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kamiversee · 2 days ago

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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

11 | what this is

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, heavy sexual tension, teasing, taunting, possessiveness, jealous men, drama, toxicity, alcohol, tw; spitting, dirty talk, dry humping, tw: mean cliffhanger (sorry not sorry lol), etc...

❧ Word Count | 6.1k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Whispering near your lips, Choso had taken a step even closer to you and placed his gloved hand upon the right side of your waist.

Then he tugged you closer as if to emphasize his words, “Cat got your tongue, princess? Or, what, are you replaying our moments together?” You were. “Am I finally occupying your mind again?” Choso utters even lower than before as he takes your chin into his other hand and tips your head up—causing your lips to actually brush against his. “C’mon, talk to me, argue with me, say something-, anything.”

Your voice comes out airy and you hate the way he seems to have you all wrapped around his finger. “Y-You’re insufferable.” With tense brows and a body that unfortunately won’t move against his hold, you gape at him with this burning feeling on your skin at his every touch.

Choso smiles, “Was I insufferable while I was riiight…” The hand on your waist slides over to your stomach and his thumb presses just below your belly button, “Here? Hm?” He applies a bit more pressure there and you gasp. “Or, again, do you only ever think of me when Gojo denies you of sex?”

“No, Choso. It’s not like that,” You huff out, despite the flashbacks replaying in your mind and the tingle that just ran up your spine. “You just… Every conversation with you now revolves around one thing; sex. It’s all you ever bring up with me and I am tired of it, okay? I’ve told you no and yet you keep trying—“

“You keep letting me try,” He cuts off rudely, sliding his thumb up to your bottom lip. “Even right now, you’ve yet to smack my hands away or even tell me to stop touching you. I wonder why that is.”

Well, shit. You can’t even explain it yourself. Maybe it’s because deep down inside you know that you and Choso’s relationship has always been like this. You’ve always let him tease and taunt you to degrees that know no end. From the day you first met to now, you still can’t find it in you to pull yourself away from his touch.

You prove his point instantly with the way you let him slip his thumb in between your glossed lips, watching the way he smiles slightly at the sight. “I know you don’t have any feelings for me but,” Choso pressed his thumb down on your bottom row of teeth just a bit, allowing your lips to part open and for your breaths to mingle with one another. “Your body damn sure does.”

Ever so softly, you whine. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

“‘Course I did, baby. I get it, I bring the sex up all the time but can you really blame me?” Yes. “You ‘n I have almost gotten to that point how many times before it actually happened?” He asks rhetorically, “And then, the only reason it finally happened is because of this lil’ crush you have on Gojo?? Hah, why would I stop trying when I know you don’t want me to?”

The daggers you're shooting him via gaze seem not to phase him in the slightest. Maybe, just maybe, he had a point here. You hated the way he was reading through you right now, knowing you couldn’t really argue with him. No matter what you say, your body language will always be your truth. Even now as he allows his eyes to glide down to your lips that are practically on his, you can hardly even form a thought to tell yourself to pull away.

Tell him to stop. Tell him to go away. Tell him to let go of you and leave you the hell alone. That’s what you want, isn’t it??

…So why are you letting him slide his thumb out your mouth and gently force your lips into a pout? Why do you let him move both of his hands to your waist and hold you like he’s your boyfriend or something? And why, just why, do you let him press his lips against yours so faintly that it’s almost as though he didn’t just kiss you??

“You're not dating him,” Choso reminds you—which stings because you wish you were. Maybe then you’d find it in you to tell Choso to back off. “So like, if you simply don’t want me at all, jus’ say that.”

You can’t. Physically, mentally, whatever-the-fuck-lly, you cannot find it anywhere in yourself to tell Choso Kamo that you don’t want him in any way. Perhaps it was because of the crush you had on him years ago. Maybe those teenage feelings never really died off like you thought they did and now they’ve returned in the worst way possible.

It sucks because you know in your head you don’t want to date Choso. You know you want to go be with Gojo. But there’s just this little void space in between all of that in which you’re conflicted. Call you Hannah Montana with the way you want the best of both worlds.

You want the affection you receive from both men simultaneously.

But, at the same time, you don’t. At the same time, all you can do is replay Gojo’s smile in your head, his voice, his touches, his tenderness, and then it all just feels right. With Choso there’s just this constant battle you’re fighting where it feels so wrong but so damn good at the same time.

“I can’t,” You eventually mutter, finally turning your head off to the side. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Cho. I just… I told you before I’m—“

“Woahhhhh,” Another, terrifyingly familiar voice comes bursting into the kitchen. At the sound of it, your body is motionless and you’re lucky Choso swiftly slides his hands off of you to shove them into his pockets. “What’s goin’ on in heree?” Gojo’s slightly slurred tone hits your ear and your eyes are wafting away from Choso in search.

You end up tipping your body to the side to spot Gojo stumbling his way deeper into the kitchen. The button-up shirt he's got on beneath the vest he’s wearing is unbuttoned significantly lower than before and you note how his cheeks are reddened more.

Choso looks back at the guy from over his shoulder, not making an effort to remove the distance between your body and his whatsoever. Your eyes rake over your crush's staggering frame and you quickly note that he’s drunk.

Or at least, you thought he was until his eyes were setting on you peeking around Choso’s body and how close you were to the guy. From Gojo’s angle of view, he could tell your body was practically pressed up against Choso’s. The two of you didn’t have any hands on one another by the time he gathered the sight but the proximity alone was enough to sober him up for a moment.

The lazy smile Gojo had on his face flickered slightly as he took long strides over to the two of you. His next actions are smooth. Gojo brushes past Choso but hooks an arm around your waist in the process, soon finding himself standing on your right side and pulling you up close to him. Choso lets his eyes trail Gojo and his possessive little movements, cocking an irritated grin at the sight.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Gojo asks Choso, sizing him up and down. Suddenly, there’s less of a slur to his words in comparison to moments before.

Choso has to clench his jaw a bit to bite back every snarky response that nearly rolled off of his tongue just now. Desperately does he want to tell Gojo about how this isn’t the first time he’s interrupted something intimate with you. Last time you and Choso were about to have sex again before he came knocking on the apartment door and now he had interrupted you in explaining your feelings to Choso.

So, to hold himself back, Choso scoffs in Gojo’s face and looks off to the side. “Nah man, you’re fine.” He replies dryly. The next thing that leaves his lips is a bit of an accident but he just can’t help himself, “Me ‘n her live together so I’m sure we can continue our talk later, right?” Choso asks with a glance at you.

You can feel Gojo’s fingers gripping onto your waist a little tighter as if to silently tell you something. Whatever it is though, you’re unsure of. “Right,” You murmur softly.

Gojo’s brows rise in interest. “You two were pretty close to each other just now for a convo that’s bein’ saved for later…” He points out.

“We’ve been closer,” Choso regrettably snaps back. Fuck, you even see the recoil on his face as his eyes squeeze shut for a second, clearly regretting the words that just left him.

Drunk or not, the gears in Gojo’s head begin to grind. He’s not stupid, far from it, so he can infer the implications behind such a statement. Lucky for you, the alcohol in his system does interfere with him jumping to the right assumptions. “Yeah? I’m sure you guys have,” Gojo says, looking down at you, “You two have been friends for uh,” He clicks his tongue, “Eight years, no?”

“Just about,” Choso replies for you, both of their eyes set on you.

You gulp and try to play off how nervous you are with a slight chuckle. Then you turn more into Gojo and distract him with a hug. Placing your chin on his chest, you angle your head up to look at him, “What’re you doin’ in here anyways? I thought you went to go sit down?”

Just the sight of you hugging Gojo and staring up at him is enough to piss Choso off albeit clearly unintentional.

Gojo, who oddly adores Choso's audience at the moment, places his hands on your sides, exactly where Choso’s touch was just a few seconds before he came into the kitchen. “I did but then Suguru found me and wanted me to take some shots with him. Right after that, I started missin’ you sooo, I came to find ya’.” He explains with this doting look in his eyes.

You smile, “Aw, you really do get clingy when drunk, huh?”

“I tried to warn you,” Gojo snickers softly before leaning down.

He was moving to kiss you. You don’t know why but you panic.

Choso’s still standing there quietly waiting for you two to remember his presence, watching the whole thing and… seeing things you don’t.

Now, if you pulled away from Gojo, he would have known something was up so, you don’t. Because of that and the way your eyes shut to allow him to kiss you, you miss the way Gojo keeps his eyes open just to glare at Choso while his lips slot onto yours.

Choso meets said glare and his heart aches in his chest. Every thought of his is screaming to blurt out the fact that he’s done exactly what Gojo’s doing now, years before Gojo even knew who you were. Choso wants to throw it in Gojo’s face how he’s seen the expressions you make when you’re making the filthiest lil’ mess around his cock. He wants to explain how Gojo’s likely temporary for you and how you’ll always end up coming right back into his arms the moment the guy fucks up.

To make matters worse, Gojo smiles against your lips. While your best friend didn’t exactly say anything, his face was doing all the talking right now. Which was enough to lead Gojo into bringing a hand down to your ass and squeezing before he finally shuts his eyes and kisses you properly.

You hum at the sudden push of his lips against you and then jump against his hold the moment his hand smacks your ass. “Satoru,” You utter between his kisses, earning a low grunt from his throat before his lips detach from yours.

Gojo takes one long look at your face, feeling Choso’s eyes still on him, and then he smirks. His free hand moves to your lips, exactly like how your best friend did, and spreads your lips apart. “Hold on, stick out your tongue f’me,” Gojo instructs. You’re confused but, you do it anyway.

Gojo huffs a small scoff through his nose, glances at Choso one more time, and then looks at you. “You came in here for somethin’ to drink right?” He’s not about to do what you think he is, is he? “Lemme give you a taste of what I’ve been sippin’ on, yeah?”

You’re not sure what’s worse. The way your tongue rolls out a bit further in anticipation, the fact that Choso’s watching this, or the fact that Gojo actually lets a filthy glob of spit waft down onto your tongue… And then to top it all off, you swallow it down with no hesitation.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Gojo whispers, leaning in to kiss you again.

This time you pull back and turn your head, “Enough Satoru. Choso’s standing right—“

“Nah, pretend I’m not even here, honestly,” Choso comments finally, his hands balled into fists within the confines of his pockets. “That’s what you’ve been doin’ all night anyway,” He mutters beneath his breath whilst his feet swivel against the ground. “I’ll just uh, go ahead ‘nd see my way out.” Is the last thing said before you turn your head back and see him snatching up his drink from the counter.

“Wait,” You huff, breaking away from Gojo’s touches entirely. You hurry over to Choso and whisper, “We’ll talk more tonight, okay? I promise.”

Choso’s gaze flickers in sincerity at your words. “You promise?” He whispers back.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Alright.” He says to you before doing one last thing as if to get back at Gojo’s recent display of affection. Choso takes hold of one of your hands and carefully yanks your body toward him. He wraps his arms around your waist and hugs you—appearing as though he were embracing you just to say bye.

But, because of a certain pair of blue eyes watching his every move, Choso smirks and moves his lips to press against your ear with a soft-spoken voice. “I’ll see you later tonight then.” He tells you.

After which, Choso looks at something (more like someone) behind you and then smiles fully. Whatever he was just trying to accomplish has certainly worked. And with that, he pulls away from you and leaves the kitchen with a slight wave of his hand.

You found that… weird. Why did he hug you and whisper in your ear like that all of a sudden? It’s not like he said anything incriminating. You shrug Choso’s oddness off and turn back around.

Coming face first with the man, Gojo’s now standing a lot closer than where you’d left him. For the nth time of the day, you flinch out of surprise. “Satoru, shit. I thought you were—“

“You done?” Gojo breathes out all of a sudden.

Your brows pinch up and you hum. “What? Done with what?”

“This party,” He clarifies, his expression unreadable. “I’m ready to go.”

“We’ve only been here for like thirty minutes,” You tell him with a weary smile on your face. “What’s wrong?”

Gojo stares at you as if you should be able to read his mind or something but, the truth is, his expression tells you nothing. He looks like he’s pissed off? But, he also looks like he’s fine? You’re unsure of what to make of his face right now.

“I just,” He pauses, clearly deciding his words carefully before he sighs. “I wanna be alone with you for a sec'.”

You glance around the kitchen, “We’re alone right now?”

Gojo shakes his head, “I mean, somewhere more private.”

“Ah,” You nod. “Do you wanna go find a room?”

“There’s a couple fucking in almost every one,” He tells you, cringing at the flashback. “I stumbled into a few while lookin’ for the bathroom. But uhm, what about my car?”

“That seems private enough... Are you sure everything’s okay?” You ask with a concerned tilt of your head.

Gojo’s eyes look almost tired, the emotion in them unrecognizable to you. With another sigh, he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess so. I… I don’t know, jus’ want you to myself for a second, alright?” There’s this sudden attitude that pops off in his words and it makes your heart twinge funnily. Then he’s stepping past you and walking away as if he wants you to follow him.

You’re wildly confused but, you do anyway.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

The walk to Gojo’s car is almost awkward for you. With no idea what’s gotten into him so suddenly, he just seems grumpy the whole way there. Even as Shoko bumps into you two on the way out, dressed as a doctor, she doesn’t even get a cheerful response from him like normal.

There are some other now familiar faces you pass but every time you stop to wave or to see what they're trying to say to you, Gojo ends up grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

By the time you reach his car, he has the two of you shuffling into the back seat instead of the front for reasons you’re unsure of.

Again, it’s awkward as a moment of silence passed with just you and him sitting inside. The distant sounds of the party can still be heard but it’s weird for you to be out here with Gojo instead of in there partying when he’s the one who invited you out to this whole thing. Why was he acting like this—

Gojo says your name suddenly and your head turns to him. He’s already looking at you but what surprises you is how he leans closer. “Can I kiss you?” He requests, throwing you all the way off.

Did he… Did he really just pull you out of the party just to kiss you in private?? Had you misinterpreted his past few public kisses and touches for something else? What the hell is going on? Why did he—

“Please,” Gojo’s face is now right in front of yours and his lips are hardly an inch away. “Jus’ one,” When is it ever just one with this man… and why does that questioning thought give you this sense of deja vu?

Despite the raging questions and confusion swirling in your head, you nod.

Gojo presses his lips to yours and you feel weird for a second. Maybe it was the lack of understanding that really turned you off or maybe it was the alcohol resting on his lips that you hadn’t noticed earlier but either way, you feel odd.

He pulls away when he notices you’re not kissing back like normal and his eyes soften, “What’s wrong?” Gojo asks.

You fold your arms, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I mean, yeah but—“

“No, Satoru. No buts, what the hell is wrong with you?” You snap all of a sudden. Half of you doesn’t even know where this sudden irritation is coming from. “You do all of that weird shit in front of Choso and then drag me out the party just to kiss me? I don’t understand. Why show off whatever it is we have in front of Choso but not anyone else? A-Are you trying to keep us as some sort of secret..?”

Gojo mistakenly scoffs at your words. Right in front of your face too. “What?” He breathes. “What ‘weird shit’ did I do in front of him? And what do you mean ‘keep us as some sorta’ secret’? We’re not together.”

That stung. Again. Just like when Choso reminded you earlier except it hurt significantly worse coming from Gojo himself.

“I-I’m talking about the touching, the kissing, the…” You hate it but there’s a shake in your voice now. Stuttered over a few words and your emotions conflicting inside you. “T-The spitting into my mouth. I obviously don’t mind it but it’s confusing when you do that and then drag me all the way out here because you don’t want anyone else seeing us do those things.”

He shifts, sliding back into his seat and weighing his head to the side. Gojo’s eyes narrow, “Who said I didn’t want anyone else seeing us do those things?”

“Your actions did,” You explain, just barely keeping your gaze on him.

He smirks but you can tell he’s frustrated. “You think I brought you out here to hide the stuff we do together??”

“That’s what it seems and feels like, yes—“

“No, I brought you out here because I needed a moment to just be with you,” Gojo interrupts, rolling his eyes away from you and slumping back against the seat. “Alone. I was irritated about something and being alone with you always calms me down.”

You slide a bit closer to him and lean your head to the side a bit to gain the eye contact back, “Irritated about what?”

He’s quiet for a while. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at you—just lets his aggravation fester inside him. At some point, his leg starts bobbing up and down and he glances to his left to look out the window.

Gojo’s met with the view of the neighboring house to the one the party’s taking place at. There’s no one over there at the moment, the lights are all off, and the entire vibe is different from the house just across the street. It’s a nice contrast to the chaos elsewhere.

It’s slow but, Gojo finally responds to you in monotone, “Seein’ Choso’s grimy hands all over your fuckin’ body.”

You had a feeling that's what it was but, you could never be too sure.

“So…” You scoff, “You got jealous.”

Gojo’s face twists up and he swivels his head to look at you, flinching slightly at how close you’ve gotten to him. “The fuck? Jealous? Me?” He spits out to you, trying to play off his initial surprise at seeing the lessened space between you two.

“Yeah you, who the hell else?” You bite back, sizing him up and down and scrunching your face up.

Gojo almost finds the mirrored expression cute. “I wasn’t jealous.” He tells you.

“So why did it bother you that he touched me the way he did?” Your question makes him swallow thickly but you don’t stop there, “Especially if uh, ‘we’re not together’?”

You don’t know it but those words burn him in the same way they burned you. It’s an irritating reminder because he has no business feeling the way he does considering that.

Gojo’s upper lip twitches a bit, “Cause I just didn’t like it.”

“That’s called jealousy.”

“I wasn’t fuckin’ jealous!” He huffs.

To which you smile. Then you’re moving over some more and he’s following every shift of your body until you throw a leg over his and straddle him. Gojo’s looking up at you now but the tension in both the car and your faces has yet to fade.

Although, there is this sudden softness to your tone that makes him gulp again. “There’s nothing wrong with it, y’know. It’s okay to be jealous.” As you explain, your hands go to his shoulders and you hear him sigh.

“Is it?” Gojo questions in an equally softened tone.

“Yeah,” You hum, “It would help me understand you if you admit that’s what this whole thing is about.”

He shakes his head, his hands sliding up to relax on your thighs. “No, because when I get jealous over stuff, I think about doing stupid shit.”

With your brows shooting up in a mix of curiosity and concern, “Like what?” You ask him.

“Like fuckin’ you in front of Choso,” Gojo replies almost immediately.

You blink. “So, you’re admitting it?”

His eyelids lowered, “That I was jealous?”

The tension in the car has… shifted.

“Yeah,” You utter gently, not yet sitting on top of him but just barely hovering over him.

“I guess so, I dunno.” Gojo huffs. His hands travel up to your hips and he squeezes, “I just… Maybe it’s the alcohol but I can’t fuckin’ think straight.”

You frown and lean forward, looping your arms around his neck, “So talk to me then.”

“I can’t. My head’s all over the place,” He admits to you. Truth be told, Gojo doesn’t know how to handle what he’s feeling right now. This is.. unusual for him. “Part of me wants to ignore whatever the fuck I’m feelin’ and just go back inside with you and the other part of me wants to…”

You tilt your head, a small act he finds so intoxicatingly attractive at the moment. “Wants to what?” You inquire.

“Fuck you to prove a point I don’t have to,” He admits begrudgingly.

His admission only makes you chuckle. You can’t say you woke up expecting to encounter a jealous Gojo today but, here you are straddling him. You’re not seated on top of him fully just yet, it’s more like your thighs are resting over his but there’s this small sliver of space between your crotch and his.

The heated tension from earlier has shifted into a very apparent sexual tension. You can feel it in his touch as he slips his fingertips upward to hold your exposed waist before sliding them back down to your hips.

Technically speaking, Gojo’s been itching to get like this with you since the two of you were dancing earlier. That’s part of why he came to the kitchen to look for you. He has no trouble controlling himself but drinking never really helps him balance his hormones properly. That, and he didn’t want both of you to be drunk the first time you have sex.

And yes, that does say that he intended to have sex with you today. Not that he planned it from the day prior or anything like that but, sometime throughout that party, Gojo told himself he’d rather die than go home without having you in some way shape, or form.

He’d never force you into anything, of course. But, you let him give you head before so, surely you’d let him do that again?

Though, that’s not what he wants now. Not when you’re seated on top of him, not when your skin is reacting to every slip of his fingers, and certainly not when he wants to fuck every thought of Choso out of that pretty lil’ head of yours.

“What kinda point are you trying to prove?” You soon ask with a breathy laugh leaving your supple lips that Gojo keeps glancing at.

He shrugs, “Told you I can’t think straight so, I don’t even know.” Oh but he does know. He wants to prove that the relationship he has with you currently trumps whatever the fuck you and Choso have. Who cares if you and that dickhead have been friends for eight years? The way you’re looking at Gojo right now alone outweighs that tenfold. Right?

Maybe he’s just in his head too much right now—unsure how to juggle this feeling in his chest. So, Gojo just tugs your upper half closer, causing your tits to press against his chest before he buries his face into your neck. The tip of his nose runs against your skin and he inhales, his breath hitching midway through due to the smell of another guy on you.

Annoyed, Gojo quickly presses wet kisses into your neck and you jump in surprise.

“S-Satoru,” You stammer, finding the sudden kissing ticklish and trying not to laugh. “Hey, woah, what are you d-doing,” You snort and a smile spreads across your face, “That tickles-, hey.”

He pauses himself just below your jawline, having heard the sudden breathiness of your tone. “You smell like him too,” Gojo tells you before latching his lips onto the area he’d previously stopped at, suckling your skin into his mouth. Your head tips back like it’s natural for you to do so and he grins into your skin. “I hate it.”

Chuckling again, “Just come out ‘n say you're jealous already—“

“I’m jealous,” Gojo states hotly into your neck. Angling himself downwards, he licks you, “Soo fuckin’ jealous, sweetheart.”

You hate the way his words make you feel so stupidly happy. Gojo Satoru, jealous because of you? Oh you’re in heaven right now considering your feelings for him. “Satoru.” You end up gasping as he nips you.

“More of that,” He breathes.

You sigh and a faint whine exits your throat, “M-More of what?”

Gojo’s sucking and tugging at your neck with his lips, leaving mark after mark on you as if they’re rightfully supposed to be there. “My name on your tongue.” He soon hums lowly, having moved to the center of your throat.

Just as he says that his hands force you to sit on him fully. The sudden contact of his hard cock pressing up against your clothed cunt makes you gasp louder than before, “Oh fuck…” You murmur, surprised you can even feel how painfully erect he is through all the thick layers of leather and the fabric of his pants. “‘Toru,” Whining now, he can only smile.

He’s trying so hard not to grind himself up against you but the sounds you’re letting out really aren't making things any easier for him. “Mh? Feel that?” He asks with a tip of his head and a messy slide of his lips over your neck.

“Mhm,” You hum sexually, testing the waters a bit with a small roll of your hips forward.

Gojo pries away from your throat with a wet pop, admiring his work for a second. Then, he flicks his eyes up to your awfully needy face, “You want it or what?”

“Here?” You squeak in surprise, “I-In your car?”

Gojo pulls back a bit and smiles knowingly, “Would you rather us do it outside and against the car..?”

God, you hate how much of a tease he is. “No! I just…” Even the way your lashes bat ever so softly has Gojo’s cock twitching. “What if someone sees—“

“Girl,” He scoffs sassily, rolling his eyes at you for the nth time. “I have tint on my windows, the hell do you take me for? Hm?” He asks, expecting no sort of answer as his hands tighten on your hips and he looks down. “Pluuus, look at you. Your body wants it.”

You’ve been almost unconsciously grinding against him ever since he pressed you down against himself. His eyes watch in a daze as you skillfully rock yourself back and forth and back and forth over his throbbing cock. He’s so turned on that it’s starting to hurt not being inside you right now.

Then your voice hits his ears in that softer aroused tone he recognizes and fuck is his tip leaking in pre against his boxers. “How long have you been hard?” You ask.

He doesn’t need even a second to think about it, “I told you I was earlier.”

“I didn’t think you were serious!” You puff out.

Gojo runs his hands up along your body, his touch smoother than ever as he leans back some more, glides his hands up to your waist, and spreads his legs a bit further. “Doesn’t take much for you to turn me on, pretty girl.” He comments, voice growing raspier.

Just that simple statement makes you so insanely wet. He was very specific with his words just now. It doesn’t take much for you to turn him on. Your hormones are starting to make you dizzy at this point and all you can do is bite back a moan, “Shut up—“

“Ride me,” Gojo commands abruptly.

“H-Huh?” You gape, hips jerking against him.

He smirks, “I didn’t stutter. Ride me, baby.” Gojo repeats casually. Then he tips his head back and the angle of his annoyingly attractive features just does it for you. Especially as the next set of lewd words come rolling off his tongue, “Put that pretty pussy on me, c’mon.”

You slap a hand over his mouth. “How did we even get here…” Are you seriously trying to backtrack this conversation? Yes. You two were bickering just a few moments ago… “Weren’t we arguing?”

He shrugs, “We can continue that while my cock’s inside you if you want.”

“Satoru.” You say sternly.

“If you don’t want to, just say that.”

“But…”

A beat of silence passes, the air only consisting of the messy friction occurring between your crotch and his. That, and your syncing breathing as the two of you stare intimately into each other's eyes. All you can do is replay the time he was in between your legs and…

“…You want it, don’t you?” Gojo points out.

Suddenly too shy to speak, you carefully nod your head with a soft hum of agreement.

Gojo bites his lower lip and then scoffs eagerly. “So take it,” He tells you, slumping back against his seat again and rolling his hips up against you. “It’s allll yours. Every fuckin’ inch.”

With a frustrated little puff of air leaving your lips, you lean forward and connect your mouth with his—both of you groaning into one another. Searing against him, your hands start moving to undress him. “You’re annoying, y’know that?” You huff into his mouth.

Gojo only chuckles and his hands are working your clothes off just as well as you are for him. “Yet you still got on top of me, right?” He teases, kissing you back messily as you snag his shirt off and fling it elsewhere. “Still wanna fuck me,” Gojo snickers.

Your hands move down to the thick buckle of his pants and he’s pulling the knot of your top loose. “Yeah, to get you to shut up for a second.”

“Oh really?” His smirk widens, “Sure it’s not so I can prove that point of mine?” As he asks that, you’re tugging his belt off and tossing it while he’s taking his hands off of you for a second just to watch you undress him.

You have to hover over him again as you continue this semi-heated conversation with him. Whether or not the discussion is heated with sexual tension or aggravated tension, you’re unsure. “You never told me what that point was so, no.” You quip.

Gojo feels his breath catch in his throat when your fingers begin working his pants off. “Wanna prove I’m better.” He tells you hoarsely.

Once his slacks are tugged down his thighs, he’s helping you by kicking them off. Now he’s only clad in his boxers—how strange considering you’re still dressed. Kinda reminds him of the last time you two did something sexual except the roles were reversed. “Who’s to say you haven’t already?” You soon ask him as you lean back and begin to work your shorts off.

Gojo’s hands move like magnets with the way they find your hips again, assisting you in removing those teasing shorts of yours, “The way he looks at you.”

“I don’t understand,” You’re shuffling your legs around, working clothes off within the space of his car, and yet the conversation is still carried out seamlessly.

“He looks at you the same way I do but…” Gojo unintentionally flings your shorts elsewhere the very second they’re off of you and then he quickly maneuvers you back on top of him. “More fuckin’ smug. Can’t stand it.”

Teasingly, you chuckle. “Yeah?”

“Oh don’t tease me about this shit, I’m not joking,” He argues, taking a second to stare at the sexy black fabric of your panties. Gojo thinks he drools for a second but you can’t tell with the way the rest of his sentence comes flying out, “It pisses me the fuck off.”

“So, what,” You scoff. “Are you gonna take it out on me then?” Your voice leaves in a seductive whisper that prompts the man to look up at you, feeling your arms wrap around his neck again.

“Nahh, ‘course not,” Gojo whispers back.

Your brows meet, “Then what—“

“I’m gonna fuck it into you.” He cuts off, feeling you plop yourself back onto him fully. Both of you moan in unison given the two flimsy layers of fabric in between you.

“F-Fuck what into me?” You ask confusedly. Your eyes soften and Gojo’s fighting every cell in his body not to flip you over, pin you down, and fuck you til’ his balls run dry.

He’s losing it, truly.

“A kid if you keep lookin’ at me like that,” He says playfully.

Your eyes go all wide but your cunt throbs at the idea (?), “Satoru!”

“I’m joking,” He laughs. “But my name will be the only thing this pussy remembers in a few minutes…”

And that’s… Well, that’s not far off from the truth whatsoever.

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hannyoontify · 3 days ago

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seventeen '95 line as things that have made my heart flutter before

warnings | none?

notes | source? erm possibly my own... experiences from the past..... ;;; i actually wanted to do all 13 before publishing but i js couldn't wait LMFAO i'm still writing the rest there's a good chance that i might upload all 4 lines in one day not proofread

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

seungcheol - calling you in the morning with his morning voice

you’re brushing your teeth, staring off into space and thinking that it’s too early for you to be awake when you hear your phone buzz on the marble counter. reaching over, you answer the call once you recognized the caller ID.

“hello?”

“g’morning…” the voice on the other end sends a shiver down your spine and kickstarts a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. “dreamt of you last night.”

the fluttering, overwhelming feeling migrates from your stomach to your chest. your brain goes static as you try and get over the initial shock of how deep and husky seungcheol’s voice currently was.

“i-it’s 7 in the morning, cheol. why are you calling me so early?”

you could almost hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. “i missed you.”

a rush of heat hits your face and you’re suddenly thankful that this was a voice call. “wh- whatever… you’re going to be seeing me in an hour anyway.”

seungcheol hums over the line. “mmm… i’m not sure if i can wait until then.”

“i’m hanging up!” you say hurriedly. you could physically no longer handle that man’s flirting and that damn low voice of his. you needed to give him a stern talking to when you got to school.

jeonghan - touching your ear whenever he’s bored

“hannie…”

“hm?”

“are my ears that soft?” you squirm in your spot at the tickling feeling on your spot the couch as jeonghan’s fingers absentmindedly gave your ear light touches and tugs. he looks up from his phone and sheepishly pulled his hand away.

“sorry, i didn’t realize” before he fully retracts his hand, his finger skims your cheek and gives it a slight pinch before place his hand in his hoodie pocket. you contemplatively lick your lips before opening your mouth to talk again.

“i... never said i didn’t like it…” your voice is so quiet jeonghan almost didn’t hear you. almost.

but jeonghan always hears you.

he gives you a sly grin before reaching out and giving your earlobe a gentle tug. “i didn’t realize i was doing it either. i know it started as a joke but… i think i made it a habit.”

jeonghan inches closer to you on the couch, his knee grazing yours. “you’re my little stress ball now.”

“are you stressed?” you furrow your brows in worry and jeonghan smiles.

“not when i’m with you.”

another gentle tug. except, this time, it's not on your ear.

spoiler alert: it's your heart.

joshua - humming and strumming the guitar in an empty room

the living room is bustling. you’re not sure what you were expecting when your friend seungkwan said he was having a small holiday get-together, but it definitely wasn’t this. you can’t even walk from the kitchen to the living room without stepping on someone’s foot, and you were pretty sure there was a DJ in the house somewhere.

desperate for a break from the crowd, you manage to squeeze through the countless bodies and go upstairs, where it’s virtually empty. the contrast between the loud and busy first floor and peaceful second floor felt borderline holy.

you’re wandering around the second floor, happy to escape the chaos of the first floor when you hear the quiet strum of a guitar reverberating through the hallways.

you halt and listen keenly as you try and locate where the sound was coming from. following the sweet melody of the guitar, you soon hear a voice accompanying the instrument. the door in front of you is cracked open and you peek inside, trying to identify who the talented musician was.

inside the room was joshua, an acoustic guitar propped on his knee as he strums the instrument, his fingers skillfully moving against the frets with gentle hums. his eyes are closed as he fully immerses in the music.

you stand by the doorway, arms crossed against your chest as you watch him. your lips are tugging into a small smile and you felt a gentle fluttering in your stomach. the final note hangs in the air and you hold your breath as you feel your heart rate beginning to speed up at the sight of joshua’s small smile.

his eyes slowly open and your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. joshua grins when he recognizes you.

“any song requests?”

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

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dark-and-kawaii · 1 day ago

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⋆｡˚꒰ঌ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Lᴀᴍʙ ໒꒱˚｡⋆

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ — Summary: You could feel his cum from the previous rounds sloshing around in your gut, the excess bubbling out with each thrust.

“Who said you can rest, little lamb?”

Sukuna lifted your limp body with ease, his nails kissing your hips as he held your abused hole above his thick cock. The king of curses cum drooled from your aching cunt, making quite the mess on his lap, “Is this really the best your body can do? How disappointing.” He mocks, “We were only just getting started.”

His lips pulled into a sharp grin as his third hand tightened around your thigh to spread your leg wider for him. The tip of his cock teasing your opening, pushing into the sloppy mess your body was.

You were so tired… So, so tired… Sore, and exhausted.

You had lost count of how many times you came and how many times Sukuna did. But you still couldn't help but cry out as he impaled you on his beautiful veiny cock once again, your head lolled back before your body slumped forward onto his chest, “Ahhh~♡ Su-Sukuuuna~ Th-e tip of y-your dick and n’my cervix are touching n’kissing each other~~~♡ Aahh~ It h-hurts so s’good~! Y-Yur gonna rip m-my n’insides~ ♡ Aaahha~”

A low growl rumbled in Sukuna’s chest at your words as he started bouncing you on his cock, “What a good little thing. Taking me so well, the perfect little prey.”

Your breast, smushed so wonderfully against his chest, rubbed against his warm skin with each thrust, and he could feel how those cute perky nipples had gotten hard against him, “even though I’ve had my fun so many times now, you still react so nicely, still so tight- perfect for breaking still” his slick tongue licks against your cheek, lapping at the sweat that drenched your lovely flushed skin, “it almost feels like my cock is being strangled.”

Your arms wrapped around your kings neck, and you held on tight, trying your best to match his pace and movements, your insides stretched and stuffed, the head of his cock hitting the entrance of your womb with each bounce, “s’too rough. M-my insides ngh~ a-are being bullied~ ♡ I- I feel like I'm gonna diee~ aahh~! ♡♡ Y-you're g-gonna break m-me for reeeeal~♡” You could feel his cum from the previous rounds sloshing around in your gut, the excess bubbling out with each thrust.

The man- the curse knew how to make you break, knew how to make those pretty eyes of yours glaze over and roll into the back of your skull until delicious tears dripped down your cheeks. Knew how to make those soft little noises come from your lips as you were fucked dumb.

“I would never allow that, lamb. What fun would I have if you were dead before i had my fill fully?” His hand loosened around your leg and slid up your body, the tip of his fingers brushing against your skin, his eyes narrowing, “Besides, if you were to die, who would let me have my fill? And then, who would make such delicious noises just for me?”

You were unable to respond, his thrusts too much for your poor mind… Unable to feel the way his arms were now securely wrapped around you, keeping you close. How All four of his arms curled protectively against your back, or the soft way his eyes gazed at you…

You were unable to see just how gentle and caring his expression was as he fucked you. How the way his mouth parted, how his teeth that had previously torn through your flesh and left behind bloody, purple marks, now glistened with saliva as he whispered, cooed and moaned, sweet words just for you, his little lamb… Yes, you were without a doubt his, the one who came to him and gave him your life and body.

His sweet, lovely, little lamb.

#true form sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #x reader #ryoumen sukuna #Sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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endereies · 2 days ago

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NAIL POLISH - MS

No Nut November - Day 13

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You come home to see your daughter painting Matt's nails

After returning from running errands all morning, what you came back too wasn’t what you had pictured. There Matt sat with his hands splayed across a white desk that was far to small for his knees to be under while a blue brush dabs across his fingers, missing his nail most the time. Your daughter sat opposite him, her frame fitting perfectly as she leant on her elbow to paint Matt’s fingers hands. Several bottles of nail Polish were left slightly open as she kept flicking through each bottle over and over. Thankfully, due to their cute conversations, they hadn’t heard you walk in. Therefore you took this opportunity to admire the pair while you leant on the doorframe.

“Daddyyyy we got pink now.” Mila’s cute little sentences came out almost as a demand and you knew Matt had no say from the get go.

“Hmm... which one, we have the baby pink or the hot pink?” You could see Matt’s fingers twitch as he wanted to pick the colours up and surveillance them himself. He always wanted to be interactive with you and your daughter but this time he had to force himself to remain still.

She wiggled her fingers as her brain switched between them a few times before handling the baby pink as best she could. “This one!” The whole of her hand wrapped around the Polish, gripping it hard between her fingers to release the brush. After a few attempts and a giggle from Matt, it came undone and was placed back on the desk.

“Go on then sweetheart” Matt coaxed Mila gently as she thought about where the design was going to hold pink. Before the colour dripped off the brush, she hit it over his ring finger and then some.

“These look stunning Mila...” He stared at them with some admiration, even for a six year old kid, she did a decent job at colouring within the lines although she flooded his cuticle on almost every finger.

You just kept admiring the pair as they collectively bonded. You had to hold back a giggle when you kept seeing Matt’s gaze fall to the desk. It was covered in drops of nail polish. Both of you knew that it could be cleaned with the remover that wasn’t far from his hands and that he wanted to just embrace in the moment. He just couldn’t hold back his gritted teeth each time it happened.

“All done!” Mila sat there ever so proud by her hard work and beautiful creation that was now presented on Matt’s hands.

“Yeah? You did amazing as always kiddo, how about while you play I’ll give it a strong protector and let it dry. We don’t want this hard work to go to waste now do we?” Mila shook her head and got up to give her dad a hug on his side before running off to her playroom. Once her footsteps disappeared, you made an appearance.

“Having fun there?” He almost jumped out of his skin, thankfully he wasn’t holding the top coat just yet.

“Jeez baby. You scared me...” A moment of silence passed as he looked down to his hands. “How was I going to say no to that adorable face, besides she chose better colours this time.”

You giggled as you watched Matt stretch his legs after what must have been half an hour. “Just doing a top coat and then rubbing the excess off”

“You know you’re going to be having those for a while if you do that. And I’m videos too?” He scoffed and looked at you through his lashes.

“Yeah? I want that. Why go out and pay a hefty buck when I have my personal artist here at home.” You couldn’t hold back the pure smile at his behaviour.

“She’ll love you forever if you do that.”

“I hope she will...”

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 days ago

Note

Hey babe, i love every Nathan fic that you wrote, and if you’re open to request and feeling fluffy would you do the honor to tell us what happen after Need You? I just want to snuggle up with Nathan so badddfdd, Thank You🥰

Awww <3 <3 <3 Of course!

Thank You

Nathan Bateman x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Nathan is tired.

Warnings: Fluff, cuddles, Nathan being playfully grumpy, teasing, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 630

“Hurry the fuck up.” Nathan says from the doorway. He stares at you a little more intensely than he normally would because his glasses are already off and on the bedside table.

You snort and nearly choke to death swallowing toothpaste. You manage to spit it out into the sink. “I’m brushing my teeth?”

“You’re taking hours.”

“It’s been two minutes.”

“Far too long,” he uncrosses his arms, “You’ll damage your gums, come on.” He moves towards you and you yelp and giggle, brandishing your toothbrush like a weapon.

He pauses and smiles.

“Let me wash my mouth, then I’ll come to bed. I’m not having you drag me again.”

“Why?” He grins, pretending to start to move closer. “You liked it last time.”

“I did n-” You stop yourself, you’re not even going to try to argue with him when he’s in this kind of mood. No matter what you say he’ll throw something else back, playfully of course. And over the top. And incorrect. It wasn’t worth the energy.

So you poke your tongue out at him quickly before you turn and rinse your mouth with water.

His hands around your waist make you laugh. “Nathan.”

“What?” He leans his chest onto your back like a baby koala. “You're comfy.”

“Oh my god.” You mutter, but there’s humour in your voice. “You big baby,” you tease as you stand.

“Yes.” He pauses, meeting your eyes in the bathroom mirror. “Don’t make me do the baby voice again.”

“Okay! You win.” You grin, turning to hug him and he kisses your cheek.

“Bedtime.” He whispers and you just about manage to jump out of his grasp before he tries to pull you to bed. “Hey.”

“I’m going to bed!” You laugh as you dance out of the room and get under the covers.

He smiles, turning off the bedside lamp and quickly joining you. He pulls off his t-shirt as you both get comfortable. He quickly urges you onto your side, so he can hug you, being the big spoon.

The second your head hits the pillow he’s tugging at your top. “Take this off.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why do you want it off?”

“Want to feel your skin.” He grumbles, “Instead all I can feel is this.” He pulls at your top again, snapping it back a little.

“Ow.”

“Sorry, also that didn’t hurt.”

“How do you know it didn’t hurt?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that hard.”

“You don’t know what it felt like to me.” You give him a look over your shoulder and he kisses your cheek.

“I can tell you real ‘ow’, from that fake ‘ooowww’ any day of the week.”

You poke your tongue out at him again.

“Very mature.” He grins, “If you don’t stop doing that I’m gonna give you something to put in your mouth.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“I am.” He pushes his hands up under the bottom of your shirt. “A goodnight blowjob, that sounds great.”

You shake your head and laugh, but help him to take your top off so that he can snuggle you to your back. “You really want a blowjob?”

“Always, but I don’t think I’d get it up for a billion dollars at the moment,” he yawns, curling up closer to you. “You can try though.” You know his eyes are already shut and he’s just playing, but you still make a show of pretending to try to turn over and paw at his waistband.

“Nooo,” he mutters softly, rubbing his face and beard into your back. “Sleepy time.” He kisses your skin and breathes deeply, finally able to relax.

You chuckle and settle back down to go to sleep.

“Thank you.” You hear him mumble just before he dozes off. “For coming to bed.”

Thank you for reading!

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yuanist · 2 days ago

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kuroo, you think, has been out here for quite a while now.

when you left to go meet with your study group—sometime between six-thirty and seven—the snow was just beginning to pile up. it hadn't started sticking to the roads yet, but you could see the vapor slip from the few leaves left on the trees; a symptom of early winter, you suppose.

now, though, there must be four or five inches out here. the old oak tree that hangs over your building is starting to sag, and the moon seems heavier than it did before, hanging lowly along the glow of street light.

kuroo is sitting on the steps up to your apartment, looking down at his phone. he has more than a few flakes in his hair, and if it wasn't for the ridge in the snow where he'd pushed it aside to sit, you'd think he'd been out here the whole time.

"cold?" you ask, shuffling towards him. you can hear the crunch of your feet under you.

"me? never."

he looks up at you then and, you'll admit, you like seeing him like this. lately, he's been against the whole 'text me before you come over' thing, and you know it's mostly because you don't reply, but, in part, that's so you can see him here.

his hands are half-tucked under the sleeves of his coat, and there's a stretch of pink from the tops of his cheeks to the tip of his nose. his lips are chapped (you can only assume from being out here so often) and there's a little smile tugging at the sides of his mouth, his tongue poking out from behind his teeth.

"oh, you want me to leave you out here then? give you a little more time?" you're smug—or, at least you're trying to be, anyway. the more time you spend with kuroo, the worse you are at pretending you don't like him. recently, you've been failing at that more than you'd care to admit.

"hey, i didn't say that." he sinks his teeth into his lower lip. "plus, what's the point of coming all the way over here if i can't see my favorite girl?"

you shake your head at him, aiming your chin towards the ground. in a strange way, you feel like you're suffocating.

"you mean the cat?" you ask.

and he chuckles, "sure."

a beat of silence hangs in the air for a second, before you plod your way up the steps, pulling your keys out of your pocket. you can hear kuroo rise behind you, attempting to brush some of the moisture out of his sleeves.

"y'know," you say, pushing the key into the door. "if you like coming over when i'm not home so much, i could tell the neighbor to let you in."

his hood rustles; he's shaking his head.

"where's the fun in that? kinda ruins my whole 'mysterious stranger' act."

"also kinda ruins the 'guy stalking the apartment complex' act." you swing the door open and make your way up the stairs. "i'm sure everyone is so enthused by the guy sitting on the stairs every friday."

a laugh, "oh i'm sure. if they report me for loitering promise you'll come bail me out?"

"depends on how much i like you that day." you can feel the heat of your apartment as you approach the end of the hall.

"really," he says. "if they took me in right now?"

"i would think about it." you pause. "maybe."

"wow." you can hear the rasp in his voice as he drags out the 'o.' "tough crowd."

your apartment smells like pine and vanilla—the workings of two little wax melters on opposite sides of the rooms. you turned them off before you left (you double and triple-checked), but the scent lingers, itching at your nose as you cross through the door.

kuroo follows close behind, scaping his shoes off on the mat before slipping them onto the little shoe rack in the corner. his jacket squeaks as he shrugs it off—a sound so distinctly made from the shifting of wet nylon that you barely have to turn around to identify it.

every time he follows you up here, you find yourself glancing around your apartment—looking for something that could possibly be out of place. something incriminating: three-day-old dishes that you know you already washed; your vibrator, forgotten on the nightstand, even though you remember putting it back in its designated drawer.

for some reason, you have a tendency to think that the things around your home that make you distinctly human are also the things that would make you distinctly unappealing. you're aware of how silly the thought is, but there you are, quickly looking over at your nightstand as you stick your coat back in the closet.

"so," you hum, rubbing a bit of the warmth back into your hands. "to what do i owe the pleasure tonight? you here to eat all of my leftovers again?"

"depends," he says. "you have leftovers to be eaten?"

"not this time." you make your way to the couch, and he pouts, following behind you. "but if i did, they'd be all yours."

"aw, you mean it?" you eye him. "i'm honored."

as much as you hate to admit it, this has sort of become habit. you come home a little later than expected and you find kuroo sitting on your front stoop. you're not exactly sure how any of it started—or, really, how the two of you became friends in the first place—but you ran in the same circles for a while and, eventually, you ended up here.

"well," he begins, slinging his arm over the back of the couch. "study group?"

"boring." you nudge your way beneath his shoulder. "practice?"

"thrilling, obviously. greatest two hours of my life, even. i think you could go as far as to—" you eye him again. "same thing as yesterday."

you chuckle, swatting a hand into his chest.

there's silence for a moment, something warm pulling through the air of the room. quiet breaths spill from kuroo's lips, and you resign yourself to listening to each one—in, and out.

he still smells cold; like the heavy, wet snow you have to shovel off of the porch the morning after a blizzard. for every breath, it lessens, bleeding into the heat of the room, but you let the scent linger at the base of your nose.

you're not sure how much time you've spent taking in pieces of kuroo, but you know it's more than you ever plan to tell. you know his hands take longer to warm up than the rest of him—he chalks it up to bad circulation most of the time, you know that too; he rarely spends a night at home because he doesn't like sitting in silence; he twitches sometimes, when he's nervous, a little flick of his hands; his favorite color is red but sometimes he's drawn to deep blues because he likes the sky better when it's absent of stars—he says there's something enchanting about the abyss.

he's too dense to know you're in love with him but too smart to think you're not. sometimes you catch him looking at you after you say something in a tone a little too far beyond friendly and you swear that he knows what you mean. sometimes, you think he's going to break the silence, and, sometimes, you think he never will.

tonight, he swings his head back, eyes lightly shut, slowly sinking into the back of the couch. you can hear the sputter of your vents and the sound of the wind against the windows—snow still trying to fight its way through the glass.

you're going to ask him to stay the night tonight—you already know it. you're going to wake up to him on the couch tomorrow, with his hair messed up, and his eyes half-lidded, and that stupid look on his face that makes you want to slip your tongue into his mouth.

you're going to think about that time you slept together last year—once, after a halloween party—and you're going to think about the way the inside of his mouth tasted; you're going to sink your teeth into your lips so hard that you're going to bleed.

you're going to consider telling him that you love him, that you always have and you think you always will, and then you're going to ask him if he wants coffee instead—hoping the smell of the pot is enough to make your head feel less fuzzy.

you're going to wait, and hope he says something, even though you'll know he never does. and then, next friday, when you come home to him sitting on your front steps, you're going to do it all again.

reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

#hq x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x you #haikyuu #hq!!#aw this is so cute i wrote this one last november and look at us now #early birthday present for my little weirdo methinks

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silaslich · 2 days ago

Note

May I make a request for a sequel to "In A Grave so we feel safe"? Something about it scratches an itch in my brain just right. Idk why, I think I just like it when you make 'im mean. 🫣🫣

Our skin starts to rot

Simon “Ghost” Riley x afab!reader

Summary - following from this. Simon hangs around despite the way he treats you like he can’t stand you. The feeling is mutual- to a point.

Wc - 3.8k

Cw - 18+, MDNI, GHOST IS NOT NICE, reader also is not nice, vomiting/purging, referenced/implied drug+alcohol abuse, coercive behaviour, mention of past trauma, smut, fingering, oral (r!receiving), kinda better dynamic toward the end but not really

Your fingernails scrape harshly over the roof of your mouth, and when you look into the bowl of the toilet- you see red.

You gather what’s left of the bile and blood in your mouth with your tongue and spit. Wanting rid of it. Needing to be rid of every last bit of it. All the shame and the guilt and the anxiety, it’s all churned up in your stomach, bought back up with whatever you’d managed to eat last night. Tears sting your eyes from the force and effort of purging, your spine bowed as you grip the white porcelain. Everything hurts. Your body aches. There’s a headache that is pounding like a drum behind your eyes.

The weight of his stare falls over you and so does the shame. You hear him sneer.

“You’re not pregnant are you?” He doesn’t sound as concerned as he should be considering the subject of his question.

There’s a broken laugh that’s hiccuped from your lungs as you wipe your nose with the back of your hand.

“Would it matter to you if I was?” There isn’t anything he can say to make this okay, you’d be happier if he didn’t answer at all. It doesn’t even take him a second to think.

“No” it’s clipped. There’s no emotion there.

You nod to yourself but you don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. There never is. Holding a conversation with him is futile. It’s a waste of fucking breath.

He moves away, you can tell by the sound of his feet scuffing across the floor. Finally- you’re left alone. Allowed out of his sight. Not because he’s concerned, or because he cares. It’s because he wants the control. He knows that you like your own space. He knows that you don’t appreciate it when he lurks over you like a shadow. That’s exactly why he does it. It’s a tactic, like everything else he does, it’s calculated. He smarter than he looks- you’ll give him that.

He’s smart enough to know that, no, you aren’t pregnant. And there’s a very low chance of you being able to fall pregnant. You’ve had an IUD placed for as long as you’ve known him. He’s questioned you enough times about it before. Pinching the device under your skin, smirking when you wince at the pain. He’s asking to embarrass you, begging you to ask the question of what would happen between the two of you if you were in-fact pregnant with his child. He wants you to know that he wouldn’t change. That it wouldn’t make him step up or start to think about his actions.

He’s exhausting to be around, frankly, it’s a living nightmare. You thought you’d miss him. After Price had sent you packing there was a tiny part of you that really thought that you’d miss having Simon near. He’s different here than he used to be back on base or out of country. Maybe that’s because he had the others there, perhaps he didn’t want to let his true colours show for all to see. He clearly thinks very little of you, that and your opinion of him. He couldn’t care less about how you see him, how you perceive him. That does sting, just a little bit.

The water cools your skin as you wash your face, scrubbing the sleep from your eyes and brushing your teeth until your gums feel sore. This is the routine now. When he’s here at least, walking on eggshells in your own home, pretending that he doesn’t bother you as much as he does. You’re lying to yourself, and doesn’t he know it.

You emerge from your bathroom and tread back to your room to get ready for work. In the few months since he’d come crashing back into your life you’d managed to get somewhat of a hold on it again. It’s rubbish money and the hours are even worse but it helps in its own ways. You’re back to some sort of normalcy, outside of Simon and his whole existence within your life. It’s good, you hate to admit, your colleagues are nice enough and the job itself isn’t hard at all. It’s stable. It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Stacking tins and organising pasta on shelves hadn’t been a career aspiration of yours- but you’re alive.

The need for relief is better managed, if you can say that. It’s not always pretty. Some nights are better than others. Your drinking is controllable and the painkillers no longer have a death-like grip on your mind and needs. Sometimes it’s hard to stay afloat, to resist the urge to drink yourself to the point you can’t stand upright or crush tablets between your teeth and rub them into your gums with your tongue. It’s a slippery slope. You can only climb so high before a strong enough wind blows you back down, but growth is growth in your eyes. There’s a noticeable pattern too, it’s always worse when he’s around. He hardly helps the issue. He raids your cupboards and empties your work bag onto the floor every night to make sure you don’t have anything he deems as contraband. As if you’re a child.

The ironic thing is, that he wouldn’t care if it killed you, not really. Not deep down. It might inconvenience him, sure, but it wouldn’t affect him in his daily life. He’d move on to the next unfortunate soul. Hell, you’re probably not the only one he’s seeing, he’s probably already got someone else on the back burner for when you do eventually fuck your liver to the point of no return. It wouldn’t surprise you at all. Not from him.

You get ready and dress for work and head to the hallway that leads to the front door to grab your bag, you’ll sort lunch out at work, because you can hear him in the kitchen. It’s as your key slides into the lock that you hear him still in whatever he’s doing, you bite your tongue.

“I’m off to work” your voice sounds so foreign in your own ears.

There’s a few seconds of drawn out silence and you take that as your cue to leave. Then his voice cuts in again-

“Come ‘ere” it’s rough from his throat. Not yet warmed up since he’d awoken.

You grip the door handle, you could walk out so easily, pretend you haven’t heard him, but it’s hardly worth the aggravation. You leave your key abandoned in the lock and turn to make your way through the living room and toward the kitchen. It’s there that you find him leaning his hip against the counter, a mug of coffee steaming away in his hand, he’s looking right at you as you enter the space.

“Everything okay?” You ask, a brow raised. You’ll be late if he isn’t quick with whatever he wants. He raises a brow back at you.

“I said come ‘ere” he tilts his chin, eyeing up the space directly in front of him.

You blink long and hard to hide the way your eyes want to roll in your skull. You’ll definitely be late at this rate. You do as he wants, nevertheless, stepping right up to him and stopping when you feel the steam from his coffee under your nose. Practically black, as he always has it, barely a drop of milk and no sugar. He’s looking at you in that way that always manages to make you feel so small. Not physically, because that’s already a given. But small in the way that he sees you as inferior to him in every single way. You likely are, but he doesn’t have to make it so obvious to you.

“What is it?” Your temper shortens, just slightly.

His eyes narrow, he notices the shift. His free hand lifts to the side of your face, running a rough thumb over the apple of your cheek, it’s a tender gesture. On the surface level.

“Come and see Price” his voice has softened, just that little bit, the way it does when he wants you to do something he knows you won’t want to.

He wants you to believe he’s on your side. It’s immediate the way you shake your head, he hadn’t even finished speaking.

“Simon- we’ve already talked about this” your patience is thinned to almost nothing. He could have said something earlier, long before you’re walking out the door to catch the next bus.

“Yeah, and you’re not seeing it from my perspective” he eyes you from over his nose, again, making you feel small. There’s a sour taste at the back of your throat.

“When do you ever try to see things from my perspective?” You raise your chin, if he wants an argument over this, you worry he’ll get what he’s after.

He brings his mug to his lips, staring at you from over the lip of it.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever stooped low enough to see things from your point of view, sweetheart” you can’t see his lips but you’re convinced you’d see a smirk there if you could. Your fists clench at your sides.

“I find that very hard to believe” you know little of Simon’s past, but you know enough to know that he is indeed lying. It’s another tactic, another way to get under your skin and piss you off. For his own pure enjoyment.

“Yeah? Try me” he lowers his mug and places it on the counter. His full attention on you. He folds his arms over his bare chest, his tattoos right in your line of sight.

There’s only so low that you’re willing to go, but whatever you say- you know that Simon will have something worse to say about you. That’s just a given with him.

“No no you’re right” you wave him off, stepping out of his space and turning to face the windows across the living room.

A beat of silence.

“Tommy was the druggie, right? Not you”

It’s audible, the way his jaw clicks. You don’t move.

“That’s right” his voice is flat, but you know him well enough to know that he’s annoyed, pissed beyond belief. Maybe not at what you’ve said, but that you’ve dared to say anything at all.

“Means I know a lost cause when I see one” you hear his body shift, the way his right shoulder clicks. Adjusting his stance.

You nod, silently. That’s his perception of you. It hardly rings true, a few months ago? Maybe. Now? You give yourself enough credit to know that you’re doing the right thing. Keeping this job. Not crawling back to Price. It settles the nagging feeling in your chest. You’re trying, at least. Making an effort.

“Why are you still here?” Still- you don’t turn to face him.

You keep your eyes glued to the way the world ticks by outside the window, there’s satisfaction in knowing he can’t see just how unbothered you are at his words. Before, you would have given him what he wanted and cried. Would have screamed and shouted in his face. An accusing finger pressed into his chest. You’d spat at him, once. Then he’d grab you and pull you close, pressing your snotty tear-stained face into the flesh of his chest and make a spectacle of soothing you. Telling you how he forgives you, how he knows it’s the booze and drugs talking- not you. He’d say that you’ll feel better in the morning and tug you into bed or towards the nearest waist-level surface and fuck you raw and slow and everlasting until you’re a puddle of nothing. Dumb and boneless- everything he already believes you to be.

He makes a noise. One that if it were translated into English, it would sound like ‘what the fuck are you on about?’

“I asked you why you’re here”

“Yeah, I heard you” his tone stiffens, it’s clear he doesn’t have an answer for you, therefore- he won’t answer.

There’s a few moments where the silence tells. There’s the sound of a car horn blaring outside and the birds that live in the gutter above your window chirp and sing, it’s the way life just keeps humming away- despite everything. Despite it all.

Simon moves and you stay stood still. You turn your head, watching out the corner of your eye as he walks toward you, he doesn’t look you in the eye. Instead looking out of the window as you had been. You follow his line of sight, watching the same cyclist ride past as he does.

“You treat me like shit y’know” you don’t know why you’ve said it. The thought had just been there, at the front of your mind and the tip of your tongue.

He turns his head, just slightly, to look at you. You feel his eyes- they burn.

“I treat everyone like shit” he returns his gaze to the glass, hands slid into the pockets of his trackie bottoms.

You laugh. It breezes past your lips so easily, so freely. You turn your gaze to him, noticing the way his jaw hardens when you do.

“No you don’t” you don’t take your eyes away from his face. You can’t.

For a moment you remember who he is- what he is. And in that moment you find yourself feeling sorry for him. Maybe he deserves more credit, because he could treat you a lot worse, realistically. It’s the one thing you tell yourself when he’s around, that he could be so much worse. It’s not a defence, no, it’s a lifeline. He’s suffered as you have and maybe that’s why you let him treat you the way he does, because that’s what you think you’re worth. Rough hands and sharp words and glaring eyes. It rolls off your back better these days, it’s easier to shrug off.

Simon hums, he’s caught out and he knows it.

“No- no I don’t” he rolls his shoulders until the right one cracks- again.

You bite the tip of your tongue. There’s so much you need to say to him and it’s never the right time or circumstance. You walk on eggshells around him because you can’t deal with the consequences of his temper and his irrationality. For someone who commands a platoon and leads so naturally, he’s the most pig-headed man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t want to hear your opinion or listen to you explain your point, even if he knows you’re right and he’s wrong.

“Why are you really here?” You’re still looking at him and your chest squeezes when he casts his eyes to the side, barely eyeing you. You’ve always loved his eyes.

They soften, if only slightly, it shows he’s considering the question. That he might not shrug it off like he does everything else.

“I don’t know” Simon’s voice carries that lilt to it, the one that reminds you of the man you’d first welcomed into your home- into your bed. Soft voice and attentive hands. Like he could actually stand being near you.

For a few seconds, it’s as if the world outside stops. The birds aren’t chirping and the traffic has cleared. Even the breeze stills, there’s nothing but the sounds of the both of you breathing. Out of sync. Always.

There’s a weight that dislodges from your chest. You didn’t realise you’d been carrying it for so long. Ultimately burdened by it. You haven’t got any answers, none that would clear away the ache in your heart when he looks at you in that knowing way. But somehow, there’s a satisfaction to knowing that he’s as lost as you are, the same way that you don’t understand why you let him stay- he doesn’t know why he stays either.

He stiffens slightly when he feels you at his side. Head and left shoulder pressed into his ribs and arm respectively. He quickly slackens his muscles, leaning into you slightly.

“We’re as bad as each other” the words are a little incoherent, your cheek smushed against his arm.

You’re not bothered if he hears it or not at this point. It wouldn’t matter. You only know he’s heard you by the way he sighs, craning his neck to lean the side of his head against the top of yours.

“I’m afraid I’m worse” he says it matter-of-factly. It’s the truth, to him.

“Much worse” his voice dies away, slightly. Not as though he’s embarrassed by the words, but perhaps because he knows you’re acutely aware.

You’re fully aware that he’s worse than you, in every sense of the fucking word. You’ve been sugar coating things, telling him what he wants to hear instead of what he needs to hear. He can appreciate that to a point. But he doesn’t need it. He doesn’t need the softness. That sentiment had been beaten out of him long ago, long before the Army sank its claws into him too. He knows what’s right and what’s wrong, it’s as if he doesn’t have the ability to physically stop himself from doing and saying things he doesn’t mean. In a military setting he can be loud and brash and rude; it’s his job. He spends his days as someone else’s superior, telling them when they can and can’t piss, telling them where and when they will die- essentially.

It’s hard for him to kick that habit when he’s out of that setting. When lives aren’t on the line. Yet, you’re right; he doesn’t treat Price or Gaz or Johnny that way. He can’t explain why, and that’s worse than if he could. He’s just a bad person, that’s what it ultimately boils down to at the end of the day.

It’s all he can think of as he takes you by the hand, watching your wide eyes watch him; pushing you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the sofa. Somehow, it’s different, for reasons he can’t think of. Simon Riley has never been a religious man-

Is this what repenting feels like?

He handles you differently, in his own way. The way he thinks he knows how. When he removes your clothes he’s no longer chasing something, that deep-dark spot in his vision that blurs his rationality is gone.

It’s too late for redemption- to prove that he can be something he’s not; because he can’t. He’d be lying and you know that, so you won’t ask that of him, you wouldn’t expect it either.

He holds your gaze as he presses his lips to the mound of your pussy. He watches how your chest heaves, sucking in air through your mouth, like a deer in headlights. This is so foreign from him, the tenderness, the gentleness of his hands and his mouth. No gnashing teeth or bruising fingers. There’s only featherlight touches- to begin with.

Simon warms you up the way he should. Sliding his tongue through the lips of your pussy, gathering the wetness he finds already there- he hasn’t even started with you yet, not really. There’s a slight smile that creeps up the side of his mouth at that. You tell him how much you hate him, but he has this effect on you; that in itself calls your bluff.

He listens to the way your breath stutters, feeling the way your hips cant into the wait of his mouth when he slows down or stops completely. Your juices are smeared across his lips and down his chin, he rubs his face into your pussy, slathering himself in your wetness. He wants to smell you on his skin tomorrow when he leaves, because he will leave, if you really want him to.

“Oh- oh fuck” he plucks these sounds out of you so easily.

He curls two thick fingers into the tightness of your cunt, reeling at how easy your pussy sucks him in. So needy. So eager for anything he’ll give. He watches his digits disappear, barely wanting to take his eyes off of yours but needing to visualise the feeling of your tight hole sucking him in, clamping like a vice around his fingers as he fucks them deeper inside of you.

“There?” He asks, curling his fingers, watching you nod your head wildly.

“So wet f’me” his voice drags, drunk on your pussy.

It’s like electricity hits his bones when he presses his mouth to you again, lapping at your clit while he continues to pump his fingers into you. Matching rhythm. Swirling his tongue, beckoning you with the wet muscle in his mouth, luring you to the edge. When you curl your fingers into the length of hair at the top of his head, that’s when he’s really spurred on. Letting you rub your pussy all over his face, burying his nose in the mound of flesh there, nipping teeth when you get too bold for his liking- because he’s still in charge here.

“Soo desperate” he tries to be cruel with his tone but it goes right over your head.

He feels the way your walls clamp around his fingers. The way your breathing grows ragged, sloppy thrusts of your hips against his mouth and tongue, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge as Simon fights to pull you there.

“Oh- a-a fuck Si” you’re a stuttering mess. “M’close-”

You’re practically gushing when you cum. He laps at you like he hasn’t before, listening to cries of his own name that bounce off the walls. The sounds of your pussy oozing against his mouth make his cock leak in his boxers. Hard and untouched. He stutters his hips, seeking any kind of friction.

There isn’t any; but watching and feeling you squirm under him like this is a new found thing. He’s had you on your back more times than he can think to count. Yet, none have felt like this- not even in the early days when things were right between the two of you.

Maybe it’s because things have indeed shifted, that maybe you’ve solidified your belief that you deserve better - that this might be it for him.

Even when you almost pull his hair from the roots, riding his nose as he rides you through your orgasm. Your spine arching off the sofa cushion, needing more despite the fact that he’s given you everything.

“Oh -Simon” it’s hissed through your teeth. He’s doing too much now, clamping his fingers into your thighs, not wanting to let go.

It’s the greediness in him. He wants too much of everything, he has no control. There isn’t that little voice in his head that tells him he’s had enough, that he’s done enough. Not that he would listen to it.

He finally lets up, leaning back on his heels, still knelt between your thighs. Eyes watching yours, you’re staring up at the ceiling. Eyes hooded, lips agape, breath ragged- he can’t help but think you look beautiful.

So why has he never said it before?

He leans his cheek against your thigh, eyes still watching your face, then you feel them- feel his gaze. Your eyes snap to his and for a moment, you look remorseful. Then you open your mouth to speak-

“We’re still not friends”

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thatdesigirl17 · 2 days ago

Text

only mine

toxic!theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: theo being toxic, jealous and possessive, name calling/degradation, violence/fighting, swearing/cursing

requests are open! let me know if you want a smutty part 2!

Theodore Nott was beyond angered. Rage coursed in his blood and through his veins while he searched for the reason for his fury: Adrian Pucey.

Earlier that day Mattheo, his best friend, had told Theo that Adrian fancied his girlfriend, Y/N. Mattheo had overheard Adrian talking to his friends about Y/N, her face, her body, how he would like to have her to himself, how he’d fuck her and how perfect would it feel, how he’d grab her long hair and fist them and make her do all the things he wanted to do with her. Adrian almost sounded certain that he could make her forget all about Theodore.

Theo took long strides along the corridors of the castle, his dead eyes turning dark, his jaw clenched, his teeth gritted. Junior students were scurrying out of his way, seeing his fury evident on his sharp features. Just as he stepped outside the castle, the sight made his blood boil even further, if that was possible. He halted in his tracks, clenching his jaw even further.

Y/N was sitting on a bench with Adrian next to her side, both of them laughing. Adrian scooted closer to her, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear and caressing her locks that flowed freely down her back. Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but Theo couldn’t notice that not when he was blinded by his anger. He stormed towards the bench in the courtyard and just as Y/N was about to tell Adrian that she felt uncomfortable and he should stop, Theo fisted the collar of his shirt pulling him away and punched him right in the face, making the boy fall to the ground.

Y/N jumped to her feet, gasping and placing her hand on her mouth, surprised by the sudden actions of her boyfriend. Her eyes widened as the scene before her unfolded where Theo did not stop, he kept punching him to the point Adrian’s face was bloodied. There was blood splattered on the grass and on Theo’s knuckles. Theo’s eyes were still dark, full of anger and rage.

He crouched down and grabbed his jaw forcefully. ‘Ever talk to my girl or about her and you will end up in a state way worse than this.’, he spat, his face laced with a scowl as he let go of his jaw roughly before getting back up and kicking the limp body again in the stomach.

Theo then turned to Y/N, stepping closer to her, and invading her personal space. He towered above her, his face inches away from hers. ’What the hell were you thinking? Letting him touch you like that?’, he said narrowing his eyes, his voice laced with anger. ‘I- I was about to tell him to stop-‘, she tried to explain before Theo cut her off. ‘You’re such a fucking slut, going to anyone who gives you even an ounce of affection and letting them do whatever they want to you.’, he said, towering above her further making her eyes well up with tears. ‘Don’t cry now cara mia, wouldn’t wanna make a scene now, right?’, he said in a sickeningly sweet voice, his hands moving to cup her face, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones, his touch almost tender, almost gentle. But his eyes betray his true feelings, the dark, stormy depths filled with a rage that threatens to consume him.

His hands moved to her shoulder, his fingers gripping the clothed flesh of her shoulders hard and rough enough to leave marks as he slowly turned her around making her feel every moment of his touch.

Once her back was against his chest, he fisted her hair, yanking her head back, making her whimper and exposing her neck. He pressed a kiss to her neck, sucking and biting hard, marking her as his. ‘Amore mio, I hate seeing you with someone else, it hurts me.’, he said against her skin. ‘Do you like seeing me getting hurt, bella?’, he asked innocently. On not hearing an answer, he bit down on her neck again, harder, whispering in a stern voice, ‘Answer me.’ ‘No.’, she whimpered, her voice quivering. ‘Good girl.’, he said, soothing her skin with his tongue and pressing gentle kisses to the fresh bruise on her skin.

Theo then pulled away, gently caressing her hair as he fisted them and slowly twisted them into a bun. He pulled the hair tie off his wrist and tied them up, his hand moving down to hold her by the back of her neck, while the other gripped her waist tightly. He leaned in, whispering in her ear, nibbling at her earlobe, ‘Only I have the right to see you with your pretty hair open and touch them, pull them. You seem to have forgotten that, bella. You’re mine and now I’ll have to remind you who you belong to for the rest of the day.’ He kissed her cheek slowly, resting his head on her shoulder. ‘Come on.’, he whispered before pulling her into the castle and to his dorm.

#theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #toxictheo #fanfic #writing #harry potter #hpimagines #slytherin boys #slytherin #hogwarts #wizardblr #theo nott #theodore nott x you

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lara4eclipze · 1 day ago

Text

“Our Spot?”

— ( ⛽ ) “meet me at our spot ” sent 11:48 pm

— ( 🚏 ) fluff , kissing , established relationship, lovey dovey , car rides , swearing , etc

— ( 🌃 ) this has been collecting dust in my drafts , I think if I remember it correctly this was a request by 🫢 anon

the loudness has calmed down , shops closing down and people going home — it was finally night time those who were out are either going to clubs or just wants to explore the place silently

it became a tradition for you and daniela to call each other every night , her overwhelming schedule always results in her being drained and you were her safe haven

overtime the usual call turned into you two meeting in casual spots like the convenience store , the park or even in her studio — yet it didn't feel right , you always felt like you never truly had the time with daniela , the peace and quiet where you both can only hear the beat of your hearts

your phone rings , assuming it was daniela you answered, it wasn't weird for her to call in the crack of dawn to be honest you were used to it

"hi dani how are you?" you ask , your voice was groggy and a yawn slips past your lips as you talk

"I'm good , can I pick you up by 30? , i wanna show you something" daniela explains , she sounded happy and very tired

"hmh- yeah , ill wait for you" you reply stretching out your arms and blinking to adjust your eyes to the light

"okay get ready!" daniela says before hanging up

standing up you wince at how cold the floor is , making your way to your bathroom you brush your teeth and wash your face , throwing on some random sweater and walking to your door

y/n: I'm outside now :)

danii: okay I'm omw!

you sigh putting your hands in your pockets as you wear your headphones, tonight was particularly cold , the winds were way harsher today

"my lips your lips—apocalypse" you mouth out the lyrics , as you see a familiar m3 pulling up you smile warmly

"hii!!" dani quietly screams running up to you with surprising energy , she hugs you and you reciprocate it hugging her back and greeting her too

"soo what were you gonna show me?" you ask intrigued onto what she was talking about earlier

"ill show you just follow me" daniela replies , holding your hands and leading you to her car , as you both sat down she revs it up and drives , fast enough but not too fast to the point of disturbing your train of thoughts

"how was work?" you ask , you still to this day couldn't believe that she was part of katseye yet she is

"you know , practice , eat , sleep" the blonde replies , her hands steering the wheel , she chuckles after

the next few moments the drive was silent the only sound was your heavy breathing and occasional yawn— the car stops at some bridge it was secluded but had an amazing view of the city

"were here" dani says turning off the engine and walking out of the car , she sat at the hood soon to be joined by you

"it's beautiful" you say out of awe , silent and perfectly cold , you rest your head at her shoulders earning you a hum

"I really enjoy this , I never really get a break — when I'm with you I feel like all my worries are gone" daniela says , her voice softening and sounding sincere

"i really love you" she follows, her hands now on your cheeks as she places a kiss on your lips

the kiss was magical , it wasn't sexual but truly her way of showing her appreciation for you — it was perfect

"I love you too" you reply , now with a spot to go to every time it felt official it was officiall

this her spot , or should you say our spot

#katseye imagines #katseye x reader #🫢 anon #daniela katseye #daniela avanzini #daniela x reader

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jean-meowreau · 1 day ago

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I 📢 WANT 📢 BOTTOM 📢 ANDREW 📢

You're lucky I'm blasted as fuck rn so Andrew will be too but dw pls enjoy BB

"short piece" my ass lol

Bottom Andrew, Top Neil, Oral Sex, Rimming, Fingering, Gross Sappy Feelings, Andrew Minyard loves Neil Josten, Drug Mention(Weed/Marijuana), Some Hair Pulling, Andrew "Hands Free Orgasms Aren't Real" Minyard Orgasming Hands Free, Mating Press

IDK how many words but she's hefty.

Andrew blinks once, then twice, and turns his head. It moves too quickly, too easily, a swivel that's brand new and prefectly lubed up. Speaking of lubed up--

Andrew balks, his jaw dropping as he makes a noise of disdain. How dare Neil use his own words against him? "What the fuck?"

"Neil." His voice is low, theres a slight shake to it. His chest is rising and falling in a pattern, he's sure it's right, breathing isn't normally this difficult--

"Andrew?" Neil asks, his voice soft. Andrew's pulse starts racing faster, goosebumps break out across his arms and he shivers. Neil smiles, something somewhat wicked, as he puts down his book and rolls across their bed. He's facing Andrew now, their bodies less than an inch apart. Andrew can't stop staring at pretty pink lips curved into a smirk, thinking about where else they'd look even better-- "Staring."

"I'm not allowed?" Neil teases. He sees the way Andrew is staring at the hand on Neil's thigh. He reaches across, slowly up towards Andrew's face, before asking, "Yes or no?"

He doesn't even get a chance to ask the latter before Andrew is gasping out, "Yes!" in a voice far too close to a whine for his sober comfort. But that was for sober Andrew. High Andrew closes his eyes and presses his face into Neil's deceptively soft palm, turning to kiss the skin before biting at the meat of it around his thumb.

"I take it you're in the mood?" Neil teases as he brushes the side of his thumb against Andrew's cheek.

Andrew bares his teeth in response before muttering, "Pretty faces deserve it."

The blond nods before he reaches for Neil's waist and pulls him on top. When Neil makes to straddle him, as is the usual play for their evening forays, Andrew stops him. He sits up, meeting Neil for a kiss as he pushes his legs together and then wraps his own around Neil's waist. Baby blues are wide, looking over Andrew's face as he lays back against the pillows and waits. He's happy to do so, lazily eating up the sight of Neil staring down at him. The slope of his shoulders, the barely there bit of healthy fat lining him that shows in the small dip where the waistband of his boxers hug his hips, his toned arms bracketing either side of Andrew's head as he leans forward. The quirk of his brow as he keeps looking over Andrew's face, the feeling of his breath against Andrew's neck, the way his lashes flutter every time he blinks.

"Staring," Neil teases him again.

"Then why do I get in trouble for staring at you?" Neil fires back smoothly, leaning down to kiss Andrew, to stop his retort. He'd seen the way his eyebrows shot up and then furrowed, knew he was going to pay for that cheesy comeback if he didn't do something drastic.

"Tell me exactly what you want."

Andrew knows it, but he decides kissing Neil is more important at the moment, so he lets himself get lost in it. There are small shoots of electricity firing down and settling in his abdomen, fueled by every brush of their lips. Neil breaks the kiss, cupping Andrew's jaw to keep him in place so he can speak.

Andrew didn't bottom often. But he liked bottoming for Neil. He enjoyed letting himself get taken in by the junkie currently looming over him, watching him both expectantly and hungrily. So obviously ready to devour but waiting patiently, because Andrew mattered above all else. He moans quietly at the thought, shifting his hips to rub both of their clothed erections together. "I want to lose my voice."

The words are calculated, he knows Neil knows, but he watches the way he curls his hands into fists, unfurls them, and then reaches to hold Andrew's waist before rocking their hips together, enjoying the quiet moan he's rewarded with. "Are you telling me it's my choice?"

Andrew gives a single, resolute nod. Neil tries and fails to hide a grin as he rocks their hips together once more before he pulls Andrew's boxers down and off, tossing them haphazardly to the floor.

"I want to--" He starts, but Andrew interrupts him.

"Don't ask, just do."

Neil narrows his eyes, bending forward and resting on his elbows against Andrew's chest, looking over his face. "How high are you?"

"High enough," Andrew answers honestly. "I've wanted to try for a while. This helped with the..." He trails off and waves his hand in the air, gesturing to encompass all of the words he either didn't have or didn't want to say and ruin the mood.

"You promise you won't shut down if there's anything you don't like?" Neil asks between brushes of his lips along the length of Andrew's jaw.

It happened once when Andrew was tipsy and Neil asks every time he so much as breathes in Andrew's direction, now. They'd talked about it, how Andrew appreciated how attentive Neil was, but that he also enjoys some levels of spontaneity. He trusts Neil, he knows Neil takes redirection and respects boundaries, even on the things Andrew used to let slip with one night stands and others he let in. Nobody cared for him or his well-being to the extent Neil did.

"I promise," Andrew says quietly, directing Neil into a kiss. He's rewarded for the words with Neil's fingers wrapping around his dick and giving a slow tug from base to tip. He moans into Neil's mouth, letting the redhead lick his way inside as he gives slow, wonderful attention to his cock. Andrew slowly sinks back into the pillows, sighing out quiet moans as Neil kisses his way down his chest. He raises his hips excitedly when Neil nears his waist before letting out an admittedly dejected noise when his mouth bypasses his cock. Kisses are bitten into the meat of his hip, the top and inside of his thigh, before Neil licks over Andrew's balls. He gasps, hips jerking away from the feeling before he immediately settles them back against the mattress.

"Again," he whispers the demand, more of a plea than he wants to admit yet again, but Neil obeys and the discomfort at the idea of asking for something melts against the warm tongue licking over Andrew's perineum before sucking his balls into his mouth. Andrew isn't sure if Neil stopping attention to his dick was good or bad - he was aching for stimulation but Neil knew better; it would probably overwhelm Andrew if he did both in that moment. So he resigns himself to memorising the feel of his balls in Neil's mouth, his tongue shifting between both, rolling and fondling them. He ups the suction and it hurts only barely, slightly too much pleasure, but his balls are released almost as quick as it started. He's about to direct Neil back, but then his tongue is swirling over his perineum before dipping lower. The first swipe over his hole has Andrew stuttering out Neil's name as his thighs twitch, aching to wrap around his head.

Neil never ceases to surprise Andrew, and it's no exception when large hands cup under his thighs and lift them to wrap around his head. Andrew makes a strangled sound, shifting on the bed as he loosely locks his ankles together. When Neil laps at his hole again, this time Andrew curses quietly and squeezes. He hears a muffled moan from Neil as he's somewhat crushed between Andrew's thighs and pulled in closer. His nose pushes up against the underside of Andrew's balls and the noise he makes when Neil finally licks inside of him is one he will deny until his grave. It's a whine, quiet and quickly cut off when he realises that sound is coming from his own mouth. Neil freezes briefly where he is, and Andrew swears he hears a quiet moan before Neil is wrapping his arms around to hold the tops of Andrew's thighs and licking into him once more, with vigor.

Andrew hates that his back arches off the bed, hips grinding down against Neil's tongue, his nose rubbing against his perineum still. He's gasping for air, hands pulling at and fisting the sheets before Neil finds them and guides Andrew to his hair. He takes two handfuls, trembling at the whimper he hears from Neil when he pulls him in closer, barely muffled between his legs. And then he's cursing under his breath as he yanks Neil away, falling back against the pillows as he wills the orgasm sneaking up on him at bay. Neil makes a rather pitiful sound and Andrew shakes his head, still breathing hard. "Don't want to-- Inside, Neil."

Blue eyes blink slowly before he is nodding his understanding. He fucking licks his lips, savouring the remnants of Andrew there as he sits up and reaches for the bedside table for the lube. "Condom?"

"Not this time," Andrew breathes out, his gasps for air finally starting to even out. "That okay?"

"You know I don't care either way," Neil says as he pulls Andrew down the bed, propping his legs up on his thighs before shoving a pillow beneath his hips. "I'm just here for the ride."

"Bullshit."

"You make prettier sounds when we don't use one," Neil says after taking a second to warm some lube up between his fingers. It makes it ever more devastating when he continues -- as he's fucking a finger into Andrew, "You go crazy when I cum inside you."

Andrew bites his tongue so hard he's sure it's bleeding. He wasn't going to reward Neil with anything after those words, as right as they were. But he knows his glare is anything but menacing, his body betraying his pretend anger as his hips shift to meet Neil's finger steadily fucking him open.

"Staring," Neil warns again, with the umpteenth cheeky barely there smile. He stops Andrew's retort for the second time tonight by adding a second finger and stroking over Andrew's prostate with practiced ease. He liked being fingered when he was getting head, sue him. Neil fixated on things that he cares about, and Andrew and Andrew's pleasure are his priority most of the time. He pushes the idea of Exy from his head with considerable effort, determined to stay hard and fully enjoy the experience. But all he was left with was the still unnerving feeling the idea of being a priority to anyone was, let alone Neil. He'd proven himself time and again, but that feeling was still disconcerting--

"Where are you, right now?"

Neil's voice cuts through the beginnings of a spiral and Andrew blinks up at him before grabbing the back of his neck and yanking Neil down into a filthy kiss. It was equal parts claiming as it was desperate, Andrew arching up into Neil while clinging and pulling him in closer. He ignores the not-whimper that Neil coaxes from him as he licks into his mouth once more. Tracing the shape of his teeth before rubbing the tip of his tongue down the length of his hard palate, each ridge felt before he's sitting back and nipping at his bottom lip.

"I--" Andrew starts, shifting beneath Neil before squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing.

"Me, too," Neil says after a second, nudging Andrew's head back so he can kiss and suck at his neck as he adds a third finger. Knowing exactly what Andrew meant and couldn't say in that moment. Declarations of that sort during sex were still something Andrew was recovering from. Neil still meets him where he is.

"Inside," Andrew demands, shifting beneath Neil. His chest felt full to bursting with overwhelming feeings and his ass wasn't anywhere near full enough to make it worthwhile.

Ever the obedient lover, Neil pulls his fingers out and slicks up his cock, shivering at what must be the first touch it's received since they started. The fact he wasn't even undressed, had cupped the waistband of his briefs beneath his balls furthering the worry Andrew already knew was true--

"You're fucking insane," he mutters, head falling back against his arm propped behind. Neil is slowly fucking into him, ever patient and ever attentive.

"Yeah?" Neil, finally, for the first time tonight, sounds out of breath and shaky. "What are you going to do about it?"

Andrew flicks dark eyes up at Neil, and the cheeky bastard fucking winks at him. Andrew scowls, hooking his ankles behind Neil's lower back and pulling against him, forcing him to bottom out. They both moan high and loud in tandem, Neil's hands landing against Andrew's chest as his eyes go wide. He very gently grabs his wrists when he reaches to move Neil's hips. "I'm trying not to-- Hold on. Just a second. You feel so good."

His fingers curve and the bite of his nails in Andrew's flesh has him arching his back and clenching around Neil's dick. They both make a wounded sound, Neil bucking forward before grinding against Andrew's ass as he collapses against his chest.

"You won't get mad if I...?" he asks between gasps for air.

"I'll never let you live it down," Andrew says, but he cards his fingers soothingly through Neil's hair. "So excited to fuck me you barely got it in."

"I can't help it," Neil says through gritted teeth, lifting his head and grabbing Andrew's jaw, holding him steady as Neil rakes his eyes across his face. "You're so..." he groans in frustration, at a loss of words. "Fuck, Andrew!"

"That's what you're supposed to be doing now, yes," he teases ever so gently, his other hand slipping under Neil's sleep shirt to rub against his shoulders.

"I'm-- I'm trying," Neil huffs out, smiling at Andrew's own lazy smile as he watches Neil, enjoys how he's pleasantly stressed about the idea of cumming too soon to even give Andrew what he wants. "You-- the legs? And my hair? While I was eating you out." He says in quick, aborted sentences. "Fuck."

Andrew's barely there smile quickly morphs into something salacious as he takes a handful of Neil's hair. It does so much to Andrew's ego to watch in real time as Neil's pupils dilate and his breathing hitches. He swears he just felt his dick twitch where it was still buried in his ass. "Fuck me, Neil."

One shaky thrust later, Andrew gives Neil's hair the barest of tugs. He watches as the man in his hands and in him stills, pupils blown out. "A-Andrew..."

"If you cum early you can blow me," Andrew offers. "You know I enjoy every orgasm you give me."

Neil makes another strangled noise before tucking his face in the curve of Andrew's neck. His first few thrusts are short and stiff, but after Andrew offers him an encouraging moan, Neil steadies himself. His next thrust in makes Andrew see stars. He doesn't need to say anything, he knows Neil knows by how silent he's gone, how stiff he is beneath him.

"R-Relax," Neil stutters, hips smacking against the backs of Andrew's thighs now as he fucks him fast and deep, just how he likes. His next words, whispered against the sensitive flesh just behind Andrew's ear, have him seeing stars. "You deserve to feel good, Andrew."

His back arches, the pointed thrust Neil aims at his prostate sending sparks at the edge of his vision. "Sh-Shut--" --up!

"Make me," Neil taunts, the words barely audible between their skin slapping and the two of them gasping for air. Andrew narrows his eyes and gives Neil's hair another tug before pulling his head back to expose his throat. Teeth meet tender flesh and Neil is choking out praise around loud moans as Andrew renews the rounded fading marks of his teeth against Neil's shoulder. He didn't want to deal with another lecture from Kevin about hickeys and professionalism.

"Neil."

"W-What?"

"Remember what I said?"

Neil grunts quietly and his rhythm falters briefly as he shifts his weight forward onto his knees. He unravels Andrew's legs from his waist, and before the blond can think to complain his knees are pressed to his chest. He can't breathe, every time Neil bottoms out he swears his guts are so far displaced that his lungs are being pushed into his throat. Both hands are tangled in red locks now, tugging his appreciation as Neil speeds up his thrusts.

Cumming before Andrew had been a show. Neil would never let himself unless Andrew made it known it was exactly what he wanted that evening. Even bottoming, even getting the best head of his life, Neil is fixated on Andrew, he claims it takes serious effort to cum without getting to see the supposedly beautiful pinch in Andrew's brow and the special way he moans Neil's name.

"A-Andrew..."

He waits a few seconds, but Andrew can't find it in himself to respond. He just gives Neil another nod and yanks at his hair, trying desperately to kiss him.

Neil shifts and then, if Andrew thought he'd felt like a pretzel before, the angle Neil bent him back at to have his knees resting against the mattress made Andrew see God in all of her infinite glory. So taken was he, he didn't have much to offer to warn of his orgasm except a choked off cry of Neil's name before cum was splattering up his chest. It hit his system like a freight train, the world fizzling into white around him, some of that possibly his own cum splattering against his own cheek.

He knew Neil was in the same boat, teeth sinking into the meat of Andrew's calf as he let his thrusts slow with his orgasm. Something about getting a piece of Neil fucked inside, pressing and reaching deep enough that it wouldn't ever leave Andrew, made him go mental. The nails he pulled away from Neil's back, where he'd thankfully dropped his hands, were bloody.

"F-Fuck, Neil--"

"No, 's okay," Neil mumbles, cum drunk and high on his orgasm, barely able to open his eyes. "I-- that was good. Andrew, I've never-- so fucking good."

"Bleeding!" Andrew says, his stress evident.

Neil presses his face against his palm. "That's why I came so hard."

"What?"

Neil shakes his head, somewhat confused. "It felt good. And then I thought about if it scarred over some of my old ones..." he trails off, taking a few deep breaths. "And I liked the idea a lot."

Andrew nods, pulling Neil in for a hug. He sneaks a look at his back and lets out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding when he notices the scrapes are surface level, barely enough to cause worry. He looks back at his hands and notices there isn't any blood, and tucks that away for later to try and figure out what caused that.

"Have to talk about it," he offers, and Neil nods, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"It's okay if it needs to be a no. I just wanted to offer reassurance. I enjoyed it."

Andrew nods, grabbing Neil's face and pulling him in for a proper kiss. "Bath?"

"Sure. We've got to get you clean."

"You try to take any of your cum out of me and I will draw and quarter you."

Neil smirks, then winks. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Andrew."

#aftg #all for the game #aftg fandom #aftg trilogy #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil

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lxciferuss · 1 day ago

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The Last Night

Summary: Learning about grief on the roof of the headquarters with a stranger was the last thing Levi expected to be on his yearly bingo card.

Warnings: Soldier!Levi x Fem!Soldier!Reader. Set after ACWNR. Angst. Smoking (don't fuck up your lungs, please), swearing, mentions of death. SFW!

No Regrets hurts me 'til this day, I just wanna hug soldier! Levi so bad. Ididn'tentirelylikethisbutohwell.

The smell of tobacco reached your nostrils everytime you pushed the smoke out past your lips, leaving a warm, tingly feeling dancing in your tongue. The chilling night engulfed your figure with its dark wrap, moonlight highlighting your skin.

Your feet dangled off the edge, heels of your boots lightly kicking against the wall under.

It was a lonely place, really. Barely anyone bothered to check up on the horse's cellar, as it was all full of hay and stinky horse-shit stains. It was the best hiding spot you found on your first year as a scout, and a great option to get away with smoking.

You were lost in tought while looking at the stars above you, recognizing a few constellations one of your roommates had told you about, when the sound of the door flying open made you jump in place, startled.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach for a second, thinking that you had been caught by one of your superiors, or even a soldier who would've definetly snitched on you.

Instead, all you heard was a male scream, followed by constant kicks against the rotten—intended to be used for a fireplace, but ruined by rain—wooden planks laying forgotten on the floor.

He hadn't noticed you staring, full-on focusing on getting his foot impaled. Or so it looked like. He grunted with every hit, teeth gritting with anger.

"You'll break them into dust in no time." You laughed, sarcastic, lit cigarette staying between your index and middle finger. You weren't looking his way when he turned to the sound of your voice, body stiffening more than ever.

His chest moved with every rapid breath he took, struggling to get the air into his lungs. His frown deepened at both the fact you were making fun of him and daring to smoke on the job.

"You're one of the newbies, right?" Your eyes finally locked with his, filled with curiosity. "Erwin brought you here a few days ago, didn't he?" You took another long drag of smoke, enjoying the flavor on your taste buds for a good minute before parting your lips to let it vanish in the air.

He blinked once, twice. Lips curling with uneasiness. He closed one hand into a fist he tightened a few times, deciding on what to do.

"I heard what happened on your first mission. A shame, really." Your words came out muffled by the rolled piece of paper in your mouth, hands busy brushing back the strands of hair hitting your face.

He didn't talk, gulping once you raised an eyebrow at him. He hadn't talked to any other soldier since he first joined, spending every break alone. The only people who he got along with had died miserably in a place they didn't wish to be put in.

It sounded familiar to you.

"You can stay here if that's what you need, just don't throw shit my way. Don't worry about getting caught, nobody ever really comes up here." You shrugged your shoulders, turning back to admire the view you had grown so used to.

There were a few lights seeping out from bedroom and office windows. The biggest, and brighter one, belonging to the Commander's office. It seemed to rarely go out, as Erwin went by the whole night filling paperwork.

You heard light, shuffling sounds to your right, where the man had sat down in a pose similar to yours. One of his legs dangled down the roof, the other propped up for his forearm to rest against his knee.

He had a pretty side profile. His features where sharp, high cheekbones reflecting the moonlight. He had a nicely defined jawline and an undercut that suited his straight, raven hair.

The frown was pretty much permanent on his face, going all the way down to his lips. His smoky eyes didn't have the natural glow everybody else's did.

"Has your family ever died on a mission?" His voice was deeper than you thought, making your head snap towards him.

"Excuse me?" Family. Nobody was dumb enough to get themselves involved in the outside world, let alone people who had a somewhat decent job near Wall Rose.

He gulped again, still refusing to turn and look at you. The side of one of his hands pressed against the cobble under you, avoiding to touch the ground entirely.

"Have you ever lost...family, friends, while being here? He asked again, in a lower volume. He let out a shaky breath, looking up towards the moon.

"We all have. We all will." The last bit of ash fell on your pants, staining them grey, as your cigarette consumed itself away. You pressed the bud to the ground, making it blink dead.

"You can't really expect somebody to survive. Every night prior to a mission is full of silent goodbyes. Just in case."

"How did you deal with it?"

You took the pack of cigarettes out from the inside of your leather jacket, opening it up and offering one to him. His eyes shifted to the box, trailing up to yours.

He reluctantly took one, rolling it in between his long fingers.

You placed a new rolled paper on your mouth, enjoying the excuse to smoke another one. You lit up one of the many matches you always had on yourself, holding it close to your mouth and later moving it closer to him. He leaned in, waiting for the tail of his cigarette to catch in fire and start burning the leaves inside.

You shook your hand to turn off the match before the warmth reached your fingerpads.

"I didn't. I got used to living with the grief."

His movements stopped, lips parted, about to inhale the smoke. His eyes widened before breaking eye contact.

"There's not much you can do anyway, right?" You laughed, dry. "I mean- whether we cry ourselves to sleep or not, they aren't gonna come back." You cleared your throat after speaking, feeling the warm smoke reach the back of your tongue and drying your mouth.

'They were also able to leave this shitty world behind before it all got worse than we could ever imagine', you tought .

"What do you do then?"

"Remember them." Your answer was almost immediate. "I believe that forgetting someone is the only way they can truly die. Until then, they are alive in us and our memories."

It was weird opening up so much to somebody you had never spoken to before, but you weren't hating it. The both of you were in clear need of help.

He didn't say anything after that, calmly finishing his cigarette as midnight dawned upon you both. He got up an dusted his clothes off, standing a bit closer to you.

You were so lost in thought counting the stars, that you only heard him halfway through telling you something.

"Hm?" You looked up at him, blinking your eyes a few times.

"Levi. The name's Levi." He repeated.

Right. He had said it the morning Erwin introduced the trio to the corps.

"Y/N." You replied with a small side-smile before he left through the door he had kicked open just hours back, telling you to not get caught.

You didn't expect him to be there the week after. Nor three nights after that. And you never thought he'd beat you to the roof one time, sitting next to two porcelain cups steaming with tea.

"What's that for?" You chuckled, making him turn around to face you.

"Sit your ass down and drink it. You're gonna leave that nasty habit of yours and relax your body with something else." He reached for one of the cups, comfortably holding it by the rim. He nodded his head towards the other one, signaling you to take it.

And so you did. You sat criss-crossed besides him, a further back from the edge of the roof.

You rolled your eyes and huffed with a smile when he immediately snatched the pack of cigarettes as soon as you took it out. He placed them on the other side of his body, where you weren't gonna be able to reach them.

You hummed after sipping on the tea. It was black leaves mixed with a faint taste of honey and berries. It didn't taste bad at all, it was even more enjoyable than tobacco.

"Can I still do it when I'm too stressed tho?" You asked him, your voice resonating on the porcelain close to your lips.

"As long as you give me one." He shrugged.

Levi never told you how he actually preferred the cigarettes from outside rather than the ones from the underground, as they were always too dry and sometimes even racid.

He never spoke about how night was the favorite part of his day; not because he could look at the moon, but because he got to talk to you with no one else around. (And it absolutely wasn't because of how damn pretty he thought you looked under the moonlight).

And he would absolutely never tell you how you were the only person he could stand in the entirety of corps, just because 'that is not like him' .

He also never told you about how he was able to cope a little better with not only his friends, but his mother's death, after talking to you; and that was the last night he ever felt lonely.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #aot #snk #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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