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strawberrymochin · 4 months ago

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader

synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—

warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending

w.c- 8.2k (have faith)

a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!

When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old.

You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face.

It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.

And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you.

“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom.

Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word.

He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?”

You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.”

Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name.

“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.”

By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games.

That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur.

By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you.

Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school.

You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind.

Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you.

However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry.

Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes.

He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then.

“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench.

He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?

The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him.

Class 1-2.

Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind.

As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours.

He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him.

That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight.

As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat.

With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk.

That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him.

The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number.

Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class.

Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone.

Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you.

This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.

This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours.

His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change.

So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school.

“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room.

Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat.

Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag.

You flinched.

Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze.

One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.

Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently.

The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.

“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.”

Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy.

He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace.

That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others.

The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away.

You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining.

He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious.

He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.

Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you.

And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.

Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse.

He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection.

Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found.

He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18.

He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him.

“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?”

“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass.

“Should visit him then.”

“Forget it.”

“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused.

“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.”

“Did yaga find out about this?”

“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”

“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete.

Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento.

They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to—

“Find a new one.”

“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”

“How am I supposed to?”

“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.”

“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.

He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes.

Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe.

“Sup!”

Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do.

“All good?”

“Yeah, what do you need?”

“Just a little favour.”

“And what that might be?”

“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.”

Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.”

“Yes please…”

“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.”

“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.

“Get the other two packets out.”

“Sure.”

Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home.

And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.

Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.”

“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind.

It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.

“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you.

“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?”

You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’.

“I'm—”

“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.”

You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him.

“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes.

His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.

“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club.

“So…you're the only one?”

“Huh?”

“In the band— i mean…”

“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…”

You humm, taking a proper look at the club.

“You like it?”

“It has vibrant colours.”

Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.

“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?”

“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.”

“you do originals?”

“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.”

Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you.

“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?”

“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.

“geto…geto suguru.”

“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.”

“Oh.”

Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter.

Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.

“You didn't answer my question…”

“I guess I found you for our band.”

When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.

“You know how to play?”

“Err…no.”

“I can teach you.”

He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you.

“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms.

“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings.

“Like this?” you ask him.

“Yes, you're doing very well.”

The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it.

Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart.

Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes.

Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks.

Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips.

“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch.

He quickly leaves your hand.

“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile.

“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…”

“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence.

Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.

Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes.

“For that I might need your number—”

“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you.

“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.”

“Kky!”

You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave.

“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.”

“Ah— no I can't do that.”

“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably.

“No i rea—”

“consider it as a gift— from me.”

You frowned a bit but agreed anyway.

“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!”

He waved back to you.

“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left.

“nothing.”

Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it.

Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members.

He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him.

You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.”

“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.

“Satoru?”

“Y-yes.”

“You liked it?”

“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently.

It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving.

And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time.

His heart fluttered at the thought.

“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!”

The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds.

The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set.

The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins.

Will you be cheering too?

Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience.

And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music.

His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him.

The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it.

The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”

As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform.

The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him.

The still air felt electric as he approached you.

“you liked the show?”

“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.

“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance.

“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.”

“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.”

“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—”

“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines.

“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”

“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.

“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of.

Finally he'd be alone with you.

He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out.

It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you.

“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.”

“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.

The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.

He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt.

Your heart practically jolts at his action.

The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position.

“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway.

“In the downtown.”

“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.

“I can't let you do that.”

“Why?”

“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.”

“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.”

You turn your face from the window to look at him.

“What?”

“I will have to— to teach you guitar.”

You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.

“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.”

“Why not!”

Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes.

And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain.

You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for.

You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.

You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—

Your world was only limited to papers and paints.

So you painted.

You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.

You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.

But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life.

But how can you?

How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care.

How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?

Or maybe it's just your overthinking.

Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special.

“What are you thinking baby?”

You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…”

“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder.

“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.

“I've been starving.”

You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break.

Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other.

“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes.

“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts.

Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.”

An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—

“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.”

You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—”

“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others.

Satoru points at you.

“I just got here. You can't leave already.”

“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.”

Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.

They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?”

“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her.

She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.

“What— “

“What do you think of gojo?”

A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.

You ears turn red.

“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”

“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face.

“A-a nice friend.”

“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications.

Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?”

Yura shrugged.

The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt.

Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.

“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered.

Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face.

The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.

“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm.

“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy.

“About gojo being interested in you…”

“I-i don't think so.”

You try to laugh it off.

“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.”

Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again.

Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.

The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.

The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.

“No.”

Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him.

Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home.

It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor.

He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset?

You'd said it was nothing.

Then why?

What the fuck did he messed up?

Satoru missed you terribly and violently.

He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber.

You lied to him.

“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line.

“I'm sorry—”

“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”

You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.

“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table.

“Nothing.”

“Then come.”

You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal.

And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him.

“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.”

You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine.

One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room.

“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you.

His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall, pinning you caging your body.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Gojo you're hurting m—”

“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?”

“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.

“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—”

“why?”

“Don't pretend like you don't know…”

“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”

“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.

“No you don't.”

“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.”

Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest.

“B-but I wrote you a note confes—”

“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly.

“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”

His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.

“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago.

She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.

Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile.

“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm.

You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip.

He pulls away again.

“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.

His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?”

His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm.

“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well.

He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud.

Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness.

He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.”

Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit.

“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit.

Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.

He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers.

He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.

“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you.

A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…”

The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.

Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside.

Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru.

“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry.

“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck.

Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.

“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.

No— you mouthed.

Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum.

You gape at his girth.

It was big.

And fucking thick.

Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”

You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in.

A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.

He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size.

Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him.

He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.

“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?”

You were at a loss for words.

The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard.

When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him.

He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss.

“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—”

Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.

“Tell me—”

Thrust

“do you—”

Thrust

“still think I'm just being polite?”

Thrust.

The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans.

The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall.

Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…”

Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.

You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.

Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.

The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins.

None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair.

He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall.

“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you.

“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise.

You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.”

“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.”

You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…

He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.”

Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.

To paint his heart with your love.

“I will.”

“no wait— marry me instead!”

You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.

Finally he would be yours.

you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.

Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala

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starkeysbunny · 1 month ago

Text

fashion killa

cause she a fashion killa, and i’m a trendy ….

pairing - drew x model!baddie!gf!reader

summary - when drew heads to coachella for the first time with his girl, who’d been many times due to her job. the it couple known for their fashion sense, dancing in tune to songs at the festival rials up both them, and the crowd.

warnings - sexual tension :p

⠀.ᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ೃ❀࿔˙ ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ೃ❀ᮬ࿔˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ೃ❀࿔˙ ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ೃ❀ᮬ࿔˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ

the sun was beating down harshly, gusts of wind blowing dust all around. i felt drew’s arm pull me closer under his grasp. his strong bicep, wrapped around my shoulders.

“baby, ‘should pull the bandana up.” he says gently, his fingers reaching around by my neck to fiddle with the bandana wrapped around it.

“it’s too hot. i’ll get sweaty.” i mumble.

he sighs, his hand coming up to run through his hair. “but dust is gonna get all in your-“

“not happening.” i smile softly, turning my head to look up at him.

he chuckles, his hands lifting in mock surrender, his arm stays wrapped around my shoulder though. “alright, alright. i’ll stop.”

drew and i were at coachella. he’d never been before, and i go nearly every year. after the first two times, it wasn’t because i wanted to go anymore. it was because brands would hire me to go just so they could design my outfits for the three day festival in the palm springs dessert heat.

so naturally, drew and i being together for the past eight months, it was his turn to be dragged along to this event.

“i don’t get the hype. i mean, yeah, it’s fun, whatever. but like, why pay all this money to be severely dehydrated and covered in dust for three days?” he had told me earlier while we were ironically enough, in the encapsulated and air conditioned vip tent.

we were currently watching doja cat’s set. we stood in the vip section near the front, which was to the left side of the stage by the regular ga pit.

i was wearing a low rise denim skirt that barely held in my ass, a vintage chanel crop, paired with givenchy boots and my layers of gold jewelry. bangles on my wrists, a necklace, hoops, and many, many rings.

while drew, of course, wore his carhart brown work pants, and a loewe white tee, with a blue bandana wrapped around his head.

doja cat was currently playing, starting her song agora hills. i turn slightly to reach into my shoulder bag—which was on drew’s shoulder because why would i carry it when i had him? i grab a piece of gum, sticking it between my glossed lips.

i look up at drew to see him already grinning down at me. the slight scruff growing around his jaw and the mullet peeking out behind his neck making my stomach flutter. “want a piece?” i ask sweetly.

he shakes his head. “nah, thank you though, baby.”

i close up my purse and pat it gently as it rests comfortably, secure in drew’s bicep.

i turn back to face the stage, drew’s arm now fully wrapped around my chest, his hand grasping onto the opposite shoulder as he holds me close against his chest. i sway against him, my hips moving as i watch the performance. i chuckle when i hear a certain part of the song that i knew.

i look up at drew from my spot against his chest, a smug smile on my lips.

“rub it in their face,” i begin reciting the lyrics, my hand lightly tapping against his chest at each accent in the lyrics. “put a rock on her hand.” i raise my eyebrows, wiggling my left hand in his face teasingly.

he smirks, a small snicker escaping his lips. i turn back to the stage and i feel him lean down slightly, his lips snaking against my ear. “don’t worry, baby.” he whispers. “one day you’ll be walking down the runway with a rock on your hand. my little wifey.” he teases, gently biting down on my ear playfully.

i smile, feeling his arm pull me tighter into his chest. my manicured nails come up to hold onto his forearm against me. my eyes drift over to the ga side of the crowd, and see a huge majority of the audience’s phones no longer on doja—but pointed and zoomed in on drew and i’s interaction.

ever since drew and i started dating, the speculations and whispers were circling like wildfire. the it girl model with the new up and coming actor. who wouldn’t talk about it? but we had hoped to keep it private the first couple months—just us, no outside thoughts.

and we did, not officially confirming anything until about our fourth month in. even then, we didn’t actually confirm. our relationship is private, but not a secret. we don’t really post each other, maybe once or twice. but, drew and i couldn’t give two shits about any of it. we knew we were real, and that’s all that mattered.

“oh, they’re gonna eat that shit up, babe.” drew chuckles lowly, catching the same thing i saw.

i shrug. “let them. if all those girls that obsess over you think we’re married, maybe they’ll back off.” i joke with a smirk.

he scoffs. “you think those are your biggest problems? what about all the guys that have a subscription to vogue and cosmopolitan just to see you? i swear walkin’ in to this damn festival, why’d you think my hand was on your ass tryna hold down this little skirt, huh?”

i shake my head with a chuckle, smacking his chest playfully. “you love this skirt.” i turn slightly in his arms, my glossy lips pouting up at him.

he snuggly grins, his hands reaching around and squeezing my ass in the skirt, lifting me slightly with it to bring me closer to his lips. “hell yeah, i do, baby.”

it was now ten at night, the air simmering down to a much cooler temperature. drew and i were making our way back to the main stage for the headliner, asap rocky.

we were walking in tune, in the space between the barricade and the stage, security guiding us and trailing us. drew’s arm was lazily draped around my shoulders, my left hand holding his by neck. my bracelet jangle as we walk, my hips swaying in my skirt that had somehow gotten lower as the day went on. i think it was because drew kept pulling is down every chance he got…

my bandana was now wrapped around my head. as we were many drinks in at this point, earlier we were in the vip tent and i was slurring, all over drew as i rambled about how i wanted to match with him, so he helped me and tied my bandana around my head like his.

the crowd scrambled loudly when they noticed us walking by the barricade, screaming, clamoring, flashes from cameras. i grin, when i feel drew instinctively pull me closer into his side, my scantily clad body pulled tight into his warm frame.

“y/n! drew! oh my god!”

“y/n, give me a chance!”

“drew! drew! i love you!”

“you’re so hot, y/n!”

“marry me!”

i giggle under my breath and look up at drew, seeing him roll his eyes subtly at their comments. we finally make it over to the vip section. it was much more crowded now, and drew situated us so i was standing in front of him, pulled flush against his chest so i could watch the show and he could keep an eye on everything.

i hardly needed security when i had drew.

we waited patiently, quietly talking as we waited for the show to start

then, the lights went down, strobe lights flashing as the intro of fashion killa started.

i grin, turning in drew’s arms to face him. “it’s our song!”

he smiles. “it is,” he chuckles lowly.

my arms lace around his neck, his hands finding their home on my hips. i move to the music, a grin on my lips as i move my hips.

“cause she a fashion killa..” i giggle, my head plopping into drew’s chest.

“and i’m a trendy..” he trails off, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

the song continues and i look up at him, my gold jewelry blinging in the lights. he smirks with a chuckle, singing along to the lyrics.

“my bitch a fashion killa, she be..” his hand comes to my ass, tapping it at each beat. “busy,” .. tap. “poppin,” .. tap. “tags.” .. tap.

“she got a lotta prada,” he grabs my hands, extending his arms as he swings me out, then pulls me back in close to him. “that dolce and gabbana,” he chuckles as he bops his head.

i giggle, burying my head in the crook of his neck. he grabs my arms again, his hands sliding up from my forearms to my wrists as he lifts them above my head. “wearin’ all the cartier frames..” he chuckles as he sings with asap.

we continue to dance and i turn around for a part of the song, my back against drew’s chest. i reach into my purse on drew’s shoulder, pulling out my camcorder. i record part of asap singing the song before drew snatches the camera from my hands, making me turn around.

he starts to film me to the song and i chuckle, my hands sliding down my waist to my hips, rolling them, my jewelry dancing with my movements. he groans, throwing his head back. he stops the recording and stuffs the camera back in my bag, his hands quickly coming to my hips and pulling me back into him.

“fuck, baby…” he says under his breath. his hands come up to my cheeks, holding my face close to his. “baby, you and me…” he sings.

“me and you.” i finish with a grin, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug against his chest.

the song continued, drew and i playfully dancing around, singing, hands all over each other. the night went on, drew taking videos of me on the camcorder, me stealing it back taking videos of him. my ass against his front as he rolled my hips against him, drinks making us a bit bolder in public.

almost everyone in the regular ga, somewhere throughout the set, lost their attention off asap, us captivating their gaze instead.

there would be millions of videos online tomorrow of us—but we didn’t care anymore. it wasn’t a secret. it was just private. just us.

what i imagine the camcorder looks like at the end of the night… 😝

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #drewstarkeyxmodel!reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx fic #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #protective rafe #rafe x reader

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tender-rosiey · 2 months ago

Note

req- jujutsu characters physically straining themselves and asking yn for help

take care:)

"I'M ONE CRAMP AWAY FROM A MELTDOWN"

— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji physically straining themselves and asking for help

GOJO SATORU:

satoru is sprawled on the floor, looking like he’s been hit by a truck, though you know he’s just playing it up.

his dramatic groans echo around the room, the kind that would make anyone believe he’s on the verge of death.

“wifeyyyy,” he groans, one arm flung dramatically over his eyes as he lays flat on his back. “I think I’m dying.”

you glance at him, deadpan. “from what, exactly?”

“from sheer exhaustion,” he replies, his voice dripping with mock despair. “it’s the worst kind of pain. the kind you can’t fight.”

you cross your arms, watching him for a moment. “really? because I’m pretty sure you’re exaggerating.”

“exaggerating?”

satoru lifts his hand weakly, like he’s reaching out for help. “I wish I were. But no, sweetheart, this is real. I’ve given everything to protect this world, and now—now I’m paying the price.”

you sigh, rolling your eyes, but you can’t help but feel a little amused by his theatrics.

still, there’s no denying that he’s probably worn out from the mission, even if he’s acting like a drama king about it.

“alright, alright,” you say, bending down next to him. “but if you’re truly in this much pain, maybe you should let me help you.”

his eyes flash with relief the moment you say that. he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. “oh, you’re such a lifesaver, wifey. I knew I could count on you.”

you smirk, kneeling next to him. “I’m not sure how much I can help with your exaggerated suffering, but I’ll give it a shot.”

satoru immediately sits up, all too eager, his arm still draped over your shoulder as if he’s the one about to collapse at any second.

you guide him onto the couch, a little more forcefully than he probably expected. he lets out an exaggerated gasp of thanks, making a show of how much effort it took.

“now, my shoulders,” he says, voice full of mock desperation, “they’re absolutely killing me. no one has shoulders as heavy as mine.”

you raise an eyebrow but don’t argue. “I can’t believe I love you,” you mutter, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

you start massaging gently, fingers working through the tight muscles that are starting to give way beneath your touch.

satoru’s whole body seems to relax under your hands.

“mmm, that’s the stuff,” he sighs dramatically, his head tilting back as if you’ve just performed some kind of miracle. “you’re so good at this. how do you manage to be perfect in every way?”

you roll your eyes, but your hands keep working, pressing into the sore muscles along his shoulder blades.

his response is immediate—he melts further into the couch, eyes half-lidded as he hums with contentment.

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he mutters. “this is pure bliss, sweets. no one else could do this to me like you do.”

“yeah, yeah,” you say, giving him a kiss on his cheek that makes him melt yet again against the couch.

GETO SUGURU:

suguru stumbles into the living room, looking completely drained, his shoulders sagging as he lets out a soft groan.

he rubs his eyes before glancing at you. "I think I’ll just take a bath and call it a day."

you raise an eyebrow, already sensing his exhaustion. "you sure? I could help, you know."

suguru shakes his head, grinning weakly. "I’m fine. Really. I can manage."

a few moments later, suguru is in the warm bath, steam rising lazily from the water.

he leans back, letting his muscles relax as he sinks into the tub, his body visibly easing into the heat. you stand behind him, fingers gently working through his hair, lathering the shampoo into his scalp.

the soft scent of lavender fills the air, mixing with the quiet splashing of water as your hands move through his hair.

suguru sighs, his body melting into the heat. "I am a weak man," he mutters.

you let out a small laugh, fingers moving in slow, soothing circles. his muscles are finally unwinding, and you can feel the weight of his day leaving him, bit by bit.

"yeah?" you tease softly, grinning. "but, you know, I think I’m pretty good at this, huh?"

he chuckles lazily, his voice low and relaxed. "you’re amazing," he admits, his tone affectionate. "I’m lucky to have you around."

you glance at him, still working through his hair, and playfully raise an eyebrow. "how about you? how was your day?"

suguru lets out a small sigh, clearly unwinding further at the sound of your voice.

“long. you know how it is. a million things to do and never enough time for it." he grins a little. "but it’s always better when I’m with you."

you shake your head, laughing softly. "you’re lucky I’ve got the patience to deal with you."

suguru raises a hand, giving a lazy wave. "You’re doing more than that. I’m starting to think you could make a career out of this."

you smirk, rubbing the shampoo deeper into his hair. "please, I have better things to do than take care of you all the time."

suguru cracks an eye open, a playful glint shining through. he reaches out, grabbing your wrist gently. "I don’t know about that. this is pretty nice."

you shrug casually, your smile warm. "someone’s got to look after you."

the bath continues in peaceful silence for a while, only the sounds of water splashing softly around you.

suguru’s body relaxes further, his tense muscles finally letting go. he sinks deeper into the tub, eyes closed again, a contented smile on his lips.

"thanks," he says quietly.

you continue washing his hair, the smile on your face softening. "anytime, silly.”

suguru chuckles softly, "you know, you’re kind of perfect."

you roll your eyes, but your fingers never stop working through his hair. "you’re delirious, suguru. stop with the nonsense."

suguru gives a lazy smile, his eyes still closed. "no, I mean it. you’re beautiful, and I’m lucky you married me, my beautiful, pretty, kind—"

before he can say anything else, you splash him with water. "okay, okay! enough with the sappy stuff!"

NANAMI KENTO:

the sound of a low, frustrated sigh greets you as you walk into the living room.

you spot kento sitting on the floor, his back straight against the couch, head tilted slightly as though trying to work out a knot in his neck.

his usual composed expression is marred with a faint furrow of irritation.

“kento?” you call, stepping closer. “why are you sitting on the floor like someone left you there?”

“it’s nothing,” he replies too quickly, brushing off the question. but the way his hand instinctively moves to rub the back of his neck betrays him. “just…tired.”

you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “tired? or is this about your neck? because you’ve been hunched over paperwork for hours, haven’t you?”

kento doesn’t answer right away, but his silence is telling.

he sighs and tilts his head back to meet your gaze, looking more like the overworked salaryman he used to be before he rejoined jujutsu tech.

“It’s just a bit stiff. I’ll manage.”

“oh, you’ll manage,” you echo, crouching down in front of him. “right up until you can’t turn your head tomorrow. then what?”

he narrows his eyes slightly, as if to say I’m not that fragile, but you cut him off before he can protest.

“kento,” you say firmly, softening your tone, “you’re literally built like a tank, but even tanks need maintenance. let me help.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” he mutters, his voice quiet but sincere. “you’ve had a long day too.”

“and yet I have plenty of energy to take care of my husband,” you reply, smirking. “now come on, just humor me.”

kento hesitates for a moment. eventually, he relents with a soft sigh. “fine.”

you shift to kneel behind him, your fingers already reaching for the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders.

“lean forward a bit,” you instruct, and when he does, you gently press your thumbs into the tight spots, working in slow, deliberate circles.

kento lets out a low, contented hum that sends warmth flooding through your chest.

“see?” you tease, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to the top of his head. “not so bad, right?”

“it’s…enjoyable,” he says, though his voice carries a faint warmth that tells you he’s enjoying this far more than he’s letting on.

you chuckle, your hands moving to his shoulders. “you know, I’d say you owe me for this, but I think this is my repayment.”

“repayment for what?”

“for saving you,” you quip, grinning. “because if you’d stayed like that any longer, you’d have turned into a statue.”

kento exhales a quiet laugh, his head tilting slightly as your fingers find another sore spot. “you’re relentless.”

“only because I love you,” you reply with a wink, leaning forward to press your cheek against his for a moment.

he reaches up, catching one of your hands and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “and I love you too.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

sukuna’s broad frame fills the doorway as he strides into the room, his bloodstained robes trailing behind him.

you glance up from your seat, unimpressed by the spectacle. it’s the usual aftermath of his “excursions.”

he’s all sharp angles and arrogance, but there’s a stiffness in his movements that you don’t miss.

“back already?” you ask, arching a brow as you sip your tea.

he scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “they were weaklings. barely worth my time.”

yet, as he lowers himself onto a cushion with a low grunt, his shoulders twitch ever so slightly. he rolls one, then the other, his jaw tightening just enough for you to catch it.

“something wrong?” you ask, your tone feigning innocence, though your sharp gaze betrays your amusement.

“watch yourself,” he warns, crimson eyes narrowing. “you forget who you’re speaking to.”

“hard to forget when you insist on reminding me every other breath,” you reply dryly, setting your cup down and standing.

“but I’m also observant enough to know when you’re too proud to admit you’re in pain.”

“I’m not in pain,” he snaps, though the way his hand instinctively moves to his neck betrays him.

“of course not,” you agree, stepping closer with a smug tilt of your head. “the great sukuna couldn’t possibly be sore after annihilating half the countryside.”

he glares at you, his pride clearly battling the ache in his shoulders. “you’re playing with fire, woman.”

“and yet you haven’t burned me yet,” you counter with a sly smile. “turn around.”

he doesn’t move, his jaw tightening as if to challenge you. but when you cross your arms and stare him down with an unimpressed look, he huffs and turns his back to you.

“stubborn,” you mutter under your breath, stepping behind him. his shoulders are massive, the tension in them practically radiating.

you place your hands on them, and he immediately stiffens.

“relax,” you say, kneading the taut muscles beneath your fingers. “I’m not trying to kill you.”

“pity,” he mutters, though there’s a begrudging amusement in his tone.

you press your thumbs into a particularly tight knot, and he lets out a low, involuntary sound—not quite a groan but enough to make you smirk.

“see? even you can’t argue with results,” you tease, leaning closer as your hands work into his shoulders.

“you’re enjoying this too much,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t pull away. if anything, he leans into your touch, his body betraying him.

for a while, the room is quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the hearth and the sound of your hands working against his muscles.

you press a little harder into a stubborn knot, and he exhales sharply.

“still acting tough?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“I am tough, you insolent wife,” he retorts, but the edge in his voice has dulled.

you chuckle, brushing a stray lock of his hair aside with one hand while the other presses into his neck. the gesture is so tender, enough that sukuna goes still for a moment.

“your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, your fingers trailing briefly over the side of his face before pulling back.

he turns his head slightly, his crimson gaze meeting yours over his shoulder.

you notice the slight softening of his eyes before he scoffs, rolling his shoulders as you step back little. “you’re getting too comfortable.”

“how scandalous,” you hum, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

he frowns, hand moving to hold the back of your head as he pulls you closer.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

toji stumbles through the bedroom door, a look of mild exhaustion on his face. his shirt’s torn at the sleeve, a fresh scrape on his cheek, and he’s limping just slightly, though he's trying to hide it. you glance up from your book, raising an eyebrow.

“you’re a mess,” you say, putting your book down.

he groans. “I’m fine. Just got into a little scuffle with a couple of idiots.” he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it carelessly onto the chair, wincing slightly as he pulls it off.

you tilt your head, inspecting him carefully. “uh-huh. that’s the same thing you always say. you’re looking a little too beat up to be fine.”

toji snorts. “it’s nothing. just a bruise here, scratch there—don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you raise your hands in mock surrender, but your eyes narrow playfully. “uh-huh. right. and I suppose your limp is just for fun too?”

toji looks down at his leg, then back at you, clearly trying to avoid the topic. “I’m fine, alright? really. you don’t need to play nurse tonight.”

you get up from the couch, walking over to him with a slight smirk. “I’m not playing nurse, toji. but if you’re going to act like a stubborn idiot, I guess I’ll have to do something about it.” you poke at his shoulder lightly, knowing full well he hates being fussed over.

he lets out a low, tired chuckle. “yeah, yeah. I know. you’ve got a thing for fixing me up.”

you roll your eyes, tugging at his shirt and guiding him toward the couch. “I’m not fixing you up. I’m just stopping you from walking around like a zombie for the rest of the night.”

he lets out an exaggerated groan, but he sinks down onto the couch anyway. “you’re lucky you’re cute. go ahead, doctor.”

you sit beside him and start gently untying his shoes. “you always say that when you’re trying to avoid admitting you need help.”

toji lifts an eyebrow, looking amused. “I don’t need help. I just like your hands on me.” he smirks.

you shake your head, unbothered. “just sit still for a second, alright?”

he chuckles as you work, peeling off his shoes and massaging the tension out of his feet. you can feel the stress in his muscles, the fatigue from the day’s battle lingering.

“see?” you poke at his calf with your finger. “this is what happens when you refuse to listen. you get all tense and grumpy.”

toji groans, but it’s not from pain. he stretches his leg out further, enjoying the relief. “you know, this doesn’t feel too bad…”

“you’re welcome,” you tease, your hands moving up his legs, working on his calves. “maybe next time you won’t play the ‘I’m fine’ card when you’re clearly not.”

he grins and looks down at you, his eyes softening just a bit. “I’ll think about it, but no promises. you know how I am.”

you laugh quietly, continuing your work. “yeah, I do. stubborn to a fault.” you finish with his feet, giving them a final rub before standing up. “alright, mister, I’m done here. go rest up before I have to start giving you more ‘doctor visits.’”

“I didn’t know you were into roleplay—”

“one more word, and you will be kissing the couch tonight.”

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heartsbyani · 3 months ago

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⋆˙⟡ ⌇ 방찬 : UNDERNEATH THE SHEETS ── aftercare with your boyfriend, after a particularly long and rough night.

𓍯 idolbf!chan ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）0.8k ── ༯ HEADCANON, fluff, humour, care, req. by anon! . ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ okay, this may have come as a surprise since i don't post any mdni content.. however it is mostly unexplicit ! thank you to my lovely anon for requesting this, hope i have written it to your expectations! (╥﹏╥). though i may have had a hard time writing this lmao. comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

“are you sure you’re okay?” his voice was soft, but there was a slight tremor in it — a clear indication of how worried he was.

the room was steeped in a comforting silence, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioner and the rustle of soft sheets as his girlfriend shifted slightly. the glow from the moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting silvery streaks over the rumpled bed. chan, who was nuzzled in the curve of her neck, looked up slightly to see her flushed-and-fucked-out face, breath heavy. his eyes, apologetic and half lidded, his expression a mix of concern and tenderness.

her hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, but her eyes sparkled with affection. she reached out, cupping his jaw in her hand, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “i told you, i'm as good as ever, chris.”

he frowned, clearly unconvinced, his brows furrowing in that adorable way that always made her heart flip, as he lifted himself slightly to look at her better. “was i too rough? did i hurt you? can you walk? you don't need to lie i can delay my schedule tomorrow-”

"what? no, no!" y/n frowned, and leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “chan, baby, i literally told you it was amazing, like, five times already. you didn’t hurt me, at all. i told you i was okay with it and i really am.”

“if anything, i’m kinda hoping for a repeat performance sometime soon.”

that made him flush a deep crimson, his ears turning a shade of pink that she absolutely adored. he groaned, burying his face in his hands, muttering, “oh my god, you’re gonna kill me.”

"really, can't believe that you're all shy now considering how you were practically cho-"

he groaned, falling back down and nuzzling into her neck as his hands covered his crimson ears, while the girl under him only laughed.

she tugs his hands away so she could see his whole face. “i mean it, though. you were incredible.” her fingers traced gentle patterns along his forearm, grounding him. “but,” she added with a small smile, “i do love seeing this side of you, too. all soft and caring and…” she paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “a little overdramatic.”

“overdramatic?” he echoed, feigning offense, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “i’m just making sure you’re okay! is that a crime?”

“not at all,” she said, leaning in to kiss him softly. her lips lingered against his for a moment before she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. “but seriously, chan. i’m okay. i feel… happy. loved. really, really good.”

he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing a little. “okay,” he murmured. “if you’re sure.”

“i’m sure.” she smiled, tucking herself closer to him, her head resting against his chest. his heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, a soothing rhythm that made her feel completely at ease.

chan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. his fingers trailed up and down her back in slow, gentle strokes, the gesture both comforting and intimate. “you’re amazing, you know that?” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i don’t deserve you.”

y/n tilted her head to look up at him, her expression softening. “don’t say that,” she murmured, reaching up to brush her fingers through his curls. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, chris. i’d choose you a thousand times over.”

his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, emotion flickering in his dark eyes. “you’re too good to me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” she teased, poking his chest lightly. “you’re literally the sweetest, most thoughtful person ever. and, not to mention, ridiculously handsome.”

he chuckled, his cheeks tinting pink again. “you’re biased.”

“maybe a little,” she admitted with a grin. “but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

they lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other. chan’s hands never stopped moving—one smoothing over her hair, the other tracing invisible shapes along her spine. y/n felt herself relaxing further, her body melting into his warmth.

“do you want some water?” he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence. “or hot cocoa to make up? i can get you something if you’re hungry.”

she laughed softly, shaking her head. “i’m good, just tired. just wanna stay here with you.”

his lips curved into a small smile as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “okay. but if you need anything, you tell me, yeah?”

“i will,” she promised, nuzzling closer. “you’re such a worrier.”

“can you blame me?” he said, his tone light but sincere. “i just… i care about you. so much.”

her heart swelled at his words, and she tilted her head to capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. when she pulled back, she rested her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “i care about you, too. more than you know.”

they stayed like that, tangled up in each other, sharing soft whispers and quiet laughter. chan’s initial worry had melted away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and to him, she was.

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ohproserpine · 1 year ago

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i. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love

"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"

"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"

“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”

"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"

"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."

Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."

Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."

"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him.

Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~"

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"

Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."

Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."

"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.

Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."

"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."

“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”

Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."

“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”

"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”

Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town.

A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.

It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers."

Charming.

With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman.

Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow.

As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.

"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"

"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"

‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'

"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”

Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."

Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.

"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.

Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.

Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.

"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.

The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.

Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.

As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"

Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"

"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.

In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.

Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale

The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.

He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.

She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around

As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.

“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.

Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.

The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.

"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”

With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.

‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.

Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.

There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features.

“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.

"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.

Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "

"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."

A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.

"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"

"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."

Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."

“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.

With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.

Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead.

This man could fucking dance.

As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.

"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.

"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."

After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.

"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.

Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."

While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.

As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose.

What were you doing to him?

"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"

Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.

"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.

Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."

Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.

Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.

However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.

"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."

Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.

Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.

"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout.

"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."

Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"

He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.

"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"

“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.

“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."

You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."

Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.

"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said.

Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.

"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.

With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit.

Yes, he shall see you very soon.

Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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chrissturnsfav · 3 months ago

Note

but the way rapper!chris would fuck singer!reader after they haven’t seen each other in a while…

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris can't stand being away from singer!reader for an extended period of time

you step out of the car, the gentle hum of the engine fading into the quiet of the night.

the cool air nips at your skin as you pull your hood over your head, but it doesn't matter—you're finally back in LA. after weeks of traveling city to city, performing in packed venues, and living out of suitcases, all you can think about is chris.

you push open the front door of his big house quietly, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing in the stillness of the house. it's late, around midnight, so you assume his assistants along with nick and matt have gone to bed.

upstairs, the dim light from the wide hallway stretches ahead, leading you to where you know he’ll be.

when you reach chris' room, your heart pounding with anticipation in your chest, you push the door open, and there he is—sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head snapping up the moment you enter.

he doesn’t say a word at first, just stares at you like he’s trying to memorize every detail. his eyes burn with something primal, something that makes your breath hitch.

"i told you i’d come straight to you," you say, smiling softly.

before you can take another step, chris is on his feet, crossing the space between you in a heartbeat. his hands cup your face, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss so desperate, so consuming, it leaves you gasping. his body presses against yours, backing you against the door, his heat overwhelming, his scent intoxicating.

"chris," you manage to breathe, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking in a way that sends sparks of arousal shooting through your veins.

chris doesn’t let up, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that’s almost feral. he lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to his bed and laying you down with a gentleness that contrasts the intensity in his eyes.

"fuck," he mumbles against your smooth skin, his voice thick and raw as he climbs over you, his lips capturing yours again. "missed ya so much, ma, need ya bad," he mumbles thickly against your plush lips.

just moments later, chris has got you in a squished mating press, his nails digging into the undersides of your thighs as he pushes them further against your shoulders. he's moving at an erratic pace, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall with each rough thrust he gives you as you wail loudly.

"fuck i missed her," he grunts, looking down at his cock driving into your sweet warmth. "look at her, ma," he grips your chin, flitting your lidded eyes to look down at your pussy gleaming with your slick, "she missed me too, didn't she?"

you pant breathlessly, unable to focus on anything in your foggy mind except for the intensifying ecstasy that makes your thighs twitch in his grip. all you can do is nod, too fucked out to even form words through your whines.

chris pounds into you even faster, deeper, moving one of his hands to press down on the bulge appearing in and out of your stomach as he grunts, "just like that, yeah? so fuckin' tight, feels perfect."

"chris," you manage to moan out, barely coherent through your open mouth, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"c'mon, give it to me," he groans, beginning to rub tight, quick circles on your puffy clit, earning a sharp gasp from you as that familiar knot forms in your belly that you haven't felt in weeks. "wanna see ya fall apart f'me, baby, wanna see you cum on this dick."

with that, your body shakes, your spongy walls spasming around his cock along with a loud wail, your nails digging into his back. the jolts of pleasure leave you panting, whimpering as you open your eyes to blurry vision, taking in the sight of his face.

chris grunts deeply, a dark and dry chuckle leaving his lips as he watches your fucked out expression, "mhmmm, there it is, gooood girl," he growls, his own high catching up to him as he thrusts into you even harder.

thank you for reading! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses

@chrissturnsfav ™

#ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader prompt #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader #chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets x you

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sectumsempraaa · 4 months ago

Text

Our Missing Piece

Pairing: they’re all in love w/ you 🤭 x fem!reader

Word count: 1.3k

TW: none! Fluff galore!

Featuring: Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy

Summary: As Hogwarts’s newest student, you generally keep to yourself, staying out of the spotlight. That is until you beat the famous Harry Potter in a classroom duel and win the hearts of a bunch of down-bad Slytherins, who jump at the chance to take you under their wing.

Please don’t pick me, please don’t pick me.

Professor Snape’s looming eyes scale the shaking students in front of him, deciding who he’ll choose to go next in your Defense Against the Dark Arts mock-wand battles. McGonagall has already made her choice, sending the famous Harry Potter walking proudly to the center, taking a wide stance.

You’ve managed to stay relatively out of the way since starting at Hogwarts, about a month ago. Since you stepped foot off the train, you decided to dedicate yourself to your studies, giving in to your introverted tendencies.

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t long for friendship each time you spotted girls skipping in the hallway together, or when the Weasley crew bursts into laughter at lunch, or when you spot the Ravenclaws studying in the library.

Suddenly, your head of house’s voice penetrates the air, slicing through the anticipation like a swift dagger.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Snape announces, gesturing a finger to approach him.

Son of a bitch.

You look around, the color draining from your face as you observe every head turning to look at you. You make your way up to the raised platform, passed your professor, when an oddly gentle hand on your shoulder stops you short.

Snape kneels, lowering his voice to a mutter.

“Breathe. Forget his name. He is only a boy.”

You nod, swallowing your fear and taking your first steps toward Harry. You repeat the words in your head, closing your eyes momentarily and wiping the sweat from your palms.

He is only a boy.

“On your marks,” Professor Lupin instructs, the both of you lifting your wands to position. Harry nods to you in greeting, which you return with eyes like headlights. You try your best to ignore your racing pulse and quickened breath.

What the hell am I going to do?

A sly, boyish voice from the Slytherin crowd behind you catches your ear, a voice you can almost put a name to. The phrase ripples in your head, echoing until it becomes a solid thought.

“Careful of that one, Potter. She’s lethal.”

You grin to yourself, the remark helping to relax your shoulders and straighten your posture. And for the first time since arriving here, you feel a confidence that’s been waiting to unleash… you feel like a Slytherin.

She’s lethal.

In a split second, you choose a spell and devise the best handwork to perform it.

Yes, I bloody am.

Lupin conducts a countdown, and at the same time, you each send magic hurdling at each other. But you’re sharp, cunning, and quick. Maybe you’ve only been here a month, but you know enough to identify his weakness on the spot.

His softer, disarming expelliarmus meets your driving, aggressive bombarda, as a fantastic collision of colors explodes in the center of the platform. Students yell in reaction, stepping a few feet back.

The blast sends Harry straight down, rolling over a few times from the forceful impact. You had directed it specifically to hit at just the right moment, as not to cause injury.

After a second, you find yourself still on your feet, the smoke clearing slowly in the air. But the second your house spots Potter on the ground, a roar like hell erupts behind you. A small smile returns to your face, along with a glimmer in your gaze.

You bow, then stroll over to your opponent, respectfully offering to help him back on his feet. Your face contorts in confusion when he stands on his own, shaking you off.

“Good match, Potter! Nice to meet you.” You extend your hand, finding your soft, yet direct voice.

“Not shaking your hand if you belong to those filthy Slytherins,” he replies, a pang of hurt hitting your chest at the rejection. You’re lost on where you went wrong, all you did was follow instructions.

“She sure as hell does!”

Suddenly, a mass of rushed footsteps approaches you from behind, the boyish voices multiplying as they celebrate your victory.

“Told you to be careful, Potter.” Draco mocks, sending a wink his way. A boy you recognize as Mattheo speaks up next.

“The boy who lived- oh, sorry, I meant the boy who got leveled by a fourth year!” He snickers, taking a stance by your side. He looks to you, nudging your shoulder in encouragement with a gleam of pride in his eyes. His next words are just for you.

“Wicked job out there, darling.”

The closeness of his face to yours sends a shiver down your back, his charming smile luring you in. Harry interrupts, his tone annoyed.

“Run from this lot while you can, Y/N.”

“Paws off, Potter. This one’s ours.” Draco sneers, throwing an arm around you and pulling you close to his side. A blush develops on your face, remembering his sentiment from before your duel.

“That’s too bad, a smart girl like you wasting your time with a bunch of snakes.” He spits.

Theodore, the Italian transfer from Rome, pipes in with his two cents. He’s tall, and intimidating. His mere presence ushers other students out of the way.

“I’d tell you to eat shit, Harry, but you already did.” The diss earns an uproarious laugh from the group. Pansy stands behind you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” she says to Harry in her sing-song way. “Not every legend has a prophecy, mate.” She squeezes your arm, giggling to you and herself.

And to that, he storms away, his Gryffindor friends following after. You turn to the group, unable to produce words after their glowing display of support. They each take their turn giving you hugs and chanting your name, Pansy opting to play with your hair.

“I think you’re our missing piece.” Mattheo proclaims. “We sort of need someone who-”

“Can save our arses?” Theo finishes the thought. “She’s way bloody better at magic than we are.”

“I believe he’s referring to the several… ahem, situations, we get ourselves into… at times.” Draco says hesitantly, his gaze drinking in your every feature, admiring his newest recruit.

For the first time, you find yourself surrounded by people who like you. Who admire you, want you for themselves. They’re actually excited, thrilled even, to make you one of their own. You couldn’t have imagined it unfolding like this, but you’re damn glad it did.

“Should’ve known she was the one when Draco was nearly drooling over her in Potions class…” Pansy interjects. Draco’s face goes wildly pink, unable to hide his bashfulness behind his pale complexion.

“What else can you do, new girl?” Theo inquires, his demeanor mysterious and intriguing.

“In che senso?” You respond, using the very little Italian you picked up on your last summer trip. His face lights up, a wave of sheer attraction and awe written all over it.

He clasps your hand, holding it like a damn trophy. “I think I’ll marry you someday.” He confesses.

Mattheo pushes him away from you in order to regain your attention by offering to carry your books to the next class.

“Allow me, love.” Mattheo says as the boys continue to shove and trip over each other to engage with you.

You nod, shooting a puzzled look at Pansy while the boys gather your things and start to lead the group out. She pulls you aside, linking arms with you, the Slytherin champion.

“They’ve all been pining since they first laid eyes on you, you bloody bombshell.” She jokes, revealing the boy’s truth.

“But then you beat Potter, and well… that sealed the deal. I’ve never seen heart-eyes like that from any of them, let alone all of them.”

You catch Draco staring longingly at the two of you, quickly glancing elsewhere to play off his obvious infatuation with you. You smile and wave to him, biting your lip as he nods your way.

Pansy leaves you with one last thought before you all head to Potions, gesturing her head towards Draco.

“They’re all quite competitive. But that one… that one will end the world for you, Y/N.”

Lethal, you think to yourself.

Because he’s lethal, too.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Taglist: @viperify @chelawrites @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @redeemingvillains @clar2aa

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy #theodore nott #theo nott #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson #draco x reader #mattheo x reader #theo nott x reader #slytherin

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gghostwriter · 6 months ago

Text

If You Love Me Right

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Part 2 Summary: Emily asks an all important question regarding the next step of your relationship with Spencer Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k a/n: Back at it again with something Short n' Sweet. Unsure if this will be the last of this album inspired fics but so far the album is still on repeat. I think out of all the fluff I've written, this is the one where I could just feel how much of a green flag Spencer would be as a partner, if only he wasn't fictional. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

“Have you thought about it?” Emily asked, wine glass on hand as she slid into the seat next to you.

The sun was just starting to set, covering the lush backyard in multitude of pink & orange hues. It was a Sunday and Rossi had invited the team and their extended families for an early Italian dinner feast. When Spencer inquired about your availability, it warmed your heart to hear who you are to him.

“Are you sure you want me there, Spence?” your voice coming out soft and muffled as you burrowed yourself further into the warmth of his slender neck. His invitation was a big step in further solidifying the relationship and having been in questionable situation-ships, you had to be sure where you stood.

He pulled back, doe eyes inquisitively staring into yours. His gaze had this way of making you feel known and at home. It was as if his soul has recognized yours from eons ago and needed no further introduction.

“Of course,” his calloused fingers softly pushing stray locks behind your ears. “You’re my person now and it feels right to have you there with me.”

Emily cleared her throat binging you back to the present. “Well?”

“Thought about what?”

She nodded her head in Spencer’s direction. “Having genius babies with our boy genius?”

You softly smiled, watching your boyfriend of one year perform magic tricks for Henry and Michael. It wasn’t like it never crossed your mind. If you were being honest, by the sixth date and the first time he stayed over for the night, the idea of growing old and starting a family with Spencer by your side had started to solidify.

“Maybe,” you drawled out. A half truth that the seasoned profiler caught on right away.

“And has this—” she lifted her hands to form quotation marks in the air. “‘maybe’ been discussed with the potential baby daddy?”

You brought the wine glass up to your lips, the outer corner of your lips tugging upwards your face as you took a sip. Dating a man of Spencer’s caliber had given you the comfort and stability to discuss any little insecurity, adoration, and realization without the unease of thinking he’d judge you for it. Gone were those nights of second guessing and reading too much in between the lines and in its place were honest discussions between two consenting adults.

It was a real breath of fresh air.

“Do you think we should have a baby?” you casually asked, laying on his lap as he was propped up against the headboard with a book on hand. “I mean, not this second but—yeah, do you?”

There was a rustle of pages before a soft thud. “Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way but are you by any chance ovulating?”

“Uh—maybe?”

He smiled, looking down at your slowly reddening cheeks. I—uh, have actually been keeping track—” he bit his lip before rushing out to explain himself. “—not to use the information for nefarious reasons but my brain just started to notice the patterns and it feels like an invasion of your privacy and—are you angry?”

“Oh Spence, no. Not at all,” your hand twining with his to stop its nervous movements. “It might be weird but I know you meant well. Now, will you tell me some facts about why you thought I was ovulating?”

“Well, studies had shown that women feel more flirty, sociable, and more physically attractive right before and during ovulation. Some studies also support the idea of increased libido which makes sense since that is the peak window for propagation of the human species.”

You giggled, always welcoming his rambles even if it had to do with your own reproductive system. “Right, but you know what else got me thinking about it?”

A slight scrunch in between his eyebrows appeared as his mind no doubt rewound the day for any trigger. His eyes brightening when it clicked. “Was it the picture of me holding Henry and Michael?”

“Definitely,” you breathed out, starting to feel warm just thinking about how secure his hold was to the newborn babies and that smile on his face that reached his molten hazel eyes and radiated from his whole face.

He pressed feather-like kisses all over cheeks and forehead. “There’s actually also a study on why that affected you so much. It all comes down to women seeing their partners acting as providers—” he cut himself off to land a kiss on your lips. “—I’m not saying no—I’d actually really like that but maybe we can revisit the idea again in two weeks? I want to make sure this is something you really want and not something your biology has dictated on you.”

“Okay, that sounds fair. I love you, Spence.”

“I love you too.”

Spencer’s laughter floating through the air brought you out of your reverie. A slight shiver passed through you—either from the wind or the imagery of him carrying Michael and holding hands with Henry on the other as they slowly made their way back to their mother.

You turned to face Emily, no doubt that the blush on your cheeks giving you away. “Maybe.”

“Huh,” she tilted her head slightly to the left—a subtle tick you’ve grown to read into.

“What?”

Shaking her head, she leaned in to clink her glass with yours and a teasing smile forming on her face. “Nothing. Well—you’re welcome, by the way. And as a thank you, what do you think about naming the maybe baby after me?”

You laughed. The trio had taken full credit for bringing the couple together—something that they had always brought up like it was their greatest contribution to earth.

A layer of warmth was added to your shoulders and a faint scent of books and wood wafted to your nose. Tilting your head backwards, it was Spencer sans his black coat that was now adorning your body. His garment effectively marking you as an extension of him, as if the necklace around your neck with his initials 'SR' wasn't enough already. A priceless jewelry that had a partner with your own initials that found its home around his neck. “Hi love.”

“Hi sweetheart,” leaning down to give your lips a kiss. “You looked cold.”

You were both wrapped up in your own little bubble to notice Emily’s eyebrows arching towards her hairline. “It won’t be long now, I guess. So how many?”

“One would be cute—” your eyes never lingering on his face as if you were tracing the all his angles and memorizing all the stubbles that had started to grow on his jaw line.

Spencer without further explanation continued on. “—two would be better.”

“You know, you both have to stop finishing each other’s sentences, it’s getting creepy,” Emily quipped.

You both laughed, turning to face her, and although your gazes were no longer meeting, the gentle caress of his thumb on the back of your hand was enough to communicate everything and anything in between.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #Spotify

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isaadore · 22 days ago

Text

AS SURE AS THE SKY IS BLUE LUKE HUGHES

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing luke hughes x reader

SUMMARY luke has never been more certain about anything in his life. he wants to marry you, and he wants to do it now. never mind that he’s only 21 or that everyone around him keeps asking if he’s sure. he’s sure. he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. word count 0.8k

warnings fluff, mentions of marriage

note requested 🤍

LH43 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

LUKE HAD ALWAYS been impatient when it came to things he wanted. His NHL debut? He had been counting down the days since he was a kid. Living on his own? He was practically throwing his bags into his new apartment before his mom could make him a goodbye breakfast. But this was different. This wasn’t just something he wanted. It was something he knew.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he had said one night, voice muffled against your shoulder as he lay on top of you on the couch. It was the off-season, and he had spent nearly every day like this, clinging to you like you were his lifeline, soaking up every second before he had to go back to New Jersey.

You had laughed, fingers softly threading through his hair. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He lifted his head, resting his chin on your chest so he could look at you properly. His eyes were unwavering. “I’m serious.”

Your heart had stuttered at the way he said it. Not like a question, not like a possibility. He had said it like a fact.

“Luke,” you had started. He was 21, and you were barely older. People your age didn’t just get married.

He shut you up with a kiss. “I know what you’re gonna say,” he mumbled, lips brushing against yours. “And I don’t care. I love you. I want to marry you. Why should we wait?”

You hadn’t had an answer for that. You still didn’t.

The engagement wasn’t a huge, elaborate ordeal. No viral-worthy flash mobs or expensive candlelit dinners. Just the two of you, standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment, his hands slightly clammy as he pulled out a ring and said, “Marry me?” like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And because it was Luke, and because you loved him, and because why should we wait? you had said yes.

Which led to now. Sitting in a booth at a restaurant, a dinner meant to celebrate the engagement turned into an intervention.

“You’re sure about this?” Jack asked, arms crossed over his chest. It was the third time he had asked.

“Yes.” Luke shot him a glare before looking around the table. His parents, his brothers, his teammates. All of them were looking at him like he had just announced he was dropping hockey to become a circus performer.

“It’s just…” Quinn paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “You’re young, Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “So?”

“So most people don’t get married at 21,” Jack cut in, throwing his hands up.

“Well, I’m not most people,” Luke shot back.

Beside him, you squeezed his hand under the table. You had expected this. Luke had, too. His family was supportive, but they were also realists. And realists didn’t get engaged at 21.

Ellen sighed. “Sweetheart, we’re not saying you shouldn’t marry her.” She gave you a warm, reassuring smile before turning back to her son. “We just want to make sure you’re thinking this through.”

“I have thought this through,” Luke said, exasperated. “For months.”

“Months,” Jack repeated like it was a ridiculous amount of time.

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Guys. Look at me.” He gestured to himself. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

Jack opened his mouth. “Do not answer that,” Luke warned before he could say anything.

A chuckle passed around the table, but the concern was still there, lingering in the air.

“Luke,” Jim finally spoke, calm and measured, like he was trying to keep the peace. “Marriage isn’t something you rush into.”

Luke softened, taking a breath before responding. “I know that,” he said. “But I also know that I love her. And I don’t want to wait years just because people think that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

He turned to you then, eyes searching yours, needing you to back him up.

You squeezed his hand again and smiled. “I know it seems fast. But we love each other, and we’re happy. That’s what matters, right?”

Ellen exhaled, smiling softly. “It is what matters.”

Jack still looked skeptical, but he leaned back in his seat, conceding. “Alright. Fine. But if you ever need an out, just say the word.”

Luke rolled his eyes but grinned. “Not happening.”

And just like that, the tension eased. His parents let it go, Jack stopped grilling him, and the dinner turned into what it was supposed to be: a celebration.

Later, as you walked hand in hand toward the car, Luke tugged you closer. “You still sure about this?” he teased, bumping his nose against yours.

You grinned. “As sure as the sky is blue.”

Luke beamed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I can’t wait to marry you.”

Neither could you.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ LH43 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #nhl x reader #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagine #lule hughes fluff #luke hughes angst #nhl x you #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #✷ isaadore

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coldfanbou · 2 months ago

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Kinkcember Day 24: Nuru Massage

Eunbi booba make brain go brr. Now imagine her oiled up... brain go boom.

Length 1.6K

Eunbi X Mreader

You look at the sign hanging above you, “Nuru Massage.” You must have considered walking in here a hundred times, but each time, you decided against it. This time, though, you were going to go in. You wanted to see what it was all about, and after doing your research, you felt pretty confident it would be enjoyable, at the very least. “Welcome! How can I help you today?” You hear shouted at you from behind the counter the moment you walk in.

You look at the board behind the lady, noting times and prices available. “I’d like a massage, one of your hour sessions, please,” you say, pointing at the board.

“An hour session? Alright, just follow me, and we’ll get you started soon.” The woman behind the counter leads you down the hall to a room at the very end. “She’ll be here very soon. You just get ready; there’s a basket for you to put your clothes in.” The woman shuts the door; you spend a minute looking around the bare room before beginning to take off your clothes. Just as you finish putting the last piece of clothing in the basket, the door to your room opens. Taking a step inside is a young woman in a thin white bikini.

“Hello, my name is Eunbi. I’ll be performing this massage for you.” She says with a bow. You stare at her cleavage, her large, weighty breasts immediately getting your attention. “What is your name, sir?” She asks while preparing herself and the room a little more. Eunbi presses a button, and you watch as an air mat inflates in the room's corner. “What is your name?” Eunbi asks again. You respond this time just as the mat is finished inflating. “Please lay down on the mat. I’ll be right over.”

You walk over to the mat and lie down only a few inches off the floor. You stare at the beautiful woman’s backside as she finishes her preparations and walks over to you. “As you know, this is a Nuru massage; we have a special blend of oil we use here,” Eunbi informs you, raising a bottle. “This is what I’ll be using today. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll begin your massage,”

Eunbi lifted the bottle, drizzling the oil over her body. She rubbed the liquid into her skin as she continued to cover herself. The bikini top Eunbi wore became saturated with the oil and turned translucent. Her nipple was visible, but that didn’t bother the young woman; it was a part of the job. Eunbi kept her smile on you as she put the bottle down and spread the oil over the rest of her body. You kept your eyes on Eunbi’s body, watching as it glistened. You got hard immediately; it made Eunbi blush. She crawled onto the mat, her tits hanging over your cock. Eunbi cocks her head to the side, a playful smile on her face as she lowers herself and her breasts rub against your cock, coating it in the oil as she presses her breasts together. You groan, enjoying the feeling of Eunbi’s soft tits slipping around your cock.

Eunbi giggled but focused on her massage, moving over to your legs. She did the left first, pouring some oil along it before pressing her body against it and sliding up and down it. You could feel her breasts against your thigh as she moved along your body. Eunbi slowed down, moving onto your thigh and sitting on it. Eunbi softly moaned as she rode your thigh, her hips rocking back and forth. Listening to Eunbi’s moans made your cock throb; you desperately wanted to fuck her. The bikini she wore was utterly see-through now.

Eunbi seemed to notice, too. She looked down and untied her top, tossing it to the side; she followed suit with her panties. You gulped as you saw her bare body in all its glory. Sure, the bikini wasn’t hiding anything in the end, but the look now was awe-inspiring.

The young woman switched legs, coating the other in oil before riding it. You stare at Eunbi’s tits move as she rides your leg. “Is this to your liking, sir?”

“Yes, it feels nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Eunbi says as she comes to a stop, and moves upward, dragging her tits along your stomach before stopping at your chest. You’re eye to eye with Eunbi. She smiles at you. Eunbi moves to the side, placing your arm between her tits. When she’s near your shoulder, you can almost touch her slit, and Eunbi can feel your hand try to reach it. She always moves down your arm just before you can. At the very least, she compensated you by letting you grope her breasts when she was by your hand. You squeezed her weighty breasts; their softness was otherworldly. When you found her nipple, you rolled it between your fingers, making the young woman moan as she moved up and stretched it taut before finally letting go. The process repeats when Eunbi moves to your other arm. As you toy with each other, Eunbi slowly moves herself on top of you, her chest rubbing against yours.

She leans down and kisses you, “I think I love you.” She says it suddenly, but it’s a rehearsed line. Of course, sex wouldn’t be allowed in a place like this, but if the masseuse and customer happened to fall in love, then it would be fine. It was a little loophole to skirt the law. You follow along, telling Eunbi you love her too as you place your hands at her waist. The young woman giggles, placing her hands on your chest before sitting up and straddling you. She takes your hands, putting them on the tits she knew you couldn’t get enough of.

You were more than happy to have your hands on them again, immediately squeezing the soft mounds and making her coo. “Such a naughty boy,” Eunbi moaned. The young masseuse lifted herself, grabbing your cock and placing it between your bodies, grinding against it while you played with her tits. You pushed them together, lifted them, and watched them bounce as you dropped them. The look on your face entertained Eunbi and let you continue before eventually wanting to move on. She rose slowly and placed you against her cunt, lowering herself onto your cunt. She groaned as she felt your cock fill her pussy.

As she lowered herself, you unconsciously squeezed her tits roughly, making her moan as she took the entire thing inside her. Eunbi places her hands on your chest, leaning over you as she catches her breath. You let go of her breasts and watch them hang inches from your face. The temptation is too great, and you lean in and take one into your mouth. Eunbi shivers as you begin to swirl your tongue around her nipple. The pleasure only becomes greater as you grab her waist and begin to thrust. “W-wait,” Eunbi moans, the influx of pleasure making her weak. It was hard to hold onto Eunbi; her slick body made your hands move up anytime she bounced on your cock. It also made it hard to stay connected to her breasts. You eventually gave up on that effort and just enjoyed the feeling of your cock in her snug cunt, watching as Eunbi’s tits bounced in front of you.

Eunbi shut her eyes and moaned, enjoying as your cock wet deep into her cunt. Soon, you get into a rhythm, moving your hands along Eunbi’s body as you thrust, squeezing her soft flesh and making her moan. She cranes her neck as she bounces on your cock; seeing her so vulnerable fueled your desire for the young woman. You sat up and ran a hand down Eunbi’s back as you kissed her neck. “Ah, I’m going to cum,” Eunbi whined, her walls tightening around your cock. “You c-can’t cum inside,” Eunbi continued.

You felt disappointed that she didn’t want you to cum inside her, but something told you could get something better if you followed along. You push Eunbi onto her back and continue your thrusting. You lean over and kiss her, holding onto one of her tits as you slide your cock in and out of her tight cunt. Eunbi’s whines continue to grow louder until she finally cums, her cunt clamping down on your cock, nearly making you cum.

You manage to pull out at the last second and paint Eunbi’s stomach with your semen—the young woman softly moans as she feels her stomach have cum splattered on it. She breathes heavily, a small smirk on her face as she scoops some of your cum and eats it. “Did you enjoy your massage?” Eunbi asks, out of breath. You nod, feeling very relaxed. “Thank you for not cumming inside. If you ever come back, I’d be more than happy to treat you to a different massage, something much tighter. Your cock begins to twitch at the idea she’s presenting. Eunbi notices your cock twitching, “I guess you understand.”

Eunbi grabs your hand, leading you to the room’s shower, where she washes the oil off you, using her body on you one last time before your visit ends. You pay the woman at the front and leave the massage place, feeling happy that you went in and excited at the chance to have more fun with Eunbi. You imagine what the next experience will be like with Eunbi face down and her ass raised in the air.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #eunbi smut #izone smut

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enhard · 8 months ago

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park sunghoon — “code red”

let it fall, call it code red

: you send your boyfriend some risky photos, knowing he’s about to perform in front of thousands. the punishment you’ll get is well deserved.

pairing: bf!p.sh x fem!reader

cw: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions about multiple rounds, sunghoon using your body for his own pleasure, he ties up your hands, degrading kink, hair pulling, slight masturbating, sending explicit photos and texts, lots of teasing.

not proofread, enjoy! (MDNI)

it’s been an hour ever since you kissed your boyfriend goodbye, wishing him luck at his upcoming concert. an hour ever since you couldn’t stop thinking about him, closing your eyes just to imagine him being right there between your legs.

you’re laying down on your bed, the need to touch him sinking you in the mattress. you sit up to look into the mirror that’s by the bed, deciding to tease him a bit.

you know that he’s with his members right now, having to perform any second.

you keep looking at your body in the mirror, lifting your undershirt just enough to show your abdomen. you take off your shorts, leaving yourself in your panties.

biting your lip, you open your camera app. you lay back down in your bed to take a few pics from the neck down. your boobs sit so nicely for the picture, almost like knowing you’re taking them for your love.

after you take some pics, even a short video for you holding your phone up with your right hand while running your left hand all over your body. you slightly smile and the camera picks it up perfectly for him.

you squeeze your thighs together, starting to grind on your own panties while thinking about him again.

you quickly open up the texting app, seeing that he was active 2 minutes ago. “perfect” you mumble to yourself, letting out small sounds as you’re squeezing your thighs tighter.

you send him a little text first, to see if he’d reply in the first place.

hey baby are you still backstage?

heyy my love yeah im still here, they’re delaying the concert a few minutes lol. what’s up?

oh if he knew right there.

mm i’m glad then, i miss you alreadyyy 😓

🫣 what do you mean by that darling?

and then you just go for it. you smile as you send him one photo of the ones you took, along with that short video. the blinding red led light hovering over your skin.

as soon as he sees the photos, he covers his phone screen to not leak it to anybody by accident.

he gulps, examining every part of your body visible. oh how he wishes he could throw kisses all over your pretty body. he hates what you’re doing to him but oh how much he loves how hot you look for him.

he can feel his bulge getting harder with each passing second staring at the material you sent him, looking down and cursing under his breath.

he immediately texts you back, struggling already.

you fucking slut, you got me hard already how am i supposed to perform now?

you smile even harder at his text, travelling your hand down to your panties just to rub yourself. you want him inside you badly, but teasing him is equally as fun.

letm help u get rid of it go smwhere whereno one can see u ;)

i don’t have time, if i get caught you’re so dead whore. i’m coming home right after this but why are you typing so weird all of a sudden?

ifs hard typingwuth one hand love 😜

oh you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now. when did i let you touch yourself? you’ll see what will happen when i get home. you better be all ready cause you’re not going down easy.

you don’t get to even text back, cause you get another few ones from him.

fuck i need to perform now

you’re getting punished when i get home

ill fuck you so good you’ll need me all the time from now on

you better not cum until i get home

you close your eyes, replaying his texts in your mind on repeat as you rub your panties faster. you keep his promise on not cumming, figuring you already pissed him off enough already.

your nipples get hard from the cold air coming from the open window. you get such heat in your stomach you can’t tame, only way you can tame it now is by letting sunghoon do whatever he wants to you.

you wonder the whole time how he performed with a boner but he did quite well, hiding it as well as he could. of course all he could think about was you.. those photos you sent floating in his mind on loop.

he forgot a few lyrics here and there being too preoccupied remembering the curves on your body he loved so much. how he was going to trace his fingers over every bump and curve on it.

feels like hours passed since his concert started, but the concert’s duration was only an hour, way shorter than the usual concerts he holds.

when they were done performing, backstage he quickly changed his clothes and took his things to run home. he didn’t even care enough to greet his members, all he wanted was you.

when you hear the front door open, you almost squeal out of excitement. you fix up your hair a bit, covering yourself with the blanket on your bed.

he drops all his things just to burst through the bedroom.

he eyes you up and down, his gaze changing suddenly when he sees you.

he walks over to you, already talking his jacket off.

“let me give you what you want love, you deserve it.” he growls, dragging you out of bed. your body gets exposed to him like this, and he can’t help but run his hands all over you. he picks you up just to squeeze you between him and the wall. you feel his hard cock against your panties as he’s smirking.

you grab onto the collar of his shirt, whining at him. “pleaseee fuck me already. i was a good girl, i didn’t cum yet.” you feel proud of yourself, and he gives you a kiss for that.

“you are a good girl, but not good enough for me not to punish you. know that right?” you nod. but you don’t mind. you wrap your arms around his neck, hoping for the best.

he throws you back onto the bed, getting on top of you. he doesn’t hesitate taking off his shirt while smiling at you. he leans in for another kiss before running his hands up your undershirt to cup your breasts. he plays with them, tugging on your nipples and pinching your skin. you know how much he loves them, and you love when he plays with them. then he just takes off your undershirt, wanting to see them in their glory.

you try reaching to touch his abs, but he quickly takes off his belt to tie your hands above your head with it. you look at him while pouting but he doesn’t buy any of it.

“no pouting and no touching slut, this is what you get. next time watch what you do.” you nod, looking down.

as he’s about to take your panties off, he notices how wet you are, scoffing.

“talk about me being hard, look at you slut. you’re so wet just for me.. that’s how i love it.” he chuckles, sliding them off you too easily.

he parts your legs, rubbing your pussy a bit before inserting his fingers inside you.

you instantly moan, bouncing up and down trying to move around on his fingers.

he slaps your pussy, making you stop. “did i tell you to do that? oh you’re getting on my nerves whore. sit still before i have to tie you up whole.”

you gulp, apologising in a sweet voice. “im sorry.. daddy.” he clicks his tongue. “that’s better. keep your legs open for me.” he takes his fingers out of you, leaving such emptiness within you.

he takes off his pants and boxers in one move.

he’s way too needy to waste time right now, but he’s down to teasing you any time.

he starts fisting his cock, right with you watching with your legs open. he gives himself deep strokes, groaning a bit with each one. you’re sitting there craving his cock too bad to be cutting with this right now. you start doing what you’re best at, whining.

“what are you doing… please fuck me alreadyyyy i feel way better than your hand pleaseee..” you’re pathetic whining and begging like that, but it does the job in convincing him.

without saying a word, he shoves it all inside you. he doesn’t give you any time to adjust, making you scream out of frustration.

“you stretched yourself enough with your fingers thinking about me, be quiet before i make you keep your mouth closed.”

you try keeping quiet as he’s thrusting into you at whatever pace he wants, moaning every few thrusts. the heat in your stomach gets more and more unbearable, you let out small noises and he’s fine with that.

“you’re such.. a slut..begging me.. to fuck you.. you’re all mine.” you nod frantically.

“..i’m all yours… only yours.. fuck daddy pleaseee..”

he picks his pace up upon hearing the new nickname you chose again, pulling at your hair little by little.

you clench around him as you’re about to cum and he keeps your legs wide open, grabbing them harder. “let me.. make you cum pretty girl..”

and you do just that, you furrow your eyebrows as you cum all over him. all over his abs and the covers.

he hisses as you’re cumming, enjoying your quiet moans.

he leans in to rest his head in the crook of your neck, fucking into you even faster than before.

you wrap your legs around him, expecting for him to cum soon.

you’re right, and without saying a word he’s convinced you’re letting him cum inside you.

he thrusts into you a few more times before letting out a moan as he’s cumming in you filling you up.

you roll your eyes back, enjoying the feeling too badly.

after a bit he sits up, making you sit on his lap. your arms still tied, you give him a kiss.

“i’ll use you the whole night you whore, you’ll regret sending those pictures.” he says in a low voice.

you’re willing to let him use you, this was your reasoning on why those photos exist. you want him to use you, knowing that you give him more pleasure than anyone could.

you just smile, knowing your plan worked.

“use me up, cum inside me just how you love it. until you stop seeing red.”

#enhypen #kpop #kpop bg #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen sunghoon

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