#and hes so proud of how it looks. smug bastard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tangerineastronaut · 7 days ago

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can you do a yunho reader thigh riding where shes his gf

Missed You | j.yunho

Pairing: Idol!Yunho x Nonceleb!Reader Genre: Smut/Fluff (MDNI) - mostly smut, very little fluff but still a main theme. Requested: Yes w.c. 3.5k Warnings: Thigh riding, established relationship, praise, slight degradation (nothing in a hateful way), size kink if you squint, namecalling, pet names, humping, I think that's it? If you notice any potentially triggering content not listed here please let me know. A/N: Hello lovelies ~ it feels so good to be back. I haven't written in a while but after browsing some of the amazing fanfic writers here it really made me miss it. Thank you to anon for my very first request! Also, this is poorly edited so please don't mind any errors. I will likely edit it in the future if I find any. Please excuse my rusty skills as well, I promise I'll get better! Requests: Open ~ please see the guidelines for requesting here.

5 months.

For 5 months, your gorgeous golden retriever boyfriend had been gone on tour, and you were expected to endure a meal with him and the members. They’d landed just hours ago and were no doubt exhausted, but Yunho looked as unfairly beautiful as ever. There were shadows under his eyes and he definitely seemed to be craving home, but the moment he’d spotted you when you walked into the restaurant…god. His tongue had slid over his lower lip, likely thinking about the way you taste, long fingers raking down his pants as if to stop the tingling spreading through him. He was wearing casual clothes, just a hoodie and a pair of jeans, but nothing could hide the art of his figure. Tall and lean, toned where it counts. His broad shoulders, his chest and stomach that you loved peppering with kisses. And those thighs.

You’d never really considered how sexy a man’s thighs were until you’d met Jeong Yunho. Muscular and thick, perfect for sitting on when he was in the mood to game for hours. Fine with you—was there anything more fun than teasing your lanky gamer boyfriend in the middle of a match? Squirming in his lap, making him fumble the controller and lose until you were bent in half, said boyfriend sinking into you?

Dinner.

Dinner dinner dinner.

You were proud of the boys and knew this was important, so despite wanting to jump his bones, you kept yourself in check and listened to the bickering between Woo and Jongho, beginning to wonder if Seonghwa had opted to dye his hair white to hide the grey caused by his children.

You were about to scold them yourself to give the poor Captain and His Wife™ a break, but a warm hand sliding up your thigh made the words die in your throat in an embarrassingly high pitched sound. You coughed to cover it up—thank god for Woo as no one was paying attention to you—and glanced up at Yunho.

“I missed you baby,” he hummed, low enough that only you could hear. His pretty lips formed a smirk that wasn’t as sweet as his words. You smiled up at him, placing your smaller hand on top of his and squeezing, silently begging him to leave you the fuck alone before you drag him to the bathroom.

“Missed you too,” you reply, making a visible effort to turn back to the conversation you weren’t part of.

You’d hoped he was just being coy, teasing you a bit, but he apparently wasn’t satisfied with your reaction as his hand slipped inward. He wasn’t far above your knee, but it didn’t matter, making you clamp your legs together and grip his wrist beneath the table. The smug bastard smiled, hiding it in his glass as he took a sip of water.

It was irritating, the mere fact that his large hand spanned much of your upper leg making you squirm. It was far too easy for him to rile you up, while he managed to maintain composure most of the time. You bit the inside of your cheek and released his wrist, your own hand moving to his lap. Yunho stiffened a bit, but that was it. You spread your fingers over his thigh, squeezing once before gently moving your hand side to side.

When he turned to San and casually asked about next week’s practice schedule, it felt like a slap to the face.

You’ve been dating for 3 years. You’ve fucked countless times on many, many surfaces. But when your fingers slid toward his crotch and found his cock already fully erect, you tore your hand away as though it had burned you. The bickering had died down, so to hide the flush on your face you took a sip of water. Yunho hadn’t even flinched, still conversing, unbothered, and wearing that cocky little grin.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You almost felt guilty about the buzz you felt as everyone began to say goodbye, promising to rest before work started up again next week. You could’ve sworn Yunho was purposefully talkative tonight, as you knew damn well he didn’t care whether or not Yeosang’s apartment had more than one elevator. By the time he was willing to humor you, you were all but vibrating next to the company’s black SUV, the driver waiting much more patiently than you.

Yunho had the audacity to ask if you were ready to go, his warm hand sliding over the small of your back. You nodded so quickly you were almost dizzy.

The SUV was quite tall, and you were…quite not. So when he opened the door for you, you prepared to climb inside ungracefully, but your boyfriend placed both hands on your hips and lifted you into the vehicle. You had no time to react, as he was climbing in after you. You prepared to shuffle across the seat to give him space, but he easily caught your wrist and yanked you across his lap. One hand gathered both of your wrists, the other resting calmly over your ass. You both glanced over at the same time to make sure the divider was closed.

“Someone’s horny,” he chuckled warmly, the hand on your ass moving in a slow circle. You frowned, tugging your wrists out of his grasp so you could sit up. Your hands found his shoulders and you swung a leg over his waist, straddling him but not letting your full weight rest against his cock just yet.

“Jeong fucking Yunho—I have been waiting 5 months for you and not just so you can grope me in a restaurant,” you grumble, fisting his hoodie.

“Technically speaking, all I did was touch your thigh. You, however, grabbed my—”

You shut him up with a kiss, mushing your mouth against his so hard you could feel your teeth pressing the inside of your lips. Yunho’s large hands found your waist, squeezing, trying to pull you down against his aching groin. You resist by using your knees, the grunt of irritation escaping him making you laugh.

“What’s funny?” Yunho asked, sucking your lower lip between his teeth. The shock made you gasp, and he used the opportunity to buck off of the seat of the car, hips meeting the plush underside of your ass.

Unwilling to let him win whatever the hell this was, you moved a knee between you, coming dangerously close to his clothed cock.

“Nothing, just my desperate boy acting like a dog,” you hum breathlessly. “All worked up, trying to call me out as the slut here.”

“You fucking—” Yunho grumbled. He wrapped both arms around you, crushing you against his chest and leaving you no choice but to straddle him again. This time, he hugged you tight; you could hardly breathe as he rutted against you so hard that it made you squeak.

You wanted to do more than pitifully submit, but you thanked the gods you’d decided to wear a dress, as each dry thrust pushed his cock right against your clothed clit. It was shameful how needy you felt, already able to feel a second heartbeat between your legs, the familiar ache as your cunt woke up from its 5 month hibernation.

“Thought about you every night,” Yunho groaned, his breath coming out in pants as he did all he could to create friction between your bodies. “You have no idea, baby. ‘m gonna fuck you until we pass out.”

“Yeah?” you manage to weakly spit out, your fingers curling into the material of his hoodie. You knew you should do more, give more, but your head was spinning, mouth dry from moments of contact after so long.

“Yeah. You’re gonna make those sounds for me, just like you did over the phone. Want you to say my name,” he says, his head falling back against the seat. “Fucking pillows…nothing looks as pretty as you.”

“P-Pillows?” you mumble, pulling back enough to look at him, his hips still working against your body. He licks his lips, eyes squinted as he looks over your face, nodding.

“Mm.”

“You…you fucked a pillow?”

“Mhm. ‘s soft and I can hold it down just like you, pretend it’s my girl taking me so good,” he rambles, not an ounce of shame in his tone.

Fuck.

You’d used fingers and toys, nothing doing what he could do for you. You assumed he used his hand—knew it, actually, based on the sparse dirty phone calls you’d managed to have. But the idea of Yunho, your gigantic boyfriend, desperately fucking against a pillow because it reminds him of you…it did something to you, woke something up that you were not proud of. You wanted to see it.

“Gonna hurt you…”

“H-huh?” you stammer, your cheeks flushing red despite your current state as you were caught daydreaming about Yunho and the poor pillow.

“It’s gonna hurt, baby. Need you wet,” he breathes. He reaches his hand between you, catching you off guard as he swipes beneath your panties, rubbing the sticky wetness of your cunt. You let out a broken moan, your hole clenching around nothing like muscle memory as you think of those long fingers pumping into you.

“I’m wet Yuyu,” you say, silently praying he gives you something, even just a finger to the first knuckle. But Yunho shakes his head, hands settled on your hips.

“Not enough…I’m telling you it’s going to hurt. Need you to cum first.”

“When we get home—”

“Now, y/n,” he says. His voice isn’t mean, not even commanding like it can be, but it still sends a shiver down your spine.

“O-Okay,” you mumble shyly, glancing back as if the driver might decide to open the divider. He didn’t, probably knowing better. “Use your fingers.”

“No,” Yunho mumbles. He easily manipulates your body until you’re perched atop one thigh. “Like this. Love it when you ride me.”

You exhale, situating yourself until your cunt is pressed against his jeans. Your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, and you meet his eyes as you begin to move, grinding against his leg. Yunho’s mouth opens, a gasped curse leaving his mouth as you lick your lips.

“Faster baby,” he murmurs, eyes trailing over you as you rut against him, “want you desperate. Want you to whine.”

“Fuck,” you say to no one, rolling your hips forward. Yunho grips the seat on either side of you both, fingers twitching like he wants to grab you and move you himself. But he just watches, licking his lips and nodding as you drive yourself to the edge on his thigh.

You feel him flex, the hardened muscle beneath you offering a firmness that makes you shudder. There’s a hotness between your legs as your juices coat his thigh, creating a wet patch on his jeans. After so many months, you’re sensitive, but unfamiliar with the movement as you struggle to hit the mark.

You falter, pausing to catch your breath.

“Don’t stop, baby,” Yunho says, his voice almost a whine. Your head falls forward on his shoulder, shame making your face warm.

“It’s been a while,” you mumble. “Sorry, yu.”

“Want me to help? Hm? Need me to make you feel good?” he whispers, lips catching your cheek. You nod weakly, fisting his hoodie again as his warm hands move to your waist, squeezing once before he begins to move you. Your body is like putty to him, and he grinds you down against his thigh like a doll.

“How’s that feel?” he asks, burying his face against your hair. You nod, unable to say much. He does it just right, somehow knowing your body better than you do.

Yunho reaches between you, hooking his thumb into the front of your panties and tugging them to the side. You gasp as your bare clit makes contact with his jeans, able to feel just how much you’d soaked through them. The thought makes you buck against him, catching the friction yourself with a choked gasp.

“That’s it, baby,” Yunho says, one hand going back to the seat while the other keeps your panties pulled to the side. “Like that. Let me see you use me to make that pretty cunt wet.”

“Fuck, Yunho,” you whimper, your hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm. He hums in approval, biting his lower lip hard as he watches you carefully. You groan and wrap both arms around his shoulders, squeezing your eyes closed as you grind hard against his thigh. The scent of his cologne is stronger now that he’s sweating, the smell making you dizzy and needy. You lower your head to his throat and kiss him there, tasting the saltiness of his skin while your tongue leaves a wet trail.

“There she is,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. You whimper and mouth at his skin, nipping and sucking as you work yourself to destruction on him. He groans as you latch onto his pulse point, using his free hand to grip your hair and pull you off of him.

“Be good,” he chuckles softly. You bite your lower lip, eyes wide and brows tight, hands moving up to scratch gently at the nape of his neck.

All it takes is a few seconds of you staring at him like that, still rutting helplessly against his thigh, needing to mark him up. Yunho sighs and leans back to get his hands between you, grabbing both his hoodie and shirt and tugging them over his head. His chest and stomach are revealed, your hands immediately palming at his skin. He nods and runs his thumb over your lower lip.

“Go ahead baby,” he hums. “Nothing above my collar bones, yeah?”

You nod obediently and kiss him softly, his lips plush and warm as always. You want to cry at the sensation of coming home, despite the fact that you were currently humping your hot boyfriend’s thigh during the longest car ride to your apartment ever.

You go for his shoulders first, you bite down and get your hips back into rhythm, relishing in his hiss of pain. Your teeth leave marks as you let go, breath hot against his skin.

Your nails leave half moon crescents as they work with your teeth, leaving a trail of love bites over the expanse of his chest. You’ve momentarily forgotten the goal here, though Yunho has no trouble reminding you. When you go in to kiss him again, he catches a fistful of your hair once more.

“You don’t want my cock going in like this,” he murmurs, free hand gently smacking your thigh. “Running out of time, babygirl.”

“I’m wet, Yunho,” you whine, bouncing in irritation. “Jus’ wanna kiss you. I can take it.”

Yunho stares at you for a few seconds, eyes trailing over your form where you’ve paused your movement.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Since when can you not take his cock? He was huge, sure, but it’s not like you’ll break.

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much?” he repeats, his hand slipping between you again. You try not to react as his thumb goes beneath your sticky panties, easily sliding over your swollen clit.

“All of it,” you scoff, unsure of what he was saying. Yunho smiles.

“No, I mean how much? How long can you take it? I’m not gonna stop, baby,” he says roughly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Gonna fuck you until you can’t move…still gonna fuck you until you ask me to stop.”

You pause at this, licking your lips and jolting at the heat sprouting from between your thighs.

“I-I can take it still,” you mumble, grinding down against his hand. He moves it, tugging your panties again, the cooled wetness of his jeans making you shiver.

“I’m gonna take my fill, baby,” he says, watching you move against his thigh. “Been practicing. Edging myself for months. Gotta make sure I use that pretty pussy until it’s wrecked and full of my cum.”

You squeak, your brain trying to think of a good response to that. Yunho chuckles and lifts his knee, making you involuntarily buck against him.

“You gonna shut up now and make sure you can do that for me? Get that little cunt wet enough so I can use it as much as I need to?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer. His dark eyes drop to see the result of your grinding, the wetness beneath you.

“Good girl,” Yunho nods. “Come on. Harder baby, need you to make a mess on my jeans.”

You do as he asks, grinding hard against his thigh, biting your lower lip as he alternates, flexing and relaxing the muscle beneath you. You move your hand to his and push it away, tugging your panties aside in one hand and gripping his shoulder with the other, looking down with parted lips because holy shit—you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet.

He feels so fucking good, there’s so much more you need from him, want to do for him, but you promised you’d cum. So you rub and grind and clench your teeth until you’re mumbling incoherently, much to his delight.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So fucking pretty and stupid when she gets desperate, can’t understand a word you’re saying,” he says, hands finding your waist. You sob and begin clumsily rutting against him, no rhythm whatsoever, just desperation and chasing physical sensations. Yunho loves to see it, coaxing you over the edge the closer you get.

“That all you’ve been thinking about, baby? All your holes getting stuffed? Bet you miss waking me up with my cock in your throat.”

You whimper and nod, eyes shut tight as your orgasm remains just out of reach. You need him to do it, to finish you off, you’re not sure what that would be, just that you want him to help.

“M-More yu, gimme more,” you whine softly, mouth open like a dog as you pant.

“More? More what? I haven’t given you anything, babygirl,” he chuckles. You’re not in the mood to play with words, but Yunho suddenly grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. You feel the burn of tears as you squirm and rut, his eyes full of satisfaction.

“You still gonna ask for more when I’m stuffed inside you?” he asks roughly. You nod eagerly, but Yunho only smirks.

“Knew you would, baby. Such a fucking slut for me. I tell you to ride me and here you are, too needy to realize we would’ve been home half an hour ago.”

“H-Huh?” you mumble out, that knot in your stomach untwisting. “F-Fuck, ‘m… g-gonna—”

“Gonna what? Ruin my jeans with your pretty pussy? All so I can get my cock inside as soon as I get you home?”

“Yunho,” you sob, a gasp on your lips as you begin to cum, eyes squeezing shut.

You ride out one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, mouth open, nothing coming out but pitiful squeaks and choked sobs. Yunho watches, lip caught between his teeth, holding you tight as you briefly leave this plane of existence in his arms.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes when you finally open your eyes, releasing a mixture between a cry and a sigh. “My good girl. I’m the luckiest man on this planet, baby.”

You choose to breathe rather than respond, but he’s fine with that, hugging you to his bare chest and cupping the back of your head.

“I love you so much, you know that?” he says, words muffled as he speaks against your hair. “Can’t wait to get you home. Gonna show you how much I missed you.”

He runs his fingers through your damp hair. You know you look wrecked already, and you’ll be shocked if you last more than one round tonight. But you’ll try for him.

“M-Missed you too, yuyu,” you weakly reply. “Why…why aren’t we home?”

Yunho laughs, brushing your hair back to kiss your temple.

“Arranged for us to ride around for a bit beforehand. Figured one of us would cave at the restaurant,” he admits. You look up at him, the stupid boyish grin on his face making you smile.

“I love you,” you huff. He leans down, lips soft and unhurried against yours for what feels like the first time that night. He tastes no different, feels no different than he did 5 months ago, and it livens you up a bit, much to his amusement.

“I love you too, pretty.”

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4unnyr0se · 8 months ago

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❥ kuroo as your boss

warnings: post-timeskip! kuroo, fem! reader, office sex, blatent favoritism, kuroo coddles reader, cunnilingus, blowjob, desk sex, unprotected sex, not proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 694

Tetsuro Kuroo, the best damn boss anyone could ask for. Gave anyone the day off when needed, even if they were out of paid sick days. His office morale was the highest ever recorded in the Sports Promotions division, and he was damn proud of it.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who originally hired you because you looked really good in a pencil skirt. And because he needed a female employee for diversity’s sake. Either way, he had no idea of your skills or how you would manage in a sports office setting.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was shocked to hear that you actually went to Nekoma and were in the same class as Kenma. Who called himself stupid for not recognizing a pretty girl when he was in high school, who called Kenma after he was done for the day to scream at him for not introducing him to such a fine piece of ass.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who had you do the work you wanted to do and never gave you assignments or paperwork you didn’t feel like you could handle. Was he coddling you? Sort of, but how could he not? You were just too pretty to be stressed. As long as you were his employee, you wouldn’t experience work-related stress. Not under his watch.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who always bought you lunch from wherever you wanted. You wanted sushi? Premium salmon rolls got delivered in 30 minutes. Wagyu? Consider it done. Convenience store ramen? He bought 10 cases for you to take home and eat at your leisure.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who confirmed the rumors that you were his favorite employee. What were they gonna do about it, hm? He wasn’t disenfranchising them by spoiling you; being jealous isn’t a cause to get you fired. He was a smug bastard and gave no shits.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was eating lunch with you in his office one day. Who observed how your tiny pencil skirt rode up your thighs perfectly, how your stockings made you look so fucking sexy. He observed how you blushed when he looked at you, the cutest giggle leaving your lips.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who thanked the universe that his office had two-way blackout curtains and soundproofing. He would bend you over the desk and rip a hole in your stockings, purring at the sight of your soaked lace panties. Did you wear those just for him? Adorable.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who made you sit in his office chair as he ate your pussy like he was on death row. Who relished in your desperate and wanton cries of ecstasy, another orgasm rippling through you. Who demanded you finish on his tongue over and over again, that was all he wanted to eat.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who sighed as he got under-the-desk support while on a phone call with a very important sports vendor. He would grip the mahogany of his desk as he felt your tongue trace on his cock’s throbbing vein, prematurely cumming all over his face. Who, when asked what was wrong, said he just stubbed his toe.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who fucked you like a machine each afternoon. Who gripped onto your hips with such strength that it left imprints on your hips as he fucked you harder and harder. Who demanded you scream as much as you needed, no one would hear. And even if they did hear, no one would stop him. He was their fucking boss.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who never used a condom because you’re on the pill. Who moaned at the sight of his seed leaking out of your weeping core as you struggled to fix your now wrinkled pencil skirt, shooting him a dirty look the entire time. Who promised he would go easier on you tomorrow, but he never did.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was actually kind of glad that he met you when you were both adults. If he had met you in high school, he never would have fucking graduated or kept Nekoma a powerhouse school. He would have been too distracted flirting with you the entire time.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who went to bed every night satisfied with his decision to hire someone as gorgeous as you.

#haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou #tetsuro kuroo #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #timeskip kuroo

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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

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What would yandere mafia do if he seen yn with another guy?

Yandere Gangster - Jealousy

He's your driver for the day and his eyes keep slipping to the rear view mirror to watch you.

You've got your arms stretched out along the backrest, a slim cigar drooping from your fingers and your head tilted back. Everything about you exudes a quiet, deadly confidence that still frightens him, even after all this time.

"Take the I76 and turn off at the airport."

"Yes ma'am."

He expects to maybe exchange some cargo or hand something off to a mule. He doesn't expect you to be picking up a man.

And he sure as hell doesn't expect you to hug the guy.

You - the cold hearted, merciless mafia boss - have your arms draped around a man's neck. And worse even than that, you give him a kiss on the cheek.

He's too shocked to move and when you tell him to grab the man's luggage, he takes a second before he manages to follow you.

In the car, you offer the man a pull of your cigar. He can see the slight stain of your lipstick on the filter before the man leans forward and covers it with his own lips.

It feels as intimate as a kiss.

And it makes him want to bite the man's face off and tear his throat to ribbons with his teeth and feel blood run like water down his throat. Instead, he just clutches at the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and numb.

No matter how much he hates seeing you with anyone else, you're still his boss.

Whoever this man is, you wouldn't take kindly to him being hurt without your explicit orders. Because the one thing he hates more than this smug bastard is the thought of you being angry with him.

And so he drives you back home and has to hang onto the door like a lifeline when the man rests his hand on your waist.

You tell him to come back tomorrow morning and he spends the rest of the afternoon drinking, trying not to think about you and the stranger all alone together.

He gets into a bar fight and it's almost a relief to be throwing punches. When he washes the blood off his knuckles, he pictures the stranger's face breaking under his fists.

In the morning, you see the bruises on his face and suck your teeth in annoyance.

"Why'd you let them ruin your pretty face?"

"It was a lucky shot ma'am."

You push the hair out his eyes for a better look and shake your head.

"Be more careful next time."

His throat goes dry at your touch.

"Yes ma'am."

Your hand slips from his head down to the nape of his neck. Your hands are so warm, so soft, that he almost melts. And the way you hold him is borderline possessive, the way a dog holds a puppy by the scruff of its neck.

"I'm proud of you. You behaved very well around my brother yesterday."

"Your brother?"

He feels a rush of relief and under it, a slight sense of trepidation. Were you baiting him? You didn't mention anything about the stranger being your brother.

You smile that cold, calculating smile of yours.

"You didn't think he was my husband, did you?"

He feels blood rush to his face.

"N-no ma'am."

"Good." You squeeze his neck a little before pulling away.

"I'd hate for you to think I had a lover."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #reader insert #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #x reader #yandere oc #Soft yandere #Needy yandere #Yandere gangster #Yandere mafia

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drowning-in-paragraphs · 19 days ago

Text

PUSH AND PULL

a/n: Hey! Sorry it's been a long time, but rn I have a lot of exams… While I finish them, here's something I've written before.

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: they fight but happy ending! long af

summary: In love, mess is inevitable—especially when you're as stubborn as Jude and you. A fight breaks out, and with it, comes chaos. But instead of facing it like adults, you both become kids again, unable to stop poking at each other and pushing each other's buttons. Whether it's a teasing remark, a too-close-for-comfort touch, or a pointed silence, you both dance around your feelings, caught in the tension of unspoken frustration. However, when the stubborness between you becomes unbearable, one kiss shatters the walls you’ve both carefully built.

The flat was a battlefield of silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the sharp-edged, suffocating kind, where every creak of the floorboards sounded like an accusation. Jude sat sprawled on the couch, legs wide, one hand gripping the remote. The TV played highlights from some old match, but you could tell from the way his eyes lingered on the screen without focus that he wasn’t watching.

You also sat on the couch, cross-legged, your laptop balanced on your thighs. With the television humming faintly in the background, you pretended to be engrossed in your laptop, fingers brushing aimlessly over the keys. Your hair fell over one shoulder, hiding the way you glanced at him every so often, wondering if he would break the silence. He did not. What he did, was catching you once, his dark eyes locking with yours for a brief moment, before you both looked away as if burned.

The tension in the room was suffocating, as if the air itself refused to move. Neither of you dared to take the first step to break the silence, which stretched between you like an invisible wall. The funniest part was that, in a house so vast, the two of you had ended up in the same room, sharing the same couch, barely a few inches apart. It was almost ridiculous. Tho, you didn’t react. Not outwardly, at least. Internally, you rolled your eyes so hard it hurt.

The fight from last night sat heavily between you. It was the kind of argument that left no room for winners, only wounds. You weren’t even sure how it started. He neither. A jab here, a poorly timed comment there, and before you knew it, the words turned sharp, biting into places neither of you wanted exposed. And now, all that was left was this: icy silence and the simmering frustration of two people who loved each other too much to let go but were too proud to make the first move.

Jude turned up the volume on the TV—just a notch higher than necessary. A small, petty move, but you caught it. You gritted your teeth and opened another tab on your laptop, pretending to type while your jaw clenched.

He leaned back, draping an arm casually across the back of the couch, his shirt hitching up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. A silver of his abs. You noticed—of course, you noticed—but you stubbornly refused to let your gaze linger. He was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The smug bastard.

To be fair, you weren’t entirely innocent either. You’d been wandering around the house all day without a bra, and you were well aware of how his eyes occasionally darted toward you before he quickly looked away. It wasn’t overt, nothing you could call him out on, but you could feel his awareness of you, just as you were hyper-aware of him.

In retaliation, you slammed your laptop shut, regardless of the tabs you had open. The noise echoed through the room, over the loud volume of the TV, and for a moment, Jude’s eyes met yours. There was a challenge in his gaze, a slight arch of his eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. Then, as if nothing, you opened the device again.

After a while, your boyfriend, decided that now the couch was not as comfortable as it was minutes before and went to the kitchen. In there, Jude’s movements were deliberate, exaggerated in a way that felt almost taunting. He opened the fridge with more force than necessary, the door creaking loudly, and lingered there for what felt like forever before finally pulling out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap with unnecessary force, the crack of the seal piercing the silence.

“You could’ve done that quieter,” you muttered, not looking up from your screen.

He snorted, the sound low and derisive. “You’ve been so sensitive later.”

Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t respond. Instead, you tapped harder on your keyboard, the clatter of the keys a pointed counter to his earlier disruption. It was petty, childish even, but you couldn’t help yourself. If he was going to be difficult, you could be too. You knew he hated that, and when you turned back, you caught the briefest twitch of his lips, as if he was holding back a smirk.

The audacity of him almost made you snap again.

The minutes dragged on, and the uneasy rhythm of your coexistence continued. Jude eventually moved to the living room, sprawling across the other end of the couch. His long legs stretched out, nudging your thigh as he adjusted his position. It wasn’t accidental—you could tell by the faint smirk that tugged at his lips when you glared at him.

“Can you not?” you snapped, shifting slightly away from him. Honestly, even when you were angry, you still liked the warmth of his contact, but you knew that pulling away would bother him.

“What? I’m just sitting,” he said, his tone infuriatingly casual. But then he moved his leg again, deliberately pressing it against yours, skin against warm skin. This time, you didn’t move, choosing instead to act as if you didn’t notice at all.

“Sitting doesn’t involve invading someone else’s space.”

He didn’t respond, but the smirk on his face only deepened, as if he found your irritation amusing. Leaning further back into the couch, he made himself completely comfortable, clearly unbothered.

You turned your focus back to your laptop, though you weren’t sure why you bothered. It wasn’t like you were getting any actual work done.

When he grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels, the sound of the TV growing louder with each change, you shot him another glare. He didn’t acknowledge it, his gaze fixed on the screen as if he couldn’t feel the weight of your annoyance.

“Are you trying to be obnoxious, or does it just come naturally?” you asked, your voice sharp.

He finally turned to look at you, annoyed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, but neither of you said anything more. Instead, you both retreated into the silence, your mutual frustration simmering just below the surface.

By early afternoon, the passive-aggressive dance had reached new heights. You were in the kitchen, making yourself a coffee when he got up moments later, brushing past you as he headed to the sink. You could have moved, made it easier for him, but you didn’t. Neither did he. Your shoulders bumped, and you felt a spark of irritation—at him, at yourself, at the situation.

“Excuse me,” he said finally, his tone clipped but low, his breath brushing your temple as he reached over you for a glass. You stepped aside, not because you wanted to but because your pride wouldn’t let you linger there like some lovesick fool.

He filled the glass with water, the sound of it cascading against the sink somehow louder than necessary. His presence so close to you was suffocating, but you refused to move too far. He stood there for a moment with heavy eye contact after taking a sip, leaning against the counter like he was waiting for you to react.

You didn’t.

Instead, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it, appearing uninterested. You saw him glance at you from the corner of his eye, and for a fleeting second, you thought you saw amusement flicker across his face. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way—sharp glances, clipped words, and small actions that seemed designed to provoke the other. When Jude left his empty glass on the coffee table instead of taking it to the sink, you picked it up with exaggerated care, your movements pointedly loud as you placed it in the dishwasher. When you adjusted the thermostat without asking, he changed it back moments later, the beep of the controls echoing like a challenge.

This repeated a few times.

Neither of you said what you really wanted to say. The words hovered in the air, unspoken but undeniable, like a ghost haunting the space between you.

As the night deepened, the tension between you became almost unbearable, thick and suffocating in the dimly lit room. You lay curled up on the bed, your fingers mindlessly scrolling through your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating your face. At the other end of the mattress, Jude sat hunched over his own device, the faint light from his screen carving sharp shadows across his features. His face was drawn tight, his brows furrowed in a way that made the lines of worry and frustration painfully obvious. You couldn’t help but wonder if you looked the same—tired, distant, and weighed down by the silence hanging between you.

You despised this chasm that had grown between you, the quiet hostility that lingered unspoken in the air. The silence wasn’t a comfortable one—it was filled with an unrelenting tension, an undercurrent of anger and hurt that felt alien and wrong. This wasn’t what you had envisioned. It wasn’t what you wanted. You loved him, even now, even through the haze of pain and frustration that churned within you. That love was still there, steady and unwavering, but it felt harder to reach, buried beneath the heavy layers of everything left unsaid.

Jude shifted slightly, his movement breaking the stillness. His fingers brushed against your arm, light as a whisper, a touch so brief it was almost nothing—but it wasn’t nothing. The contact jolted through you, surprising in its warmth and its ability to remind you of what once felt so natural. For a moment, you both froze. The touch lingered, suspended in time, carrying more weight than such a small gesture should. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, he pulled his hand away, retreating back to his side of the bed.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

The bed had grown colder as the hours ticked on, the tension between you and Jude acting like an invisible barrier, keeping you both firmly planted on opposite ends of the mattress. Sleep came to you first, though not peacefully—it was the restless kind, with the occasional shuffle and murmured sigh as your body sought the warmth that your pride kept you from asking for.

Jude stayed awake longer, his phone abandoned on the nightstand. His gaze flickered toward your sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of your shoulders pulling at something deep inside him. Even in sleep, there was a tightness to the set of your jaw, a lingering sign of the frustration that had consumed the day. He wanted to reach out, to smooth the lines away with his thumb, to press a kiss to the crown of your head like he always did when you argued. But the memory of your sharp words, and his own stubbornness, kept him still.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted off into a restless slumber.

Next morning, the dim light of morning crept through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft stripes across the room. Jude stirred first, his body stiff and warm under the tangled sheets. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, until he became acutely aware of two things: the faint scent of your shampoo and the fact that his arm was draped securely around your waist.

His heart thudded once, heavy and slow, as the realization hit. Sometime during the night, you two had moved closer, the invisible wall of your argument forgotten in sleep. Your back was pressed against his chest, your legs loosely intertwined, his nose buried in the crown of your hair. It felt impossibly natural, like the way you used to fit before the fight. His hold on you was firm but careful, as if even his sleeping self knew you were something precious, something not to let go of.

Jude’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles before his pride crept in, whispering to him that this was just a fluke. He wasn’t supposed to be happy about this, was he? You were still angry—still caught in the push and pull of your unresolved tension. But damn it, holding you like this felt good. Really good. It felt right. He allowed himself one more selfish second to savor the moment before you stirred.

Your soft murmur pulled him from his thoughts. You shifted slightly, pressing closer to his chest, your body melting into his as if seeking his warmth even in sleep. His heart ached, and a wave of affection so fierce it startled him coursed through his chest. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you he was sorry for the things he said, the things he didn’t say. But pride anchored him in place, so instead, he lay there, pretending he didn’t feel anything at all.

You woke to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the unmistakable weight of his arm around you. For a moment, still caught in the haze of sleep, you sighed contentedly, nestling closer to the warmth behind you. It felt safe, familiar, and so achingly right that it made your chest tighten.

But then, reality crashed in like a bucket of cold water. You froze, eyes flying open, as you realized exactly where you were—and who you were with. The fight, the tension, the stubborn refusal to bridge the gap between you—it all came rushing back, drowning out the soft thrum of happiness that lingered from waking in his arms.

Still, you didn’t move immediately. Instead, you let yourself linger for just a moment longer, feeling the solidness of him behind you, the warmth of his breath against your neck. Your heart ached with love, raw and unrelenting, a stark contrast to the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. How could you feel both so intensely at once?

You wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and let the love you felt show on your face. But the pride that had fueled your argument held you still. You couldn’t be the first to crack—not after last night. So, you did what you always did: you pushed the feelings down, buried them under a layer of indifference, and carefully shifted away.

You swung your legs out of bed, avoiding Jude’s gaze as you reached for your robe. He remained lounging on his side, his dark eyes tracking your movements.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. It wasn’t quite warm, but it lacked the sharp edge from yesterday.

“Morning,” you replied, fastening the belt of your robe with deliberate nonchalance.

As you padded to the kitchen to start the coffee, Jude followed, his footsteps soft but noticeable. He leaned casually against the counter as you worked, his arms crossed over his chest. The silence between you hung heavy but was no longer suffocating—just thick with the remnants of stubborn pride.

“You’re not going to make me a cup too?” he asked, arching a brow when you filled a single mug. A smirk tugged at his lips.

Yep, that early in the morning.

You turned, lips also twitching. “Last I checked, you have two hands and know where the mugs are.”

That smirk persisted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t mocking—it was teasing. “Wow. So generous this morning.”

You shrugged, raising your mug to your lips. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Jude shook his head, stepping forward to grab his own cup. You moved to lean against the counter opposite him, your mug cradled in both hands. He stood closer than necessary, the distance between you shrinking inch by inch as the minutes passed.

“You were hogging the blanket last night,” he stated suddenly, breaking the quiet.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me? I was hogging the blanket? You’re the human furnace who takes up three-quarters of the bed.”

He scoffed, setting his mug down. “Three-quarters? Dramatic much? You sleep like a starfish.”

A laugh escaped before you could stop it—a real, unguarded laugh that felt like a balm to the tension still clinging to the edges of the morning. Jude’s lips quirked into a grin, the kind that softened the sharp lines of his face and made your heart skip despite yourself. You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

The teasing was lighthearted, a refreshing shift from the icy tension of the previous day. But underneath it, the stubbornness remained—a silent promise that neither of you would be the first to openly admit you wanted peace.

Jude leaned against the counter, his coffee in hand, watching you with that maddening smirk. It wasn’t just his expression; it was the way he stood, as if the entire kitchen belonged to him, as if he were perfectly at ease and you were the one who had to figure out how to navigate the unspoken rules of this little game.

“You’re staring,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your coffee calmly.

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Can you blame me? You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“Oh, please,” you retorted, setting your mug down and crossing your arms. “I’m not in the mood for your cheesy one-liners. They are not working.”

“It wasn’t a one-liner. It was an observation,” he replied smoothly, taking a step closer. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “And besides, it’s not my fault you look cute when you’re grumpy.”

Your jaw tightened, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, twitching upward for just a moment before you caught yourself. “I know you miss me, but this is not the way of fixing things.”

“Miss you?” he shot back, leaning closer, his proximity making your heart stutter. “I woke up with you cuddling against me so…”

You rolled your eyes and turned away, feigning nonchalance as you began to tidy the already clean counter. “That’s not how... forget it,”

The morning passed in a steady rhythm of petty jabs and fleeting touches that neither of you could resist. When you walked past him to grab something from the pantry, his hand brushed lightly against your lower back—just enough to make your skin tingle. You shot him a look over your shoulder, but he was already looking elsewhere, as if the contact had been incidental. You knew better.

Later, as you stood by the sink rinsing your mug, Jude joined you, crowding your space under the guise of washing his hands. The sink was large enough for both of you, but he leaned in anyway, his arm brushing against yours, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“Do you mind?” you asked, tilting your head to glare at him.

“Not at all,” he replied with a grin, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You huffed, turning to move away, but his hand darted out to catch yours. The suddenness of it made you freeze, and for a moment, you just stared at each other, the air thickening between you. Jude’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a simple, unassuming touch that sent shivers racing up your arm.

But just as quickly, he released you, his smirk returning as if to mask the moment of vulnerability. “Don’t trip over your own stubbornness,” he said, stepping back.

You bristled, turning sharply to face him. “Me? Stubborn? That’s rich coming from you.”

The tension that had been simmering all morning suddenly flared, sharp and electric. That was what you both needed. “You’ve been impossible since yesterday,” he shot back, his voice rising just enough to match yours. “I’m not the one slamming laptops shut and stomping around like a child.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer, your chest brushing against his as you jabbed a finger at his chest. “And I’m not the one deliberately trying to piss the other off!”

Jude tilted his head, his smirk fading into something darker, more serious. “Oh, you think I’m the one pushing buttons here? Newsflash, love—you’ve been just as bad.”

“Love?” you repeated, your voice dripping with incredulity. “Don’t you dare—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Jude’s hands moved, quick and decisive. One slid to the small of your back, the other cupped your ass firmly, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you against him and lifted you off the ground. A startled gasp escaped your lips, but it was swallowed almost immediately as his mouth crashed against yours.

Finally, you thought to yourself, something you would never say out-loud.

The kiss was hot and demanding, a clash of teeth and tongues that mirrored the intensity of your earlier fight. Jude’s lips moved against yours with a ferocity that left no room for argument, his grip on you possessive and unyielding. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your hands finding purchase in his neck as you pulled him closer.

For a moment, you forgot everything—the fight, the pride, the stubbornness. All that existed was the heat of his mouth on yours, the solidness of his body pressed against you, and the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go. It was messy and desperate and so painfully raw that it left you breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were red and swollen, his breathing uneven as he stared at you with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something softer. “You argue too much,” he said, his voice rough and low.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to process what had just happened. “And you—”

“No no, shhh,” he interrupted, his mouth crashing against yours again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. It was an apology, a truce, and a declaration all rolled into one.

When he pulled back this time, his hands lingered, one sliding up to cup your cheek while the other stayed firmly at your waist. His thumb brushed lightly across your skin, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. His chest was heaving, just like yours, as if the kiss had stolen the air from both of you.

You stared at him, the heat of his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with everything that had just been said without words.

Finally, you broke it, your voice soft but steady. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “For… being difficult. For letting it drag on like this.”

Jude raised a brow, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “Oh, so you can apologize,” he teased, though the smirk on his face softened at the edges.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched despite yourself. “Juuude, don’t ruin the moment,” you warned, your tone light.

“I’m not,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Keep going, come on, I want to hear you say how wrong you were.”

Your laugh slipped out before you could stop it, and you swatted lightly at his chest. “Don’t push it.” But then your smile faded, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “I really am sorry, baby.”

His teasing faded as he looked at you, the sincerity in your voice settling over him like a balm. “Yeah, well,” he began, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer. “I’m sorry too. For being a stubborn ass. And for… picking fights when I should’ve just talked to you.”

You tilted your head slightly, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”

His thumb traced circles against your hip, his touch impossibly warm. “We’re kind of great, though,” he whispered, his voice almost teasing. “When we’re not driving each other crazy.”

You let out another soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re not wrong.”

The air between you shifted, the playfulness giving way to something deeper. Your lips hovered over his, your breaths mingling as the tension built again, electric and magnetic. You kissed him this time, slow but deliberate, pouring every ounce of affection and apology into it. His grip on your waist and ass tightened, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the way his heartbeat echoed yours, fast and unsteady.

When you finally broke apart, his lips were slightly swollen, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazed down at you. “You’re a tease, you know that?” he muttered, his voice husky.

You smirked, the heat still thrumming through your veins. “Only for you.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere. Then, without warning, he bent slightly, sliding his hands down to your thighs and hoisting you up effortlessly. A surprised laugh escaped you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you out of the kitchen.

“Jude—what are you doing?” you asked, though your tone betrayed more excitement than protest.

“Making up properly,” he replied, his voice low and rough in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “No more interruptions.”

You didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands threading through his hair as he kissed you again, his lips stealing every thought from your mind. Whatever tension had lingered between you melted away completely, leaving only warmth, laughter, and the undeniable pull of each other.

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halfbloodfics · 5 months ago

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Hiya 🤗

If no ones requested this already, Snape giving the reader their first squirting orgasm and talking her through it too 👀

absolutely hell yes i can write this

thank u for the request!!

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), Smut, Explicit Smut, NSFW, slight degredation, gentle dom sev

You tried, failed, tried again to catch your breath. Laying sprawled out in Severus' bed, his head still between your legs, giving you only a few moments of temporary mercy to recoperate from the seven consecutive orgasms he'd managed to draw out from you during the past half hour.

He chuckled quietly, staring up at you with a smug look.

Bastard. You thought. Proud, arrogant, sexy bastard.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" He said, peppering a few tender kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His teeth ever so gently bit your skin, pulling just gently on the delicate skin close to your cunt.

A shaky exhale escaped your mouth, feeling overly sensitive.

"Sev..." You breathed. "I don't know how much I can take..."

He paused, looking up at you again, breath hot against your cunt.

"Would you like to stop darling?"

Looking down at him, you met his dark eyes. As filled with lust as they were, there was an equal amount of care within them. It was obvious, especially today, in the way he had praised you inbetween each of your seven orgasms, hands stern and gentle, asking for your consent after each one, that he always took care of you. But Merlin, did his eyes darken everytime you begged for more.

You smiled gently, feeling your heartbeat finally begin to come back down to its normal rhythm. You were sweaty, exhausted and overstimulated in a way you'd never felt before. But somehow, you still wanted... More.

You shook your head, sheepishly offering a small: "Not at all."

The corner of his mouth drew up in a smirk and he rose between your legs and crawled overtop of you. His hands gently pushed your shoulders back down to rest on the mattress.

"Greedy girl." He whispered in your ear as he adjusted his weight between your legs. "Always wanting more of me."

A gasp escaped your mouth as he began to grind ever so slightly on you, a teasingly slow, gentle pace, but given how sensitive you were, he may as well have been fucking you.

Severus hummed, kissing the side of your cheek ever so gently. "Tell me what you need so badly, my greedy girl."

You whimpered as his clothed cock rubbed perfectly against your sensitive clit. Completely naked under his entirely clothed body, exposed and desprete, you whimpered against his cheek, hands reaching up to caress his flexed arms.

It came out barely a whisper: "Please, Severus, fuck me."

He groaned, kissing you roughly and reaching down with one arm to free himself from his trousers. He broke free, watching your eyes flutter shut as he teased your clit with the tip his cock.

Your lips parted to protest, but before any complaint could escape, Severus pushed himself in his entireity inside, drawing a loud moan out from your mouth instead.

You shuddered, legs shaking slightly from the pleasure. The many orgasms you'd experienced were enough to prep you well for his size, but at the cost of your sensitivity... He had not even moved yet, instead chucking slightly at your trembling figure beneath him.

"That's my girl." He hummed, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

Gently, he began to thrust inside you. Smirking against your neck as your mouth sang out tiny whimpers and moans. He loved every bit of this. Knowing that every reaction, every sound, was for him. That he was making you feel so good. That you craved him. That you were his.

"My girl.." He whispered against your ear, thrusts begining to pick up in pace.

Your legs began to shake harder, eyes closed tight. Moans flew out from your agape mouth as his pace increased again, now fucking you with a steady, quick rhythm. Each thrust hit that spot inside you, your walls tightening around him, that familiar feeling building in your stomach.

But this time, so much quicker... Had it even been more than 5 minutes? You were already so close... So very close, when Severus had reached down with his right hand, taking his thumb to your clit and tracing slow circles.

You let out a sound that was more or less a scream, eyes shooting open, arms tightening around Severus's back.

"S-Sev. Fuck.. I-" The sentance barely left your mouth.

His pace quickend just slightly. "What is it? Hm? Are you going to cum for me? Again? Do I make you feel that good?"

His other hand began to stroke your hair, thumb caressing away the sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, lips gently kissing on your neck. He groaned, quietly. "Do I make you feel that good, dirty girl?"

You were blissed out, feeling the wave build up, getting ready to ride it like you had a million times before with him. But there was a stirring feeling in your gut, the heat of your cunt, a tightening you hadn't felt before. With every thrust, you felt as though something inside you would explode.

Fuck.

"W-wait, S-sev stop." You breathed out, panting.

He stopped immediately, tearing his head from your neck to look you in the eyes.

"What is it?" He said, concern laced in his voice, "Did I hurt you, are you alright?"

You panted, trying despretely to find the words. Heat crept into your cheeks. "No, no, I'm fine. I just... Something feels... Off..."

Both hands now reached up to cup your face, his cock still inside you. "Off?" He panted, catching his breath as well.

You nodded. "Like, it feels.. Incredible... I've never really... Felt anything like.. But.. It kinda feels like... I have to? Use the washroom?"

Severus's brows furrowed in confusion as you nervously confessed. Only for a moment, as something in his eyes flashed in recognition, brows relaxing again.

"Oh... Darling.." He started, still carasseing your cheeks as he looked into your eyes. "Have you never squirted before?"

Huh?

The look on your face must have gave it away, but regardless, you shook your head gently, feeling almost ashamed and looking away.

Knowing your thoughts, Severus guided your face back to him in that reassuring way he always does when you're upset, whispering: "Hey, hey, my love. It's okay. That's okay that you have never."

You looked to his eyes and found no judgement, no disgust or trace of laughter. Only the same care and lust you'd seen all night.

He kissed your forehead so gently it almost tickled. "Would you like to, experience that with me?"

"I... What.. What happens when I..."

His eyes darkened and somehow all the anxiety you had been feeling just seconds ago disapated. The familiar need creeping back in.

He very slightly cocked his head. "Would you like me to show you?"

You swallowed. Nodded. Nodded again.

And he smiled a sort of smirk, before gently pulling out of you again, only to slam back in harder than he had before.

You gasped, nails digging into his back, head thrust back against the pillow.

With his arms on each side of you, his head returned to the crook of your neck, kissing, biting and sucking. Filling every sense in your body with him. All of him, all over you, everywhere.

His hand trailed down, brushing past your nipple, your bellybutton, down to your cunt. His thumb trailing circles on your clit again, a little harder this time, in time with the fast, rough pace he was now fucking you, the tip of his cock hitting that deep spot inside of you again.

Against his ear, you whimpered a moan that almost sounded like a cry. Nails digging into his back somehow harder as your legs began to shake again, more furiously than last time. Your stomach tightened.

"S-Sev..." You whimpered. "I d-don't know how-"

"Shh darling." He groaned, the sound vibrating against your neck. "I'll show you. I'll take care of you."

He kissed up your neck, up your jaw, until his hot breath was against your ear.

"I'll make you feel good baby."

Thrust.

"I'll give you what you need."

Thrust.

Your entire body began to convulse now. White hot pleasure coursing through you, it felt as if it was in your entire body now, not localized just to your cunt. As if Severus was inside of you, touching every cell, filling every fiber of your being with a pleasure you'd never experienced before.

His thumb continued it's steady pace, the bed creaking with every hard thrust.

Tightening.

"Sev-er-us.. Fuck.. I feel.. I'm gonna" You panted, eyes closed.

He groaned, low and deep. "I know baby. It's alright, I got you."

Thrust.

"I've got you, fuck, that's it, come on." He moaned against your jaw, left hand tightening its grip in your hair. "Relax your stomach now, breathe into it. Let it wash over you."

You tried your best to listen, tried to relax your stomach despite the rapid shaking of your entire body. Focused your breath into your stomach despite the tightening within it. And with it, something snapped, a thread, broke and let go.

Your body convulsed as you came on his cock, cunt tightening as you squirted all over him. Your orgasm wetting his cock, the sheets beneath you, his pants.

Severus groaned, fucking you now even harder, even more primal. As if the pride of giving you your first squirting orgasm had filled him with even more lust. His thumb kept drawing that same circle on your sensitive clit, picking up the pace as you squirted for him again.. And again.. And again.. Crying out and writhing beneath him, tears of pleasure rollled down your cheeks.

"That's it baby," He panted, "Just like that, fuck. Just. Like. That."

You continued to gush all over him, your orgasm lasting longer than you knew possible, trying your best to breathe like he'd told you too. Shaking, whimpering underneath him, you clung to him, pulling him in even closer.

"Shh, darling. I've got you, I've got you my love. Let yourself feel good, just like that."

His pace faltered, hips beginning to jerk as he tightened his grip on your hair, his thumb beginning to pick up it's pace with rapid desire. His own body began to shake against yours.

"Such a, fuck, good girl." He groaned into your neck. "Gonna make me cum like that."

You couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop squirting, waves of pleasure rolling over you with no end. One after the other.

Severus moaned, loud and deep and muffled against your neck, his hips spasming as he thrusted deep into you once more, cuming inside you and finally relenting, releasing his thumb and his cock from your slick cunt.

He panted against your shaking body for a moment, the two of you catching your breath.

After a few seconds, he pulled you against him, his body flush against your back as you lay in little spoon, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

"Shh..." He whispered, caressing your shaking body. "Breathe, darling."

You drew in a shaky, long breath, trying your best to hold it for a second before releasing.

"Good girl." He murmered against your ear. "You did so well for me."

You hummed, smiling ever so slightly, eyes still closed in bliss. Exhaustion plagued your body, but no more so than pleasure.

He kissed behind your ear, a soft sigh leaving your mouth at the gentle contact.

"Are you alright, my love?" He whispered, fingers tracing circles on your arm.

You nodded slowly, turning slightly so he could see the soft, exhausted smile on your face.

He chuckled softly, kissing your lips and then murmering: "Enjoyed it, did you?"

You nodded again, your smile growing a little wider.

"Thank you, Sev." You whispered, your lips just barely brushing his.

You watched a small smile grow across his face as he looked into your eyes, his gaze gentle and loving. "Thank you, Y/N. For trusting me. You made such a beautiful mess."

You craned your head to look down at the soaked sheets. Heat rose to your cheeks a breathy laugh escaped your lips as you let your head fall back down against Severus's arm.

He kissed you on the lips, tenderly, gently, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. "I am going to get you a glass of water. You'll need to rehydrate." He said softly.

A wider smile spread across your cheeks, eyes closing again in bliss. "You really do take care of me."

la fin

i hope this was alright, this is honestly my first time ever writing smut (well technically second since this is my second fic on here), so i'm very new to this, but i hope it's alright. thank u for the rec <3

#severus snape #severus x reader #snape smut #snape fic #snape x y/n #pro snape #professor snape #severus #severus smut #smut #severus snape smut #snape x you #snape x reader #snape fandom #snape fanfiction #snapedom #pro severus #snape

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nyoomerr · 8 months ago

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Normally, the community of Proud Immortal Demon Way can hardly be called as such. To call PIDW readers a ‘fandom’ would be akin to calling everyone who visited the same porn site a family. PeerlessCucumber is a loud exception, but in the end he’s still only an exception - by and large, people reading PIDW know exactly what they’re there for, and it certainly isn’t for any sense of shared enjoyment or community.

The community of people following PeerlessCucumber himself, however, is a whole different story.

PeerlessCucumber is the asshole single handedly responsible for at least seven different copypastas, the rich bastard that will pay an artist’s rent for a single picture of Luo Binghe if only the artist can tolerate his demands for constant revisions, the dictionary definition of an anti-fan.

He is also blissfully unaware of the absolute glee in which people take in riling him up. And in the age of the modern internet, nothing brings a group of strangers together like the opportunity to poke fun of a guy like that.

“How do I look?” HualingsWife whispers to her companions. They take a moment to scrutinize her, gaze lingering around her chest.

“I don’t know,” SwordsOfCultivators says, “I think the guy ahead of you let his robes drape open further.”

HualingsWife rolls her eyes. “If I let my robes drape open that far, I’d be disqualified - you know the rules are different for men.”

“It’s not like you’re looking to win, though,” XuanyuMeat says. “And the open chest is clearly effective.”

The three of them pause, turning to look at the stage from their spot in the wings. The competitor that came before HualingsWife is running through a series of poses that are slowly but surely allowing his robes to slip ever wider.

Two of the judges are watching with thinly veiled amusement - after several years of this tradition, they’ve gotten used to the chaos that PeerlessCucumber’s fans bring to these cosplay competitions.

The third judge is PeerlessCucumber himself, and he looks like he might be experiencing a serious health condition. A serious mental health condition, to be clear.

“- robes of inferior make! Binghe’s exposure is always purposeful, and artful, and it wouldn’t be because he was wearing robes that didn’t fit him! If you don’t care about dressing true to his character -!”

“Hm,” SwordsOfCultivators hums. “Is it just me, or is Peerless not being as harsh as he usually is? Do you think he’s finally losing some of his obsession with Luo Binghe?”

“He better not!” HualingsWife cries. “I’ve put way too much time and money into working on a cosplay for that awful porn book for him to lose interest right when I get my chance to join the torturing-Peerless-fun!”

“No, no,” XuanyuMeat says, shaking their head. “You heard his rants for the Luo Binghe cosplayers one through four - he was especially cruel to them! Look at his face now, that isn’t the face of someone losing interest!”

They turn back to the stage. Luo Binghe cosplayer number five - likely DickBiggerThanBinghe, if HualingsWife were to guess based on her limited interactions with him in the PeerlessWatchers discord chat - looks unbearably smug. His robes have fallen completely off his shoulders by now.

PeerlessCucumber, on the other hand, looks so red HualingsWife wouldn’t be surprised if she started seeing steam pouring out of his ears.

“Ah,” she says, understanding. “You think he’s recently finally realized his obsession with Luo Binghe isn’t that of a straight man’s?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to get this flustered over a man’s exposed chest and still think it was caused purely by the outrage of seeing one of our ‘poorly done’ cosplays,” XuanyuMeat says wryly. They send HaulingsWife a pointed side eye. “So…”

“Oh yeah, I’m on it,” HualingsWife says, already loosening her robes further. “Just make sure to have the cameras ready to get the direct comparison of his reaction to a woman’s nip-slip versus the absolute conniption he’s going through now.”

“Please, he probably won’t even see it - he’ll probably get all awkward and look away like he does with any female cosplayer dressed in anything but a full body suit.”

“I think he’ll peek through his fingers anyway,” SwordsOfCultivators says gleefully. “He wouldn’t dare miss the chance to oggle another Luo Binghe cosplayer.”

On stage, DickBiggerThanBinghe finally waltzes off, having received his scoring from all three judges and a score from the back of the room where the group of PeerlessWatchers are sitting.

After all, none of them are really here for the actual cosplay competition. They only care about one thing: whoever can get the highest scoring Peerless rant about their cosplay will pay for dinner for everyone that night.

“Ohh, seven out of ten!” HualingsWife says, as the group PeerlessWatchers wave their scorecard around with glee. “The last time someone got scored that highly was when TofuBuns dared to cosplay as a half-dead Luo Binghe covered in wounds!”

“TofuBuns still has their display name set to ‘faithless mongrel undeserving of witnessing Binghes success’ in the discord server,” SwordsOfCultivators sighs. “I can only hope to one day trigger a Peerless rant so iconic.”

On stage, one of the judges glances down at the score sheet, sees that another Luo Binghe cosplayer is scheduled to come out next, and stifles a laugh before gesturing for HualingsWife to come on.

“No way I’m getting something that iconic my first try,” HualingsWife says, “but if I can get Peerless to make that hilarious choking noise he made the last time he saw a female-presenting Luo Binghe, I’ll count it as a win.”

#and for the record this is totally an AU in which one day bingge shows up and accidentally stumbles on stage while sy is judging #torn between bingge being the one guy sy can find no complaints with or if bingge should ALSO have to bear sy tearing his outfit apart tho #svsss #人渣反派自救系统 #scum villain's self saving system #fic drabble

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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago

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More shifter Au thoughts because my brain just does not stop for one second. Shifter!Reader doesnt know what nesting is, they grew up in a home without love, her parents marriage and her subsequent birth a thing of politics and power (both her parents coming from powerful shifter families) so she never saw her parents nest despite being shifters. So she doesn't know what is, nevermind how to do it and she was the only shifter in her friend group so she never saw their parents or them displaying the behaviour. And then she meets Shifter!TF141 and gets really close to them and starts to fall for the boys. Once their mission is over, she invites them all to her families villa in the French country side for some sun and realaxation and its private so Simon doesnt have to worrry about anyone seeing his mask or his face. They all agree and set up a date, shes there a few days earlier helping the staff set up and making sure everythings perfect. But now she has this urge, no the absolute need for sofr throws and pillows to be lining the sofas and beds, the pillows pilled up high and in a circle, almost like a fort she would build when she was a child, especially in her room. The staff just watch on with smiles on their face and whisper to one another giggling about in love she is. One of the oldest staff, an older woman who had been with her since was a child approaches her and talks to her about it, realising she didn't even know why she was doing it, bringing her a cup of tea and holding her hands gently as she explains nesting "you're trying to make it safe and comforting for your mates, to show them you'd be a good homemaker and mother" Reader just looks at her like a shocked pikachu and keeps muttering about "her mates", she didnt even realise just what had happened in her time with TF141 and how much she had actually feel for them. When the boys arrive, they're in awe of the beautiful house but they're more in awe of the different nests she has created throughout the houses. Price is the first to approach her, hand landing gently on her face as he dips his nose down to her neck letting a comforting rumble that almost sounded like a purr bleed from his chest, one the other boys mimiced as they stepped closer to her, circling her body, "you do all this for us love" she nods her head meekly as Jonny places a soft kiss to her head from behind, his hands finding her hips and his chest placed against hers so she can feel the vibrations from his purr, "its perfect bonnie". She tilts her head back against Johnnys chest as Gaz places his head on her shoulder, twisted slightly so he place a soft kiss against her pulse point, to give him more room and her eyes dart to Simon, standing a small distance away and she reaches her hand out to him which he gladly takes and presses a small kiss against her palm and then her kuncles before stepping closer and plaving it on his chest right above his heart.

Safe to say the nest in her room was broken in that night

I can’t hoard this golden ask anymore 😔 godddd i love this so, so very much?? The concept of never actually being familiar with any of your more domestic instincts to the point you don’t know shit abt them but you still fond yourself feeling loved enough where you can still partake in them <333

But also the way the 141 will just be so?? Happy?? Proud and smug bastards, because no one else has made you feel like thay except for them and they are the only ones allowed to see all these pretty little nests you’ve made all over the place just to appease them. They love it and they love you <33

#noona.asks #cod x reader #cod x you #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #poly!141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #poly 141

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simplyreveries · 1 year ago

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when they're pining; dorm leaders!

riddle rosehearts

becomes an absolute sucker and hates it but loves it at the same time. like he's wondering why he's doing all these things and going out of his way for your approval he'll be frustrated with himself but once he sees you smiling the slightest at him, he's a fool and forgets what he was ever upset about in the first place.

you get the best treatment whenever you're at his dorm, heartslabyul. the dormmates hate seeing it, the only perks they get is that riddle will be somewhat lenient with them whenever you're around. his attention will usually be strictly focused on you anyway.

whenever he catches you walking to school or just around campus, he'll try to always find some sort of opportunity to stick around you. He doesn't even actively plan on how it just happens and ends up finding something to do with you. He loves making small attempts to tidy your uniform, so he can graze your shoulder something. he'll always scold you and claim he's helping you be more presentable and proper.

trey and cater 100% know about his little (big) infatuation with you and think its sweet. with cater he hates because he's always teasing riddle in front of you and making oh-so obvious attempts at getting you two together whereas trey is more subtle about it.

whenever he has a class with you, he tries to impress you with his knowledge and intelligence. He feels so proud and smug whenever he answers a difficult question with ease. But he just looks like a total nerd.

he reads books upon books of love and romance, trying to figure out what would charm and woo you. but he ends up only making himself a flushed embarrassed mess while reading nevertheless he continues.

leona kingscholar

sigh

this guy... would be way too stubborn to admit to himself that he's caught feelings for you. At the same time, I think he's so not used to anything romantic that he doesn't even fully realize he does. Like sure he thinks you're annoying as hell and tell you not to bother him but if you actually do end up leaving him alone, he'll be like?? tf?

he prompts to just silently listening to you as you talk or observe what you're doing. it may seem like he's not paying attention, his eyes are usually closed or he's looking down inspecting the chess board as you two play but trust me he really is. Like actually remembers everything. a little frightening.

lowkey lurks around you a lot of the time, also no one really want to come around you when he's right there and he's perfectly content with that since leonas such a little bastard when it comes to jealousy.

ruggie asks you a lot to come to magishift practice so that there's a high chance that leona will actually participate if he finds out you'll be there.

he enjoys it when you show interest in his homelands. though he resents his brother and struggles with his royal family-- the culture and history are something he's very keen on and will share if you ask.

azul ashengrotto

this man's attempt at pulling you are so bad its funny. He thinks he's mr smooth know it all but he's a total mess. he keeps a good facade ill give him that but he's dying inside around you because he doesn't want to look bad. it's upsetting but his own insecurities really do make it hard for him when it comes to his feelings.

he really doesn't know what to do when he feels so intensely about someone at first, he would just prompt to doing what he always does by trying to find some way to get you into a contract... despite knowing at this point you know way better and give him this confused deadpanned look.

He didn't really want the twins particularly knowing how he feels but they could tell right away and think it's the funniest thing ever as he turns into a mess around you. azul did make a mistake of asking jade and floyd to try getting more information on you subtly but that ended up backfiring awfully when floyd went up to you saying stuff like "shrimpy~ whatcha doing after school today? azul wanted to know." he never fails to out azul EVERY time and thinks its so funny he'll be like "what? i did what you asked."

whenever hes alone in his office or something writing stuff he accidentally writes your name all the time. he also would write letters to you-- ones he'd never send and would die if someone read but its a way of getting out his thoughts and feelings. he becomes all smiley and sighing blissfully as he does. he really thinks about you all the time. he could be doing a scummy deal with some poor heartslabyul student and be smiling and thinking about what kind of necklace would look the prettiest on you.

growing up in the sea his whole life, human-land courting and navigating romance out of the ocean is difficult as he sometimes accidently may revert to his own kinds ways. though he does make sure to do his own personal research on what to do.

kalim al-asim

everyone including yourself knows just how much he's in love with you. he has zero qualms expressing it to you the moment he realizes that he does. kalim literally talks about you all the time, im sure jamil is positively tired of it by now. hes always like "oh! (name) said something so funny earlier-" or "that reminds me of when (name)...." you constantly live in his brain. jamil could be trying to help him study and do his schoolwork and he's laying on his stomach,,, head in hands,, kicking his legs and talking about you.

gives you so much... he wants to give you so many gifts and spoil you abundantly all the time and gets confused when you tell him that you don't really need most of them. he really cant help it he swears.

invites you to so many of his parties and feasts. he also finds any excuse to throw you one, like genuinely you could tell him that you passed a test by like 2 points and he'll immediately think that this is something thats needed to be celebrated right away.

of course, he takes you out on his magic carpet for rides all the time, it's a little nerve-wracking for the first couple of times but you get used to it and besides though he is energetic you can still feel relaxed enough around him because of how sweet and caring he is. he always tells you hes got you and means it!!

vil schoenheit

vil adores putting makeup or skincare on you obviously. he finds it so endearingly intimate, it's very calming too considering how soft he is, and you get free access to the best brands. he always smiles softly, and you may here faint humming from him from time to time as he does.

like riddle, he does make sure to smooth or fix your uniform for you whenever you're out at school, you could be talking to him, and he'll just adjust your ribbon for you and be like okay go on. honestly, it may be hard not to get nervous around him when even doing something as simple as having a conversation, the way he intently looks at you and slightly tilts his head in amusement. you have his attention always.

invites you to stay at pomefiore a lot, stay for some tea at least but that can turn into a long time since he intends to make it that way to be around you longer.

would actually be so flattered and would love it if you went out of your way to watch any sort of media he's been in. he pays attention to characters you liked the most out of him, just maybe so he could figure out your type more.

idia shroud

im sorry but he just reminds me of this audio

i feel like he lowkey stalks your socials because hes too awkward to talk to you. he definitely has some fake account though because he learned it the hard way when he liked an old photo of yours by accident and didn't leave his room for almost 3 days

during the beginning stages of his feelings for you at least, whenever he talked to you it's a quick mumble of something and he leaves, leaving you like ??? ortho comes up to you later and tells you what he said on his brother's behalf.

ortho is a big wingman for Idia, he's so supportive of you two it's so sweet. you genuinely bring out a not so gloomy side in his big brother and he loves you for that. he has to try less to convince him to stay in class! what if he misses a chance to look at you for five seconds in the hallway?

when does end up getting a little more comfortable around you, he does get very smug and even pretty overconfident if you were to compliment his tech skills, if you ever need something fixed or even specifically designed and made for you, he'd do it in a heartbeat. he loves it when you watch him do it too in curiosity, he feels so cool and smart, he just prays you don't see his hands shaking.

when you give him the slightest praise or validation, he'll be thinking about that for DAYS. he'll have this cheeky grin on his face too as he thinks about it.

malleus draconia

You're perfect to him and as soon as he mentions your name in the diasomnia dorm you better be prepared to be invited by Lilia all the time dorm as he sets you and malleus on totally-not obvious dates planned with him. But he really just enjoys your time together when walking outside at night, he enjoys sharing with you facts about nightly creatures and watching you as you look in awe.

malleus adores showing off a little with his magic, is it too hot? don't like all the heat?? boom he'll make it rain. make some pretty flowers bloom out of nowhere? easy. he does it literally all the time and finds your reactions amusing. you had to stop him though when he got caught up and almost did large thorns when he was talking about briar valley history.

wants to give you so many jewels and adorn you with so many necklaces and rings and such, it's a problem haha. malleus loves nothing more than seeing you wear any of them despite your claims of not needing them, he insists.

he never fails to refer to you most of the time as "child of man" barely even your own name. I mean you gave him a nickname so he may as well return it.

#twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #riddle x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #disney twst #twst headcanons #twst imagines

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star2fishmeg · 8 days ago

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My sweet Meg, I'm not sure if your requests are open, but I'm just sitting here thinking about Jack coming home to you and you instantly praise him, telling him how well he played as always and he becomes a shy, bumbling mess but then he turns into a cheeky bastard and is all like, "yeah, you think so, pretty girl? Do I happen get a little reward for playing so well today?"

Beloved Brynn! I can finally pay you back with a blurb! And dw, only fic requests are closed, blurbs are open!

A smug smile forms across your lips hearing Jack's bedroom door close, and you peer out from his bathroom, leaning against the doorframe in nothing but his t-shirt and your panties. He doesn't notice you at first, occupied by putting his shoes and suit jacket back in his wardrobe, loosening his tie and putting it back where it belongs. You lean your head against the frame, watching quietly as he assumes you've fallen asleep and left the lamp on for him. To you, it seems weird how little attention he pays when he B-lines for his room, but then again, he's used to just heading straight for the wardrobe rather than searching the bed for you, you're not at his every night yet for him to do that and his brains fried after a game.

"Welcome home, first star of the night." You praise, folding your arms over your chest. He turns around, a warm smile on his face and shuffles towards you, almost surprised, "Looked pretty hot out there tonight, huh?"

"Oh yeah? You watched?" His hands slip under your shirt as usual, wrapping around your waist, yours looping around his shoulders. He steps backwards, guiding you towards the bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress and he sits, pulling you to straddle his lap.

You brush his hair away from his face, thumb swiping across his bottom lip and cupping his cheeks in your palms. His skin is warm, and his breathing becomes deep and relaxed, hands gliding up to your ribs and down to the waistband of your panties, pulling it back and letting it snap against your skin.

Jack thrives off your praise, it makes his chest warm and stomach flip in pleasant ways knowing his girlfriend thinks he's cool, as he puts it. With hooded eyes, you coo, "Of course I did, would never miss the opportunity to watch you wipe the floor with the other guys. Scored some pretty goals out there tonight."

"Stop it, wasn't that great, m'sure you watched me fall on my face out there." He rolls his eyes and grins, pink flushing to his cheeks and hides in your neck. Goosebumps run over his skin when your hands slide down his nape with gentle touches, lazily wrapping around his shoulders.

"Yet you're still my pretty boy, so don’t hide from me," pulling his face out, your lips trail wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck, swirling your tongue over the sweet spot he always moans at, nipping and giving the skin a small suck until purple blossoms, "you did so well tonight, J. Played so well, and hard work paid off, hm?"

Your hot breath fans over his nerves, hands finding their way to his collar start unbuttoning with your lips still moving along his neck. When his shirt opens, he shrugs it off his shoulders, a rumbly groan falling from his mouth as your fingertips trace over his chest and abs, following every ridge while your lips kiss under his earlobe.

"Princess, stop it, was nothin'-" he can't finish his sentence with your hips rolling over his lap, yet he's grinning with elation hearing how soft and sweet your voice is while praising him. He loves it, he loves it in a way that doesn't inflate his ego but his heart, the recognition that someone - who isn't his family or sports analyst - sees how he has passion for playing and working for the achievement. He wants to make you proud.

You bring your hands back to his shoulders, holding his jaw and forcing him to stop avoiding your gaze and look you in your lovesick eyes, noticing how his are glossed over and may as well have been in the shape of hearts with how dilated his pupils are.

Shivers crawl up your spine in euphoric shockwaves when his thumbs brush under your breasts, hiking your shirt up so he can the most miniscule glace of your hips moving. He can’t explain it but looking you in the eye makes him squirm and shy. He doesn’t get shy, that’s your impact on him.

"Nah, really played your part as alternate captain out there, makin' plays and finding openings, God you're just a bundle of talent, aren't you?" you nibble his earlobe before you press your lips to his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth until he's pulling you in and finding your tongue, lapping and swirling with deep moans reverberating in his chest. "Always playing a huge part in the team, no wonder they love you."

He bucks his hips up into you, one hand cupping your jaw and keeping you close to him, addicted to how you move your mouth against his.

"I think you played your best yet out there, two goals and an assist? That's hot." You mumble against his lips.

"Yeah, you think so, pretty girl? Do I happen to get a little reward for playing so well today?" Your constant grinding with your compliments causes a shift in him, an aching in his dick. He's got that shit-eating grin on his face, and you know what he wants the second his hands move to cup your breasts.

Without breaking eye-contact, you unbuckle his belt, fingers unzipping his fly and drowning in how pretty the way his eyes flutter close when you begin palming his erect cock through his boxers, "If you ask nicely."

"Please, princess? I’ve been good, I’ll be good." He breathes out, lulling his head back, hands kneading your chest and fingers pinching your nipples. You're excited, so excited your stomach feels like it's erupting with butterflies, and you take no hesitation in sliding back and onto your knees. Jack's cocky front crumbles when he finally looks down at you, your eyes doe-like staring up at him and shimmying his slacks and boxers to his ankles. Like the good boy he is, he lets himself go and groans the second your hand wraps around his base.

#≡jh86 #jack hughes #jack hughes x smut

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vagabond-umlaut · 4 months ago

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ramé

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

tags: set during gojo's past arc; childhood friends to lovers; pining-since-forever!gojo; oblivious-since-forever!you; tooth-rotting fluff; adorable banter; height difference; all your friends ship satoru & you; they all are very tired of you both as well; satoru & you-hashtag [not-canon-yet] relationship goals; angry protective gojo; hell lots of teasing; misunderstandings; arguments; angst with a VERY HAPPY ending

wc: 12k+ (i'm genuinely so proud of this, guys(gn) :D)

notes: decided to republish my most popular fic so far to celebrate my blog crossing 1000 followers! tysm for all the love and support u hv shown me, besties!!! <333 btw, jjk isn't mine. dividers by @/inklore. hope u enjoy reading this!

|1/6| overhaul your wardrobe.

a low whistle leaves gojo as he appraises himself in the mirror.

snow white hair neatly trimmed with short bangs, sunglasses from gucci giving a peek of his transfixing blue gaze, a fitting tom ford white shirt paired with black slacks and designer shoes, and, to top it all off, a perfume by bleu de chanel he bought especially for today...

there's no way in hell you won't find him attractive today.

with a smug smirk, the first-year swings the door to his dorm wide open, ready to astound the two waiting outside with his insanely good looks - and pauses, boisterous shout dying within his throat.

"'toru!!" you exclaim as you jump off the balustrade you were seated on and rush to him, a wide grin splitting your face into half. "surprise, i caught an earlier train!"

in spite of the shock, the boy feels his lips lift in a smile.

it's been nearly a year since the last time the two of you were face-to-face; you're still as beautiful as you were then.

"hey shortie," the words leave him in a whisper as you wrap your arms around him - only for a pained 'ouch!' to escape him a second later. massaging his side where you pinched him, the boy watches you step back with a scowl. (faux, of course.)

"call me that one more time and no one can save you from my wrath."

"wrath?" chuckling, gojo bends a bit to be your eye-level. you narrow your eyes at him. "you think that can scare me? the gojo satoru?"

"it sure can," folding your arms across your chest, you throw him a smirk in the next instant. "if it makes me share all the mochi i bought with ieiri senpai and geto senpai, and not give you the tiniest bit of it."

eyes widening behind glasses, a gasp escapes him. "you wouldn't!"

"i would," you answer, the same smirk as before still on your lips.

gojo backs off.

you're nothing if not awfully determined to make your promises see the light of the day. if he continues pestering you, the young sorcerer knows he'll actually not get a single morsel of those delicious sweets.

"you know what," a familiar voice cuts in through his thoughts and the boy twists to find his best friend walking towards him. sending him a discreet wink (which he deems is 100% suspicious), suguru reaches your side and continues, "satoru here was really excited about you coming to meet him."

"oh, is it so?" your smirk gives way to an angelic smile. gojo wishes it was directed at him instead of that long-haired bastard.

"yeah," said bastard meanwhile agrees with an overeager nod. "shoko and i too were really excited to meet the girl our friend is so infa-"

a tense silence befalls the corridor when suguru abruptly stops in the middle of the sentence. gojo swears if you weren't standing there, in front of them, he would have murdered his friend in cold blood today.

"infa-?" you prompt, smile dropping a little as your confused gaze darts from one to the other. gojo forces a chuckle out.

"it's nothing, don't you worry," he tries to draw your attention away, when shoko swoops in, like the savior she is (gojo decides to buy her one month's supply of cigarettes) and inquires, "hey, you haven't seen satoru in months, right? any change you find in him?"

that seems to be the trick. a curious glint shines in your eyes as they travel up and down his figure - appreciatively for sure, the boy says to himself. you too seem to have a liking for expensive things, after all.

after two seconds of close inspection, you turn to shoko with a bright smile. gojo's soul goes soaring at the sight in the clear skies above.

"nope! he's the same old 'toru i've always known."

gojo's soul crashes down upon the earth, splintering at the impact.

his two classmates give him a look before shoko asks again, a mild disbelief to her tone, "you really don't find anything new about him? like, maybe he has grown taller? or maybe, more handsome?"

"anything else which you never even expected, maybe?" suguru pipes in from beside him. gojo shoots him a grateful look, all past offenses already forgiven and forgotten.

a beat passes before you shake your head. "nope. nothing about him is new. though, when you speak about unexpected..." you trail off with a contemplative look.

shoko encourages you, "when we speak about unexpected-"

"i never expected you to be so pretty," you finish the sentence for her with a small smile. gojo's jaw drops to the ground. okay, what the fu-

"oh," shooting him an amused smirk, shoko faces you. "and why is it so? why did you not expect me to be so pretty?"

"it's not my fault," you reply, sending him an accusatory glance as you continue, "when i asked 'toru if his new classmates are good-looking, he said they aren't. he said you all look really plain."

"do you find me plain or handsome?" suguru butts in, ignoring the blue-eyed glare boring holes into the side of his head.

"you're plain," the short reply comes in an instant from you - and even in the midst of his gloom for going unnoticed, gojo finds it within himself to smirk at his best friend's withered face.

in the meantime, you continue speaking to shoko, unperturbed.

"yeah, so imagine my surprise when i met you at the torii gates earlier today. with such a stylish bobcut, cute face and flawless skin... i really thought you were a model, ieiri-senpai."

you pause for a second - undoubtedly to catch your breath from that non-stop chatter; gojo knows your habits like his own by now - then ask the girl who's watching you with a pleased expression, an excited grin threatening to bloom on your face, "are you a model, senpai?"

said senpai lets out a chuckle in response.

and despite feeling dispirited (and very, very jealous of that shoko for hogging all your attention), the white-haired boy cracks a fond smile, watching you be so cheery.

yeah, you certainly are one very dense dumbass.

but, he too is gojo satoru - and he will get his feelings across to you.

|2/6| display your strengths.

being a show-off is what gojo's the best at - besides yearning for you from afar, that is.

a wide grin stays on his face as he watches you approach him, a tad ahead of your classmates - two boys, nanami kento and haibara yu.

being in the first year, neither of you three can take part in the kyoto sister-school goodwill event - that doesn't stop you all from being spectators, though - which is what's enough for the gojo's plans.

a call of his name drags him away from gazing at you - you look good in that tee of his, you accidentally shrunk in the laundry - and twists back to find his teacher frowning at him.

the second-year finds it hard to wear the same grin. "yo yaga sensei, what's up?"

the man lets out a long-drawn sigh.

"don't overdo it, satoru," he says - the boy opens his mouth, ready to retort with a quip - only to be stopped by an unfamiliar expression overcoming the teacher's features.

it's a horrific insult of a smile, the young sorcerer realizes after a beat.

yaga, meanwhile, continues with that same expression, "i too was young once. i can understand what you're going through now - which is why i won't stop you from showing your talents to her or whatever. just... remember no one should die."

a quiet nod is all the boy manages in reply, too overwhelmed for a bit by the fatherly care yaga insists on giving him despite the annoyance suguru and he equally insist on being to their sensei.

with a pat on the shoulder, yaga leaves in the direction of the other faculty and staff. schooling his expression, gojo shoots suguru a look.

"hey suguru, how did yaga get to know about me and her?"

"who is her, gojo senpai?" a sweet voice chips in, soon followed by your teasing grin floating into his line of vision.

the boy averts his gaze for a beat - flustered by the sheer proximity between both of your faces which could be closed were he not such a coward, stop smirking, suguru - before sending you a wounded look.

"since when did i become gojo senpai to you?"

"since today," you reply with a tight smile. gojo doesn't like it one bit on your face. "i've been asked by the higher-ups to act professional with you."

a moment passes - wherein the boy registers the statement - before red flashes in his vision. placing his hands on your shoulders, he asks, or rather, demands to know, "did they hurt you? or threaten you? give me their names. who were those fucking bastards?"

brows furrowing, you place your much smaller hands atop his. "relax. nothing happened," you whisper, so quiet only he can hear it, "they don't have the guts or power to hurt or threaten me. all they told me is to, i quote, refrain from calling you such terms of endearment again. and i was like, okay."

a small smile settles on your lips as you take his hands in yours and start rubbing circles into them. the boy feels a lot of his tension drain away. smile brightening (you too seem to have realized the effects of this gesture on him), you add, "plus, it's only four years. once we've both graduated, i can get back to calling you whatever i want to call. those old geezers can't direct me then."

"they still can't now..." gojo begins - then stops.

with that bootlicker eldest brother you have, those old rats can now.

you give him a tired smile, words unneeded to confirm that the both of you are indeed cursing the same set of people now.

you open your mouth to say something - funny probably, if the shine in your eyes was anything to go by - before a muted cough pops the bubble you two had unconsciously slipped into.

and with an entertained smirk at the boy, who immediately seperates your linked hands, shoko informs, "sensei's calling for you, gojo. the competition's about to begin."

acknowledging her with a brief nod, gojo returns his focus to you, looking for a sliver of fear or anxiety in your face - one he'll soothe away with a gentle smile and maybe, just maybe, a forehead kiss - only for all his dreams to be dashed in the dirt.

you're peering up at him, beaming excitedly.

"go, beat 'em, senpai," you cheer him with a fist pump. an amused snicker sounds somewhere behind. your zeal doesn't budge one bit. "go, kick those kyoto students' asses. i know you will win."

and win, your white-haired senpai does - nothing new it it.

and you too seem to be very happy at it - again nothing new in it.

'cause when do you not congratulate him with a blinding beam every time the boy is successful - be it at making those pretty origami stars the way you taught him to; or at defeating a weakass sorcerer in a lame match.

however what is new is the fact you've grown rather competitive - not that gojo minds it in the slightest, though. quite the contrary, in fact.

"aren't you being a little too confident?" you inquire, throwing him a peeved glance, "every opponent you face in the future won't be as weak as those two kyoto boys today. you sure you'll stay invincible then too?"

resting his chin on the chair he is straddling, the second-year smirks, "any way you can prove i won't, shortie?"

geto sends him a questioning look while ieiri looks away from them to the scenery outside, giving a long sigh. his other two kouhais, nanami and haibara, pause in their game of cards to look at you, confusedly.

gojo observes you ignore them, eyes trained on him only, lips curving slowly into a sharp grin. gods, can you get any lovelier than this?

"well..." you drawl, keeping your focus on him. a flush creeps up the sides of his neck, which he earnestly hopes goes overlooked by you.

it doesn't go overlooked by your too-serious classmate, though - gojo spots nanami's eyes widen for a mere instant before reverting to their typical indifference.

you continue, grin simmering to a daring smile now, "why don't you find it out on your own tomorrow? twelve noon. practice field. what do you think, senpai?"

the sorcerer pretends to take a moment to regard your proposal, then shrugs. "sure, why not? sounds good enough to me."

with a wordless nod, the boy watches you return to the video game you were playing with his best friend - then look back at him on your name being called. an eyebrow rises in silent question.

seeing that the cue, he asks, "but what will the loser have to do?"

the reply comes with a smirk, your eyes dropping to your game. "you can buy me the latest version of this game. that'll be fine, i guess."

gojo was wrong - said person realizes as he watches the orange-red glow seep in through the window and render you an ethereal glow.

your competitiveness isn't the only thing new to him this evening.

your ability to make him even more head over heels for you than the boy already is (an impossible feat, really, given the chains and locks guarding him within, apart from the layer of infinity without)...

...this is yet another new thing gojo learns about you, this evening.

|3/6| gather info on your crush.

"oh, you wouldn't want to be friends with her."

the comment cuts through the air with a noisy chuckle and a raucous chorus of giggles - gojo's knuckles grow white with the painfully tight grip he has on the glass of mocktail.

suguru shoots him a contrite face from the other side of the crowd, mouthing an apology with a helpless shrug. the boy looks away from his best friend to throw a glance at the two girls a few seats away.

a beat passes wherein shoko and utahime share a brief look, and the former speaks up, an odd edge to her voice as she leans forwards, a smirk directed at the boy. "and why wouldn't geto? she seems like a pretty nice girl to be friends with."

your cousin scoffs. gojo seriously wishes there wasn't a strict rule set by his father for the clan members of not meddling in the other clans' matters, to maintain an image of neutrality and amiability.

(it's not like he prefers not to break rules or is afraid of his father, the boy thinks grimly as he gulps the last sip of his mocktail and returns the glass to the table with a thud. it's far from being either of those.

it's just that with a small response from him in this matter, you will be dragged under the elders' scrutiny; your friendship with him too will be - and that's something he would never wish upon you. so the boy stays quiet, opting to-)

"what the fuck did you just say?"

the chitter-chatter dies down to a deathly silence in an instant.

rising from his seat, gojo stalks towards the boy sitting on the couch. from the background, he can hear few voices urge him to stop, to get back, with repeated 'satoru, no' and 'satoru, relax' - but the boy finds not a cell in his body wanting to heed those voices. marching right up to your cousin, who shoots him a pathetically fake smirk now, the boy repeats himself, "what. did. you. just. say."

the target of the query huffs a chuckle, drunk and stinking - and your friend realizes now just how much of a diluted description of him you gave him the other day. the guy isn't just some petty irritating relative of yours, he is a fucking bastard.

a fucking bastard who's going to get beaten into a pulp, if he doesn't choose his next words wisely.

another chuckle leaves him, before he gets up from his seat, a slight sway to the action as he sneers at gojo. now, were the circumstances different, the white-haired boy is sure such a brazen person would've impressed him, who is the strongest sorcerer there is, but not today.

not when you're the one who is the innocent undeserving recipient of such a remark as the one he utters next.

"i just said, my cousin's a freak who can read someone's mind without them knowing - and she does that all the time for her sick enjoyment. no one can ever trust that bitch."

a fist connects with the side of your cousin's face and before anyone can realize what's happening, the two boys are rolling on the floor in a brawl, gojo obviously with the upper hand as he lands blow after blow and yell after yell on the other.

a quiet voice whispers to his conscience, chiding his response to the situation to be too harsh, too cruel - but no sooner does it appear than it is stomped down and shoved away by images from the past.

images of a little girl crying, yelling, screaming, eyes squeezed shut, how everything's so loud, how everyone's so noisy, how everyone just can't seem to stop talking of her - in the shocked silence of the party hall.

images of being informed over the phone, his friend won't be coming to play today either - for a class or a function or a cold, he cares the least for - before overhearing later at dinner, it's the fifth day the girl's been comatose since her last treatment.

images of brash celebrations revelling in the discovery and return of a technique, long thought lost - the new messiah, they exclaim - while the said person looks at the elders with face steeped in what, the boy doesn't need his six eyes to know, is terror.

images of a girl, saying in a surprisingly void tone, how horrible, how terrible, how despicable a weapon they've made her into - sneaking into people's minds to steal the meaning of their lives away - before giving a suggestion, too smart, too sharp for a girl of ten; although-

"satoru!"

the singular word snaps the sorcerer's thoughts into two, making him move his irate gaze away from the bloodied face of the bitch to the door-

oh.

it's you.

you, standing in the school uniform, a bag slung over your shoulders.

you, eyes round and lips parted as you stare at the scene before.

you, who takes only a second before you rush forwards, moving him away from your cousin, worried gaze raking over his features instead of the bruised wailing mess of a relative left behind.

"'toru," the word escapes you in a whisper as you maneuver him into sitting on the couch.

another voice wafts over to him, a lot like suguru's, but he pays it no mind, wanting to focus on you and you only, while your fingers travel over his face, brush his bangs away, tuck them behind the shell of his ear, then finally come to a rest on the apple of his cheeks, the grazing of the thumb soothing a minor cut.

though the way your eyebrows furrow at it, emotions darting across your face a million a second, from confusion to concern to anger - gojo reckons, were anyone to see you now, they would think it ain't a tiny nick but a gaping wound.

the white-haired boy grasps your wrist in his fingers.

"i'm okay, shortie," the second-year reassures you in a whisper. you peer at him closely in turn for a beat longer, before a long sigh leaves you though the frown on your lips stays the same. he would've called you cute if not for the murderous intent rolling off you in waves...

gojo decides to call you hot now.

a seething gaze with a soft "what happened, 'toru?" reaches him next.

oh yes, gojo swoons inwardly, you're being so fucking hot.

nuzzling into the palm cradling his cheek, the boy smiles. "nothing you need to worry about."

"it's your cousin," a female voice butts in before a known pair of heads walk into his vision, one smoking a cigarette while the other looks at him then you, mildly stunned.

shoko continues, as laidback as ever (as if she too wasn't glowering then), "suguru there asked him something about you to which the pig replied with some nonsense, because of which satoru here jumped in to defend your honour." your eyes travel from her to him. a whoosh of air leaves the girl and she takes a long drag from a cigarette. "nothing very serious, to be honest..."

"but nothing too unserious either," utahime adds, which earns a small nod from her girlfriend, "if the asshole dares to lie about you once-"

"what's to say he won't again," you finish the sentence for her, a dark shadow looming over your face, then throw the culprit a harsh look. "and what shit did you spout, mr. resident douchebag of the clan?"

a corner of gojo's lips quirk up at the nickname you gave, then part in a grin at the reaction your cousin gave to that. embarassed, for sure, yet never going farther than glaring at you from those swollen eyes.

if you weren't standing here, caressing his face, your friend's certain, he would have gone to tear him a new one - the latter still scowling at you whilst intermittently yelping at the pain of his wounds.

a long sigh escapes you, visibly tired and annoyed.

"i know you can hear me just fine by that stink eye you're giving me, so fess up now - what the fuck were you telling about me?"

an absolute silence answers your question, and just when gojo thinks he might have to leave your warm cocoon to go beat your cousin up, again, suguru's voice sounds from beside, "he was talking about your CT."

"oh?" a brow rises. "and what about it?"

"apparently - and i quote," the long-haired boy adds with palms raised and faced forwards, at the scowl he shoots him, "you can read others' minds without their knowledge, and you do that always. for fun, your cousin claims."

you blink, and turn to your relative; a mask, gojo observes with a hint of melancholy, slipping over your features - not that the boy blames you, though. you need a mask - now, most of all times.

"you said that, aniki?" you inquire, the caressing hand over gojo's skin stilling with a slight tremor. he envelopes your hand in his; an action you respond to with a squeeze, continuing, "but why did you? after all that happened, after all that everyone in the family knows, why?"

a stubborn scoff sounds from the other end of the room; one of the six eyes twitches in its socket.

"i don't think you should ask this question, shortie," the second-year hums, pulling a nonplussed face from you. he grins, "you can simply read his mind, no? your aniki won't be forced to give a reply; your ask too will be answered. besides, this isn't gonna be the first time you're breaking into someone's mind, and, your cousin's not even gonna feel his mind being read - a painless procedure - isn't that right, aniki?"

"fuck no!!!!"

and bingo!

gojo watches you cast a long look at him, then back at your cousin, before a slow smile spreads on your features, the glint so dear to him making a comeback in your eyes.

"not a bad idea, senpai," you say, lifting your free hand and directing it at the culprit. a few gasps sound around you, soon followed by a few murmurs - your senpai watches them slide off your skin like water off a duck's back. you announce in a sing-song fashion, "well, here goes nothing~"

then stop at the anguished cry, your smile widening into a grin.

sweet and smug, like the cat who got the canary.

gojo feels three pairs of eyes look at his smirk, all at the same time - the boy lets them look. the two of you share dynamics, the nature of which none, except you two, can ever dream of comprehending.

wailing, your cousin rises and stumbles over to you, hands folded in a pleading gesture.

"please, no, no, no," he sobs, very nearly falling at your feet before you take a step backwards, disgust overtaking your grin, sending the boy reeling back. "i beg you, no. please don't kill me. i was just kidding; it was just a joke. i'm sorry, don't kill me."

"kill you?" you let out a shocked gasp, placing a hand over your chest, "i would never. i was just trying to read your mind, aniki. why on earth would that kill you? you won't even feel anything-"

"it's the binding vow, you bitch!!" the boy spits, interrupting you, "the one you took years back, 'cause you didn't want the higher-ups to use you as a spy again; giving up the element of secrecy of your CT to-"

your cousin pauses, the realization and the ensuing horror and regret dawning over his face; gojo presses him, sharing a smile with you.

"to?"

the answer arrives as a shuddered whisper - a whisper audible to all, however, thanks to the heavy silence in the room.

"to make it lethal on its victim instead; an attack none can stop, not even a special-grade."

the crash of a glass, or five, impacting with the ground sounds; you give a satisfied nod, smirking.

gojo runs a palm over your dishevelled hair, undoubtedly from driving with the windows down to this stupid meet of the teenagers from the jujutsu clans. you give him a smile, mouth opening to say something, but he doesn't let you. "don't thank me, stupid."

"okay," you acquiesce, a slight huff to your tone before it grows softer, "but can i at least say you were being very cool then? i'm impressed."

"who's impressed with whom?" a crass voice interrupts the moment before gojo can even form it entirely between the two of you.

three - nope, five (even your classmates are here, tch!) teasing smiles float into his vision; the second-year opens his mouth to throw back a retort - except you snatch the opportunity away from him.

"i'm impressed with gojo senpai- any problems, anyone?" you say, tilting your head to one side with the cutest little furrow in the midst of your brows. all five shake their heads, smiles widening before one of them falls on your next words.

"but the next time i see you, geto senpai, asking others what sort of a person i am - don't you dare deny it, you asked two of my friends too the same thing, they told me; god knows why you need my character certificate, though, and for whom; you're acting as if you've a sibling i wish to date and you wanna know everything about me before giving the green signal, but whatever it is, senpai-"

you heave a breath, a break from your tirade - while the remainder of the room's breathing stays suspended.

gojo glances away from you to find the attention of all the attendees fixed on you. he wraps an arm around your midsection and rests his chin on your shoulder. you lean the side of your head onto his.

"i promise i'll create problems for you, more if i see gojo senpai being dragged into the aftermath of your curiosity - okay?"

gojo watches his best friend look at you, terrified, for a second before turning to throw him a glare. the white-haired boy bites back a grin.

placing hands on his hips, suguru exclaims, "you know what, i tried to help but no one here is worthy of my assistance."

"no one asked you for this help, suguru," shoko interjects smoothly, "you were the one who insisted, something about this method being the most effective or something if they want to catch her attention-"

"whoa, whoa, whoa. who wants to catch my attention?" you inquire, cutting them two off. gojo's classmates stop and the blood flowing in his veins drops to a subzero as he cranes his neck to look at you.

you twist to look back at him. "is there someone who wants to catch my attention? do you know them?"

"i-uh-um," the boy stutters, mind scrambling for a reply - something, anything - before nanami interrupts, a small smile on his face, "yeah, there is someone, actually, and we all know him. geto senpai was just gathering some data on you as his wingman."

"oh," you mutter, gaze dropping to the ground, then lifting to gojo. the boy simply blinks back, which draws a frown from you in turn.

retrieving a pair of shades from your bag, you hand it to him and turn back to suguru, a barely-there smile on your lips.

"next time he wants some info on me, ask him to ask me directly. i'll appreciate it."

"noted, boss," the words escape gojo before the addressed can even reply, utterly unmoved by the five exasperated glares [honestly, it's four: haibara can never really glare at anyone] - the next step of the plan already whirring to life in the shades-donning boy's brain.

so, so giddy at the fact of being told of the golden key to your heart.

|4/6| gather info from your crush.

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"so are you."

a long minute passes between gojo and you, gazes fixed on the other person and only them, before you lick your chapped lips - the boy's attention instantly going to that hynotic motion of your tongue...

and you pinch his arm.

"ow shortie!!!! what the fuck was that for!?!?" the boy yells, massaging the sore spot on his arm, before out of nowhere, the red signal glows green and he has to shift his focus to the steering wheel.

you toss him a mad scowl from the passenger's seat, one he catches effortlessly, winking, when an observation crashes upon him and he coos. "aww, did my itty-bitty-shortie-baby just get flustered by me? aww, is she blushing? aww, she's so cute!!!"

"i asked you to help me learn how to confess, gojo," you grumble with a glare at him, "not make fun of me."

your co-passenger makes an affronted face at your words, although, internally, he is beside himself. and to be honest, how can he not?

you're in the same car as him, on a three hour long drive from tokyo to nikko, exchanging declarations of love with one another while the boy's (spare) shades slide down the bridge of your nose and he hums along to the songs you choose on the stereo... if a few facts are being ignored (like the one where this is your mission and the two of you are in your uniforms), the second-year can totally imagine the two of you going on a weekend getaway as a couple now.

a soft smile settles on his lips, as he sneaks a glance of you from the corner of his eyes. "i wasn't trying to make fun of ya, shortie," he says, "i was just responding to your statement."

"but that directly?" you ask, shock and embarrassment flooding your face. your friend stifles a chuckle. "i commented on the moon being beautiful. you should've said something like 'it is, isn't it?' - but no, you went and replied, 'so are you'. my admirer will never be so direct with me; why don't you try to understand that simple fact?"

there are a few days when gojo is really divided between wanting to flick your forehead hard and wanting to kiss you senseless.

today seems to be one such glorious day.

swerving the car onto a stop by the side of the road, he lets his head fall onto the steering wheel and lifts it to lock his eyes with yours.

"and what makes you think your admirer won't be a direct guy?"

"the fact the guy couldn't even show his face to me once, and did not even want to share his contact details with me, despite me pestering him via suguru and nanami, for ages now."

okay, ouch, that one's on him.

yet, never being the one to accept defeat, he throws back, "and what if he wants to build up some mystery before your first meet? you love mysteries, don't you? the guy likes you; he must be trying to use that knowledge to confess to you."

"i like only murder mysteries, 'toru," your deadpan response arrives in a beat, which then evolves into curiosity when you ask, "but how do you know so much about these things? how many relationships have you been in, 'toru?"

it's gojo's turn to grow embarrassed now. hand reaching out to fiddle with the bracelet on your wrist, he answers, "zero."

"hey, don't be embarrassed," he watches you shoot him a grin. a tiny smile is all he manages to return while you continue, "i too have never been in a relationship. anyone you ever confessed to?"

"isn't that evident from my previous answer?"

"nope! you might've gotten rejected; who knows~"

the grin on your lips widens; gojo looks at it for once before dropping his gaze. under the interplay of the light and shadow from the leaves of the tree, there appears to be something different about you - the sorcerer can't really pinpoint what it is but he knows there is, and he doesn't want to dwell on it - lest he loses his self-control.

"i have never confessed to anyone, and whatever confessions i have received, i've either ignored or rejected them all."

"ooh, same!" your excited voice ringing within the confines of the car, you lift his palm to meet yours in a hi-five. gojo lets you do so - before you place it between your two palms and clasp it, a sharp gasp drawn from him at the action. you shoot him a concerned look.

"your hand's freezing cold, 'toru? you okay?"

"yeah, yeah, i'm fine," the boy mumbles, moving his hand away from your comforting warmth - an action he doesn't want to do but has to, for the sake of propriety. something happening out of sheer impulse isn't how he wants to start his story with you - you don't deserve that.

"um, okay," you mutter, then inquire, timid and awkward, "i've one last question on your love life... can i ask that? you can totally ask me to stop though if you're feeling uncomfortable."

"ask away," the boy answers with a smile, he can see, is tense in the mirror as he restarts the car and returns it to the road. a long second passes before you ask, "have you ever liked anyone, 'toru?"

"yeah... there's one girl. i love her."

"oh."

the monosyllabic answer sends a torsion through his chest and gojo twists towards you - only to find a cryptic smile resting on your lips.

discarding your shoes, you fold your knees upto your chest and rest your head atop them, facing him. your senpai is really thankful a soft song comes onto the stereo next, for were it not so, he's certain your soft question would have gone unheard.

"how does your first love feel? beautiful, right? the way it's in books, songs and movies... isn't it?"

gojo takes a moment to mull over your query.

it is... yet it isn't.

the flutters in his heart when you skip past him in the corridors with a beam; the butterflies in his stomach when you plop on the chair next to him in the cafeteria; the dizziness in his head when your face is too close to his; the utterly-unplatonic thoughts of you plaguing him, day and night, dusk and dawn...

the fictional works sure have got this aspect of love right.

but they aren't right in so many other aspects of it.

falling in love with you isn't love-on-first-crash nor is it from a magical transformation in one of you nor is it after ages and ages of ignorance and denial and the final mind-numbing feeling that oh shit! you're the one for him; always have been; the girls with whom he's been till now are mere mirages of you; but it's too late now... you're moving abroad on a flight in two hours, with a boyfriend who's far better than him.

no.

the goggles-wearing sorcerer's catching feelings for you is way more realistic and easier to digest than that.

the two of you are friends, friends, friends - until the morning the two of you are munching on an ice cream tub, and with a casual glance at you, the boy muses what he feels for you is weird, not like his feelings for his other friends - and after a month's worth research, reaches the conclusion of him being in love with you.

quick. direct. smart.

just like the heir of the gojo clan himself.

a small smile lining his lips on this short trip down the memory lane, your senpai hums, "it's complicated. you'll understand when you have your first love."

a soft sigh is the only response you give and gojo reaches over to give a small knock to the side of your head. "don't overthink, shortie," the boy says in a fond tone, a feeling which expands within himself at the smile you offer him, "everything's gonna be okay; i'll personally make sure it is."

"oh, yeah?" a brow rises while your eyes crinkle in a cheeky grin. "and how exactly do you plan on doing that? you gonna have a serious talk with my admirer or something, before our first date?"

if talks in the mirror over the bathroom sink counts, the white-haired boy has had countless discussions so far - but he doesn't tell you that - choosing to return your question with a question of his own.

one which has been pestering him for a while now.

"but, shortie... why the hell are you practising-"

"to confess now?" stealing his words from the tip of his tongue, gojo watches you let out a long tired exhale, then slump back in your seat, a hint of a smile on your lips. flying strands of your hair, from the wind rushing in through the open window, form a halo around your head-

your friend thinks you are an angel descended from above, no matter how you look.

a titter breaks his enraptured gaze on you, and he blinks, finding you with a tiny curve of your lips. you continue, "i wanna stay prepared. if not for this date, then another. if not for this guy, then another. but the thing is, i wanna stay prepared. for love and for everything that comes with it - besides..." your smile grows bashful, an emotion gojo instantly realizes is impossible for him to get tired of seeing on you; you shrug.

"the heart does what it wants, does it not?"

really??

the young sorcerer looks away from you for a beat, letting his gaze travel over the rows of trees dotting the increasingly mountainous terrain, then looks back at you.

the two of you are awfully close to the destination of your trip.

removing a hand from the wheel and reaching it out to intertwine his fingers with yours, the boy asks, "wanna go visit that patisserie i was talking of the other day after this mission? i've heard the sweets there are worth dying for."

"but won't it be late evening by the time our job's done?" you ask back with a frown, "and we also have to return to the school... why don't-"

"it's a full moon tonight, shortie," gojo interjects you with a soft little smile. you stare befuddled at him for a while, before the bulb lights to life in your brain - an event bringing a semblance of relief to the boy - and you laugh.

"oh, oh, oh!" you exclaim, waggling your eyebrows, "i know exactly what you're going to do. you're gonna create a romantic atmosphere to teach me how to confess, aren't you? method teaching - eh, 'toru?"

a chuckle is what gojo decides to offer to your buzzing curiosity, until later this evening.

"i'll let my heart do what it wants to do."

|5/6| splurge on gifts.

"and what can this be?"

the silver of the bracelet glints, the tiny sapphires in its rim adding a sparkling effect as you show it to gojo. the boy drags his gaze from it to you, lips pressing into a line as he takes in the way you're looking at him.

two months back, if someone even merely insinuated at the fact you might be growing distant from him, he wouldn't have thought once before retaliating with a mean word or hit.

and, to be just, why on earth would he not?

yes, the 'date' he had proposed to take you on post mission remained just a proposal - many thanks to the old geezers and their knack for providing severely understated mission details [bitter sarcasm wholly intended] - but that didn't drive a wedge between you both; quite the opposite, in fact.

two months back, he found you sobbing at his bedside in the school infirmary, lips pressing kisses to his bruised knuckles time and again, while you kept mumbling on how you should've been more wary and cognizant of your surroundings, how he shouldn't have switched his infinity off to guard you from the caving roof and how you would buy him a milion sweets if he promised to not be reckless, but wouldn't hesitate to kill him with your CT if he broke the promise even once.

lovingly overprotective in an irresistibly cute way - that's exactly how you grew to be around gojo in the days he was healing, in the latter's eyes. suguru and shoko's comments too grew less teasing and more encouraging with time then - something which made him think, the feelings in his being might not be as one-sided as he tends to believe at times.

something which made him think, there might not be a day he has to imagine without your radiant grin directed at him, for him, because of him.

yet, now... as he regards you with utmost attention...

the sorcerer can't help but deem the unimaginable to have occurred.

face grim, eyes dull, lips puckered into a scowl, every fucking time you've come across him since your return to school from your home...

it doesn't really take a genius to gather you don't really want to be in his vicinity - a realisation which leads to your best friend of a decade and a few years to shower a torrent of gifts on you.

under the impression, that's what will return your keen undivided gaze to him - an impression, he watches, being tainted wrong with every other second that passes under the fading daylight.

you return the bracelet to its box and place it in the bag, one the boy knows contains the other gifts he had left at your doorstep or sent via shoko or haibara to you, the past month - and one you intend to give him back - 'cause for what else could you have asked to meet him at the training grounds this evening, carrying the bag, if not this?

wishing, not for the first time, for his six eyes to be able to glean your current state of mind, he asks, scooting slowly, deliberately to your seated form on the bench, "did you not like it, shor-"

"please don't call me that."

the grin slowly unfurling on gojo's lips stutters, then vanishes in the heat of the fury of your eyes. he watches your gaze roam over his face once before skittering away. your voice grows a mild tremor, "please don't call me that. i don't want to hear that nickname ever again."

the soda can nearly slips from between his fingers onto the grass below before he grasps it again, firmer this time, and tosses it upside down to empty it into his mouth. it's a brand you had introduced him to, gojo reminisces, on a day just like this... grins and squeals as you jumped in front of the vending machine, so, so joyed that it had your favourite drink.

soon after, it became the white-haired boy's favourite drink too - but no longer now. not when the fruity tang of the liquid, which endeared it to you as you claimed, tastes like the metallic clang of blood to him.

now, many might call gojo overdramatic here - you've asked him not to call you that countless times now, for fuck's sake - but many don't know you the way your friend does. in horrifying contrast to before, a note of revulsion exists in your words.

undisguised disgust paired with loathing.

sharp enough to pierce infinity, past skin, muscles, ribs and layers of tissues and chains, into that stupid organ strumming melancholic rhythms now, your name bleeding raw from its walls.

superfluous, some might scoff - but they'll have never known there's a dark side to love, the one gojo's traversing now. though... the young sorcerer muses, finishing the drink and sending it into the trash can with a flick of his cursed energy, they'll never have known you. they'll never have known the degree to which the boy adores you, either.

a strong whoosh of wind hits the two of you, carrying the smell of wet earth with it. a sign of the arrival of your favourite season, your friend absently notes as he looks back at you.

the tip of your nose appears flushed red.

"and may i know why?"

shock brims your gaze at the soft question. gojo watches you cough up a strained chuckle. "i knew you to be more assertive. demanding. never thought you could request for an explanation... what changed, 'to-" you still for a beat, then continue, burning another bridge, same as the boy feared an instant too early, "i mean, gojo-senpai?"

"you're the best person to answer that," the mentioned person replies with lips forming a gentle curve. yes, the limitless user's always been one hell of a self-assured person - it comes free with the package of receiving god-like treatment by most from before you can crawl - but there exist times when all that - the fight, the zeal, the energy - every one of those just ebbs away from his body, rendering him the hapless spectator, and victim, to the car crash.

except a car crash might hurt less than the careless sneer you shoot his way, coupled with an eye roll. you never gave him such a look in the past, before you went back home for the vacation. just what-

"i think you know why i called you here, yeah?" you ask, picking the bag up and pushing it towards him. the things inside it rattle; the boy wonders if you even went through those two books he sent you. they were from the series you had babbled, ranted and gushed to him on for hours on end on numerous occasions, once upon a time.

gojo nods briefly, though doesn't spare it even a glance. it doesn't go past your notice, he notes, given the way your eyes jump from him to his gifts, then to your fiddling fingers. "well, that's one box ticked off," you say, "and as for the other-"

"i know that too; you need not say every fucking thing out loud," your senpai cuts you off with a mirthless inflection to his tone, eyes falling down onto his sneakers. it was a gift from you on his last-

bloody hell, why does everything have to be a sore reminder of you?

"not saying it out loud doesn't make it any less real," your quiet voice tears through his thought, and he looks up. hoping, desperately so, a tender smile is waiting on your features, reserved for him - only to see every hope of his get dashed into the dirt by your frown.

his best friend was right. gojo's pathetically down for you.

a thunder rumbles in the distance.

you continue, "but since you've asked me not to, i guess i won't. that's the least i can do-"

"but what went wrong?" the question hurtles past the confines of his mouth into the stormy air. and, for once, gojo decides not to conceal the moisture in his eyes behind his shades. removing the eyewear, he moves to sit right beside you, approaching to take your hand in his.

you jerk away from him.

as if you were fire and he, water.

as if you were sun and he, non-luminous scarred moon threatening to eclipse your joy.

the white-haired boy retracts his hand away. you glance at him once before averting your gaze away. he watches you clench your hands in a tight fist. "nothing was wrong, senpai," you mumble; gojo bites his lower lip to keep it from wobbling, "but there's always something tiny wrong in everything going right, ya know? i just feel we outgrew our phase of being friends."

the growl of thunder sounds closer this time. a drop of water lands on his thigh - the sorcerer doesn't bother to know if it is his eyes or those clouds above which finally welled over. voice thickening and breaking, a scoff leaves him, "you know, as well as me, that's the lamest excuse ever. and you called us being friends, right?" you take a moment then nod weakly. a pained sigh leaves him, "then what happened to being open with each other, hm? i thought we kept no secrets from each other."

the boy watches you keep your gaze stubbornly trained on the grass beneath. something within him breaks.

"c'mon, don't play dumb," gojo urges, plopping down onto the object of your attention, just so he can have a better view of your face. you face away with a frown. he prompts you again, hints of helplessness sneaking in between his words, "c'mon, shortie. don't look away with the shitty reason of us outgrowing our phase of friendship. we were - no, are the closest. you know, right? that you can tell me any-"

"not everything's meant to remain the same always, senpai!" the loud exclamation leaves your mouth. gojo stills and so do you. his eyes fall on the way you wring your hands once before stuffing them into your hoodie's pockets.

it isn't oversized on you, the realisation clicks into place in his mind.

you let out an exhale through your mouth, then pin him down with eyes teeming with what seems like weary distaste.

"can you please get up? you're creating an unnecessary scene right now."

if your words weren't enough, it's the way you utter them that leaves cracks and fissures in him. one more blow, and the boy's sure he'll be blown away into smithereens - an outcome he's trying to avoid [but knows, can't; every piece of armour he dons turns flimsy before you].

"is it 'cause you tended to my injuries then?" he asks. your lips strain into a line. casting him a sideways glance, you shake your head, "i'm many things but a liar ain't in the list, senpai. when i cared for you, it was from my heart. when i no longer wanna associate with you-"

a dark shadow falls over your features. rising from the bench, you shift your gaze skywards and back on him, "it'll rain pretty soon. you should get back inside."

there's something between summer evenings and you and him, gojo muses as he peers up at you.

it was a summer evening when you first came to visit the boy at this school.

it is a summer evening when you're turning your back on him in this same old school.

with the glaring exception of there being the warmth of your form beside him then versus the gnawing chill you're leaving behind now.

"you never completed your sentence," gojo points out, whispering.

[too loud and the sorcerer fears, the last interaction between the two of you will end as a horrid yelling match. besides, you like things with happy endings, don't you? he'll be sure to give you your happy ending as the last gift.]

you send a restrained twitch of lips his way. "i remember being asked not to say every fucking thing out loud, senpai."

a shaky smile is the only thing he finds he can muster in return, at the moment.

"suguru said you're leaving for your home tonight again," the student says, getting up from the ground and moving closer to, yet too far a distance from you. "don't drive with the windows down, okay? the weather's bad, you might catch a cold."

a muscle in your jaw twitches. the valley between your brows furrows.

gojo lets his smile widen a bit. so shallow. so hollow.

"don't worry," he says, "i'm taking this as seriously as you want me to. it's just that..." trailing off, the boy takes a step away. your feet move an inch towards him before you immediately withdraw them. a small mimicry of a laugh leaving him, gojo fixates his gaze on the iridescent colour of your irises.

"i've always seen you as someone way more than a mere childhood friend, y'know? and no matter what you say or do, i can never and will never stop seeing you the same way. i love you that much, short- oh! sorry, i'm not supposed to call you that, am i?."

a beat passes, then another, and another.

your response comes out as a garbled mess of letters and tears. "you're the worst person ever, 'toru. i hate you."

and with that and not another glance wasted anywhere, you whirl on your feet and dash back to the school.

leaving behind the echo of your words ringing in gojo's ears, louder than the thunder of the lightning crashing on a tree a little away.

|6/6| this isn't really a way. if you're at this step, just fuckin' stop and retreat. your crush won't ever notice you – you sad, pathetic loser.

"is that what you really think?"

gojo wonders if a momentous occasion as the one now deserves one brawl thrown into it or not. it won't be anything much; just dumping a bowl of soup down suguru's shirt and/or landing a pretty solid kick to his stomach and/or-

"careful, senpai or you might've to go home, bloody and beaten," the most monotone voice ever possible crashes into his thoughts in the worst possible way. a snicker, far too familiar, joins in. "yeah, nanami's right. besides, we haven't even clicked a pic yet. you wouldn't want to wear a black eye in it, would you?"

clinking his glass with shoko's, the white-haired watches suguru gulp down a shot of tequila, then give a mighty firm shake of his head. "no, of-fucking-course not. today is our dearest kouhai's important day; i don't wanna get involved in any drama now; though..." trailing off, the black-haired boy shoots gojo an awfully obvious side-glance before a look shared with the others.

the boy lets his eyes wander away from them. an abominably sharp acrylic nail pokes him in the cheek. gojo exhales a sigh, so exhausted.

were it just a day, the boy's certain to the hell and back, that he would have whipped up a snarky insult to the stink-eye aimed his way. the boy would have slapped his drunk classmate's hand away, calling her sense of fashion the worst names possible.

gojo, however, decides to resort to neither today. he decides to settle for a sigh - the second in the last minute, longer and wearier than the one before - and rests his face into the hollow of his palms, screwing eyes shut.

an exasperated grumble - or two, maybe - permeates the air.

"gojo senpai," the words ring out in a tone far too soft and worried. he muses he doesn't need to look to see the sympathetic frown haibara must be wearing, nor the varying degrees of pity and concern etched into the others' features. a warm hand squeezes his shoulder slightly.

haibara continues, "geto senpai is not entirely wrong, y'know? yes, of course, implying you might kick up drama is sorta wrong, i admit so. but otherwise... you could've tried to, i don't know, somehow find out the reason behind her sudden distance from you?"

opening his eyes, gojo twists to face his kouhai, ready to interrupt him, but stops at the earnestness in his gaze. "turning into a recluse or moping around isn't gonna solve anything, senpai. it's been more than a month since then and from what little i've seen, i can say it's eating the both of you alive. you, way more than her. so, go, speak with her," he urges him with a smile, "the others are not very well at showing their emotions but trust me when i say, we all are worried for you both, senpai."

the white-haired boy drags his gaze away from the speaker. suguru gives him a smile, shoko pokes him in the cheek again, nanami offers a fleeting impression of something smiley before looking away with a grimace.

gojo's eyes flit back to the encouraging boy before.

"okay," the upperclassman relents with a sigh, which instantly grows into a frown the moment every piece clicks into place in his mind and the goggles-wearing boy swears his heart skips a beat, "but what did you say about seeing shortie and know-"

stopping in the middle of the question, the boy stiffens.

three glasses shatter on impact with the floor, freed from the waiter's grasp, soon followed by two maids screeching your name in the most terror-struck voice ever manageable. gojo's six eyes provide him with enough details as always; albeit it seems miles from enough now, the way it always is in your case, further deepening the sorcerer's need to physically see you once; to soak in the brilliance of your gaze and the sweetness of the curve of your lips once.

who knows if he'll ever see you again from as close as- okay, no, wait-

"did you just run all the way here-"

"i love you."

"-in your heels?"

everything falls silent the moment the last word leaves gojo's lips and a shuddered breath escapes him into the bittersweet fragrance of the citrus perfume he remembers you using. in a lilac dress with a messy hairstyle and diamond studs, the youngest and newest leader of your clan stands before him, cheeks stretched in a wide grin.

whirling his seat round completely, the boy gives you one long look, only to earn a hauntingly soft look in return.

you smile.

"i know you might see me as the most inconsistent, lying, crazy bitch at best or as the most opportunistic bitch ever, trying to seduce you, for lack of a better term, to satisfy her craving for power, at worst; but no matter how you see me, how others see me, how i see myself - i'm in love with you, that's one thing which won't change no matter what."

you pause.

and as he watches you catch your breath after that long as hell sentence para, the first realisation which crashes on gojo's otherwise numb brain is: you too haven't changed.

not. one. bit.

from the way you stick to your minimal makeup look; to the way you speak sans any break and curse yourself as you confess to something (you think you did) wrong; to the way your gaze remains fixed on him, acutely trained on even the mildest twitch of his facial muscles... one whole month has passed since that stormy evening yet you're still the same you.

a little sweet. a little sour. a whole lot perfect-

who loves him-

you. love. him. too.

for the first time in an apparent eternity, gojo feels his lips lift in a free smile. although the chuckle leaving him sounds laden with moisture and emotions.

"i'll die before calling you a seductress, shortie," the boy says, "you're way too dumb and naive for that." your eyes move to the girl drinking beside him for a second, before settling back on him, a light sheen in them. smile widening yet growing a tender quality, he goes on to say, "and i know you aren't a liar; but regarding the inconsistent claim... i think an explanation's long overdue, isn't it?"

you huff a mild chuckle. stuffing your hands into your dress pockets, your senpai watches you draw in a long breath before letting it out in a whoosh, a tiny smile nestling in the corner of your lips. you begin.

"you know, right, my eldest brother was the clan leader before me? y'know, after my father just decided, one fine day, he's growing old and so he wants to retire somewhere peaceful now, with my mom, leaving me in the care of takeshi nii-chan and his wife?"

four pairs of eyes switch to him in silent query. ignoring them, gojo nods. it isn't everyday you speak so openly of your family, especially this topic concerning them.

considering how painful and sore it is for you.

how big of an escapist your father is.

how big of an asshole your brother is.

how utterly difficult it is for you to navigate in this household daily.

your sigh interrupting his thoughts, he hears you continue, "well, all was going well until it was not; and i decided i'd already spent too much time being a spectator to my life and future keeping getting kicked around like a fucking soccer ball."

few gasps sound in the vicinity, undoubtedly at you cussing. nanami's smooth voice cuts in through their shocked surprise, and through the bubble, gojo was under the impression, he and you had slipped into.

judging from the tiny start you give, the white-haired boy surmises you too must have felt the same.

your classmate's solemn voice sounds in the hush, though traces of a hesitation can still be found in it when he asks, "they... didn't arrange a wedding for you in the month you were here... did they?"

"they did," you're quick to answer, voice growing a steely quality, "the higher-ups and my brother decided to get me engaged to-"

"to whom?"

gojo's lips quirk up at the way you roll your eyes at suguru's impatient question, then look at him, a tired smile creeping onto your features. but, hey! is that a tinge of shyness on your face that the boy can see?

you point your chin at him. "to 'toru, who else?"

the second (or maybe, the third) bout of silence would have followed this statement of yours too - if not for the cackling girl beside gojo. the latter makes no effort to conceal his irritation, shooting the most vicious glare ever; shoko simply raises her glass, as if in a toast, then tosses you a smirk.

"you love him, still you don't wanna get hitched with him? not very clever of you, yeah?"

"yeah," haibara chips in, albeit much less teasing and more a worried timbre than shoko, the shades-wearing boy deems. the other student continues, brows creasing together, "plus, i doubt gojo senpai saying no to the proposal. so, why didn't you go ahead with it?"

your head tilts to one side. your lips twitch in a knowing fashion.

"you just said the reasons yourself, yu-kun."

years later, if someone asks gojo when's the time he realised he's in love with you, too deep and too far gone to ever consider anyone but you by his side, as his other and undoubtedly better half, the sorcerer will grin the goofiest grin ever and sigh the dreamiest sigh ever, and say, "every day."

which is the truth, really-

yet, from those 'every day'-s, there exist few such days, whom the six-eyes user's brain subconsciously frames in a golden frame and places on a dust-free pedestal.

for instance, today.

a day your senpai dreaded to begin by leaving the comfort of his bed, knowing the person whose ascension to the metaphorical throne he has been invited to witness today, blood chilling and condensing into tears on his lashes as memories from long ago and not-so-long-ago hurtle into his brain.

only to morph, by evening, into the day the boy realises: love isn't just what made him switch his infinity off and pull you under him, a shield to protect you from the crumbling roof, forgetting everything except your safety and life; but love is also what made you push him and the emotions within yourself away.

forgetting everything - the boy knows from knowing you these many years - except your very evident aim of shielding him from the vicious schemes of those responsible for this damned jujutsu hierarchy.

no matter how easy and rewarding the other path would've been for you.

no matter how difficult and painful this current path must've been for you.

just 'cause you love him.

just 'cause you know, at the end of it all, he's going to be safe, away from the manipulating hands of the higher-ups - away from even the slimmest chance of experiencing a shred of the ordeals you suffered as a child, losing your free will and living as a mere puppet, subject to those old geezers' whims and fancies.

the two of you are not-too-near to the threshold of adulthood; still, through those unsure lenses of transition between immaturity and maturity, gojo feels sure this very moment that his eyes are viewing now - of watching his feelings being reciprocated not only in words (which, he knows, are true; your body language is as familiar to him as the back of his hand) but also in actions - so pure, so selfless, so utterly... loving-

the boy reckons his six eyes have never landed on a sight so ethereal and just so good, that it makes his heart want to burst right out of his chest.

drinking in the way you're regarding him, fingers fidgeting and teeth gnawing on your lower lip, gojo cracks a smile.

your restlessness abates a little.

"you became the clan leader just to make sure this story remains ours and only ours, didn't you?"

you take a moment before answering with a big nod.

"yeah," you say, "but that doesn't mean you need to be grateful to me or anything of the sort. you can give me any answer you want to give. you can also give me no answer, now or ever, if that's what you really want to do. just know that i love you, and that your answer can never really put a dent in it, no matter what it is."

"no matter what it is?" your senpai echoes your words back to you. a small nod is what you send in reply; yet it seems to be more than the quantity of oil required to set the cogs of gojo's brain whirring to life and mischief. eyes narrowing, he asks, "not even if my response is an 'i love you too, shortie', hm?"

the clock in the room ticks thrice.

two known voices mutter curses behind him.

five maids of yours scurry out the door, whispering excitedly.

you narrow your eyes back at him.

"i asked you to not feel pressured, didn't i? tell me what you want to say, 'toru," you say; his name in your mouth sounds sweeter than the sweetest mochi the boy's ever tasted, "and not those stuff you think i want to hear you say."

your statement draws an amused chortle from gojo. "did you really forget what i told you last that day, shortie? or did you not again not understand what i was telling you then?"

"what's there to not understand in that!?" your indignant reply arrives without missing a beat, "you said you've always seen me as way more than a childhood friend: true 'cause we're best friends. then- oh yeah," with a click of your fingers, you add, face steeped in contemplation, "you also said- oh."

"yep, oh," gojo nods his head in an exaggerated fashion, revelling in the way you're looking at him right now, eyes round as saucers and cheeks ruddy as the expensive wine being served now.

you still seem so beautiful to him.

it takes a pinch more than a while before you breathe out a breathless giggle. straightening in his seat, gojo feels his cheeks hurt a bit from the wide smile digging indents into them.

"you really lo-"

"ma'am, the guests for the evening party will be here very soon. you should get ready now," one of your maids interrupts you. the sorcerer feels his smile shrivel a little. you're barely back with him; yet you'll be stolen away from him-

"aw, is it so?" your entertained query cuts in through his thoughts. the boy looks up from his shoes his gaze had moved to before, to you, an awfully fake apologetic smile lighting up your face.

gods, why do you look so fucking kissable when you're like this?

"you know what, the people invited aren't really the kind i want to talk to and ruin my mood. besides, i've already met 'my' guests, so..." the boy watches you inch closer to him slowly as you trail off; your maid's eyes narrow before widening. you grin. "toodles, mrs. matsui!"

that and the salute you throw at everyone in the room are the last two memories clear in gojo's mind, before everything turns into a mush of everything yet nothing in the end.

well, barring a few exceptions, of course.

your contagious chortles, for instance, while you both dash down the hallways of your mansion; or your delighted gasp when he wraps his arms round you and warps to that patisserie in nikko; or your million-watt-bright beam to him, as you slap the latter's sneaky hands away from stealing a bite from your plate, whilst the latter declares this to be where you two will celebrate the future milestones; or the-

"ieiri senpai was right, y'know?" your tired voice cuts in through your senpai's rather-muddled recollections. the latter tears his gaze away from the inky-black night sky dotted by the twinkling lights of tokyo, to your drowsy form resting her head on his chest, his one arm tight around your shoulders, while the other rests behind his head on the cold hood of the car.

moving to brush the strands of hair away from your forehead, the boy presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, earning a sweet kiss to his chin in return, and hums, "not really the person i wanna chat about right now with my girlfriend..." you suddenly twist your body towards him, throwing an arm over his stomach and nuzzling into his neck; making a mental note to address you as that more often, he sighs. "but carry on, i guess. you won't be you if you can't gush about that damn shoko every third sentence or something."

planting your lips to his jaw for a mere second, gojo watches you pull away an inch from him, grinning. "senpai said you'll be the first one to confess but i'll be the one who makes things official and public and all that shit," you explain, then gasp, grin turning wider.

"oh my god," you mutter, "geto senpai and iori senpai are gonna lose so much money to her. them two never thought you could ever say 'i love you' to me, did you know that? oh my god... i kind of feel bad for those two."

the gleeful expression you're wearing tells your boyfriend otherwise - choosing to ignore it, he throws you a smirk. "well, i don't. those two people shouldn't have doubted me. i'm the one and only gojo satoru," he proclaims, puffing his chest out a bit, "of course, I'll be successful in my mission of getting you to notice my love for you."

"nah, i don't think so," you shake your head the very next instant. lips into the most adoring curve he's ever seen on you - something which steals his retort away from him and makes him want to pinch his arm hard, to see if he's dreaming or not - you hum.

"you could confess your love to me, not 'cause you're gojo satoru. but because you're my 'toru and i'm your shortie... isn't it so?"

gojo thinks back to the time utilised in carefully drafting and finalizing the steps via which he can catch your eye, only to watch them not go the way planned.

gojo looks back to you, only to find your eyes trained on him, glitters of love in them unbelievably similar to those loud crackers bursting in his chest right now.

the young sorcerer runs a reverent finger down the side of your face.

"yeah, it is because you're my shortie and i'm your 'toru, sweetness," he whispers, "and we'll always stay this way, yeah?"

you reply by engraving the shape of your smile into his.

AND MY MAGNUM OPUS IS OVER, BESTIES!!! 🥳🥳😊

tysm once again for always showing me sm love and support, y'all 🥹🥹🥹 i cherish each and every one of u so so SO MUCH - plesae keep supporting me and my works the same way in the future too, my loves 🥹🥹❤️

masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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viperify · 4 months ago

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Kinktober 2024 | 𝗼𝗰𝘁 𝟭𝟳: ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Let me take care of you. | pt. 2

Read Part One before!

Short summary: After the encounter in the Prefect’s Bathroom, you two decide to meet again. Will this night change everything between you two?

Warnings: 18+ only! virgin!reader, loss of virginity, soft sex

A/N: Sorry this took so long but I am working on a whole Tom fanfic on Wattpad and AO3 so that also keeps me busy. Plus school is stressing me tf out. On another note, I am kinda proud of this one hehe. Feel free to leave feedback!! <3

wordcount: 2,2k

“Let’s get us dry now, hm?” Tom encouraged, shifting his position to sit upright. You protested, furrowing your eyebrows. “Wanna stay here with you, please.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” He shook his head slightly, grinning. “Meet me in my dorm later today? You have the entire night to cuddle with the best student of Hogwarts.”

You abruptly sat up, playfully smacking his bare chest. “I can’t believe you, Riddle!”

He was right, though, about the getting out of the bath part at least. The water in the bathtub had cooled down and you started to feel quite cold, despite the close body contact with the brunette.

Just after you stood up, water droplets dripping down your naked body, you realized you were now standing right in front of Tom, who was still sat against the bathtub, your exposed self on full display.

His eyes, first glued to yours, were now steadily trailing downwards, his piercing gaze sending shivers down your spine. Yes, of course he had pretty much touched every part he was now slowly taking in, though how your curves looked was left up to his imagination. Well, until now at least.

Instinctively, you tried covering yourself with your hands, but Tom was quick to stop you.

“Don’t ever hide yourself from me, pretty girl. You look absolutely stunning, even better than I had ever imagined.” His lips met your lower sternum, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses all over your tummy. Your hands gripped his brunette locks, sweet little moans escaping your parted lips as you closed your eyes at the sensation. Tom placed one more kiss on the mound of your cunt, making you giggle, slightly tugging on his hair to warn him.

“You have thought of me like this?” You gasped, as he continued kissing down your thighs. He then paused, meeting your surprised expression with his lust filled eyes. Finally, he stood up as well, his taller figure towering over you.

He caressed the back of your head, and leaned in, finally closing the gap between the both of you.

“Every.” kiss “Single.” kiss “Day.” kiss.

His words made you blush, now thinking of what he might have been doing while imagining you all naked in front of him.

Suddenly, you felt his touch on the back of your knees, lifting you into his arms. You squealed at the swift motion, and Tom carried you out of the tub.

He then grabbed a towel you had already prepared beforehand and dried you up, with tenderness you couldn’t even have fathomed.

“You do this often?” You asked him teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

“Just admit I am good at taking care of the birthday girl.”

Arrogant bastard, you thought.

“I hate you”

“You don’t, princess.”

“What did you just call me?”

In the meanwhile, Tom had started getting dressed, ignoring your question.

“Don’t ever call me that again, Riddle.” By the time you realized you should probably get dressed as well, Tom was already done. “Hurry up. I don’t have all day. Or do you need help putting on clothes as well?” He grinned, walking over to you.

A blush formed on your cheeks, bending down to fetch your robes.

Smack.

You yelped, turning around to meet Tom’s amused expression. “You did not!” You exclaimed.

“Turn around so I can do it again.” The brunette said, a smug grin on his face. His hands grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Out, Riddle. Leave!” You demanded, shaking your head.

“Want a goodbye kiss, please.” He leaned in, but you turned your head to the side. “Be nice if you want a kiss.” Tom laughed. “Tom Riddle doesn’t have to be nice to get what he wants, princess.”

“Not with me.” You giggled.

“Alright. Going to be nice.”

“Good.” You let him have his goodbye kiss in the end.

“Now get dressed. If anyone sees you like this I might have to kill them. See you later tonight.” He winked at you and with that, he left.

As soon as the door closed behind the brunette, you exhaled sharply. You did not just do all of that with the boy you were meant to hate, right?

The rest of the afternoon you spent reading a book your parents had gotten you for your last year at Hogwarts. It had just turned 8pm when you got ready to head to Tom’s dorm, about to meet him again.

You knocked on his door and could already feel your heart thumping in your chest. Why were you that nervous?

He opened the door, smirking when he saw it was you. “Come in.” His dorm was quite spacious, the other boys being out for Christmas as well. It was getting dark, and the Slytherin house being located under the ground did not help the case. Thus, he had a few candles lit, giving the room a cozy feeling. He seemed to even have prepared, putting up some more cushions and blankets on his bed. The scent of his perfume lingered in the air, drawing your attention back to the brunette in front of you.

“I got you something. It’s not much but I hoped you would like it” He got a bouquet of flowers from his nightstand, handing them to you.

“Tom you did not have to get me anything.” You whispered, taking in the pretty flowers he had gifted you.

“It’s your birthday.” He stated, and you closed the gap between you two, capturing him in a passionate kiss. “Thank you, I appreciate it a lot.”

He just smiled and kissed you again, finding your waist to guide you two towards the bed, so you were now sitting on his lap on the edge of his bed, making out with him. Your hand trailed up his back, until they found his brunette curls, playing with them.

As the kiss got more heated, Tom’s hands found their way up your shirt, cupping your breasts under the burgundy red lace bra you were wearing. A soft moan escaped your lips, and you both took a moment to catch your breath. He tugged on the fabric of your shirt, his fingers playing with its top button. “Take it off?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You knew where this would lead and couldn’t help but feel a slight bit of anxiety form in your stomach. It’s not like you did not want to, but the thought of it still made you nervous.

“Tom”

“Hmm?”

“I have never- uh - done this before.” Your face heated up, and you lowered your head. “No?” He asked, his hand caressing your cheek. When you only nodded, he kissed you again, softly this time. “I didn’t mean to rush you into anything. If you aren’t comfortable yet, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

You shook your head. “No, I do want to. Please.”

Slowly, you took off your top, and his eyes wandered to the soft lace covering your chest. “So pretty. All for me?” “All for you.” You whispered, kissing him again.

His fingertips grazed over your waist, all the way up to the only fabric left on your upper half, leaving goosebumps as you shivered at his touch. Expertly, he unclasped your bra, taking in the view in front of him. “Don’t stare.” You laughed. “Oh I am absolutely going to stare.” His lips trailed down kisses from your collarbone all the way to your left breast, placing a small peck on your nipple before closing his lips around it to suck on it while his other hand massaged the other side, rolling your hardening bud between his fingers.

You gasped at the foreign feeling, your fingers going through his brunette locks, slightly pulling on them. Tom took his time with you, every move calculated. He then released your nipple with a wet plop, making you whine at the loss of pleasure. You scooted forward on his lap, kissing him again, your hips grinding to search for friction on the fabric of his trousers. The brunette smiled. “Greedy girl.”

With one quick motion, he switched your positions, you now being under him. You reached for his shirt, opening button after button to expose his chest, giving it a kiss.

He then tugged at the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down. You matched your panties with the color of your bra, making him shake his head, smiling. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked you, and as you agreed, he kissed you again. You were now lying at the center of the bed, Tom positioning himself behind you, just like in the bathtub.

The brunette kissed the side of your head, trailing his hands downwards to your red panties. He started rubbing on your needy clit through the lace fabric, making you moan. Everything he had done until then was more than perfect, and you could feel the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. “Tom please” you whined, grinding your hips against his palm, desperately searching for more. Finally, he also slid your panties off, leaving you completely bare. You gripped his arm as he worked you towards your orgasm, soft gasps and moans spilling from your lips.

As you attempted to close your thighs around him, he stopped. “Open your legs for me, darling. Can't make you feel good if you don’t cooperate.” Tom then swung one of your legs over his to keep you in place, fingers finding your sweet spot once more.

“Tom-“ you whined, closing your eyes. You were so close, ready to let go. “I know. Be good for me and cum, love.” He encouraged you, his other hand tending to your breasts.

Finally, he sent you tumbling over the edge, your body shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Tom worked you through your high, praising you. “Such a good girl. Doing so well for me.”

You sank into him, your body going limp. The brunette shifted, laying you back onto the pillow. He undressed himself then, and as you took in the size of him, you weren’t so confident anymore. Back on the bed, he positioned himself above you, leaning in to give you a kiss. “Still sure? I am going to be careful. If anything’s wrong, you tell me to stop, okay?” Tom made sure, stroking your cheek. “Okay.” You nodded.

You gasped as you felt his tip slide through your slick folds, gathering your wetness. He aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in slightly. Your eyebrows furrowed, the sting making your body tense up. Tom stopped, meeting your eyes. “Relax for me, darling. It will get better.” You just nodded, sinking your head into the pillow. Just relax. It’s going to be fine, you thought.

Now, with a bit more pressure, his tip made its way past, slowly but surely stretching you out around him. Your legs circled around his hips, encouraging him to continue. “Merlin, you are so tight.” Tom growled under his breath, focusing on the way his length split you apart. When he was all the way in, finally, you thought, he paused for a moment, letting you get accustomed to his size. Only after you nodded, Tom pulled out of you slightly, just to push back in. He repeated that a few times, until he exited you completely, speeding up.

At that, you tapped his arm, and he stopped, still buried deep inside of you. “Hurts, Tom” you winced, your eyes meeting his. He kissed your forehead. “Sssh, darling. Just relax. I am going to be careful. You are taking me so well, I promise.”

His fingers found your sensitive clit in an attempt to ease your pain, and it sure did. Soon enough, with his careful thrusts and the growing pleasure, the uncomfortable feeling faded and soft moans escaped your mouth. Tom must have felt you relax as well, because he sped up, groaning at how tight your warm walls were gripping him.

Tom kissed you again, your hot and sweaty bodies touching. “Feel you clenching around me, darling. Let go. Come for me.” And you did. You moaned into the kiss as you convulsed around him, riding out your high. He soon followed, your pulsating walls milking him dry as he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows. Tom collapsed on top of you, catching his breath.

“I am so proud of you.” He praised. “That was amazing, Tom.” You breathed, kissing his curls. “I am glad it was you.”

He smiled at that, lifting his body off yours. Slowly, he pulled his softening length out of you, making you wince slightly. Tom then got up, getting a damp, warm cloth to clean you up. After that, he pulled you onto his chest, and soon enough you fell asleep, cuddled into the boy you once despised.

“Definitely not letting you go anymore now.” Tom muttered, giving your forehead a soft kiss, soon drifting off to sleep himself. That on his bed, together with the girl he once despised.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #slytherin boys #slytherin #kinktober #harry potter #oneshot #🦢⋆⭒˚.⋆my works

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hazbinshusk · 6 months ago

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Imagine being stuck at one of Charlie's group activities and Husk being in his usual place behind the bar, but he's got a remote control to the vibrator tucked into your underwear.

Imagine him looking so bored there, but every now and then, he adjusts the vibrator's strength, and you're stuck clutching at the arm of the couch, thighs and jaw clenching, trying to stop your eyes from rolling back as Charlie and Vaggie espouse the moral benefits of "clean living".

Imagine Charlie noticing the tears in your eyes as you try so hard not to moan and being "so super dooper proud" that you're so moved by her ideas. Imagine Angel's smirk and the snide comments he'd make as he realizes what's going on.

Imagine Husk chuckling behind the bar as you choke out that you're fine even as a whimper manages to slip out.

Imagine having to fumble for a reason not to leave because you can't let the others see the mark your cum is leaving on the couch beneath you.

Imagine just how smug he'd look. The bastard.

#hazbin hotel #husk #husk x reader #husk posting #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk x reader

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4unnyr0se · 5 months ago

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❥ call out my name | kei tsukishima

warnings: timeskip! tsukishima, fem! reader, confessions, out of character tsukki (i'm so sorry), slight choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, making out, hair pulling, feral/possessive tsukki

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 3.4k

a/n: IM BACK BITCHES WHATS UP?? also this is not proofread in the slightest so buckle up

part two of shameless

❥ song: call out my name - the weekend

Any relationship is complicated, no matter the nature of the relationship. Humans are stupidly complex creatures, after all. First, they want one thing, then another, and another. Humans are greedy, lustful, depraved creatures with desires that are so disgusting that even God himself can’t leave heaven because he is scared of what he has created. And you were ashamed of what you so craved, what you desired. It wasn’t money or power. That’s too simple. And your grades were already so perfect, so you didn’t need that either. No…what you wanted was someone. Someone who you hated with a fiery passion that rivaled the sun. And yet, he lit a fire inside you with even the simplest disapproving glance filled with such mockery.

Kei fucking Tsukishima.

Tsukishima was the one person on Earth that you seriously considered committing a felony over. Every time he flashed that smug little smirk, it only added more gasoline to the pyre of your hatred towards him. He was the worst, and he knew that too. He made no effort to get along with anybody who wasn’t Yamaguchi, bless that sweet boy’s soul.

And yet, you found yourself in Tsukishima’s dorm room, alone with the bastard, at least three times a week, maybe more. You weren’t proud of it, and you did everything you could to deny it openly. Those hickeys? You just happen to get drunk in a bar and make out with some stranger in their car. Your roommate kept asking where you were most nights, and you told her you went on dates in the library. She wouldn’t check, obviously, because she would never step foot in a library.

You hated him, but you were addicted to him. Addicted to the way his lips rolled alongside yours in such a sinful dance. Addicted to his molten fingertips sliding under your tight top to grope your breasts from behind as his teeth sank into your neck. Addicted to how his tongue slid across your core, making you feel like you were floating on a cloud as you came undone before him. And especially addicted to how Tsukishima fucked you like you were his, and he was yours. The way his body moved expertly with yours, the way his hands caged your head between them as he fucked you, rolling his hips against yours as his massive cock hit all the right places that made you both see stars.

The worst part was how nice he was after he came. He would pull you into his arms, brush your hair to the side, and kiss your neck. It was such an extreme juxtaposition to how he fucked you. You weren’t entirely sure what part of his personality was just an act. Or, maybe it wasn’t an act. Maybe he genuinely cared for you…yeah, right.

You glanced at the clock on your desk. Almost midnight, great. Your ballpoint pen was clicked off, thrown into the Star Wars mug with the rest of the pens that were dangerously low on ink, accompanied by highlights that ran dry weeks ago. You glanced at yourself in the desk mirror, observing how strained your eyes looked.

“So much for blue light glasses. These things never fucking work,” you muttered under your breath, pushing them further up against your exhausted face. Your roommate, fast asleep on your dorm's other side, looks unusually peaceful. A strong contrast to how bitchy she was with her other bottle-blonde friends. You looked away, groaning as your head started to throb. Maybe working on a paper for seven hours straight wasn’t the best idea.

Your office chair was pushed aside as you carefully stood up, examining yourself in the larger mirror on your door. Incredibly messy hair, a thin white tank top with a loose strap, and pajama bottoms that were more appropriate for Christmas morning.

“Not like anyone will see me anyways,” you grabbed your keycard and swiftly opened and closed the door to your room, hissing as the ugly fluorescents that decorated the halls offended your eyesight. Horrible, and you pay all this tuition for shitty lighting.

The water fountain hated you, and you hated it. Although it was responsible for kickstarting your passionate encounters with Tsukishima, maybe it wasn’t so bad. You glanced at your palm, looking at the dinosaur bandaid he had so carefully applied many nights ago. It was amazing that it hadn’t fallen off.

The water was a relief as it touched your lips—cold, crisp, and hydrating. Water was always best late at night when everyone else was asleep, and the halls were devoid of the ramblings of your dormmates. Peaceful, almost.

“I didn’t expect to see you out of your room until morning.” a familiar voice broke you out of your moment of serenity. Damn.

“Hi, Tsukki,” you sighed, wiping the stray bits of liquid from your lips. “I was working on a paper, and I lost track of time, I guess.”

Tsukishima chuckled. “I’ve been there before, but Tadashi was always there to snap me out of it. I guess your roommate doesn’t have that same level of courtesy, I suppose.” he shoved his pants in his pajama bottoms, SENDAI FROGS VOLLEYBALL TEAM embroidered on the side with green and yellow thread.

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hair out of what was left of your messy bun. “Yeah, well, Tadashi is a sweetheart. My roommate is…less than desirable. I’m never doing a random roommate assignment again, that’s for sure.”

Tsukishima took a step forward. “Tadashi is asleep at the library. He’s working on some notes for the Edo period lecture,” he smacked his lips. “Wanna keep me company?”

You blinked, and he was in front of you, tracing your lips with his calloused thumb. “C’mon, you know I like it when you pretend that you hate me and everything that I do.” his hand encircled your waist.

You gasped, quickly adjusting the loose strap on your tank top. “Listen, as much as I would like to have you fucked the shit out of me, I just finished staring at a computer screen for seven hours straight,” you took his thumb away from your lips. “I’m not really in the mood.”

His gaze saddened. Was that a hint of disappointment? “Well, who said we had to fuck?” he smirked, adjusting his glasses.

“Uh, maybe the two-dozen times we’ve fucked since I cut my hand?” you pointed to the fountain.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Keep your voice down, yeah? You might wake up the R.A.” Tsukishima smiled as an angry blush bloomed on your tired face. “How about some coffee instead? My older brother got me a miniature coffee machine before he moved me in. Claims it got him through many sleepless nights.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “And why are you being so nice to me?”

He leaned down, his golden eyes boring into yours. “Because sometimes, I’m not a total asshole.”

His side of the room was immaculate, with everything in place. Tadashi’s was messy, as per usual, but it was alright with you. Tsukki’s desk was also impossibly neat, boasting a stack of perfect papers and ballpoint pens that all seemed to work well enough. And the crowning jewel, the mini coffee machine with four different kinds of pods to choose from, how incredibly classy.

“I never took you for someone who drank anything except dark roast,” you said, picking up a coffee pod with caramel decals on the label. “Did your brother get you these as well?”

Tsukishima shook his head. “No, Tadashi did. He got mad because he claimed I’m missing out on a full coffee experience, whatever that means,” he sighed, sitting in his desk chair. “Honestly, I’ll never understand him. He’s so positive all the time, it’s strange.”

You took a seat on his neatly made bed. “Well, one of you two has to be. There’s always a grumpier one in a duo, especially roommates.”

“Are you the grumpy one in your dorm?” he placed a mug under the coffee dispenser.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you smiled, admiring how Tsukishima looked in his dorm's dim, warm light. The fairy lights on Tadashi’s side of the room subtly illuminated his face, softening Tsukishima’s sharp facial features. “But, you’re even more grumpy than I am. I’ve never seen you genuinely smile.”

Tsukishima placed the coffee pod in the machine and closed it. “I can smile without being sarcastic, you know.”

The whirring of the coffee machine filled the awkward silence as he sat down on his bed next to you, his lithe fingers dancing over your knuckles. “You just don’t see me smile.”

“Well, when do you smile?”

Tsukshima licked his lower lip. “After we fuck. When you’re in my arms, and I’m brushing your hair. You can’t see because you’re facing away from me, but I smile.”

Your heart stung at those words. Why was he being vulnerable with you, and now of all times? His hand intertwined with yours, his gorgeous golden eyes not daring to make contact. “I told myself that if I ever grew feelings, I would cut this off right away,” he sighed, staring at his slippers. “But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It would be torture for me, even though you hate my guts.”

Wait a damn minute. “Tsukki, is this a confession? You’re confessing to me, and I look like this? Oh, god.” you stifled a chuckle.

“Shut up and let me talk!” his cheeks boasted an angry blush. “I like spending time with you, even with your bratty attitude. When we kissed for the first time, it was like…it was like I finally reached the end of a long road. I sound so stupid, I can’t believe I’m being…soft.” he placed his hand in his palms, muttering curses into them.

You smiled and moved closer, pulling his face out of his hands. “Tsukki, do you have a crush on me?” you tilted his chin to face yours. “Because I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t have a crush on you.”

He bit his lip. “Really? You aren’t being a smartass right now?”

“Really.” your face matched his red hue, offering him a genuine smile that he craved so desperately.

“Fuck, come here,” Tsukishima pulled you flush against his chest, cupping your face as he slowly kissed your bitten lips. His hands secured themselves around your hips, massaging the exposed skin between your tank top and pajama bottoms. You sighed into the kiss, admiring how soft and gentle he was being with you.

He slowly pushed you down so your head was almost hanging off the foot of his bed, his rough hands sliding up and down your waist. Your arms locked around his neck, tugging at the loose blonde baby hairs at the base. After what seemed like ages, Tsukishima reluctantly pulled away, resting his burning face between your neck and shoulder.

“Somebody’s embarrassed,” you teased, lightly massaging his back. Fuck, had his back muscles gotten stronger since the last time you saw each other?

“I’m not embarrassed,” he groaned into your neck, placing feather-light kisses along your jugular. “Love confessions are stupid, that’s all.”

“So why did you confess to me, hm?” you pecked his cheek.

Tsukishima clicked his tongue. “Because I don’t think I could live with myself if you started seeing someone else. Or even worse, someone that I knew. You,” he squeezed your arm. “You belong with me, isn’t it obvious?”

So fucking adorable. “So, why won’t you look me in the eyes and say it?”

He peeled himself from your neck and pressed his forehead against yours, doing exactly as you told. He observed how beautiful your eyes were, how they reflected off of the fairy lights. Fuck, you were a goddess.

“You’re so stupidly beautiful, fuck,” he pressed his lips against yours once again, more passionate than before. Your legs wrapped around his waist, securing his position as his teeth nipped at your lower lip, groaning as you raked your hands through his golden curls. “So pretty.”

Tsukishima’s hands grasped your wrists, pinning them above your head on the plush mattress. Breaking the kiss, his molten lips trailed down to the sensitive spot above your collarbone, suckling harshly. His hips roll into yours, his erection prominent under his sweatpants.

You groan into the kiss, opening your mouth for his tongue to explore as your mouths sinfully dance together lazily. Tsukishima’s lithe fingers leave your wrists and grasp at your breast, silently cursing the bra you wore.

He reluctantly breaks the kiss. “Fucking take it off. Let me see you.” he groans, flinging his shirt across the room without hesitation.

Your hands slide under your shirt, slowly removing it as your face bores a confused expression. “You’re just gonna call me a slut for being so easy, aren’t you?” your voice is barely a whisper as your gentle hands unclasp your bra, allowing your breasts to spring free.

Tsukishima feels his breath hitch in his throat. He’s going to die, and it’s all your damn fault for being so fucking sexy.

“Not tonight, love,” he whispers against your clavicle, his thumb rolling over your pert nipple. “Tonight,” his tongue dances around your areola. “I’m gonna show you how much I like you, you stupidly pretty girl.”

Your fingers dance in his hair as he shamelessly sucks on your breasts, alternating between massaging them and kissing them, leaving no breast unattended for too long. Your thighs wrap around his waist, pushing his erection closer to your clothed core.

“Tsukki-” he cuts you off with a harsh kiss.

“Kei,” his hoarse voice groans, fidgeting with the hem of your pajama bottoms. “Call me Kei. Fucking scream it, let the whole damn hall know who’s making you feel so good.”

His finger glides across your soaked cunt, dipping inside with ease as your sweet, candied moans fill his ears like an opera. His fingers work fast, not even bothering to slide your panties to the side as your voice spikes octave by octave.

“Say my fucking name,” Tsukishima demands, his thumb rolling over your sensitive clit. “Say my fucking name like a good little girl, and then I’ll make you see stars.” his erection is painful inside his sweatpants, precum staining the boxers underneath.

“K-Kei! Oh, fuck, I’m so fucking close!” you cry out, your hands tugging on his hair like a feral animal as his fingers continue working their way to your precious orgasm. His teeth, sharp as a vampire, nip and suck at your neck, leaving a blooming pattern of black and purple hickeys on your delicate skin, marking you as his until they eventually fade away. But he’ll just keep giving you another hickey, and then another, until everyone on the entire fucking campus knows who you belong to.

Just as you were teetering on the edge of release, he pulls his fingers out of your sobbing pussy and licks them, not breaking eye contact with you once. “So fucking good,” he groans. His hands pull down your bottoms along with your panties, leaving them dangling around your ankle as you lay beneath him, naked and unsatisfied.

“Kei, what the fuck? I was so fucking close!” you complain, lightly shoving his chest. “What’s your deal, man?”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond. Instead, he shoves apart your thighs and wraps them around his head, bending you in half. His chapped lips trail delicate kisses inside of your thighs, nipping at the apex before his tongue licks a teasingly slow stripe on your core.

“Oh, fuck,” you sigh, groping your tits as his tongue begins to lap up and down, occasionally sucking on your clit.

“Can’t fucking get enough of you, oh my god,” Tsukishima groans, sending vibrations throughout your pussy. “You taste like nectar, love.”

Love. That was the first time he ever called you something affectionate. Something other than degrading you and making you feel lesser than he was.

“Kei,” you breathe, feeling the familiar sensation of your stomach coil tightening up. “I think I’m gonna-”

“Cum.” he commands. “Cum on my face like a good girl,” he whispers, mouth covered in your slick as he suckles on your throbbing clit one final time, sending you over the edge and into an ocean of euphoria.

Your back arches into the pillows behind you as you ride out your orgasm, Tsukishima licking up every last drop of your release with vigor to rival a man starved. Finally, he allows your legs to rest back on the mattress, wiping your cum off his face.

“That was amazing,” you reach your arms out to cuddle him, thinking it’s all over.

“We aren’t done yet,” Tsukishima takes off the rest of his clothes, his painfully hard erection slapping against his tone stomach, precum drooling down the tip. “What, did you think you got to cum just because I was feeling generous?” his voice is laced with sarcasm.

“Well, yeah-” he interrupts you yet again.

“You’re wrong, love,” his forehead connects with yours, golden eyes staring into your own, the plain lust and desire for you swirling within.

His filthy mouth parts open. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that the thought of another man will make you sick.”

Tsukishima aligns his cock with your entrance, slapping his throbbing tip on your clit a few times. “Beg for me to fuck you, pretty girl,” he commands, not even bothering to reach for the box of condoms next to the bed.

You bite your lip. “Please, Kei,” your voice is shy. “Please, fuck me. I want you so badly, please,” your small hands wrap around his neck. “Show me how badly you want me, Kei.”

As his name leaves your lips like dripping honey, something inside of him snaps. Tsukishima plants his hands on either side of your face, shoving his cock inside of your soaked core without giving you time to adjust. His expert hips start to roughly piston in and out of you, shaking your body and the bed altogether.

“Holy fuck!” you sob, your hands quickly migrating to his back, nails scratching hard against his muscles. “Kei, too much! Oh fuck, too rough!” you beg and plead, your cries falling on deaf ears as Tsukishima is lost in a frenzy of lust. Lust for you, lust for your body, lust for your brain, lust for everything that could make you you. He was secretly and disgustingly obsessed with you. The thought of another man touching what was so obviously his drove him insane. Why not just take what was his?

“Fucking take it, you’re so fucking beautiful when you take my cock,” he roars into your ear, his hand wrapping itself around your throat for a gentle squeeze. “You’re all fucking mine, aren’t you, love?” his cock is ruthlessly fucking your poor pussy, his balls slapping against your ass as he hits that one spot that makes you see stars.

“A-All yours, Kei! I’m all yours. There’s no one else!” you sob, wrapping your legs around his slender waist once more so he can fuck you impossibly deeper.

His mouth contorts into a wicked smile, glasses falling off his sculpted features and onto the floor to be forgotten about. “That’s right. Oh, I fucking love it when you’re smart.” his hand presses against your belly. “You can feel me in here, can’t you, love?” he harshly thrusts.

“Kei!” you shriek, your nails making crescent-shaped indents in his skin. “I-I’m gonna fucking cum, Kei! Fuck, make me cum!” tears swell in the corner of your eyes as that familiar coil sensation fills your gut once more.

“Hold it. I’m, fuck, I’m so fucking close. Cum with me, yeah, my love? Cum with me like the good girl I know you are.” his voice becomes shrill as he feels his own release approach him, slotting your lips with his as both of your climaxes approach at the same time.

“Fuck, cumming. I’m, oh yeah, cumming-” his cock twitches inside of your ruined cunt, spilling his white hot seed into your womb as you release all over his member, coating it in your slick that he loves so dearly.

The room stays silent as Tsukishima collapses into your chest, giving each one of your tits a chaste kiss. “Fuck…I got too carried away, didn’t I?” his golden eyes land on the faintest of hand marks around your bruised neck. “I’m…I’m so sorry, love.”

Your delicate hand cups his face, kissing his nose. “It’s okay, Kei. I got what you meant.”

Tsukishima becomes shy again. “Yeah, of course you did. You’re smart like that, smart girl.” he rolls over and pulls you into his chest, pressing a lingering kiss on your sweaty forehead. “...sorry about now using a condom.”

“What was that?”

“Shut up and go to sleep, dummy.”

“Okay, cutie.”

“And don’t call me that!”

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