#I spent days nonstop drawing

[hana-mural]

silly trio…

[dzozef]

i can not even begin to explain how stressful the last two days have been at work

[lion-buddy]

I just found one of the first bunny undertale crossover au comics I ever made and i genuinely cant believe I forgot abt it.

[reiderwriter]

☎️ Don't Call Me ☎️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating, you find accidental comfort in your coworker. With your phone ringing nonstop, you're willing to do whatever it takes to start fresh.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, bug mentions (cockroaches), cheating, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight spanking, mentions of masturbation. Dom! Spencer.

A/N: Haha... hi guys... been a while 😚 Please enjoy the fic I dreamed up over a month ago now, and was finally able to conjure up!

Masterlist

If you were to be asked how you assumed a five-year-long relationship would end, you'd likely say something like irreparable differences. Maybe a difference in lifestyle, growing out of love, or even different plans for the future. Unfortunately, the irreparable difference your boyfriend had chosen at 10 pm on a Thursday evening was being balls deep in an irreparably different woman. 

You supposed you should've seen the signs the relationship was drawing to a close and likely you did, but with your job itself being a life or death situation almost daily, you really didn't have much time to worry about the fact that your boyfriend was sowing his oats in other fields. Based on the look of the woman spread across your bed, the oats weren't that great for her either. 

Your reaction had been somewhat delayed, but curiously not as much as hers. She'd been wonderfully blasé about the man writhing on top of her before you started screaming and throwing things, and even now you were armed with a vase of flowers (dead - you'd bought them yourself before the case you'd been on for the last two weeks) she still looked slightly bored. But at least her legs were together now, and not gynaecologist level apart. 

Your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - managed to regain an ounce of dignity with a scrap of clothing, and did his best to shepard you out of the crime scene as you regained the ability to hold coherent thoughts that weren't about strangling him with his own tie. 

“Listen to me, please just for five minutes-” 

“Listen? I was just listening! To you moaning into that woman's shoulders with your eyes rolled back in your head!” 

It was as if in the last few minutes all the love you'd had for this man, all five years of relationship and comfort, and nights spent together had melted away in an instant. The rage dissipated, and you were surprisingly calm again, though that worried you, too. Surely you should be crying, or at the very least upset. You should be feeling some kind of emotion that wasn't a vague disgust at the man in front of you in full pooh bear mode, trying to tug down the hem of his shirt to cover the crown jewels. 

“It didn't mean anything. She doesn't mean anything. She's just - You're gone so long on cases, and I just-” 

“So you're saying it's my fault you're cheating on me?” 

“Yes! No, wait, no, no, no, no-” 

“No, heard loud and clear, I'll try not to save lives in the future, I'm sure the BAU will understand I should be on my back 24 hours a day instead, taking all four inches you have to donate to my worthy cause.” 

“Y/N, don't be like that,” he said, exasperated. Whatever he had to be exasperated about, you had no idea. Maybe blue balls. 

“Like what?”

“Like a bitch!” 

The room went still with silence as you let him sit with the words he'd just spoken, willing him to snap back quickly so you could keep even just a shred of respect for him. 

No such apology came. 

“I'm leaving now. I expect your things packed and out of here by 12 pm tomorrow, including your thing in the bedroom. Don't bother cleaning the sheets. Just burn them. Lock the door and post the keys through the letterbox when you're done.” 

“Y/N, I told you it's not like that, I still love you, come on-” 

“Well I don't love you. And please go put some fucking pants on.” 

You stepped back over the threshold of your apartment - the lovely, nice apartment you'd been living in for the last eight years, your nice safe space - and you shuddered. 

The question wasn't exactly what next, but more like where next. What next was sending a group text in your ex-boyfriends family chat telling them what you'd walked in on, and then leaving the chat before you could get any response. The where would be a harder sell. 

From this part of the city, it'd take 2 hours to get to Penelope’s apartment, especially at this time of night without a car. Emily's apartment was similarly far. Going through a list of your coworkers again, you mentally crossed off Tara, who'd been injured on your last case and was resting at her girlfriend's apartment, Luke, who despite the promised comfort of a cute dog, you were absolutely sure didn't have a spare bed, and all members of the team with spouses and/or children. Which left just Spencer and Rossi. 

Needless to say, you found your way to Spencer's apartment in only 20 minutes, though you were sure you had disassociated the entire thing. 

Knocking on the door, you felt a little bit awkward, but not awkward enough to leave and find a hotel at nearly 11 pm. Your last case hadn't been a pleasant one, hotel-wise, and you weren't exactly eager for another check-in.

Spencer opened the door quickly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he found you there  but only for a brief flash before his face brightened up. 

“Y/N? Do we have a case again? I thought Hotch said-” 

“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted, needing to get the words out as quickly as possible before you convinced yourself to walk away. 

Spencer took a moment to take in your words, and you took the opportunity to look at him then. He was fully clothed at least, and you were glad to find that his pajamas looked comfortable and clean. A simple plaid cotton pant with a soft-looking white long sleeved shirt pushed up his arms slightly. He'd taken out his contacts and put on his glasses, and you wondered if you'd caught him mid-book. 

“Please?” you added in a hopeful voice as he still looked at you slightly confused. 

“Oh, of course,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing inside. “Is there something wrong with your apartment?” he asked, taking your go-bag from you without question and guiding you into the main living space of his apartment. 

“Thank you, yeah. Something like that. Shoes off or on?” 

“I have some slippers. You can take them off. What happened?” he said, placing the slippers in front of you and turning back to bolt the door. 

“Invasive species?” You said, trying to sound as nonplussed as possible  despite now feeling incredibly plussed.

“Oh, bugs? Yeah, I've had a cockroach or two in the apartment before. Did you know that the average female cockroach can produce up to 10,000 offspring in a single year?” 

You sat on his couch quietly, trying not to imagine 10,000 cockroaches and failing nearly spectacularly. Unfortunately, the only image that could surpass tiny cockroach babies was of your boyfriend pounding away at another woman. Which was just a brilliant move for your psyche. 

“Spencer, I know I've really intruded here tonight, but do…. Do you wanna drink with me?” You asked, hoping to drown at least a memory or two of the last 24 hours. Hopefully, the cheating one, but you'd take cockroach extermination as well.

A slightly worried look settled on Spencer's face, but he said nothing and nodded, walking to his kitchen, grabbing two beers and meeting you back on his loveseat. 

“Oh you really have beer here!” You exclaimed, thanking him for the beverage before cracking it open and taking a sip. 

“Morgan came over with some to celebrate 6 months out of prison. These are leftovers.” 

“Right… right…” 

The first few sips were so painfully awkward that you thought about returning back to your apartment and just sleeping on your own couch. 

Vaguely, you felt Spencer watching you, taking a sip of his drink for every sip you took of yours. 

“So…” you said, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow again, already questioning whatever was about to come out of your mouth. 

“So?”  he asked. You weren't sure if it was the beer, the look on his face, or the crazy implosion of the last 5 years that had you giggling all of a sudden. You were just glad that when you cracked up, he cracked a smile as well, and a little bit of the tension went away. 

“Why are you really here, YN?” 

You took a deep breath and looked straight forward at the bookshelves Spencer had lovingly filled. Maybe this had taken him half a decade as well, so he'd understand how your life felt a little bit like a wobbly bookshelf at that second. 

“The invasive species I mentioned? It was the woman screwing my boyfriend in my bed. Ex. Ex-boyfriend.” 

You heard the intake of breath from Spencer before he put his can down and started thinking of something to say in reply to that. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh… Y/N, I-” 

A shrill ringing cut him off, and you were almost glad to not be on the receiving end of whatever pitiful words he was about to push on you, until you checked the caller ID and saw your ex's name. 

“Don't pick that up,” Spencer said as you hesitated towards the phone. With a hand over yours, he flipped the phone over, locking eyes with you as he let it ring out. 

“He's just going to try it again.”

“Let him.” 

You nodded, breaking eye contact and sinking back into Spencer's slightly wilted couch cushions. 

“In your bed? Really?” he asked, talking another sup as you took a gulp, letting the beer fizz down your throat before you could answer.

“I told him to expect me tomorrow because of how the case was looking. I guess he wasn't expecting me.” 

“I think that was a given. Unless he was into that. Exhibitionism is one of the most common kinks among adult males, and-” 

“Oh he was not into exposing himself,” you laughed into your drink, propping your head up on your hand and turning to face Spencer more. He shot another questioning glance but didn't push the issue, so you silently explained as well. By pinching your fingers together to the approximate size of your ex-boyfriend's dick. 

“Oh. Well, it's not the size that counts?” He whispered almost ironically as he took another sip, now much closer than before. You'd done your best to distance yourself from your boyfriend even as he'd followed you through your apartment half naked, but you didn't seem to find Spencer's proximity threatening at all. 

Maybe because he wasn't having sex with a random woman in your bed 5 seconds before. 

“You wanna know the worst part?” You said, leaning closer as if to tell him an even bigger secret. “He didn't even know how to use it. I haven't-” 

Another phone call blasted through, and you grabbed your phone and put it behind you. 

“He's really great at interrupting conversation when it’s just getting good,” Spencer laughed, but you were slightly disappointed that he'd leaned back away now. 

“What was it you were saying?” He asked, taking a swig of beer again, can nearing its close. 

“I haven't had an orgasm in almost three years,” you said bluntly, watching the most genuine spit take you’d seen in your life. You pat Spencer's back as he coughed up inhaled beer, bringing your feet up under you into a cosier position. 

“Okay now?” you asked as his breathing returned to normal. 

“No? Three years, Y/N? Really?” 

You shrugged and looked away  almost embarrassed to be meeting his eyes now that your sexual history was the topic of the night. 

“We had sex. He's just… he's just a really lazy lover. It'd be the same stuff every time. Handjob to some clumsy fingers missing my clit, a few pumps and cum on my face. I wasn't exactly initiating seven days a week in the hopes that this time he'd be able to locate it.” 

Spencer was somewhere between horror and trying not to laugh, eyes wide with either alarm or the strain of having to keep it in. 

“It's okay, you can laugh,” you said, but he shook his head politely.

“Y/N, I was in prison and still had more orgasms than you this year.” 

“Hey, I hear prison is a great place to meet new people. Have new experiences.”

Spencer shot you a quickly horrified look as his cheeks flushed with heat. “Y/N, I was not someone's bitch in prison.” 

“Why not? You're pretty enough for it?” 

You'd meant the line to come across as teasing, just as you'd expected the finger now twisted in a lock of his hair, playing with him, to come off as teasing as well. 

But you felt a definite throb between your legs when he looked at you again, doubly so when his eyes darted down to your lips. 

You cleared your throat and tried for a teasing tone once again. 

“So you made someone else your bitch?” you smiled, trying to drag his eyes away from your lips before you did something you'd regret. 

“No. I… I spent a long time in solitary, and there's… there's really not that much to do.” 

“So you did yourself?” 

The tips of his ears were scarlet when you finally decided to back off, tucking the curl of hair behind his ear and letting him cool off. 

“Why didn't you masturbate then?” he asked, pouting slightly still from your interrogation. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your boyfriend couldn't make you cum, but a vibrator probably could. But you still haven't had an orgasm in three years. Why is that?” 

It was your turn to feel the heat, the warmth from the beer finally reaching your head. 

“He didn't want me to.” 

You didn't mean for the words to sound as sad as they did. The fact itself was just incredibly sad. Your boyfriend saw anything vaguely phallic shaped as competition and had encouraged “organic” coupling instead. 

You waited for Spencer to say something else, anything else as you held his gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and him to start talking down to you as if you were simply a victim of the worst sex in the world. 

Instead, he said “so did that other woman look as miserable as you've been for the last three years?” and the spell was broken. 

You laughed so hard, you nearly choked on the beer you'd already finished. This time, it was Spencer's turn to land a hand on your back as you winded yourself with laughter. 

“She looked bored! She looked genuinely bored. I almost thought it was just a lifelike doll, she was that unphased,” you kept giggling between gasps, forcing the words out as you threw your head onto Spencer's shoulder, hand landing on his thigh as you finally calmed down. 

“I'd be horrified if anyone looked bored while in bed with me,” came Spencer's voice, and a little shiver ran down your spine as the rasp of his whisper rang in your ear. 

You looked up from his shoulder and caught his eye immediately. If you wanted to, you could lean up by a centimetre and catch his lips with yours. And you suddenly, very much wanted to do that. 

A final shriek of your phone behind you deterred you for a few seconds, and you were about to work yourself up to scooting a little bit away from Spencer when he leaned over you, grabbed the phone, and hung up on your boyfriend. 

“Do you want to cum, Y/N?” he asked, as quietly as before as his hands traced over you on their return journey to him. He looked down your body, eyes greedily drinking in your breasts, hips, thighs and legs tucked into his side on his couch. 

You didn't know what you were going to respond when your head practically nodded by itself. Enthusiastically. 

He doesn't immediately pull you in for a kiss, and you're worried for a beat that he meant that only as a hypothetical and not an invite. A final cry from your phone has you standing in seconds, completely detached from Spencer, and the nearly embarrassing moment you pouncing him would've been.

“I should probably take it this time,” you explained, turning slightly. 

But Spencer was faster than you, if not more prepared for what was to come. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Spencer tugged you back, pulling you onto his lap. When you were firmly situated - ass over his now evidently firm cock - he grabbed the phone out of your other hand, hung up and put it in his pocket. 

“Spencer, I-I don't think that's a good idea,” you gasped as his hands slowly progressed up to your chest, and his lips dropped to your neck, biting and sucking along whatever flesh was easy for him to access. 

“You need to cum. You deserve to cum, Y/N. I'm just here to help. Use me.” 

You stifle a sharp, quick moan, biting your lips and thanking God that he couldn't see the face you made when his hips ground his cock up into your ass. 

“I'm probably not ready for this,” you stuttered slightly, breath departing your body quicker than it could arrive. 

“Probably not.”

“We work together, too. It would be awkward.”

“It might,” he nodded. “But you still want to.” 

You couldn't help the moan, finally letting it free as you tossed your head back and clawed at his forearm, wrapped around you. 

Your ass had a mind of its own, grinding back into him in circles as his hands found their way under your shirt, inquisitive fingers stroking your nipples through your bra. 

“S-Spencer,” you whimpered again, legs spreading apart as you felt that familiar warmth settle between them. He didn't miss the longing in your tone, the shift in your core, pushing one hand down your stomach and trailing it onto your thigh. 

It was as close as he could get with your pants still on, tight against your skin. He squeezed your thigh,  still licking and sucking at your neck before his hand rose to the clasp of your pants. 

It took him a long lime to fumble with them, and you thought of helping multiple times but you let yourself get distracted by the tense definition of his muscles, the rigid line of his body as he strained to please you. 

Your mind fogged with lust, and you felt the vibrations from his pocket right under you when your phone rang again. You practically jerked up in shock as pleasure hit you in a wave, Spencer's fingers finally dipping into your panties just as the vibrations hit you. They weren't centred, of course, not anywhere close to where you needed them to be for you to enjoy them the way you would a toy, but that's what Spencer was for. 

He let the call ring out, tracing small, slow circles over your clit as you jumped up into his hand, moaning and whimpering the entire time. 

“What an idiot. I bet he never touched you like this. Nice and slow.”

“N-no, S-s-” 

“I'm so glad I'm right. He didn't deserve this beautiful cunt. You're so wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded and he hummed in response, voice low and making you pulse in his lap. 

“That's it, good girl,” he whispered as you worked your cunt up and down his fingers, stilling himself so you could find your own pleasure. 

“Spencer… Spencer, fuck-” 

With his free hand, he turned your face to the side and finally kissed you properly as you moaned into his mouth. He was quick to deepen the kiss, to press his tongue against the seam of your mouth and enter your mouth, quickly dominating you as you let yourself get more and more excited. Your hips stuttered, out of rhythm and out of practice, and you almost whimpered in frustration that you couldn't get off quicker, that your body wasn't finding the orgasm quick enough despite how good, how perfect this felt.

Sensing your growing frustration, Spencer broke the kiss. 

“Come with me,” he said, pulling his hands away from your wet cunt and out of your stupid pants and encouraging your hips up until you were stood and he was stood behind you. 

Cock still firmly stood against your ass, he walked you all the way to his bedroom, hands on your hips the entire time, memorising the sway of your walk. 

“Strip and get on the bed, please, Y/N,” he said, finally peeling himself away from you as you nodded quickly and listened to him immediately. You weren't sure what to expect, so you hesitated, laying down, crawling up until your head hit the pillows. You were almost disappointed when you finally looked back at Spencer and he was still fully clothed, so sure that he was going to fuck you to your climax. 

Instead, he approached the bed, gently slid his arms around your thighs, opened your legs wider, knelt on the floor and brought your cunt to his face. 

The first touch of his to guess to your clit had you almost beside yourself with lust. You'd been sexually active for a handful of years, and this - THIS - was the first time you'd experienced such acute pleasure. 

Your hips were unable to stop, thrusting up into his face as you willed his tongue to engulf you, to be a tool in your pleasure. 

Again your phone rang, but he grabbed it quickly, pausing only a second to silence it and discard it on the bed beside you, sitting it further up the bed where it would no longer be a distraction to him. 

He dove right back in, and you rewarded him with wave after wave of fierce moan, your writhing body only restricted by a hand snaked up onto his stomach. You still pushed against his face, practically fucking it as he flattened out his to guess and let you chase your high. 

“Spencer!” You gasped and moaned, voice dripping with lust and desperation, mouth not even properly forming words now you were so close. 

You propped yourself up slightly, looking down as Spencer's eye caught your own, his chin slick with your juices, his eyes dripping with lust. You grabbed a handful of his hair and jumped that little bit faster as you felt that long forgotten whisper of pleasure, that all-encompassing explosion of satisfaction, and you came apart on Spencer's tongue. 

“Thank you, thank you, Spencer, shit, thank you,” you whimpered, falling back again into the bed as you rode out the high. When you managed to open your bleary eyes again, Spencer was propped up above you, but instead of paying you attention, he'd grabbed your phone and bought it to his ear. 

“You heard that? Good. I'm sure you're aware now that she won't be returning your calls tonight. Goodbye.” 

His voice, his words, were like a cold bucket of water to your brain as you sat up, reaching for him and finding him as his hips circled your waist. 

“Was that-?” He cut you off with a kiss  a sweet, soft one. 

“Yes.” He kissed you again  and you melted into his touch as he pulled you into his lap again. 

“H-He-” 

“He knows now what a real orgasm sounds like. He knows you're not interested anymore. He knows you're mine now.” 

You shivered at the words, your lust addled brain flooding your senses, and your cunt as you reacted to the possessiveness of his words, his tone. Part of you was turned on by the exhibitionism as well. You'd had to walk in on your ex boyfriend completely exposed, and there was satisfaction in kicking him to the curb with a similar fuck you. A fuck you that you'd enjoyed a lot. 

You pressed your lips against Spencer's and rocked your hips against him again, tasting yourself on his tongue as he laid you down once more. His cock twitched against your leg as he propped you up on the pillows, and your hands trailed down to show it some attention as your sighed into his kiss.

He eagerly shed his clothes, first his top, sitting up and pulling it over his head, giving you a deliriously enticing shot of his chest and soft stomach before dropping down to cover your body again. You let your hand find the sprinkling of hair on his lower stomach, though, following it down as you encouraged his pants off. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand, and you gladly stroked it as he kissed the plains of your body again. He found the side of your neck that he'd neglected earlier, licking and sucking until it was almost as loved as the first side, before pulling your hand away from his cock. 

You pouted and began to protest when he quickly lined his cock up with your cunt, and slid in deep and soft before you could. 

“Needed to be in you,” he whispered in your ear, gripping your hips and sliding your legs up and around him as he pushed that little bit deeper. “Keep them nice and wide for me,” he said, dropping one last kiss to your lips, before his chest rose, and his hips pulled away again. 

When they snapped back into you, you let out a generous scream of pleasure that almost had you wishing you'd never hung up. He set a quick pace, a furious pace as he too moaned into the contact of your cunt and his cock, two desperate people searching for release. 

“So tight, Y/N, you're so tight,” he moaned, flesh hitting flesh as you dug your nails into his arms, already so wet again, you could feel the sheets under you growing damp. His hand left its perch on your hip and found its way to your clit once again, and you knew that you weren't going to be able to keep to this pace without cumming a second time. 

“Keep moaning for me baby, show me how much you want it,” his voice begged, almost a rumble with how lustful he sounded. You let your voice carry, each moan a little bit more unrestricted than the last. 

“Louder, Y/N, please. I want to hear how much you're enjoying this, you don't know how much I enjoy hearing your pleasure.”

His prayers were answered when he lowered his head back down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing it with his teeth between licks and sucks. You practically screamed his name, pressing your chest up to grant him better access. 

You liquefied beneath him, pressure building and building until you felt him rock, lifting his chest as you came. He pulled his cock out, teasing it through your folds as you stuttered around him, your arousal squirting across his cock and sheets as you fell back to the bed, gasping in pleasure. Your hips stuttered against him, and he soothed you gently, still working his cock through your folds gently as your clit went from overwhelmed to calm to quickly overstimulated. 

“Spencer,” you whimpered, almost unable to take all the pleasure he was offering you. “Spencer, it-it hurts.” 

“Don't you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping his movements for a second as you deliberated your answer. The lack of movement was answer alone, and you shook your head no wanting to feel his cock against you, inside you, one more time. 

“Louder, Y/N, tell me what you want.” 

“I want to keep going,” you said, as he began slowly rocking his cock against you again, sticky from your cum. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, teasing a nipple with his hand as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Please fill me up again, please I want to cum again.” 

“One more time?” He asked.

“Mhmmm… one more… one more, please.” 

You were cum drunk, so horny that you couldn't fathom stopping there. He pressed another kiss to your lips and encouraged you to flip over, propping a pillow under your stomach as he pulled your legs into the right position. 

You snuggled into the pillows at your head, pushing your ass up for him slightly as he nudged his cock against your entrance once more. 

“Where should I cum  Y/N?” He asked, reaching under you to slowly circle your clit again. 

“H-hmmm…” you said, eyes shut, focused more on the pleasure than the question. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care where he came, just as long as he let you do it, too. 

“Y/N, I expect an answer. Where should I put my cum?” 

“Anywhere,” you pouted, pressing your hips back into his cock in the hopes that he'd just fuck you again already. 

“That's not an answer,” he said, gently slapping your ass as he pulled his cock away. 

“On your back?” He asked, fingers still working your clit underneath, but trailing lower until they found your cunt, two entering you to keep you wet and stretched for him. 

“You'd need to shower before you could pass out, but I'm happy to help clean you off. They have communal showers in prison, so I'm not shy.” You moaned at the suggestion but couldn't answer further. 

“On your stomach? Again we'd have to shower off, but I would love to see your boobs decorated all nicely.” Your moans were whimpers now as he edged you with his fingers, his words gentle in your ear but dripping with so much lust and promise you couldn't stand it. You didn't want to make decisions anymore. 

“On your face?”

“Not on my face,” you snapped quickly, and he nodded and stroked your hair, hooking a strand behind your ear as he agreed. 

“Okay. Where, Y/N? Be a good girl and tell me.”

“I-Inside. Cum inside me. Please.” 

“Of course. Good job.”

He pulled his hand free gently, and quickly replaced it with his thick cock, and you moaned again at the weight of it against your walls, the familiar stretch of it. In this position, he reached deeper somehow, his thrusts slower, more precise as he drew out his own orgasm as long as possible, maximising his ability to pleasure you. 

“Good girl,” he muttered against your skin, dropping a kiss to your back. “Good girl.” 

“Wanted to do this for so long, Y/N,” he confessed with each thrust. “Look at how pretty this pussy is, how wet it is for me. I wish your boyfriend could see it. I wish he could see how well-behaved you are for me. How nicely you take my cock.” 

His deep, slow strokes, his words, the kisses he pressed against any inch of your skin he could reach combined to push you over the edge a third and final time. This one wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was a steady shudder of pleasure from your hips and a quiet, satisfied sigh. 

You didn't say anything  but Spencer knew, he felt it, and he came moments after, cock deep inside as he filled you with his cum. 

“You're on birth control, right?” 

“IUD. Pill. Yeah.” You say between breathy sighs of contentment.

Muttering something behind you, he pulled out finally, leaving for a minute to grab a washcloth and clean himself off before returning to help you as well. 

“What did you mumble?” You asked, as he crawled back into your arms, looking up at him. 

“What?” He asked, ears turning slightly pink as you stared at him intently. 

“Just now. I told you I was on birth control, and you mumbled something.” 

He looked away, refusing to meet your gaze before dropping to kiss you sweetly once again. 

“Tell me,” you said, and he kissed you again. 

“Spencer, tell me,” you pouted, and he kissed the pout away. 

You almost asked again, but he kissed you too quickly, too deeply  and you lost your breath again. 

“I said,” he started, leaving you panting under him again. “It was good you're on birth control, because I like the sight of my cum dripping out of you.” 

The remaining breath left your body as you gasped, your face growing hot. You burrowed your face in his chest and let him hold you as you drifted into sleep, wrapped up in each other. 

[cumironi]

COLD ICE POPSICLE!

summary. you and your friends sit in the back of the school building, smoking and talking, joint in hands. it was summer and heat waves swimming around freely, you eating some ice cream, licking and slurping while your eyes focus on your two friends, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . who knows that might not be the only thing you lick that day?

wc. 12k | masterlist.

warning. fem! reader, dirty talk, praise, choking, hair pulling ( gojo, geto ), nineteen! satosugu x reader, biting, risky public place, degrading, oral sex ( m! receiving ), smoking joint, drug mentioned, fingering, threesome mentioned.

in the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun, you, gojo satoru, geto suguru, and nanami kento are lounging in the back of the school, surrounded by abandoned tables and chairs. the heat wave has turned the place into an uncomfortable haven, but you all find some relief in the occasional breeze.

gojo, sprawled out on one of the tables across from you, is animatedly complaining about the heat, “i swear, if it gets any hotter, we’ll need to start using our powers just to stay cool!” nanami, sitting cross-legged on a nearby chair beside gojo, rolls his eyes. “gojo, we’re not going to use our cursed energy just to avoid a bit of sweat. it’s not that bad.”

geto, lounging on the grass with a half-smile, adds, “you’re just saying that because you’re immune to the heat. it’s like you’re always in your own personal air-conditioned bubble.” gojo grins, clearly enjoying the moment. “oh, come on, nanami. you’re just bitter because you can’t complain as creatively as i can.” nanami raises an eyebrow, throwing his upperclassmen a look. “creative? more like annoying. maybe if you spent less time talking and more time focusing, you wouldn’t be so bothered by the heat.” gojo laughs loudly at nanami’s retort, clearly enjoying every second of this.

“aw, come on na-na-mi,” he teases, drawing out the syllables, “admit it, you love it when i get all creative. adds a bit of spice to your otherwise predictable life.” you snort at gojo's words, hands waving up and down as you try to cool off your neck. gojo grins widely at your reaction, noticing your attempt to cool down. “oh, fanning yourself, huh?” he says with a smirk, “can’t handle the heat?” now shifting his attention to you.

nanami just rolls his eyes, not even looking up from his book. “you’re not any better, gojo. you’ve been complaining nonstop for the past hour.” hearing the words coming out of nanami's mouth, gojo feigns a wounded expression. “excuse me, nanami. i’m not complaining. i’m creatively expressing my discomfort,” he gasped before throwing the blonde a nasty look.

“yeah, creatively annoying everyone around you,” geto chimes in, lounging comfortably on the grass with his eyes closed. gojo turns his attention to geto, a playful glint in his eyes. “oh, look who decided to join the conversation. got tired of just sitting there looking pretty?” geto scoffs at this, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “oh, please. as if i need to say anything. unlike you, i know when to shut up.”

gojo shoots geto a mock-offended look, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “ouch, sugu. you wound me. i'll have you know, my talking is a form of art,” he pout as he speaks bullshit. nanami finally looks up from his book, his expression unreadable as usual, “more like art of torture.”

you chuckle when you hear the words nanami said as his eyes back to focusing on his book. “why are you even reading in this heat?” you look at your classmates, shaking your head lightly as you pull out an electric fan from your bag and opening two buttons of your uniform. gojo's eyes immediately light up when he sees the fan and starts fanning yourself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “well,” he says, lounging back on the table, “looks like you've got the solution right there.”

geto open his one eye to look at you— eyes straight to your chest as he lets out a low whistle, eyeing you up and down, “now that's a sight for sore eyes.” nanami ignores their comments, focused on his book, but you can see a subtle flush rising on his cheeks. gojo leans forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, “you know, y/n, that fan would be a lot more useful if you were over here.”

he pats the spot on the table beside him, looking up at you with a hopeful expression. geto chuckles at gojo's blatant flirting, amused by the situation. “yeah,” he adds, “or come lie over here with me. i promise i won’t bite.” even nanami glances up from his book, his eyes flickering in your direction before quickly looking back down when he accidentally looking at your chest.

gojo's smirk widens as he notices nanami's reaction. “ooh, look at that,” he teases, “is that a blush i see on na-na-mi's face?” geto laughs, clearly enjoying the teasing. nanami shoots both of them a glare, his cheeks still flushed, “shut up.” gojo just grins, enjoying the effect he's having on the other sorcerer, “what's wrong, na-na-mi? can't handle a little heat?”

geto grins, continuing to tease nanami, “yeah, looks like you're finally overheating, nanami. maybe you should take a break from that book and enjoy the scenery.” which he means by scenery is your chest. gojo pour fuel to the fire, looking at you with a smirk, “well, what do you say, y/n? want to save na-na-mi from melting?” nanami glares at gojo and geto, his cheeks now turning more pink than before. he keeps his focus on his book, yet there's an undeniable flutter in his chest.

geto continues, “you know, i bet you could cool down even more if you undid a couple more buttons,” he says that last part without even an ounce of shame, which gets him another glare from nanami. gojo, ever the instigator, smirks at geto's words, “now you're talking. i'm curious to see if that would help, honestly.”

nanami rolls his eyes at their constant bickering, but he can't help but feel a flutter in his chest when he imagines you taking off your uniform. he clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure, “knock it off, you two. stop being so inappropriate.”

gojo and geto, of course, ignore his plea and continue their teasing. gojo leans forward to you as he sits on the table across from you, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone, “you know, i could help you undo those buttons if you want.” you can't help but blush at the suggestion, feeling a bit flustered by gojo-stupid-satoru's boldness, “fuck off, satoru!” you throw your book at the white-haired boy, “always a fucking pervert,” you mumble loud enough for your friends to hear.

geto barks out a laugh at your reaction, clearly enjoying the show, “ah, there it is. that's the y/n we know and love.” gojo grins as he dodges the book effortlessly, his eyes still fixed on you, “oh come on, don't be like that. i'm just trying to offer my services here, love,” he smugly said. even nanami can't help but snicker at your response, his irritation momentarily fading as he glances in your direction.

“seriously,” gojo says, a smirk playing on his lips, “just imagine it. i could help you take off those pesky buttons one by one. slowly, gently.” geto grins, clearly enjoying gojo's suggestive tone and your reaction. “oh, i can already picture it. the look on your face would be priceless.” just like how they fuck you the night before’ geto thought.

nanami finally looks up from his book again, his eyes flickering in your direction. he can't deny that the image gojo is painting is getting to him, and his cheeks flush a deep pink. gojo leans back on the table— back almost touching the wall, his arms stretched behind his head as if he hasn't a care in the world, “you know, you'd look even better without that uniform anyway.”

geto adds, his expression sly, “yeah, i wouldn't mind seeing a little more skin.” he lays back on the grass, his arms under his head. of course they don't, at least not after that night. “you know,” he says, “it's not like there's anyone else around. we could probably get away with doing some pretty lewd things right now and no one would ever know.”

he shoots a sly glance in your direction, clearly enjoying the idea. gojo smirks, stretching casually as he nods at whatever geto's said, “oh, i like the way you think, suguru.” nanami shoots both of them a glare but doesn't say anything. he can't deny that the thought has crossed his mind as well, but he's too dignified to admit it.

seeing nanami's reaction you can feel your beating faster and the heat from the sun running through your blood straight to your cheeks. you pull books out of geto's bag beside you before throwing them to the two shameless hyenas. “stop putting things on na-na-mi's mind! you two are insufferable!” your voice wavering with annoyance.

feeling your cheeks start to burn, again, as your mind plays a split second of your activity with gojo and geto a few days ago, you walk over to shoved gojo's chest lightly before muttering, “asshole.” before walking back to the table across from him and sit your ass back to your original position— not forgot to kick geto's leg on your way back.

gojo snickers as you shove him, enjoying the reaction he's gotten out of you, “oh, come on. don't be mad.” geto joins in, his tone teasing but lightheartedly, “yeah, we were just messing with you.”

“can't even let you kids alone for a second, and now i heard some fighting,” shoko's voice could be heard, followed by a long sigh. you could see a plastic bag on her hand while a joint in the other with yuu haibara following from behind. you perk up at the sight of the girl, a wide grin forming on your face. “ah, my baby shoko! finally some company is worth tolerating. did you buy me the ice cream?”

shoko gives you a small smile, her usual laid-back expression never faltering, “of course. how could i not get my favorite sugar-addict some much-needed ice cream?”

yuu, trailing slightly behind shoko, gives you a wave, “hey, y/n. hope these two idiots aren't giving you a hard time.” geto and gojo, hearing yuu's comment, both let out a mock-offended scoff, clearly unbothered by the jab. pouting as you look at your classmates, yuu haibara always the soft one sitting himself beside you at the edge of the table. “they always give me a hard time,” your voice no longer lingers with annoyance as you talk to the boy, clearly different from before.

seeing the change in your behavior as you talk to yuu, geto and gojo rolled their eyes. shoko hands the ice cream to you, she glances over at gojo and geto, her eyes narrowing slightly, “what are you idiots up to now?”

geto grins cheekily at shoko as he stretches out again, “oh, nothing much. just having a bit of harmless fun.” gojo nods, and flashes shoko a smile, his eyes flickering over to you and yuu. “yeah, we were just talking about how hot it is today.” shoko rolls her eyes, clearly not convinced by their innocent facade, “yeah, right. i know you two. i'm sure you're plotting something mischievous.” geto push himself off the grass before dusting his pants and sit beside gojo.

“i swear if idiots could fly this school would be a fucking airport,” nanami mutters under his breath as he shake his head. his eyes throwing a look at gojo and geto before back to his book. you snicker the moment the words go through your ears before laughing.

both gojo and geto roll their eyes at nanami's words, clearly unbothered by his disapproving attitude. gojo, spotting the joint in shoko's hand, immediately perks up. “hey, share some of that, shoko,” he says, holding out his hand expectantly.

shoko shoots him an unimpressed look, “buy your own.” gojo huffs dramatically, “come on, don’t be like that. i’m suffering in this heat. just a little bit?” nanami just shakes his head, while geto chuckles at gojo’s persistent begging.

“me first, me first,” you tug shoko's uniform.

shoko rolls her yes lets out a weary sigh, her expression unchanged, “ah, there's the drug addict i know.” her resistance to the boys' pleas wearing thin. she sigh, voice dripping with defeated, “alright, you brats. you're all like a bunch of beggars.” she hands the joint to you first, before passing it to geto next, and finally to gojo.

“i swear, you guys are such a pain in the ass.” she mutters, though there's a hint of fondness in her tone. as gojo takes the joint, he grins widely, clearly pleased with himself, “aww, we know you love us, shoko.”

geto chuckles at his comment, taking a drag before passing it to yuu. he added, “yeah, we're like the three stooges, you can't get rid of us that easily,” referring to himself, gojo and you. nanami snort, “yeah, right, more like the three nuisances.” geto takes the next hit, the smoke swirling around his face before he lets out a contented sigh, “yeah, finally. now we're talking.”

yuu, still sitting beside you, can't help but chuckle at his friends' antics, “i swear, you three look like a bunch of potheads sometimes.” gojo lets out a mock-offended gasp, his eyes widening, “how dare you. we're not potheads. we're connoisseurs of recreational relaxation.”

geto snickers, adding, “yeah, we're exploring different states of consciousness for medicinal purposes.” nanami, clearly exasperated by their excuses before reaching his arm to take the next puff, “yeah, medicinal purposes, my ass.” hearing your snorts, clearly amused by the blonde's response. with mockery in your voice while faintly nodding your head you joked, “yeah, that's a nice way of saying we like to get high as often as possible.”

shoko rolls her eyes but doesn't protest, used to their shenanigans by now. “ah, i swear one of these days you guys are going to smoke yourselves stupid,” she mutters. geto grins, taking another drag before passing the joint to you. “what can we say? we just enjoy the finer things in life.”

gojo nods in agreement, his eyes already starting to glaze slightly, “yeah, we're philosophers of sorts. exploring the boundaries of our minds and whatnot.”

yuu rolled his eyes, grins at their responses before he takes a puff himself, “yeah, you're all philosophers, alright. the three wise men— stoned edition.” shoko can't help but snicker at yuu's comment, clearly finding their behavior amusing despite her facade of annoyance. “ah, the three wise men on a never-ending journey to find their inner peace in a cloud of smoke.”

nanami snicker, now fully closed his book as he takes a bottle of ramune from the plastic bag that shoko brought, “more like the three idiots on a never-ending journey to find a brain cell.” offended, you puff a smoke out of your lips before giving nanami an offended look, “hey, i'm smarter than these two fuckers, alright?” your fingers pointing at geto and gojo, joint still intact between your fingers.

gojo and geto feign shock, pretending to be insulted by your words. “hey, we take offense to that,” gojo protests. get corrected, “yeah, we have brain cells. somewhere.” shoko chuckles at— more like a scoff, “oh, please. we all know you two share a singular brain cell, and it's permanently on vacation.” yuu grins at her comment, nodding his head before agreeing, “yeah, it goes on a vacation every time you light up a joint.”

gojo laughs, his eyes still a bit glassy from the drug as he looks at you. “aww, that's cute. you think being smarter than us is an accomplishment.”

a smirk playing on his lips, geto argued, “just because you scored higher on a few tests, doesn't make you a freaking genius.” you cross your arms, feigning indignance taking an offended with his words, you bark with your finger pointing at yourself, “hey now. i'll have you know, i'm a lot smarter than you idiots give me credit for.”

nanami rolls his eyes, adding with his expression still as stern as ever, “yeah, like that's something to brag about.”

shoko chuckles at your response, clearly enjoying the playful rage between all of you, “yeah, she's smart. just don't ask her to do basic math. she'll probably look at you like you're speaking a foreign language.”

yuu laughs at shoko's comment, chiming in, “yeah, she's book smart, not street smart. she'd probably get lost trying to find her way out of a paper bag.” gojo grins, clearly satisfied with the jabs at your expense, “yeah, she's smart in theory, but in practice...”

geto added to your fire with his tone teasing but playful, “yeah, she's got a head full of knowledge but zero common sense.” nanami raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, taking a liking to how his friends started teasing you. “come on, guys, don't be like that, she's good at memorizing facts, just don't puts her in a real-world situation and it's game over,” yuu berated his friends even though his word says otherwise.

you give yuu a light smack on his stomach before laughing, “shut up,” you protest, slightly annoyed by their teasing, “i swear every time you guys talk i'm seven years old again.” yuu chuckles, rubbing his stomach playfully before sticking his tongue out at you, “aww, is someone feeling a little sensitive about their lack of common sense?” shoko grins, enjoy your annoyance as much as the rest of your friends, “yeah, you're definitely showing your youthful side right now.”

gojo and geto's grins widen, having a moment with the chance to poke fun at you, “oh, you're acting so mature,” gojo teases.

geto adds, “uh-uh, like a petulant child.”

you rolled your eyes, annoyed, “whatever.”

you open the package of your ice cream and notice how it's already half melting because of the heat wave, “aw man, my ice cream melting.” geto snickers, “yeah, maybe that's what happens when you spend too much time talking crap and not enough time enjoying your snack.” he wiggle his eyebrows together when you throw him a glare before focusing back to your half melted ice cream.

you pout at all four of them, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement, “why are you all so mean to me?” yuu grins, clearly enjoying the chance to poke fun. “aww, don't pout. we're just teasing you because we love you,” he lean in to give your cheek a kiss.

shoko smirks, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “yeah, and besides, you make it so easy.” gojo grins wider and eyes glimmering with amusement, “right, you're like a punching bag for our jokes.” shoko, who’s been enjoying the banter, pipes in, “maybe you could lick it off the wrapper. improvise.” you look down at your half-melted ice cream, contemplating whether to eat it straight from the wrapper or not. “yeah right, like i'd lick it off the wrapper like some kind of savage,” you protested.

gojo, geto, and yuu all burst into laughter at your protests, satisfied with your reaction, as always: so easy. shoko snickers, a smirk on her face, “oh, come on. where’s your sense of adventure?”

gojo wiping away a tear of laughter, open his mouth again to pester you, “yeah, live a little. stick out your tongue and taste the wrapper.” yuu chimes in with a wide grin, clearly enjoying himself with your misfortune, “yeah, embrace your inner beast. lick that wrapper clean.”

geto smirks, enjoying the opportunity to tease you even further, “or are you too much of a princess to get your hands dirty?” he, always knows which button to push. you raised your eyebrows, suddenly feeling challenged by his comments. they know one thing about you: you love proving them wrong, and you hate losing. and you, yourself know that they're doing it on purpose.

so you stick your tongue out, giving the wrapper kitten-lick as your eyes lock with the two boys across from you before fully, slowly licking the wrapper, making it as sensual as possible. and all at once, gojo and geto's minds suddenly flashed an image from a week ago where you gave them head.

gojo and geto's eyes widen as you start to lick the wrapper. the sight, as innocent as it might seem to the others, reminds both of them of something far less so. their cheeks flush red as their minds suddenly flash back to the moment from a week ago with you.

yuu, noticing the change in their expressions, raises an eyebrow, “are you guys alright? you look a bit flushed.” shoko, being more observant, smirks as she notices the similarity between your action and their reaction. you snort before throwing the wrapper on the ground and putting the ice cream in your mouth. a faint mumble could be heard from you, “pussy.”

gojo and geto, still reeling from the unintentional but reminiscent display, are left speechless. their faces continue to burn red as they struggle to keep their cool, trying not to think too much about what your action had reminded them of.

shoko, her smirk growing wider, glances at them and snickers, making a mental note of their reaction. nanami, having watched the entire exchange, rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath, “idiots are so easy to read.”

geto, trying to compose himself, clears his throat and forces a smile onto his face, “nah, we're just... distracted.” gojo, joining in, adds in a slightly shaky voice, “yeah, distracted. by how absurd that display was.” he pointed his finger at you, “did you really need to make that so sensually?” yuu snickers at gojo's comment, while shoko rolls her eyes again and nanami just mutters ‘idiots’ once more.

you, on the other hand, feign innocence as you lick the ice cream, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “what do you mean, sensually? i was just simply licking the wrapper, like a normal person would,” your voice dripping with innocuousness.

gojo and geto exchange a look, knowing that your feigned innocence is just a mask to cover up the fact that you knew exactly what you were doing. gojo tries to keep his composure as he retorts, “yeah, right. that was the least innocent licking i've ever seen.”

geto adds while struggling to keep his mind from wandering, “you definitely knew what you were doing. don't play coy now.” shoko, enjoying their obvious flustered state, can't help but tease them further, “oh, really? distracted by how 'sensual' it was? what's so special about licking an ice cream wrapper that you two are acting so awkwardly?”

yuu, oblivious to the hidden truth, chimes in with a confused expression, “guys, it was just a wrapper,” his voice dripping with confusion. you continue to maintain your innocent facade, licking the ice cream nonchalantly.

gojo and geto's faces flush even deeper as shoko's remark hits the mark, and they struggle to come up with a response that wouldn't give away their true thoughts. yuu, oblivious to the hidden context, looks innocently confused while nanami mutters under his breath and choose to playing with his phone, “ignore them, ignore them.”

you look up to meet their gaze, eyes glued to you. silently you are eating your ice cream, eyes never leaving them as you lick your ice cream from the bottom to the top before bottom out your ice cream. you smile as your tongue licks the bottom of your ice cream, a few times slurping the melted ice away before putting the ice cream back inside your mouth, didn't really pay any attention as your friends keep plastering gojo and geto.

gojo and geto's gazes remain fixated on you as you continue to lick the ice cream in such a manner, their faces turning even more flustered and their minds racing with inappropriate thoughts. shoko, who is enjoying the show, can't help but tease them further, “look at you two, practically drooling over there. something you'd like to share with the rest of us?”

gojo and geto quickly turn their heads away, unable to hold your gaze any longer. they try to play it cool, but their flushed faces and the occasional glances they steal in your direction betray their true feelings. yuu, still in the dark, looks at them curiously, “why are you guys acting so weird? it's just an ice cream.”

shoko, enjoying the power she has over them, gives them a mischievous smirk, “yeah, seriously guys. what's up with you two?”

“yeah, guys, it's just ice cream,” you said after finishing your ice cream. gojo rolled his eyes, finally gaining composure, just a little before he threw a comment, “oh please, nobody eats ice cream like that.” geto chimed in, trying to regain some control over the situation, “yeah! nobody eats ice cream so... seductively.”

shoko snickered, clearly enjoying the spectacle, “oh, really? i didn't notice anything out of the ordinary,” she said, feigning ignorance. geto nods in agreement, trying to regain his own composure as he adds, looking at shoko, “she was basically giving that ice cream the full treatment.”

gojo added, trying so hard to point his finger at your act for everyone to notice, a hint of irritation in his voice, “she was practically making out with that ice cream.”

nanami, start to enjoy the moment as ever, laugh at their comments, “come on, that's just ridiculous. it's just ice cream.” shoko can't help but smirk at gojo and geto's comments, enjoying their flustered states, “yeah, it's just a little ice cream. no big deal.”

gojo mutters under his breath, “like hell it is.”

geto adds, trying to sound nonchalant, “yeah, it's not like watching her eat that ice cream was... distracting or anything.”

“you two watch too much porn,” nanami said as he took a sip of his ramune. gojo and geto's faces burn even redder at nanami's comment. “what? no, we don't,” they protest, simultaneously, their voices are a little too defensive, breaking here and there with a high-pitched when they say ‘what?’

shoko rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying their discomfort, “yeah, sure you don't.”

yuu looks at them with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, clearly wondering what was going through their minds. before they get a chance to answer, yaga's voice rings out, bringing an end to the tension-filled moment. all hell breaks loose as everyone scrambles to react.

gojo grabs your hand, tugging you in the opposite direction from your teacher. he hollers, “run!” geto follows closely behind, the three of you separating from nanami, shoko, and haibara, who turn left. you grab your bag, heart pounding in your chest as you all try to evade yaga's wrath. as you run, you can hear your teacher's voice growing louder behind you, “get back here, you damn brats!”

laughter and the sound of footsteps fill the air as you and gojo and geto sprint away from yaga, trying to get as much distance as possible before he catches up. “come on, faster,” gojo calls out as you run, his hand still gripping yours tightly. “fuck, we can't let him catch us,” geto laugh, panting as he runs alongside you.

yaga's voice echoes behind you, growing louder and more urgent, “don't you dare run away, you brats!”

“fuck, my cigs!” you could hear shoko's voice faintly from behind you. “just let it be!” nanami's voice followed along, tightening his hand around shoko's wrist as he kept pulling the girl to run for her life. despite the panic, you can't help but chuckle at the scene playing out behind you.

gojo pulling you to the empty class and locked the door— hiding behind the door as they sandwiched you. you can feel their heart pounding on your front and your back. gojo leans against the closed door, pressing his body against your front, while geto stands behind you, his chest heaving against your back. both of them are trying to catch their breaths, the adrenaline from the chase still coursing through their veins.

gojo grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “that was close, too close.”

geto chuckles at gojo's comment, “shit, i thought we were goners for a moment there,” he laughed a little as he tried to catch his breath.

once gojo's eyes meet your face, a grin kissing his lips. he wraps his arm around you, “now we finally have time for ourselves, do you know how hard it is for me to pretend like i don't care after that stunt you pull earlier with the ice cream?” you playfully pout at his remark, leaning into his embrace. “oh, did you not enjoy the show? i thought i caught your attention quite well.”

gojo smirks back, his eyes drifting down to your lips. “oh, you caught my attention alright. you had me completely entranced.” geto snorts from behind you, his hands resting on your hips. “yeah, we were practically drooling over you. but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“you guys are being an asshole, there,” you pout. “so i try to give you some hard time like you did to me in front of nanami, what if i actually take off my uniform? want everyone to know our little secret?” your eyebrows knit together softly when you gaze at the blue pale irises. nobody knows about your little secret with geto suguru and gojo satoru. pretend to be friends in front of the others after they fuck you to oblivious the night before, but friends, right? both boys snicker at your threat, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo smirks, his hand tracing small patterns on your hip, before pulling you toward him a little, “oh please, like you don’t love the thrill of it all.” geto chuckled behind you, his hands beginning to roam over your body, “yeah, we all know you’re no angel. you get off on pushing our buttons just as much as we do.” your cheeks flushed pink as their hands continue to linger on your body, their teasing words only making you feel more flustered.

gojo continues, his voice low and sultry. “you like knowing you have that kind of power over us.” geto agrees as his hands wander further up your sides, “yeah, you love driving us crazy. it’s all a game to you, isn’t it?”

you scrunch your nose for a second, “is it?”

“and if you did take off your uniform, we would be the first to know,” gojo adds, his voice low and husky. “yeah,” geto agrees, his hands slowly pulling at the hem of your shirt. “we would be the only ones who would get that privilege.” you giggle, wrapping your arm around gojo's neck before pulling him down a little, “think i spoil you guys too much.”

both boys chuckle at your comment, clearly enjoying your playful banter. gojo grins as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. “oh, you definitely spoil us.” geto smirks, his hands continuing to wander over your sides, slipping beneath your shirt, craving for more of your skin, “yeah, we’re practically spoiled brats when it comes to you. but you love it, don’t you?” nodding, you lean down to gojo's neck, kissing the boy as you hummed, “mmh-mm.”

gojo moans at the feeling of your lips against his neck, his hands gripping your waist a little bit tighter. he leans his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoys the sensation. geto smirks, watching as you kiss gojo, his hands still roaming over your sides. he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “you’re such a tease.”

gojo wrapped his arm around you when you pulled your face away. he pulled you to the wooden table on the front row, sitting on the edge with you between his legs while geto walked over to the teacher's table and sitting on the chair, pulling his phone out and cigarettes, letting gojo have you for a moment before his turn.

gojo chuckles as he tugs you closer, his legs trapping you between them. he leans back on the edge of the table, looking up at you with a smirk on his face. “you’re all mine for a moment,” he whispers, his eyes tracing up and down your body. geto watches from the teacher’s table, an amused smile on his face as he lights up a cigarette and scrolls through his phone.

your heart races in your chest as gojo's eyes rove over your body, his smirk sending a shiver down your spine. you try to keep your composure, but something about his gaze makes you feel completely bare and vulnerable.

gojo leans in closer, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “you know how bad i’ve been wanting to touch you like this?” you smile, tighten your arm around his neck as you draw him close with your lips almost touching his, “i don't know, tell me.”

gojo grins wickedly, his large hands sliding down to grip your ass possessively as he pulls you flush against him. “i've been dreaming about having you all to myself, just like this,” he growls lowly, his hot breath fanning across your lips, “wanted to strip you naked right here in class and show everyone who you belong to.”

he punctuates his words with a sharp nip to your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and soothing the sting with his tongue. one hand slides up under your shirt, fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of your lower back. “i'm going to mark every inch of you up later,” he promises darkly, nuzzling into your neck and biting down hard enough to leave a vivid hickey.

“ahh!” a moan leaving your lips as you feel him biting down on your neck, hard. his large hands gripping your ass, intentionally pulling your skirt up to flash geto your underwear. gojo's fingers dig into your ass cheeks harder, kneading them roughly as he bites down again, marking you with his teeth. his other hand moves higher, slipping beneath your shirt to caress your back. he smirks against your neck, feeling proud of himself for making you moan so loud in public.

“suguru can see everything,” he murmurs against your skin, knowing exactly what kind of view he'd given their teacher, “and i bet he loves seeing you like this.” gojo, still clinging to you like a second skin, leads you to the back row of the empty classroom, sitting in the chair and pulls you onto his lap. he positions you so that you're straddling him, your knees resting on either side of his thighs. he wraps his arms around your waist, his touch possessive and firm, roaming over your body.

geto, noticing the change in location, gets up from the teacher's desk and slowly makes his way over to join the two of you. he takes a seat at the desk next to gojo, lighting another cigarette as he does. as soon as you settle onto gojo's lap, he grips your hips tightly, grinding his hardness against your core. a low groan escapes him, his eyes closing in bliss as he savors the sensation of being so intimately connected to you.

“you feel incredible,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. his hands roam freely over your body, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, dipping between your thighs to rub at your clit through your panties.

meanwhile, geto observes the scene with a heated gaze, taking slow drags of his cigarette as he watches gojo lose himself on you. gojo has you panting and writhing on his lap. there was no denying the heat in his gaze as he observed every move you made together. he exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes never leaving your form.

gojo lets out a deep, rumbling moan as you start moving your hips against him and your fingers hold on tightly on his shoulder. your wet heat rubbing along his thick length through your clothes. his hands squeeze your ass tighter, fingers digging into your flesh as he urges you on.

“that's it baby, ride my cock just like that,” he encourages, his voice husky with desire. as you grind against him, gojo reaches up to cup your breasts, thumbing over your nipples through your uniform. the friction combined with his touch sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, making you even more desperate for relief.

geto watches intently, his own arousal evident in the bulge growing in his pants. he takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly as he drinks in the sight of you pleasuring yourself on gojo's lap.

you keeps on grinding on gojo's clothes cock, as you rest your cheek on his shoulder and turn to your right to look at geto. moaning and grinding as you look at him.

“fuck—” you whimpering.

geto's eyes darken with lust as you meet his gaze, your needy little whimpers filling the air. he stubs out his cigarette, tossing it aside carelessly as he rises from his seat and stalks towards you. gojo notices geto approaching, a wicked grin spreading across his face. he slides one hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt out of the way to expose your soaked panties to geto's hungry eyes.

“there you go, baby,” gojo purrs encouragingly as you continue to grind on his rock-hard erection. “let suguru see what a dirty girl you are for us.”

geto looms behind you, leaning down to press his lips to your ear. “that's right, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. geto leans in closer, pressing his body against yours from behind. his hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples through your shirt.

“such a good slut,” he purrs in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “wet and leaking for satoru.” his other hand slips between your thighs, pulling your panties to the side and teasing his finger tips over your slick folds. “suck on ’toru's cock, baby,” geto whispers in your ear, smiling as he look at the white-haired boy. gojo return the smiled, “why don't you show me some tricks like you did with the ice cream before, hm?” gently, he cups your cheek.

geto back to sit on the table next to yours while you go down between gojo's legs with your knees press against the wooden floor, getting uncomfortable. without breaking eye contact with the special grade sorcerer, you kiss his clothes twitching cock before licking a damp on his pants where his precum leak through his pants.

gojo groans, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. he looks down at you, his eyes locking with yours as his breath hitches in his throat, “oh, god, that feels so good,” he tears another hoarse groan when he throws his head back for a second. your hands deftly undo his uniform buttons until his abs are revealed. you gently caress his chest, a thrill of excitement coursing through you as you notice his happy trails. with a playful smile, you place a tender kiss on them.

gojo lets out another low moan as your hands begin to unbutton his uniform, his muscles tensing under your touch. he watches you as you kiss his happy trail, his eyes burning with desire. “you’re so good at this, baby,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

gojo shivers at your touch, his abs flexing under your fingers. he lets out a soft moan as you kiss his happy trail, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “fuck. . . you’re driving me crazy,” he whispers.

gojo lets out a strangled moan as you kiss, lick and nibble on his abs. he can feel your hands on his hips, holding him in place, and it only drives him wilder with need. “oh god, baby,” he gasps, his hips arching up off the table involuntarily. geto watches from his seat, his eyes narrowing as he takes another drag from his cigarette. his jaw is slightly clenched, and he seems to be struggling to keep his own excitement in check.

gojo looks down at you, his eyes burning with desire. he can hardly keep himself still as you keep going, his body twitching and trembling with need. he reaches down, grabbing a handful of your hair and gently tugging it. “look at me,” he commands. you look up at gojo, meeting his intense gaze. his eyes are like pools of molten lava, burning with a hunger that only you can satisfy. he loosens his grip on your hair, gently stroking it instead. “you’re so goddamn beautiful, you know that?”

“am i?” you whisper. your pretty, sparkling eyes looking through gojo's soul as you painfully slow unfasten his belt. gojo watches you with hooded eyes, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he threads his fingers through your hair. gojo nods, his hand continuing to caress your hair. “yes, you are. you have no idea how much you drive me wild.” he gazes down at you, his eyes burning with desire and affection. “you’re the most gorgeous girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he whispered. he bites down on his bottom lip, trying not to moan too loudly in response to your teasing tongue after it touches his abs for the second time.

he shifts slightly in his seat, allowing you better access to his throbbing member. you can practically see him grow longer and wider under your touch, the tip glistening with pre-cum. once freed from its confines, his impressive size stands proudly before you, a clear sign of how much he desires you. the head of his dick pulses, leaking pre-cum faster now that it’s been exposed.

seeing how eager gojo is for you only fuels your excitement further as you lick along his length from base to tip with slow deliberate licks. you swirl your tongue around the head of gojo's cock, collecting the pre-cum on your taste buds. the salty-sweet flavor explodes in your mouth, spurring you on to take him deeper. with a gentle suction, you envelop the first few inches of his shaft in your warm, wet mouth. your tongue dances along the underside, tracing the prominent vein while your hands continue to caress his chiseled abdomen.

“jesus, y/n...” gojo lets out a soft groan, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. he watches with rapt attention as you bob your head up and down, taking more of him with each pass. from his perch on the table, he watches the erotic display unfold below him with his own cock strains against his pants, clearly eager for attention.

geto, who just lighten another cigarette, hold it between his left fingers after a faintly notification ring. he holds his phone on the other to look at the notification— a message from yuu. he reads a message from his underclassmen and chuckled, telling gojo that yaga caught shoko and nanami.

gojo’s eyes flicker up to geto when a chuckle passes his lips as the raven reads the message. “sounds like shoko and nanami got in trouble,” he says, a smirk on his face between his grunt, hand tightly around your hair. “l-looks like they’re the ones in the— fuck! doghouse n-now.” gojo rolls his eyes at the news, his attention still on you. “of course they got caught,” geto mutters, taking another puff with eyes still on the screen before adding, “those idiots have no sense of subtlety.”

he is smiling as he runs his hand on your hair, gently caressing them while his hips thrustin to your throat making his balls constantly slapping with your chin. “don't you think baby?” he ask. you— the girl who's cursing and calling him an asshole hour ago and now getting her throat fucked, going up and down on gojo-stupid-satoru's cock, only nodding.

gojo smiles as you nod, his hand continuing to gripping through your hair. he seems amused by the situation, enjoying having you at his mercy like this. geto puffs on his cigarette and watches the two of you from his seat, his eyes lingering on your lips around gojo's pink cock. “looks like you’re having fun down there,” he comments, a smirk on his face before chuckle.

gojo chuckles at geto’s comment, his hand giving your hair a harsh tug to push your head down to his cock until your nose touches his skin, forcing you to take his cock down to your throat. “shit!—” gojo groan, throwing his head back while you crying under his mercy and nail digging to his thigh. “she’s doing such a good job, so—ah! f-fucking good. . .” he mumble, back to fixed his eyes on you after he let you pushed yourself away from his cock, choking with tear down to your cheeks and chin wet from your saliva. “fuck, satoru, i can't fucking breath!” you look at him with tears in your eyes and lashes damp.

gojo chuckles at your words, his heart racing as he watches you come up for air. he gently wipes away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, his gaze softening. “you did so well, baby,” he praises gently, his hand caressing the side of your face. geto lets out a low whistle from his seat, his eyes dark with desire. “god, you do look good like that.” gojo looks up at him, his eyes darkened with lust and a hint of ownership. “you see what i mean? she’s so goddamn perfect.”

geto nods in agreement, his eyes roaming over your body with unabashed hunger. “oh, we’re definitely keeping you all to ourselves.”

“come here,” gojo hand meets your hair once again, “we're not done yet, baby,” his deep voice gently lures you in, again, like it always did. he pushed your head towards his tight, “i'm gonna spoil you rotten after this, don't worry.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead before tugging your hair signaling for you to continue what you were doing.

“now be a good girl and finish what you started,” he husks, his eyes dark with desire. you feel another wave of heat wash over you as gojo's deep voice calls you back to him, his hand gently yet firmly guiding you towards his lap. you shiver as he kisses your forehead, his touch sending a spark of pleasure through your body. and when he tugs your hair, you can't help but comply, your body automatically moving back into position.

gojo lets out a low, possessive growl as you return to him. “that's my good girl,” he praises. you feel a shiver run down your spine at gojo's words, your body responding immediately to the low timber of his voice. you lean into his touch, letting him guide you back down to him, your heart racing with excitement. you can feel his body trembling slightly as you get closer to him, his muscles tense with anticipation. your lips are practically touching his length, your breath hot against his skin.

gojo's hand is still in your hair, and he gives it a slight tug, pressing your face closer to his still-hard cock. “go on, baby,” he coaxes softly. “make me feel good.”

with each languid lick you give his cock, gojo's grip tightens in your hair. he tilts his hips up, thrusting his length deeper into your mouth. his breathing grows heavier, a soft groan escaping him as he watches you work him over. the taste of his precum is intoxicating, making your mouth water for more. you swirl your tongue around the head of his dick, coating it thoroughly before sucking him into your mouth.

the warmth of your mouth envelops him completely, causing him to hiss through clenched teeth, “fuck. . . just like that.” you can feel his hands on your body, gently yet firmly guiding your movements as you continue your task. gojo's eyes are darkened with desire as he watches you, his gaze fixed on your every move. he loves seeing you like this, completely submissive to his commands.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, his voice thick with arousal, “so obedient. so perfect for us.” gojo's hips buck involuntarily as you deepen the suction, your throat constricting around his girth. he throws his head back, a string of curse words falling from his lips as he loses himself in the pleasure of your oral skills. your hands move to his balls, gently massaging them as you bob your head up and down his shaft. each stroke brings you closer to the root, your nose brushing against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock.

gojo's fingers tighten in your hair, guiding your movements as he grunts and moans, lost in the blissful sensations you're providing. the room fills with the sounds of slurping, sucking, and gojo's increasingly erratic breathing.

gojo's control starts slipping away as you continue to worship his cock with such enthusiasm. his hips begin thrusting upwards instinctively, seeking more of your warm, wet mouth. a low growl rumbles in his chest as he watches you work him over so skillfully. “shit... i'm gonna cum if you keep going like this...”

his warning comes out strained and ragged, but there's no real conviction behind it. instead, he pushes your head down further onto his cock, urging you to take all of him inside your mouth once again. gojo's control snaps, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. with a hoarse cry, he tenses, his cock pulsing violently as he spills his hot seed down your throat.

wave after wave of his release coats your tongue and the back of your mouth, the salty-sweet flavor overwhelming your senses. you swallow greedily, milking every last drop from his quivering member. as the aftershocks subside, gojo carefully pulls you off his spent cock, his chest heaving with exertion.

“you're incredible,” he rasps, still catching his breath, “i don't know what i'd do without you, baby.” he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and adoration, stroking your cheek affectionately, “you really know how to make a man feel good and bring them to their knees,” he says approvingly, gives your cheek a light pinch before pulling you up onto his lap.

his arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close against his chest. you can hear his heartbeat quickening again, signaling his arousal wasn't fully satiated yet. with a sly smirk, he presses his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss. his tongue explores your mouth eagerly, tasting himself on your lips. gojo chuckles softly between the kiss, his voice still rough from the intensity of his climax.

as the kiss breaks, gojo smirks down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “but let's not forget about our lovely suguru,” he whispers suggestively, nodding toward the other end of the table where geto is watching intently. he gestures for you to crawl over to geto while he cleans himself up. geto smirks, leaning back slightly on the table as he watches you two bask in the afterglow of gojo's climax. his eyes gleam with possessive pride, clearly pleased by the display of devotion between you and his best friend.

“i think we've established that by now,” geto drawls, taking a long drag from his cigarette. he exhales slowly, the smoke curling around his head as he regards you with a heated gaze. “but after my turn, we are not done with you yet, princess,” his voice deepen, soften.

he sets his cigarette aside, standing up from the table with a predatory grace. geto moves towards you, his movements fluid and deliberate, like a cat stalking its prey. “don't worry about satoru for now,” geto purrs, his voice low and seductive, “it's my turn to play with my favorite toy.”

geto reaches out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet. he spins you around, pressing you against the table as he leans in close behind you. his breath tickles your ear as he whispers, “time to show satoru just how well you can please two men at once.” his free hand slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher as he explores your wetness. “soaked and ready for me,” he murmurs approvingly, circling your clit with his thumb. “you love being used for our pleasure, don't you?”

“oh, suguru..” a soft moan escape from your lips.

without waiting for an answer, geto sinks two fingers deep inside you, pumping them in and out at a relentless pace. his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you steady as he fucks you with his fingers, making sure you feel every inch of his digits stretching you open.

between your whimpering and moaning you glance over at gojo, who's watching the scene unfold with rapt attention. his eyes are dark with desire, his cock already starting to stir again at the sight of geto claiming you so roughly.

too busy drinking on gojo's spend expression you don't realize geto positions himself between your spread thighs, lining up his thick erection with your entrance. without warning, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“oh god!” you cry out, your body arching off the table as geto's girth stretches you impossibly wide. he sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with reckless abandon, each stroke hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that sends sparks flying behind your eyelids. your hands gripping at nothing on the table while geto fuck your from behind.

gojo's gaze never leaves yours, his expression a mix of awe and hunger as he watches geto take you with such ferocity. “fuck, look at her take it,” geto's command sends a thrill through your body, heightening your arousal even further. as instructed, you look over at gojo, who is watching intently with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. seeing both men so focused on you, so consumed with desire, is incredibly arousing.

“s-suguru..” you gasp as geto aligns his throbbing cock with your slick entrance, teasing you with the head before plunging into your clenching walls once again. a loud moan rips from your throat as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, filling you completely. your palm nailed unstable against the tabletop, desperate for support.

each thrust is powerful and precise, designed to drive you insane with pleasure. geto's hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him as he pounds into you relentlessly.

your cries of ecstasy fill the air, mingling with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin as geto takes you hard and fast. sweat beads on your brow, trailing down your sides as he ravages your body, claiming you as his own.

gojo's gaze remains locked on the erotic spectacle, his cock twitching with renewed interest. “such a perfect little slut for us,” he praises, his voice husky with lust. “love seeing you get fucked senseless.”

geto picks up speed, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. “gonna fill this cunt up,” he snarls, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. “make you mine, all mine.”

geto's declaration sends a shiver down your spine, his dominant words igniting a fire within you. you're lost in the intense pleasure of his possession, your mind foggy with need as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

“yes, yes!” you cry out, your nails raking down his arm as the pleasure builds to an unbearable crescendo. “fill me up, suguru! claim me!“ geto's words send a shiver down your spine, his dominant tone igniting something primal within you. you meet his thrusts eagerly, rocking your hips to take him deeper, harder.

just when you think you can't take anymore, geto's movements become jerky and uncoordinated. with a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt one final time and holds still, his cock throbbing violently as he spills his hot seed deep inside you.

the sensation of his cum flooding your womb triggers your own climax, waves of pure bliss crashing over you as you come undone beneath him. his release triggers your own climax, and you come undone beneath him, screaming your pleasure for all to hear. your inner muscles clamp down around his spurting cock, milking him for every last drop as waves of ecstasy crash over you.

as the aftershocks of their shared climax ripple through your bodies, geto pulls out slowly, his cum leaking from your still quivering pussy. he steps back, admiring the sight of you sprawled across the table, panting and spent.

“perfect,” he murmurs appreciatively, his voice laced with satisfaction. he wipes his cum-covered length on your inner thigh, smearing you with evidence of his claim. gojo watches the entire exchange with hooded eyes, his own arousal evident by the bulge straining against his pants. “damn, suguru,” he says enviously, “i didn't know you could be so... gentle.”

the feelings of void inside you, the feeling of never getting enough of him making you crawl down from the table and get on your knee in front of geto. your warm hand takes his silk-with-cum cock into your hands, stroking it gently as your tongue licks his overly sensitive lip, cleaning his cum with your tongue.

geto's breath hitches as you tend to his spent cock, your tender ministrations a stark contrast to the rough fucking he just gave you. he leans back against the table, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss as you lap up every trace of his release.

“mmm, careful there,” he warns, his voice low and gravelly, “still super sensitive after that orgasm.” despite his words, geto doesn't pull away, seeming to enjoy the intimate act. his hands find their way to your hair, fingers threading through the strands as he guides your mouth along his shaft.

when you reach the tip, he tugs gently, encouraging you to swirl your tongue around the sensitive head. a shudder runs through him, and he lets out a contented sigh. “that's it, baby. clean me up nice and thorough.”

“umm..” you hummed against his length, slowly running your tongue from the base before moving under his mushroom tip. your thumb gently caressing his tip. geto's hips give a small jerk as your talented tongue explores every inch of his cock, from the heavy base to the delicate underside of the head. he hums in approval, his fingers tightening in your hair as he savors the sensations.

when you focus your attentions on the sensitive area beneath the tip, geto's breath catches. his cock twitches in your hand, and he lets out a low, needy moan. “fuck, just like that,” he encourages, his voice strained with pleasure, “use that clever tongue of yours.”

as you continue to worship his spent length, geto's other hand comes up to join the first, cradling your face as he guides your movements. his touch is gentle yet possessive, a reminder of the dominance he displayed earlier. despite being thoroughly used, he seems to crave more of your affection, your submission.

geto's chest rises and falls with each slow, deliberate lick you bestow upon his oversensitive cock. his hips twitch slightly, as if trying to follow the path of your tongue. the touch of your thumb to his lip elicits a soft moan, his head falling back in surrender.

“that's so good,” he breathes, his voice heavy with pleasure, “keep going like that, and i might just have to start getting hard again.” as if to prove his point, geto's cock twitches in your grasp, the tip already beginning to swell with renewed interest. you continue your sensual ministrations, determined to bring him to full mast once more.

geto's warning only spurs you on, your tongue dancing along his length with increased fervor. you can feel his cock growing harder in your hand, the veins pulsing with renewed blood flow. his moans grow louder, more desperate, as he loses himself to the pleasure you're providing.

“ah, fuck... right there,” he gasps, his hips bucking slightly as you focus your attention on the sensitive spot beneath the head. “don't stop, please...” geto's grip on your hair tightens, almost painfully so, but you don't mind. in fact, it only adds to the intensity of the moment, making you feel owned, claimed by this powerful man. you redouble your efforts, determined to bring him to the brink once more, to make him surrender completely to your skilled mouth.

your diligent efforts soon pay off, as geto's cock begins to thicken and lengthen in your hand. a bead of precum forms at the tip, glistening in the dim light of the room. his breathing grows ragged, and his fingers tighten in your hair, urging you on.

“nnngh, that's it,” he grunts, his hips rolling subtly as he tries to grind against your mouth, “want to feel that tongue on my cock again.” emboldened by his reaction, you redouble your efforts, swirling your tongue around the head and tracing the ridges of his shaft. geto's moans grow louder, more desperate, as he teeters on the brink of another climax.

“just a bit more,” he pleads, his voice strained with need, “need to cum again, baby. make me lose control.” geto's pleas for release fuel your desire to please him, to see him unravel beneath your touch. you increase the pace of your strokes, your tongue working overtime to bring him closer to the edge.

“fuck, yeah...“ he groans, his body tensing as he approaches the precipice. his cock pulses in your hand, the vein throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat. another bead of precum appears, this time dripping onto your waiting tongue.

“cum for me suguru,” you murmur against his length. encouraged by his responsiveness, you lean forward, taking the swollen head into your mouth. your lips stretch wide to accommodate his girth, your tongue flicking against the sensitive spot underneath.

“shit, right there,” he gasps, his voice laced with raw desire, “gonna... ahh, fuck, gonna cum.” you increase the pace of your ministrations, your tongue flicking over his length with relentless precision. each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through him, and he can't help but rock his hips in time with your movements.

“shit, that's it...” he groans, his eyes squeezed shut as he fights against the wave of pleasure building within him. “gonna fill your mouth this time, baby.” his cock pulses in your hand, the tip gushing with precum. you can taste it on your tongue, salty and musky, and it only serves to fuel your desire to bring him to completion.

with a few more expert strokes, geto reaches his limit. his body tenses, a low growl escaping his lips as he cums once more. geto's cock throbs in your hand as his orgasm hits, his thick seed spurting from the tip to coat your eager tongue. you swallow every drop, savoring the taste and texture of his release.

“mmm, tastes so good,” you murmur appreciatively, your lips still wrapped around his length. you continue to suckle softly, milking every last drop from his cock before finally pulling away. you look at the man as she shaking almost uncontrollably from the action, drawing a satisfied chuckle from your lips.

geto takes a deep, shaky breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. his cock gives one final twitch, releasing a tiny trickle of cum onto your hand. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.

“you sure know how to handle a guy,” he says, his voice a husky whisper. he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tender touch that contrasts sharply with the roughness of moments ago.

“breathe, suguru,” you advise with a smirk, wiping a stray dribble of cum from the corner of your mouth. “you look like you've seen a ghost.” you chuckle as you stand up from your kneeling position before turning your attention to gojo, seeing him sitting on the table beside you with cigarettes between his fingers and phone on his other hand.

he then turns his gaze towards gojo, who was watching the entire display with evident fascination. “what do you think, satoru?” eto asks, a smug grin spreading across his face. “think she's got skills?” gojo raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable behind the smoke curling from his cigarette, “she certainly does,”

hearing the praise fill the air, you lean toward gojo, placing both hands on the table as you close the distance between you and the white-haired man. “you think so?” you ask, smiling before giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

gojo leans into the kiss, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek as his tongue slips past your lips. he pulls back after a moment, a sly smile playing on his lips. “i knew you had potential when i first saw you,” he says, his voice low and husky. “but this... this is impressive even for you.”

he takes another drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly as he regards you with a heated gaze. “i think we should celebrate your newfound skills properly,” he suggests, his eyes glinting with mischief. “how about a threesome with suguru here? we could really put those talents of yours to the test.”

you snort before scoffing— the mocking one with no bite, cleaning your clammy hands with a paper from geto's textbook. “yeah right, like hell i'll let you two have a threesome with me here, in this stupid school,” you retort before throwing the paper to the ground. gojo chuckles, the sound is rich and smooth like velvet. “oh, come now,” he coos, reaching out to trail a finger down your arm. “we wouldn't dream of doing anything inappropriate here, where anyone could walk in on us.”

he leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “besides, i think suguru would be more than happy to join us somewhere private. don't you agree, big boy?” gojo glances over at geto, who's been quietly observing the exchange with a predatory gleam in his eye.

the suggestion seems to stir something within geto, because he suddenly stands up, towering over both of you. “i'm game if you are,” he rumbles, his voice deep and husky with desire. “but we should probably take this somewhere else.”

you laugh with no sense of humor at the mention that they don't want to do anything inappropriate at school. “funny how you mention you won't do anything inappropriate here while i just give you two heads and let you fuck me,” you again laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm as you turn to gojo, finger pointing at him for emphasis.

gojo arches an eyebrow at your pointed remark, a slow smile spreading across his face. “ah, but that's different,” he purrs, catching your finger and bringing it to his lips. he places a soft kiss on the pad of your fingertip before releasing it. “that was just a little preview of what's to come.”

he stands up, smoothing out his shirt as he moves to stand beside geto. the two of them loom over you, their combined presence overwhelming in the best possible way. “so, what do you say?“ gojo presses, his eyes locked on yours. “ready to take this party elsewhere and really let loose?”

geto nods in agreement, his own gaze intense and hungry as he waits for your response. it's clear they're not going to take no for an answer, but somehow, that only makes the prospect more enticing.

you scrunch your nose, “you two are hornballs, you know that right?”

both geto and gojo share a look, their amusement is clear despite the serious expressions on their faces. “well, when it comes to you, we seem to lose all reason,” gojo admits, his tone is light but sincere.

geto steps closer, his large frame casting a shadow over you. “and we don't mind admitting it,” he adds gruffly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. “you make us forget our own names sometimes.”

he reaches out, tracing a finger down your cheek before slipping it behind your neck. his grip is firm yet gentle, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost touching. “so, what's it going to be?” he murmurs against your lips. “are you ready to lose yourself to us?”

just when you and geto start having fun, gojo's voice annoyingly rings in the room. “as much as i enjoy having fun here, i think we need to leave,” he shifts from his phone to the two of you.

waving his phone in the air, “just got a text from yuu that yaga is still looking for us.” geto lets out a low growl of frustration as gojo announces that yaga is still looking for them. he clearly doesn't want to stop, but he knows they have to be careful not to get caught.

“what is wrong with him?” you groan in annoyance as geto help you fix your uniform, “yaga acting like he's never young when he's worse than us,” you grumble in annoyance. gojo chuckles at your frustration, a sympathetic expression on his face. “yeah, he’s just being yaga.”

geto finishes fixing your uniform, his fingers deftly adjusting the collar and straightening the hem. “yaga's just trying to keep us in line,” he says, though there's a hint of bitterness in his voice. despite his words, he can't deny that yaga has a point— they shouldn't be causing trouble when they have bigger issues to deal with.

gojo pockets his phone, his eyes still sparkling with mischief despite the seriousness of the situation. “come on, let's find someplace less public to hang out,” he suggests, putting his cock back to it's coffin. “maybe we can convince yaga to lighten up once he sees how well behaved we are.”

geto rolls his eyes, his annoyance evident. “he’s being a pain in the ass, that’s what he’s being.” gojo nods in agreement, zipping his pants up and fastening his belt. “but he’s our teacher, so we’d better listen to him for now.”

“he teaches shit, always making us a punch bag with his stupid toys,” you spat. gojo and geto both laugh at your comment, knowing that you’re not exaggerating. yaga can indeed be quite rough when it comes to training. “yeah, he can be a little hard on us,” gojo agrees, running a hand through his hair. “but he’s just trying to make us stronger, you know?”

“whatever,” you wave your hand nonchalantly. gojo lets out a soft chuckle, finding your nonchalance amusing. geto chimes in, “don’t be too upset, princess. we’ll make it up to you later.” gojo took your bag and sled it over his shoulder, along with his bag.

“promises, promises,” you tease, giving geto a playful shove as you follow gojo out of the classroom. the halls are mostly empty, which means you can move quickly without drawing attention to themselves.

as you step outside, the fresh air hits you, cooling your flushed cheeks. “so, where to?” gojo asks, glancing around to get his bearings. he leads the way, choosing a path that will lead you away from prying eyes and towards a quieter part of the academy grounds.

you smile at geto after he pulls you closer by your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze in the process and kiss your shoulder. the raven kisses your cheek before he speaks, “how about we stop at my dorm, hm? continued what we left before,” his voice teasing you making you giggle as you look into his eyes.

a devilish grin spreads across geto's face at his own suggestion, his dark eyes flashing with lustful intent. “mmm, that does have a certain appeal, don't you think baby?“ he murmurs, his voice low and raspy. “but we'd better be quick about it.”

with that, he takes your hand and starts walking faster, eager to reach his dorm room and continue where they left off. gojo follows close behind, his eyes never leaving you as he watches every movement with keen interest.

you laugh as geto starts running, holding your hand, causing both men to join in the giggling. gojo chuckles softly, the sound muffled by the rush of wind against his ears. “seems like someone's eager,” he teases, glancing back at geto with a smirk. the sight of you giggling and bouncing alongside them only serves to fuel their excitement further.

once you reach geto's dorm, he wastes no time unlocking the door and pushing it open. “after you,” he says, gesturing grandly for you to enter first. as soon as you cross the threshold, he closes the door behind you, sealing off the world outside and leaving nothing but the three of you in the dimly lit space.

[guiltyasdave]

one of me is cute, but two though?

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant!f!reader

word count: ~2.5k

summary: Your cat-like mutation gives your life some cat-like qualities... like going through heats.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair but no visual descriptions beyond that, cat-like mannerisms, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, alternating pov, established relationship, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, talk of a potential pregnancy, a smidge of angst because of who i am as a person

a/n: i wrote this as a sequel to help me hold onto you, but it can be read as a standalone. i'm just in love with cat!reader, what can i say.

huge shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality who doesn't even like logan like that, but still patiently listens to me ramble about him nonstop. you're an angel <3

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates :)

Usually, on your days alone, you lounge around in the living room. Sun spills through the large windows, illuminating the space and drawing patterns of light and shadow over the hardwood floor.  

More often than not, Logan comes home to find you curled up on the carpet, dozing in the sun’s warmth, barely awake and slowly moving with its shine as it travels across the room. Your skin glowing, soft breaths purring from your chest. 

He likes to sit down next to you, watching you twitch with the sound of his footsteps. Sleep tends to pull you back under when he reaches out to gently ruffle your hair. He likes to wait until you roll over, bumping into the solid mass of his body. 

Tries to stifle a laugh when you blink your eyes slowly, cocking your head in confusion at the unexpected obstacle in your way. Watches the recognition sinking in and a smile slowly spreading across your face as you sit up. Catches you when you nestle into his waiting arms, a Hey, baby murmured against your lips before they connect with his. 

Nothing is more peaceful than the feeling of your body against him, to be able to run his fingertips over your soft skin while you bury your head in the crook of his neck. It settles in his chest like a weight, an anchor of warmth. The security that you’re his, that you’re safe, right there with him. 

He loves these late afternoons, soaking up the last rays of sunlight with you. Relishing in your slow, unhurried movements, in the way you press yourself against him, in your bright smile between kisses. 

Today is not a usual day. You had been restless as soon as you woke up, your whole body yearning for Logan in a way that is bordering on painful. Your skin is burning, a faintly feverish sensation simmering inside of you, steadily growing as the hours tick by. 

By the time you hear Logan’s car pull up out front, your whole core is aflame with need. The air is thick with the scent of you, so much of you and so little of him. You’ve spent most of the day pacing the cabin, burying your nose in his clothes, curling up on his side of the bed, letting the scent that’s permeating his pillow cloud your senses. It had brought you a brief sense of relief, only for the aching need inside of you to come back with renewed force mere seconds later. 

His nostrils flare when he opens the door, a growl emitting from his chest. You lunge yourself at him without a second thought, legs wrapping around his midst and holding on tight. The steady, blissfully warm embrace of his arms soothes the worst ache instantly. His eyes find yours, pools of darkness reflecting between you. Your breath is going fast, small pants fanning against his lips as you grind on him, desperate for more, more, more. 

Logan holds you with ease, the thought of his biceps bulging sending another wave of arousal through you. 

“Is it time again?” he asks, the deep rumble of his voice traveling straight to your core, stoking the flames. 

You nod, breathlessly, a small mewl escaping when he teasingly bucks his hips into you. 

“Poor kitten.” One hand soothingly scratches the soft skin behind your ears, drinking in the blissful expression on your face that you respond with. “Let’s go take care of you.” 

“Please.” It comes out in a whiny plea, one that pulls at his heartstrings. One that fills him with the instinctual urge to protect you, to give you whatever you need to ban that desperation from your voice. It mixes with his own arousal that’s clawing up his chest, a beast that he can barely contain with how eagerly you welcome it, how you ask for it. 

He keeps you in his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom in long strides. Every time you get jostled by his steps and your core bumps into the growing bulge underneath his jeans, you whine against his neck. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, ripping holes through the flannel and sending delicious pinpricks of pain through him. 

He shushes you gently, tipping your head back up to kiss you again. You respond with hunger, your teeth catching on his bottom lip, demanding more. 

“I’ve waited all day,” you complain, pouting at him between kisses. “Wanted you so badly.” 

He hums, heart clenching at your expression while his cock twitches at the desperate need dripping from your every movement. “I know, baby. I’m here now, don’t worry.” 

Kicking the bedroom door shut without looking, he turns around and pushes you against the dark wood. Trapped between the door and the press of his hips, you whine, hands working  almost frantically to take off his flannel. Logan leans back a fraction, letting you push the fabric down his arms. The scratch of your nails against his bare skin has goosebumps following in its wake. You’re not drawing blood, yet. He can’t wait for when you do. 

The heat of him is all engulfing, wrapping you up like a blanket. Finally he’s here, close enough to taste, to smell, his skin burning almost as hot as your own under your fingertips. You need him, not satisfied until it feels like your bodies are molding into one. 

Urgent fingers drag over fabric, frantically tugging at hems, only disturbed by hungry kisses and panting into each other’s mouths. Ultimately, his bare torso is pressed against yours, muscles rippling under his skin and your fingertips. You lick a generous stripe from his shoulder over his neck, affectionately nipping at his skin, before you find his mouth once more. 

Another groan erupts from his chest, vibrating against your tongue, before he moves you once more. Effortlessly carrying you over to the bed and dropping you onto the sheets, shamelessly staring as your tits bounce with the movement. 

His hands toy with his obnoxiously large belt buckle, your eyes zeroing in on the action as you’re kicking your own pants off. A moan escapes you when he finally pushes his jeans down, taking his underwear in the same motion, his cock springing free before your hungry eyes. It’s a sight that you’ll never get used to. Huge, just like the rest of him. 

He’s back onto you in the blink of an eye, so fast and yet not fast enough with how desperately you need him. He captures your lips once more while his fingers slide down your body. Stopping briefly to toy with your nipples, but quickly moving on until he’s right at your entrance, collecting your slick and rubbing a fingertip over your clit. It’s featherlight, so good and yet not nearly enough. You need all of him, full force, not holding back, smothering every atom of you the way only he’s able to. 

“Logan, don’t tease.” 

Your voice breaks over the last syllable, desperation painting your tone. 

He chuckles out a sorry, so clearly not sorry at all, loving you like this, all needy and pliant for him. Just waiting for the wild, animalistic side of you to emerge, the side that doesn’t plead and just takes.

“What do you need, kitten?” 

Still rubbing soft circles into your clit and greedily drinking in the sight of your writhing, Logan’s other hand possessively curls around your chin, his thumb caressing the corner of your mouth. Tipping your face up, he meets your eyes, your pupils blown so wide that they seem entirely black.

“Need you to fill me up, it hurts so bad, please.” You’re grinding against him, desperate to be closer, to feel every inch of his skin, to finally get him inside of you.

He allows himself a cheeky grin, one that you’re not sure if you want to kiss or slap off his face. “Yeah?” He’s so close, his voice a quiet rasp against your lips. “Want me to pump you full, huh? Give you a whole litter?”

A violent shiver runs through your whole body at his words, your eyes rolling back into your head and your hips bucking up from the mattress. Mewls of please fall from your lips as you reach for him, your grip digging into his waist so forcefully that this time, your fingernails leave deep, red scratches on his skin. 

The pain of it surges through him, flaring up and dying back down as his skin stitches itself back together. He can’t help bucking into you, mirroring your movement. He loves when you turn into this version of yourself, all wild animal, feral to get what you want. 

He can’t deny you a moment longer, not when you bare your teeth at him in a snarl, lost in the haze of your heat. He flips you over like a doll, husks a laugh at your surprised squeal that morphs into a moan when he pulls your hips up harshly, putting you on all fours. A loud hiss escapes him when his cock rubs against your folds. You’re incredibly wet, your slick already sticking to your upper thighs and coating him within seconds. 

“My poor baby,” he coos, a hand soothingly rubbing over the feverishly hot skin of your backside. It turns into a groan when you only arch your back further, your thighs splaying wider apart. You’re putting yourself on full display for him, all needy, all his for the taking. All his.

Sinking in slowly, finally, he grits his teeth to keep from thrusting too harshly into your tight heat. He knows how sensitive you are in your current state, wants to give you time to adjust, to get used to the stretch. It’s not what you want, obviously, as you push your hips back against him, fucking yourself open on his cock. You’re gasping, breaths punching from your lungs, but your movements don’t falter. He meets you with a tentative thrust, chest swelling at the high moan it elicits from you.

“You still want more, huh kitten?”

You’d scoff at his teasing, at the ridiculous nickname, if he didn’t make you feel so fucking good right now. The tension, the emptiness that had been aching deep inside of you all day, finally subsides. A different kind of warmth is building inside your body, slowly spreading through you. Not the burning need that had been eating you up, but deep bliss that is blossoming from your core, now that your body finally gets what it’s been craving.

Reaching back blindly, your fingers wrap around one of his wrists where his hand is gripping your flesh. You don’t have to tell him what you want, he lets go to intertwine his fingers with yours instantly. You feel so safe, so connected to him like this. He bends down, presses kisses into your neck, nips at the skin playfully. 

“Logan… Please,” you whine, desperate for him to hit that spot inside of you that only he seems to be able to reach. “Please, just—”

“I know.” It’s whispered into your skin, sealed with another kiss, before he straightens back up. 

One hand finds your neck in an iron grip and pushes your upper body down into the mattress. His thrusts become deeper, slowing down each time he bottoms out and grinding into you, until you can feel him against your cervix. It’s exactly what you wanted, exactly what your body is asking for. You’re gushing, soaking the both of you with your wetness, your pussy clenching around him in an attempt to pull him in even deeper. 

He growls above you, his other hand wrapping around your hip to steady you. To hold you right where he wants you, as he speeds up, and makes you take it. You’re trying to push back against him, to meet his movements, but he’s heavy against you, each thrust pushing you forward before his bruising grip pulls you back into him. 

You cry out his name again and again, the only word on your mind right now, your whole world reduced to this moment, to him and you. The only other sounds are the wet slap of his skin against yours, and his growls behind you, growing louder with every thrust. Evidence of how the line between man and beast is blurring, how his need is becoming just as animalistic as your own. 

He’s filling you so perfectly, your slick walls stretched around his length, like they were made to take him. Heat, pulsing inside of you, igniting you, blazing through your veins. It has never been like this with anyone else. You’re tightening around him, the fire brightening further, until it’s about to consume you. 

“Logan,” you whimper, knuckles tightening with your grip on the bed sheets. “I’m gonna—” 

He pulls you up instantly, one arm wrapping around you, holding you against his sweat-slicked chest. Nuzzling into your neck, the scratch of his beard almost too much for your already overwhelmed senses, while his hand’s snaking down to your clit, swiping through the mess of your arousal. 

“Give it to me, kitten, come on.” You feel it reverberating where his chest is pressed into your back, feel his breath hot against your skin. 

He’s everywhere, all-encompassing, as the tension in your core pulls impossibly tighter. One more thrust, the angle different than before, and it snaps. You shatter with a scream, your nails sinking into his arm, your whole body trembling while your walls pulse around him, pulling him over the edge with you. 

His own roar is dampened by the skin of your neck against his mouth as he grinds himself deeper, coating your insides with his release. Your hormones spike in reaction, pushing your own orgasm to new heights, until you’re nothing but pure bliss, almost boneless in his arms. 

He holds you tightly, lets the aftershocks slowly subside while he whispers praises in your ear. How good you feel, how well you take him, how you were made for him. How much he loves you. 

Never letting go of his hold on you, he slowly starts moving. Gently maneuvers you until you’re wrapped in blankets and his arms. A kiss on your forehead, another whisper of I love you. 

“Do you think it’s gonna work this time?” 

Your voice is quiet, muffled against his chest where your head rests. He traces your face gently with a fingertip, watches you lean into the touch. 

“I don’t know, baby. Maybe.” 

It’s bittersweet, imagining a family with you. You age slower, but not as slowly as him. God only knows how things would be for a child of yours.

“Picture it, though.” You beam up at him, your eyes shining so brightly that he has no choice but to smile back. “A tiny version of me. Or you.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a reblog or a comment. it absolutely makes my day every time and i'd love to know your thoughts!

[concededlesbian]

can you write hcs of lover girl ellie williams, fluff and smut if you’d like <3

Lover girl!Ellie Modern AU Headcannons

Creds to @angelgbc for the third pic (correct me if I'm wrong though)

Ellie Williams x Female Reader

Content: Fluff and Smut

Rating: Explicit

Proofread?: Could've been if my friend responded to my message (jk I love her)

A/n: The grammar and punctuation is probs really fucking shitty because this is literally me just ranting. This is also my second time ever writing a headcannons list. Also I didn't know if you wanted this to be set in a modern environment or the canon one. I can make another version set canon one tho.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

SFW

Lover Girl!Ellie has craved a relationship since her first crush when she was fourteen.

Lover Girl!Ellie honestly thought she would never find love because she usually drove girls away due to her coming off as dry and uninterested.

That was until she met you.

Lover Girl!Ellie met you by sitting at a table with you in a crowded restaurant. She was waiting to pick up a to-go order and there were no empty tables to wait at. Ellie saw that your table was the most empty because you were the only one sitting there plus you also seemed to be waiting.

Ellie had approached you and asked if she could sit at your table and you smiled and nodded.

You guys sat in awkward silence for like 5 minutes before you broke it by complimenting her Savage Starlight shirt. She looked down at the faded shirt with the phrase "Endure and Survive" above an assortment of characters and groaned in embarrassment. "Oh yeah- I uh- got this shirt in high school it's so cringey."

You smiled at her response and responded with "Well, I think it looks cute on you."

Ellie immediately got flustered because, God, your smile was so pretty and you were complimenting her. Ellie replied with a "thank you?" She then immediately regretted how bitchy her questioning tone sounded.

Ellie mentally scrambled to save face when she saw how your smiley expression fell at her response.

"Sorry, I don't know why that came out that way. Thank you- like for real."

Ellie desperately wanted to make a good impression on you and was about to compliment your smile, but her words got stuck in her throat when her order was called out.

Ellie immediately got up to get her food, but before she walked away, she turned to you and asked if she could get your number. You looked a bit surprised at her question but nodded and took her phone to type your number in.

Lover Girl!Ellie excitedly texted Jesse and Dina that she successfully got a pretty girl's number.

Lover Girl!Ellie wrote about you in her journal for a week straight before you two started dating.

Lover Girl!Ellie found pictures of you from your social media (curtesy of Dina) and proceeded to draw you NONSTOP.

Lover Girl!Ellie finally texted you first and made small talk that somehow morphed into her explaining all her interests to you in depth.

Ellie literally thought she scared you away when she looked back at the paragraphs that she sent but was surprised when you asked her out on a date to the carnival.

Lover Girl!Ellie spent days planning for the date before it happened.

Lover Girl!Ellie who got you flowers on the day of the date.

Lover Girl!Ellie literally wanted to win you so many stuffed animals at the carnival.

She ended up getting you three

And you ended up getting her five

Lover Girl!Ellie playfully rolled her eyes and got defensive when you teased her about winning her more gifts.

Lover Girl!Ellie shut down your teasing by kissing you.

Lover Girl!Ellie asked you to be her girlfriend on the second date.

Lover Girl!Ellie as your girlfriend loves spending time with you.

Like she is all up in your personal space. Sometimes when you're laying on your stomach in bed she'll fully just lay on top of you.

"You're so warmmmm." She would sigh out every time.

Lover Girl!Ellie literally always wants you around.

She's taking a shower? She wants in the shower or in the bathroom with her.

Anytime Ellie's about to run an errand she ALWAYS asks if you can come with her.

"I'm going to the store. Can you come with me?" And all she has to do is pick up a jug a milk.

This girl would literally ask you to come with her to walk to the mailbox.

Don't even get me started on how she acts when YOU'RE going somewhere.

"Where are you going? Can I come with you?"

Cue her rushing to put on her converses and trailing behind you like you have her on a leash.

Lover Girl!Ellie is also a fien for physical touch

Her favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and rest her head on your shoulder while casually talking to you.

She also boops your nose repeatedly when she wants your attention.

Lover Girl!Ellie also "kiss taxes" you anytime she does you a small favor.

She always surprises you with it too.

Like, you'll ask her to peel an orange for you, and as she's handing it to you, she'll say "Kiss tax" and give you a quick peck on the cheek or lips before you can even think.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves kissing you

Lover Girl!Ellie that will buy things that that remind her of you.

"Ellie, why did you buy an ashtray? You don't even smoke."

"The design reminded me of you." She responds with the cutest smile ever.

You have to convince her to just send you pictures of things that are a reminder of you because you're honestly scared for her bank account.

Lover Girl!Ellie LOVES to bring you up in conversations.

Her favorite line is "That reminds of when my girlfriend..."

Lover Girl!Ellie insists on wearing little things that are yours just because she wants a reminder of you everywhere she goes.

Lover Girl!Ellie compliments you so much but gets so shy and awkward when you compliment her back.

Like she'll find anything to compliment you about but the minute you compliment her, she gets flustered and tells you to shut up (lovingly ofc).

"You look so pretty when you're cooking, Ellie." "Dude, shut up I'm literally just cutting vegetables."

Oh yeah, as much of a lover girl she is Ellie will still call you "dude" or "bro" even though you're her literally girlfriend, you are NOT an exception. Those words are ingrained in her vocabulary.

Also on the topic of nicknames...

Lover Girl!Ellie calls you over the top petnames to annoy the shit out of you.

"My pretty sugar plum princ-" "Ellie I swear to fucking God."

But when you give her a taste of her own medicine she gets SO flustered.

You once called her "pretty princess" and she was wide-eyed and speechless

Lover Girl!Ellie loves to share anything she enjoys with you.

If she likes a type of food, she'll want you to try at least one bite.

If she likes a show, she'll want to finish it with you.

Lover Girl!Ellie also writes sweet ass poems about you.

The type of poems that describe you as the joy in her life and compare you to the most pleasant things and experiences.

Lover Girl!Ellie keeps a list of your favorite things/interests in her journal.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves cuddling.

She doesn't care if she's the little or big spoon; she wants to cuddle.

Once again she loves being close to you.

Lover Girl!Ellie also values going on dates ever since she got with you.

Her favorite part about going on dates is planning them with you.

You once canceled a date last minute and Ellie was deadass mad at you for two days.

You made it up to her by taking her to a record store and paying for her vinyls.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves to show you off in public

Lover Girl!Ellie always looks at you with so much love and adoration in her eyes.

Because you're her girl

And, she is yours.

NSFW

Lover Girl!Ellie is obsessed with skin-to-skin contact.

She's so nasty about it too like she loves the feeling of your sweaty skin sticking to hers.

She prefers tribbing or scissoring over using strap-ons.

When she DOES use a strap, she prefers a missionary position because wants to wrap her arms around your body and whisper sweet words in your ear.

Like imagine her thrusting deep inside of you while calling you her favorite girl.

Lover Girl!Ellie is a dom switch in my eyes.

She's so soft though.

She rubs your thigh soothingly while grinding her clit against yours when you two are scissoring.

She runs her fingers through/strokes your hair when she has you on all fours and is thrusting from behind.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves dry-humping you.

It's like top-tier foreplay to her.

Like if things get heated while you two are kissing, she'll start rubbing her clothed pussy against yours.

There are numerous times when Ellie has either cum or made you cum in your pants while making out.

Remember when I said that Ellie will lay on you when you're laying on you're stomach...

Sometimes when she's horny, she lays on you, leans into your ear, and asks if she can use your ass to get off.

If you say yes, she practically fights her pants off and starts rolling her hips on your ass.

Even though you're not getting any stimulation, the sounds of her soft moans and the feeling of her thighs tightening around your hips as she gets closer to her orgasm leave you soaked.

It also doesn't help that Ellie will praise you like her life depends on it.

"Fuck you feel so good, Babe..." "You're such a good girl, wanting to help me cum."

When Ellie to cums, she fully falls forward, her tits pressed against your back, wraps her arms around your body, and moans and pants in your ear as she rides out her orgasm.

Afterwards, Ellie will finger until you're creaming on her fingers because she knows this experience leaves you so fucking horny.

Lover Girl!Ellie loves when you eat her out.

The sight of your face buried in her pussy is one she'll cherish until she's on her death bed.

She loves to stroke your hair and tell you how good you're making her feel

Most of the time eating Ellie out ends with 69-ing because she always wants to make you feel as good as you're making her feel.

Lover Girl!Ellie also loves to plan dates with you when she knows she's fucking you stupid.

Like she's asking you if you want a restaurant date or an outdoor date while her strap is nestled deep inside of you.

When you don't answer her, she says "C'mon Babe, focus." with a cocky smirk plastered on her face.

Then she'll make the strap rub against your G-spot every time you try to answer.

"Mmm, I didn't get that baby."

Lover Girl!Ellie also has thing for overstimulation.

She loves the vulnerability and trust she feels when fucking you and wants to make the experience last as long as possible.

She wants to make love until you're both sore.

When you calm down from a previous orgasm, she rests her head on your stomach, looks up at you, and asks "Can you give me one more babe?"

Obviously, there's a safe word you can both use at any time.

But the look of adoration on Ellie's face as she pushes you to another orgasm is enough to motivate you for another round.

Lover Girl!Ellie always provides aftercare.

She holds you tight in her arms while whispering words of encouragement.

Then she gets cleaned up with you, puts on a comfort movie/show, and cuddles you until you fall asleep.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

A/n: SORRY if this is shit! I literally finished this at 1 am and had a pounding headache. Also sorry for taking a decade to finish a fucking HCs list it's rough out here.

[remotewatch]

handprints, footprints all on my glass

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.6k wc

minors dni please and thanks, this is hag business

summary: it’s a short ride from the afterparty to the airport, theoretically

cw: shameless smut, she comes first 💪, dry humping, dom reader sorta, pathetic simp Jack enjoyers make some noise!!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, we’re degrading him a bit whoops, accidental vabbing (?????) girl idk, reader wears the pants not the panties, they’re in one of those Mercedes vans, wear your seatbelts everywhere but here

The jet lag was undoubtedly winning. As luck would have it, the busiest weeks of the year for you and Jack overlapped nearly entirely. It had been nonstop flights, engagements, meetings, press releases, dinner parties, galas, openings of buildings for charities for either dogs or orphans, orphaned dogs maybe, for so long you’d entirely lost track and were ever thankful that most of your speaking assignments were behind you. This last afterparty had fried you both; you didn’t have a single networking conversation left in you. Collapsed opposite you in the jump seat, Jack looked just as spent as you felt.

Of course, he still looked too good. It was fucking sweltering in that venue, and he had loosened his evergreen evening tie and slightly unbuttoned his dress shirt the very second you were shielded by the limo tint. Faint wisps of chest hair peered out from the opening, a fresh tan making his teeth look even whiter. Gun to your head, he’d had his pants taken in too much at the hips, but you’d never say anything that would threaten such a view.

There wasn’t time for that; you were in the home stretch of this hell month and had a packed 16 hour day tomorrow. One last email once over, and you could abandon your work iPad and pass out for the flight back to New York.

“Have you been like that all night?” he asks tentatively.

“Like what?” There’s no immediate response, so you look up from checking tomorrow’s agenda to see Jack shamelessly staring up your cocktail dress at your lack of underwear. The spell breaks when you recross your legs and playfully kick his shin.

“Eyes up here. So what if I was?”

Jack blinks dumbly at you and clears his throat. His eyebrows draw together out of confusion.

“But I saw you get dressed this morning. Where’s that pair I just bought you?”

“They’re wrapped in your pocket square. Did you forget to switch it out for a dry one before lunch?” you ask, holding back a shit-eating grin.

It’s hard to deny the rush you get watching Jack go pale and fish the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his discarded suit jacket, still sticky from cleaning you up a few hours ago. Sure enough, there’s a crumpled La Perla thong cradled in the middle. You interrupt his stuttering protests when you kick your pumps off and slide a foot up his leg.

“Oh please, like you don’t love walking around smelling like me.”

“I do,” his ears are turning red. “but I hugged like twenty people today!”

“Page six has been trying to pin down that musky “cologne” you use for ages. I think you’re safe.” You briefly wonder if you’re leaking onto the leather seats, but that train of thought is halted by Jack’s hand reaching to remove his tie.

“Keep it on.”

He snaps to attention at the direct order.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I like my handle.”

“Do you come with an off switch?”

Break lights flash on in the surrounding lanes. Just your luck; it’s complete gridlock in the few miles between here and the airpark. Maybe there was a little time.

Your foot slides higher, and Jack hisses through his teeth at the contact.

“Why don’t you try and find it?”

There’s barely a millisecond of hesitation before he falls onto you, licking stripes of sweat off your skin from your cleavage to your cheekbones. As always, he’s loud in the way that only a guy who never gets told to shut the fuck up can be: every breath shudders its way out, and he’s basically whimpering into your mouth by the time he gets there, louder when his right hand finds you, in fact, dripping all over the seat. You doubt you’ll ever get used to how thick his fingers are, or the vulgar noises they make when he’s showing off his grip strength knocking on your g spot.

He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up for the afterparty, but his watch was still squarely in the splash zone, and for the briefest of moments you wonder if it’s as waterproof as the cheaper ones he wears surfing. The thought is quickly pushed aside as Jack works you until you’re jolting off the seat trying to get his fingers deeper.

One good yank on his hair gets him off your neck, and he’s so dazed and fucked out already that you almost cum right there.

“Someone looks hungry,” you tease.

“Fuck, please let me-“ He’s cut off by the van suddenly lurching forward and throwing you both off balance, leaving only your vice grip on his tie keeping him in place. There’s a filthy squelch when he pulls his fingers out to suck them clean as he sinks down to his knees. It’s so warm that your dress is sticking to your thighs, and he rapidly loses patience trying to slide it up to your waist.

“This is a rental!” you squeal when the fabric rips, spraying sequins all over the floor. Jack doesn’t even flinch and wraps his lips snugly around your clit.

“Whatever, I’ll buy it,” he mumbles without breaking contact. You find yourself sliding down the sweat slick leather to grind against his face, and he has the nerve to lean back to watch your hips buck desperately.

“I love when you chase it,” he grins. Without missing a beat, you lock your legs around his head and shut him up against you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. I’m not the one humping the floor like a dog.” The mumbly, docile “sorry” that vibrates through you is the hottest thing he’s said all day. And he really is, if his overly enthusiastic slurping indicates anything. Those rapid, precise little strokes of his tongue always froth you up like he’s got a mouthful of soap. By the time you get tired of spelling your name on his nose and shove him to the floor to straddle his face, he’s completely lathered in you.

He lets out a little bleat of surprise when you roughly grab his hair and start manhandling him as if he’s a wet wipe, though he really should expect it by now. Normally, you’d be distractingly aware of the very real possibility the driver can hear the way you’re snarling his name, but time is not on your side right now. The last break lights recede, leaving the compartment only lit by dim blue under-seat bulbs. Your movements grow more frenzied; you’re totally disregarding Jack’s lung capacity and not even aiming for his mouth anymore, just using his whole face like it’s all he’s made for. Right as you begin to worry you have nothing left in the tank due to the lunch commute, a muffled, drawn-out “please” from beneath you sends you tumbling right over the edge. Your orgasm hits you more like a tranquilizer than anything else as the last dregs of your energy drench his face.

As soon as he feels your contractions lessen, he’s tossing you off to sit on his thighs and fumbling with his belt buckle. The van makes a hard right turn onto the final road to the airpark, and Jack lets out a frustrated groan knowing the clock is ticking. Still, he knows not to get in your way when you shove his hands away and slide right back on top of his dick, so hard you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric. You know you’re fucking up his dress pants grinding on him like this, but if nothing else, the linen will dry fast.

“I’m sleeping on the plane whether you finish or not, so make it work.” He doesn’t have enough time to be pissed at you, and he knows it. The sight of him so desperately rutting up against you is nearly enough to get you there all over again. All the tendons in his neck stand out as he presses his lips together trying to focus. His legs splay frantically in an attempt to ground himself, one jet black Oxford wedging under the jump seat and the other pressed flat against the far window. Jack’s head tips back and his eyes screw up in concentration, but you can’t have that, no matter how tasty his Adam’s apple looks. You loop his tie around your hand one more time and yank him back to earth,

“Uh-uh. Look at me when I’m making you cum.” That’ll do it. His expression softens then freezes as his eyes unfocus and his mouth falls open. He sounds downright melodic when he cums, just one long note that gets bounced up and down the scale before trailing off to a whine, and you relish every little twitch of him spilling into his pants, so far from you but certainly close enough.

The van rolls to a stop, and suddenly it’s a fumbling nightmare of you both trying to fish your shoes out from under the seats and smooth each others hair. You snatch Jack’s blazer to cover the rip in your dress, shove the iPad and pocket square-thong mess into your work bag, and throw the door open with what you hope is a believable amount of nobody-get-between-me-and-my-lie-flat-seat urgency.

Wobbly legs insist you grab his hand to step out of the van, and, of course, there’s a fucking pap pressed to the tarmac fence. Jack’s reflexes don’t stand a chance at turning him away in time after what you’ve put him through. When the flash catches his face, you can only look horrified as it perfectly captures the shine you’ve left on him.

Gossipy headlines and vague, tasteful PR statement drafts are already zipping through your head. Add it to the agenda: 16.5 hour day incoming.

[velnna]

hi, alex! I admire your work very much, your artistic passion inspires me deeply, and so I wanted to ask you if there was ever a time in your life when you constantly compared yourself to other artists? or maybe a period when you couldn't force yourself to draw? and if that did happen before, what helped you overcome it? how did you manage to keep this passion for drawing?

Heya! First of all, thank you so much <3

As for your question, I've been drawing my entire life so yeah there have been different degrees of comparing myself to others, more or less inspiration, etc. My background isn't in art and I spent years barely picking up a pencil just because life had me focus on other things - and that was perfectly okay with me as well!

Ultimately, I stay passionate about it because I'm kind of my biggest fan in a way? I mostly create art as a form of "fanart" for my own characters and stories in my head, and before even thinking about how it looks or how it'll be received I think about how well it translates the stories I want to see and how happy it makes me specifically. I've always done it that way and having an audience for it or not doesn't truly change that. Besides, I'm more of a writer than an artist at heart, so how "good" the art looks compared to other people's art is secondary to how faithful it is to the characters and scenes I've created. It's part of the reason I struggle so much with merch and creating art for printing, it just never feels quite right to create for how it looks VS what it says :'D

I'm also a big fan of just switching context if you're not feeling it. Art isn't bringing you joy (and it's not your main source of income)? Switch it up! Do something else, think about other things, and maybe one day you'll return to it with renewed energy - and if you don't, that's alright too. I didn't draw shit for years while studying but bounced back in 2016/17 and have been drawing nonstop since

Don't know how well this translates into actual advice but alas

[lunatic-pudge]

Scout, Pyro, Demo, Medic, Sniper, and Spy Relationship Headcanons

Can you tell which ones are my absolute favorite:')

Scout

• Unsurprisingly, it takes him a long time to get over his infatuation of Ms. Pauling (I'm 110% convinced she's a lesbian), so you must be basically a deity to be catching his attention (though he'd the type to flirt with EVERYONE)

• Golden retriever energy, also youngest child energy. Constantly wants to do everything for you but also needs constant attention. He's also used to be getting picked on by the other mercs and his older brothers so he'll be going to you for validation. But he also doesn't want to appear weak so it'll take some time to break through his (fragile) shell.

• Love language: physical touch and acts of services. Will be constantly trying to act like a macho man for you but will also beg to hold your hand. Cuddles are constant. He may not be good at being a handyman, but my gods he's gonna try his darndest. Plz tell him that he did a good job, he's trying his best.

• He's the best person to go to if you wanna go on randon and unexpected adventures. One minute you're both in Teufort, the next your across country at the beach up east coast. Poor thing gets yelled at a lot for just uping and leaving without notice.

• Local snack dealer. Ma is always making sure that he's got sweets on hand. His room has care packages from her with some of the most wholesome letters from her and the box if FILLED to the brim with sweets, treats, and soda

Pyro

• My little baby boo, a wholesome partner who would kill for you. Can get jealous very easily so you might have to hold them back from committing manslaughter.

• Love language: quality time and gift giving. Time with Pyro is time well spent. Constantly just wants to be in the same room with you. They don't do well when you're not around. Also loves to give gifts. Most of their gifts consit of stuffed animals and handmade drawings. Your room will be filled with gifts from this goofball.

• In my opinion, they're a lot more there than people realize. Some days are better than others though. They were literally CEO of an engeneering company! And I believe they made all their weapons to but I could be wrong on that. Homie is definitely reliable when they're having a good day, but on the bad days, just sit and spend time with them. You don't gotta say anything, just knowing your right there beside them is enough conformation to know you'll always be there no matter what.

• You two are little troublemakers. You'll constantly be up to no good with them. It seems like harmless fun, but you've both almost burnt down the base five times just this month!

Demoman

• Probably one of the best lovers you could have out of all the mercs (aside from Engie, they're competing for the number one spot). I'm deducting points cause of the nonstop alcohol consumpution. :(

• But he is a happy goofy dunk so thank gods for that. Always happy to be here. Very attentive, caring, cuddly, overall a good person to date or even just be friends with.

• Cause the constant alcohol ruined a good portion of his memory (and Medic as well), he writes down every little detail of you that he can in a little journal he secretly keeps on his person. Important dates, likes, dislikes, ect. The man has it on file in case of emergencies.

• Love language: gift giving and act of services. He works three jobs and makes over 5 mil a year, he's LOADED. He's gonna buy you the world if you ask. Definitely good at money managing so he never worried at how much gifts cost. He's also gonna try his darndest to help you out with any problems, though it can be a bit hard when you're constantly drunk. Hims trying his best, okay?

• Wants his mom to approve of you but knows how critical she is of him. Poor baby has some self-esteem issuses cause of her so please give him lots of love and support. It's hard when your mom never has anything nice to say about you and compares you to everyone else. It's a neverending struggle. :(

Medic

• You're definitley into weird and questionable people if you like this man, and that means we're best friends now. :D

• He will ask you to help him out with surgeries and organizing his lab. You're hims little nurse. He'd probably (absolutley) be getting you a nurse outfit with his symbol on it.

• He's very much the possessive type. What's his is HIS, no if, ands, buts, or questions about it. Would put a tracker in you so he knows where you are at all times, but someone would have to talk him out of doing it... for now...

• Constantly talks about you to his birds, if any on them ever have babies, he's naming one after you. Would get you a stuffed dove plushie to cuddle with at night when he can't be there with you

• Love language: physical touch and quality time, you're ALWAYS welcomed in his lab, in fact, he expects you to be there with him. Is the type to ask you to grab something and will graze his hands against yours when grabbing it from you. (then give a shit eating smirk afterwards) He'd also be the type to stand VERY close to you, and stand behind you in an intimidating way to keep others from talking to you.

Sniper

• This man is my all time baby boy so I have LOTS to say about him and how much I love him :')

• Is someone who takes a while to get close to, especially in a romantic way. He's just a shy little boy who's used to being alone. But isn't introverted, just has introverted tendencies (you literally see him hanging out with some of the other mercs in Expiration Date)

• Love language: words of affirmations and physical touch, he sucks at verbally saying how he feels about you but will leave cute little love notes around for you to find. He's also VERY touched-starved so he will just flat out lay on top of you if you let him. Loves hearing you say how much you love him, plz just hold his hands and say how much he means to you, he might just cry from it.

• Is also someone who goes on random adventures, but they're usually just out and away from everyone. But I could see him taking you to a zoo or aquarium to look at the animals. But you're not allowed to go to a Humane Society cause you'll be walking out with all the animals they have and raising them like they're your babies,

Spy

• Another gremlin who takes a long time to warm up to you. He's a grumpy old man who's never really been with someone in such a serious light (aside from Scout's Ma)

• Love language: gift giving and words of affirmation, another merc who would buy you the world if you asked. Will only buy you the best of the best and will throw hands with someone if it's not up to his standards. He could go on about his love for you. His words sound like poetry. You'd wake up with a bouquet of roses and one of the most beautiful love letters anyone has ever read.

• Is 50/50 on PDA, he'll wrap an arm around your waist, call you beautiful, and give you a peck on the cheek in front of others but that's about it. Any extreme PDA is to be in private or you're getting a scolding.

• Would definitely help you learn French. He's way more patient with you than anyone else. You've seen him yell and insult every merc a couple times (Scout getting the brunt of it), but he refuses to ever say anything negative about you

• Definitely the bragging type. He'll put you on a pedestal and go on about how gorgeous you are. How you were crafted by gods, and so on. He thinks he's better than everyone else so if you're with him, than you're right up there with him.

[aikrus]

"You're haunting me."

i don't think aizawa would let you go easily, and i'm probably not gonna do anything with this

"I love you," he breathes like that explains it all.

You step away and it's so natural these days that you don't even shake.

"I don't know what to do without you."

He's grabbing your wrist, tight but tender and you can feel the sparks traveling from the tips of your fingers straight through your ill stomach.

Looking at him, you can tell just how genuine the words are. He's a mess, glossy eyes and red, patchy skin. His lips are cracked and he seems breathless, he seems desperate.

You've seen him like this before.

"We can't keep doing this," you shake your head and plead he'll understand; but you know better. It's been nonstop in this give and take of yours, as foolproof as the water cycle.

"We can do this," he insists, but there's no point. His grey eyes spark with life and promise and hope, and despite the grimy streets he stood on Shouta was- without a doubt- beautiful in a radiant holy manner.

Last time, you think receiving that look along side the gentle stroke of his thumb across the inside of your wrist was enough.

"I can't."

You don't look at him- refuse to in fact and the tightening of his grip solidifies your resolve.

His breath hitches, it's a rare thing and hurts all the more. "But you love me. And you know I love you too."

He says it like it makes sense, like in this situation that's all that should matter. Still, too many nights were spent awake and in fear.

You knew too much, after the first time you kept seeing through more and more of this glamour he draped over you like a blessing.

He'll keep pushing. He'll never stop if you don't end it here and it's itching at your heart.

"It's not enough."

You wait a second and settle your stomach easily despite the acid rushing up your throat while hiding behind your closed eyes. "You're not enough."

He lets you go. It could be over, but seeing his foot step closer you figured it may take a little more- he's the type to need to draw conclusions by himself.

You rip your now free arm away from him and stumble back. He looks shocked and hurt, and people are starting to not so subtly group together and watch.

"You're a ghost, Shouta; my own personal monster to terrorize my every breathing moment. I wake up in the morning gasping for air and sleep each night so sure I won't open my eyes again."

You feel tears start to rush and let them flow without resistance. If he sees the way people look at him now he might let go a little easier.

"My phone rings and I'm shaking in fear, and I watch my words even though I know it wouldn't matter." He looks at you with a new layer of shock and maybe horror, though after a second it seems like nothing more like disappointment and regret.

You'd thrown the wire's he'd dispersed around the room that morning. He must've thought they'd be harder to see than the cameras, but your lover was known to underestimate you.

"I can't keep living like this." You look in his eyes clearly now, letting the grim expression filled with heartbreak etch itself uselessly in your memory.

He may not believe you yet, but you square your shoulders and speak directly: "I won't live like this."

It sounds like a threat and a small thrill travels up your spine when it becomes obvious he took it as one. Shouta looks positively devastated at the thought of you being harmed in any way, you supposed being upset was harm in a way.

You've had this feeling, and you swear on your soul that it's true, that if you didn't get out now you might never be able to.

"You're haunting me," you insist with one last tear, "and I think it's time to pass on."

You walk straight ahead- straight towards him- and brush past without looking his way. He lets you go, and that's more than you expected from him.

You took step after step with baited breath held in suspension each block. The farther you got the more you were sure; it was your time to be a ghost. You'd disappear, and you'd never have to think of the monster you found-and fell in love with-in Hosu ever again.

[loweya-blog]

Mc a dying angst and fluff PLEASEEEE mc dies in front of the cast get judged which takes a decade or so and and makes it to the celestial realm ands like "damn ig Im here now" after a few days or so of hanging out with the angels tells demons that the dearly beloved human had made it to the realm and the demons instantly starts trying to make preparations with Michael trying to start up an another exchange program so they can see mc again

IDK IF YOU CAN TELL BUT I LOW-KEY HATE SENDING REQUEST ITS SO EMBARRASSING TO ME😞😞😞 anyways i spent my time pondering this one sorry for any spelling mistakes I'm really sick rn and im kinda sorta dyslexic-ham

No worries hon! Here's your request, I hope you like it ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Renewed Hope

The House of Lamentation was silent, as it had been for many many years. Each of the brothers had closed themselves off into their respective rooms and hobbies after classes had ended, isolating themselves from each other. Lucifer kept himself busy with constant paperwork. Mammon ran himself dry at the casino. Leviathan huddled in his rooms, playing endless games and watching anime nonstop. Satan separated himself in his room and consumed every new book he could get his hands on. Asmodeus partied day in and day out. Beelzebub focused on sports and eating while Belphegore lost himself in endless sleep. These routines they'd fallen into had kept themselves sane after your passing. When the anger and sorrow and tears faded away, leaving nothing but the empty hole in their souls with nothing to fill it.

Your monument sat in the graveyard, strictly maintained and cleaned but each of the brothers had their own private monument to you within their rooms. For some it was a shirt or an item while others had drawings or writings of yours. They would even add little offerings to you, as though you could receive them somehow. Anything to make the sting of your passing just a little bit better.

The moment you had died was right in front of them. Right in front of their eyes. Solomon immediately jumped to cast any of his life-saving spells on you while the rest of the group desperately tried to hold on. Even Thirteen refused to reap you right away in a fragile hope you could be save. But.... it was no use. Your body had died and though the soul remained, Thirteen knew she couldn't delay any longer or else you'd end up lost to the winds. The deep sorrow stuck each like lightning as they realized.... you were gone. Possibly for good.

But they still kept your words close in their hearts. When a brother was feeling down, they'd help each other out and listen to them. That sense of family you had created, though bruised, was not gone. And they'd fight any damn fool who tried to change that.

Meanwhile.... You were having the worst afterlife ever. The stupid judges couldn't decide if you were to be sent to the Celestial Realm or to the Devildom. It was obvious you hadn't done anything to deserve eternal torment but it would be just as cruel to send you to the Celestial Realm away from the majority of your family. Purgatory wasn't an option either since it would just send you away from both.

How does one give a human a perfect afterlife when they have family in both?

While they had their stupid discussions you were stuck for a WHOLE DECADE sitting on that stupid bench and playing tic tac toe with any sucker who was behind you in line. Eventually the judges relented, realizing that they couldn't make a pick so they drew straws, excluding the purgatory option. You got lucky, or unlucky depending on the perspective, and got sent to the Celestial Realm.

The moment you arrived, you felt your body become light as two little wings popped out from your back. All around you were beautiful grassy fields of the celestial realm and the soft warmth of the sun and lovely skies. As you wandered the field, heading towards the collection of white buildings and pastel structures in the distance, you heard someone's familiar voice.

"....MC?" Luke's little voice called out.

When you turned, you saw your precious angel with eyes wide and full of unshed tears.

"I-is this really you?" He asked, reaching out to see if you weren't some wonderful dream.

When you nodded, he embraced you and cried his little heart out. By the time he finished with his tears, Simeon had found you both. Simeon's eyes widened with realization and tears fell from his eyes. He embraced you, his hands shaking as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"W-we thought we had lost you." He whispered, his voice fragile with the weight of a decade's patience.

Eventually both freed you, after an hour of hugging and led you over to the celestial realm's town. Both were alert, as if afraid to let anybody try to take you away from them again. Luke was mostly just excited to introduce you to all his angel friends and show you all their shops and buildings and everything the Celestial Realm had to offer.

You got your own room, properly met Michael who welcomed you with warmth, and relaxed for a few days. Yet through your sleep, your mind lingered on the brothers and the others from the Devildom. You missed them dearly but had no way of returning to them, as all your stuff was still in the House of Lamentation. A few days had passed and you convinced Simeon to message the others. He reluctantly did, and was bombarded by hundreds of questions and demands to hand the phone over to you so they could at least hear your voice.

Each phone call was full of crying and sorries and words of love. Lucifer and Diavolo immediately began working on a way to bring you home. The best solution was the exchange program. Meanwhile Solomon, ever the clever snake, just casually broke into the Celestial Realm so he could see you, giving no care to the regulations that normally governed such a realm. He held you tight, not wanting to ever let you out of his sight again.

Michael was more than happy to add you to the exchange program on the terms that you would use the chance to learn how to be an angel from Simeon and Luke while there. After accepting these terms, you return to the devildom.

Mammon was the first to greet you, having stayed up all night for your return. He tried to act all tough, but after a soft smile from you, he broke and rushed in for a hug. Each of them welcomed you with tears and tight hugs that almost crushed you. From then on..... you realized they would never let you leave again. No matter where you went or what you did, they would always love you and find you.

The End.

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[shitty-skyblings-doodles-daily]

helloooooooo guys it has been a very very rough day for me mentally I spent about three hours crying nonstop and now I’ve been on again off again for about half an hour (literally all my own fault btw. I’m the most overdramatic bitch to ever bitch and my brain refuses to comprehend jokes nor allow me to properly communicate my emotions. yippee! /sarc)

as such, have some low effort little bugs because they make me feel a little better. goobers. behold them

bugs when you lift up a rock frfr. Pearl in this drawing delights me. look at those big ol bug eyes.

[draculasfavoritewife]

Hunted

Summary: Tatooine is a planet filled with old ghosts, and when one of yours rears its ugly head again, your Mandalorian takes matters into his own capable hands.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and minor OC death at the end. Allusions to hunter/prey roleplay and bondage, my voice kink makes a couple of cameo appearances. I the writer was particularly thirsty for Din Djarin the day I wrote this and thus take full responsibility for the results.

This is really one of the most blatantly self-indulgent things I've written, born of many long daydreaming sessions and my love for any episode where my man rubs elbows with the delightful and despicable denizens of the OG desert planet. I truly can't explain it, Tatooine Din™️ just hits me different, so please enjoy this very long fic about it.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

You step into the crowded main street of the city, taking a moment to let all of your senses adjust to the stark difference. The last week or so has been spent on the ship in a cold vacuum, the gleaming blur of hyperspace and the steady thrum of engines a constant gentle halo in the background. It was nice, if a little quiet for your personal taste. Your partner certainly doesn’t talk much, and you tend to spend much of your time alone with him less conversationally inclined as a result.

He’s rubbed off on you that way. 

Now the twin suns of Tatooine scorch down on you from above, making eyes that have become accustomed to soft darkness sting. A throng of street vendors, lowlifes, and ne’er-do-wells streams through the ragtag market on all sides, moving bodies chattering nonstop in floods of Basic, Huttese, Aqualish, Droid, and snatches of more exotic tongues. 

A moment, and you feel yourself suddenly at ease again, as your brain resets back to your old lifestyle in the Core Worlds. It feels like putting on a well-loved shaak-leather coat that remembers all your contours just right. 

“You look happy,” the Mandalorian observes from beside you. 

You always wonder about him, how he's actually faring under that helmet, so shiny in this harsh light that you come away with spots in your vision after glancing at him too long. Din walks with the easy confidence of a man that’s walked these alleys many times before, but you know him more personally than most. He’s a quiet man under that shell, one who vastly prefers his solitude and finds the company of most beings in the galaxy a soul-stealing chore after two minutes. 

And unlike you, he never relaxes. 

“I am.” You side-eye him, briefly admiring his prowling stride as he diligently scans the moving figures surrounding the pair of you. “Sometimes I really like big crowds.” 

“You’re crazy,” he remarks. “This many people add too many variables.” 

“Your comment stands.” You draw closer to him in order to reach into the satchel slung across his body and ruffle the Kid’s long ears. “But to me, it’s almost easier. I can usually read people’s intentions pretty well. Bodies speak louder in crowds.” 

“I suppose.” He hasn’t stopped his surveillance yet. You can guess at how his eyes are darting here and there beneath the visor. He probably has at least two escape routes planned out already, if not more. 

You want nothing more than to tell him to relax and enjoy himself — you’re not even here on hunter business, simply to refuel and stock up on supplies before your next run — but you know that’s a useless endeavor. 

“I found that strangely hot, by the way,” you say instead, since it HAS been taking up space in your mind for some time. 

“What?” 

“Finding out you speak Tusken. That’s VERY attractive.” 

It was. When he had to negotiate with the scouts on your way into town, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your stomach at hearing his low, smoky voice bark out the harsh sounds as he supplemented his meaning with crisp sign language. 

And besides the sound of it, you certainly find it very hot for a man of his stature to be so willing and ready to communicate and settle fraught situations peacefully. 

“I — what — I don’t — ?” 

It still makes you grin, how easily flustered he is when you catch him off-guard with flirting. 

“Don’t you think so, Grogu?” You poke the Kid’s tiny nose. “Isn’t it attractive when your buir talks like that?” 

The little one squeals enthusiastically in response, probably more to your teasing than the actual question. 

“Stop that, don’t encourage her.” Din casts a disapproving look first at the Kid and then at you; it strikes you as funny how well you can translate such a simple tilt of the helmet. “And don’t you ask him that, he’s just a kid.” 

“I think you’re blushing under that bucket,” you smirk, sidling away. 

“I’m not.” 

You subside with the teasing for the time being, and the Mandalorian releases a sigh of relief as you start wandering, letting handmade jewelry and stoneware snatch your attention away from him. He’s getting better at keeping up with your rapid changes of interest, but somehow your more romantic moods still manage to get the better of him when you’re out in public. 

He blames the environment. When it’s just the two of you alone, he can see what’s coming in the slant of your lips or the way you suddenly decide to plant yourself right in front of whatever he’s working on. And he’s almost as likely to initiate now, so long as the Kid’s not in the same room. But out here, as his field of vision constantly shifts in the sea of bodies, and his right hand drifts between Grogu in his satchel and the pistol at his hip, he just doesn’t possess the bandwidth to also process what the kriff could possibly turn you on so much about his language skills. 

He tucks that particular piece of information away in a metaphorical corner, to dissect and possibly use at a later time. 

You return to him after your little side trip, flirtation seemingly forgotten for now. “I saw a ring at that one booth —” you gesture over your shoulder “— that I’m almost positive is dolovite. So pretty. I’m not even sure the vendor knows what he’s got. It’s tempting.” 

“I bet.” He notes the tone of your voice, the way you glance back one more time as the pair of you move on. 

“But we are here for the essentials, first and foremost. Maybe if it’s still there by the end of the day.” 

He nods thoughtfully, and listens as you ramble through the list of what the three of you need, both in terms of provisions and to keep the ship flying. 

The sooner you’re all able to leave this crowd and noise behind, the better. 

He doesn’t care for the feeling that his little clan’s safety isn’t completely under his control. 

Hours later, stewardship of the satchel carrying the Kid has passed over to you. Din carries the day’s purchases, slung from either end of the pole balanced across his wide shoulders. He watches affectionately from behind his immobile visage of beskar at the sight of you spiritedly haggling with a Twi’lek vendor over the price of fruit. The arm not being used to illustrate your point cradles Grogu, half-asleep, close to your torso, and it touches something deep inside him, to see you care for his foundling so naturally. 

The image almost — almost — lulls him into something resembling a dangerous sense of peace.

Almost, but not quite. 

Which is why, when the blaster bolt narrowly misses your shoulder and instead blows a crate of produce into a violently sticky explosion, he’s only a half-second slower than he normally would be as he pivots sharply and yanks out his own weapon. His shot drops the sniper leaning out of a second-story window across the street, a Rodian crumpling to the ground in a tangle of ragged cloak. 

His armor-clad body is positioned in front of you in another second, keeping you and the Kid sandwiched between the booth and his beskar as he rapidly searches for any more guns to rear their ugly muzzles. 

The market has dissolved into chaos around you, but no more fire is heard. 

You slip your DL-44 out of your back holster with one hand and push the satchel carrying Grogu further out of the way with the other. The road had cleared in seconds, the trembling fruit vendor ducking down behind his wares. The atmosphere is suddenly quiet, too many people holding their breaths all at once. 

“See anything?” you whisper to Din. 

“Negative,” he mutters back. “He was acting alone, or else the others have retreated. Looking for heat signatures is useless, they’re everywhere here.” 

A grim suspicion starts to rise in your chest, but you keep your voice removed as you step from behind him and give him a sharp nod. “Cover me? I need to take a look at our shooter.” 

He stalks behind you as you cross, your trigger finger settling into its well-worn spot in readiness. Grogu is silent; only the tips of his giant ears poke up from the top of the bag. 

For a kid, he’s been in enough firefights to know the drill by now. 

Arriving beside the smoking form of the Rodian, you flip him over and push aside the cloak, your hand drawing back when you see exactly what you were afraid you would find. 

The sigil of a sand ape emblazoned on his jacket in red. 

“Talk to me,” Din urges, voice tight. “Do you know why he was targeting you?” 

You straighten up and bite your lip for a second, struggling over the best way to break the news to him. You’d thought it was long enough ago that old scores would be forgotten, but on Tatooine, grudges rarely die, instead simmering deep beneath the filth like a krayt dragon awaiting its next meal. 

And now you’ve unwittingly brought your riduur and his ad’ika into danger. 

“I lived in Mos Eisley for a bit at one point.” You sigh. “And I left under…difficult circumstances. I’m a bit of a loose end as far as a local gang is concerned, Din. They paid well for some mercenary jobs — it was a nice temporary setup. Last hit I was hired for turned out to have a Guild bounty on him though, and they paid more to have him delivered alive. I saw a business opportunity and didn’t look back. But I made some powerful people here pretty angry.” 

“Dank farrik.” He curses under his breath. You can nearly hear his exasperated thoughts — can’t I have ONE uneventful outing? Just ONE? — but he shakes it off swiftly and is soon all business again, his next query clipped and brusque. “Does he have a tracking fob?” 

You shake your head. “They don’t want Guild here anymore, if you recall. No, it’ll be a more intimate affair, I’d bet my blades on that. This is about revenge and closure; if there’s a reward payout it’s from the boss man himself, and probably only advertised by word of mouth.” 

The Mandalorian refocuses his thoughts from where they ever so briefly derailed at your casual misuse of the term “intimate affair” and grunts his acknowledgment. “I gather the boss man wants you alive, then?” 

You laugh, a dry, ironic sound. “Oh, he will. I have a feeling he wants to watch me suffer a bit before he kills me. Or who knows?” With a shrug, you shove the body into an alleyway and return to where you both left your purchases, only the dance of your tense fingers across the grip of your blaster giving away your readiness to protect yourself. “Maybe he’ll make me his own personal slave instead. I knew all that club dancing I did would come in handy someday.” 

Din makes a hissing sound of annoyance at your flippant tongue as he follows. There’s something about the way you can talk so carelessly about such degrading fates that truly distresses him. He knows you don’t need his protection on the same level the Kid does, but the thought of either of those options actually befalling you under his watch makes his hands clench into fists, leather gloves protesting as they stretch across his knuckles. But he knows too, that dark humor is often your way of dealing with stress, so he endeavors to let it slide and not see red. 

“Do you know where he is?” he demands suddenly. 

“The boss man? I used to. And there are people I could ask.” You take the satchel with the Kid off and hand it back to him, opting to take the parcels instead. He can fight with a baby strapped to him better than you can, and knowing you’re the primary target this time, you’d rather keep him safer. “Why?” 

“Later.” His voice has gone tense again, he must have seen something you don’t. “Right now we have to get out of here. You’re too exposed.” 

Your gaze falls on a nearby speeder bike with no obvious owner nearby. “They’ve gotten lax without me around,” you smirk, straddling the bike and revving its powerful engine. “Leaving their valuables all helpless and unattended. It’s a real shame.” 

The Mandalorian is staring at you, the drop of his shoulders suggesting surprise at your brazenness. 

“Get on,” you encourage him, laying the carrying pole across the seat behind you. “You’re getting twitchy, so there must be trouble. What’s got your cape in a twist?” 

He takes a seat behind you and settles his pulse rifle across his knees. “There’s a couple more in similar jackets closing in,” he reveals in an undertone. “And I just haven’t seen you…steal a vehicle before, is all.” 

A shot pings over his helmet before you can properly react to that. 

“Drive!” he orders, pivoting to return fire. 

You oblige, gunning the motor and tearing off down the main thoroughfare. “There’s still a few things you haven’t seen me do, Cyare,” you toss back as he dusts one of the gang members on your way past. “You and the Kid made me go soft.” 

He huffs doubtfully and nods to a narrow opening between buildings up ahead. “Can you get us out of sight?” 

“If you hang on tight enough.” You execute a tight turn at the last moment and shoot down the alley, glad the bike is compact enough to follow the cramped tunnel between the crumbling dwellings. “It’s gonna be rough ’til we’re in the open, though.” 

Din doesn’t answer in words, but his free arm wraps around your waist and you can feel the Kid’s small body tucked between the two of you. 

And it’s almost an oddly pleasant feeling, outrunning any would-be pursuers with the two of them held so close. 

By the end of the hour, supplies have been loaded into the ship and Grogu has been left in the doting care of Peli, who as always is more than happy to entertain the little guy as long as you and Din keep trouble far away from her repair station. You and the Mandalorian are now camped out on a rooftop overlooking the marketplace, a tattered fabric canopy mercifully providing some scant relief from the sunlight if not the oppressive heat. As always, your riduur appears totally indifferent to such a thing as physical discomfort, leaning out from under the awning to scope the street below through the sight of his rifle. 

Does his armor have an internal cooling system? Or are Mandalorians really just that tough? 

“You know, we could just leave,” you finally suggest. “It’s not like this particular group ever goes off-world.” 

“We could.” 

You can tell there’s a reason why he won’t. 

“But I return to Tatooine semi-frequently. And I don’t want you to constantly be looking over your shoulder every time.” 

You sit back with a sigh, idly tuning up your blaster. His ways are still foreign to you sometimes. Before your partnership, you made a life depending on adaptability and quick thinking. Having only yourself to worry about, and knowing there was no one else out there worrying about you, made it easier to simply uproot and go elsewhere whenever the heat was on you. 

Din is nearly the opposite. If there’s a way he can make things more secure for those in his care, if there’s a good enough reason, he won’t ever back down from a struggle.

He already has his mind made up. 

It’s just a bit jarring to realize that you’re the good enough reason this time. 

“What are you thinking, then?” you prompt. 

He doesn’t break his focus on the area below as he answers. “I’m thinking I just killed a couple gang members and got some interesting information out of them. I’m ex-Guild and looking for work, and being a ruthless mercenary, I might just be willing to turn on a crew member if the price is right.” 

You can’t help your sudden intake of breath at his ingenious plan. “And once we get there?” 

He finally turns to face you, his next words cold and hard as tempered beskar. “Then we kill him.” 

And there’s something a little bit more menacing in there than simple pragmatism. He has taken on the role of cabur for you and the Kid; this isn’t just about keeping trouble off your backs in future. 

Someone has threatened you, and he will not rest until that threat has been put down.

That is his duty, and he will not shirk it. 

“I love you,” you murmur, barely above the hot breeze that rakes through your hair. 

He rises to his feet, shoulders his rifle. “And I you. Which is why we’re going to have to make this look convincing. You get a two-minute head start. Whenever you’re ready.” 

You swipe a dull sand-colored cloak from a stall as you pass, immediately diving into the heart of the throng, which seems to have recovered from the earlier incident. Mos Eisley is nothing if not desensitized to crime and violence, and for a moment, you almost lose yourself in awe at the apathy of the average citizen as you let the flow of movement carry you along. Nobody cares what happens around here, so long as it doesn’t happen to them. 

It’s…odd, to remember how it felt to think that way. 

Shaking yourself back into the moment, you weave between beings of all shapes and sizes, focusing on making yourself forgettable and not appearing in too much of a hurry. You know Din will find you no matter where you end up — he’s just too good at his job not to. So for the moment you let yourself enjoy this little game, a moment spent as the quarry of a very desirable predator. 

It would be a lie to say you haven’t fantasized about this before. 

A ripple passes through the crowd to your left and behind you, people shifting to make room, like river currents split by a large stone. Only one person you know could possibly cause such a stir.

Only idiots choose to stand in the way of a hunting Mandalorian. 

Which means he’s here. 

Your heart accelerates and you try to think of a way to stall him just a little longer. Reluctantly pulling a few credits from your belt pouch, you regretfully let them scatter in the dust, knowing the only thing that reliably beats fear is greed. The people nearest to you devolve into pushing and shoving in their eagerness to get their hands on them, a writhing wall springing up between you and your pursuer. 

With a grin, you slip backwards, drifting in the opposite direction of where you had been headed before, catching the barest glimpse of sun glaring off metal as you pass. 

That's a little longer. 

He’ll expect you to be thinking the way he thinks, not the way you do, so you stamp down the inclination to think that way and instead travel into a seedier part of town, seeking out more raucous company. Wandering through cantinas and gambling dens, you pick up a refreshing blue milk along the way and almost start to let the tension ebb from your muscles. But when you see him emerge from the street and gaze through the window of the same building you were just about to exit, your adrenaline shoots up again. A dash through a maze of alleys and one stolen ride on the back of a droid rickshaw later, and even you aren’t so sure what part of the city you’ve made it to. 

The twin suns are finally beginning to sink lower in the sky as you thoughtfully chew on a piece of bantha jerky and walk through a crowded residential section, no doubt where the lower classes live. It’s much quieter here, the low-income strata not having the credits to spend on frivolities at the market. 

It’s almost…too quiet. 

You hear him before you see him, an almost deceptively musical clink of the explosive charges on his belt against his vambrace as his arm brushes past. There’s nowhere to run anymore, so you pull back your hood with an admittedly dramatic flourish and discard your savory treat, hands sliding to the twin vibroblades sheathed at your thighs. 

“So, its finally come to this, Mando.” You pull your knives and take up a fighting stance. “No use in trying to sweet-talk you out of this, is there?” 

He doesn’t answer, just pulls his own blade and gestures with his chin as if saying “Try me”. 

So you do. 

The pair of you has sparred many times before, and this altercation is brief but outwardly brutal. Finesse is nice, but necessity calls for any potential advantage to be pressed and pressed hard. For the agility your much lighter choice of clothing grants you, you can’t dent him when fully armored, so finally you resort to simple but effective tactics and throw dust in his face. 

Even a visor with a heat sensor takes a second to recalibrate from that. 

You do, however, have a scripted ending for this outing, and as you sprint off, his grappling cable snakes around your hips and down your legs, dropping you in the sand. He strides up to you, tosses a pair of binders down next to you. 

“Cuff yourself,” he orders, breath coming in heavy pants after your scuffle. “I’m taking you in.” 

And since it’s him who just captured you, who would have captured you eventually no matter what because he’s just THAT good, you don’t mind. 

No, you reflect as he hefts you over his shoulder and walks away from the few scattered spectators your fight drew out, you really don’t mind this arrangement at all. 

Maybe you’ll have to tell him that, later. 

Your former employer’s headquarters are still where you remember them, and you almost smirk at the sense of uncomfortable familiarity when Din lowers you to the floor and unties your legs. Still cuffed — and a bit tired after spending the afternoon trying to outwit the best hunter in the parsec — it’s not difficult to look angry and beaten down, kneeling there in the dust. 

The boss man rises from his seat at the table, a hulking Devaronian with a chipped horn and a hungry grimace. He swaggers over, nods at the Mandalorian standing behind you. 

“I suppose I can turn a blind eye at the loss of a few good men for this. You have absolutely no idea how this one little troublesome scavenger has been occupying my thoughts.” 

Din remains silent, simply holding out a hand, a wordless demand for payment. 

Your old boss grins, nods to a couple of lackeys to bring over the credits, hauls you to your feet by the back of your shirt. 

The Mandalorian’s hand brushes past your leg as you move, and one of your knives is quietly returned to its sheath. 

“Since you turned tail and ran so quickly after disobeying me, I assume you have some idea of what I do to clever little turncoats, don’t you?” sneers the Devaronian, leaning altogether too close for your liking. 

Your cuffed hands lower in seeming fear as you shrink beneath his intimidating glare. 

“This is going to be fun,” he threatens, a hand drawing up your neck and along your jaw. “You need to learn some respect, and I’m going to —” 

The vibroblade sunk deep into his chest cuts his words off rather suddenly. 

There’s a lot you can still do, even in binders. 

The outraged lackeys are swiftly dropped by precise shots from Din, and the two of you are left gazing at each other in a now oddly quiet room. 

“I don’t know if I’d call that ‘fun’," you remark to your limp ex-boss, crouching to retrieve your knife. “A little anticlimactic, actually. Bit of a shame I had to do that. But also satisfying to see your plan turn out so well, don’t you think, Mando?” 

Din doesn’t answer right away, tucking away the bounty that he earned by catching you. “We should be on our way,” is what he finally grunts. “There’ll be more gang members swarming this place any minute now.” 

“I agree.” Rising to stand in front of him, you hold out your arms expectantly, casting a flirty smile up at his dark visor. “And, much as I enjoyed being your prisoner for a day, you can let me go now.” 

There’s a long pause. 

He stares down at your bound wrists, up at your face, down at your wrists again. He appears to be pondering something very intently, and your breath turns a little choppy for some reason. 

“I don’t think I will,” he says simply, after a little more consideration. 

“You won’t?” 

“Not yet.” His large hands tenderly find your hips, and he throws you over his shoulder again, walking out the exact same way you came in. “You’ve caused me quite a day here, you know. Keeping track of you like this might be the only way to make sure we don’t run into any more trouble.” 

“What would happen if I screamed ‘Help, I’m being kidnapped!’ as you carry me down the street?” 

He snorts. “No one’s going to help you here, Cyar’ika. Who’s going to challenge a Mandalorian over his prisoner?” 

You smirk. “No one in their right mind.” 

“Besides, you just said you enjoyed this.” There it is, a sly edge to his filtered voice, the indicator that he has more going on in his mind than simply staying out of more trouble. 

“Oh no, caught by an attractive bounty hunter! I’ll probably never see the light of day again.” You groan dramatically and drape yourself a bit more comfortably as he loosens up into an easier stride. “I’m completely at his mercy — who KNOWS what devious things he’ll do to me behind closed doors?” 

“This bounty hunter is hot and tired, and in need of a shower, if that gives you any consolation.” 

“Ah.” You poke him in the back. “Are you saying you’re all sweaty under this shiny shell, Cyare?” 

A hand slides up the back of your thigh, a subtle reminder that you ARE currently at his mercy, as you just said. 

Undeterred, you try again, knowing he must be getting more riled up than he lets on. “Have I ever told you how much I like it, when you take all these awful layers off for me and you’re all sweaty underneath…?” 

“I would rein in my suggestive tongue a little, if I were you.” He’s still looking straight ahead, but the edge beneath his words is a bit more strained now. “If you behave for me until we get back to the ship, maybe I’ll even take those binders off.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

He sighs. “My belt compartment back there. Take a look.” 

You manage to get it open, and can’t quite stifle a delighted sound as you pull out the dolovite ring from much earlier. “You sneaky son of a — ! How — ?” 

“I gave you a two-minute head start,” he shrugs, by way of explanation. 

“I adore you,” you inform him as you slip the ring onto your finger, admiring its burnished color. “I’ll be a good little prisoner for you, Mando, I promise. And who knows…,” you nudge him again. “Maybe I’ll let you keep these binders on me after all, since you’ve been so good to me today.” 

He can’t find anything to say to that, but by the fact that you can see the flush creeping up the back of his neck in that tantalizing gap between cowl and helmet, you know he’s definitely sweating now, if he weren’t before. 

“Is my big bad bounty hunter at a loss for words?” you tease softly. 

He clears his throat. “Just saving my voice, Mesh’la. If you’re REALLY well-behaved, I might — possibly — be persuaded to talk Tusken to you later. Possibly.” 

The idea takes a moment to fully crystallize in your brain; Din, and a shower, and binders, and if you just stop teasing him so naughtily in public he might actually bring that unreasonably provocative language into the bedroom? 

You finally let yourself relax into his hold, and after a bit you hear his breathy sigh of relief that you aren’t going to keep tormenting him anymore for the moment. 

After all, he has put forth an offer you can’t refuse. 

Ad'ika = Little One/Small child

Cabur = Protector

[t00thpasteface]

i've spent two nights in functioning ac at my grandma's house, and my house just got power back today, but i still feel like my brain fucking shriveled up into a raisin just slow-roasting like a gas station hot dog from sunday through wednesday (and then for a good chunk of thursday due to housework and errands). i was sweating profusely and virtually nonstop, including while i slept, for over three days, and i was so exhausted and overheated, i could barely even eat, let alone cook! all i've been doing the past day or so is just pounding back electrolyte drinks and taking long naps. i can't even think my way through a drawing... it's hard for me to form sentences when i'm speaking out loud... idk, i don't have any zingers or articulate takeaways for this. i've just had such a stressful, grueling, mind-numbing waste of a week and i'm so ready to just have one single day where absolutely nothing happens!!

[regencygossipgirl]

Nic's 2024 photo dump (Part One)❤️

Omg, you guys, I finally have time to properly post, and I’m literally levitating—what an absolutely beautiful, chaotic day! The delulu levels were completely off the charts, and there was just no containing it. I’m still reeling, like… I can’t believe it actually happened.

It felt just like the early days all over again—living the world tour in real time, getting hyped over every single piece of content, hearts fluttering nonstop, all the endless theories, and just that good energy floating around everywhere.

I’m just so, so happy.

Looking like an actual goddess: waist snatched, long hair, body bodying, and the polaroid!!!

Is the croissant picture from Italy? Paris? So many questions, and even more questions after that.

And here’s the star of the night: Nic and Luke proudly (well, sort of) showing off the drawings they made of each other. You know, the one where Lukey spent a totally normal amount of time finding just the right shade of blue to draw Nicola’s eyes? Yeah, that one.

And can we talk about the little box at Nicola’s feet and her sandals? 🥹 Absolutely adorable.

One of my absolute favorite looks from the world tour—and I just have to mention the polaroid again.

Now, what is this?!! I try to keep my feet on the ground (you know, to avoid breaking every bone when the inevitable fall happens), but why is Luke tagged in this picture? Rue, when was this? Where??

I looked it up, and these kinds of plates are typically for domestic use, and honestly, they scream Nicola, don’t they? Was it her house? An interview? A restaurant?

I know this part one is prob from Jan to Jun, but, omg, in Colin’s voice: I NEED TO KNOW!!

And then there’s this one. I thought it could’ve been from May, around the NY Bridgerton premiere, June when she shot the Kate Spade campaign (also when Luke was on Jimmy Fallon), or October for the Time 100 Next event.

Since Luke is actually tagged in the post and we know Jake went with her to NY in October, that left me with two options.

It was confirmed recently, thanks to some BTS from the Kate Spade shoot, that Nicola was in NY in June after the London premiere (and, of course, those pictures), around the same time Luke was on Jimmy Fallon. When I tell you my delulu was off the charts… I have no clue if they saw each other or if they had a conversation… Around that time, the Deuxmoi pic of Nicola at the airport came out, so… who knows? Either way, just keep in mind, we’re talking June, and now it’s December. Also, we didn’t see them together at all during the summer.

So, I’m thinking it was for the NY Bridgerton premiere, and either Luke took the picture or she tagged him because of the Bridgerton billboard.

We don’t really know what’s going on between them, but even though I usually stick to reality, today I let my imagination run wild. I haven’t felt like that in such a long time. Nicola posted 20 new pictures, and they were so real—just her being herself, not the perfectly curated celebrity stuff. It made me so happy.

This year has been huge for Nicola, and I really hope she’s proud of herself because I sure am. I love and admire her so much, and I’m always here to cheer her on every step of the way.