#I’m too embarrassed to tag it properly

[basement-buddy]

[picnicbask3t]

GIVE !! GIVE US TRICKSTERHERALD DRAWINGS !!

OKAY OKY 😭😭😭😭😭 I CAVE I CAVE

.. take these … two .. 😭

[cable-salamdr]

[Another buzzer noise that sounds slightly different] WINNER!! Tbf this post is not very old (4 months now?) however my posting habit means it got buried fast

The things seeing one funny post will compel you to draw… Anyways. The babies! The queerness is real in these ones.

[sttoru]

your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.

satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.

though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.

you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.

he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.

satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.

it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.

he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.

careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.

satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.

it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.

“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.

you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.

in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.

you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.

you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.

your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.

satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.

“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”

again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.

“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.

no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.

the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.

“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”

your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”

you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.

you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.

“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.

he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.

the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”

satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.

it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.

“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.

you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.

no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ too hot to handle (송민기 ♡ s.mg)

your neighbor has more to give than you bargained for.

style: bullet drabble pairing: non idol!mingi x fem!reader word count: 1.8k tags/warnings: smut, pwp, light fluff, neighbor!mingi, fem!reader, big dick, like monster cock level she can't do anything with it, sub!mingi, like super sub, dom!reader, teasing, praise, heavy use of good boy/perfect boy etc., makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, face riding, lots of dirty talk, dick on clit action, controlled orgasms, edging and overstim, eventual piv notes: this has been on the brain for longer than i could ever tell you so hopefully it's a fun one x

[masterlist]

The problem with your neighbor isn’t that he’s hot. It isn’t that he’s funny and charming, and it definitely isn’t the crush bubbling between the both of you. Those would be normal problems, problems you tell your best friends about. 

The problem with your neighbor is that his dick is too big. 

You find that out at the same time you find out this giant who lives next door to you with the deep voice and a penchant for calling you “pretty girl” is actually not the dominant you assumed he would be.

Mingi is actually shockingly, surprisingly submissive. 

And you shockingly, surprisingly, love that more than you ever could have guessed. 

You figure that out while you’re straddling him on the couch, and when you roll your hips just right you feel the impressive hardness of him and hear the neediest whimper you’ve ever heard from a man at the exact same time. 

It takes you thirty minutes more of making out and shedding clothes for you to get a good look at his cock, and when you do it grinds the whole almost-fuck to a stop.

And -

“I know,” He breathes, his eyes softening, “it’s okay if you don’t want to keep going.” 

You blink at him, unable to hide the trepidation in your eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to try,” 

“It’s okay,” He sounds dejected, but also like this has happened to him before and that fills you with nothing but sharp determination. 

“Hang on,” You lay a hand over his bare chest, still straddling his lap, the impressive length and girth of his cock standing between you. 

“Listen,” He sighs, “I get it,” 

“Mingi,” You interrupt him, “I’m not kicking you out,” 

“You’re not?” His eyebrows raise. 

“No,” You smile, “I do think we should maybe… work up to things,” 

“Of course,” He rushes to agree, his hands sliding up and down your bare thighs. 

“It’s just,” You grimace, “I haven’t had sex in a long time, like a really long, kind of embarrassing amount of time,” 

“That’s okay,” He soothes. 

“I’d be lying if I said I thought I could take you,” You sigh, “but Mingi, I’d really, really like to work up to it,” 

“Yeah?” He grins like he just won the lottery. 

“Uh-huh,” You swallow a little nervously, “just maybe not tonight?” 

“Right,” He nods, “anything you want,” 

“Is that okay?” You check, sliding closer to him, his bare cock brushing against your abdomen. 

“Okay?” He nods, “Of course, it’s… I mean, I like you. I want to do whatever you want, that’s what I want,” 

He’s a little flustered, still walking a nervous line like you might change your mind, or he’s worried about coming on too strong, and you take him in for a moment. 

Somewhere inside, you find the boldness to ask the question you’ve wanted to ask since you heard his first whimpered moan, “Mingi,” You murmur, “is that what you’re into? Doing what I want?”

His eyes flick over your face, but you don’t miss the way they darken up at the idea and he nods, “If you’re into that,” he says, “but I can take over if you need me to,” 

You wonder how many girls have begged him to be more dominant. How many girls have pushed him to go to a place that isn’t entirely comfortable for him, when he clearly wants the opposite. 

“I’m into that,” You tell him, “don’t worry,” 

You both click together like kinky little puzzle pieces, and despite the fact that you’ve never had his dick properly inside you, you’ve been having sex for weeks. 

You get creative. 

Mingi and his giant cock seem to love nothing more than making you feel good, especially when you use his big body to get yourself off. 

The first few times you hook up it’s the basics, getting to know each other, getting to know each other's bodies and what makes each other tick… but by the fourth time? The fifth? 

The fourth time you’re a horny mess, probably a breath away from ovulating and ready to climb his tall ass like a tree, and so all the hesitation you’ve had about being too much for each other flies right out the window. 

With him pinned to your bed you ride his thigh like it’s a pillow, barely looking at him as you get yourself off, and when you’re done all he can do is beg you to do that again, but on his face. 

He whimpers when his tongue first slips inside your folds, when he feels the weight of your body sink onto him. His hands grip your ass and between sucks and moans he begs you to ride him, to fuck his face and never stop. 

With your hands on the headboard you take it just like before, eyes closed, head thrown back, your moans spilling out into the room . 

He comes untouched that time, ropes and ropes of his hot cum painting his chest and stomach, panting apologies into your thighs, and that’s when everything changes. 

Now you tell him when to come. How to come. Where to come. 

You discover that he loves to be edged and you love to be overstimulated. 

A perfect combination of opposites. 

You make him beg for things, ache for things, his cock leaking against your lips as he whines. 

“Please, please, just a taste, just a lick, please, god, please,” 

And sometimes you let him have it, but most of the time you don’t. 

He seems to like that even more. 

Mingi and his big cock have found so many other ways to get off that you almost never want to give into having him inside you, because what if your dynamic changes? The anticipation is the delicious part, the denial, the almost-almosts. 

The way he begs when he’s on his knees between your splayed thighs, his shaft rubbing against your slick folds, sliding over your clit - that’s when you almost break. 

“You f-feel so good,” He shudders, thrusting his hips slowly back and forth so that his cock slides up and down your aching center. 

“Mm,” You sigh, relaxing into the mattress, “good boy,” 

His cock twitches at that, “Thank you, thank you,” 

“Go faster, baby,” You beckon him down with a come-hither motion, “fuck me like you mean it,” 

He freezes, “I-inside?” 

“Did I say inside?” You counter. 

“No, no, of course, I’m sorry,” He stumbles past that assumption and shakes his head, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You nod, a silent push to get him to move faster, and he scrambles to comply. 

He braces himself over your spread form on the bed, your hips slotting more tightly together, and then he braces his forearms on either side of you and starts to thrust. 

“Faster,” 

His hips speedup. 

Every brush of his shaft over your swollen clit makes you want to writhe and moan beneath him, but keeping control is the fun part for him, so you stay focused. 

“That’s it, baby,” You brush your fingers through his shaggy locks, “such a good boy,” 

He moans, but keeps the pace. 

“Mm,” You sigh through an almost moan, “baby, your cock feels so good inside me,” 

His hips jerk, a stammered groan on his lips. 

The tease was meant for him, a reminder of where his cock isn’t, but heat spreads through your belly at the idea of what he might feel stretching you open for real. 

“Say it,” You open your legs wider, angling your hips to get the sensation right. 

“Your pussy feels so good,” He pants. 

“Don’t stop,” You direct him again. 

“So tight,” He whines, “so wet,” 

“More, baby.” 

“S-so perfect,” He shudders, his eyes tightly closed, “thank you for l-letting me fuck you,” 

“Oh,” You murmur warmly, “that’s my good boy.” 

He chokes, his thrusts getting harder, a relentless rut of his wet cock against your dripping pussy and you bite down on your tongue at the impulse to beg him to fuck you for real. You’re dizzy, orgasm drunk, and your nails dig into his hips to hold yourself steady. 

“Please,” He pants suddenly, eyes flashing open to find yours, “please, may I come?” 

You’re too close for that, “Hold it, baby,” 

His expression tightens in tense control, “P-please,”

“I’m close,” You tell him, “hold it,”

Tears prick at his eyes and you feel the wet string of his precum on your belly, but he listens. 

A moan pulls free from your chest then, your pleasure fast approaching, and you breathe in hot fits and starts. 

“Come on my cock,” He begs, pleads, “I’m so good for you,” 

Your orgasm crashes into you sideways, the relentless stroke over your clit sending you into pleasured little shakes. 

“Please, I c-can’t, I can’t hold it,” He fists the sheets, his voice a thready wet pant. 

“Come,” You give him all the permission he needs, “come inside me, baby, fill me up,” 

He shudders, thrusting hard twice more, and with groaning moans he spills his release all across your belly, spattering you both in hot cum. 

He’s shaking, trembling, but you run your fingers through his hair and soothe him soft like always. He’s your good boy, your perfect boy, your most obedient boy. 

In the aftermath, when you both come down from your messy, full body pleasure, you find each other in the sheets. 

With kisses across his knuckles you nuzzle into him. 

“Next time, I want you for real,” 

He’s hesitant at first, but you’re ready, you’re sure. 

The next time, you play softer. You’ve learned each other so well, but this time it’s your turn to be vulnerable with your body and he doesn’t let you down for a second. 

It’s a slow process, full of sweetness and foreplay. He’s learned how to make your body sing over weeks and weeks of hookups, and he knows he can make you wet enough, relaxed enough to take him. 

The stretch is achingly delicious. 

And once he’s finally inside you for the first time, your bodies connected in every possible way, you realize he was worth the wait. 

And you fit together in more ways than one. 

As it turns out, your boyfriend’s big dick isn’t such a problem after all. 

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Drunk Mistake- Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky kinda messes up when he pushes you off of him when you try to kiss him at a party

Word count: 1, 321

*want to be tagged in my next Bucky fic? Click here*

Bucky wasn’t really that close with Y/N, she was more like an acquaintance, sometimes a friend…. Oh who was he kidding! He was pretty much in love with her! Every time she talked to him, he felt like he was in heaven, and at parties like this it was even worse.

He’d been watching you laughing with your friends, dancing with the girls and ignoring the advances of fellow agents. He’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame, that his eyes can’t help but always find you in a room.

He enjoyed seeing you have so much fun, and there was no harm in keeping an eye on a friend. But once you began to dance again, Bucky knew he had to get out of there.

The way your body moved to the music was becoming too much for him. Your skin had a light layer of sweat, and the way you bit your lip and your eyes found his, he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he stuck around.

His plan seemed to be working as he sat in a quiet corner on one of the top landings, but as he saw you sauntering over to him, your shoes now missing, he knew he was in trouble.

“Hey, James,” you say with a cute drunk voice.

As you sit beside him, you swing your legs over one of his thighs, and hold his hand. Your other hand comes up to run your fingers through his hair, the alcohol in your system obviously making you more touchy than normal.

Bucky tried hard to shift his hips so you wouldn’t feel how hard you were making him, your sweet touch burning a fire in him.

“Why you hiding up here, baby?” You ask sweetly but seductively as you stroke along his cheek.

Oh god don’t call him that. The sweet pet name going straight to his hardening dick as he painfully swallows a moan.

The pet name really did get his attention, as he now properly faced you. His eyes flicker from yours to your chest, that you push out further as you become more and more brave. He licks his lips as his eyes find yours once again and you bite your lip as your touches now become even more forward.

Pushing yourself onto his lap, your fingers now dig into his hair as your face slowly comes closer to kiss him.

This is what Bucky has dreamt of, what he stays up at night fantasying about. God he wants you so badly, but he can’t, not while you’re drunk, not like this.

It takes every ounce of restraint Bucky has to push you off of him and back onto the couch. As he looks at you to explain, he sees a deep hurt in your eyes, as tears begin to well. Suddenly his words are lost, and his heart aches at your saddened state, and all he can do is walk off, leaving you there.

******

It had been a couple days since the incident at the party, and you could not have been more mortified. When you woke up the next morning you remembered everything, and ever since then you’ve been avoiding not just Bucky, but everyone.

You’d escape to the training trails around the avengers compound most days, literally running to escape your problems.

As you reach the summit of one of the hardest trails, you don’t notice that Nat had followed you up there. Catching your breath, you turn to sit down when Nat’s sudden appearance scares you half to death.

“Fuck sake, Nat! Scared the shit outta me! Were you following me?” The run seeming to give you more adrenaline than the endorphins that you hoped for.

“Okay something is definitely wrong, you’ve never yelled at me like that before. What’s wrong, sunshine?” Your friend asks, her once cocky smirk fading away.

“It’s, it’s nothing, I’m sorry for going off at you,” you try to push past her, but expectedly she didn’t let you.

“No it’s not nothing. I’m your friend, you can talk to me,” she tries to coax soothingly.

Looking into her eyes you knew you wouldn’t win. As you let out a big sigh you go back to sit on a large rock.

“It’s-it’s a little embarrassing, but um-heh. So at the party the other night, I-I tried to kiss James.”

“Finally! Wait tried to? What happened?”

“Well,” your eyes start to tear up as you remember the way he treated you, “I guess you were wrong about how he felt, because he pushed me off of his lap and left without a word.” You manage to push out, tears fully running down your face now.

Looking up you see a seething fury on your friends face.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Nat announces assertively as she runs off.

“Wait, Nat! No!” You panic as you try to run after her.

*****

By the time you make it back to the compound and find her, you’re mortified to see a troop of your female friends surrounding the poor super soldier.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nat berates.

“Y/N, is hot as fuck!” Yelena defends you.

“You’d be lucky to have someone like her and you just push her away!” Wanda rages at him as a red glow begins to appear on her hands.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! Thank you for coming to my rescue and I love you all but maybe it’s time to leave so we can talk,” you manage to calm the situation before Wanda could blow him up.

All three women look at you, then glare at Bucky before filing out of the room.

As you look into Buckys eyes you see they’re full of shame, and the embarrassment and self doubt begins to flood back.

“Hey, look, um- ignore them. You don’t have to apologise, I understand why you-“

“They’re right,” Bucky interrupts your self loathing rambling, “I would be lucky to have someone as wonderful as you and now I’ve ruined my chances with a beautiful woman.” Bucky sighs as he looks at you shamefully.

“What?” You ask, shocked and a little nervous at his confession.

Walking closer, Bucky stands before you and slowly looks into your eyes.

“I really like you and when you wanted to kiss me I got scared. You were drunk and I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I mean I wanted our first kiss to be special, as stupid as that sounds.”

Smiling up at his handsome face, your confidence returns with a fury as one of your hands holds the back of his neck, and the other squeezes his bicep. The contact makes Buckys eyes go wide as he looks at you.

“Well, would in the kitchen while I’m covered in sweat and my friends just yelled at you count as a special first kiss, or should I wait for you to dazzle me with fireworks and roses?” You cheekily ask as your face comes closer to his.

Buckys arms wrap around your waist as he chuckles.

“Just kiss me already,” he answers cheekily as his lips push heatedly against yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as Bucky holds you tightly, the kiss filling you with excitement. The excitement however turning into announce as you hear your friends clapping and cheering, both Kate and Maria now joining their gang.

“Shut up and leave!” You laugh at your friends as Bucky awkwardly smiles.

“Okay but remember Tony has security cameras so no fucking in the kitchen,” Natasha sasses as the girls finally leave you both alone.

“Well there goes my plan,” Bucky cheekily and seductively whispers as he begins to kiss your neck.

“You know, James, I still need a shower.”

The idea of a shower with you causes Bucky to groan against your neck.

“Fuck, doll, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for that.”

[satoruhour]

LAUNDRY DAY

a/n: I AM ALLIVEEEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 sorry i had a crazy week! can be read as a standalone piece but based off gojo’s roommate au of here and here / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody ☆

wc: 4k

warnings: sub!gojo that turns into dom!gojo, fem!reader, fantasising? gojo is a pervert too, mentions of semi-public sex, implied somnophilia, panty sniffing, pillow / dry humping, m! masturbation, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, praise, pet names, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

living with you was hard. brushing his teeth with you was hard. being around you — hard. both figuratively and—

there’s a loud sigh from you.

clearly tired from the day’s activities of ushering in freshman after freshman, you lugged your body into the bathroom. the same rehearsed words have been leaving your mouth as your cheeks hurt more and more by the hour, only to repeat it all over again the next day.

“you look like shit,” it’s muffled by the way the toothbrush is stuffed into his mouth, foam peeking out from the corners of his mouth and you’re trying not to tell your roommate (and boyfriend) to shut up — you didn’t have the energy to do, much less say anything and you certainly didn’t have time for your lover’s clever quips so late in the night.

it didn’t help that you recently had an argument too; well, trivial to him but much more major to you. it was a matter of getting gojo to keep his laundry properly and to clean up after himself once he’s gotten himself comfortable in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t want to — he was cleaning up in the first place to impress you — but now since he’s got you, it’s like he simply expects you to act as his little wife when it was a shared space. the exact argument you used against him.

“satoru— this is a shared apartment! you can’t just leave tteokbokki cups lying around with the gochujang sauce still inside! it’s going to attract cockroaches and ants!” you gesture wildly, the sheer amount of trash lying around making you even sicker than you thought possible. getting paid to usher in freshmen and then coming home to this? it felt like every cent of your hard work had gone to waste.

there’s only a grin on his face, “you’re so attractive when you’re mad, baby.”

that was another thing: the lack of seriousness that gojo possessed at times, simply talking to piss you off, simply living to be the bane of your existence. “and you’re fucking unbelievable, gojo satoru. clean up— or don’t,” you made sure to lace that last word with venom, “i don’t care.”

that seemed enough for gojo to snap out of his stupor, “no, no— princess, fuck, i’m s—” his brows furrow when he briefly spots the thickening glaze of your eyes, possibly filling with tears before you’re marching into your room to slam the door and he swears to himself. satoru had never felt embarrassment and shame and sadness like that day; having just taken a shower but his skin was sweaty and uncomfortable and his heart sat right at his feet.

gojo swears he never wants to hear you say his full name ever again.

since then, it’s been a little tense between the two of you. geto had noticed it on movie night, shoko realised you haven’t been looking at your phone as often. hell, even prof. yaga had to tell you that you were distracted way too much lately, and it’s only been two days.

satoru tried to possibly take back what he said with whatever powers he didn’t possess, but he only gets another sigh from you as you squeeze the toothpaste out and start brushing your teeth, not even sparing him one glance in the mirror.

and yet while he was the first one to start his nightly routine, he’s left to be the last again from the way he’s unable to stop staring at you, a recurring trait of his whenever you were in the same room with him. it’s a testament of how attracted he was to you — at how his shirt slips off your shoulder from how big it was because even when you were mad at him, you forgot about that little detail. gojo’s eyes trail from your exposed shoulder to your legs and back up again to your fatigued face. he skims over the shape of your eyes and down to your nose and he thinks he’s the luckiest man to be brushing his teeth beside you now, blessed with seeing such an intimate side of you even if it’s as simple as this.

until gojo’s eyes fall upon your mouth as your toothbrush is doing its job of perfect innocence, cleaning some teeth, scraping off the bacteria on your tongue, except when you’re switching it from side to side all your roommate can think about if it was his dick instead. and the thought leaves him as fast it comes.

all you do is shoot him a weird look through the mirror when gojo exclaims like he was a vampire whose skin burned under the bathroom lighting, and he regains composure with ease.

“i’m fine! fine. doing a-okay.” satoru speaks through the foam and it’s spraying everywhere and you’re too tired to care before you hear another gulp when you move your toothbrush again, “sorry! sorry— continue please.”

gojo is starstruck for an entirely different reason, now, watching the toothbrush making bulges at the side of your mouth as it moves in and out and he’s left to fantasise about the many, many times you’ve gotten him in you and the warmth of everything. he can feel himself get hard under his sweatpants when you start brushing your tongue and you gag and he wants to die standing in this 30 square foot bathroom because the last thing he wants to do is sexualise something perfectly mundane.

gojo isn’t like that (well, most of the time. can’t blame him for finding you smokin’ hot).

“what the fuck is your problem?” you’re speaking through your foamy mouth now, spitting it out and proceeding to clean up with no clue of what you do to him. satoru on the other hand — terribly excited that you’d even open your mouth to talk to him after two days of endless silent treatment. 

“nothing, baby. it’s nothing, i promise.” you can’t lie at the way your heart jumps at the familiarity of it all, of being in such proximity to your lover, doing domestic things like these and the ‘baby’ and yet your pride is holding you back on everything.

you go straight to sleep, too, not wanting to entertain anything related to gojo satoru and you feel just a little bad when he looks at you with those baby blues and a sweet pout on his face. he looked especially pathetic in the bathroom, like a deer caught in headlights at just the presence of you and you want nothing more to apologise. it’s never that easy, though; you needed a promise, you needed the reassurance that he wouldn’t be leaving you to clean up after him again.

all these worries are willed away when you finally fall into slumber in your own room, body craving the warmth of satoru unknowingly. you had stolen a pillow the day before and it’s been the sole source of his scent, the only thing to keep your mind sane.

gojo’s heart drops again upon seeing you already deep in sleep, thinking he had a chance to catch you before you did, but the needines for you never goes down even now. he cannot take his mind off the way you’d run your hands through his hair or tangle your legs with his, satoru’s limbs recall the memory of you playing with his fingers and how you like to curl your arms around his neck. 48 hours is enough for him to go insane, and also maybe at how your leg was propped up on his missing pillow, hugging it so tight to your chest. you hadn’t bothered to wear pants either, so all he can see is the shape of your cunt under.

he stalks into the room and kneels in front of you, finger so tempted to run along your folds and make you wet, staring a whole minute and weighing his options until decides he doesn’t deserve it, turning away and closing your door softly.

“going now, satoru.” it’s soft when you mumble it, not even wanting him to hear before you’re stopped. you’re donning the uni orientation shirt and eyebags, a soggy sandwich from yesterday staining your bag with its smell. “what?”

“made you somethin’,” gojo’s cute like this with a frilly apron and hair band, still managing to tower over you despite the adorable get-up he’s got on, “it’s a bento.”

and you wish you could just melt the pride that runs through your bones and kiss him all over, and you break just a little. a small smile and you walk up to him, grabbing the lunchbox and pecking him softly on the cheek, turning away fast enough to not catch his fangirl moment — because you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it on time if you did.

“we still have to talk later when i come back, okay?” you call out as you put on your shoes and you steal one last glance at him, “and today’s laundry day. you know what t—”

“yes ma’am!” gojo salutes and you roll your eyes with a small smile, locking the door behind you with heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. it was difficult not to break when it came to satoru, when he’s trying so hard to win back your words and love, and so tonight you’ve decided after the tiring week is when you’d finally stop running away over such a small matter.

although, gojo got caught up in something way beyond your expectations even if he had his initial intentions (which involved ordering your favourite takeout and kneeling at the front door in apology). 

your roommate lays around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and heading to the back room, a little extension attached to the kitchen with a tune on his lips. it’s clear he’s a little driven by your little innocent peck, a sign that maybe you weren’t so mad any more. for the next hour, satoru is contently doing the laundry with a smile, until—

the panties you threw in before showering must have fallen to the bottom of the pile, the same one he saw you wear last night and he thinks maybe the low humming buzz he heard last night wasn’t his imagination because when he picks it up he can smell your arousal. there’s a stain from the previous night and another pool of juices from this morning and he now knows that it wasn’t the kettle.

“dirty girl,” he grins, “both yesterday and this morning?” he’s thought about this for the longest time, always holding himself back because you found him weird enough even before you were dating, always letting you do your own separate load for your undergarments. but since you’ve gotten together, you were more comfortable, throwing it into the same laundry basket — the compulsion has never been this strong before.

gojo puts it up to his nose and smells like the pervert he is, among other times: teasing you with a hand down your pants when the two were over at your dorm, fucking you in the kitchen as they focused on the movie, pounding into you with the windows open, and he almost ascends at the scent of your pussy juices. there’s a spark that goes down right to his core and he palms his bulge unconsciously, coming to his senses when the washing machine beeps.

he impatiently puts in the settings and leaves, heading straight for your room and is hit with all reminders of you. the perfume you used this morning and the body wash you share with him, walking almost under a trance to your bed where he moans at the softness of the sheets as he falls face first. it doesn’t take him much to scoot to your pillows, but the need for you is just too much.

gojo grinds his cock into the bed, whining softly as he whiffs up your natural body smell, hips moving on their own accord as he manoeuvres a pillow between his legs. he humps it like a dog, groaning and moaning and the strain on his dick is just too much, balling up the undies in his hand and his body tenses at the friction. 

“baby . . f-fuck—” satoru’s voice is high-pitched and choked, all the thoughts of you culminating into one big ball of desperation for you and he cums in his pants, tainting the fabric a darker colour than before. but he’s not done — his hips still move against the pillow, thrusting into the fluff as he rides out his orgasm, moans muffled by the pillow. “miss you . .”

gojo misses you more than anything, feeling so much distance even within the house that he flips over — by now the sun shines its golden rays a little less. the afternoon is winding down into a cool evening — and pulls at the waistband of his pants. he’s still sensitive, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and pumping and the sound that leaves his mouth is borderline slutty. with another smell of your cunt, he strokes his dick, using his cum as lube.

“oh . . r-right there— mhnng . .” satoru’s hips buck into his hand, squeezing and thumbing at his cock before unbundling your panties and wrapping them around his shaft. the sight drives him insane. sure, it’s one of your more everyday underwear, neutral in both design and colour but he can feel the fabric get wetter and wetter from how much cum he’s pushed out earlier and that’s enough to keep his hand pumping. “s-sweetness, cummin—”

gojo’s head makes a dent in your other pillow from how hard he was pushing it, back arching at how the warmth in his hand will never compare to your mouth or pussy. he can already feel his second orgasm approaching, your room filled with the squelch of his cock and his sounds and he shoots his load with a drawn out moan all over your panties and his stomach. his cum is always so much, dripping down his pelvis and onto his hand and also . . yours?

your boyfriend lets out the girliest scream you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, scrambling up to the headboard when he sees you hovering over his body. he accidentally kicks your chest in the process and you have to clutch it with a small “ow”, although a small smile is still present on your face.

“having fun?”

“dude, what the fuck?” 

your smile drops, “dude?”

gojo suddenly has his hands moving frantically, “nonono— no, sorry, i meant baby!”

you sigh, sitting back down on your heels as you take in the sight: his still hard cock and the sweat lining his body. his bangs are wet and your eyes flit down to your soiled underwear.

“uh . . i was just borrowing it,” gojo nervously chuckles, handing the cum-filled panty to you and your brows furrow.

“darling, you can’t just give someone back their clothes with your come on it.”

and your boyfriend pouts again, “i really am sorry. and for everything else, too. for not cleaning up and for being a general bum,” this is why you also (sometimes) favoured his unseriousness when you were talking about difficult things. the amount of times you had succumbed to his touches and kisses when you were mad at him was much better than your pride. gojo brings you onto his lap like his dick wasn’t just out, and you relish in the closeness you’ve missed.

“i need you to show me you mean it, ’toru,” he lights up at the nickname he loves just as you point a finger in his face, “aht! calm down. don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again.”

“i will try,” gojo is smooth, taking your hand into his while the other brushes the hair away from your eyes. you lean into the touch, “and i will try until you see my efforts.”

you smile at his honesty, “and i’m sorry for ignoring you as well. it was childish of me.”

gojo hums, bringing your face in to plant a kiss to your lips, “i missed you like crazy, princess.”

you laugh, “yeah i can tell, i miss you too.” you gesture to all of him and he whines softly at the joke, squeezing your waist.

“you’re not weirded out?”

his breath hitches when you move down his body and situate yourself between them, finger tracing his tip and teasing him, “why would i be? i’ve literally fucked myself wearing your shirt.”

gojo gulps loudly, “you did w-what?”

“i’m just better at not getting caught.” all words are taken from his lips then, when your mouth engulfs him and the feeling of it is just pure insanity. gojo pants and his thighs tense, a hand gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it from interfering. his eyes fixate on the way your suck him off, recalling the last time he’s watched you do that was in a damn bathroom. 

“y-your mouth—” satoru swears under his breath when you swirl your tongue around his shaft, the tip of his cock making bulges on the side of your mouth and it only leaves him calling out your name time after time.

“y’know,” you gargle on him, slurping up his cum, “i know what you were thinking starin’ at me last night.”

gojo snaps his fingers and mumbles out a shaky damn, because he can always be read like an open book. he just didn’t know he was that obvious.

“looked cute staring,” you mutter around him, “like a little puppy.”

you slap his thick length on your tongue, moaning when you feel just how heavy it is, “you just wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”

gojo whines at your words, nodding, and you go back to the abuse on his dick, bobbing your head up and down as your hand plays with his balls. the other moves over his torso, at the porcelain skin there and you can feel his stomach heaving at your ministrations.

“are you close, baby?” you ask mindlessly, the lewd sounds of his fat cock in your mouth sending sensations right down to your sex as well. you never really listen to his answer, taking a deep breath and sucking in your cheeks and soon you’re deep throating your lover.

“mh— mmf . .” sounds deep from your throat as your nose buries itself in his pubes, and satoru struggles to hold your tantalising stare. he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and his moans are quick and high-pitched.

“cumming— ’m cumming,” before you come off and you go back to your pace and gojo’s small moans descend into longer ones at the feeling. his eyes roll back right into his skull as he twitches in your mouth and soon he’s spilling right into your throat and tongue.

“baby—” satoru’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, “s-shit . .” and the sheer amount of cum always takes you off guard, sputtering over it when you drag your lips off of him. your boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and darkened, looking at how the strings of his semen droop from your mouth and connect right to his weeping tip.

“eugh, eat more veggies, ’toru. you’re bitter as fuck.” you say with a giggle, swallowing nonetheless as you wipe a hand across your mouth, “thanks for the meal.”

his spirit has certainly ascended, chest heaving and legs jelly from that mind-blowing orgasm. even he takes solace on the headboard, looking down at you with tired eyes.

“but i’m not done,” you truly weren’t, driving satoru to the brink after you’ve milked him to his limit, and yet he wouldn’t have it any other way as he thrusts into you, having had a new burst of energy after seeing your confidence wane once you’ve gotten his dick in you.

it was cute — your words breaking up and staggering as you sink down for the first time after two days, reduced merely to whines as you ride him. gojo lets you have your fun for a bit before he properly flips you over, pressing down on your lower back.

“fuck yourself onto me, baby,” he can tell you’ve missed him too by how you squeeze around him, a sly grin on his face when your hips push back onto him. he sees the tight hold you have on the silk sheets and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. “good girl . . juuust like that.”

you’re jerking forward when he slaps your ass, letting it ripple from the force of both of his hand and your hips. but he takes over soon enough, grabbing both your arms and pulling you gently off that you’re hanging limply. and even while he does that, he’s still focused on the way your lips spread to accommodate him together with a ring of white at the base of his cock.

“that feel good? huh?” gojo mumbles, loving the way you arch your back and your head lols forward, just letting him do whatever he wants to you. you’re too far gone to even quell the ache in your thighs, too distracted by the wetness of your pussy.

“feel s— s’good, satoru—!” you moan out and like always satoru is indecisive in everything, now tugging you up to rest chest to back. “g’na cum!”

your legs spread more and more as your lover keeps you tightly pressed against him, an arm around your neck and the other, waist. wordlessly, he guides your face to the side, meeting your mouth in a sloppy, drooling kiss and his hips stutter at the way you mewl into his mouth.

“that right, princess?” he asks into your lips, relishing in your face contorting in pleasure. eyes reaching heaven and your mouth parted cutely even more when he props a leg up and his cockhead presses against your cervix ever so lightly.

“y—yeah . .” it’s a mix between a whine and a moan before the only rub of your clit from satoru’s hand sends you reeling and you’re trembling in his hold. you can feel your juices coat his length just as he cums as well, too obsessed with the way your cunt feels aeons better than his pathetic hand. he litters your skin with groans of his own, continue to fuck his cum back into you as you milk him dry with ropes and ropes of semen painting your womb white.

“good little girl,” he hums, and you sigh at the feeling of him cumming again, sensing him removing himself with you with an obscene pop! and you want to continue. you’re already moving your hips yet again, begging with small please’s but the happy-go-lucky song of the dryer interrupts the both of you. you scowl.

gojo laughs into your neck, and you’re left grumbling as he sets you down gently, letting you catch your breath before he presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek.

“i’ll handle it, baby,” satoru made a promise to you and he’ll keep it. he hurriedly pulls his sweatpants over his bottom half, “you just rest up.”

it’s not even two minutes later that you already miss him, trotting over to the laundry room in nothing but his shirt and you just watch as he removes the clothes with a certain tranquillity and delicateness that you’d like to see this sight more often and all you can muster in the moment is your arms around his middle.

and the sweetness of the moment is immediately ruined by gojo, “let’s fuck here. whaddya say?” 

your roommate and lover can only grin when you turn him around to smack him (“it’s!” slap “not!” slap “sanitary!” slap “here!” slap), finally happy everything’s back to normal. satoru simply presses a kiss to your temple.

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ fame's shadow .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Vil Schoenheit x insecure gn! reader

𓏵 695 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, no pronouns used, established relationship with reader, angst, hurt/comfort

kind of a self-indulgent post bc this sickness is making me feel things （；￣＾￣）feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

It started with a single article.

“Vil Schoenheit’s New Muse? Mystery Student Spotted by His Side!”

You’d laughed when you first saw it, showing Vil the grainy photo of the two of you walking through Main Street after classes. He’d only sighed, brushing it off with the ease of someone far too used to the tabloids. "They’ll get bored soon enough. Just ignore them, darling."

But they didn’t.

Soon, there were more headlines. “Ordinary Nobody Caught in Vil’s Spotlight!” “Rising Star Vil Schoenheit and Their Unworthy Partner—How Long Will It Last?” Comment sections filled with snide remarks, nitpicking everything from your appearance to the way you stood next to him.

At first, you convinced yourself it didn’t matter. Vil loved you. He chose you. That should’ve been enough.

But the comments stuck.

"They don’t even dress properly. How embarrassing for Vil."

"Must be nice riding his coattails."

"Do they seriously think they can keep up with someone like him?"

You stopped mentioning the articles to Vil. He was always so busy—filming commercials, practicing for his next show, overseeing the Pomefiore dorm. Every moment you had together felt precious, and the last thing you wanted was to add to his stress.

So, you smiled. You nodded. You told him you were fine.

But you started checking your reflection more often, tugging at your clothes and wondering if they looked too plain. You spoke less around his friends, afraid of saying something the media would twist into another cruel headline. You scrolled through hateful comments at night, your heart sinking further with each word.

And Vil, ever composed, ever radiant, never seemed to notice.

“You look tired,” he’d comment sometimes, brushing a hand against your cheek. “Have you been taking care of yourself? You know how important self-care is.”

You’d nod, force a smile, and tell him everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

It hit you during one of Vil’s photoshoots. You’d tagged along, thinking it would be nice to spend time together, even if you were just watching from the sidelines. But the photographer’s assistant, unaware of who you were, had muttered under their breath while passing by.

"Can’t believe they’re the one Vil chose. He could do so much better."

You froze. The room buzzed with activity, Vil effortlessly shifting poses under the bright lights. He looked perfect, untouchable. And you? You felt like a stain in his otherwise flawless image.

That night, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

"Vil, do you ever wonder if… if you’d be better off without me?" you asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

Vil blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What kind of nonsense is that? Where is this coming from?”

You hesitated, then shook your head. “Forget it. I’m just overthinking things.”

But Vil didn’t forget. He studied you with sharp, discerning eyes—the same eyes that could catch the slightest flaw in a stage performance or a fashion ensemble. And for the first time, he truly saw the exhaustion behind your smile, the way your shoulders sagged under an invisible weight.

“Darling,” he murmured, stepping closer, “who’s been filling your head with such ridiculous thoughts?”

You tried to brush it off, but Vil wouldn’t let you. Not this time. And when you finally broke down, confessing everything—the articles, the comments, the way you’d slowly started believing them—his expression hardened, not with anger toward you but at the world that had dared to hurt someone he cherished.

“You should have told me sooner,” he said, voice softer now, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “I can’t protect you from shadows I can’t see.”

That night, Vil didn’t just hold you; he made calls, sent emails, and ensured that certain tabloids would think twice before publishing another cruel word. But more importantly, he promised—no matter how bright his spotlight shone, it would never cast you aside.

Because in his eyes, you were never a shadow. You were the light that made his world worth standing in.

[slttygeto]

THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.

⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.

જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.

ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.

Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.

You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.

It’s because of me.

When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.

And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.

--

Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.

You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.

Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.

You were avoiding him.

“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Huh?”

“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.

“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.

“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.

You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.

“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.

“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”

“Did Satoru—“

“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.

“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.

“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.

“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.

“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.

“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”

“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.

“You’re being selfish.”

Selfish? You were being selfish?

You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.

“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.

“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.

“Baby, I didn’t—“

“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”

The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.

“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”

“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”

“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.

“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.

“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”

“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“

“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.

“Suguru—“

“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”

“Stop.” your lips quivers.

“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”

“You’re being mean, Sugu.”  

Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.

“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.

“What?”

“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?

This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.

You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.

--

Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.

He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.

And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.

“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.

He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.

“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“

“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”

Some space… So you were considering the break.

“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“

“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.

“Okay… can I still text you?”

“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.

“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.

“We’ll be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”

“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.

“Take care, Sugu.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

I DESPERATELY NEED MEAN DOM!FORD PLEASE I DONT CARE IF THAT DOESNT SUIT HIM I NEED HIM TO MOCK ME

mean dom!Ford x fem!reader

a/n: hey its totally ok and understandable, i love this man in every way, sub/dom or switch, i like to experiment and put him in different moods

tags: nsfw, fem!reader, fingering, ford being mean, dom!ford, needy reader, squirting

Ford doesn’t even bother looking up from his book as you squirm, desperate for just a sliver of his attention.

“you’ve been insufferable today,” he murmurs, tracing his long finger along your thigh slowly. “you can’t even sit still for ten minutes. what’s gotten into you?”

“just,” you blink up at him, wide-eyed and needy, clutching at the sleeve of his coat like some kind of plea. “Ford—”

“ah-ah.” he cuts you off without sparing a glance, his face still buried in the dense pages of his book. “don’t whine at me, sweetheart, it’s unbecoming.”

the sting of his indifference makes your cheeks burn, but the gentle, absentminded touch of his fingers only worsens the ache building between your legs. you press yourself closer to him, shifting with an embarrassed wiggle, hoping, praying, for something more.

“so needy,” he tuts under his breath, finally flicking his eyes down to catch your pitiful expression. the corners of his mouth curl into smirk. “what is it you want, hm? use your words, darling.”

“need you, please,” you mumble, breath hitching as his six long, perfect fingers curl against your hip, stilling your movement.

“‘need me,’” he parrots back flatly as if the words mean nothing to him. and then, just as your lip threatens to tremble, his hand is sliding down. languid and unhurried until the tips of his fingers press over the seam of your pajama shorts. “is this what you’ve been sulking about?” his fingers slip past the elastic of your panties now to find the slick heat of your cunt. the sharp inhale you give in response makes his smirk widen

you gasp softly, nodding far too eagerly as the faintest pressure makes your thighs clench together around his hand.

“tch. so pathetic, my love.” he hums like he’s only mildly amused, flipping a page of his book with his other hand as though this isn’t taking an ounce of his focus. “you can’t even get off by yourself, can you? you always need my help.”

your face burns hotter at the truth of his words.

“well,” he hooks two fingers around the waistband of your panties, pulling them low enough to slip his big hand inside. “lucky for you, i’m generous.”

you pant as he parts your delicate folds, spreading your slick as though he’s analyzing it. his thumb brushes lazily against your clit and your hips buck against him. “please. . . Ford,” you whimper, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders as he presses one thick finger into your entrance, just one, and it already feels like too much. “yes, more. . .”

“shh,” he murmurs, sounding like he’s scolding a misbehaving student. his eyes remain glued to the book propped lazily in his hand, not even sparing you the satisfaction of his gaze. “if you’re going to make this much noise, i’ll stop right now. do you understand?”

you bite down hard on your lip, nodding weakly as you stifle the whine that bubbles in your throat.

“good girl,” he mutters, thrusting his finger in a faint rhythm that has you trembling against him already. the slow drag of his touch, barely applying pressure, feels so cruel. he’s teasing your needy pussy on purpose, barely letting you feel enough to keep from crying.

“you’re already dripping. how shameful,” Ford says absently. “you must really be desperate if my touch alone has you this worked up.”

your hips twitch despite yourself, grinding into his palm like you’re trying to get more friction out of his cruel, lazy pace.

“are you that greedy?” he scoffs softly, clicking his tongue disappointedly. “i haven’t even properly touched you yet.”

you feel him shift slightly, and then, oh god, two of his fingers dip inside your messy cunt with ease, sliding in to the knuckle like they belong there. you choke back a gasp, clenching hard around him as he curls them just so, finding that spot with an infuriating ease that makes your vision blur. all this time his full attention is focused on book as though it is far more fascinating than the way your warm walls flutter and clench around his fingers.

your breath stutters in your throat as he pumps them with slow precision, twisting his wrist to press against the spongy spot that has you seeing stars. he’s relentless, six perfect fingers and half of his attention enough to make you feel like you’re falling apart, you’re losing all sense of yourself against him.

“Ford, Ford, please,” you manage to gasp, hands curling into fists against his chest. your nails claw at the fabric of his coat, desperate to have more of him, to pull his focus away from that damn book.

but he doesn’t even blink and you want to cry. want to scream. want him to look at you, but he’s back to reading again, flipping a page with a practiced flick of his wrist while his other hand pumps two thick fingers into you slowly.

“so awfully impatient tonight,” he remarks, reading his book like he hasn’t just pressed a third finger inside your already-stretched wet cunt. the burn of it, the stretch is delicious, unbearable, too much. “you wanted my attention, didn’t you?” he continues, voice still maddeningly level, as though he can’t hear the obscene sounds spilling from your mouth or the wet, squelching noises coming from where his fingers fuck into your pussy.

“y-yes,” you choke out, forehead dropping against his shoulder as your body trembles, helpless against his pace. “yes, Ford— need you, please—”

“you have it now,” Ford cuts you off, scissoring his fingers inside you, pressing harder until you cry out, legs shaking and hips jerking against him. the words go straight to your core and your walls flutter around his finger again, he chuckles softly at that, shaking his head because you’re just so predictable.

he pumps his fingers slower again, so unbelievably slow, the pads of them brushing over your spongy sweet spot every time. perfect, practiced, ruthless. and he doesn’t stop reading. he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t react when your whimpers get louder or when you grind helplessly against his palm, dripping on his hand.

“Ford— can’t—“ your back arches, needy moan rips from your throat, but Ford just flips another page of his book, his expression bored.

“you act like you can’t take it,” he says flatly, fucking you with his fingers a little bit faster. “but i know better. i know this greedy little cunt can handle so much more.”

“no, no, cant—“

“you can,” he bites out, fingers suddenly stilling inside you. the sudden emptiness makes you wail, but his cold stare finally flicks down to meet yours and it shuts you up instantly. “and you will. you’ll sit there like a good girl and take what i give you or you’ll get nothing.”

the coil in your belly pulls tight, pleasure threatening to snap, to overwhelm you completely. and still, still, he acts so unbothered, so calm, even as your slick drips down the length of his hand.

“hm,” he hums thoughtfully, the corner of his mouth quirking up as if he’s only just now beginning to enjoy himself. “close, aren’t you?”

you nod weakly, unable to form words, unable to do anything but whine softly into the fabric of his coat.

the book snaps shut.

you don’t even have time to process the movement before he tosses it carelessly onto the table, curling his hand at the back of your neck to yank you forward, crashing his mouth against yours in a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs as he finally, finally, turns his full attention on you.

Ford growls against your lips, plunging his fingers back into your cunt without warning, harder, faster now, the rough glide of his palm pressing firmly against your swollen clit. “begging for my attention like a desperate little thing.” he cuts you off harshly, his hand pinning you down as you try to squirm, legs shaking violently around his arm.

“oh, now you’re shy?” Ford scoffs, watching with sharp amusement as you twist and arch under him, trying to take everything he’s giving you. his fingers pump into your little pussy mercilessly now, curling with every thrust as you try to move your hips together with his rhythm, letting him ruin you with only his fingers, riding them desperately, chasing that high.

“Ford—! it’s too—”

“too much?” he finishes for you mockingly, leaning in close until his breath is hot against your ear. “but you wanted my attention, sweetheart. now you’re going to take everything i give you.”

his thumb finds your puffy clit again, rubbing it rougher now, circling, pressing, forcing that coil in your belly to tighten, to snap. you cry out, a soundless scream caught on your lips as your body convulses, pleasure so blinding it feels like you’re being torn apart and you’re literally crying, feeling tears appearing in the corners of your eyes.

“so pretty when you cry,” he leans down and kisses your forehead. “that’s it, my love, give it to me. i want to feel you drench my hand, sweetheart. make a mess for me.”

“i— i can’t—! too much, too muchh. . . cant, i cant, F-Ford!”

“you will,” he snaps and thrusts his fingers so deep it feels like he’s tearing you apart, dragging across that spot again and again until you’re choking on sobs, legs locking up around him and you try to pull away because that feeling is unknown to you, but he keeps rubbing that place inside you with his fingertips again and again. “that’s it, cum for me, love, now.”

and you do, despite all your whines and mewls, you do as you shatter with a loud, keening cry, arching your back. your walls seize around his fingers, soaking his hand, your thighs, the fabric of his pants, even his coat. your slick gushing around his fingers as he fucks you through it.

“there it is,” Ford mutters, watching your pretty needy face. “look at you, darling, so messy. you’re so beautiful.”

Ford finally slows his pace, but his fingers still buried deep inside you as he feels your walls spasming around them. his other hand strokes your thighs and stomach gently, soothing, so tender, as though he hasn’t just ruined you completely.

you’re a mess, trembling, tears streaming down your face, but Ford just clicks his tongue, pulling his fingers free and holding them up in the low lamplight, satisfaction written all over his proud face as he examines the slick dripping down his hand before wiping it against your thigh.

“well, now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, maybe you’ll let me finish my reading in peace.”

[tetsuissohot]

JJK MEN as DADS - fluff drabble

☆summary. fluff moment between jjk men and their kids - each character as a different scenario.

☆warning/tags: fem!reader, teeth rotting fluff, jjk men as dads

☆word count: 1.3k

☆a/n: I had so much fun writing this cute drabble! I hope you can awwww like I did!

Nanami Kento | Gojo Satoru | Toji Fushiguro | Geto Suguro | Choso Kamo | Shiu Kong

The Unbeatable Claw Machine Champion... or Not

The brightly lit arcade buzzed with energy, kids running around with excitement. Gojo stood in front of the claw machine, eyes narrowed with concentration. His son was bouncing beside him, eyes wide and filled with hope as he pointed at the cute panda plushy inside.

“Alright, watch the master at work,” Gojo said, cracking his knuckles dramatically.

His son giggled, clutching his favorite toy—a tiny batman plushy . The claw descended slowly, aimed perfectly for the panda, but just as it was about to grab it, the claw slipped, and the plushy tumbled back into the pile.

“Darn it!” Gojo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This thing’s rigged!”

His son tugged on his sleeve. “It’s okay, Dad! You can try again!”

Gojo puffed out his chest, determined now more than ever. “I won’t give up! My honor is on the line!”

Five attempts later, Gojo had spent an embarrassing amount of money and still hadn’t won the plushy. His son was laughing now, clutching his sides as Gojo groaned in defeat.

“I swear I could exorcise curses, but I can’t win a simple claw game,” Gojo muttered, shaking his head.

His son grinned, tugging on his sleeve again. “It’s okay, Daddy. You’re still the best!”

Gojo couldn’t help but smile at that. “Alright, but next time, that panda is mine.”

Daddy’s Little Helper

It was a quiet, early morning, the sun barely peeking through the curtains. Nanami sat on the edge of the bed, his tie draped loosely around his neck, waiting patiently as his daughter, a serious expression on her face, stood in front of him. She was determined to tie it properly, her little fingers fumbling with the knot as she tried to remember the steps he’d shown her.

“Over... under... then around, right, Daddy?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Nanami chuckled softly, resisting the urge to fix the tie himself. He adored these little moments—her small hands trying to help him get ready for work. “That’s right, but remember to pull it tight here.” He pointed at the knot gently.

After a few more seconds of struggle, she stepped back, triumphant. The tie was crooked, the knot slightly uneven, but she beamed up at him, proud of her work. Nanami looked down at her, his heart melting at the sight of her toothy grin.

“How do I look?” he asked, adjusting the tie slightly but leaving her knot mostly intact.

“You look perfect!” she said, bouncing on her feet, her happiness contagious.

He crouched down to her level and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll wear it just like this today.”

Dr. Megumi to the Rescue

Toji lounged on the couch, an amused smirk on his face as he watched little Megumi waddle over. The boy was wearing one of Toji’s oversized button-up shirts, the fabric hanging off him like a giant lab coat. He had a plastic stethoscope draped around his neck, and a toy doctor’s kit in one hand.

“I’m Doctor Megumi,” he declared, his face serious as he climbed onto the couch beside his dad. “I’m gonna fix your boo-boo.”

Toji raised an eyebrow, leaning back as Megumi got to work. “Oh yeah? Gonna fix me up, huh? How are you gonna do that, Doc?”

Megumi frowned in concentration, gently poking at the scar on Toji’s lip. “First, I gotta check if it hurts.”

Toji played along, letting out a fake groan. “Ouch, yeah, definitely hurts.”

Megumi nodded, taking this very seriously. He grabbed a band-aid from his kit and awkwardly pressed it onto his dad’s lip, the bandage far too big and covering half of Toji’s mouth.

“There. All better!” Megumi said proudly, climbing off the couch to admire his work.

Toji looked at his son, the band-aid dangling off his lip, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re pretty good at this, Doc. Think I’m gonna be okay now?”

Megumi gave a firm nod. “Yup! But you gotta keep the band-aid on forever.”

“Forever, huh?” Toji ruffled his son’s hair. “Alright, if the doctor says so.”

Braids and Giggles

Suguru sat on the floor, his back against the couch as his little girl stood behind him, combing through his long hair with wide, curious eyes. Her fingers twisted the strands in every direction, her tiny hands moving in random patterns as she tried her hardest to braid it.

“Are you sure this is gonna look good, sweetie?” Suguru asked, his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“Yep! I’m almost done, Daddy! You’re gonna look soooo pretty!” she said, her voice full of excitement.

Suguru chuckled, sitting patiently as she continued to twist and tangle his hair. A few moments later, she clapped her hands together, signaling she was finished. “Okay! Done!”

Suguru reached up, feeling the lopsided, uneven braid she had made. Some pieces were sticking out, others were barely in the braid at all, but her eyes were sparkling with pride.

He turned to her with a warm smile. “What do you think? Do I look pretty now?”

His daughter nodded enthusiastically. “The prettiest!”

Suguru chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Then I guess I’m ready for the day. Thanks, sweetheart.”

Choso sat on the floor in front of the mirror, his lips painted bright pink, his eyeshadow a chaotic mix of colors that his daughter had lovingly applied. She was concentrating, brushing his hair with a little comb while humming to herself.

The Sparkliest Runway Star

“You’re almost ready for the runway, Daddy!” she announced proudly, pulling out a sparkly headband and placing it on his head.

Choso smiled softly, watching her work with so much joy. “You think Mom’s going to be impressed?”

His daughter beamed, nodding excitedly. “She’s gonna love it! You’re gonna look like a princess!”

Choso chuckled at that, glancing at his reflection. He certainly didn’t look like a fierce curse user anymore. Instead, he looked like a very sparkly, dolled-up dad. But seeing how happy it made his daughter, he didn’t mind one bit.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go show Mom,” Choso said, standing up and offering her his hand.

They walked together, hand-in-hand, to find Y/N. As soon as they entered the room, Y/N burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand as she took in the sight of Choso in full makeup and glitter.

“Oh wow, look at you two,” she said, grinning.

Choso gave a mock-serious pose. “What do you think? Do I have a future in runway modeling?”

Their daughter clapped her hands, bouncing on her feet. “He looks like a princess, right, Mom?”

Y/N nodded, laughing. “The most beautiful princess.”

The Nerf Ambush Gone Wrong

Shiu and his son were in the middle of an intense Nerf battle, ducking behind makeshift forts of pillows and couches. Both were armed, giggling as they took aim at each other. Shiu peeked around the corner, ready to fire, when suddenly—

Thwack!

“Ah!” came a voice from the hallway.

Both froze. The Nerf darts had gone rogue and hit you, who had been peacefully carrying a laundry basket. You stood there, eyebrows raised, clearly unimpressed.

Shiu immediately dropped his Nerf gun, hands up in surrender. “It was an accident, I swear!”

Your son giggled nervously. “Sorry, Mommy!”

You just shook your head, grinning. "Now, help me pick up these darts."

You sighed dramatically, placing the laundry down and shaking your head, pretending to be serious. “Well, if that’s how you’re going to play...”

Without warning, you snatched up one of the extra Nerf guns from the couch and shot both of them with a perfect aim. Shiu stumbled back, clutching his chest in mock pain. “Oh no, she’s too powerful!” he said, collapsing onto the floor dramatically.

Your son immediately joined in on the fun, laughing as he ran to hide behind you, the tide of the battle turning in your favor.

Shiu stayed on the ground, dramatically pretending to be defeated. “Looks like you’ve won, but this isn’t over...”

MASTERLIST

[sencrose]

— 1004

pairing: yukimiya kenyu x f!reader

tags: established relationship, pwp, dry humping, cunnilingus, pet name (pretty girl), honestly the most vanilla thing i’ll ever write probably tbh

wc: 2.4k

summary: your boyfriend is adamant on showing just how much he loves you.

a/n: yeehaw first time writing for blue lock! vanilla and like... romance is not my usual thing so hope it's ok lol. dividers by @/adornedwithlight

ao3 link here

Everything’s great with your boyfriend.

For the most part.

He’s perfect on paper: kind, treats you well, adored by friends and family members alike. Never fails to bring a smile to your face whenever you see him. But that’s what makes it all the more frustrating when his hands grab your thighs with an ironclad grip, begging you to stop straddling him.

It’s not the first time this has happened, far from it. Maybe you were a bit foolish in knowingly dating someone so chaste, thinking you’d be able to convince him otherwise. But every time he rejects your advances, you can’t help but wonder why he’s still with you. Still, you heed his request, getting off him to take a seat next to him on the couch.

“Yukki…” you trail off, huddling into yourself as you find the words to say next, “do you like me?”

Kenyu’s eyes widen, his expression full of concern, as if you kicked a puppy right in front of him. “Huh? Where’s that coming from?”

“I mean…” you mumble, resting your face on top of your knees, “we never do anything more than kissing.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop. The ball in your throat grows, the words spilling from your mouth, like water from a dam that’s been compromised.

“I know you want to wait ‘til marriage but, sometimes it feels like you don’t like me when that’s all we do,” you pause, looking over at him when a twang of guilt strikes your chest before looking down again, “I-I mean we don’t have to go all the way or anything like that.”

“I-It’s nothing like that,” he sighs, pinching his temple before continuing, “I like you, a lot. You could even say that I love you.” The confession makes your skin run hot, even though you’ve heard it plenty of times before.

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it, I’m just scared.” Kenyu shifts again, attempting to face you before continuing, but the second his eyes meet yours, he looks away. “When you get on top of me like that…” Now it’s his turn to be flustered, his skin blooming a pretty shade of pink as he struggles to thread his words together. “I don’t think I can last long.”

You sit up properly, tilting your head quizzically. He has your full attention now. “Huh?”

“It feels crazy good,” Kenyu continues, struggling to meet your gaze, “good enough to make me… You know.” He stops himself short of the word, but you both know what he means. He won’t say it out loud because he won’t know what to do with himself. Though if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself either.

The silence is deafening. It’s as if the room is waiting for a response. The realization strikes you like lightning, sudden and bright. It’s not that your boyfriend doesn’t like you, quite the opposite in fact. He might like you a little too much.

“Ah, but that’s kinda embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly, breaking the silence first and brandishing a forced smile to hide his insecurity.

“Yukki,” you say before putting your hands on either side of his face before pressing, “look at me.”

“I’m looking,” he mumbles through his squished lips.

“I don’t mind. Actually…” you look off to the side even though you’re the one who forced this intimate display of eye contact, “I think it’s really hot.”

His eyebrows manage to shoot up in shock, even in this position. “You sure?”

“You think I’d lie to you?”

He chuckles, and you can hear the relief in his voice. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Then will you let me do the honors?” you ask, looking up at him doe-eyed and fluttering your lashes.

“S-Sure. But can we take it slow?”

“Whatever you want, Yukki,” you say softly, voice honeyed with affection as you get on top of him again. Kenyu shifts, his hands wrapping around your thighs softer this time.

It’s as if something’s shifted. You’ve kissed each other plenty of times before, but now that the intention to go further lies in the air, it’s like your first time again. Awkward, flustered, apologetic as you try to kiss him and accidentally bump foreheads together.

Kenyu laughs, because no matter what you do, he always finds you adorable. He decides to take his hands off your thighs and place them on the back of your head, gently bringing you in for a kiss that puts romance movies to shame. He’s in no rush, savoring the taste of you on his lips as he always does.

Kenyu always knows how to bring you back to Earth. He cherishes you–holds and kisses you like you’re the most delicate piece of china in a glass cabinet. And while this is nice enough on its own, you have other things you’ve been wanting to try. You keep his preferences in mind, taking it slow with a lazy roll of your hips. Even with that, you can hear his voice catching in his throat.

You use the opportunity to take it a bit further and slip your tongue in, which he welcomes. Every time you take it a bit further–whether it’s biting his lip or playing with his tongue–his self control chips a little more, whispered moans filling your mouth.

With every kiss, every roll of your hips, you can feel his length growing, getting hotter even when it’s confined by the fabric of his pants. It makes you want to work just a little harder, get yourself a little closer to cumming with him. The fabric is frustrating, an annoying reminder of just how close yet far you are from him. Though, that frustration starts to melt when Kenyu follows the rhythm of your hips.

It’s getting harder to keep your promise when he’s this cute. When you wrap your arms around his neck, you can feel just how hot and bothered he is, as if his soft whimpers weren’t enough of a testament already. What was once a soft grasp behind your head grows into something more primal and unrefined, desperation running through his fingertips as he grabs whatever he can to bring you closer to him.

You’re not any better, the speed of your hips picking up, desperate to hear him so needy. It’s the first time you’ve heard him like this.

As you lose your control and composure, your hips grind against him harder. Kenyu can’t keep his voice back any longer, desperate groans leaving his mouth with a quiver of his lips. Every sound he gives you goes straight to your pussy, making you warm and greedy for more.

You can feel the wet spot on your panties grow as you rub against him and wonder if he can feel it too. It might be pushing it, but the thought of freeing his cock shoots through your head. It feels and looks so tight against the fabric, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yukki,” you pause and give a glance at his zipper, “can I?”

“I thought we weren’t going all the way,” he replies, breathless as he looks up at you.

“We aren’t… I just wanna feel you more,” you say meekly, “that’s ok, right?”

His eyes widen like saucers before nodding. “Y-Yeah, go for it.”

So you do, unzipping his pants like you’re unwrapping a present—it might as well be one. You adjust and place yourself right on top and start again, though the sensation is much better this time around for both of you. You see it in the way Yuuki immediately throws his head back and moans, feel it in the way your cunt slides against his heat with only two layers of thin fabric keeping you apart.

All of it’s just too much for you–the pre that’s smeared on his boxers, the warmth of his cock against your clothed folds. It’s the closest you’ve been to him, to going all the way. Everything about it makes you more desperate to see him cum, so you focus all your attention on his leaky tip, just to see how sticky you can make it.

The sight of you proves to be too much for Kenyu, as he brings up his arm to shield his eyes. You’re quick to move it out of the way, a silent plea for him to look at you, look at where you’re nearly connected.

“Getting close?” you ask, sweet as sugar. Just the sound of your voice is enough to send him over the edge, but he wants to hold out, even if it’s just for a moment longer.

“You gotta look at me when you cum,” you plead.

Kenyu bites his lip and groans before shakily nodding.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bring your face closer to his until you’re touching forehead to forehead–close enough to feel every pant, every tremor of his voice.

“You love me?” you moan, digging your hips into him deeper.

“God, I love you so much,” he moans back, eyes lined with tears that are one blink from falling.

Kenyu’s desperately rutting his hips into you, and you swear you can feel him prodding at your entrance.

You feel it when Kenyu cums with a gravelly groan, his chest rattling as he cries. Even more so when you keep humping him, as his boxers get stickier and mix with your slick.

“W-Wait, too much,” he gasps, muscles visibly tightening in his neck as he throws his head back.

You can’t take your eyes off of the point where your undergarments meet, fabric soaked and darkened from the fluids.

“You really love me, huh?” you ask with a smile.

“Of course,” he sighs contentedly before giving you a soft peck on the cheek. It makes it all too easy to snuggle into him and lie your head on his chest. Before you can get too comfortable, Kenyu shifts his body and you’re suddenly far too aware of the sticky patch touching your underwear.

“Um… Should we clean up?” you ask, preparing yourself to dismount before Kenyu shifts his weight to push you back down on the couch, his hands around your wrists. Determination lights a fire in his eyes.

“You gotta let me return the favor.”

“H-Huh?”

“Let you…” he glances down at the wet spot of your panties before looking back at you, “you know?”

Oh.

“N-No, this is enough for me Yukki, I don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“But I do want this,” he assures you before kissing your cheek, his hands carefully tracing the curve of your hips, “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

“I mean,” you pause, shuffling a bit and adjusting your gaze away from him, “if you’re okay with it.”

That’s all the approval he needs to kiss you, drawing a trail down your body.

Kenyu’s careful and meticulous, savoring every press of his lips against your skin. Whether it’s your neck, chest, waist, he lingers as if he doesn’t want to leave it behind. Every opened mouth kiss, flick of his tongue filled with adoration.

Whatever ritual he has going on, it doesn’t fail to make you shiver in anticipation, have butterflies blooming in your stomach. It makes you shy, being so exposed in front of him. In a way, it’s a little nostalgic—reminds you of the first time he dropped you off at your apartment and said his goodbyes with a kiss.

But then you’re brought back to the moment when Kenyu adjusts and shifts you to lie down on your back. His hands are there every step of the way, a silent plea to let him take care of everything.

He takes his time with you, slowly kissing a path up your leg. With each kiss, he lingers a moment longer. A playful bite here, a hint of tongue there. It keeps you on edge, just a little. Every hushed gasp or squeal earns a huff and a smile out of him.

“My pretty girl,” he sighs, adoration laced in his breath.

Carefully, he tests the waters with a delicate kiss before going in with a drag of his tongue as soon as a moan slips from your lips. From there, he uses his tongue with a determination you usually only see on the field from afar, like he’s trying to tear a hole in your underwear. The cotton gets wetter with every stroke of his tongue, sticky fabric clinging to your lips.

With his enthusiasm, it’s as if the underwear isn’t even there. All you can feel is Kenyu’s tongue, hot and heavy, incessantly drawing circles around your clit. It’s too much, looking down and seeing his head disappear under the fabric of your skirt. When you instinctively shut your legs out of embarrassment, his hands hook around your thighs and bring you closer. It brings a newly lit passion out of him, has him pressing his face even harder into your pussy.

The noises he makes while sucking on the fabric is too much for your ears, too much for a first time. It’s messy, unrefined, and nothing you would expect from your prim and proper boyfriend. Something about seeing him like this, so desperate and eager to serve, only adds to your arousal.

Despite how laser focused he is on your clit, on making you reach the apex of pleasure, he brings his hand to yours, your fingers intertwining. His thumb rubs circles into your skin, something he always does to comfort you. Maybe he feels it coming before you, with the way your breathing intensifies, the way your moans get louder and all the more cuter.

“You love me too, don’t you?” he asks, hushed and panting.

“L-Love you so, mmh, much Kenyu,” you cry back, biting your lip.

“Wanna show me how much?” he asks before going back into you, passion woven in each stroke of his tongue.

“Yes, yes, yes-” you cry before your climax finally hits you like a wave. Even though you barely recognize the sounds pouring from your lips, you wonder if Yuuki does. All stuttered moans and hushed pants as he guides you through it. His pace starts to slow as you come down from your high, before sealing it with a kiss on your clit.

“Next time you think I don’t love you,” he pauses to meet you face to face before pressing his lips onto yours, “I hope you’ll remember this.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

One of your "It's a Match" chapters gave me an idea. LOVE that series btw!

What if Gaz is a virgin so Simon let's him lose his virginity with his gf? Simon is there to guide Gaz and make sure he does it right so you get as much pleasure out of it as needed. Then you give Gaz the ride of his life while Simon controls when and where he gets to cum. The poor man whimpering beneath you from the edging and denial until he finally gets permission to cum.

Sub!Gaz x Dom!Simon x Switch!Reader

(Feel free to ignore this as well.)

Took some creative liberties with the prompt and made Switch!Reader a mean/brat tamer domme even if Gaz isn’t necessarily a brat (just felt more practical for me to do it). Sue me.

Sharing is caring. || Gaz x F!Reader x Ghost

Rating: E Words: 4.7K (this one got away from me sorry) Pairing: virgin!Gaz x gf!Reader x bf!Simon CW: smut, voyeurism, hotwifing, domination/submission, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), unprotected piv, fairly rough/forceful sex (BUT CONSENSUAL), praise, slight verbal degradation?, body mods (piercings). other tags: pre-established couple, loss of virginity, pre-agreed upon conditions, consent checks, no beta we die like soap. a/n: no thoughts, just vibes. NOT PROOFREAD

Simon first brought it up one sleepy Sunday evening, when you two were lying side by side in bed, his arms snaked around you as you read an e-book, his eyes glued to the TV on an episode of some crime show.

“You know,” He had said, Roman nose rubbing the top of your head affectionately. “I’d like to run something by you.”

“Hm?” You cooed as you rolled your head back on his chest to look up at him.

“So Kyle has this problem,” Simon began to explain as he looked down at you, brown eyes peering through his blonde lashes.

That got your senses tingling and you immediately set aside the tablet to dedicate your attention to the topic at hand, turning your body to properly face him, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

“What kind of problem?” You questioned, an eyebrow raising in intrigue.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched lightly, a tell-tale sign he was about to bring up something ‘embarrassing’, some good gossip. “Go on!” You immediately insisted, catching the little microexpressions on his face.

“He’s a virgin.” Simon revealed, causing you to gasp, pulling your head back and shaking it in confusion.

“NO?!” You said in shock. “With that pretty face of his?” You blinked.

“I know.” Simon says and then cocks a brow upward. “So what do you say?”

You didn’t need clarification, you simply smirked and shot him a look.

-

That’s how you ended up here.

Simon made all the arrangements, established rules with Kyle, and finally brought him over the that following Friday.

“You sure about this, sir?” Kyle asks, ever respectfully, sat on your living room couch, with you by his side, Simon sitting across from you on the arm chair by the chandelier.

“As sure as anyt’in’.” Your boyfriend replies and casts a glance at you. “You sure, da’lin’?”

“100% sure.” You answer, before glancing at Kyle. “Are you sure about it?”

“I… I am. But… It’s… It’s your relationship, I don’t want to cause an issue.” Kyle tells you, looking at you sheepishly, dark lashes fluttering anxiously over those stunning brown eyes of his.

“It’s not our first time doing this, I’m sure Simon’s told you all about it.” You reply in a reassuring tone.

“I know but…” Kyle says as he looks at you, your hand on his knee, finger drawing light circles on the denim of his pants.

“We’ll start off slow, at your pace. If ever there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop.” You assure him. “Simon’s here for that, after all… Not just for my sake, but yours too.” You add.

Kyle nods and gulps down a deep breath, casting one last glance at the form of his lieutenant, sat imposingly on the arm chair, legs spread open, lounging without a car in the world. One of his legs is bent near the seat, the other stretched across, foot resting on the edge of the coffee table, and arms resting comfortably on the rests, one of his hands holding a tumbler of Bourbon. His head is cocked to the side with interest.

The young sergeant nods again and slowly leans toward you. One of his hand tentatively wraps around your hip, fingers grazing the expanse of your ass in the shorts you’re wearing, while the other grabs you around the back of the neck, his lips connecting to yours.

Your warm, wet tongue swirling with his, soft breaths and gasps coming from your mouth as you let him take the lead for a moment... it’s all making his confidence grow. Sure, he’ll need guidance eventually, but for now he’s got this.

His hand slides to cup your ass, grabbing it with a greedy grasp, squeezing his fingers into the thickness, the other sinking into your hair, fingers gently clutching your scalp as they tug into the hairs.

He’s kissed plenty of people before, this isn’t new for him, and yet, it still feels completely different, in the way you’re not ‘his’ to kiss. But, somehow, that makes it all the better.

Slowly, your lips separate and you glance up at him a single look to check on his state and he nods imperceptibly, which causes your hands to slide down his chest and begin feeling him up.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you atop of him, hands sliding under the fabric of your top to feel up your back as your own find the hem of his t-shirt and tug it up to expose his chest.

Your fingers trace his pecs, his abs, nails softly drawing down atop him, making him shiver. He’s younger than Simon, his skin infinitely smoother, his body fat percentage definitely lower, not a trace of hair on him. It’s so different from your boyfriend… And you welcome the change.

You help him take off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side and then lower your mouth onto his jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones… You’ve barely started and the poor kid looks like he’s already seeing the universe and all its stars, his cock having sprung to attention so quickly that the bulge in his pants keeps rubbing against your inner thigh.

Slowly, you slip down from atop of him, your hands sliding down his body as you kneel before him on the floor, hands tracing over his thighs in the jeans he’s wearing, fingers squeezing his strong muscles through the fabric.

“You’ve never gotten a bj before, have you?” You ask him, eyebrows cocked and eyes locked onto his face. He shakes his head immediately, muttering something about ‘getting a handy’ back in secondary but that was the extent of it.

“Poor thing.” You coo at him. “Never got to feel a pretty mouth wrapped around that cock, hm?” Yo teased him playfully, watching how his eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching pitifully, as you undid his belt and tugged down his jeans.

“You’re in good hands, Garrick. She’ll take good care of you. Has a very talented throat.” Simon pipes up behind you. You don’t even have to look behind you to spot the smirk on his lips, the way the dulcet of his voice comes just short of a boast and a brag of how lucky he himself is, and how lucky Kyle is that Simon was willing to share you.

You help Kyle out of his sneakers and jeans before beginnin to palm him through the black cotton of his boxer briefs, his cock already peeking up from behind the waistband, leaking precum in anticipation. “Someone’s eager, hm? Are you excited, Kyle?” You quip to him.

“Mhm. Very. Very!” Kyle nods, his eyes glued to every single movement of yours, from the way your hands palm at his bulge, to how your fingers caress his smooth skin, to how they hook onto the waistband and roll down his underwear, peeling it off his body.

He’s big, bigger than Simon, even, though not as thick… He’s circumcised and he’s perfectly shaven. You wonder if he did that for your sake, or his own preference. There’s a thick vein running down the underside of him, one you can’t wait to feel pulse against your tongue.

Taking his cock in your hand, you stroke it slowly before allowing your tongue to run atop of it, base to tip, your tongue gently grazing the leaky tip, spreading the precum over the head before slowly parting your lips and guiding him inside.

The moan that escapes the boy in front of you makes you smirk, he twitches below you, fingers clenching on either side of his thighs, as if resisting squeezing into tight fists as you slowly allow his cock to slide deeper into your mouth. Then, you start bobbing it, up and down, cheeks hollowed out and lips grazing the warm skin leaving a mess of saliva around him.

Kyle’s quick to react this time, his hand grabbing you by your hair, legs trembling on either side of you. Your eyes shoot up to find his, only to find that his head is falling back onto the back of the couch, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open like he’s experiencing an out of body experience.

“He’s certainly enjoying himself, isn’t he?” Simon remarks behind you, receiving a finger signal from you, a sign of agreement, a preestablished way of communicating, since your mouth was busy. “That feel good, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah… I-It… God…” Kyle groans in between swallowed breaths. Poor thing, you want to coo at him, already too lost in the pleasure to even speak… Oh, how beautiful he’ll look soon, fucked out under you, drunk on your pussy…

You don’t notice Simon coming up from behind you until you feel his hand grip your head, atop of Kyle’s, calloused fingers digging into your scalp. His other hand shoots out to grab Kyle’s head from the back, pulling it forward so he’s forced to stare at you.

Then, your head is shoved forward, Kyle’s cock sliding down your throat with no warning Simon’s hand holding you in place, while Kyle’s eyes widen and an obscene moan escapes his mouth. Simon controls your head, pulling and pushing you onto Kyle’s hip. 

It’s no wonder that Kyle’s whole body starts to tremble, eyes widened and having trouble staying focused, or open, mouth left wide open as Simon makes him fuck the back of your throat, experienced eyes keeping watch of your reactions and signals and of Kyle’s…

He’s controlling the speed at which you go, how deep you take his cock down his throat, how much of a mess you make with your spit, and how long you get to breathe whenever he pulls you off before pushing you back on. A reminder. He’s always in control.

“Come down her pretty throat, go on, Garrick.” Simon demands. Kyle, poor thing, has already been holding on with teeth and nails to keep himself from climaxing too soon, wanting to prove himself as more than just inexperienced… But Simon’s order is so severe, he can’t keep it up… And he lets go, twitching in your mouth and shooting his come down your throat.

Simon lets go of you both, giving you a moment to catch your breaths, brown eyes staring at the result of what you just did, you, out of breath, a mess of drool down your chin, and eyes welled up with tears, and Kyle, out of breath, a mess of drool around the base of his cock, and eyes glazed over.

“Good job, da’lin’...” Simon tells you, pulling you up ever so slightly, kissing you sweetly, his tongue piercing flicking across your tongue, as if he’s looking for a taste of Kyle in your throat. 

After a moment, he pulls back and looks at Kyle. “Now, you’re gonna thank her for the favour she made ya, hm?” He warns. “Let’s take this to the bed. C’mon.” He demands, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom, leaving Kyle to have to keep up.

Simon, unlike you, is a practical man. He doesn’t waste time. By the time Kyle has made it to the bedroom after barely 20 seconds, he’s already got you naked and splayed atop the mattress, a pillow placed under your hips.

He’s on his knees in front of you and beckons Kyle closer with two fingers, before he uses those same two fingers to rub over your folds and spread them open, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten from merely giving Kyle head. “You see that?” Simon coos at him while you stare at them both, holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Kyle replies with a nod, his own hand reaching to touch you, carefully sliding between your puffy lips, gliding across easily through the slick. 

Simon grabs Kyle’s wrist and carefully guides it across to your clit, finding it with the speed of a man that’s been fucking you often since you two started dating. He knows your body, knows you better than anyone, and he’s about to show Kyle exactly how to touch you to get you to fall apart like he does…

You immediately stiffen up when you feel the pads of Kyle’s fingers against your clit, the pressure behind them coming from Simon’s hand as he rolls his fingers in light circles. It’s familiar and it immediately causes you to hum in pleasure and hiss, lying yourself back on the mattress.

“Ideally, you always keep something touch that needy little clit there.” Simon explains, more like he’s giving an anatomy lesson than having a threesome. “Be it a tongue, a finger, what have you.”

Simon’s hand then slides Kyle’s fingers away, making you whimper from the loss of contact. “Be patient, da’lin’, you’ll get more soon.” He quips. “Needy girl… Thought you were going to be all bossy with Kyle, now look at you…” He coos. 

Simon turns Kyle’s hand over and, using his own hand, parts your puffy cunny before helping Kyle push two digits into your slick warmth. Kyle’s fingers are no biggy, not thick and calloused like Simon’s, and they’re surprisingly easy to take on. You moan softly at them, before becoming just a bit more vocal when Kyle’s fingers pad over your G-spot when Simon curls them just so.

“Right there, you see that?” Simon beckons, Kyle responding with mild agreement that you don’t even register because, soon, his fingers start moving, fucking in and out you per Simon’s instruction, while your boyfriend’s tongue quickly finds your clit, the cold piercing rubbing and flicking at your most sensitive spot, causing your back to arch on the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Simon…” You whine, legs already shaking, more so per the stimulation, which causes your boyfriend to use both of his free hands to keep your knees spread open as far as he could comfortably get them, tongue still lapping up at you with purposeful strokes.

The shaggy blond hair of your boyfriend vanishes for a moment, as does the experienced tongue touching you, before it gets replaced with Kyle’s slightly messier and uncoordinated attempts, Simon observing Kyle and noting your reactions and how much weaker they are, upset at the lack of proper stimulation.

“C’mon, Garrick…” Simon croons. “Your tongue’s sharp enough to roast Johnny, but you get here and it gets shy?” He taunts, before using his hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck to guide him a bit.

“I’m trying…” Kyle remarks, his face feeling warm against your skin, showing he’s likely blushing despite his darker complexion hiding it, his fingers still moving in the way Simon taught him, his only saving grace.

“Scoot.” Simon remarks and pushes his head aside, ever so slightly, causing him to rest against your thigh. Simon’s head pushes in near Kyle’s, resting against your other thigh, and his tongue catches your clit again, though the angle at he’s at now, slightly at an angle, allows Kyle to spot the way Simon moves his tongue: soft circles, zigzagging side to side, lips also rubbing against you.

Kyle watches closely, eyes widened, pupils blown with lust at the sight of Simon’s face so close and going down on you so eagerly, his eyes glued to your face up top, as if checking every single reaction you have to your boyfriend’s mouth. And react you do. Your moans are louder, jumpy, desperate, your hands grabbing the bed covers and squeezing tight, your cunt seeking Simon’s mouth as you fuck yourself onto it.

Kyle wasn’t the type to watch porn often, having little time and little interest in it, more so because he knew it wasn’t a good habit or realistic to expect it to be realistic… But the sight of Simon’s lips sucking and rubbing into your slick like it was the most delicious meal he’s ever gotten to eat was better than any of the porn he’s actually seen.

Simon’s able to make you come undone in a matter of minutes, the whimpers and needy moans, the shallow breaths, the way your head was left spinning, lolling to the side as Simon eased you down from your peak and then dropped a chaste kiss to your thigh before standing up again. 

“You saw that?” He teases Kyle, who nods eagerly, no words coming to his lips after the display he just got. “You’ll get there eventually. With practise.” He assures him before patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Up you go.”

“How are you doing, da’lin’?” Simon asks, checking on you as you nod and show him a thumbs up, causing a chuckle to come from his chest before he takes a seat in another armchair in the corner, a spot he usually uses when having insomnia, right by the windows, to work on his laptop while you sleep near him… Except this time being used for something else.

“Go on, then, continue.” He demands as he sprawls out on the armchair, legs spread and already undoing his belt and fly, seeking relief from the tight feeling in his own jeans.

You nod eagerly and quickly shift to be sat on the bed, pulling Kyle toward you. “You still want this?” You ask him as you look him in the eyes… As if Kyle, needy the way he is now, after the sight of you coming undone on Simon’s tongue, would ever be able to answer anything other than a resounding ‘YES!’.

“Mhm… I do.” Kyle assures you with another nod… So, you kiss again, hands sliding over each other’s bodies just like they had on the couch before, exploring the free skin, allowing Kyle to grope you more easily. He seems fixated on your ass and thighs, fingers kneading the extra meat in them and holding you close.

His cock has long recovered from his first orgasm, now rubbing against your tummy as he kneels in front of you on the mattress. But not for long. Soon, you’ve laid Kyle on his back, and you’re straddling him, one leg on either side, slowly rubbing your folds over the length of his veiny cock.

“You’re gonna take ‘im for a right, da’lin’?” Simon asks, your eyes seeking him out in his armchair. The way you’re positioned, he can see all of you. Your pretty tits, the way your lips spread to rub against Kyle’s shaft, your legs parted open and knees digging into the mattress.

“Mhm…” You reply, your expression having shifted once again from the needy, submissive mess he had made of you, to a more dominant, playful one as you look down at the sergeant below you, looking up at you like he knows he’s in for a wild one.

“Go on then… But try not to break him, yeah?” Simon teases and winks at you, his hand already palming his cock through his own black boxer briefs.

“No promises…” You quip in return and wink back, before, carefully reaching a hand forward to lift Kyle’s cock from its resting spot against his hip.

Slowly, you sink yourself into it, his narrower build a lot easier to accommodate than Simon’s girth… But you soon regret how eagerly you did it, when you feel Kyle’s sheer size slip inside easily, his tip striking your cervix forcefully with that one swft motion.

“Bloody hell…” You grunt and bounce back a bit to relieve the pressure. “You’re big, aren’t you?” You tease Kyle who’s already unresponsive, poor little thing, eyes twice as wide as they had been when you gave him head, barely nodding in response.

Shifting your weight around, you plant your feet on either side of Kyle’s hip. “I’m gonna move, okay?” You warn him, setting your open palms on his thighs, behind your back, earning another nod from Kyle.

Slowly, you start to ride him, each bounce of your hips drawing the most delicious moans out of Kyle, his head lolling back over the foot of the bed, eyelids fluttering and his back arching.

“Gah- Fuck-” Kyle grunts, his breath already ragged before you’ve had time to do anything, just slowly moving, feeling his lengthy size rub against your walls as you force him to bottom out every time.

Kyle’s voice gets higher, whinier, his forehead dribbling with sweat with each thrust you force his cock to deliver into your slick cunny. “Feels… so… sososo so good…” He whimpers, his tone almost pathetic.

“Yeah… does it feel good?” You croon at him, a mischievous smirk on your lips, his cock drawing soft moans off your mouth as well.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah…” Kyle nods needily, his breath staggered and swallowing excess saliva.

“Yeah? Was it all you were expecting, pretty boy?” You tease him some more, earning another handful of needy ‘Yeah’s, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to consider saying anything else. “You don’t want me to go faster then, do you?”

“No… no… faster…” He replies, his head shooting forward, clearly eager to experience what ‘faster’ would feel like.

“Oh? Then you were lying? It doesn’t feel good, you need it faster?” You croon at him as if he was behaving like a brat and not like the good boy he really was.

“No… nO… it’s- it’s-!” Kyle tries to reply, desperate to clear the misunderstanding. Not that you give him time for it, as you speed up the speed of your bouncing, taking him in harder with each strike of your hips coming down onto his.

“GOD- YES!” Kyle shouts, eyes shot open and back curling upward, his head snapping forward to look at you and watch the way your pussy swallows every inch of his veiny cock, before letting out a huff and falling back on the bed again, desperate for more.

His hands grab onto your thighs and hips, fingers digging in hard, as you ride him, sweat beginning to slide down your forehead, down your cheeks and neck. Your eyes flitter over to Simon in the corner.

The smug fucker is watching everything with a nasty little half-grin on his lips, brown eyes darkened with lust as he watches you play with Kyle, making him squirm and whimper below you.

“Play with your clit for me, da’lin’.” His voice rings out amidst the frequent and whiney moans coming from Kyle. One of your hands slips away from Kyle’s thigh behind you, finding your clit and rubbing it slowly as you keep bouncing atop of Kyle, hips stuttering lightly as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“That’s it…” Simon says with a chuckle from his armchair, fisting his cock leisurely, as if the sight in front of him wasn’t worth any more from him. “How’s his cock feel, da’lin’?” Your boyfriend asks you.

He’s playing with your head, much like you’re playing with Kyle’s… making you go back and forth between a submissive and dominant mind frame, deriving pleasure from the mind games he’s forcing you to take on.

“It’s big…” You whimper in reply. “So big…” You murmur, your eyes soft and needy as you look at your boyfriend, watching the wicked look in his face..

“Don’t look at me, look at him…” Simon tells you. “Fuck ‘im right, he deserves it.” Simon adds. “Poor lad, been so long without experiencing a pussy…” He teases. “ow’s it feel, Garrick?” He turns his attention, and yours, to the sergeant below you.

Kyle nods pathetically. “Y-Yeah… It’s- Ah-” He whimpers, eyes glazed over with pleasure, too far gone in it, too overwhelmed with the feeling of a warm, wet pussy sheathing his virgin cock.

He’s too fucked out to think… And you’re bound to join him soon enough, with the way he looks below you, your fingers playing with your clit, and his cock swiftly hitting a spot inside you that no man’s ever reached before…

Your hips stutter atop of Kyle’s, your legs straining and tired, sore from the rhythm and position. You shift positions, leaning forward, hands coming to rest on his hard pecs, your head hanging atop of Kyle’s, facing him better.

You grind back and forth, trying to regain strength to continue, feeling Kyle’s tip rubbing deep inside of you, so deep and hard… You can’t help but whine.

“She’s getting tired, Kyle. Go on, it’s your turn.” Your boyfriend quips, his voice dripping with power and command over the two of you.

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, his arms wrapped around your lower back and he bucked up like a bull, tossing you both aside, the bed creaking with the movement. Whatever insecurity he had is gone.

He pushes your thighs apart with his hip and starts pistoning into you with barely any regard for rhythm or how deep he’s going, his face buried into your neck as he plows into you, grunting and whining like an animal in rut. Not that you mind.

You’re used to Simon (and sometimes a few other mutual ‘friends’ of yours), men who are experienced, who know what to do, how to do it, who aren’t sloppy or erratic, who’s hips don’t jerk with each plunge into your warm cunny… It’s completely different with a bloke like Kyle. Inexperienced, green, but eager and desperate and…

You’re moaning loud and often, nails clawing at his smooth scarless back, eyes rolling as each snap of his hips claps against you like a whip, his cock burying into you to the hilt and back out before plunging back in.

Once more, Simon’s quick to come to your side, quick to crouch by the side of the bed, eyes admiring the way you both act and move, to keep a keen eye on your reactions and his, ready to pull him off you like a mutt that’ll hurt his mate if the owner doesn’t make him dismount…

But he doesn’t intervene. Not when you’re moaning like a whore, with Kyle sweating and grunting atop you, his eyes screwed shut and looking like he’ll lose every and any ounce of restraint he has in the next 3 seconds, somehow pulling the will to go on from sheer fucking air.

“You gonna flood ‘er little cunt with your come, aren’t you, Kyle?” Simon coos as he rests his forearms on the mattress, a perch to watch better.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle replies with an eager nod, eyes opening for a moment to look at Simon who’s so close to him.

“Yeah? Are you?” Simon continues egging him on. “You gonna fill my girl with your load?” He adds, his voice dropping to a more authoritative tone.

“Y-YEAH!” Kyle raises his voice, a bit more determined, but still deep in his natural state… obedient, ready to die for his superior, for his lieutenant.

“Go on, then,” Simon demands. “I wanna see. I wanna see you fill ‘er up.” He adds. “Tell ‘er you’re gonna do it.”

Kyle’s head turns a bit to look at you, his warm brown eyes blown wide with lust and desperation, his skin slick with sweat, his plump lips parted to let in desperate gulps of air.

“‘m gonna…” Kyle grunts as he shifts his weight lightly, his nose leaning against yours. “Gonna put my come so… deep inside you…” He warns you.

The look in his eyes, the desperation in his tone, the warning tone of his that does not at all fit his personality… Somehow it all comes together to rip the filthiest orgasm out of you, your head rolling back, eyes squeezing shut and a loud whine slipping from your parted lips as you squeeze and contract around Kyle’s cock.

Kyle can’t last not even a second longer the moment you start to come around him. His eyes fall shut, his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bed, toes curling and legs shaking as he fucks his come inside of you, drool slipping down his parted mouth.

“Good job.” Simon’s voice remarks next to you, satisfied and almost… proud, while you’re both too lost in the high of pleasure to even recognize his existence in the room or that you’re… alive, really.

[izzyy-stuff]

Hi! Can I please request txt reaction to catching you masturbating for your 300 bash? I love your work!

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

TXT x fem!reader

wc 0.6k

warnings masturbation, toys used, pet names, established relationship except for Taehyun's, bsf!Taehyun, degrading in Taehyun's, squirting in Kai's, fingering + plushie humping in Kai's

↪ izzy speaks... don't have much to add except for the fact I miss soob :((

event post | event masterlist

YEONJUN runs his fingers through his dark hair, stepping inside your shared apartment after the long day. Dancing was fun but tiring. He couldn’t wait to cook dinner with you and relax on the couch with a cozy movie. However, his plans change as his eyes land on your figure. Your legs spread apart, one of your hands cupping your breast while the other works on your clit. You moan at the sensation from the vibrator in your pussy, your eyes closed shut. He watches with a smirk for a minute, slowly walking closer to you. You open your eyes only when his hands rest on your knees, holding your legs apart. “Looks like someone missed me today.” 

SOOBIN takes a bit to realize what he just saw. He just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay when you ran away so fast from the dinner table, but he definitely didn’t expect the reason for your absence to be this. “Binnie, come back in,” you whine from behind the door, making him snap out of his thoughts. He opens the bathroom door again, swallowing a lump in his throat as he closes the door behind himself, his eyes glued to your fingers fucking your pussy. “Everyone’s waiting for us,” he reminds you, but you shake your head. “You’re too hot. Need you,” you say, the puppy eyes you give him while still pleasuring yourself, making him hard. 

BEOMGYU was so cocky when he saw you bouncing up and down on a dildo, leaning at the door frame, admiring your naked figure. “Having fun without me? Princess couldn’t wait for me to wake up, huh?” He teases, making your eyes widen when you notice him. You want to stop and hide from embarrassment, but you can’t. Your body doesn’t want to stop. You’re so close, just a bit more, and then you can run away and hide from him, you tell yourself. He scoffs when your fingers find their way to your clit, massaging it to help you finish. But as much as he wants to tease you, he can’t stop himself from getting hard when you reach your orgasm, moaning out his name as you cum all over the plastic dildo. 

TAEHYUN shakes his head at you as if he is disappointed. But you notice the bulge in his pants, moaning his name. That much is enough for him, honestly. He doesn’t need to know why you’re in his bed, fucking yourself. All he needs is to hear more of your pretty moans. He unzips his pants, pulling them to his knees along with his boxers in one swift motion, making you clench around your fingers when you see his hard cock. “You’re nasty,” he scoffs, slowly jerking himself off as he walks closer to you. “Just a slut, aren’t you?” He opens your legs properly, taking a better look at your exposed cunt. “Fuck.”

HUENING’s eyes widen when he sees you in your shared bed, his favorite teddy bear between your legs. “Baby,” he speaks softly to let you know he’s in the room. You squeeze the bed sheets under yourself, unable to stop. A whine escapes your lips along with your boyfriend’s name, making his dick twitch. “I’m here, baby,” he coos, walking up to you. He lets you ride his plushie, cupping your breast and softly brushing over your nipples. “Want me to help?” You nod, almost desperately, and his fingers find your clit, playing with it for a second before he moves lower, pushing his two fingers into your pussy. “You’re so pretty,” he praises, kissing your lips as he fingers you. It doesn’t take much longer for him to bring you to your orgasm, and you end up squirting all over his favorite teddy bear, mumbling apologies while you try to catch up on your breath.

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆ Want to get notified? Join taglist here !

[spicyspiders]

search and destroy

Francis Mosses x male reader smut

1.7k words

This is role reversal where the reader is a milkman and Francis is the doorman. I wouldn’t say this is as dark as the fic with him I just posted is, but it’s still pretty dark. Francis uses his position of power/authority to preform a cavity search on the reader.

“Come with me, sir,” the man says from behind the window before a metal shutter falls, making you jump at the suddenness.

A door near the window opens, giving you a full view of the man. He looks bored and tired all at once, which you can’t really blame him for. You got bored too, delivering bottles of milk all day. Speaking of, it made you roll your eyes to be interrupted from your job, you had work to do.

You follow the man to a door that matches the one you just walked through. Instead of the hallway like the previous door had opened to, this one instead opened to a medical examination room. Why the fuck was this back here, you wondered.

“Lean forward with your hands against the wall,” the man said. At your look of unease, he gestured to the empty counter, “you can set that down right there.”

“Is this necessary?” You asked as you set the carrier down. The bottles were already sweating with condensation. You didn’t have time for this.

“Yes sir. I am just trying to make sure I can properly verify you,” the man says. You feel the heat of his body behind yours first before his hands are on your body, patting you down.

You had never been pat down before, and sure as hell didn’t expect to be while on the clock. It felt invasive, while also oddly intimate at the same time.

“May I take this off?” He asks, his hands on the sides of your hat. After you give a stiff nod, he pulls the hat off with much more care than you expected of him. “I will also need you to take this off.”

You gasp when you fill his hands on your hips, “I don’t think that’s necessary,” you respond, swatting his hands away before you turn to lean on the wall. You wished it would somehow open and swallow you up and take you away from this weird fucking situation.

“Sir,” the man says, looking like he’s using everything he has to keep from rolling his tired eyes. “I’m just trying to do my job,” he says calmly. “It will only take a few moments.”

Your eyes nervously look away to keep from having to make eye contact. Francis his name tag reads. When you’ve mustered up the courage to look back into his eyes, the man still standing there patiently, you nod.

“Once you’ve taken your pants and underwear off, sir, bend over the front of the examination table.”

Your heart hammers in your chest as you slowly pull the bottom half of your clothing off, your shoes going first. You don’t make eye contact with the man again as you place your clothing into his open arms.

The only thing you can do is do what the man asks and lean over the bed, trying your best to not crinkle the loud paper. Your mouth stays shut, even after you hear what sounds like the man rifling through your pockets.

You jump when a gloved hand comes into contact with your hip. You’re too in your own head to even register the way that the man says your name like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal. “Relax,” Francis commands softly, “this will go much smoother if you’re relaxed.”

You are able to register when he speaks next, “good boy,” he says, hating how the praise makes you feel better, if only a little.

Once again, you jump when one of his gloved fingers circles your hole, “my apologies for the temperature,” Francis says. The finger pushes in slowly, and as it does, your teeth sink into your bottom lip to keep from letting out the noise that you already feel growing in your throat.

“You’d be surprised where people hide things to try and sneak them in,” Francis says, letting out a humorless chuckle.

“You’ve had to do this before?” You ask, finding your voice before he presses his finger into that spot of pleasure you’re afraid he’ll find. You already feel embarrassed enough, you didn’t want to add getting a boner to that.

“It’s what I’ve heard from others,” he says as his finger goes deeper, “I was told to use any means necessary to complete my job correctly.”

So he’s never done this before? You wanted to ask before your fear becomes a reality as his slick finger finds the bundle of nerves that has pleasure shooting straight for your soft cock. You didn’t know what Francis was thinking he would find, but it seemed he found what he was hoping to find.

Your forehead, slick with sweat from nervousness falls to the bed as you try and do whatever you can to stifle the sounds that fall from your lips. However, Francis makes them tough to hide as he focuses in on the spot.

“No need to feel embarrassed,” he says, “another thing that I’ve heard is feeling pleasure is not unheard of during a cavity search.” His finger presses into the spot before the pad rubs over it, again and again. “In fact, it’s quite normal.”

Before you can bite too hard into your lips and pierce the skin, you let up and let the moans fall free from your mouth.

“I assume it does feel good?” Francis asks, dragging his fingers of his other hand down your taint until he can run his gloved fingers down your half-hard cock, “if this is anything to go by.”

“Yes,” you whisper, lifting your head to rest it on your arm. You spread your legs further for the man, and the noise of approval he makes goes straight to your cock.

“May I add another?” Francis asks, pulling his finger free.

”Yes,” you repeat.

With two of his fingers pressing deep into your body, you’re much more vocal than when you just had the one. You whine against the burn from the stretch of his two fingers, a pain that Francis alleviates when his fingers find your prostate again.

“Better?” He asks, not sounding bored, much to your surprise. “Would you like more?”

”I don’t know,” you sob as his fingers alternate between pressing against your prostate, and spreading to scissor you open.

“C’mon,” Francis chuckles darkly, “I know you can take it.”

”Please,” you whine, your hard cock aches between your legs. You didn’t even know what you were begging for. Was it for Francis to make you cum and get rid of the ache? Was it for him to stop and let you walk out on shaky legs to finish the rest of your deliveries?

”Shh, I know exactly what you need.” He whispers into your ear after he’s leaned down. What comes after the sound of his voice is the sound of a zipper coming undone.

You go tense at the feel of the blunt head of Francis’ cock at your hole. The sound of the man slicking his cock up hits your ears before it abruptly ends and his hands are wrapping tightly around your hips. Just from the feel of the head, you didn’t think just two of his fingers would be enough, but you still waited with bated breath.

You both groaned when Francis pushed in, just as slow as he did with his first finger. He doesn’t stop until his hips come into contact with your ass and his cock has carved its place inside your body.

“You walk around in that uniform,” Francis breathes into your ear before he’s pulling his cock free until the wet, spongy head is kissing your hole, “how could I not bring you back here,” he says before thrusting back inside.

The pain of the stretch from his cock is nearly too much, but the pleasure that overtakes that feeling when his cock hits your prostate makes it all worth it. It only takes a few thrusts for the pain to be a thing of the past, the only thing you’re left to focus on is the pleasure the man behind you is giving to you.

Though, giving would probably be the wrong word. You think the word hammering would be the better word as the slap of skin-on-skin echoes throughout the space.

Francis’ balls plap against your ass as yours draw up tight as your edge approaches. The only warning you can give is a jumble of noises, but alongside those noises is the flutter of your hole around Francis’ cock, which you assume is enough to warn the man before you clamp down on his cock as your orgasm rushes through your body.

From behind you, Francis moans from the stimulation to his cock. One of his hands releases the tight grip on your hips to go down to your cock to tug at your cock to get more of your cum out.

You collapse down onto the examination table, the paper wrinkled below your body. Your hips came into contact with the mess you made from your cock, making you glad that you wouldn’t have to clean the room afterwards. It made you wonder who would, and if they would come in before or after the smell of sex was gone from the room.

The hard cock pounding in and out of your hole came to a halt moments after yours had gone soft. It gave a valiant twitch as the man behind you moaned, knowing that his cock was pumping you full. In fact, it didn’t take long after Francis pulled out for his seed to start leaking from your hole.

There’s no way you were going to be able to look at your uniform without thinking of what you’ve just done. Hell, you’re going to have to burn the one you currently have and then request another one, but even then, the sight of it will be a reminder.

You hear the sound of Francis’ zipper, and then the sound of his shoes on the floor. The sound gets closer minutes later before you feel a wet, warm cloth between your legs.

“Easy,” he murmurs at the soft sounds you let out when the cloth runs over your sensitive hole and soft cock, “I’ve got you,” he says, one of his hands going back to your hips to hold you in place as he wipes you clean.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” You ask as you raise yourself up after the man steps away again.

“Yes sir. Thank you for your cooperation, you may now get dressed.”

[beelinx]

pink cat ear headphones

synopsis: your minecraft dogs went missing, and tomura looks mighty suspicious. also, he’s wearing pink cat ear headphones… okay then! warnings: kinda all around the place, and perhaps ooc tomura 😖 use of baby as a pet name + suggestive ending 1.3k words

if anyone were to look into the scene going on right now, they’d probably laugh and say it’s clearly fake. surely, the fearsome leader of the league of villains, the tomura shigaraki, couldn’t be sitting with his legs crossed, scratching his neck and munching on some chips while he plays minecraft.

wearing cat ear headphones.

pink cat ear headphones.

this simply looked way too ridiculous to ever be true, and yet here it was.

to be clear, though, the headphones did not belong to him.

his high quality headset (which did not have cat ears) broke a while back, after a couple of months of its quality slowly decaying. and, since the league had been pretty tight on money, he’d not been able to replace it yet. so, he had to look for the next best thing.

that being your cute, pink spare headphones.

honestly, he was not embarrassed by the headset itself. it was actually pretty good, the sound quality being almost on par with his old headset’s. and it was really comfortable, too. it sat snuggly on his head and provided sufficient blocking of outside noise.

also, they were yours. 

therefore, he loved them.

when he first tried them on, he’d worried about what his comrades would think about him wearing said device. he’d imagined toga or magne might like them, which somehow pissed him off. spinner might like them too, since the quality is good. mr. compress would probably say something about a fashion statement or whatever. twice could laugh at him, but tomura figured he didn’t mind what he thought very much. then there was dabi, who’d definitely get a kick out of seeing him wear the headset.

whatever, he couldn’t care less about what they thought now. not since you thought he looked cute wearing them.

“babe?”

he hummed in reply, too focused on the game right now to form a proper response.

“d’you know where my dogs are? i can’t find them anywhere, and i didn’t make them stand.” you asked him with your usual sweet voice.

he didn’t reply. mostly because he did know where your dogs were. well, they weren’t exactly anywhere, if he was really going to get down to it, because they got blown up by a creeper.

he felt guilty about it, especially because it was his fault. kinda. well, it was a mistake. 

tomura was returning to the base to store all he gathered in the mines, when a creeper snuck up on him. it blew up, immediately ending the lives of your three cute dogs. at the time, he blamed his battered headset for not letting him hear the monster on time, and he’d managed to ignore the issue, since you hadn’t joined the world in a while. now, though, you decided you wanted to play with him.

he was kinda lucky though, since you insisted on finding new animals for your farm, still blissfully oblivious to what had happened to your pets. meanwhile, tomura was desperately trying to find new wolves to bring to the base. his current plan, once he’d successfully captured the animals, was to then distract you to do something else, or wait until you had to go to the bathroom, and tame them on your account. then, he’d use the dye and name tags he’d premade, to properly ensure you wouldn’t tell the difference between your original dogs and these new impostors.

it was going smoothly. 

until this.

he replied slowly, not wanting to bring suspicion unto himself, “...they aren’t at the base?”

“no, they’re not where i left them,” you pouted. he risked a look at you, your eyebrows furrowed as you desperately looked for the three creatures.

“i’m at the netherworld right now, i’ll help you look when i leave,” he replied, glad that his setup was out of view for you, so he could lie about this. then, before you could say anything else, he added, “maybe they despawned? they didn’t have any name tags on them.”

that was a reach, a really desperate one at that. he knew that, but he silently hoped that your minecraft knowledge was lacking and you wouldn’t realize.

“but they’re dogs? i tamed them, so they shouldn’t despawn,” he silently cursed himself for teaching you the game all those days back, “can creepers explode if something else triggers them? like beside the players?”

okay, admittedly, he considered lying to you again. the possibilities of his plan working tempting him incredibly. but, something was compelling him to tell you the truth. so, he did. in the sweetest, most loving way possible.

“i fucking blew them up.”

oh.

“…you what?”

“a creeper snuck up on me and blew them to pieces,” he rasped, “i was getting you new ones but since you’re so nosy.”

tomura rolled his eyes to finish off his statement. you merely stared at him in pure shock. why wouldn’t he tell you? losing your dogs made you sad, but you didn’t mind so much, since you knew it was an accident. also, no matter how indifferent he tries to seem, you know better. just the fact he was trying to replace your dogs without letting you know as to not to hurt your feelings tells you all you need to know:

tomura shigaraki cares for you, and he’s willing to do or say anything if it means ensuring your happiness.

his way of demonstrating this was a little… rough, but he couldn’t hide his true self from you, not when you know him so well.

“baby… i don’t mind the dogs, i know you didn’t mean to,” you assured him, “i just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me? you know i wouldn’t have gotten mad at you, especially since it was a mistake.”

he didn’t turn to look at you, his mind still glued to the screen, where he was still on the hunt for wild wolves, “i wanted to get them for you before you realized. that’s it.”

your face broke into a soft, lovesick smile at his words. sure, they didn’t sound that sweet on the exterior, but you knew tomura, and you knew videogames were his love language. him giving you a minecraft flower would basically be the equivalent of giving you an engagement ring. therefore, to you this felt like him playing you a boombox outside your window to apologize for a mistake. 

“awww,” you cooed at him, “that’s so cute, tomura! you really wanted me to not get upset, huh? you’re the sweetest ever!” you giggled as you jumped on his lap.

“yeah, whatever,” he hissed back, one hand scratching his neck while the other held you at your waist, the game now discarded, merely serving as background noise. he avoided eye contact with you, his eyes trained on his desk. still though, you swore you could make out a light, pink dusting on his cheeks.

“well actually… i think i deserve some sort of compensation for this,” you faked an exaggerated pout at him, “you know, for killing my poor, innocent dogs.”

tomura’s grip on your hip grew tighter, as he replied, his voice husky, “what kind of compensation?”

you giggled softly, and instead of replying, you grabbed his chin and connected both of your lips. he kissed you back eagerly, using his grip on your hips to bring you closer to him. his hands started to wander, but before he could get any ideas, you pulled away.

“that’s it, enough compensation,” you told him, grinning cheekily.

“are you serious?” he hissed back at you in reply.

“what?” you asked him, feigning innocence, “i’m still grieving my dogs, you know.”

he rolled his eyes, “you are so annoying.”

without another word, he picked you up and threw you on the bed, making sure to compensate you properly for the incident.