip on you lingers, fingers tracing over your skin as he glances at the scattered papers, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
before you can fully recover, he lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom. his voice is low, a hint of mischief coloring his usual calm tone. “oh, we’re far from done,” he murmurs, as he sees the look of slight confusion your face. “i think it’s only fair that i tease and edge you, just like you’ve been doing to me for the past ten days.”
✧ TOJI
toji lasted one day. just one. patience was never his strong suit, and especially not with you. by the time you get home from work, he’s already at his breaking point, practically pacing, anticipation coiling tight as he’s waited to see you all day.
the second you walk through the door, he’s on you, gaze dark and hungry as it roams over you, taking in every inch like he can’t believe you’re finally here. “took you long enough,” he mutters, voice rough, barely restrained.
before you even get a word out, he closes the distance, hands grabbing onto you and pulling you close, his lips crashing into yours, all impatience and need. his hands roam down to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes, and with one swift, impulsive motion, he grabs hold and tears it off, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room.
“toji!” you huff, exasperated at yet another ruined outfit, but he just chuckles, his smirk widening as he leans in, voice a low, teasing murmur. “shouldn’t have worn anything, then,” he mutters, his hands moving over your bare skin, possessive and rough.
he presses you back against the wall, his body pinning you there, heat radiating off him as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering. he lips you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and you feel the thick, hard length of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch.
you’re already soaked, your arousal slick between your thighs, and he wastes no time, lining himself up. in one powerful thrust, he pushes into you, filling you completely, and a low, rough groan slips from his lips as he feels you stretch around him. his cock is thick, stretching you just enough to leave you gasping, clutching onto him as he bottoms out.
the wall behind you creaks with every thrust as he sets a relentless pace, his cock sliding in and out of you, each movement making you slicker, the sound of your bodies joining filling the room. his hand slides up to your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you focused on him, grounding you as he takes you harder. the way he fills you has your walls fluttering around him, each thrust hitting deep, brushing spots that leave you gasping and clinging to him.
“one day…” he growls against your neck, voice rough and strained, his fingers tightening slightly around your throat, making you gasp. “that’s all i could last. one. damn. day.”
he thrusts harder, each movement more intense, your arousal coating him, easing his rough pace, his cock thick and heavy inside you. each time he pulls back and thrusts in again, you feel yourself tighten around him, your walls clenching with each push. “you feel so good… so tight around me. you’re gonna remember this every time you tease me, every single time.”
his breathing becomes uneven, his grip on your throat and waist tightening as he pulls you close, thrusting deep until he’s fully seated within you, pushing against your most sensitive spot. with one final, thrust, he pauses, buried as far as he can go, and you feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your most sensitive spot, making an indent as he holds you there.
he shudders, his hold on you tightening, and a deep groan slips from his lips as he finally lets go, his release spilling into you in waves. his cock twitches, pulsing with each spasm, savoring every second of how tightly you’re wrapped around him, his body tense, completely overwhelmed.
as he catches his breath, his hand slowly eases off your throat, and he pauses, his gaze softening as he notices the faint mark his fingers left. without a word, he leans in, pressing gentle, lingering kisses over the sensitive skin, his lips warm and tender against where he’d held you. his smirk is gone, replaced by a quieter satisfaction as he looks at you, voice low and soft. “next time…” he murmurs, “don’t make me wait. one day was already too damn long.”
✧ GETO
geto kept a calendar next to his bed, marking off each day of the month, like keeping count would somehow make it easier to get through. day 19 stared back at him, almost mocking him—no matter how many days he marked off, the restraint wasn’t getting any easier.
tonight, as you settled into his lap to watch a movie, pressing your weight into him, he could feel every shift of your hips and smell that soft, intoxicating scent that told him you were ovulating. his jaw tightened, fingers digging into the cushion as he tried to keep his breathing steady, fighting to hold his composure.
and then you whispered, low and pleading, “screw no nut november, suguru… i want you.”
his hand flexed against your hip, and he closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to keep his calm. “it’s almost over,” he murmured, voice calm, though his eyes betrayed the struggle. “just a few more days. you can be patient.”
“please…” you murmured, voice breathless, pressing closer, testing every last bit of his resolve.
he shook his head, voice strained. “if you need it that badly… then get yourself off.” he positioned you over his lap, hands guiding you to straddle his thigh, pressing you down so you could feel the firm, sculpted muscle beneath you. his thigh flexed, the intricate snake tattoo winding down his leg, every line a reminder of him. but he stayed still, just watching, his gaze dark, waiting.
you pouted, shifting against him, letting out a frustrated huff. “i want you, not just this,” you murmured, grinding down against his thigh, your hands braced on his shoulders, fingers digging into him, trying to break through that last bit of control.
his breathing grew heavier, his gaze flickering down to where you moved against him, your arousal slick against his thigh. each roll of your hips tested his patience, the feeling of your heat soaking through his clothes, your soft whimpers as you tried to get closer.
“just a little longer,” he murmured, though his voice had a rough edge to it, the words catching in his throat. but the way you looked up at him, eyes pleading, breath coming faster, was enough to start cracking his resolve.
finally, he let his hands grip your hips firmly, holding you in place as he lifted you slightly, positioning you so he could slide beneath you. with a smirk, he shifted you, guiding you so you were hovering above his face, your legs on either side of him. “if you’re going to make me lose control,” he murmured, voice dark with intent, “then i’m going to make it worth it.”
before you could respond, he pulled you down, his mouth meeting your center, his tongue pressing flat against your clit, sending a shiver up your spine. he lingered there, savoring the taste of you, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, making you gasp. his hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you exactly where he wanted, guiding you to move just enough to deepen the contact, his tongue slipping lower, teasing your entrance before sliding inside, his movements slow, unhurried, as he tasted you.
you couldn’t help but moan, your fingers tangling in his long hair, gripping tightly as he worked, his mouth and tongue relentless, flicking, tasting, his lips closing around your clit as he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure through you. your walls pulsed around his tongue, each sensation building, making your grip on him tighten as you struggled to keep your balance, overwhelmed by the way he devoured you.
unable to resist, you shifted, turning so you could settle over his face fully, leaning down to free his cock, feeling the heavy, aching heat of him against your palm. he groaned into you as you wrapped your fingers around him, his cock flushed and hard, a deep shade that matched the warmth on his cheeks.
leaning forward, you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling over the tip, tasting the salty hint of his arousal. his hips twitched beneath you, a low, muffled sound escaping him as his grip on your hips tightened, but his focus never wavered, his mouth and tongue working against you, your bodies moving in sync as you both gave in to each other completely.
✧ GOJO
it only took six days for gojo to break, though he’d never admit that it was because of you. every little brush of your fingers, every flirtatious smile—it was killing him. now, with him just back from a mission, that need has become almost painful, and he can’t hide it.
“you’re really going to make me keep waiting?” he asks, his voice low and playful but with a hint of something darker as he watches you, gaze intense.
you give him a teasing smile, taking a step back. “come on, satoru… it’s only been six days.”
he laughs, stepping closer, his smile turning into a smirk. “six days too many,” he murmurs, reaching out, his fingers brushing along your waist, pulling you in close. his lips hover near your ear, his voice a soft murmur. “haven’t you missed me?”
you feel a shiver run through you, but you keep your composure, smiling up at him. “maybe,” you tease, “but it is no nut november, you know..”
he chuckles, his grip on your waist tightening as he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck. “hmm, don't really care for it,” he murmurs, his mouth hot against your skin, his hands roaming over your body as he pulls you closer.
you try to keep up the teasing, but his touch is making it impossible to think. “satoru…” you whisper, your voice barely steady.
“yeah?” he breathes, his gaze darkening as he studies you, his blue eyes filled with that familiar glint. “why don’t you just say it? you want me just as much as i want you, don’t you?”
before you can answer, his lips crash against yours, all teasing replaced by a fierce urgency as he pulls you against him, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair, keeping you close. his kiss is deep, almost dizzying, as his fingers trail down, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it off with a skillful ease.
he sits back onto the edge of the bed, taking you with him as he pulls you into his lap, his hands gripping your waist, guiding you to straddle him. he looks up, his eyes filled with that playful, almost wicked spark. “if we’re breaking rules,” he murmurs, “we might as well do it right.”
he presses you down, letting you feel him hard against you, and a soft, satisfied groan escapes his lips as he watches your reaction. his hands slide over your thighs, fingers pressing firmly into your skin as he tilts his head back, smirking. “see? this feels a lot better than no nut november, don’t you think?”
you roll your hips against him, feeling him throb beneath you, and his breath catches, his grip tightening as he lets out a low, ragged laugh. “you’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice dropping.
without warning, he shifts, pulling you down so he can lean in, his mouth finding your neck as he kisses down, his tongue flicking against your pulse. his hands roam over your body, tugging off the last of your clothes, his mouth following every inch of bare skin he reveals. finally, he leans back, hands on your hips as he positions you over him, his gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you down onto him.
he looks down, smirking as he brushes his finger along your entrance, teasing you. “did she miss me?” he murmurs, his voice thick, and before you can respond, he pushes in, letting out a deep groan as he fills you completely. “yeah, sweetness,” he breathes, his voice low and rough, “i’ve missed you too.”
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DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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inmaki · 1 year ago
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number one sorcerer (and virgin) .
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synopsis: req! in which your boyfriend — notorious for boasting about how good he is in bed — turns out to be all bark and no bite (until you give him some guidance, at least).
pairing: virgin!switch!gojo x f!reader
wc: est. 6k?
incl: unprotected sex, pull-out method, lots of dirty talk, a bit of teaching gojo, petnames, manhandling, size kink, clit play, praise kink, edging (himself), teasing, mocking, fingering, oral (f + slight m), cum swallowing
a/n: ty for awakening smtn in me anon it was nice to be writing a full fic again!! hope im not too rusty,, this is straight up filth tho so mdni
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back when satoru and you were just friends, he liked to make it very clear to your circle of peers that he wasn’t just good at sex.
no, according to himself, he was some kind of sex god — to match his power level in sorcery, of course.
and obviously, who was anyone to think otherwise? the great gojo satoru; such a cocky and confident demeanour paired with angelic white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a tall sculpted body that other guys at the gym double-take at. him..? a virgin? hah! good one.
satoru believes that he’s done a rather spectacular job at keeping his reputation sky-high.
the only problem was.. now he had a girlfriend with high expectations to please.
since the day you’d gotten together — going multiple months strong — satoru was starting to sweat more and more knowing that his rather crucial fabrication was bound to be brought up sooner or later. you had your needs just like him, and satoru wouldn’t blame you if you were a bit worried about why he hasn’t initiated anything; y’know, since he was supposedly eros in human form and all that.
little did you know your boyfriend felt equally frustrated. for slightly different reasons.
“bro, it’d be hot if she was a virgin, but me?!” flopping back against the armrest, gojo lets out a theatrical groan while his best friend — the only other person to know of his dark secret — snickers against the cushions nearby.
“everything’d be fine if you didn’t pretend to be some incubus that makes girls cum with a snap of his finger,” geto quips unhelpfully.
satoru lifts his head, sneering when he realizes that the raven-haired man was much too busy scrolling on his phone to notice how he’s resting a pair of dirty shoes on his white couch. “that would be pretty cool..” when he only receives a disgusted glance, he huffs, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable as his thoughts wander further. “how’m i even gonna tell her? what if she doesn’t trust me anymore?”
at last, suguru looks up with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “you know y/n isn’t like that. just.. wait for her to initiate something and go with the flow,” he advises, lips curling into a knowing smirk.
“you find a way to be good at everything, anyway, toru. she’ll be begging for you in no time.”
as usual, geto knows him too well, because those last few words have gojo shooting up from the sofa with a grin. “ya think so?”
“hell yeah, man.” the two idiots end the discussion by dapping each other up, a confident gleam in both of their eyes.
only a couple days later, satoru discovers that going with the flow isn’t as easy as suguru advised. with your plush lips sucking his bottom one through occasional moans, along with a delicate pair of nails scratching perfectly at his undercut, he already felt himself getting breathless and aroused like a teenager.
perhaps you’ve put him under a spell; how is it that he lasts through prolonged battles while barely breaking a sweat, but having your cute hand move to rub up on his abs and pecs send his nerves into overdrive? it wasn’t like making out wasn’t uncommon for the two of you, this time it just felt so passionate with the way your hips moved to straddle his, tongue practically begging for entrance while the movie on screen was left long forgotten.
gojo can’t help but groan as your muscle explores his mouth, core ever so smoothly grinding on his bulge and igniting heat through his entire body. even as you pull away to take a breath, his grip on your waist remains stable as if you’d disappear at any moment— growing even tighter with the way you bore into his eyes hungrily. “satoru..”
your unusually seductive voice makes him audibly gulp. “y— yeah?” he whispers, glancing to the hand thats now moving down over his grey sweats. shit, this was too much, was he dreaming? he should do something, pinch himself before—
“touch me, please?” as you voice your request, you squeeze his dick so nicely that satoru swears he nearly explodes in his boxers.
he swallows, words getting lost in his throat. “i— i uh...”
for the first time in history, satoru has been rendered speechless, and you visibly panic at this realization. yet when you try to carefully maneuver off his lap and give him space, the clutch on your waist intensifies. “what— are you okay? what’s wrong?” you murmur, brows creasing with concern.
though you never brought it up, satoru’s worry about your confusion was correct; you’d been expecting him to jump your bones a week into your relationship, but seeing how he never forced anything and remained respectful was cute.. at first. after a month of rejection and being pushed away whenever things got too heated, insecurities were bound to start brewing inside you.
he better have a damn good explanation.
“i’m fine,” he reassures, “it’s just— i should probably tell you something..” refusing to meet your eyes, the sorcerer resorts to drawing shapes against the skin under your t-shirt. in other situations, this would feel soothing, relaxing even — but currently, his lacking and lingering touch made you want to rip the hairs off your head.
all you wanted was to finally get a taste of your steaming hot boyfriend. what could he possibly need to say right now? you ponder, hasn’t he been dying to finally show off how amazing he is in bed?
“yes..?”
“it’s actually a funny story, ahaha..” he stalls, chuckling nervously as you turn his jaw to make eye contact. a feeling of impatience and neediness pulls through you, but you contain yourself with a deep breath.
“spit it out, satoru.”
there was no going back now, right? “so.. i’ve uh— i’ve never actually done this before.”
you blink.
“you’re a virgin?”
it was difficult to believe your own words; it sounded wrong no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around it. satoru being inexperienced? the satoru with a rock hard 6 pack? the satoru with biceps that bulge out of his shirts and a face sharp enough to be sculpted by aphrodite herself? your satoru?
it sounded ridiculous, but the ugly pout rising across his lips tells you that it wasn’t a prank after all. “hey, don’t call me that, now it sounds way worse!”
a sigh escapes your lips, arms folded across your chest. “so all those never have i ever games and stories you told about one night stands were— mph!" before you know it, a large hand is covering your mouth.
“listen, how about we talk about this after having some fun?” a surprisingly determined gleam shines in your boyfriend’s icy blue eyes, making your thighs clench together in excitement.
who were you to say no to that?
next thing you know, pillows support your back as a shirtless satoru lies directly in front of your clothed crotch, hot breath making you wiggle around impatiently.
“jus— just take it off me, toru. so damn slow—“
“baby,” he scolds, looking genuinely upset, “this is my first time seeing a pussy in real life and you’re ruining it with your lack of patience.”
you can only roll your eyes and groan, head flopping back against the cushions in boredom. there was no way to predict how satoru’s first time would go, but you never expected it’d be this agonizing on your end — nor that he’d be so bossy.
though luckily, after another deep breath, your panties are gently tugged down your legs, and satoru can only inhale as he watches your poor hole clench around nothing. it only made sense that after all that dry humping and making out that your neediness increased, and it didn’t help that you could clearly see the way satoru was not only rock hard, but much bigger than average through his grey sweats.
“ooh.. oh shit..” like the invasive pervert he is, satoru moves even closer to the point where your thighs rest on his muscular shoulders before taking two fingers to spread your lips apart. this way, he has a clear view of the place that needs him most, and it makes a furious blush blossom on your cheeks.
“s— satoru.. what are you doing?” now you felt like the virgin, desperately attempting to shut your legs with no avail. damn this big idiot and his strength.
suddenly, his piercing eyes snap up to you, a feral look in his gaze. “shit, how’m i gonna fit in this little hole?”
you can’t deny the way his dirty words does something to you — not that you’d ever admit it. “that’s why you gotta prep me, toru. y’know..” you gulp, “fingering, or like.. eating me out.”
in response, you get a cheshire grin. “sounds fun. show me how you do it, sweets.”
“w-what?”
satoru leans back, attemping to hold in a mischievous smile. “how else am i gonna learn?”
even masturbating alone makes you flush in slight embarassment, so doing it in front of someone else — your cheeky, shamleess boyfriend no less — had you drowning in nerves. the bigger problem was that his words held a strong point; you’re supposed to be teaching him for his first time and ensuring it’s as enjoyable as possible.
these reminders make you mumble out a gentle fine, breath stuttering as you spread your legs further for the man in front of you.
satoru is now resting his weight on the palms of his hands, looking laid back and relaxed, but evidently still focused at the way your fingers move to unclasp your bra with skill. “damn..” as your tits are freed, he finds himself needing to adjust his sweatpants and nearly letting out a pathetic noise you would definitely tease him for.
you gulp, trying to ignore his blatant gawking. “it’s good to.. y’know, tease a bit before getting straight to it. makes it feel better — for me, at least,” you explain while massaging your chest, hiding surprise at the way he sternly nods in understanding.
now that you think about it, something tells you this is the most focused satoru has ever been in a learning environment.
after a bit more pinching and fondling, your hands slide down to your stomach and thighs, trying to get your breathing to relax. having gojo watch you do something so private was.. surreal, but you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet before, if that meant anything.
once you finally move down to your most intimate part, satoru takes a deep breath. he watches as you use your fingers to reveal a small bundle of nerves, pulsing and desperate for attention. “this is the clit, toru. s’very important.”
his eyes light up. “oh, i know that one!” he announces proudly, “i remember suguru saying i have to.. uh, worship it or something.”
you snicker at the thought of geto giving out sex pointers. “mhm, sometimes penetration isn’t enough, so you need to give it attention or i can’t really finish.”
gently, you start massaging the bud in circles, humming at the feeling of finally getting some type of relief. you move down to your hole to collect some of your wetness before bringing it back up, letting out a moan in satisfaction.
the way satoru licks his lips as you finally plunge a finger into your wetness has you shivering, but you remind yourself that for now, this was simply a demonstration and that you’d get a taste of him later.
after adding another, you attempt to reach your sweet spot by curling upwards, but it seems that even your hopelessly inexperienced boyfriend could tell that it was getting nowhere.
“aw,” he pouts teasingly, “lil’ fingers can’t reach anything, huh?”
“shut— shut up, satoru.”
before you know it, he’s moved onto his stomach again, face to face with your pussy and gripping your now soaked fingers. “you use these pathetic things when y’masturbate, huh? imagining my dick while having such tiny fingers up your cunt? kinda offended, babe..”
you feel your tummy flip, where did he learn to talk like that?
“do you have to be so vulg—“ you’re cut off by a choking gasp as a warm, wet muscle licks a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit.
“thanks for the lesson. ‘think i got it from here,” is all satoru says before he’s diving in, slurping up as much of your essence as possible before latching his plush lips right onto your poor little clit.
you can’t help but wiggle around at the jump in stimulation, but that only lasts about five seconds before a muscular arm presses you firmly against the mattress, rendering you trapped and unable to escape to his ministrations.
“hey, slow down!” your words are coincidentally yelped out right as he wiggles a much bigger finger into you. it explores your insides eagerly, caressing and feeling up what satoru believes will be his new favourite place.
“wow..” sluuurp, “so warm n’ soft in here..” he happily mumbles against your pussy. the vibrations of his now deeper voice shoot through you like electricity, eliciting another choked whine from your throat.
it felt like he was just toying with you; looking way too content drinking up everything you offered, fluid rushing down his chin and nose pushed firmly against your pelvis to inhale your scent.
suddenly, he’s jabbing his fingertip right into that pocket of sunshine that makes your eyes roll back, a loud whimper leaving your throat before you could stop it. “satoru, right there!” he swiftly seperates from your clit just to mumble out a here? in confirmation, prodding your sweet spot over and over in record breaking speed.
when you nod, he grins smugly, now adding another finger to stretch you further. “mmmph, this is pretty fun. could lie here all night.”
luckily, you barely process his words, much too busy enjoying the best finger-fuck of your life — and this was only his first time, you remember, what will the bastard do to you once he’s got some practice in?
a shaking hand tumbles into his snowy locks, attempting to pull him back weakly. “wait, m’gonna cum, toru—“
gojo growls almost animalistically, tugging your hand back onto the sheets. “then fuckin’ do it,” he demands. “c’mon, i’ve earned it, right?” then, he sucks even harder, fingers slamming and curling and making the loudest squelch you’ve ever heard.
“see?” he continues, “lil’ cunt wants to cum so bad for me. knows who 'er owner is already.” his filthy words definitely take part in the way your orgasm hits like a train, body shaking and toes curling as you let the feeling of bliss take over you. you flinch at how swiftly his tongue licks up everything you give him, the fingers in his hair tugging harder in overstimulation.
“toruuuuu..”
he simpers, tasting his cum-covered lips. “yeeees?”
“this— this is your first time, i should be making you feel good.”
slowly but surely, your eyes reopen, meeting your boyfriend’s relaxed gaze as he rubs your thigh affectionately. “dunno what you’re talking about, i felt pretty good just now.” when you only pout further, he snickers, pushing some of his bangs back smoothly. “c’mon, there’s lots of time for you to get me off later. m’ too excited for the main event..”
at last, he reaches for his sweatpants, more than excited to tug them down and finally give his aching cock some freedom. satoru doesn’t think he’s ever had a more painful boner in his life, but it was all worth seeing you release all over his tongue and fingers.
right as he finishes untying the knot, pale fingers drifting up to the waistband, you’re smacking him away to make room for your own hands. he watches with an open mouth as you pull his boxers down along with his pants, leaky, hard cock springing free and nearly hitting you in the face.
shit, of course his dick is perfect too. with a bit of white hair at the base, bulging veins adorned the entirety of his massive length, and the tip — shit, the tip was even bigger than the rest, mushroom shaped and angry red. his balls looked equally agitated and full — the epitome of breeder balls, and you gulped at the thought of him filling you up with everything they had.
now his question from earlier made sense, and he seems to be enjoying the realization on your face from his spot kneeling on the bed. “like what’cha see?” he coos, one big hand lowering to relieve the aching in his balls.
“toru, i don’t know if you’ll even fit. why— why do you have to be so big?” it’s annoying, you want to say — but the white-haired man has already laid back and manhandled you onto his chiseled stomach, a yelp escaping you at his suddenness.
he’s smiling so hard at your little dilemma that it’s almost sick, hands resting behind his head cockily. “tell me more while you ride me, baby.”
after processing that all you’ve been doing is feeding his size kink and inflating his already massive ego, you frown. “i’m serious, toru!”
“what!? i’m serious too!” the man defends with fake innocence, blue eyes shining in glee. “you’re the expert here, remember? ‘supposed to be teaching me how it’s done.”
all you do is grumble whilst moving down to sit between the sorcerer’s thighs, lightly prepping him with your fist and a dribble of spit from your mouth that has the white-haired male biting his lip. “fuck..” satoru can’t recall how many times he’s masturbated to the mental image of this exact moment, but now that it was finally happening, he promised himself to savor it as much as possible.
when you move to finally straddle him, hole hovering just above his length, he begins bucking his hips up desperately. “hurryyy…”
“are you in heat or something?” you snort, giving him a dirty glare as if you weren’t about to let him inside you.
“for you? yeah.” satoru offers you a cheesy wink and grin that dissipates the second your warmth encloses his aching tip. his hands slowly move up to grip your waist, jaw clenching in an attempt to not slam you down to his balls right then.
“ngh… fuuuck, baby,” he groans as you ever so carefully move down another inch. “jesus.. you’re sooo damn tight. dunno’ how you’re even taking me..”
you squeeze your eyes shut in attempt to bare the discomfort for him, a slight crease growing between your brows. “satoru, fuck— hurts..” he immediately reopens his eyes in worry, searching for a way to take your pain away.
yes, he could already tell that he enjoyed being meaner with you in bed — but it’s never fun if you don’t feel good as well. though he luckily recalls your lesson from earlier, moving a soft thumb down to massage your clit in tight circles.
when you jolt and nearly faceplant into his neck, he only grins proudly, now using one veiny hand to help push you further onto him. “theeere we go.. aw, feel better?”
“mhm, feels full..” you mumble back, looking down to see that you — unbelievably — still had a couple inches to go.
satoru feels like he’s about to burst on the other hand, thriving in pure ecstasy at the feeling of your walls massaging him just perfectly. he can’t help but thrust up and force his last inches inside you, an echoing smack! of skin against skin singing through the room and eliciting a startled yelp from your throat.
“toru!” despite your scolding, you can’t deny the perfection in which his tip kissed your g-spot effortlessly. his hands felt ever so soothing, comfortingly running up and down as you sat impaled on his cock, wiggling around to get comfortable and ruining him in the process.
just as you start to adjust, you feel yourself being lifted up. “m’ sorry sweets..” gojo suddenly voices, “i can’t..”
“huh? what do you m—ah!” you’re flipped onto your back before you know it, knees resting on the shoulders of your boyfriend who has a gleam in his pupils that you’ve quite frankly never seen before; he looked feral.
satoru carefully pulls out until only his tip is encased in your warmth, and everything is calm for a moment. you both take a deep breath, and he smiles down at your already fucked-out face with pride. “satoru—“
then he’s pushing back in with all the strength his massive hips can produce, and you think if it weren’t for his hands wrapped around your thighs, you would’ve got pushed off the bed entirely. you unintentionally let out the loudest sound of the night, and this sets him off.
now he was getting brutal, bullying your cunt with hit after hit against the spot that has drool dripping down your cheek and eyes crossing. you can’t even stop the pathetic noises and symphonies of right there! that leave your lips, no matter how hot your cheeks flush in embarrassment. it felt as though every time his dick jabbed back in he was right up in your tummy, veins pulsing and ensuring your pussy is molded to the perfect sleeve for him.
“toru, shit— nghh, faster, please! feels s’good!”
“nghh, toru, faster! ahaha..” he mocks you — of course he does, but picks up the pace nonetheless — now holding your lower body up so that your knees dangle higher over his shoulders and each stroke is angled exactly where you want him. “so cute when you’re gettin’ stuffed full, baby.”
he leers as you send him the harshest expression you can manage, reaching down for your clit and giggling as you start squirming in an attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure. this bastard is having way too much fun, you realize, moans being forced out of you almost tauntingly.
tonight you discover that satoru’s way of fucking is rather animalistic, frantic, thrilling, and with the sole purpose of making you both feel as good as possible. if you want him to go slow or make love to you, you’d probably have to ask beforehand — or perhaps tie him up so you could have your fun in peace.
if your insides weren’t being rearranged, you’d grin at the thought of your boyfriend restrained and at your mercy. another night, you promise yourself.
“tightest pussy ever f’my first time baby.. haah.. can’t believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.” for once, something praising comes out of his big mouth, breathes getting cut short every time you involuntarily squeeze him harder. he swears there’s no better feeling then what you were giving him right now, not even singlehandedly resurrecting himself using the reversed curse technique.
and while no injuries have ever left a scar on gojo satoru, he decides that the claw marks you’re ruthlessly digging into his back will stay as long as his body allows — why should he hide how good he’s made you feel despite being a virgin an hour prior?
maybe if he’s in the mood to brag, he’ll show them to suguru later.
“feels good toru, fuckin’ me so good,” you feel the way his whole body reacts to your praises, a deep growl melting from his lips as the sounds of skin slapping increasingly grows in volume.
“babyyy,” he pants, legs being held higher while he digs deeper into your guts, “m’gonna cum.. need you to cum with me.“ the twitching of his length inside you gave away the fact that gojo has practically been on the edge ever since he pushed into you — and while he knows it’s completely normal to cum prematurely on your first time, when has he ever not gone above expectations?
in a split second you’re flipped onto your hands and knees, veiny hands pushing you into a deep arch while your boyfriend gives his body a moment to relax, pinching his base (a rather perverted method he’s learned by edging himself while masturbating) between his thumb and pointer.
when you needily wiggle your hips in an attempt to find his cock again, he grins boyishly. “lookin’ for this?” he sings the words right before plunging his entire length back into you, abusing your g-spot while a lanky finger impressively finds the bud between your legs right away (a skill that most ‘experienced’ men you’ve previously been with fail to achieve), circling and pinching in a frantic attempt to make your orgasms arrive in sync.
“fucking hell.." you whine, the new angle making his tip bump against spots that have never been rubbed before. “can feel you so deep..”
“oh yeah?” his bicep pulls you up so your head rests on his broad shoulder, now victim to the filth being whispered directly into your ear. “m’ i doing good? fuckin’ this lil’ pussy nice and deep like she needs?”
when you nod, he beams like a maniac, seemingly encouraged to pound you even harder as his hips pick up the pace. “damn, ‘think i’m already a pro at this, huh?”
for the sake of your sanity, you ignore his bragging. “toru, don’t stop. i’m— i’m gonna..”
“you’re gonnaaa?” he derides, kissing the corner of your lip sweetly. “tell me, baby.”
“gonna cum for you, please.” satoru almost decides to fill you up at those words, but his self control is just a bit stronger. he feels the way your cunt is pulsing, body practically shaking as you get closer and closer to release, and he’s determined to help you reach it.
his thrusts get a bit sloppier, and you’re too busy basking in your own pleasure to see the eye-candy that is gojo biting his swollen lips, sweat dripping down his temples all the way to his solid abs, snowy bangs a tad bit moist against his forehead. he looked like the definition of temptation; straight out of a wet dream with stamina that seemingly never declined.
“me too, baby. c’mon, cum on this dick. s’all yours to ruin.”
you moan as you allow yourself to let go, toes curling and nails digging into his toned forearms ecstatically. “thaaat’s it, good girl.. ahah.. such a good girl f’me.” he talks you through it as if he’s done so a million times, both of you looking down to watch your release coat his dick and the crumpled sheets below.
at his praise, you squeeze him just a bit tighter, making his lips curl up in interest. “my girl likes being praised, huh? yeah.. doing so good makin’ a mess on me..”
he pulls out, carefully lowering you to the mattress before tugging on his dick in hopes of reaching his own peak. satoru forces himself to open his eyes just enough to admire the view of you fucked out below him, body shaking slightly as you recover from the intense waves of your orgasm.
“y/n,” he abruptly whines, patting your shoulder with a subtle urgency in his voice.
“..mhmm?”
“where can i cum? quick baby— please, i’ve been holding this for way too long—“ this has your body moving, eyes popping open as you swiftly bend down so your mouth hovers directly in front of him.
you replace his fist with yours as soft lips move to suckle harsly on his leaking tip, and now it’s gojo who has his eyes rolling back; whimpers flying out of his throat every time your tongue massages the delicate underside, sending visible shocks through his body. “fuck!” he can only curse and run his fingers through your hair for support while you pump him dry. “just like that, good.. haah.. good fuckin’ girl, shiiit.”
you’ve never seen your boyfriend — the strongest — look so pathetic and desperate, but it only spurs you on further, enjoying the way he continues to blabber about how pretty you are and how he’s gonna fill your mouth like he would your pussy. in response, you greedily hum around him, licking through his slit as if you were pleading the little hole to give you what you deserved.
and only moments later, satoru’s words become reality; though he attempts to keep revelling in the feeling of your warm lips and hands, his body stills in place instinctively, one last warning tumbling out of his throat as your mouth is flooded with rope after rope of bitterly sweet fluid.
it seems like your accusations about his breeder balls were correct, because once it starts it seemingly never ends; cum now overflowing from the corners of your lips as you struggle to swallow frequently enough to not choke on how much he deposits.
meanwhile, gojo feels like he is quite literally ascending, everything becoming unimportant next to you and the feeling of pleasure being forced through him like an overwhelming earthquake, pulse after pulse as you suck him for all he’s worth.
“thas’ right.. take every damn drop, baby.” when satoru looks down and earns a glimpse of the white fluid trickling down your chin, his dick twitches in your mouth. “god, you’re so sexy..”
once he was done, you both flop onto the bed in exhaustion, and while the vulnerable moment has utmost potential to become something cute and memorable, a certain blue-eyed bastard decides to open his mouth once again.
“what’re you huffin’ and puffin’ for?” he sasses, shamelessly eyeing the way your tits rose and fell with every breath you took. “all you did was lie there while i had a full body workout!”
you take a very deep breath. “i just let you put your dick inside me. shut the fuck up.”
at your reminder of what’d just occurred, he grins like an idiot. “you’re right, thank you.” they’re soft, but he ensures his words are as audible and genuine as he can make them.
satoru isn’t exactly the best with words, but he knows damn well that — despite all the bullshit he'd spouted at those parties — you’re the only person he wanted to have his first time with, and the fact that you allowed his wish to become reality is something he’ll forever be grateful for.
“i love you..” you soften. “even if you’re a pillow princess.” you stiffen again.
nothing could stay lovey-dovey with him for too long.
a fake cry is pulled from his lips as you rudely smack his shoulder. “i tried to ride you but you flipped me over after ten seconds!”
“it’s not my fault you're as slow as a fuckin' snail!”
somehow, you both make it to the washroom despite all the banter. just as you bend over in hopes of starting the shower up, a mean spank is delivered to your ass.
when you turn to meet the culprit, he only narrows his eyes at you playfully. “round two, m’lady?” it’s almost like his voice lowers on purpose, dirty words rumbling in his throat, knowing what it did to your body.
you do your best to send him a disappointed glance anyway. “day one of not being a virgin and you’re already the horniest man i know.”
after following you inside, his fluffy hair flattens from the steamy water before nudging you back, encasing you between him and the solid wall.
“i might be willing to overlook the fact that you know other horny men if you agree to some very loving, extremely intimate making out,” he requests with a smirk, sleek nose poking yours in a much gentler way than expected.
you still send him a distrusting raise of your brow. “only making out, huh?”
the dirty smirk he sends you is all you need to know, along with his hardened dick pressing against your thigh as he moves in to kiss you.
what have you gotten yourself into?
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mlist! gojo showing off his back scratches! <- if you enjoy silly virgin gojo pls lmk in the reblogs, comments, or asks <3
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
tags: @gojoallmine @allofffmypeaches @haitaniholic @pandoraium
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