#and that seat is going to break any moment now

[prettydaisygirl]

Us and Them (zombie au): Chapter Thirteen

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader who tells Rafe about JJ ✿ 1.6k words

cw: zombie apocalypse, fem!reader, Rafe is really mean in this one you guys i'm sorry, Rafe has a broken leg, angst with no positive ending this time, please read the last part before this one

rafe cameron masterlist

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previous part

The barn door creaks open slowly when you push it and your dread worsens. Somehow, even after everything, this upcoming conversation with Rafe might have you feeling more terrified than you ever have. More than when Rafe fell through the roof of a building, more than when you had to go alone out into the city, even more than when you got kidnapped and abandoned in the woods with zombies. 

Your heart pounds, getting louder with each step closer to Rafe. He looks up at you with a pained look. His face is pale and slightly tinted green. You make a point not to look at his leg. 

“You’re back.” He says, tone slightly pained. He doesn’t seem happy to see you, but you don’t blame him. You nod and look down nervously, and he takes your hesitation as a sign of failure.

“You didn’t get shit, huh?” He asks, but it’s not a question. It’s like he knows the answer, like he was expecting it. That somehow makes the pit in your stomach sink further. You didn’t know it could go any further.

“No, I- I did…” You tell him, digging through your bag to grab everything he’d asked for. You dump the contents on the bed and the look of surprise on his face makes you feel small with him in a way you haven’t in a long time. He digs through the bottles and you stand there. You let the bag drop to your side. “I got everything you asked for, and- and because I wasn’t sure on some things I grabbed more.” He hums in acknowledgment of your words but there’s no sign that he actually hears what you’re saying. “Rafe, I have to tell you something…”

“Gimme a fuckin’ second.” His jaw is already tight again and you feel like tapping your foot against the slightly rotted floor of the barn. You don’t, because Rafe would just yell at you for that too, but it feels like every passing second is wasted while his sister and her group are out there looking for the House. You should be out there too, except you were stupid. And now you’re trying to fix it.

“No, listen, it’s important, Rafe-” His face hardens, his grip on the bottles tightening as his eyes turn to you with a sharp glare. He’s practically sneering. You try not to take it personally, you know the pain must be excruciating, but you can’t help it. You know if you tried to kiss him right now, he would shove you away, and that hurts more than anything else. 

“Shut the fuck up! Holy shit!” His words are growled at this point, and you take a step back. He grabs for the water bottle on the nightstand, one of the very few the two of you have left, and downs a handful of pills. More than you think is probably recommended on the bottles. 

He tosses the empty water bottle across the room, where it lands on the floor with a light thunk. He rubs his hands over his face and settles back against his sleeping bag. You let him breathe for a moment before you break the silence again. 

“I’m trying not to be stupid.” You tell him, taking a seat on your own sleeping bag with your knees pulled up to your chest. “That’s why I’m trying to tell you.” 

His face relaxes. Not entirely, but enough that you can release some of the tension from your own shoulders. You really shouldn’t, though, because until you fully explain yourself, he’s going to be mad. Actually, until the painkillers kick in, you think he is going to be angry anyway. 

You watch as he rests his head back, his arm behind it. His adam’s apple bobs as he closes his eyes and takes a heavy breath in. When he speaks, his voice is rough, and part of you feels so guilty you almost chicken out all together. “Let me set my leg first.” He says, sitting up. 

“No, really Rafe, I don’t think it can wait-” He starts moving his leg while you’re speaking and you choke out of your words, turning your gaze away. Your stomach churns, and the words pour out of you uncontrollably like the bile in your throat threatens to.

“I ran into someone while I was out.”

You can hear him freeze, the air in the barn going frigid and completely silent. You slowly turn your head to look at him, his face dark, his eyes staring directly into your soul. 

“What?”

“I- There was a guy at the pharmacy.” Rafe’s expression turns harder at your words, you didn’t even know that was possible. He doesn’t speak, just stares until eventually you find yourself scrambling to explain. “I didn’t hear him come in, he just snuck up behind me while I was looking for your medication. He wasn’t mean and he didn’t hurt me, he helped me find what I needed and actually he was really nice but Rafe-”

“You spoke to him?”

The air leaves your lungs and the words stop coming. Rafe is shaking, anger practically seeming from his pores. You force yourself to continue. 

“W-Well, I would’ve run away if I could have, and technically, he spoke to me first…”

“You are so fucking stupid!” You flinch at Rafe’s outburst, regret and guilt churning in your gut. You’ve seen him upset, angry, you’ve seen him kill people with his bare hands. But you’ve never been on the receiving end of his wrath, not like this. “How many times have I told you about this? He probably fucking followed you back here, and now we’re going to die tonight because I can’t even walk on my own. And, oh yeah, that’s also your fault!” 

“He didn’t follow me back here.” You try to argue, but it comes out weaker than you want. You don’t want to keep letting him scream at you like this, at some point you’re going to break. 

“How the hell can’ya even know that?” 

“Because he walked away first! He didn’t see me leave…” You word start out stronger this time, though the end trails off when Rafe rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you.

“That doesn’t mean anythin’! You’re so fuckin’ naive sometimes, it just makes me so fuckin’-”

“He said he knows you.” You interrupt. You aren’t going to keep letting him spiral and yell at you. You deserve to explain yourself, to tell him what happened. 

“What?” Based on the way Rafe’s entire body goes frigid, every muscle tensing in his body, you might have said the wrong thing. But you can’t stop now, so you start speaking again. Rafe watches with an expression so angry, so upset, you don’t think you have a word for it. But he doesn’t interrupt you again, focused intently on every single word that leaves your mouth.

“He said the reason he followed me into the pharmacy was because he was going to corner me and ask me some questions about… the area, I guess. He said he and his friends are here looking for a house, and he specifically said it was the house that used to belong to the family of a girl in his group, so… so I asked who the girl was, and he said her name is Sarah Cameron.”

Rafe still doesn’t say anything, but when you look into his eyes it’s like he’s a completely different person. Not your boyfriend, not the man you fell in love with, who loves you, who has protected you all this time. A stranger. 

“He said his name was JJ.” You add, and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. 

“Get out.” Rafe’s voice is low, like a growl, like the voice of a predator and it makes your skin crawl for more than one reason.

“What?” Your whole body goes cold, like you were dunked in an ice bath. He wouldn’t do this, right? He said he’d never leave you, he’d never abandon you now especially after everything, he said-

“Get the fuck out!” He throws something at you, you don’t see what it is, you just duck. You stand back up, face completely tense with hurt and betrayal.

“Rafe, you said you’d never-”

“If you wanna fuck around with Pogues, go be with the fuckin’ Pogues!” His words are sharp and barked, and you find yourself struggling to breathe. “Get out. And leave my fuckin’ gun.”

You watch him for a long moment, your world tilting on its axis and everything falling apart. It’s like nothing you ever do is good enough for him. Even now, after everything the two of you have been through together, he’s willing to just throw you away. You’d spent so much time in the early days of the End thinking he was going to leave you, and now that it’s actually happening, you thought you were safe with him. Your hand finds the gun in its holster, your fingers shaking, and you purposely set it just out of his reach.

“Fuck you, Rafe.” Your voice cracks but you don’t care. “Fuck you. Have fun with your broken leg, asshole.” You want to say more but you can’t. 

You turn and walk out of the barn, muttering under your breath. Fury and betrayal course through your veins and you head into the countryside despite the setting sun.

And you don’t look back. 

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© prettydaisygirl

[fish145]

dutiful evenings

Aemond Targaryen x Arryn wife!Reader

Summary: after drifting apart suddenly, you started hating your husband. now bound only by duty, he must bed you until you fall pregnant with his child. but feeling are difficult and unpredictable, and all consuming.

Warnings: arguing over nothing, PinV, unprotected sex (this is fiction, use protection), enemies to lovers (?), table sex, bathtub sex, tiddy sucking and pinching, fingering, groping, creampiessssssssss, bit of dirty talk, idk i prob missing some things

4.7K

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You and Aemond’s wedding had been grand. Married to an Arryn, a great ally and an even prettier lady. He did his duty, as expected, but he supposed your loveliness did help.

But just three weeks after the wedding, Aemond started pulling back. He would claim he was too busy for you, that training and studying and matters of state were taking up all of his time. But when you saw him sometimes just walking around the Red Keep, or sitting in the library reading a book you knew he had finished before, things started going downhill.

You had commented on it, which in turn made him defensive. 

“Why can’t you just spend one night with me?” you had complained. Aemond just shook his head, sighing as if you had said one of the stupidest things he had ever heard. 

“You married a prince of the realm,” he replied coolly, “you must realise that I am a busy man.”

Argument after argument followed, completely tearing you two apart. You moved into separate bedchambers, avoiding him for an entire week when your septa calmly reminded you of your duties.

So you found yourself face to face with your husband again, making up rules so you could become with child. You would try for a babe, in the best case scenario every single evening. During the week both of you could deny the other once, some sort of veto. 

It was crude in a way, having to make these rules together just so you could become pregnant, but it was important. He needed--wanted--an heir. And it was your duty to give him one. 

At least you didn't need to be near him afterwards.

Dinner that evening was awfully quiet again. You were both seated at the grand table, almost a comical distance between you two. You ate silently, gritting your teeth when you heard his knife scrape obnoxiously loud against his plate. You looked up to stare at him, his lone gaze focused on cutting the meat on his plate. 

“Well? You won’t even talk to me this eve?” you said annoyed, finally breaking the heavy silence between you both.

Aemond sighed deeply, glancing up at you from his meal. “What is there to discuss?” he asked drily, setting his cutlery back down. “The weather? The state of the realm? We have already exhausted all of these… pleasant topics already.” 

His words were sarcastic, more barbed than he probably intended. He was growing tired of the bickering, of having the same argument every single night. Yet he never backed down. 

You scoff, looking into your husband’s eye. “Have we already?” you replied, “Funny, I do not recall you even speaking to me today.”

There was a challenge in your eyes, a clear invitation for him to dare rebuke you. Aemond was quiet for a moment, taking a sip of his wine. He clearly needed it to steady himself.

He finally looked back at you, regarding you with his one eye. “You know my duties keep me busy during the day,” he replied, his finger tracing the rim of his cup. 

“What would you have me do? Hover over your shoulder from dawn to dusk? I think you have made your desire for space abundantly clear.”

His voice was steady, confident. Though inwards, he sometimes wondered if distance was truly what you desired. He remembered the honeymoon as if it was yesterday, remembered the way you had smiled at him.

One look at you made reality crash down on him. His marriage was proving more difficult than tactics of war, but his pride would never allow him to show any weakness in front of you. Especially now, when you were acting up again.

Your eyes had narrowed at his words, anger bubbling hot and ugly inside of you.

“Have I really?” you replied to him, your chair scraping loudly when you stood up. You walked over to where he was sitting, his eye following your every move with caution. “Because I remember it very differently,” you spoke as you walked. 

“I believe it was you who shrugged me off a mere three weeks after our wedding, avoiding me as if I were a disease.” 

You stood in front of him, glaring daggers. “Don't you dare blame me.”

Aemond met your glare boldly, even though he felt a bit of unease at the truth of your words. He had started avoiding you, your touch stirring up things in him he had never felt before, and it had shaken him to the core. He took a deep breath.

“I did what I thought best at the time,” he replied calmly, “married you out of duty instead of desire, as is the lot of our kind-”

“So you do not desire me?” you said, cutting his words off. “Is that what you are saying?”

He stared at you, his frustration mounting. “You know that is not what I meant,” he almost hissed,” I am saying that desire and duty are two different things, as you surely must know.”

His anger was bubbling just beneath the surface, his fiery gaze meeting yours.

“All I wanted to do was fulfill my duties to my house,” he started, working hard to keep his voice measured. “Yet every single word coming from you is picking me apart-- criticising my every move, acting as if everything I do is to wrong you personally.”

He stood up himself, towering over you. “Do you despise me so? Or only wish to?”

You stared up at him, seeing the fire in his one eye. “I have tried my best to be a good husband to you,” he murmured, “to understand you, to listen to you-”

You just laughed drily, shaking your head. “Understand me? You have never tried to understand me.”

You didn’t back away, jotting a finger into the leather of his tunic. “You,” you hissed, “are what ruined this union.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, grabbing your wrist tightly in his hand. His patience was coming to an end. 

“Don’t you dare…” he warned you. “From the moment we wed, you have done nothing but scorn me. Nothing is ever good for you, is it? Not even the title of princess.”

“It was never about the title for me-!” you tried to retaliate, but his voice was already raising.

“I should have known a lady like you would never be pleased. I am still your prince, and you will show me respect.”

He tightened his hold on your wrist, his face hovering inches from yours. A heavy silence fell between the both of you, only the crackling of the fire being heard. 

You swallowed heavily as you stared up at him. You wanted to stay angry, to shout more at him, but you didn’t. 

“So you wish to veto this night?” you said simply, your gaze meeting his. You saw his one eye widen almost imperceptibly, the reminder of your duties almost making the rage draining away, making space for something else. 

Beneath the anger and frustration, he still felt a spark of… attraction for his wife in name alone. He stared at you for a moment, noticing your pulse fluttering rapidly at the base of your throat.

He let go of your wrist, instead tilting your face up towards his. 

“No,” he said, “I do not. Do you, however, wish to deny me again?”

Your eyes narrow at his fighting words, him clearly trying to get a rise out of you. You almost bite, wanting to say you haven’t denied him in a week’s time. But actions speak louder than words. 

You tug him closer by his tunic, smashing your lips against his. Aemond recovered quickly, kissing you back just as fiercely. His hands grab at your waist, pressing you back against the dining table and sending dishes clattering everywhere. 

His lips move down to your throat, kissing and licking and biting. He savors your taste, your moans, his hands eagerly tugging up the seemingly hundred layers of your skirts. 

His hands found your soft thighs, grazing and squeezing the skin. He paused for a moment, taking in your dilated pupils, the way your lips were parted. 

“What?” you hissed out when he stopped for a split second, making him growl in annoyance at your bratty tone. 

He moved quicker now, lifting your skirts fully up and pressing you further down onto the table. The moment he started spreading your thighs wide for him and fumbling with his belt, the servants started scattering out of the dining hall. Both of your knights closed the heavy doors of the dining hall to give you both some privacy, looking awkwardly away as they kept hearing moans and more plates falling down. 

Aemond kissed you again, silencing any further snide comments you may wished to say. He had no more patience for arguments tonight, not when your thighs were spread for him and he could see how the fabric of your smallclothes were soaked. 

Both you and Aemond hadn’t noticed the servants fleeing the scene, both of you too focused on Aemond slipping his fingers down and pushing your underwear to the side. 

“You’re awfully wet for an angry woman, princess..” he purred, making you glare at him.

“You talk too much for a man in front of a soaked cunt, my prince-” you retaliated, making him angrily shove his breeches down. He stroked himself twice, then slid inside of your heat.

Your head fell back, the stretch making you moan and gasp. Aemond hissed when he finally bottomed out in your slick heat, his lips and teeth finding the tops of your breasts peeking out from your gown. 

He moved slowly at first, pulling out until just his tip was left inside of you, before slamming back in. Every single moan that left your lips inflated his ego, made him feel like the most powerful man in the realm. 

He grabbed tighter onto your hips, his pace speeding up until he was hammering into you. The wooden table creaked under you, the spilled wine staining the expensive fabric of your dress, but all you could focus on was him.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down for another deep, sloppy kiss. “More,” you managed to pant out, Aemond’s lone eye boring into yours. 

He leaned in for another deep kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth and sliding it against yours. He didn't say anything, just starting to fuck harder into you. He made you suck on two of his fingers, his eye watching eagerly as your cheeks hollowed wantonly around them. 

He removed them with a pop, then slid the wet digits between your legs, rubbing harsh circles on your clit. You whined, your thighs started to shake and your hold on him tightening. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the dining room, his wet fingers against your cunt making obscene wet noises. Aemond groaned against your throat, his cock slamming into you. 

Your moans grew higher in pitch, until finally, you came with a cry of his name. Aemond groaned deeply, his hips stilling deep inside you as he came. 

You pant heavily, your eyes opening after a moment to see him already looking at you. He leaned down for a soft kiss, and you answered it slowly. It was soft, gentle, almost a glimpse into what could be, when you suddenly pulled your head back. 

“Get off,” you said, eyes no longer meeting his. Aemond rolled his eyes, pulling his member out of you and straightening out his clothing. He watched you get off the table, a slight limp in your step which filled him with pride. He watched you straighten your dress out, not bothering to help.

“I will see you tomorrow eve,” you said dismissively, “maybe.” 

And then you left the dining hall.

Aemond stared at your retreating figure, his earlier irritation flaring up again. Gods, you were insufferable. What man could endure such a wife without seeking pleasures elsewhere? Easy ones, silent ones.

He let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head as he poured himself a cup of wine. Annoying as you were, you were still his wife. And he was not his brother.

He was loyal. A dragon. And he would keep his vows, difficult as you may be.

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More days passed like this between you. Never talking during the day, and when you did, it was the usual bickering and complaining. In the evenings you would have each other, preferably anywhere but in bed. You couldn't even remember the last time you two had slept together in bed--probably before you started drifting apart. 

It was already late, and your husband had missed dinner. You had been irritated, to say the least, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. You had a nice dinner alone, now actually having the time to enjoy the food.

Afterwards, you went to your bedchamber, undressing for the day.

“Where is he?” you asked your maid, the woman looking up. 

“In his chambers, I believe, princess,” she replied, helping you undo the tight dress.

You just hummed, undressing completely before covering your now exposed skin with a cloak.

You just nodded once to your maid, before exiting the chamber and walking towards his.

You entered without knocking, walking through his larger chamber to where he was bathing. His eye was closed, his eyepatch removed. 

“It is evening,” you said simply, the servant that had been readying his soaps nearly tripping over himself as he ran out. 

Aemond’s one eye opened as you dropped your cloak to the floor, his gaze taking in your nudity. 

“So it is,” he just murmured, watching as you stepped into the warm water, joining him. Silently he made more room for you, his hands finding your waist when you settled on top of him. 

His eye was lidded as he watched you, your skin soft underneath his fingertips. You looked at him, too, noticing the tired look in his eyes. 

You wanted to ask him about his day, about the hardships and the struggles that had seemingly made him so tired, but your voice caught in your throat.

So you just leaned in, kissing him deeply. 

He met the kiss eagerly, his arms moving to encircle your waist. He pulled you closer, feeling the greediness in your kisses, your touches. The way your hands moved over his chest made him groan, water spilling out of the bathtub with your eager movements.

He easily lifted you up, positioning you above his heavy cock before thrusting up. You moaned at the stretch, both of you sitting still in the warm water. 

He looked up at your face, a proud grin spreading on his lips when he saw the sheer bliss on your face. And then he started moving.

He slowly thrust up, reaching all sorts of spots inside of you. You mewled softly, grinding down on his cock with eager movements. 

You looked perfect like this. 

He leaned his head down, eagerly taking one of your nipples into his mouth. His teeth grazed over one, and he swore he could feel you clench around his cock. 

You rested your forehead against his, an electric feeling passing between you. 

“Aemond,” you whispered, him just responding with a deep kiss. He held you close, thrusting harder into you, his bath nearly half empty now. He lifted a hand to squeeze your breast, pinching a nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“You get tighter when I do this,” he purred against your lips, and for once, you didn't have a sharp reply. You just moaned eagerly, starting to bounce harder on him.

“Wanna come,” you managed to pant out, and he immediately listened, moving his other hand between your legs.  

He looked right into your eyes, not wanting to miss the bliss that would soon contort your face. He loved seeing you come, the sight of your pleasure making you look even more beautiful to him. 

“Come,” he commanded against your lips, and his tone made you topple right over the edge. 

He groaned deeply when he felt your wet, velvet walls clench around his cock, his own release hitting him like a brick. He thrust a final time into you, before his thick cum coated your insides. 

“Fuck-” he gasped, your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He held you close as both of you came down from your high, the sloshing water slowly calming down around you.

And then there was a pleasant silence.

His arms wrapped back around your waist, keeping you close to him. And you rested against him, head buried in the crook of his neck. 

His fingers traced random figures on your back, and for a moment he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to be with you like this all the time. You fitted so perfectly in his arms, your body molding against his.

There were no cutting words, no barbed insults, just… tranquility. 

You lifted your head up, your tired eyes meeting his. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a second too long. 

Your eyes closed for a moment, before you gathered yourself. You moved off of him, feeling his soft cock slip out of you. You stood up in the bathtub, wobbling a bit before finding your footing and stepping out of the now cooled down water. You grabbed your cloak, not bothering to dry off. 

“I…” you start, trying to read his expression, but unable to. “I must go. Perhaps I will… perhaps I'll see you soon.”

And then you left quickly, a knot in your stomach. 

Aemond watched you leave, in no rush himself to exit the bath just yet. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he knew something in your heart had changed. The slightest crack in your tough exterior, the walls you had put up after his misdoings. 

And he smiled.

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The next two days between you had been… odd, to say the least. You didn't argue as often, but that was mostly because you had started avoiding him all together. That last night between you, the soft kiss he had placed on your forehead afterwards, the way he had held you close…

It was confusing. It made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want it to. So the next two days had been vetoed. The first time by him, and the second time by you. And then the third day arrived.

You were still deeply asleep when your bedchamber door slammed open. You sat up groggily, eyes squinting against the morning light when you watched your husband storm in. you had never seen him in your bedchamber before, both of you sleeping in separate beds, but now…

“It is a new day,” he said, and before you could even register his words, he was already kissing you deeply. 

All morning Aemond had been restless, the two days of barely seeing each other, him not even touching you once had driven him crazy. 

He knew you both usually had your ‘duties’ planned in the evenings, but he couldn't wait. Not a second longer. 

He parted from the kiss just long enough to look at you for a moment, noticing the way the slivers of sunlight that peeked behind the curtain played along your skin. The way your cheeks were still flushed and warm from sleep and the way your lips were slightly parted. You had a dazed look in your eyes, and he groaned before kissing you again, and again, and again. 

His kisses were filled with passion and need, his tongue sliding against yours and his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. When he finally parted for air, he just stared at you.

“Say it,” he growled softly as his lips moved towards your throat, “say you want me. Say you need me.”

You were only able to moan, your hands sliding over his back, nails slightly digging into his skin.

“Say it,” he repeated as he pulled back to stare down at you, “admit you want this as much as I do, every waking moment. Just us--as the Gods intended.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, his claiming words making you anxious and aroused at the same time. 

So you didn't answer. 

“Undress,” you replied instead, and luckily he listened. You watched with eager eyes as he started undressing, taking his sweet time in teasing you. Inch by inch his skin was revealed, a smirk playing on his lips at the way you stared at him. When he was finally naked, his arousal already hard and heavy, he stared hungrily at your form dressed in only a thin nightshift.

He helped you out of it, drinking in every inch of skin now revealed. 

And you were divine.

He threw the shift somewhere onto the floor, his gaze never leaving your body. He watched the way you were breathing heavily, your breasts rising and falling. He looked at your taut nipples, his hands moving on their own accord as they brushed over them. The softest mewl escaped you, making him pinch them for just a second before moving towards your abdomen.

Your skin was so soft, so warm from sleep, he had to press his lips against it. He pressed kisses around your navel, biting down on the soft flesh for a second.

“Say it,” he moaned again, moving back up your body until he was looking into your eyes. “I am yours, and yours alone.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, one you reciprocated eagerly. Your hands slid into his long hair, making him grind his cock against your thigh. 

“Say you are mine, and nothing shall part us again.”

It all felt so different. 

Being in an actual bed, the fact that it was morning, it felt so… domestic. 

“Aemond-” you were barely able to whisper before his hands were on you again.  

He groaned at the way you moaned his name, his control slipping further and further. You would be the death of him, and he would die a happy man.

Your eyes closed as his hand slid in between your thighs, his fingers gathering your slick before pressing deep inside.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. He slid them out to wrap his hand around his own aching cock, stroking himself a few times.

“You are mine now,” he said lowly, his tip teasing your entrance. 

“Say it.”

“I’m yours!” you finally whine, your arms wrapping around his neck and your thighs around his waist. “I’m yours, only yours, please-”

Aemond just groaned at your words, sinking deep inside of you in one thrust. When he began to move, he made sure to set a slow, deep pace, wanting to savor every single little moment.

He gazed down at your face, watching the way your eyes were closing in pleasure, your lips glossy and parted from his eager kisses.

“Look at me,” he whispered again, his eye on yours when you opened them again.

He smiled, noticing the way your own lips curved up slightly as well.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, before expertly taking you over the edge with a few quick swipes of his thumb over your pearl. He groaned at the sensation, filling your womb up to the brim.

You were breathing heavily, your eyes lidded with pleasure and the lingering remnants of your sleep. You looked a mess, and he couldn’t get enough. 

He slowly pulled out, watching with a sense of pride as his cum dripped out of you.

“Mine,” he whispered, holding you close. You could feel yourself beginning to drift off again, his lips pressing against your cheek, then your forehead. 

You had never felt like this. This safe. This… loved. It was frightening. 

Sleep finally took you, your body growing heavy in his arms. He looked down fondly at you, the early morning light making you look like an angel. He felt your warmth against him, heard the gentle sound of your breathing. He had never felt the domesticity, the rightness, of having a person he cared for so much safe in his arms. 

But with you, it felt natural. It felt right. Like you were meant to be in his arms, now and always. And that thought sent a flicker of unease through him. He wasn't a man filled with tenderness, with gentleness, and yet… when he looked down at your sleeping face…

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You wake up some hours later, alone. 

He had probably left to attend to his duties, yet you couldn't control the feeling of sadness overcoming you. You were supposed to be used to his lack of attention, should be thankful for it. But now, after what you had just shared… it felt wrong. 

After getting ready for the day with the help of your maids, you go through the same motions of your everyday life, not seeing him anywhere. Until dinner. 

He entered the dining hall after you were already seated, his gaze not meeting yours. He sat at his regular seat at the other end of the table, watching impassively as a servant filled up his wine cup. 

The memory of you clinging onto him was still fresh on his mind, but he was good at not showing it. He yearned to hold you again, to make love to you until your body grew tired and you fell asleep in his arms again. 

But things were still tense. And he didn't miss how you had struggled to say you were his, how he had to ask you time and time again just to say it.

It had been clear, he knew, that you weren’t his. Not really. 

No words were spoken during dinner. And when the last course had been eaten, he got up. His eye finally caught yours, and in that split second, he felt everything. 

He felt longing, and sadness, and love.

He nodded once, before exiting the dining hall in long strides. 

You watched him leave in silence, rooted to the chair you were sitting on. Your hands fidgeted with your cup, your lower lip caught between your teeth, until you finally decided to rush after him.

You lifted your skirts, almost running out of the grand dining hall to try and catch up with him. 

Only when you had rushed up the stairs, you saw him again. Aemond had halted when he heard light footsteps rushing towards him, turning to see you.

You were panting, clearly out of breath and something clearly bothering you.

He frowned, wondering if something had happened in the time he had left you alone, watching as you came to a halt in front of him.

Aemond reached out to touch your arm, his touch soft, sweet, gentle.

“What is it, my lady? You seem distraught.” he said gently, his brows furrowed.

“I love you,” you breathed out, your wide eyes staring into his. “I do not want rules and duties and obligations that tie our time together, I want you. I don’t want to argue, I don't want to sleep alone-”

You finally admitted the truth to him, your heart pounding. This was how you felt, the feeling overwhelming and consuming.

“I do not wish to hide it anymore. So if you truly despise me, tell me now and I shall never bother you again-”

You stared at your husband, trying to read his expression. You felt sick to your stomach, the silence stretching on and on.

Until he gently cupped your face in his warm hands, your name leaving his lips in a breathless whisper.

“You are my heart, the very blood in my veins,” he whispered against your lips, “and I could no sooner despise you than stop my own breath.” 

He leaned his forehead against yours, his single eye closing. “I am yours,” he said again, “forevermore.”

He leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to your lips. You let out a choked sob, your arms wrapping tightly around him, scared as if he may leave.

He held you even closer, pressing kisses against your temple and cheek. 

“I love you,” you whispered again. 

“And I you, more.”

[m4mmonthebest]

oooo i need a fic where the reader is slobbering on Chance’s dick and he’s a moaning mess. ALSO MUTUAL MASTURBATION WITH CHANCE OMG

All very valid and spicy options.

You'd be playing with Chance, a common occurrence by now, usually dealing with a lot of flirting during your playtime. You decide to be very bold when he says if you roll the dice over 18 you can do anything you want.

You roll a nat 20. You aren't sure if that was your luck or if Chance had something to do with it. Either way he seemed happy enough, congratulating you with a slight blush coating his face.

"Anything I want?" You ask.

"Anything you want! You roll the dice, all is fair game..."

"I want to blow you."

He stays in the same spot for one minute. You begin to worry until he gives you the biggest grin, glasses shining with determination.

"W-well! Who am I to deny your well earned action! .... Uh.... Guess I should... T-take my pants off haha..."

He tries to look as if he isn't being affected. After all he was the one that brought the whole thing up. He is usually very bold with his advances, but one thing is saying stuff and another thing is committing to it.

He slides his pants off rather clumsily. You thought he should've been wearing underwear although thinking about it you don't see the reason why.

You kneel in front of him, hands resting over his big thighs. Seems like all the flirting up to this point was working, as he is already half hard.

"Excited?" You say with a sultry voice.

"Yes!!! Um- I mean- yes. Yes I am."

You begin to tease his inner thighs, licking and biting softly into the sensitive skin. He can't help but to give small grunts. You go further up and up leaving a trail of kisses which just makes him get increasingly more worked up.

You're now face to face with his dick. Not long but rather chubby, although you know with your drive it will get a bit longer. You lick a stripe down his cock and he whimpers, though he quickly covers his mouth.

Masterful licks make his semi hard dick into a full erect one. It's glistening with your saliva, which now clumps at your hand as you stroke him slowly. You put the tip to your mouth and suck and lick. You can feel his muscles tense under your hand resting on his thigh. He lets out small moans, cute ones which just make you want to see him break even more.

You pick up the pace, your head bobbing into the length as your hand massages his balls. He becomes increasingly louder, calling out your name in the process, he begins to pant, reminding you of an excited puppy.

"Hm! Ah-ngh...."

Looking into his eyes you can see his dilated pupils looking straight at you, his face is entirely red, and covered in sweat. He places his hand on top of your hair, not daring to pull on it.

You command him to keep his hands to his sides, which he quickly does apologizing.

You take him deeper and deeper, each time eliciting deeper and whinier moans. He bucks his hips on accident and the look you gave him made him shiver.

"S-sorry... I'm sorry..."

You decide to let it go this instance, but you are determined to overstimulate him now. As a little punishment of course.

You begin to concentrate on the head of his cock, which makes him twitch and jump on his seat, his hands forming fists on each side of his thighs.

"Ah-! P-please-That's-too much!!"

You keep abusing his head, stroking the rest of his cock faster and faster. You can feel it pulsating, ready to burst at any moment, you are also able to hear it, as his moans are louder than ever.

"I-I'm gonna c-"

You stop every single movement.

He looks like a kicked puppy, which is cute to you.

"Beg me to let you cum." You begin to stroke him slowly, painfully so.

"P-please..."

"Please what?"

"Please let me cum! I'll be good!! P-please? Please! I won't m-make ah! Make you angry ah! Again!"

You can see tears forming on his eyes as he bites his lip.

You decide to spare him, for now, and begin to work your magic again. It's not difficult to bring him to the brink again, quite easy actually.

He cums inside your mouth, which you don't swallow as you have a better idea. You caress his face and kiss him deeply, your tongue playing with his, sharing his own seed with it. He moans deeply into the kiss, liking the degrading bit of it all.

"Good boy Chance. Good boy."

(Not sure if I will be making the other one you asked, but I'll think about it! Please enjoy)

[cantfindmissroxy]

My Girl

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Slight jealousy, creepy dude, unwanted flirting, violence, stranger named “Derrick” being very pushy, drinking, Fem reader, use of pet names (doll, My Girl)

Summary: After bringing the team to bar for some much needed time away from your many missions, you end up on the receiving end of some very much unwanted attention, Bucky steps in.

You had practically begged Bucky to let the team all go out to a bar together. Mainly just because you deeply needed a drink but, the last month or so had been nonstop missions and runs and you figured everyone just needed a fun night.

Tonight he had finally caved.

There you all were, the bar was small and somewhat private. Bucky had figured it would be better to find a less popular one to avoid any public attention for one night.

It was definitely a sight to see. Ava and Yelana had gotten absolutely wasted and were now attempting to do Karaoke. Bob stood off to the side just watching, a small smile on his face. Alexi had taken it upon himself to challenge every person in this bar to an arm wrestling match, including the bartender who was definitely not as amused with this as Alexi was.

Bucky had been practically attached to your hip the whole night. The two of you had been sitting together at the bar, Bucky's arm wrapped around waist, your head gently resting on his shoulder while you watched John try to convince Bob to join in on karaoke.

Bucky's phone had started going off, he let out an annoyed sigh staring down at his phone like it had personally offended him.

“Sorry doll, I’ve gotta take this. I’ll be right back.” He spoke, getting up from his seat and quickly placing a kiss to the top of your head and stepping out momentarily.

You turned your chair watching how Yelena and Ava were now damn near wrestling for the microphone. You giggled, completely unaware of the man who had come and taken the seat where Bucky just was.

You had decided that attempting to make small talk with the bartender was infinitely worse than just sitting in silence waiting for you boyfriend to come back so instead you just turned to watch the rest of the team.

Alexi and Yelena were drunkenly yelling the lyrics to American Pie, meanwhile Bob was currently attempting (and unfortunately failing) to mediate some sort of argument between Ava and John.

You smiled to yourself quietly, so wrapped up in this moment that you hadn’t noticed the new presence sitting next to you.

“Are you here with all of ‘em?” A voice questioned beside you. You jumped slightly not expecting someone to be so close to you.

“Holy shit- I didn’t even realize you were there.” You giggled nervously, hand raking through your hair.

“Oh! I’m so sorry ma’am, just saw you sittin’ over here on your own, figured you could use the company.” The man chuckled quietly.

Your nerves calmed slightly, he seemed nice enough so you continued to chat with him. “Also uhm- yeah I am with them, sorry forgot to answer you earlier.” You giggled quietly gesturing over to the team.

The man just smiled politely and nodded. “Oh uhm- I’m Derrick by the way.” He said putting a hand out.

You took it “(Y/N), Nice to meet you.” you replied.

“(Y/N)? Wow that’s a pretty name, it suits you.” He said shooting you a wink. You internally cringed but decided to brush it off.

The two of you sat there in awkward silence. You stared down at your hands, nervously fiddling with the bracelet

Bucky had given you for your One year anniversary. He had your favorite flower engraved on the top of it, the date of your anniversary on the bottom. The memory of that day made you smile to yourself quietly.

“Why don’t I buy you a drink?” The man piped up, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You looked up at Derrick, you questioned if you should accept his offer or not but he ended up making the decision for you before you could answer.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat not enjoying where this interaction was going. The bartender Passed him the drinks and Derrick handed you yours. You gave him a polite smile and set it down beside you.

You visibly relaxed as you saw Bucky walk back in through the door, his eyes scanned the room finally landing on you. He smiled, and you felt your heart beating faster in your chest.

Bucky's eyes landed on Derrick who was still sitting just a bit too close to you for his own liking. His eyes narrowed and his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

He sat down at the chair on the other side of you, his right arm resting comfortably around your waist. He smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Derrick crossed his arms glaring daggers at Bucky. You didn’t notice it but Bucky definitely did.

“Sorry I was gone so long, doll I just had to take care of some shit for our next mission.” He spoke, vibranium hand tilting your chin up slightly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

He pulled away, eyes still locked on your lips. Derrick cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Soooo (Y/N)? Who’s your friend?” Derrick questioned shooting Bucky an unamused glare.

You opened your mouth to speak but Bucky answered instead. “Awh did my girl really not tell you about me?” He pulled you closer, arm still in its rightful place around your waist. His Vibranium hand brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

Derrick was visibly annoyed at the nickname Bucky had given you. Suddenly he stood up grabbing your arm, a snarky look on his face. Derrick pulled you towards

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private?” He spoke through clenched teeth. His grip on you was painful as he began pulling you away from Bucky.

Bucky shot up from his seat, his fists clenching. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

You tried to pull your arm away, but when he didn’t let go you sunk your teeth into his forearm.

He screamed and let go of you. His hand now cradling his bloody arm as he snarled at you. “You fucking bitch!”

His voice rang through the bar and suddenly all eyes were on the three of you.

Bucky put himself between you and the now enraged man. His face had stoned entirely, eyes cold and calculating.

Derrick charged at him, swinging his fist towards Bucky's face.

His face paled as Bucky's vibranium hand closed around his fist. Derrick attempted to pull away, eyes darting towards the door but to no avail.

Bucky grabbed the man’s collar pulling him closer. Derrick stood there cowering in fear.

“you put your hands, or even try to look at my girl again and I will make sure nobody finds your body. Am I clear?” Bucky spoke, his tone unwavering.

Derrick nodded vigorously, visibly shaking. “Y-Yes! Yes s-sir! Please let me go!” he yelped.

Bucky sighed and looked back at you seemingly waiting for you to give him the ok. You nodded and Bucky turned back to face Derrick once more. He shoved him towards the door, arms crossed as he watched him scramble out of the bar.

His vibranium hand reached up, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed. He turned to face you, his gaze softening.

“I’m sorry you had to see that Doll” Bucky said softly. His hands move to cup your face. His touch was so gentle you could’ve sworn you were made of glass.

His soft blue eyes scanned over you to make sure you were ok. His shoulders relaxed as he pulled you into his chest. A warm hand cradling the back of your head.

Bucky placed a kiss to the top of your head and you finally felt your body relax.

“I’ve got you, you're my girl and I promise you I will never, ever let anybody do anything like that to you again.” He whispered into your hair as his head rested on yours.

You gave him a small smile, looking up to meet his beautiful blue eyes. “Is that a promise Barnes?”

He chuckled softly, his hand tilting your chin up ever so slightly. “That’s a promise, Doll.” He smiled before placing a tentative kiss to your lips.

“Now, how about I buy my girl a drink and then you and I can have a little fun of our own when we get home?” He asked, his voice low in your ear.

“Sounds absolutely perfect.” You smiled.

A/N: Hi my darlings! I’m so sorry this took so long to post i’ve been extremely busy as of late but i’ll hopefully be able to come back to posting now! I hope you enjoy! <3

[vxnillabxn]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ hurt/comfort, a biiiit suggestive! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost!

﹙♡﹚a little mood booster for anyone who needs it! ♡

this month has been awful.

lots of things to think about, lots of things to take care of, lots of things to do…

to say you were overwhelmed was an understatement.

you usually can handle everything, but it took a toll on your overall health and, unfortunately, on your self-esteem as well.

when you came back home, you dropped your bag, kicked off your shoes, and didn't even bother to greet poor mephisto, who tilted its head at your lack of enthusiasm.

now, when it came to you, sylus became hyper-aware.

he wanted every single inch of floor under your feet to be smooth.

he wanted your air to be pure.

he wanted your body stress-free.

but, at the same time, he was always respectful of your independence and strength.

in his eyes, there's no one stronger than you.

you're resilient, and he knows you can handle everything you go through.

however, if he could make it easier for you, he would absolutely find a way, no matter the cost.

“hi.”

you mumble when you enter the dining hall. there was a banquet before your eyes, but you didn't feel like eating at all.

sylus stood up from his seat and made his way to you.

“hello, my love.”

he leans down and tilts your head up gently.

you poor thing… you look crushed, tired, exhausted.

his eyes darken, yet he doesn't comment on it.

“what do you feel like doing, sweetie?”

ah, of course he knew you wouldn't want to eat. you look up at him, grateful that he didn't force you to.

“…rest.”

you whisper, voice small, worn out.

he doesn't say anything else. in one quick motion, you're up in his arm. just one. he uses the other to cup your cheek tenderly.

you close your eyes, feeling at least 5% of the stress already leaving your body.

he takes you to the bathroom.

he undresses you.

he guides you into the shower.

you trust him. he knows your entire routine by now: how much shampoo you use, whether or not you use conditioner, how much body wash you prefer, if you'd rather use a sponge or your hands.

he takes care of you, and, for a moment, your mind is blank.

no chaos, no responsibilities, no noise —besides the water cascading down both your bodies.

he pats you down with a soft, clean towel, and finally takes you to bed after doing the same himself.

“sy, my sleepwear…”

but he doesn't listen. he gently pushes you down and hugs you from behind, pulling you closer by the waist.

your bare bodies are close to each other, and even when you feel absolutely comfortable with him, you still wonder…

is he in the mood?

you don't want to be mean, but truly, that's the last thing you can think about.

“sylus…”

he hums in response, but stays still.

his arms remain wrapped around you, and he softly inhales the scent of your hair.

“worry not, kitten. not tonight.”

you sigh in relief and lean back against him softly. you're still a bit tense, but having him so close, almost like a warm cocoon… makes you feel safe.

and the fact that he is always so understanding is even better.

“you are so strong, my love.”

he says.

it's simple, truly.

sudden, seemingly out of nowhere.

it shouldn't hit so hard.

but it does.

it really does.

you break down before you even register it, and he's there to kiss your nape, your tear-stained cheeks, your temples, your shoulder.

he whispers praises, lots of sweet, truthful praises and words of affirmation.

he repeats how strong you are, how capable, how intelligent.

but he also makes sure to remind you of other important things.

your health, the limits you set, your boundaries…

to be gentle with yourself, to focus on what you want to do, to be a bit selfish from time to time, and to learn how to say no.

you can't help but nod, listening to him as quiet sobs escape your lips.

“rest, my love. allowing others to help won't make you any less strong.”

you know he's right, so you agree. you soon turn around and hug him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

he caresses your back and closes his eyes, hoping his body warmth and the heartbeat that resonates through all his veins manage to calm you down.

and soon enough, you grow sleepy.

for once, your head is empty. free. careless.

he'll make sure you know, today and always, that no matter what, he'll take care of anything you allow him to.

he wipes the tears from your face with his thumb.

“don't you think you'll escape breakfast tomorrow, sweetie.”

he softly says, and you smile.

he doesn't like when you don't eat.

“i promise i won't.”

“mhm. good.”

a last kiss to your forehead, and you're fast asleep under his embrace.

100% stress-free.

and tonight, at least tonight, you convince yourself you deserve this.

but he already planned how to make you feel deserving of the best, each and every night if he has to.

[nqrancia]

hellooo! i’m currently rewatching stardust crusaders (my comfort part fr) and watching episode 18, the Sun, reminded me of how cute Jotaro is (the scene where he’s laughing? like full on laughing without being nonchalant? ugh, my heart)

so can i pleasee request Jotaro, Johnny and Kakyoin with a reader who likes making them laugh? thank youuu

𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : jotaro kujo, noriaki kakyoin, johnny joestar

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : how would they act with an s/o that likes to make them laugh

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : some angst in jotaro’s (sorry guys)

𝐚/𝐧 : my first jotaro and johnny requests?? i love johnny so much it’s not even funny anymore :( please enjoy!

𝐉𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 𝐊.

✦ | Jotaro is the toughest nut to crack when it comes to any situation, it’s rare that you see a panicked or happy look on his face. Receiving a laugh from him is an even greater feat to conquer than defeating DIO, which is a wild statement to make, but true nonetheless. Sometimes, it feels like your efforts to make him crack are fruitless and creates a disheartening feeling in your gut. He sees this, despite you trying to hide it. Though he doesn’t say it often, he finds that your attempts do warm his heart even though he bares no smile on his face.

───

Whilst you, Jotaro, and Polnareff sat waiting for Mr. Joestar’s and Avdol’s arrival; you grew terribly bored. While Luxor was a beautiful place, there wasn’t much time to waste. The deadline to save Mrs. Holy was becoming slimmer and slimmer by the day, and you could tell Jotaro and Mr. Joestar were growing more anxious by the mere thought. Mrs. Holy was a sweet woman, and an even more wonderful mother. It was saddening to know that this was the fate life had bestowed upon her, and you were going to assist your companions as much as you could prevent the worst case scenario. You had to stay optimistic.

You could sense the tension in the air, a majority of it coming from Jotaro. From your spot on the ground, you scooted yourself closer to where he stood leaning against the wall. You then muttered, “I’m so hungry I could eat a Hol Horse.”

A glance was thrown at Jotaro; no reaction.

Jokes. That was what got you by, making others happy by amusing them or making them laugh. Seeing the look of joy on someone’s face from something you said made you the most happy, the most satisfied. It was odd, for someone like Jotaro, a stoic man, to be your boyfriend. You rarely saw him break his hardened expression, but maybe that was what you liked about him. He was a challenge.

But, you couldn’t help but ask, “Do… do any of my jokes make you laugh?”

He didn’t answer.

“Don’t say anything then.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

A few moments of awkward silence passed between you, before Jotaro decided to speak up. “Your jokes are bad, but that doesn’t mean they make me feel that way. I know I’m shit at showing how I feel, but I’m…”

He sighed, “I’m glad that you keep trying, even when it doesn’t elicit the reaction you hope for.”

“Jotaro…”

With newfound confidence, you cheerfully announced, “I‘ll keep trying then. I’ll get you one day, I swear on it!”

Now, that got him to crack a smile, a small one. A step in the right direction.

───

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐊.

✦ | Kakyoin laughs at your jokes because they are so absurd that he can’t help but laugh at them. They are so simple, yet they manage to somehow make him die from laughing. Your other ways of trying to make him crack a smile also include messing with your other traveling companions, especially Polnareff and Mr. Joestar. A part of him feels bad for laughing at his friend's expense, but it manages to make him chuckle nonetheless.

───

It had been another long day on the journey to Cairo, Egypt. After having been attacked midair, the group decided it was best to attempt to drive again instead. Joseph was once again the driver, Avdol took shotgun, Jotaro sat in the right middle seat, Polnareff taking the left, and you along with Kakyoin in the very back. If it hadn’t been for the knowledge of your end goal for this journey, you would’ve been happy that you got to go on a road trip with your friends. But, every road trip had its moments.

There was only one word to describe your current mood; bored. Hours had passed since you first got on the road, and several more still awaited you. You needed more entertainment than Slug Bug, as fun as the game was. Landing a nice hit on Polnareff was always satisfying, especially when he was being his most annoying. A sigh left you as you gazed out of the window, searching for any interesting scenery. The only image you got was more sand dunes, the same sight you had seen for the past hours. How wonderful.

Luckily, a fly flew by your window soon after. Quickly, you shouted “Slug Bug!”, slamming a fist into Polnareff’s shoulder. He released a pained groan, reaching his hand to rub the freshly hit area. Then, the two of you began playfully bickering, which led to not so playful bickering. Soon, mean phrases and names were being used until you abruptly blurted, “You look easy to draw.”

An offended look became present on Polnareff’s face, scoffing, “I do not!”

You turned to your boyfriend, who sat quietly in the seat next to you reading an adventure novel. He was a pleasant person to have along on this journey, and an even more pleasant person to have on the road. He was observant, helpful, and calm; unlike certain other people. “Hey, Noriaki.”

He looked up from his book to meet your gaze, “Yes, love?”

“Watch this.”

You rummaged through your backpack you brought with you on your journey, then pulled out a small notebook and a black ink pen. It wasn’t much, but it got the job done.

Then, you began to sketch. First you drew the base shapes, then the eyes, then Polnareff’s hair. You were initially light with your pen marks, but they slowly began to show more confidence as you continued to draw as simplistic as possible.

Kakyoin observed as you did so, taking note of the absurdity of the whole situation. Both your’s and Polnareff’s personalities tended to clash more often than not, each time resulting in a ridiculous argument or prank being pulled on the other. It was silly, he had to admit, yet it made him crack a smile all the same.

With a click of your pen, you flipped your notebook to show the car your drawing. “Done.”

The offended look on the Frenchman’s face appeared once again, this time twice as horrified. He began commenting on the fact his hair shape was not “real life accurate” as you were trying not to break down laughing at his misfortune, which Kakyoin could not blame you for. He was trying hard not to as well.

“It appears you were correct,” he chuckled, hiding his grin behind his hand. “Sorry, Polnareff.”

“I’m never sitting with you guys in the back ever again.”

───

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉.

✦ | He believes that you and Gyro should have your own traveling comedy duo, you two would make a lot of money. Your jokes and bits make the race much less boring and more upbeat to experience, you’ve even made Hot Pants crack a barely noticeable smirk. That was more than most could say. On the other hand, he appreciates that you’re trying to bring more light into his day by trying several ridiculous ways to make him laugh, even if they don’t always land the way you want them to. He smiles just because you’re trying so hard.

───

Long had the day been. Your days of travel across the country should have been uneventful, yet they became more and more so as the race progressed. Everyday, it seemed like someone new was after you and your companions, whether it was in the name of the President or of their own volition. Some were less annoying than others, but that Diego Brando just seemed to rub you the wrong way. That also seemed to be the case for Johnny and Gyro, the latter being the perfect gossip buddy yet your comedic twin?

Johnny had commented many times on how much the two of you would get paid for doing traveling comedy shows, and you weren’t opposed to the idea. Having a fun job after this race with your boyfriend and closest friend sounded perfect, but you know that wouldn’t be able to happen. You knew that, Johnny knew that. In your possession were the body parts of a saint’s corpse, a specimen that could perform miracles beyond your imagination. It could relieve past sins and even allow one to walk again; it made your Johnny find a reason to keep going.

Those dark thoughts liked to lurk in the back of your mind, but they never made you lose your optimism for the future nor the present. Traveling with your two favorite people made the journey less lonely and much more fun to experience, even with the occasional attack for the corpse parts. Nights were filled with laughter, dinners were never eaten alone, and supply runs felt more like games of tag rather than a need.

Tonight was no different. It had been about 10 minutes since the three of you decided it was time to settle down for the night, and finding a decent spot to set up camp was proving to be more difficult than you desired. Your horse's exhaustion was beginning to show as they began to slow their steps more and more, once you settled you were going to make sure they each got a nice treat. Then a glance was thrown at your companions, who seemed just as exhausted and a bit antsy.

In attempts to raise their spirits, you decided to test some new material. It had been something you had been cooking up for a while in secret, even from Gyro.

You brought your horse a touch closer to Slow Dancer, who lagged slightly behind Valkyrie. Then, you leant over a little to catch Johnny’s attention. “Hey, Johnny. What kind of horses come out after dark?”

He rose an eyebrow in confusion, “I don’t know, what?”

“Nightmares!”

Though it could have been the exhaustion getting to him, Johnny let out a breathy chuckle, “That has got to be the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard.”

You pointed to him, smiling gleefully. “But, it got you to at least chuckle! You’re cute when you smile like that.” You giggled, adding a wink on the end just to test him.

The country boy’s cheeks flushed lightly, softly shaking his head. Just as he was trying to refocus on the task at hand, “Wait, wait! I have another, would you like to hear?”

“Sure.”

Your face inched closer to his, “How do you make an Appaloosa?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Ya shake the tree!” Another absolutely abysmal punchline, yet it still made the man laugh.

You triumphantly threw your fists in the air, “Woohoo, another smile from my pretty boy!”

Up ahead, your other companion gagged, “Can you two stop being so romantic, you’re gonna make me throw up from a sugar rush!”

@𝐧𝐪𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐚 ݁₊˚⊹☆ - please do not translate or plagiarize my works.

[gojos-version]

Current boyfriend prank.

Pairings- Boyfriend! Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings- Angst and fluff, Satoru being dramatic

Summary- Current boyfriend prank I’ve been seeing on TikTok!

Word count- 819 words!

A/n- Don’t worry lovelies I’m working on a smut at the moment so you’ll be fed! Hope you all enjoy this in the meantime! Take care and have a lovely day<3😼

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

You grin, setting up your camera in front of you, positioning yourself and calling Satoru over; briefly explaining that you’re both opening blind boxes together.

You click record and try to act as nonchalant as possible. You got this.

“Hey guys I’m here with my current boyfriend-“ A loud gasp interrupts your sentence, your eyes flickering to Satoru’s figure next to yours in the frame; a horrid look on his face. He quickly fixes his expression and looks at you on the phone.

“I’m here with my current girlfriend and we’re gonna be opening blind boxes together today.” A devilish grin tugs at his face and you side eye him as he quickly reverts his face back to his nonchalant expression; shooting you an innocent look.

“Today we’ve got some hello kitty mochi blind boxes! I really want cinnamon roll but honestly they’re all way too cute I’ll be happy with anything!” You grin at your screen and hold the box in frame, giggling mentally when you see Satoru’s slight pout. Hah not so nonchalant are we now. You internally wait to see when he’d crack- knowing Satoru it won’t be long at all.

When you’re mid opening the box Satoru stops opening his and gives you the nastiest side eye- burning holes in the side of your head. You swallow the frog in your throat and try to stop your lips from twitching, to not give him any satisfaction.

“FINE! If im only your temporary boyfriend go to your new boyfriend and get him to open hello kitty blind boxes with you.” He pouts shooting up from his seat next to you and walking- more like running- off to your shared bedroom.

You blink at the camera wordlessly before stifling a laugh, taking it with you as you follow his footsteps.

“Baby?” You say quietly, no response.

You huff a sigh as you open the door softly revealing Satoru wrapped up in your blankets like a sausage roll, covering his head as he hugs his knees.

“My love?” Your soft voice rings out and you swear you hear a sniffle.

“Go away.” His voice sounds..watery? Has he been crying? Guilt washes over you and you forget you were recording, lowering your phone a bit; seeeing a bit of Satoru in the frame.

“Baby..I’m sorry it was a prank-“, “Mean! Don’t do that again. I hate your pranks. Really hurt.” His voice muffled, wordlessly you close your phone and set it down, crawling on the bed behind him.

You sit on your knees behind him and put your hand on his shoulder. “I’m really sorry, baby. Won’t do that ever again.” With that he slowly inches his body towards yours and your heart breaks seeing his blue eyes puffy.

“Sorry for being dramatic.” His voice was quieter than usual. Too quiet. Your eyes soften and you press a soft kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologise, ‘Toru. It’s not dramatic.” With that his lips follow yours as if silently asking for a kiss, so you press your lips softly against his.

The kiss is soft-passionate- but so soft, any slight movement paranoid you. You both pull away to breath when your lungs ache, your eyes widening in surprise and a squeak leaving your lips when he suddenly pins you to the bed, slithering his arms under your back with the blankets now covered around the both of you like a massive Swiss roll.

Satorus body and forehead flush against yours, his bright blue eyes boring into yours. “My pretty girl..” He murmurs, going in to peck more kisses across your lips and jaw.

“Am I still your current boyfriend?” He pulls away not breaking eye contact, “Baby, it was a prank you’re my permanent boyfriend.” He grunts and shoves his head into your neck, just hugging you silently. You play with his hair softly, letting out a low hum.

Suddenly making you jump his head shoots up, “No wait I am your current boyfriend because I’m going to be your husband. Permanently.”, A smile pulls at your lips and you cup his face; “That’s right in a way. You’re permanently my boyfriend and permanently my future husband. You’re not on a free trial.” After you say that it’s like a lightbulb lights up in his head.

He pecks your face in kisses from your cheeks to your jaw to finally on your lips. Yeah, Satoru can be very dramatic but he’s your dramatic man. You wouldn’t change it for the world.

When you posted your TikTok it blew up- You and your boyfriend cuddling and laughing at the comments.

Congratfuckyoulations

I want a man who’s not afraid to show his emotions😭

Awww so cute..! Annabelle get them..

The way he looks at her..😭 ho..

I love when hot people date hot people.

YALL TALKING ABOUT HIM BUT I WANNA KNOW WHAT WAS IN THE BLIND BOXES WHO DID YOU GETTTT

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Masterlist<3

Au Masterlist<3

Taglist

@my-own-au-my-way

[jjoelmillers]

sherlock holmes - confessions

♫ billy joel - just the way you are

are we still alive in 2025, sherlock fandom? i have a gift for u <3

main masterlist | blog playlist

The four walls of your flat were suffocating. Every day was the same thing, over and over and it was growing tiresome. You couldn't remember the last time you had stopped to just relax. Work kept you at your desk long after most others would have finished, and it was an ever growing pile of papers. Sighing, you stood to stretch. 

"Jesus," you muttered to yourself as your back cracked. "I should move more, my god."

"Yes, you should."

Jumping, you spun round with a hand on your chest and wide-eyed. The surprise of the voice caught you off guard. 

"Fucking hell, Sherlock, could you not have knocked or something?"

"Didn't think I had to," Sherlock mused, his face unassuming but with a quick, small smile at you. Not uncommon for him, but you knew when he was actually in a mood and when he was just being Sherlock. He continued, going about his business as he spoke. "Why are you so jumpy, anyway? You normally hear me even when I'm quiet."

"I know," you sighed, moving to sit on your couch. "I've just been so swamped with work, I think my brain has just stopped functioning. I am running on fumes right now."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at you, seemingly unimpressed with your current state. Not out of annoyance, more out of care. He cared about you, and he hated to see you not taking proper care of yourself. Sherlock sat next to you on the couch, leaving the seat in the middle as a gap.

"You're overworking again, that's why you feel so bad. Take a break."

Turning to the curly haired man, you scowled a little and raised your eyebrows. 

"I'd thought about it, but upon realising how much I have left to do, it wouldn't be wise to lose my job over a break. I really have to get it done."

Your voice sounded exhausted, and Sherlock couldn't stand it. He watched on as you put your head in your hands, leaning on your elbows as they dug into your legs. Letting out a harsh sigh, you bit your bottom lip in frustration. Feeling a hand on your back, rubbing gentle lines up and down, your gaze turned round to the man beside you. 

"Relax," Sherlock said, his voice far softer than usual. This was probably the most emotion you'd seen from him in a while. He only got like this when you were really bad, or crying. You laughed, partly out of disbelief. 

"And how do you expect me to do that?" you asked, not unkindly. The detective pondered for a moment, before leaning back. 

"Come here."

Narrowing your eyes, you obeyed and moved to the seat over. Sherlock reached out and pulled you into him, so you rested in his side. One arms wrapped itself around your shoulders, the other one holding your head to his chest. His thumb ran gently along your jaw as he held you, and on instinct you wrapped your own arms around his waist. Listening to his heartbeat, you found yourself relaxing more and more. 

You didn't want to break the silence, it had become comfortable between you both as you lay there with him. Sherlock hadn't moved a muscle, allowing you to adjust and get settled however you need to. It was his silent admission that he was there, that you weren't alone and you had someone to help you with the stress. 

It had been like this between you both for a while, though there was no label. It wasn't romantic by any means, there was no kissing or other things involved. It was just intimacy, one being there when the other needed them. It was hugs and cradling each other, soothing panic attacks and fighting away tears. It was long chats into the night and midnight walks through the moonlit streets of North London. It was holding hands and smiles in times of happiness, and fighting each others demons in times of sadness. 

It was a strange relationship, but it worked for you both.

Sherlock felt you get heavier, knowing you were beginning to fully relax into him. Leaning his head down, he buried his face into your hair and placed a soft kiss atop your head, murmuring something you couldn't hear properly. Your grip around his waist loosened a little, and you rested your hand against his chest beside your head. 

"It's okay," you heard Sherlock whisper, almost inaudibly. "I've got you."

This had gone beyond previous times of help between you, it felt far more loving than ever. You weren't about to voice it and potentially ruin the moment, but it felt different. It felt as though something had shifted in this relationship, and as you lay there you began to think back to the past week. 

Sherlock had become more protective of you lately.

You noticed first when it came to a case he was working on, something about a man that was kidnapping people and asking for ransoms. You didn't know fully, you weren't allowed to. That wasn't normal, he always let you in on the case details because sometimes you could help and spot things he may miss, offer a different view and Sherlock appreciated your mindset and perspective. But this one he said was too risky, and he didn't want you hurt. He let John help, but not you.

The second was on one of your late night walks. He insisted on holding your waist and keeping you close to him the entire way. Sherlock said he had heard of some rather unsavoury people hanging around, but you hadn't and when you enquired about it, neither had John. One might say it was just an excuse to hold you, but Sherlock wasn't the type of man who would make something up just to do that, right?

The last time was now. 

Here you were, lay in the arms of the worlds only consulting detective. He was her with you, soft and gentle and a mile away from the Sherlock he presented to the world. Behind closed doors, inside the confines of your home, he was a different person. The Sherlock Holmes that Scotland Yard dealt with was not your Sherlock. For the most part, he was helpful and calm and kind. He was still forward and honest, and very much himself, but there was a difference you felt whenever you were alone with him.

"Something on your mind?" Sherlock's voice broke through your thoughts, and you lifted your head to look at him. 

"Oh, no," you lied. "Nothing, what makes you say that?"

"You've been fiddling with my shirt for the past two minutes, unbuttoning and rebuttoning that one there."

His voice was matter of fact as he nodded down to his currently unbuttoned shirt. Your eyes widened as you redid it and sat up, embarrassment settling in.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry! I didn't even-"

"It's not a problem," Sherlock cut you off, taking your hands in his own larger ones. "I'm not mad, I just wanted to check you were alright. You fiddle a lot when you're anxious or overthinking."

Had he noticed that all this time? He wasn't wrong by any means. You knew you got fidgety when nervous, or when your mind ran away with itself. Your fingers would find anything to play with, be it the hem of your shirt, a pen or anything you could get your hands on. Or in this case, Sherlock's shirt buttons. As long as it stopped you from biting your nails, that was all that mattered. But he had picked up on that, and taken it into account. 

 "No, I'm alright. I just got sidetracked with thinking about us, and all of this that we do."

Sherlock said nothing, but nodded as a sign for you to continue. You shuffled on the sofa, turning to face him a little better.

"I don't know, I don't know what I mean, Sherlock. I'm just thinking about us, because I love what we have here. I like that I can rely on you, and you care. And I'm glad you have me to help you when you need that same comfort. I've been thinking more about how much you care, and it feels like in the past week that you've started to show me a lot more care than you did."

Sherlock nodded again, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face. 

"You aren't wrong," he answered, placing his hand on your thigh. "I have shown you far more care than I have ever done as of late."

"Why?" you asked, in a voice so sweet and soft that Sherlock stuttered for a second. That never used to happen before. 

"I- Well, I- Things have changed for me now." Sherlock leaned forward so his face was closer to you, meeting you head on. His hand cupped your face, sitting comfortably there as his elbow leaned on the back of your sofa. He started again, and you listened like you never have done.

"I've realised I feel more for you than I ever have done for someone else. I care about you, but not like I care for John. My thoughts every morning are of you, and before I sleep it's always you. I always text you after work to make sure you got home safe, I'm here on call whenever I'm needed because I realised that you are exactly what I've needed."

Too stunned to speak, your mouth sat open a little as you took in his words. If you'd blinked you could have missed it, but for a second Sherlock's eyes left yours and dropped down to your lips briefly. Absentmindedly, his thumb traced along your bottom lip as his eyes regained contact with your own.

You just took in the moment. Sherlock Holmes was sat in front of you, looking at you with all the love he could hold and you couldn't think of how to respond. His touch felt like fire now, and you knew what he meant when he said he cared for you.

You were pulled away from your mind when he spoke your name, so low and full of love. 

"If you-"

"I feel the same, Sherlock." It was your turn to cut him off as he blinked a few times, his brows furrowing just a little. He was expecting rejection or dismissal of his confession. In his mind, who would want anything to do with him romantically? He hadn't really done it before, he had no idea how to handle a relationship. But, he felt something for you. With you, he would try. But hearing you say you felt the same unleashed another round of feelings for him.

Sherlock leaned forwards and took your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, his face so close to your own. Closing your eyes, you were expecting him to kiss you. Instead, you were met with a whisper as he leaned in to your ear, lips brushing against your skin lightly.

"May I kiss you?"

His request and asking for consent warmed your heart, even in his most vulnerable and open state he was still a proper gentleman. 

"Yes," you breathed out, and he placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you close, allowing his lips to find your own. The kiss was feverish, strong emotions being pulled from you both and sunk entirely into this one moment. Your hands found his hair, fingers scraping along his scalp as he held you close. Sherlock's arms found a home around your waist as he hoisted you up, onto his lap. There was no way he hasn't done this before, you thought. 

Breathless and in a state of bliss, you both pulled back to look at one another, eyes shining with a new found adoration. Sherlock had a lazy smile on his face, looking up at you as you held his face in your hands. You smiled back, pecking his lips again before speaking. 

"Is this what you want?" you asked, making sure he didn't regret what he'd just done. 

A look was shared between you both for a moment; a look that stated the obvious. If this did go ahead, it would be dangerous, and you would be a target for anyone wanting to get to Sherlock. He vowed to always keep you safe, and you trusted him to do so. You knew the risks and so did Sherlock. He squeezed your hips with his hands, nodding.

His answer came quietly, low, with an underlying hint of protection behind it. 

"This is all I have ever wanted."

[bloodmoon-eito]

A thunderous growl rumbles in Eito's throat as his goody-goody alternate slides up behind him to cover his back. The feathered ends of his cape stand on end, trembling with his whole body as he fights the urge to maim this poor imitation right then and there. He was so tantalizingly close, he could rip that spine straight out without much of a struggle. Instead, he's forced to maintain himself lest his deal with Takumi be torn to sheds. Some haven this is turning out to be.

"It is a temporary contract, that is all," Eito spats. "Takumi and I may be mutually benefitting for now, but once the hundredth day is over, the scales all fall toward me. For this one moment, we have a common enemy, but when this is over-"

He stops himself when he feels a distinct beat shaking the ground below him. He cannot hear the melody, but the bass grows ever closer. His head swivels to see one of the pilot invaders hovering toward the crowd in its low-flying airship.

Eito makes sure his alternate can see him as he rushes over to attack the incoming invader, leaping into the air to land on the nose of the airship. The pilot squeaks in panic and tries to shake him off by swerving. Maintaining his balance, Eito crawls up to the cockpit and smashes through the glass with the blunt end of his scythe's handle. With his free hand, he grabs the small invader out of its seat and holds it up in the air. He points his scythe at the other Eito before pointing the tip of the blade at the invader.

As the airship begins to break down, smoke fuming from its engine, Eito's constricting grip on the squeaking invader tightens. The python has caught the mouse.

POP!

Blood splatters across Eito's unflinching, grinning face. He jumps off the airship, letting its scraps scatter across the field, leaving a trail of smoke and flames behind it. He tosses the unrecognizable remains of the tiny invader behind him. In a slow cutting motion, he smears the blood along his neck as he stares daggers at his alternate. He wasn't letting go of his hatred for the calamity any time soon, no matter what restrictions Takumi tried to place to cover up any loopholes about killing others from parallel universes.

Takumi came rushing in, katana ready to swing.

"I'm here!" He yelled, charging at the nearest enemy, "How are you holding up?"

@teamleader-takumi

Eito's in the middle of carving through a flimsy invader with his scythe when the familiar voice calls out to him from across the battlefield. In the brief moment of reprieve, he turns to look back at his charging ally. "Hello, Takumi!"

The wind blows through Eito's slicked back hair. His cape, split down the center with each end tapering off into a feathery winglike design, billows out from behind him. He hadn't taken on this particular appearance before. Back when he hid his true motivations from Sirei, it was only present in the form of his class weapon. But now, with his true self revealed for all to see, accompanied by his slightly altered purpose, his armor reflects his accepted identity as a guardian angel.

"I'm doing quite well, actually! I haven't gotten this much exercise in a long while, hah, but I welcome the challenge! I assume Hiruko managed to find you amidst the chaos. I have to admit, I'm feeling pretty lucky today!" Eito taps on the noise-cancelling headphones still placed over his ears.

[nana2009]

@dubacheryking i couldnt get your tags out of my head so i had to make something as soon as the inspiration hit hope you dont mind!!

karkat is their butler lol

[cecoeur]

How do you sleep at night? No one to hide behind Betrayed every alibi you had You had every chance to make amends instead you got drunk on bitterness And you still claim that you're innocent, it's sad

[kurooh]

❤︎ LOVE POTIONS ! — MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. VALENTINE’S DAY 2025 — aphrodisiacs are both a curse and a blessing. / midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, todoroki shoto, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, & takami keigo.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs / sex pollen, dirty talk, edging, brattiness, overstimulation, squirting, threesome, sickness but it’s sexy, breeding kink, unprotected sex.

xoxo, juno. everyone pretend it’s v-day 💘

MIDORIYA IZUKU.

⟡ getting hit by a villain’s quirk right before valentine’s day was not something you’d planned to do. somehow, the effects of the quirk end up being an early gift and also a curse.

fat tears race down izuku’s face, his hands grasping weakly at the sheets with each dizzying bounce of your ass onto his thighs. an hour has passed, spent in different positions around the house with less than five minute breaks in between—but no matter how many times you cum, the glowy pink ring around your irises doesn’t go away.

“too much, ‘s too much,” he slurs, words running into each other and becoming jumbled nonsense. “baby, i can’t, not anymore—shit! ‘m empty now, and it h-hurts so bad.”

“hurts?” you parrot disbelievingly, too deep under the spell to feel the burn in your thighs. “‘zuku, know what hurts?”

“no, i know,” he sobs, balls squeezing painfully as the familiar pressure returns to his cock. it’s familiar, but it’s not the same; there’s no cum involved, he’s been drained too dry to give you anything. “l-last time, please. i need a minute to, ngh, relax.”

it hurts. izuku’s cock is practically purple with overstimulation, but he’s too entranced to pull you off himself. when you’d arrived home, tugging at his belt and babbling about what had happened, izuku took a moment to consider if he had any notes on something like this.

villains with these types of quirks have always been rare, and it’s just his luck that one popped up before valentine’s day.

the couch groans from the combination of movement and weight on it, yawning with wear. izuku has never underestimated your strength or sex drive, but this . . you’re bouncy, and he’s wondering if the villain’s quirk enhanced your stamina too.

in a startling display of affection, you grab at his jaw and kiss away his tears, cooing sweet, sensual nothings into his ear. your voice is smooth when you tell him how good he’s doing, how sexy he looks when he’s whining so sweetly. just when he’s thinking it can’t get any better, you hit him where he’s weakest with a sultry murmur of want you to put a baby in me, izuku.

flustered, he can’t help but let out a squeal when you nip at his neck, kissing over previous bites and smatterings of freckles.

“do what you want with me,” he surrenders, verdant green eyes meeting your own. “hah, if that’s what you want, jus’ use me. fuck me, baby.”

BAKUGO KATSUKI.

⟡ you have the misfortune of tracking a villain with japan’s number one hero, the all too explosive dynamight. everything completely unravels during the confrontation, when katsuki’s rushing forward to deliver the final blow. the dastardly villain releases a thick, noxious smoke that fills the air with a sickening sweetness — despite all the coughing and hacking, he manages to subdue the villain until the police arrive, but you never make it back to the agency to regroup.

ridiculous, is all you can think as you’re being folded in half in the back of a company car that’s sneakily wedged in an alleyway. katsuki’s not-so-gentle teeth nip at the tender skin of your thighs, and he doesn’t think twice about the marks that are sure to show up by tomorrow.

“d-deeper, katsuki,” you writhe against the seats, too handsy for his liking. “please, it’s not deep eno—”

“shut it,” he grunts, scowling down at you. his usual expression doesn’t quite have the same effect it usually does, since it’s been mellowed out by the villain’s aphrodisiac like quirk. “don’t you dare tell me how to fuck, got it?”

a bratty huff escapes you, and you make a show of rolling your eyes at him, seemingly unimpressed. “i wouldn’t have to if you’d just do it right. oh, but who am i to judge the number one?”

a vein bulges from his forehead as he listens, crimson eyes seething silently while you continue to lay it on thick. “i guess dynamight can fuck however he wants, even if it’s subpar—”

in an instant, katsuki’s hand is on your throat and applying just enough pressure to force out a gasp from you. that teasing and talking back worked—now he’s really about to come undone, show you just how strong the number one pro can really be.

“can’t take that back now, can you? if you think you can insult me and order me around, oh,” katsuki grinds his teeth, pressing your knees into your chest without taking a moment to appreciate the pretty moan that leaves you. “fuck, you’ve got another thing coming. shut your mouth.”

“make me.”

he can’t seem to recall a time where he’s ever been this turned on—that aphrodisiac quirk’s got nothing on the way you talk to him, challenge him in a way that nobody has before.

katsuki draws his hips back, slow and deliberate in each movement. you were right, he wasn’t giving you his all; but now, he will, and he won’t stop until you eat your words. deeper? harder? faster? if that’s what you’re asking for, he’ll give it to you.

you watch breathlessly, mesmerized by the frustrated scrunch of his face, all because he can’t stop replaying your words in his head. a harsh slap to your clit snaps you out of your daze the moment it lands, stinging terribly.

“let’s work up to that, alright? you’re going to—”

“what if i don’t, katsuki?” you tip your chin up at him, looking down your nose at him. “then what?”

another slap, this time with a little more strength behind it. he disregards everything you just said, getting ready to give you an explosive orgasm you’ll have to work hard for.

“that’s what. now, let’s try that again—you’ll be good and count each slap, unless you want me to spank this slutty pussy raw,” satisfied by the responding clench of your cunt, he arches a brow and smirks. “your choice, brat.”

TODOROKI SHOTO.

⟡ with a new, unstable virus spreading rapidly through japan, scientists are racing to develop a cure. it seems to act like the standard flu, but it affects quirk users differently—shoto ends up with an unusual kind of fever.

“ah, ‘m cumming, sho,” cum squirts from your pussy like a waterfall, and everything’s so overwhelming that you unintentionally push his cock out. “good, ‘s so fucking good.”

sweat coats his face, clinging to the rough scar on shoto’s left side. panting, he sucks in a breath, grasping around for his swollen cock.

“i’m sorry,” his voice cracks once his tip slides through your sticky folds and makes your back jolt off the bed, “it’s just—shit, it’s not enough.”

“a-again? i, hah, don’t know if that’s a good—”

shoto shakes his head, shivering as a thin layer of frost appears on his right cheek; it sparkles brilliantly before melting into droplets of water that drip from his jaw. “i’m still burning up,” it’s completely out of bounds, but the low rasp of his sickly voice scratches an itch in your brain. “see, lovey? can’t even use my quirk to fix it.”

a sigh escapes you, and you spread your trembly thighs one more time. “i might be too tired to drive you to the hospital after this,” you warn.

“i know, but baby,” gratefully, shoto pushes forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside you. his warm hand settles on your lower belly to add some pressure, gearing you up for another explosive orgasm. “i don’t wanna be like this when we go to the hospital.”

he flushes darkly with embarrassment, and the mental image of a tortured shoto rutting into a hospital bed as waves of the fever’s severe effects overwhelm him is enough to make you soften.

once he starts to thrust, developing a rhythm that would put your own fingers to shame, his mouth drops open and he’s babbling incoherently. “ . . always so fucking hot around you, baby. i-it’s not my fault you’re so—haa, shit—so perfect, making me burn up whenever you’re not looking.”

and because being this deep inside you is as close as he can get to heaven, shoto sees no reason to hold back on the honest praise. he’s always been a little shy to express himself during sex, mouth drying up whenever he tries to say something rather dirty, but not now. since his brain is being fried by the heat at the moment, he won’t feel any embarrassment.

“sho, right there,” a breath is punched out of your lungs, and your nails scratch at his shoulders each time his tip kisses your sweet spot. “oh god, ‘m gonna make a mess again!”

his cock twitches and he moans your name, only egging you on. “can’t wait to taste it, darling.”

you fall off the edge, his words serving as the final push. euphoria curls through you, cresting like a wave until the sensitivity becomes too much, bringing you back to earth. abs clenching, shoto pulls out to cover your stomach in white.

in an instant, shoto’s temperature drops. quietly, he shivers against you, huffing into your neck.

“i want to stay like this before we leave.”

“you’ve got ice forming rapidly on your back, sho.”

“it’ll melt if i’m cuddling with you . . could you also rub my back? maybe i just need to sleep it off.”

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

⟡ eijirou listened to you specifically tell him NOT to eat the wrapped cookies you had in the fridge and when you left, he did exactly that.

“babe, baby, you feel so good,” cum races down his fingers in creamy rivulets, puddling at the base of his cock. caught up in his fantasy, eijirou flicks his wrist faster, hoping with all his heart to imitate the hot squeeze of your cunt. “s-so pretty when you take me, always so fuckin’ beautiful.”

his voice cracks just as the door opens, and your purse falls to the floor. your boyfriend is spread out on the bed, flushed feverishly and gasping out your name like he’s delirious—it would be the perfect scene to come home to if you didn’t spot two torn cookie wrappers near him.

“eijirou,” you speak his name lowly, catching his eyes and raising a brow. he’s not sure if he should feel awkward or turned on because of your scolding tone, so he just swallows dryly and looks toward you with hooded eyes. “already forgot the speech i gave you? why’d you eat the cookies?”

shame creeps up his neck and makes his skin prickle uncomfortably. grasping for a response, eijirou decides to question you right back. “why’d you have sex cookies in the fridge?”

“they were a surprise for valentine’s!”

oh.

now he really feels dumb for spoiling your plans. perhaps if he hadn’t been so hungry, so greedy, he wouldn’t be embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

but the feeling doesn’t last long—your tough face drops into something more sultry: doe eyes and an upturned quirk of your lips that’s sure to finish him.

the mattress sinks under your weight, and you scoot beside him with a self satisfied smile. it’s small and quiet, but a voice in the back of his head tells him maybe you wanted this to happen; you certainly don’t look too upset about it.

“no way, baby,” a hiss escapes him when you slap his cum-stained hand away from his cock, instead choosing to replace them with your own. “am i dreaming? mrs. red riot, are you—”

his narration throws you off, and you choke just kissing his tip. you know eijirou’s surprised and eternally grateful, but damn. “mr. red riot, you’d be quiet if you wanted me to.”

“sorry,” he says earnestly, tensing up to hide the fact that he’s shaking like a leaf when you finally take him in your mouth. “i’ve just—” he inhales sharply as you slowly, torturously take him inch by inch. “i’ve been waiting s-so long for you to come home, babe.”

you swallow, throat squeezing tight around his cock, and eijirou’s clean hand flies to the back of your head, hovering precariously. “i’m crazy about you, all day every day, and the cookies made it worse. ‘m sorry for spoiling the surprise, i didn’t mean to—haa, w-what’re you doing to me? oh, you’re gonna make me—”

it doesn’t take long for obscene slurps and occasional gags to fill the room as you suck eijirou’s cock, spoiling him with each languid bob of your head. it’s too much, and the tension grows thicker in his gut, setting his insides ablaze with anticipation.

he’s hurtling toward his high, jerking his hips up and shamelessly preparing to fill up your throat this quickly—but then, you push yourself off of him. a shudder ripples through his body, and he throws you a pained, wide eyed look.

“why’d you..? baby?”

you motion for him to lay on his back, and he can see the gears in your head turning behind a wicked smile. “might as well draw it out, hm?”

“you’re gonna milk me?”

he’s so cute . .

you want to see him crying.

you hum, “only until you’re begging for me to stop.”

KAMINARI DENKI, ft. SERO HANTA

⟡ an undercover sting at a mysterious village with your work partners doesn’t go as smoothly as planned. the village, out in the far country, has been reported as the one place with the highest levels of quirk activity in japan. little did you know about the fact that this place is home to infectious pollen that makes its way into people via the air, or about its temporary effects on people . .

“what the fuck,” you moan, vision blurry between their faces and intermittent flashes of light. “there’s no way it’s from a plant, it can’t be—”

hanta’s tongue darts out to lick the salt away from his upper lip, and he points a finger toward a passage in the encyclopedia. “the symptoms are, ngh, the same.”

one of your hands works denki’s cock while the other shakily flips through an encyclopedia of germs and the like; hanta’s buried to the hilt inside of you, tan cheeks flushed with exertion.

“can’t you just read after?” denki unhelpfully suggests, blinking back a few tears while sparks of electricity fly off from his blond hair. “let’s just fix—yeah, baby, jus’ like that—fix the problem now and figure it out later.”

“shut it, denks,” hanta rolls his eyes, rocking his hips into you. despite the fact that the three of you are totally naked and in the middle of some kind of threesome, you’re researching what apparently caused this surge of uncontrollable arousal.

things began not long after you arrived in the village, where everything had looked unsuspecting and normal. surely there was a villain lurking around somewhere . . ? why else would there be so much unusual activity, enough to alert the authorities?

“look, they f-found something similar in america,” hanta’s voice wavers uncharacteristically, his own high racing through him with such intensity he doubles over.

“forget about the book,” denki’s begging while pressing dazed kisses to your tits, one hand tossing the book aside and slipping between your trembling thighs. “c’mon, babe. show us what you look like when you cum.”

perhaps this is something to be selfish about — when will an opportunity to fuck your hot coworkers come around again? hanta’s everything you’ve been daydreaming about, with a muscular physique sharp enough to have been cut from stone. denki’s just as attractive, though his features are softer, the result of his constant snacking while on the job or in the agency.

hanta nods in assent, already trailing over the edge. “want you to gush all over me, baby.”

thrashing under denki’s fingers, it momentarily occurs to you that maybe they’re a little too experienced. neither of them were concerned with a threesome when it was suggested, and there’s no mistakes in their almost synchronized movements.

just watching your eyes flutter and roll back is enough to make denki cum with a moan of your name as his cock sprays white. hanta’s pupils probably dilate a hundred times their size at the erotic sight, and his hips begin to stutter as heat races up his spine.

denki, shaking profusely, musters his voice and maintains his hurried pace. “g-good girl, go on ‘n let it out.”

since stepping foot into the village and inhaling that damn pollen, the pro hero’s been getting realistic flashes of thoughts he’s kept locked away for some time. you, on your knees, looking up at him like you’re ready to do more than just please. you, with your pretty eyes full of tears as you lose your mind beneath him.

an orgasm stronger than the lustful effects of any aphrodisiac tears through you, and your cunt bears down so hard it forces out hanta’s own high as well. with all his might, he tries to resist the surge of weakness that hits him and fails—he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely and burying his face in your neck.

loosely, your jaw hangs open and breathy gasps leave your mouth. denki’s sparking with electricity beside you and simultaneously struggling to get it under control. a single yellow spark flies off his body and mildly electrocutes hanta, snapping him back to reality. he jerks against you, sounding exhausted.

“uh. so, um, what’re we supposed to report when we get back?”

TAKAMI KEIGO.

⟡ bless his heart. for valentine’s, he decides to be a silk heart-shaped box of japan’s most expensive chocolate for you. he’d been so focused on finding your favorite flavors along with new ones that he didn’t even realize that he’d purchased sex chocolate.

“it hurts, dovey. it’s s-so painful.”

since sharing the box of chocolates with you, keigo’s been reduced to a pathetic mess who can’t seem to stop shaking when you just barely touch him. vermilion feathers puff up and out at his back, his messy wings conveying the way he’s crumbling inside.

you’re just as hot, skin crawling with a lustful itch only keigo can scratch for you. the frenetic beating of his wings whips up cold gusts of wind stronger than any ceiling fan, and not a single goosebump rises on your skin.

“right there, kei,” you moan, tears gathering in your eyes as he continuously hits your sweet spot. “oh my god, don’t stop.”

as if he’d ever plan to.

he hiccups, face flushed and hair tousled like he’s just returned from some mission out in the wild. softly, with the barest note of urgency, keigo whines out your name and a request.

“dovey, c’mon,” his voice cracks halfway through his sentence, shattered with unmistakable pleasure. “just tell me what you want, and i’ll, ah, i’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

keigo’s entire body thrums with the need, the purpose, to please you, and his own pleasure hinges on you and your praise. sure enough, you cry out to him, words saccharine and addicting.

“make me cum, kei,” and he doesn’t need any further instruction, not when he knows your body this well. smooth fingers slip between your thighs and work your clit, causing your back to arch when he applies just enough pressure to send electricity through your nerves.

you’re wrapping around keigo’s waist, drawing him in and breaking down his self control easily.

“want me to fill up this pussy, baby? i can do it again and again—” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts that amplify the clap of skin against skin almost as much as a quirk could, “while you take it like you were made to.”

quaking beneath him, you nod frantically, as if those are the words you’ve been waiting to hear. while he was so vividly illustrating the scene, his wings unconsciously began to wrap around your bodies, a sign of how much he wants it too.

you gasp, eyes squeezing shut with the last image being keigo’s face, twisted in ecstasy and scrunched with concentration. “gonna—‘m gonna cum, kei!”

“with me, dovey, please,” sweat pours down the sides of his face as the heated bliss tightens in his gut, applying an unbearable pressure to his cock. “let me feel you cum around me, ughhh.”

sloppily, keigo presses open mouthed kisses to your lips, and a delighted moan escapes him when you kiss back. your lips are soft against his, and your tongue carries the sweet taste of valentine’s chocolates, the expensive ones he’d come home with earlier.

with his orgasm creeping up on him and dulling his surroundings, a brief thought occurs to him about those chocolates. the sales lady had raised a brow when he filled up the customizable box with many pink chocolates that had been sitting in a case separate from the rest.. no, that can’t be right. surely this is the common valentine’s day effect on couples—it can’t be from the chocolate, can it?

[rottingpink]

free use

cw. cnc, established relationship, free use, going at it CONSTANTLY, p/v, breeding, corruption kink, unprotected sex

synopsis. since discussing the idea of both of you being willing to fuck whenever, your husband has not let up off you.

masterlist

"we should try something fun."

your husband lifts his gaze slowly from the newspaper he was reading.

"fun?" he indulges you, tilting his head slightly to search your face. you suggested something without a description intentionally to make him ask for an elaboration, meaning what you're about to tell him will either be very intriguing, or the complete opposite. he searches your features in an attempt to determine which it'll be. "what kind of fun?"

you pause to make him squirm in anticipation. "i was thinking," you murmur, tracing your finger along the couch's lines with your fingertip, a sign of nervousness. "we could try… being available to each other. like whenever one of us wants-" your face goes warm, "sex."

the newspaper lowers down to his lap so your husband can stare at you intently, but he doesn't move otherwise. he's seated with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his legs apart in a lazy manspread, looking way too composed for what you just suggested. your body is so tense right now that you feel the urge to take a cold shower before the conversation continues. why isn't he saying anything?

"available," he echoes your choice of words. "as in free use."

you nod, trying not to squirm in your seat. "mhm."

he hums, tongue running over the inside of his cheek, and his eyes drag over your body as if he's already imagining all the different ways he can catch you off guard and ruin you. just as you suggested.

"sweetheart," he murmurs quietly, folding the paper and setting it aside, "do you even know what you're agreeing to?"

you shrug, a guileless glint in your wide eyes. you couldn't seriously be asking him this. you, who cries within the first ten minutes of him fucking you and tries to crawl away from him when he's pounding into you, wants to be free use for him, constantly? "i trust you. there... shouldn't be any issues."

he leans back in his chair and lets a silence pass once more. he seems to be considering it. the longer he goes without talking the more you squirm. he lays a cheek in his palm, and continues. "and why do you want to be free use for me?"

your eyes widen and your lips press together. you're nervous but trying not to show it. "it's not just me, you know. both of us are available for each other. i just wanted to suggest it because it's been on my mind a while."

"mm. no other reason?"

you hesitate a second too long, and he notices immediately. his eyes narrow ever so slightly. "well," you fidget, toying with a thread on your shirt to break eye contact just long enough so you don't explode. "i just thought it might be exciting."

"exciting... how?"

you puff out a soft breath and try to play it off. "i dunno… like, getting dragged into a public washroom while we're out grocery shopping. or, like… in the car. pulling it over so we can go to the backseat. or while i'm doing laundry."

"so you mean you want me to be so desperate i can't wait and have to have you. right then, right there."

you fidget again, but nod. "mhm."

he laughs once under his breath. "that's cute. so if you're half asleep," he says, "and i want to wake you up with my cock inside you, you won't mind? or if we're on a hike and you're in one of those pairs of leggings i really like, i can put you up against a tree?"

you nod, but look away bashfully. "i said whenever."

he hums and looks away for a moment in an attempt to stay calm while he processes. then he looks back at you, tutting with a pitying look on his face. like you're a lamb up for the slaughter.

"you don't know what you just agreed to," he says affectionately, like he's sorry for you.

you frown, feeling like he's underestimating you. "yes, i do."

he smiles. "you really don't."

the first time he tries out your new agreement is when you're brushing your teeth with him the next morning. you're standing at the sink in just one of his old t-shirts, groggy, hair messy, toothbrush hanging from the corner of your mouth as you blink blearily at your own reflection. he's behind you, pretending to brush his teeth too, but he's just looking at you.

your thighs are bare. the shirt rides up when you lean forward to spit into the sink, and he can see the crease where the back of your thighs meet your plush ass. he's entranced by the quiet way you operate when you're still half asleep and unaware of how good you look.

he swishes some water in his mouth and spits, setting his toothbrush back in the holder while watching you. you didn't notice he was ogling until you look up to meet his gaze in the mirror reflection to see him reaching around to pull you flush against his chest, lifting his hands under your shirt from behind to cup your tits. you don't wear a bra around the house, much to his convenience.

"just trying something fun," he murmurs into the curve of your neck, kissing the soft skin there. you tip your head a little, a pleasant feeling washing over your body as his thumbs roll over your perked nipples. he then wraps his hand around your throat to tip your head back. "aren't you so pretty?" he coos, one hand toying with your breast while the other gives your throat a light squeeze. it does nothing for your sanity. your brain might as well be slipping out of your ears.

you try to respond, but all that slips out is a helpless little whimper, the toothbrush still dangling from your lips.

"you're already shaking," he says softly, letting go of your throat only to glide his hand down the front of your shirt, past your navel, and into the waistband of your thin cotton panties. "and it's not even been a minute since i started. why're you acting like some helpless little virgin?"

you slip the toothbrush out of your mouth and drop it in the holder, using both hands to hold his wrist to keep yourself steady. "you're being mean," you breathe, embarrassed by how quickly he's unraveled you.

he hums, slipping his fingers inside your tight pussy to find you warm and wet. your hips jolt, but you don't move away. "i'm doing what you asked of me," he corrects you, his tone patient. "you said 'whenever,' remember?" he begins to lift up your shirt and tosses it onto the counter beside you, and your panties come off right after. then he pushes you forward so you're bent over onto the smooth marble in front of you.

he leans over your back, palm pressing down gently between your shoulder blades to keep you in place. "you know what your problem is," he murmurs, breath hot against your ear, "you get way too ahead of yourself. then you ask for things you're not ready for."

"baby please," you whine, grinding your hips back, only for him to pull away. he's teasing you. you look back at him with frustration, wanting friction against your sopping core, but he's not allowing it.

you feel him hook a hand under your knee to prop your leg up on the edge of the sink for a better angle, and he tuts at how messy your little pussy is so soon. he spreads you as much as you can go, then nudges his clothed bulge against your core, listening to your breath hitch and breathy pants to leave your mouth. "hmmh... that spot... do that again,"

he hushes you patronizingly, tugging his pj pants just low enough for his cock to be free. you're completely bare in contrast. with a hand pinning you down and the blunt press of his cock between your thighs, he slowly, maddeningly starts to slip it inside with a purposeful roll of his hips, and the stretch immediately hits you. you feel so full with just the first few inches of his fat cock in you.

your mouth opens around a silent moan, eyes rolling back. your grip on the counter tightens while he rocks into you steadily, holding you firmly while his gaze flits from your hole sucking him in and the lewd look on your face in the mirror.

"you wanted this. look at yourself. look how pretty you are when you're being used."

you try. you really do. your eyes flutter open just long enough to catch sight of your own flushed, wrecked reflection, your hair a mess, mouth parted, as he slowly fills you up to the brink, tip kissing your womb. his hand gathers a fistful of your hair to tip your head up.

your head spins as he thrusts into you roughly, flesh slapping against flesh making nasty sounds that echo off the bathroom walls. "y-you're... haaa gonna be late f'work," you moan as he fucks into you deep and rough, his thick cock curving just right inside you to keep bumping against your sweet spots.

"shit... y'wanna talk about that now?" he tugs your hair a little to make you squeal, using it to keep you in place like it's a handle. "i'll grab breakfast on the way there," he says into your skin. "this is more important."

you reach behind blindly because you're desperate to feel your husband or hold him, but he pushes you back down, then leans down to push his chest flush against your back, his skin hot against yours. he nudges his cock deeper in you at the new angle, moving a bulky arm to wrap around your neck and fuck you in a chokehold.

he groans against your ear, rutting harder now, his rhythm starting to lose control while your back arches for him, trying to take more even though you're so full. his hips snap forward with more force and he chuckles into your ear when you let out a garbled, " 'm gonna cum..." followed by a loud mewl. he groans, slamming into that one spot that gets you to tighten up around him each time his mushroom tip gives it a kiss.

"hmm, ask nicely, sweetheart," he nips your ear and bottoms out with an obscenely wet squelch. "mmmm.... c-can i... fuck, c-cum? please, 'm gonna..." your eyes screw shut and your pussy gushes around his thick shaft, leaving your thighs slick and shaky.

he slams into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you so his cum can shoot as deep inside you as he can. he doesn't pull out right away. arms wrapped around your middle, nose pressed into your hair like he's anchoring himself.

"god," he mumbles, still pumping you full, and there's now a creamy ring where his cock enters your cunt. "filled your little pussy all up, didn't i? now i'll feel bad leaving you like this."

you're too wrecked to answer, slumped forward against the sink, letting him hold you up. he reaches for a washcloth by the towel rack and dampens it so he can clean you up, giving you little kisses the whole time while you cling onto him. he keeps praising you, too. "did s'good for me, pretty baby."

he leaves you with a soft peck on your cheek. "ill see you later tonight..."

it doesn't stop after that morning in the bathroom. that was just his warm up, after all; his first taste of what you gave him. the second the floodgates opened, there was no closing them. poor you.

there's the time in the gym changeroom, right after your shared workout ends. you're both sore and sweaty, and you duck into the locker room so you can grab your stuff and head home with him to shower. however, the second he sees your flushed skin and damp chest through your sports bra, he doesn't hesitate to tug you into one of the showers and sit down on the bench, tearing off your clothes and tugging you into his lap.

he'll stuff your panties in your mouth so your moans are muffled, and fucks up into you hard and fast with no shame, even as he hears people talking and shuffling about behind the flimsy shower curtain. "you're gonna make a mess on me, aren't you?" he murmurs against your ear. "you like knowing someone could walk in right now and see you like this? my sweet girl, cockdrunk in a gym shower?"

he makes you cum on his cock, stuffs you full of his seed and leaves with you once the coast is mostly clear.

next was the hike. you're halfway up the steep trail with him, on a quick break on the grass off the main path. you'd just bent over a little to re-tie your laces since your boots had been far too tight, when he'd come up behind you, grinding against you and palming your ass through your leggings in broad daylight.

"shouldn't bend over in front of me unless you want me to do somethin' to you," he mutters, voice low and warm at your ear as he presses himself closer, fingers kneading into the backs of your thighs.

he doesn't give you a second to argue before he's guiding you face first to a tree and dropping to his knees. he pulls your leggings down just enough to get what he wants, and the air hits your slick folds pleasantly. you whimper, bracing yourself as he spreads your ass to have your pussy fully presented to him.

"gonna be quick," he whispers, "just a little taste." he mumbles, before shoving his face right into your cunt.

you gasp loudly and your hands shoot up to brace against the tree bark right in front of you and dig into the wood. you tremble and let out a shaky breath when he licks a slow, nasty stripe from your pussy up to your clit, shaking his tongue a little so it slobbers over every inch of your drooling pussy lips, occasionally prodding your hole.

his hands are firm on your thighs to spread you open wider, dragging your hips back toward his mouth while he eats you out filthy and sloppy. his nose nudges your clit, tongue flicking in and out of you, then slipping deep inside.

you bite your lip and your eyes, wide and panicked, glance toward the trail. anyone could walk by since you're not that far off the path, hidden, but not well. if someone wandered off long enough, they'd find the two of you.

"god," he moans into you, closing his mouth around your pussy lips and sucking gently, then going back to make out with your pussy. "taste so fuckin' good, babe. made for me." your orgasm hits so fast that you barely have time to warn him, pushing back against him so you cream right into his mouth.

you intended to have one wholesome weekend without your man ravaging you on any available surface in the vicinity. a family gathering that your parents are hosting. you enter the countryside house with your husband's hand on the small of your back to guide you inside, smiling politely as your relatives greet you both with warm hugs and laughter. everyone is in a good mood, sipping drinks, chewing on appetizers. there's music playing, and scents drifting from the kitchen.

he lasts about twenty minutes into the evening before he leans down to whisper filth into your ear while everyone else is distracted in the dining room. "you keep looking up at me like that and you're not leaving this place without my cum dripping down your thighs."

you stiffen, body heating up with arousal instantly, even as your face stays composed for the sake of your family standing two feet away. your husband knows exactly what he's doing. he brushes his lips just under your ear again, letting his breath brush over your skin while his palm subtly slides down to squeeze your ass through your dress, making you yelp.

he's all over you most of the evening. hands holding your hips from behind, cupping your ass, arms around your waist, smelling your hair... blatant public displays of affection. he keeps whispering things. "you're dripping through this dress," he murmurs while you're getting drinks in the kitchen. "do you even know what you look like right now?"

you try to push him away, but he's already behind you, brushing your hair over your shoulder as if he's helping, just to kiss the back of your neck. he's all over you right up until you take a break to get away from the party for a bit before dinner. you choose your childhood bedroom as an escape, needing one second away from him before he decides to finger you at the dinner table or fuck you in one of the bathrooms, but he follows you shortly after.

you just entered your old room, not realizing the door didn't click shut behind you. you make it two steps before he grabs you and pins you down onto your back in your old twin bed.

you jolt. "baby! where did you- what are you- "

"shhh," he murmurs, lips already brushing your neck. "just missed you. five minutes."

your body reacts before your brain can catch up. you tip your head to the side for him, breath catching as he kisses behind your ear and tugs the straps of your dress down your shoulders and pushing it under your tits so he can cup your bare mounds. his thumbs brush over your nipples until they stiffen under his touch, and he groans at your soft whines, pinching and rubbing them with his fingers while he kisses down to your chest, laving his tongue over the swollen peaks. he's practically slobbering on them, one bulky hand playing with one while his mouth works on the other, sucking sharply and then releasing with a wet pop.

he drags your panties down and off your ankles, spreading you into a shameful position to get a good look at you.

"fuck, look at this mess," he thumbs over your pussy with light pressure, teasing you. "this for me?" you whimper a soft yes, causing him to chuckle softly. he leans over you again, playing with your hole while his other hand wraps around his cock to stroke it slow and firm from tip to base, aligning himself with your hole. he doesn't make it easy for you and put it in straight away, instead tapping his cock against your folds and listening to the nasty little squelches that come from you. he slides it up and down, delaying your pleasure to make you desperate.

you gasp and mewl, thighs already lifting for him as he lines up and starts to press in slowly. your body clutches around him immediately, the stretch making your head spin. "ohhh my- fuck," he groans, pushing in all the way until he bottoms out. "tight as ever. made to be fucked in."

you moan breathlessly and tip your head back, letting him start to plow into you. he doesn't waste any time in putting one leg up over his shoulder and thrusting so deep that his balls squish against the curve of your ass and his shaft forms a faint print in your belly from how huge he is. your head lolls back with each of his deep, grinding strokes.

"look at you," he whispers, eyes trained on your filthy expression. "getting ruined in your childhood room. all the innocent memories, corrupted by this one." he mocks you while fucking into you harder. you moan loudly, hands fisting at the sheets, then clawing his biceps, then running down his torso. you have no idea what to do with yourself right now. he's fucking you into oblivion and now you're completely out of it.

"bet your parents think you're still their good little girl," he pants, rocking into you, stretching you out with his fat shaft with every drag. you can feel every vein and the exact angle in which his cock curves inside you. "they don't know you're upstairs getting your pussy wrecked like this."

"fuck! baby slow down, ahn, we're gonna get caught mmfuck, please!"

"please what?" he taunts, slowing his thrusts to an unbearable pace. "please fuck me harder?" he punctuates the question with a sharp thrust so deep inside you your vision swims. "or please fill me up in my little princess bed?" he coos, grinding his pelvis against yours. your mouth falls open in a silent scream as a particularly deep thrust hits your sweet spot, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine while your back arches off the bed, pressing your heaving tits more firmly against his chest. you can basically feel his heartbeat against yours, thudding in time with his sloppy thrusts.

" 'm gonna cum inside you," he grits, pounding into you hard, cock scraping against your plushy walls and the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every inward thrust. "goddamn, look at me. want you to -haa- remember this." your nails scrape his back. you're crying out softly, trying to stay quiet, but you're so close. you clamp down on him so hard when it hits that he chokes on a groan, hips stuttering as he starts spilling into you with a harsh jerk of his body.

his cock jerks and pulses as he hilts inside you, the thick head flaring inside you as he releases ropes of hot cum pumps into your greedy cunt, your womb quickly filling to the brim.

within seconds, excess semen is already bubbling out around his shaft, dripping down onto the sheets beneath your ass. your pussy clenches and ripples, desperately trying to milk every last drop of him, and he continues rocking his cock inside you as he cums, fingers moving to play with your clit, and you cum shortly after, gushing around his cock and adding to the mess on the bed.

[kiyoomiee]

part one. part two. part three. part four.

boxer!sukuna who’s pining after you for over a year now. This man would constantly cross the lines and push any boundaries you set just so you could spare him one date. He doesn’t mind the chase, it only makes him want you more.

boxer!sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you during the company’s year-end party at the bar. His eyes were eating up the outfit you wore. The dress hung perfectly on your curves. He’s dying for a touch.

He’s on his sixth drink now, he’s tipsy for sure. You two were left alone in the VIP booth, while everyone partied on the dance floor. His arm rested on the back of your seat, fingers ghosting over your shoulder as he watched you drink your tequila shot.

You frowned at him when he stole the lemon you were holding. He smirked and raised his brow, silently daring you to take it from his fingers.

What he doesn’t realize was, you too had too many shots now and were high on liquid courage. Never breaking eye contact with him, you didn’t hesitate to move closer and suck on the fruit from his hold.

Fucking hell, you little minx. He bit his lower lip to suppress a groan.

His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. You gasped when you felt his hot tongue licking upwards from your chin up to the side of your lips, savoring the lemon juice that dripped.

“Sukuna” You called him softly.

“Yeah, baby?” His half-lidded eyes stared back at you.

“I should punch you for that.”

He chuckled, your pouting lips only invites him more.

“A woman after my own heart.”

boxer!sukuna who possessively wraps his arm on the back of your thigh to pull you closer when he noticed Toji Fushiguro staring at you curiously. Toji, his sparring partner for today, was curious about the lady doctor that Sukuna was so obsessed with.

“Stop staring Toji, she’s mine.” He glared at the man from across the ring.

“‘m not yours Sukuna.”

“Could’ve fooled me baby, you’re wrapping bandage on my hand like a wife would do.”

“I literally do this for other players too.”

“Hmm.” Was all he replied, he was busy staring at your face. You rolled your eyes at him when you noticed.

“You’re so beautiful doc, wanna go out with me?” Your hands stopped for a moment, he didn’t miss the blush creeping up your face.

He’s been asking you for a date relentlessly over the past year. Maybe this time you’ll finally give in.

“When you win the championship this season, maybe I’ll say yes.” You say, avoiding his eyes as you finished wrapping up his hands.

Sukuna was stunned, he didn’t expect you’d say yes after rejecting him so many times.

“Fuck me. Fushiguro! You heard that? She finally agreed to be my woman!”

“Yeah I think you have a hearing problem, you lovesick fool.”

“He’s right. Selective hearing can damage your brain Sukuna. You aren’t even champion yet.”

You stated, but he doesn’t care. All Sukuna heard was that he finally has the chance to make you his (wife) girlfriend.

“I promise you, that belt will be my consolation prize. I’m coming home with you as my trophy.”

[nanamiskentos]

(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

[cutelikeharry]

After Credits. Janitor Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader Smut, 18+

Summary: Every Friday night, she escapes the stress of her senior year of college by unwinding at the movies. There, she meets Levi, an attractive janitor who isn’t happy with her habit of staying after the credits roll. But after an argument, their tension snaps, and she discovers that cleaning isn’t the only thing he’s good at.

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

She had found herself at the cinema again. As a senior in uni, the stress of her final year was overwhelming, and Friday nights had become her personal tradition, the one time she could disconnect from the pressures of university life. It was her thing. Taking a break from her hectic schedule to enjoy the quiet solitude that only a cinema could offer. As an undergrad, she didn’t have much time to go out, but movies… movies were her escape.

She had started visiting the local cinema more often, choosing films based on what seemed interesting at the time, usually romance. She usually took the very last showings of the night, when the cinema was emptier and the darkened theater felt like her own little world.

Tonight was no different. She’d picked a romantic movie, nothing too special, but it had kept her entertained. The movie ended, the credits rolled, and the theater started emptying. People got up and left, chatting with friends or heading out, but she stayed in her seat, like always.

She had a habit of waiting until the very end. Some movies, especially the ones that were a little more mainstream, sometimes had extra scenes after the credits. She didn’t want to miss that, so she stayed seated, finishing off the last of her popcorn and waiting for any hidden surprises.

When the last of the people walked out, the theater went quiet. She looked around at the empty seats, then turned back to the screen. The soundtrack music from the movie, as the credits rolled, was the only sound. She was alone now, but she didn’t mind. This was her moment of peace.

That’s when she saw him.

A familiar figure appeared at the theater entrance. A man in his thirties carrying a broom, with a cart full of cleaning supplies beside him.

She knew him by now, if only in passing. She’d always be the last to leave, lingering for after-credit scenes, and he was always the one waiting, clearly annoyed by her habit. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes landing on her before he rolled them with his usual annoyance. 

She was caught off guard but didn’t let it show. She just kept eating her popcorn, ignoring him as he started sweeping up the mess from the theater. He went around picking up trash, moving up the rows. 

She had seen him before, but she never paid much attention to him until now. She noticed he was... attractive. His sharp features, the dark hair swept up in an undercut that looked a little too stylish for a janitor, and the slight shadow of dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t gotten much sleep in a while. 

Well, then again, it was past midnight, and he still had to clean up everyone’s mess, so it was understandable.

The light blue uniform stretched over his toned arms, his muscles flexing with each motion. His hands looked strong, veins visible, and she found herself watching him longer than she meant to.

He finished sweeping the lower rows and then headed up the aisle, skipping past a few rows before stopping directly at hers. She stayed seated, but she felt his presence as he walked toward her, stopping right next to her. She looked up at him, confused, wondering what he wanted.  

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to ignore him, but it was hard. His eyes remained on her. Her attention instinctively darted back towards the screen, trying to focus on the credits, but every time she glanced back, she found his eyes still fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. She didn’t know what he wanted. Had she done something wrong?

Her eyes caught a small card hanging from around his neck. ‘A name tag’, she realized.

‘Levi Ackerman.’

“You’re still here?” Levi asked, clearly annoyed. His voice was low, a little tired.

She blinked, unsure how to respond to his comment. “Yeah… I’m waiting for the after-credits.”

He glanced shortly at the rolling credits, then back at her, his expression flat. "It's a romance movie. They don't do after-credits for this kind of thing."

She raised an eyebrow as she kept eating her popcorn. “You don’t know that. Maybe they do. Maybe there’s a surprise.”

Levi rolled his eyes before once again glancing at the screen. The credits were almost finished, the final names scrolling by, and she held her breath, hoping for more. But there was nothing. The screen turned off completely.

Her face dropped slightly, feeling a bit disappointed. She had been hoping for something, even though she knew deep down it was unlikely.

“See? No after-credits. Now, get out.”

She frowned, standing up, her hand gripping the bucket of popcorn a little tighter. “Hey, no need to be rude. I just wanted to see if there was something left. After-credits can be just as important as the movie, you know?”

Levi's expression didn’t soften. “You know, it’s Friday night, right? Most people go out and hang out with friends. Not sit here alone waiting for the credits to end.”

She felt her irritation rising. She wasn’t sure why he was being so condescending, but it was getting under her skin. “Maybe I like the quiet,” she shot back.

Levi didn’t seem to care much. He just gave a small shrug. “Whatever. Just take your popcorn and leave. I’ve got another theater to deal with before I can leave.”

She clenched her jaw, annoyed by the way he dismissed her. She didn’t want to leave just because he told her to, but what could she do? She was already standing.

She took the popcorn bucket and walked down the stairs, heading for the exit. Before she left, she turned to glance back at him. He was already back to cleaning, his broom moving over the floor, barely paying her any mind.

She stormed out of the theater, fists tight. His attitude pissed her off. He was a total jerk. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about his stupidly handsome face.

As the week went on and she attended her lectures, she couldn't shake him from her thoughts. She was angry with herself for not speaking up when he made those rude remarks, but she couldn't deny the way his light blue uniform clung to his muscular frame as he swept the theater. Her mind kept replaying images of him, making it impossible for her to concentrate on the lecture in front of her.

‘He's not even that good looking.’ she repeated, trying to convince herself that he was just another ordinary guy. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Every time she tried to brush it off, something about him kept pulling her back. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but it lingered in her mind, pulling her in despite her best efforts to ignore it.

‘Focus. You’re here to learn, not fantasize about some janitor.’ She’d shake her head, but still, the image of him would linger. She’d catch herself daydreaming, completely losing track of the professor’s words as she pictured him. 

Levi Ackerman, his name still fresh in her mind. 

By the time the next Friday rolled around, she had already decided it was time to escape again. 

Her weekly trip to the cinema had become a need. The place where she could leave her distractions behind. 

As she walked up to the ticket counter, she glanced at the list of movies showing. She’d seen them all except for one. 

It was a romance movie, but not like the ones she usually went for. This one had a big, bold "18+" slapped on it. She’d heard the rumors about this movie. Mostly graphic, erotic scenes. 

She hesitated, unsure. She wasn’t typically into movies that were this explicit, but something about the idea of watching it nagged at her. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe she was just looking for something different.

She shrugged, deciding to buy a ticket anyway. ‘One time won’t hurt,’ she thought, not really believing the excuse herself. She bought her popcorn and drink, then made her way towards the theater.

The theater was half empty as usual, and she picked her usual seat in the back row. She preferred it there. The middle rows were always too crowded, and the back gave her the space to settle in without distractions. She popped some popcorn into her mouth and sat down, waiting for the commercials to finish and the movie to start.

The movie wasn’t anything special at first. Just a young couple falling in love, the kind of story that was predictable, but still heartwarming. But as the film went on, it started pushing past what she’d expected, with scenes that felt... different. Graphic. Intimate. 

Her face heated up at certain moments. Scenes that felt way too graphic to be on the big screen. She shifted in her seat, trying to keep her focus on the screen, but it was hard. The scenes were almost uncomfortable to watch, not because they were poorly done, but because they felt too real. 

She didn’t know if she was more embarrassed by what was happening on screen or the fact that she was watching it by herself.

She couldn’t help but wonder. Would that Levi guy ever watch a movie like this? The thought made her stomach twist. It was strange, but she couldn’t shake the image of him in her mind, now mixing with the images on the screen. ‘God! What am I thinking?’ she scolded herself, trying to shake off the thoughts that were slowly creeping in.

As soon as the movie ended, she made a quick decision. She wasn’t about to stick around for another awkward run-in with Levi. She didn’t need to hear his comments about her watching that type of movie by herself on a Friday night. 

Her face was still flushed from the scenes she’d just watched, and the last thing she needed was him making some comment about her choice in media. Besides, she was almost sure there would be no after-credit scenes in this one.

As the credits rolled and the lights turned back on, people started gathering their things and heading towards the exits. She quickly stood up, grabbed her popcorn and drink, and without looking back, hurried down, weaving through the small crowd and skipping a few steps as she went.

Pushing open the door, she stepped into the hallway, her pace quickening as she made her way towards the exit. But as she rounded a corner, her elbow brushed against someone, and in an instant, her drink spilled across her white t-shirt. She cursed under her breath as the cold liquid soaked through the fabric, splashing onto the floor and sending popcorn tumbling everywhere.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” she blurted out, rushing to pick up the fallen paper cup and popcorn bucket. The mess was overwhelming. Most of the drink had already soaked into her shirt, leaving her feeling embarrassed as she frantically tried to clean up.

And then, she looked up. Standing there, watching her, was Levi.

She froze. She was still kneeling on the floor, her cheeks burning. She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected to run into him again. Let alone like this. He looked a little taken aback, his expression unreadable, as he took in the scene. She could feel her face heating up even more, but she didn’t say anything. Her mouth felt dry, and she could feel the awkwardness wrapping around her, suffocating her.

As she stood up, she noticed Levi’s eyes flicker downward for a split second, widening just slightly before he looked away. It was subtle, but she caught it.

Then she realized why. The spilled drink had soaked through her shirt, and under the bright lights, her white t-shirt had turned slightly see-through, leaving little to the imagination. 

Her stomach dropped, and her face flushed intensely. She quickly pulled her jacket closed, covering herself as best she could. 

“I—I’ll just—uh, sorry,” she mumbled before she quickly turned and headed towards the bathroom. 

The bathroom was empty, as expected for this time at night. The cinema was practically deserted by now. She took her jacket off, then pulled off her shirt, trying not to think about the mess she’d just caused, leaving her in just her bra. 

She leaned over the sink, trying to scrub away the large stain from the spilled drink. The water splashed around, but the stain didn’t seem to want to go anywhere. 

She glanced up, her eyes landing on a small vending machine inside the bathroom, stocked with painkillers, tampons, and condoms. She raised an eyebrow, wondering to herself, ‘Do people actually do it in here?’

As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t ignore the redness in her cheeks. Her face was still burning, and she found herself thinking about what had just happened.

‘He probably has to clean it up,’ she thought, her stomach twisting. He was probably furious. She felt guilty, even though she knew it was an accident. 

But then, her thoughts shifted once again. ‘Why the hell do I keep thinking about him?!’ she thought frustrated, trying to focus on getting the stain out of her shirt.

Her breath caught as the thought of him mixed with scenes from the movie she’d just watched. It felt like everything was colliding all at once. The way he looked at her, and the intimate scenes she’d just seen on screen. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as her mind wandered, the images of Levi and the movie blending together in her thoughts, with herself somehow caught in the middle.

‘Gosh. What’s wrong with you?’ she scolded herself, gripping the edge of the sink.

The heat between her legs grew more intense as she imagined him standing over her, his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. She pictured the sensation of his lips against her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his hand slipping under her shirt. She couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have him inside of her, his thick cock pushing deep inside of her.

Her breath quickened as her fingers instinctively brushed against the dampness of her panties beneath her skirt. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she gently rubbed herself through the thin fabric, her mind still filled with thoughts of Levi. She could almost feel his touch against her body. Her fingers moved in slow circles, sending waves of pleasure through her core.

She leaned against the bathroom counter, her legs trembling slightly as she continued to touch herself. Her free hand gripped the edge of the sink tightly as she increased the pressure and speed of her movements. Soft whimpers echoed in the empty bathroom as she neared her peak.

Suddenly, the sound of voices in the hallway snapped her back to reality. Her eyes flew open as she yanked her hand away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. What was she doing? This was a public bathroom in a movie theater!

She shook her head, trying to bring herself back to reality. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would help clear her mind and wash away the lingering embarrassment and confusion. 

After scrubbing the last traces of the drink out of her shirt, she wrung the fabric out as best as she could. The shirt was still damp and a little cold against her skin as she put it back on, but at least it was clean. 

She slipped on her jacket and took one last look in the mirror, noticing that while her face was still flushed, but it was nowhere near the tomato-red shade it had been moments before.

She took a deep breath and opened the door of the bathroom, peeking out and glancing around to make sure Levi wasn’t lurking nearby.

Relieved to find the hallway empty, she slipped out and headed towards the exit, hoping to put this entire night behind her. But as she neared the main lobby, she slipped her hand into her jacket pocket, only to feel nothing. 

Her phone wasn’t there.

She froze mid-step, her eyes widening as she patted down her other pockets, searching. But it was no use. A sinking feeling hit her as she realized she must have left it back in the theater.

She sighed sharply as she retraced her steps in her mind. Of all nights, why tonight? She brushed her hands over her jacket one last time, then took a deep breath, accepting she’d have to go back and get it. 

Swallowing her frustration, she turned around and began the walk back towards the theater room, hoping she could just grab her phone, and get out without another awkward encounter.

She slipped back into the theater, relieved to find it empty. No Levi. Perfect. She hurried up the stairs, heading straight to her seat at the top row, scanning the floor as she approached. 

She leaned down, checking under the seat, then behind it, but her phone was nowhere to be found. Frustration started to bubble up just as she heard a voice from below.

“Forgot something?”

She froze, the annoyance hitting her instantly as she recognized that voice. With a sigh, she squinted in irritation and slowly turned around, spotting Levi at the bottom row, holding up her phone between his fingers. 

He didn’t even seem annoyed that he’d probably had to clean up her mess just a few minutes ago. He just stood there, as deadpan as ever.

She exhaled sharply, walking down the stairs to meet him. Levi watched her approach, and just as she was close enough, he tossed her phone up. 

She caught it with ease, pressing her lips together in a tight, annoyed smile as she raised her eyebrows, holding up the phone in acknowledgment. “Thanks,” she said, turning quickly to leave, hoping this would be the end of it.

But of course, Levi couldn’t resist.

“Interesting choice of film for a Friday night,” he commented dryly.

She stopped in her tracks. Really? She turned back around, rolling her eyes slightly as she tried to think of a response. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a girl enjoying… you know… erotica,” she replied, her voice coming out a bit more awkwardly than intended. 

She mentally cringed, hating that he was making her explain herself.

“If you say so.” He said unimpressed. "Must be desperate for excitement if that’s what you’re doing by yourself on a Friday night."

Her cheeks burned, but she wasn’t about to let him have the last word this time. “Not everyone watches these movies just for the scenes, you know,” she added defiantly, raising an eyebrow.

Levi paused, then looked at her with a skeptical tilt of his head, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, please. You’re not about to tell me you watched this movie for the plot.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I did,” she said, though her voice wavered a little, clearly not convincing him.

He scoffed, stepping a bit closer. “Sure. Bet you were on the edge of your seat, real invested in their deep, meaningful conversations, right?”

Her mouth opened, then shut again as she struggled for a comeback. “Some of us appreciate storytelling,” she stuttered with as much dignity as she could muster, though the faint smirk in his eyes told her he wasn’t buying a word of it.

“Right,” he replied, deadpan. “Nothing says quality storytelling like an R-rated romance movie.”

She clenched her jaw slightly, both embarrassed and annoyed. “I just wanted to experiment with something new,” she replied, crossing her arms defensively.

“Could always try meeting real people for that.” He turned away, picking up his broom to continue his work, leaving her feeling even more flustered. 

She held her ground, arms crossed, eyeing him with a smirk that dared him to react. “Says the guy who probably hasn’t even been with a woman before.”

Levi paused mid-sweep, a faint chuckle escaping as he glanced at her over his shoulder. But he didn’t get defensive. He looked almost amused. “If that’s what you think,” he replied, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he returned to his work.

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she crossed her arms a bit tighter. ‘Oh,’ she thought, her heart beating a little faster. 

Most men would get flustered or defensive at comments like that, but him? He just looked back at her, calm and unfazed. Somehow, his confidence only made him more attractive.

She took a step closer, unable to stop herself. She found herself drawn in by the tension building between them. “Really?" she challenged again playfully. “And just how many women have you been with, Mr. Janitor?”

Levi turned fully towards her. His eyes swept over her from head to toe, lingering just a bit longer than necessary before replying, making her pulse quicken.

He set the broom aside and leaned casually against the wall. "Enough to know what I'm doing," he said. 

Her pulse quickened, but she refused to back down. She held his stare, stepping even closer. "Is that so?" she murmured. 

Levi smirked, noticing how close she stood as he looked at her, her cleavage pressing against his chest. His eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What? You don’t believe me?”

Her heart raced as she met his eyes, a teasing smile pulling at her lips. Her breath quickened, but her eyes remained teasing. She stepped a fraction closer, her fingers sliding slowly up the back of his neck, her fingers into his undercut. She leaned closer, pulling him in just a little, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Maybe I need some…proof.” 

Levi’s hand shot out before she could react, his fingers threading through the back of her hair with a harsh grip, yanking her head back. The sudden force caught her off guard, and before she could protest, his lips crashed against hers. Rough, urgent, and without hesitation. 

Levi’s other hand gripped her waist as he pulled her closer, his hold tightening. His fingers dug deeper into her hair, pulling her even further into the kiss, the pressure making her breath catch in her throat.

“You want proof?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough. “You’re getting more than that.”

Her pulse quickened as her surroundings came rushing back. She glanced around, remembering they were in a movie theater. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face as she pulled back slightly, just enough to catch her breath.

“What if someone sees us?” she whispered, the thrill of the moment mixing with the risk, making her heart pound harder.

Levi closed the space between them again, his mouth brushing hers as he spoke, “No one will. The place’s closed by now. They lock up after the last show,” he murmured. 

Levi's hands slid down to her hips, gripping them firmly. His lips trailed hot kisses along her jawline and down her neck, earning a soft moan from her. 

Without warning, Levi's hands moved lower, squeezing her ass possessively. She gasped at the bold move, her body tensing briefly before melting into his touch. His strong fingers kneaded the soft flesh, pulling her even closer against him. 

Levi lifted her right leg, hooking it around his waist. The new position pressed their bodies together intimately, and her breath caught as she felt the hard bulge throbbing against her center. Even through layers of clothing, the heat radiating between them was intense. Her breath hitched as Levi ground his hips against her, the friction sending pleasure through her core. His hands gripped her other thigh, lifting her up and pressing her back against the wall. 

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he pinned her there. His mouth found her neck again. He sucked gently on her skin before trailing open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone. She tilted her head back, giving him better access as soft moans escaped her lips.

“Levi…,” she moaned.

Levi's hands slid under her jacket, his calloused fingers tracing gentle patterns on the bare skin of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. In one swift motion, he slipped the jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

She shivered, her heart racing as she felt his warm breath against her skin. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted him, how much she needed him. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

Levi’s smirk lingered as he slowly lowered her back down to the floor, his hands steady on her waist. His breath was hot against her lips before he leaned in again, capturing her mouth in a deeper, more possessive kiss. His tongue brushed softly against hers, drawing her in until she melted against him, her fingers curling into his shirt as the intensity between them grew.

She pulled away from the kiss, her heart racing as she looked up at him. Without a word, she slowly sank to her knees in front of him, her fingers trailing down his chest and abdomen as she went. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the tension in his muscles as her hands explored.

She reached for his belt. The metal felt cold against her skin as she struggled to unfasten it, overcome with excitement. After a few moments, she finally managed to undo it, the sound of metal clinking.

Her breath quickened as she tugged at his zipper, pulling it down quickly. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants, her knuckles brushing against his lower abdomen before she slowly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of him, thick and fully erect. She glanced up at him through her lashes, her cheeks flushed. 

Levi's hand tangled in her hair, guiding her closer. She parted her lips, her tongue teasingly darting out to lick the tip. She heard Levi's sharp intake of breath and felt emboldened. Slowly, she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head as she began to bob up and down his erection.

Levi groaned softly, his fingers tightening in her hair. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. 

She hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper. She could feel him hitting the back of her throat as she moved, her tongue swirling around him. Levi's grip on her hair tightened, guiding her movements.

"That's it," he murmured with desire. "Take it all."

She looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes watering slightly. The sight of her lips wrapped around him, her eyes locked on his, sent a jolt of pleasure through Levi's body. He thrust his hips forward, pushing himself further into her mouth.

Her hands gripped his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath her fingers. She quickened her pace, her head bobbing faster as she sucked him harder.

Levi's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he neared his peak. "I'm close," he warned, his voice strained.

She locked eyes with him, maintaining eye contact as she took him as deep as she could. Her throat relaxed, allowing him to slide further in. She swallowed around him, the muscles of her throat contracting.

Levi groaned deeply, his hips jerking forward. "Fuck, I'm gonna—" 

He didn’t finish his sentence before she felt his hand on the back of her head, drawing her closer. The warm liquid hit the back of her throat. She swallowed quickly, her eyes watering slightly as she took everything he gave her. 

As the last pulses lingered, Levi gently pulled out of her mouth. He looked down at her, wiping away the bit of saliva spilling from her mouth with his thumb. 

Levi pulled her to her feet, his eyes roaming over her flushed face. Without warning, he spun her around and pushed her against the wall. His hands slid up her thighs, bunching her skirt around her waist. 

"Spread your legs," he commanded.

She obeyed, her heart pounding. Levi's fingers traced teasing patterns along her inner thighs, inching higher but not quite touching where she desperately wanted him.

"Please," she whimpered, pressing her hips back against him.

Levi chuckled darkly. "Patience," he murmured, nipping at her earlobe. His fingers finally slipped through her damp panties, sliding between her folds.

She gasped as he began stroking her, his fingers circling her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance.

"So wet already," Levi murmured in her ear. "Is this what you wanted when you came to watch that movie? To be touched like this?"

She could only whimper in response as Levi slid two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that perfect spot. Her hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more friction.

Levi's other hand slid up to cup her breast through her shirt, beneath her bra, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. She arched into his touch, soft moans escaping her lips.

His fingers pumped in and out of her at a steady pace, his thumb circling her clit. The sensation had her trembling against him, her legs shaking as the pleasure built within her core.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as Levi continued to work his fingers inside her. Levi's breath was hot against her neck, his chest pressed firmly against her back as he held her in place.

With a low groan, Levi slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving her whimpering at the loss. But before she could protest, he spun her around to face him, crashing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed herself against him. Levi's hands roamed her body, one tangling in her hair while the other gripped her hip. His tongue swept into her mouth as their kiss deepened. 

Levi forcefully pulled her closer, their tongues tangled in a heated kiss. He pushed her onto one of the front-row seats, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he knelt before her, making sure she couldn't escape his grasp as their lips remained locked in passion.

His hand slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her spine as they traveled upward. She shivered, her breath hitching as he found her bra strap, his fingers pausing just briefly before unhooking it with ease. She slid the bra straps down her shoulders and tugged it free, tossing it to the floor beside them. 

Levi pulled back, his hands slid under the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly. The fabric bunched and gathered, rising up just enough to reveal her bare chest, but he stopped before taking it off completely. He paused briefly, admiring the sight before him, and then lowered his head to take one of her nipples between his lips, his tongue gently sucking and circling around it.

Levi’s other hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties under her skirt. He glanced up at her, a silent question in his eyes. She nodded, breath quickening. With a slight smile, he eased her panties down, sliding them off before spreading her legs open, revealing her pussy to him.

Her heavy breathing filled the air as she felt the cool air brush against her sensitive skin. Levi looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling her skin as he kissed her inner thigh. She shivered, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel his tongue tracing a line up her thigh, closer and closer to her entrance. Her breathing got heavier, her fingers gripping the seat as she felt his tongue brush against her.

His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open as he explored her folds with his tongue. She gasped as Levi's tongue flicked against her clit. He started slow, teasing licks that had her squirming.

"Oh god—," she moaned, her head falling back against the seat.

Levi's tongue circled her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance. He lapped at her wetness, savoring her taste as her hips bucked against his face. 

Her fingers tangled in Levi's hair, tugging lightly as pleasure coursed through her. He groaned against her, the vibrations sending sparks through her core. His tongue plunged inside her, fucking her as his nose rubbed against her clit.

"Ah, Levi," she gasped, her hips grinding against his face as waves of pleasure washed over her. His tongue worked expertly, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against her most sensitive spots.

Levi's body tensed as he watched her gentle whimpers turn into desperate moans. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and his own arousal was hard to ignore. With each movement and breath, she stirred something within him. His cock throbbed in response, and he struggled to resist the urge to take her right then and there.

Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the tension building within her. Levi sensed her approaching climax and increased his efforts, his tongue circling her clit faster as he slid two fingers inside her. He curled them upwards, stroking that perfect spot inside her as his mouth continued to work on her clit. 

"Oh god, I'm gonna—" she cried out, her back arching as her orgasm hit her hard. Her body shook with the intensity of it, waves of pleasure radiating outwards from her core. Levi didn't let up, his fingers and tongue working her through every aftershock until she collapsed. 

Her body trembled as the waves of pleasure slowly went down. Levi pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes. She was still catching her breath, eyes closed, chest rising and falling, when he stood and sat down in the seat beside her.

The distinct sound of a wrapper caught her attention, snapping her eyes open. She turned to see Levi pulling out a condom. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled it onto his already erect cock. A sharp pang of jealousy shot through her as she desperately tried to ignore the thought of him using this same routine with other girls at the movies.

She gasped, caught off guard as Levi suddenly lifted her and pulled her towards him, his hands firm on her waist. In one fluid, swift motion, he had her straddling his lap, her knees resting on either side of his legs, and her chest pressed close against his, her arms instinctively finding their way to the top of his shoulders. The unexpected intimacy left her breathless, her heart pounding as she met his intense stare. 

"You sure about this?" Levi asked. 

She nodded eagerly as she felt the head of his cock brush against her wet entrance, teasing her. "Yes, please," she breathed.

She gasped as Levi slowly guided her hips down, his thick cock stretching her as he entered her. She gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she adjusted to his size. Levi groaned softly, his hands on her waist as he helped her sink down onto him inch by inch.

"Fuck, you're tight," Levi muttered, his voice strained.

She whimpered as she finally took him all the way inside her. She paused for a moment, panting softly as she got used to the feeling of fullness. Levi's hands roamed her body, caressing her sides and back as he waited patiently for her to be ready.

After a few breaths, she began to move, rolling her hips experimentally. She slowly lifted herself, then sank back down onto Levi's cock. She started moving up and down in a gentle rhythm, enjoying every second of the feeling of him stretching and filling her with each thrust. Levi's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as he thrust up to meet her.

"God, you feel amazing," she gasped, her head falling back as pleasure coursed through her.

Levi leaned closer, pressing his face into her bouncing breasts. He kissed a path down her cleavage before taking one into his mouth and sucking eagerly, leaving behind small red marks that would surely be visible later. His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer as their pace quickened.

Her moans grew louder as Levi hit deeper inside her. She clung to him tightly, her nails digging into his back as the pleasure built. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty theater, mixing with their heavy breathing and gasps of pleasure.

Levi's hands gripped her ass, guiding her movements as he thrust up into her. He could feel her walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper with each roll of her hips.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Levi groaned in her ear.

She whimpered in response, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased her release. She moved hard against him, feeling the friction of his cock hitting all the right spots inside her.

Levi sensed her growing desperation and suddenly gripped her hips, stilling her movements. Before she could protest, Levi lifted her off him and spun her around. 

"Bend over," he commanded.

Her heart raced as she obeyed, leaning forward and gripping the seat in front of her. She felt exposed and vulnerable in this position, but the thrill of it sent shivers down her spine.

Levi's hands roamed over her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. He spread her cheeks, exposing her wet pussy to him. She gasped as she felt the head of his cock teasing her entrance once again. Without warning, Levi thrust forward, filling her completely once again.

She gasped at the sudden fullness, her fingers gripping the seat tighter as Levi began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her gasp loudly.

Levi's hands gripped her hips, steadying her as he lifted her right leg and hooked it over his shoulder, turning her onto her side, as she clung to the backrest of the seat for support. She gasped loudly as Levi slid back inside her, pumping in and out of her in the new angle allowing him to penetrate even deeper than before.

"Ah! Fuck—," she moaned, her voice trembling. 

The position left her exposed, her leg held high as Levi's hand roamed her body. His fingers trailed along her inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin before sliding up to cup her breast. She arched into his touch, her head falling back against his shoulder as pleasure coursed through her.

"Mmmph!” She bit her lower lip hard, trying to restrain her cries of ecstasy. She could feel him hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. Her body trembled, growing weak from the intense pleasure as her back arched and her head leaned against the backrest.

Encouraged by her reaction, Levi angled his hips to hit that spot repeatedly. His thrusts became harder and faster, driving her closer to the edge with each movement. She could feel herself getting close, that familiar tension building in her lower abdomen. 

"Oh god, Levi," she gasped, her voice breathy and desperate. "Don't stop. I'm so close."

Levi’s grip on her hip tightened as he continued his relentless pace. 

"You want more?" Levi asked with a smirk.

"Yes," she whimpered. "Please, I need more."

Levi's fingers found her clit, tracing circles around it in time with his thrusts. Her body trembled as Levi's fingers focused on her clit. The dual sensations of his cock hitting deep inside her and his fingers on her most sensitive spot quickly pushed her towards the edge. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps as the pressure built.

"Oh god, oh god," she chanted, her voice rising in pitch. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna—"

Her words cut off in a loud cry as her orgasm crashed over her. Her entire body contracting with release, her back arching as the pleasure radiated through her. Her cunt clenched around Levi's cock, drawing him in deeper.

Levi groaned at the feeling of her pulsing around him. He lowered her leg back to the floor before he continued thrusting through her climax, prolonging her pleasure. His movements became more erratic as he neared his own release. 

Her body trembled as the aftershocks of her peak rippled through her. Levi's breathing became ragged as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust.

"Fuck, I'm close," Levi groaned, his voice strained.

She gasped as she pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts as she felt him swell inside her. Levi let out a final, deep thrust and buried himself completely as he reached his climax. He let out a deep, raspy moan as he came, his hips jerking against her as he filled the condom.

For a moment, they stayed still, both panting heavily as they came down from their highs. Slowly, Levi’s grip on her relaxed and he slowly pulled out, causing her to whimper softly at the loss. He carefully removed the condom, tying it off and setting it aside to dispose of later.

She sat up properly in her seat, pulling her shirt down and fixing her skirt, just as Levi pulled up his pants before sitting beside her. They both sat quietly, their breathing slowly going back to normal.

She could feel the heat from Levi's body next to hers. Her skin felt warm and damp with sweat.

She ran a hand through her messy hair, trying to smooth it down.

Levi leaned his head back against the seat. She glanced over at him, taking in his profile in the dim light. She felt unsure what to say or do now that the heat of the moment had passed.

After a few moments of silence, Levi turned his head slightly, his expression was unreadable as ever. He looked directly at her eyes and she felt her face heating up, suddenly shy in the aftermath of their encounter. 

"So...that happened," she murmured.

Levi exhaled quietly, a faint hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. "Not something you usually do on a Friday night, I assume." His tone was as dry as usual, but there was a hint of warmth underneath.

She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. "Yeah. Definitely not. This was...unexpected."

"Beats watching those cheesy romance movies alone, doesn't it?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling."Some of those movies have their charms."

"Sure they do," Levi replied dryly. 

They fell into silence again, but it felt more comfortable now. Her mind was racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. Part of her couldn't believe she'd just had sex with the grumpy janitor in an empty movie theater. Another part of her was already wondering if it would happen again.

"What about you? Is this... a regular thing for you?" She asked.

Levi's expression remained neutral. "Fucking strangers in the theater? Can't say it is." He said looking up at the ceiling.

She bit her lip, hesitating before speaking again. "I'm Y/N, by the way… In case you were wondering who you just… you know."

"Levi," he replied, even though she had just moaned his name a few moments ago.

"So..." she started hesitantly. "Do you make a habit of this? Hooking up with girls after hours?"

Levi turned to look at her fully, his expression serious.

"No," Levi said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. “I don’t. Not really my thing."

Levi’s words hung in the air for a moment before her mind caught up with them. She blinked, trying to process what he had just said. “Wait, really?”

Levi turned his head slightly, his expression blank. “Why would you think otherwise?” he asked.

She bit her lip, feeling a flush creep up her neck. She shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Well… you had a condom,” she murmured, glancing away. “Kinda seemed like you carry those around at work… you know, just in case.”

Levi’s expression remained deadpan. “I don’t carry them for fun. I have to refill those stupid vending machines in the bathrooms,” he said flatly. “It’s just part of the job.”

She blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected that answer. Her mind raced as the details sank in, and it actually made sense.

“Oh,” she said, a small laugh escaping her. “Well, that’s... practical.”

Levi nodded as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’d be surprised how often people go to the bathroom for more than just business,” he added disgusted.

Her cheeks burned, and she couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly. The memory of her rushing into the bathroom just a few minutes ago flooded back “Yeah,” she said awkwardly. “That’s... weird.”

They sat in silence for another moment, the air between them charged with an unfamiliar tension. 

Her mind raced, unsure what to do or say next. Part of her wanted to lean in and kiss him again, to see if the spark was still there. Another part felt suddenly self-conscious, hyperaware of her messy appearance and the fact that she had just fucked a man she barely knew.

"So,” Levi said, snapping her out of her thoughts, and breaking the silence. “You got anything else planned for tonight?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her. 

She was caught off guard by the question. She hesitated for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts before answering, "Uh...no, not really," she said. 

She hadn't expected him to ask her something so casual, especially after everything that had just happened.

Levi’s lips curled into a sly smirk, his eyes filled with intrigue as he leaned in closer. He gently lifted her chin and tilted her head back, causing her to look up at him.

"Good," he said as he ran his thumb down her lip, watching her closely as she trembled under his touch. "Because I'm not done with you yet."