#he repeats himself a lot lol

[rubbish78]

dying at the last part of this interview as Gerard Way explains he would try to find people to play guitar with (like jam together in as a band) through ads in East Coast Rocker magazine when he was 15 years old. But most of the guys he invited over to his parent’s house were in their 30s, which his parents didn’t particular like:

love the fact he seemed to realize how weird that whole story sounded during that sentence lol while Frank Iero was trying to keep it together throughout the whole thing:

[vanosslirious]

Vanoss: Marcel, I'm close, so if you want to get inside of me, right now...

Nogla: No, you're just gonna go down...he won't go inside of you, you'll just go down on him.

Vanoss: He'll just go down on me, yeah. Marcel, Marcel, I'm pretty, I'm pretty close, so you should get inside of me and then I'll go down on you.

[nereidprinc3ss]

kiss it better

in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you

18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D

“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”

Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 

“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”

You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 

“This is pretty good.”

“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 

When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…

He’s just so alarmed?

“Honey, your knee.”

“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”

The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 

“What did you do?”

You snort. 

“What did you do, Spencer?”

It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 

“What do you mean? I did something?”

“Babe.”

The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 

“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”

Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 

“Oh.”

God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 

“What’s wrong?”

The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 

“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”

His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 

“No. My iron levels are optimal.”

Naturally. 

“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”

“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”

Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”

“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”

“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”

At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 

“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”

You laugh. 

“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”

“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”

“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”

He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 

“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”

“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 

“Never.”

You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 

“You could kiss them better.”

Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 

“I might just do that.”

[dutybcrne]

Okay addendum to the previous rambles, Fem!Haitham and Kaveh would be Immensely funnier bc he would cave SO much faster when they bicker, I can FEEL it

[dannydoesnotexist]

Once again, THANK YOU OP, LIKE- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

I for the first FOURTEEN YEARS OF MY LIFE (my mom) I emotionally abused and manipulated and gaslit, as well as threatened to be sent to a mental hospital (after being told that they were horrible and then later being gaslit into thinking that never happened and that they're fine) for expressing my want to go and seek help, I also had a horrible one-sided codependent relationship with my mother where I couldn't spend a whole *night* [sleep over] without her and without thinking I betrayed her somehow, she was controlling and I was *terrified* to ask anything of her because I didn't want her to yell at me and make me feel like I did something wrong by just asking a question.

I constantly felt the need to lie to her and I just *couldn't* be honest with her because I didn't want to risk pissing her off (later in life I would learn to track whatever mood she was in), I was constantly fucking stressed, high-strung, I had horrible anxiety and my grades were just dropping lower as time went on, I had so much missing homework and shit like that just because I was either too tired or just too burnt out by being the 'gifted kid' in my early life.

I was yelled at and laughed at for crying, told to be quiet when I laughed, and I got punished when i was angry, I was so stressed when I had to watch my sister at nine years old that I would *break down in tears* when she left us at the babysitter's because they didn't watch my sister and I had too and my sister was constantly crying because she was a toddler and wanted her mom. I cried on the way to the babysitter's because I didn't want her to leave since it took the whole day for her to get back. And so I grew up being taught that crying was weak and that showing pretty much any emotion was wrong and so my go-to emotion was anger.

Yelling was the only way I wouldn't be talked over and also the fact that I was constantly at my fucking limit (since I wasn't even in the double digits and I was worrying about paying bills and helping to make money) I was constantly in a bad mood and my mom would just be fucking condescending as shit which made me even more pissy, and as I got older and the abuse just went on the anger just burnt out and I was just fucking *tired* and *scared* of her I had anxiety attacks because of her and when that happened I would wake up and go to school early before she woke up because the next two days I *still* felt the panic in my chest. And then it got to the point where I was just tired of her shit, I ignored her when she tried to start fights with me and just began to isolate myself from her.

But I *understand* she has shit wrong with her (mentally, I fucking know she has trauma and mental issues because I fucking grew up having to deal with them first-hand) and I still care about her (I don't think I could ever stop) but that doesn't make the shit she did to me okay, and the fact that for years I must've deserved it I must've done something wrong because why would my mom, the person who's supposed to love me unconditionally, hurt me for no reason? It's fucking bullshit that people actually blame the victim JUST BECAUSE of their personality, like- you fucking idiots, people's personalities can be changed BECAUSE OF TRAUMA, I wasn't always the fucking blunt, sarcastic 'asshole' that I am today, but after years of being fucking chastised and made fun of for doing things I enjoy and expressing my emotions of course I'm going to be fucking weirded out when people can express emotions I'm a healthy way, or when I'm in a healthy environment or have to comfort some, BECAUSE I NEVER *GOT* THAT, SO HOW THE FUCK WOULD I BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND IT? it doesn't fucking matter how old I was. If you never grew up using the internet, how the fuck would you know what to do once you do use it, especially with nobody around to help you or if you're just to embarrassed to ask for help, that's how it fucking feels.

It's not my fault I was never taught how to show emotions in a healthy way, nor have I ever been apologized to for people hurting me, but it IS my fault if I hurt someone else, which I thankfully have a lot of self control and normally end up only hurting myself but not everyone is like that, for some people anger can be used as a weapon or a shield so that they can't be hurt at all or again by someone.

But pretty much what I'm trying to get at is that I relate to this man so fucking much that it's probably concerning, I *understand* what fucking *years* of stress and worry can do to someone and their mental health, especially with the fact that he also probably grew up being told showing emotion was weak, *and* he also has to provide for another person (mentioned in canon how he makes sure that the consequences of Ed's actions don't bite him in the ass) of course not as stressful as taking care of a child while you yourself are also one, but it's still fucking stressful. And that same person you're taking care of doesn't listen to you and you do everything in your power to make them listen without wanting to physically hurt them and they just DON'T LISTEN, of course you're gonna be fucking pissed especially if the person is YOUR BOSS, not your sibling, cousin, child, friend (even if they may have been friends in the past it seems to be more of a workplace friendship now that they're older), or lover, but YOUR *BOSS* who you *love* who is ignoring you; who has known him for at least a *decade*, over someone who he's known for less than a week, yeah you're gonna be fucking pissed off and jealous.

And also with the fact that the crew doesn't seem to have any experience working on a ship, something you have been doing for most of your life, along with the fact that *your* crew died to save these people your captain said that you would kill (at least their own captain), yeah you won't give a shit about them so it'll be easier to do the job and also just the fact that they suck at their jobs and so you don't like them by principle, but you also don't wanna fucking die and *nothing* is going the way you want and it feels like the world is ending because you seem to be the only person who actually wants to do your job, yeah all that pent up anger is gonna explode in everyone's face.

And so yeah, he stabs the guy his boss told him they were gonna kill, WHICH WAS THE ONLY REASON HE STAYED ON THE SHIP, and then he's kicked off the ship, and yes, the show isn't historically accurate and these guys try to be kinda like the present where abuse isn't good but *Izzy* is still in the unhealthy, toxic-masculinity pirate mindset and so, what happens when your boss whom you have worked for for years, lets people you cared about (crew) die to save some random 'pirates' who are shit at their job and whose captain *chose* piracy instead of not having a choice, the same people who don't respect your authority that you have worked hard to achieve, then your boss doesn't listen to you when you try to talk to him about the shit conditions of the ship, then your coworkers seem to 'turn' on you because they choose to stop doing their jobs, then your boss doesn't let you kill the man he said you two would kill and then lets you get kicked off the ship? You get desperate, especially because of the codependent relationship you have with your boss where you are *nothing* without him, and so you try to get him back to his job by showing him that this 'whim' has gotten out of hand, but *then* he decides to once again choose a man he has only known for at at least a few months over *you* someone who has been by his side for his worst and best days, someone who knows him better than himself, someone who is so used to being depended (just like you depending on him) on by him that you don't know what to do when he suddenly pulls away.

So yeah he's an asshole and I love him because of it, but he's also a victim and you people need to pull your heads out of your asses and stop villainizing him. And no, I'm not saying Ed is a mOnStEr, I'm saying that they both have had fucked up lives and because of that fucked up mental states, but what I am saying is that Izzy has NEVER laid a (harmful) hand on Edward (not that canon has implied anyways), while Edward has mutilated him, forced him to fucking cannibalize himself, shot him in the knee, causing it to be cut off, tried to do a double suicide (implied by the gun having two bullets) with him by making him kill both of them, led him to trying to kill himself, then gave him a half-assed apology ("sorry about the leg"), I don't know man but that sounds pretty fuck up to me.

Yes, Izzy yelled at him (people say shit when they're mad that they probably wouldn't if they weren't, in s1 Ed was *literally* the only one Izzy apologized to, which shows that he at least cares about what he says to Edward and at least cares somewhat about the affect it has on him) and sold Stede out to the English and got easily pissed off at the crew but how the FUCK does that lead to him deserving to be LITERALLY *TORTURED*

Sorry if this rant is just me repeating myself, or is just all over the place, or just sounds biased I just have a lot of pent up anger about this 😭😭😭🖐🏻

cannot believe that 'yelling at your boss when he repeatedly almost gets you and your crew killed and lies to manipulate you into staying when you try to leave, is not emotional abuse, actually' and 'there is such a thing as a mutually toxic and unhealthy relationship where both parties are incredibly shitty to each other - and this is obviously where Ed and Izzy stand until S2, when it becomes blatantly abusive' is a controversial take. But as this is Abuse Apologism And Ableism, The FandomTM, I really should not be surprised

Just.

I was deep in physically and mentally abusive relationships in my teens/twenties - including relationships that started out with mutual toxicity and bad decisions on all sides, but which became outright physical & mental & other sorts of abuse with myself as the victim. I know my shit.

I suppose I can see where 'Izzy emotionally abused Ed' comes from IF people give literally the most uncharitable interpretation to Every Single Scene, and assume Izzy shouts angrily at Ed and negs him all the time rather than this being how he acts when he's incredibly stressed by circumstance caused directly by Ed and at the end of his fucking rope? Which, as we see in S2... Is not the case.

It's not freaking emotional abuse when you're shouting at your boss who keeps almost getting you and your crew killed. Even if this is NOT a kind or productive way to help Ed deal with his mental health, considering that Ed's actions have consequences that he repeatedly and blithely ignores, it's pretty fucking justified!

It's not freaking emotional abuse if your boss OPENLY LOVES MAIMING PEOPLE AND IS MORE THAN HAPPY TO BURN THEM ALIVE and you encourage that, while upholding his right to not kill with his own hands. Even if he has private breakdowns after the fact because he suffers from black-and-white thinking, dissociates himself from any wrongdoing, and is afraid of his potential to become 'a monster'.

Are these choices helpful? No. Are they kind? No. Is Izzy demonstrating Model Citizen Behaviour? Definitely not.

But it's sure as hell not emotional abuse. And it doesn't justify the physical and emotional abuse Ed puts Izzy through in S2.

Nothing you say can 'make' him hit you. If he chooses to hit you (or... choke you out then repeatedly mutilate you and pressure you to commit suicide and makes you constantly live in fear for your life and the lives of people you care about) he makes that decision himself. Yes, even if you shouted at him first. Yes, even if you were arguing. Yes, even if you were in the wrong in that argument. Yes, even if he has a Tragic BackstoryTM and mental health issues. This shit shouldn't be controversial.

Signed: one of those actual abuse survivors.

[screampied]

BAD ROMANCE! — ☆ SATOSUGU.

➤ popstar!gojo mlist.

headline. being sandwiched between a popstar and geto, his bassist best friend was almost like a fever dream. what happens when they start fighting over who can make you moan the highest note? sharing is caring…right?

word count. 5.8k (i am sorry)

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, bassist geto, geto has a tongue piercing, threesome, double penetration, manhandling, fucking while standing, size kink, unprotected sex, implied multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, gojo slander (lol)

an. makes sense if u read the first part !! if not that’s okaaay. sry for any errorssss aha

“seriously. join…the two of you?” geto mutters with a subtle eye twitch—you stared at the lead bassist, and he briefly returned a glance. his hands were buried in his pockets, wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans and a fitted white tank underneath. geto’s hair was a tad bit ruffled with a perfect length wolf cut. “you do realize your fans have been waiting for you for over an hour.”

“oh….right, i did have a concert,” gojo nervously chuckles, running a hand down his neck. “they heard everything too. nanami’s gonna kill me. that’s fun.”

geto’s eyes dart back towards you and suddenly you feel extremely nervous. you could never ever read him, he just a blank stare plastered amongst his face.

“i don’t think we’ve officially met. wish i didn’t have to meet you half-naked but,” and you were embarrassed, feeling the tips of your ears get feverish and abnormally hot. “i’m this idiot’s bassist. suguru ge—”

“bro she didn’t ask for your life story,” gojo groans, and you let off a gasp once he lifts you up, an arm underneath you and another bringing you towards his chest. “sugupoo, you didn’t answer my question.”

“sugupo—” he furrows his eyebrows, repeating the petname. geto grumbles, “…fine, but not here. we can…go back to my hotel or something.”

this was far more than anything you could have imagined. being between two idols. more so gojo but still. you were pretty much left with shredded clothing thanks to gojo barely even an hour ago…

“is she always this sensitive to touch?” geto utters, peeling your the remains of your clothes off — which was basically just a thin robe. he was tantalizingly slow with his hands, the very pads of his fingertips ghosting against your skin made you left off a soft gasp.

“pretty much,” gojo hums, and you watch as the popstar lowers his head to kiss near your thighs. “she’s a little camera shy.”

“what does that even-”

“…nevermind.”

geto was more tame while gojo was far more eager. you make brief eye contact with geto and he leans in toward you. you were expecting him to kiss you but instead, he brings a thumb towards your lip and smiles. “you’re a lot prettier in person, assistant. what are you doing messing around with this idiot?”

“um—”

“none of your business. besides, don’t talk to my work wife like that.” gojo pouts, and he makes you face him directly. 

obviously, he was being nothing but a pure tease. you feel yourself grow hot once gojo presses his lips onto yours. you could hear geto scoffing in the background.

you and gojo weren’t exactly a thing… although, maybe this “thing” was developing into some sort of fling. 

you moan into his mouth, feeling gojo’s hand trail down to part against your thigh before geto pries the two of you off, only to bring you into a much more steamy kiss. 

gojo’s jaw drops dramatically, a squeaky gasp leaving his lips as he watches you make out with geto.

geto was far more passionate and tender by a mile. with a soft thumb grazing beneath your chin, you let off a soft whine. tasting the sugary spiced alcohol on his tongue…..just a tang, but it was enough for you to covet more of him. more of his taste.

“this isn’t…. fair.” gojo nags, yet his body feels otherwise. seeing his bassist of a best friend kiss you deeply, touching all over your body. he started to feel himself get…aroused. 

you feel a cunning smirk go against geto’s lips. with a hand gripped softly underneath your chin, he continues to stroke it soothingly. 

he was so deliberate with his tongue, making sure to savour every inch of you. a groan leaves his mouth as he deepens the kiss for a brisk second. his breath was eminently lukewarm, and you don’t even recollect yourself pulling him closer to your already achey body. 

“suguru, you’re beinʼ stingy,” gojo frowns, starting to think if suggesting him to tag along was a good idea… perhaps not… after all, he was the satoru gojo. he’s never been a fan of share the spotlight.

geto swiftly pulls away and his eye contact against you makes you grow hot. his eyes spoke a thousand words, dirty dirty words though. gojo lets off a vexed sigh before running a hand through his hair. “…i have an idea though.”

“what?” you and geto both speak in low unison. 

the popstar has a cheeky grin on his lips before playfully rolling his eyes, tilting his head. “which can make her louder. then again, i already know i’m gonna win sooo…”

geto utters in the most sassiest tone imaginable, “please. you’d probably be the loudest out of all of us but fine.”

the thought of them both fighting over you, your client, and his best friend as well as his lead bassist.

you firmly clasped your thighs together before shyly drawing circles against the outer part of your arm. “well, he was pretty loud earlier. his fans heard him moaning all through his mic backstage and—”

“tch. shut up..” he grumbles, trying to forget that incident even happened. 

gojo now decides to pulls you into sweet passionate fulfilled kiss, and it’s deep with a bit of tongue.

you were indeed basically naked with the exception of a silk sage-colored robe he bought you as a new year’s eve gift. it hung down your body perfectly, just enough to make out your skin. 

geto makes you slip a whine into gojo’s mouth once he spreads your legs with one hand—you were drenched, soaked….no doubt about it. “no panties,” he mutters in a rough voice. “satoru must’ve beat me to it, hmpf.”

you started to pant the more gojo moved his tongue against yours, you could tell how needy he was. even though he already had a taste from you earlier, he wanted more. you were like some kind of candy, intoxicatingly sweetened. 

he smoothly slides his tongue against your bottom lip, grunting from the leftover taste of your flavored lip gloss that was by this point smeared across your lips. whenever gojo kissed you, you had this warm burning feeling inside. it was indescribable, you knew more than anyone how unprofessional this was…yet it felt good, his touch, his taste, even his rich scent. 

“what a mess. already drenched for me,” geto murmurs, and you peek an eye open to watch the bassist go down, between your legs. you sit up with gojo tilting your head to face him, thighs spread apart and you let off a moan once he starts to work his way. 

slowly, geto creates tender kisses… 

he creates a simple trail, all up your thighs. the softness of his lips pressing against your skin made you whine against gojo’s lips.

gojo moves your chin back to focus back towards him, and he gives your bottom lip an impish bite.

peppering the side parts of your mouth with numerous wet kisses. “mwah,” he’d coo, a teasing gesture yet the stare he gave you made you throb. “my fans heard us…heard you, y’know. how does that make you feel?”

you stare at gojo, and his eyebrows are slightly raised in curiosity. he was such a tease, wanting to know your response. 

geto’s tongue licks against the inner part of your thigh and you moan. that’s when you feel a slight coldness of his tongue piercing run against your skin — it tickles but in the best way imaginable. 

he starts to suck against your skin, a soft ‘pop’ skims past his lips and you whine before gojo squeezes your lips together. 

“heyyy, pretty. ‘m talking to you.” he whispers, leaning in to sneak another kiss on your mouth. 

“i— i liked it,” you utter, geto’s touch from underneath, a finger trailing against your skin with his tongue following shortly afterward made you pulse continuously. “knowing everyone heard me….your die-hard fans, it turned me on a little.”

“yeah? did it really?” he grins, showcasing a casual head tilt. “wow, you really are a kinky girl. but it turned me on too,” he adds, inching his face towards your neck to give it a soft suck. “hmph. next time i should probably fuck you on stage, wouldn’t that be a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his voice playfully lowering. “ooh, it’s probably all over the headlines, but eh, who gives a shit, right? not me, and definitely not her.”

you were just about to let off a mewl once gojo reached down to give your pussy a mean squeeze as soon as he referred to it as ‘her.’

he brings an additional kiss to you before you feel the warmth of geto’s breath fan against your entrance. you start to pant, feeling gojo’s hands roam and wander all against your body. 

an abrupt shock surges throughout your skin from his fingertips and the silk robe you wore. gojo traced a thumb against your nipple—your overly-sensitive nipple that poked through the thin pretty fabric. you were so aroused that your mind raced just as quickly as your heartbeat did. 

“fuck…dunno know what it is about you,” he murmurs, breaking away a few seconds to speak. there was a titillating bass that carried underneath gojo’s tone. 

you could hear it in his voice, how pitchy and low it would get at certain times. “just lookin’ at you gets me s-so hard,” and then he swallowed for a second, departing eye contact out of sheer flusteredness and it was cute. “still a bit…sensitive from earlier though. had the audacity to keep ridin’ me after i c-came.” 

“sorry.” you playfully press your lips together, glancing up at him and he grows embarrassed for a moment at remembering the pure thought. 

the image of him… the satoru gojo and you, his trusty assistant — being on top of the famous well-known pop star, riding him until he whined for just you and only you.

not to mention as well as having him as an entire mess underneath you. he probably was too stubborn to realize it but you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger…

to think that was just about nearly half an hour ago. your thoughts get interrupted from feeling geto’s tongue meekly lick against your inner folds. a sharp breath elicits from your throat as you look down at him already staring at you with a smug grin. 

“toru already got here too?” he whispers, ghosting a thumb against your sodden folds. his slender fingers were so long and lengthy, nails perfectly manicured, and of course, he’d have well-trimmed nails because of his status as a professional bassist.

all things considered, geto would just be godly with his fingers. it was no secret, really…

“of course i fuckin’ did.” gojo pouts, giving him a nettled glare. 

geto snickers. “aw. poor girl,” and then he makes eye contact with you, smugly simpering.

geto takes a second to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail before pursing his lips to speak. “he’s a good singer, yeahhh. but he has a huge lack of skill at eating pussy. trust me.”

“shut up, man..” gojo’s eyes widen, the tips of his ears burning, it was adorable. “that’s…not true.”

it was.

“suguruuu..” you whined, not even realize how much you were desperately aching for him. the two bickering was a constant thing, but you decided to ignore it and let the lust take over. 

“i’m sorry, i should be paying more attention to you,” he mutters, using a hand to shove your right thigh a few inches away.

geto promptly rolls out his tongue….slowly, pink and pretty. clean. your eyes peer at the pretty piercing that laid flat against the center part. “keep these legs spread for me. can you be a good girl ‘n do that?”

you unwittingly feel yourself pulse just from that action of him showing you a good view of his tongue. you give the bassist a pathetic eager nod, a hand running towards the roots of his hair to grip it before he grins. “good, ‘cause ‘m starved.”

“sugu, what… what am i supposed to do?” gojo huffs out. 

“figure it out yourself, popstar.” geto murmurs, and a soft pout twists against gojo’s lips. 

that’s when he makes you turn over to where you’re on your hands and knees—you face forward, most importantly, you face forward right against gojo’s crotch. face front and all.

he lingers near the edge of the bed, towering over you with a hungry gaze before letting off a whine. 

“jus’ look at me….i can’t perform like this,” not like he was going to perform anyway…but you stare at gojo’s body. all he wore was sweats, the original partially bedazzled outfit that was actually geto’s was practically torn. “you gave me this boner, ‘s your fault ‘m all needy.”

geto interrupts the erotic atmosphere with his tongue gradually flicking against your pussy, two rough hands spread the fat of your ass and you whine at how abruptly lewd it was. “oh my g-goddd.”

gojo feels like he has competition with geto, so he frowns—the pout remaining on his pink sheeny lips before he grips ahold of your chin to make you stare straight at him whilst you’re on all fours on the cushioned mattress. 

“been…been wantin’ to finally see what this pretty throat feels like,” 

he sighs, and he watches as you already start to lean into his touch. you’re on the palms of your hands, back slightly arched before you pull the hem of his boxers down with your teeth. “you’re such a little... you…you know what you’re doing..”

gojo lets off a soft grunt, gripping your hair, and as you inch your face closer toward him — a few specks of his neatly scattered brush against his face. you lick against the padded fabric of his boxers, curving your tongue against the print of his bulge and he swallows thickly. 

“you’re so fuckin’ nasty,” he huffs, bringing you all close to his briefs. you stare up at gojo, licking against the thin madematerial before cupping your mouth over his bulge…right near his base, in a much playful manner. “you’re—just asking to have a stuffed full mouth, huh?”

again, geto’s tongue rummaged all throughout your pussy while you absentmindly toying with gojo throws you off for a sudden concise moment. 

he was just as filthy, maybe even filthier. as you propped up—you whimpered, feeling how he ran his tongue all along your sweetened labia. 

your pussy pulsed against his movements, he starts to teasingly nibble on your clit before giving it a loooong suck. 

“mmph.” he’d grumble, and within minutes you could tell you had him entirely drunk. his tongue was just skimming around and against your clit that forevermore clenched. before you know it, you’re starting to intensely jounce and convulse because of the stimulation. 

his tongue laid flat against your pussy, the piercing that stuck against him, the slight coldness of it made you obliviously arch your back a bit more. toes of yours clenched in desire before your mouth opened at his technique.

geto was slow but sensual. 

his tongue… it spiraled against your pussy in a sweet motion to make you sob out a cry. 

“open that mouth,” gojo mutters, his hand still gripping your chin, and you do, parting your lips before watching him spring his dick out. it was throbbing, swollen, and not to mention quite pretty.

he wasn’t lying—you did leave him incredibly sensitive from earlier…

gojo lets off a breathless groan once he watches you kiss the tip of his cock head, which ends up turning into many kisses. his lip quivers the more time he spends staring at you. his breath becomes abnormally shaky, all because of you.

“…don’t tease me,” he whines before wrapping shuddery fingers around his fat length, giving it a few swift pumps before he starts to smear his pre-cum smothered tip all across your lips.

you give the popstar a cute, roguish glance before skimming the tip of your tongue against his frenulum. 

that spot…it was that spot that always gave gojo chills. he was trying too hard to keep up a tough front. he’s suppressing his moans before he watches you sink him down inch by inch. 

“mouth of yours ‘s just askin’ to be ruined,” he moans, and your eyes dart back up toward the popstar. his washboard abs tightened as he stood still, watching you lower your throat on him. you were a bit sloppy not to mention, strands of spit were already running down the side of your chin. “such a slutty assistant. unprofessional and—”

gojo shuts up the moment he feels your tongue stir leisurely against his tip, he’s halfway in before you gag. he reaches the roof of your mouth already, and you’re keeping him warm, all thanks to your throat.

“…damn girl,” he huffs, and as you’re breathing through your nose, he grabs a fistful of your hair.

with a tight pull, your eyes meet his abs again, and he was so fit. figures, he is an industrially well-trained dancer after all. gojo’s workout routine was no mystery. you throbbed a bit the more you stared at his body. 

as your eyes rove, you spotted a few lipstick stains smeared all against gojo’s skin, as well as a few sharpie marks. you figured it was from one of his obsessed die-hard fans.

it was just the way his perfectly sculptured chiseled v-line presented itself. the few specks of white hairs trailing down his area further and further to where it aligns toward his happy trail…

yet, the more you stared back at the dozens of now nearly faded marks of lipstick stains scattered all over his body—you don’t know why but you felt this peculiar feeling of…jealousy. 

was it jealousy?

geto continues to eat you out as you’re trapped in a dark bubble of your thoughts, and you whimper once you feel the soft padded tip of his nose slide all against your pussy. 

he was quite literally nose-deep, making you extra sensitive by adding a finger to rub against your soaked folds. 

his touch was fiery warm.

as you started to moderately make your lips firm. you slid your tongue out before gently rubbing it against the very underside part of his cock. gojo groans once more, face growing flustered as a hand remains at the top of your head. “such a filthy mouth,” he pants, hovering over you beside the bed.  

geto’s still eating you from behind, and he starts sucking again. passionately sucking on your throbbing neglected clit. he makes it his passion to give it all sorts of uninvited attention to feel you pulse and convulse into and against his mouth. 

gojo watches you start to vigorously shake and twitch from his best friend’s tongue, and he raises your chin up to look right at him.

mouth full and all, your tongue reaches the inner vein part of gojo’s lanky cock, he whines. 

“s-shit,” he sibilates through gritted teeth, and that’s when he started to pivot his hips a bit. gojo thrusts into your mouth — and his moans were so pretty to listen to, he was a soprano after all.

the way his voice would effortlessly pitch all because of your tongue…he grabs your head, gently, yet with just enough pressure he makes you go back and forth, he’s stuffing your throat full of his girth, full of his inches.

you’re a mess, strings of saliva pouring down your chin and he looks down at you before nervously chuckling. “look at you. what, are you trying to say something?”

and he’s just at his limit, near the edge yet is such a brat. way too much for his own good. “don’t try to talk with y-your mouth full, princess.”

abruptly, you feel that familiar rush disrupt your thinking and you suddenly tense.

geto’s tongue slithers all against that spot, deep between your folds, and giving it a good nibble before your legs nearly give out right then and there. such whirlpools, a plethora of them came crashing down all at once before you moaned, the sensation was almost too much to bare. 

“give it to me, c’mon. i wanna hear you.” geto whispers, breath wafting against your clit. glossed pink lips of his was just drenched with your slit for it’s entirety.

he merrily blows against your pussy and that was just about the last straw for you—you end up cumming, and it had your eyebrows furrowing with such pleasure. 

“pft. took me longer to make her cum when i…” gojo gruffs, the same pout still pursed against his lips as he watched you riding your orgasm off against the bassist’s tongue. 

covetously, he watches as your eyelids start to droop and you’re growing quite dumb.

geto’s tongue….the length of it, the piercing, it tickled against your wet entrance as well as having you spasming and craving for more. 

gojo takes his dick out of your mouth hastily with a cute scowl on his lips whilst geto departs from behind you. 

he has a sly grin, bringing a thumb up to the corner of his mouth before swiping your slick clean. 

“jealous, ‘toru?”

“…no,” he grouches, and he definitely was. the popstar lifts you up suddenly, and your arms wrap around his neck, still panting from your recent jaw-dropping orgasmic release. “i can still do better than you, sugupoo.”

“i told you to stop calling me that.” geto chastised, standing up also. walking towards you, he ran a hand down your back and you moaned from his touch. 

you bury your face into gojo’s neck, your own warm breath going back against your face. the pop star’s half-cut-sparkled open glove traces down your back before he slyly smiles. beads of sweat races down his forehead before the singer hums. “suguru. do ya think we can fuck her like this?”

“standing up?” the bassist murmurs, and they’re both grazing their hands all over your body. while gojo has you lifted up, your legs tightly wrap and lock around his waist like a vice before geto kisses the back of your neck, pitching his voice lower as he speaks to you. “what do you think? can you handle the two of us, pretty girl?” 

you whine against gojo’s neck, trembling from geto’s touch behind you. how gentle he was, leaning in to suck against the tenderness part of your collarbone. “yeah,” you nod, and gojo glanced down at you with a smug grin forming on his lips. “j-just hurry up. satoru should have been performing like an hour ago.”

“damn, that’s true. i kinda forgot about that,” he timidly chortles, and he raises you up in his buff arms just a bit. “oh well. heh, i mean you…you can explain it to kento for me, yeah? i know he’s my manager but fuck, he scares me. if he’s nosy just tell him i’m uh…i got athlete's foot.”

there was a long rightfully so pause and geto’s hands remained gripped against your waist. “idiot…” he mumbles. 

the moment gojo aligns himself, you intake a sharp breath — mentally preparing yourself because you were about to take not only him, but his best friend also….while standing. 

“hold on to ‘toru. i’m gonna have to stretch you just a little…” geto purrs against your ear.

you made candid eye contact with gojo and he flashes a sheepish grin before planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. 

“i stretched her already.” gojo shrugs. 

“you did a lousy fuckin’ job then.” geto snarls, and you moan, feeling the thickness of geto go right into you with simplicity.

needless to say, it was sloppy. 

your cunt squelched in utter enthusiasm as he eases his way inside of you. gojo rolls his eyes at geto’s remark, and you’re quite literally being double stuffed. they both were slow and precise with their movements and you’re just in awe, dumbfounded, stupid…

you’ve never felt so full.

both of them deep inside of you, churning up your insides at the same time. you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked like this.

not only were you being shared but doing everything while standing up—your arms pathetically wrapped around gojo’s neck, and it’s the perfect position to stare right into the pop star's eyes. 

he returns the gaze, and he grows flustered, lip quivering, ears twitching, eyebrows contorting. he was trying just as much as you to not be so loud, so vocal. yet a moan slips out, and gojo’s moans never fail to be so slutty. 

“think i can see why he’s so obsessed with you,” geto grunts, maintaining a firm grip against your hips. he’s taking you from behind with gojo occupied towards the front, each pretty glacé coated whimper that ran off past your lips grew shakier and shakier from the deep thrusts you were being given.

as you idly bounced against their dicks, you were again, stupid—brainless.

your mouth ends up partially opening as you’re moaning. your pussy gripped against each of them tightly. squeezing and clamping down against each of them to where you’re just so dizzy. 

geto’s thick and girth, meanwhile gojo’s long and lengthy…

your ears fet like they were about to pop from the sheer sudden humidity in the room the more you bobbed and jostled against them. biting your lip to conceal an incoming moan, your eyes briefly roll backward before you suddenly feel the plump mushroom-tip of gojo’s dick fully expand and reach there. 

“f-fuck, oh my g-godd,” you’d whine, rough sounds of your skin against theirs ricocheting amongst each other. such beefy bulky toned arms had you propped up in such an obscene way, you craved more. “…so deep.”

gojo leans in for a wet kiss and you kiss back, a plethora of whimpers and whines glissade right into his mouth - he swiftly swipes a tongue against yours, sloppy per usual before even he starts to moan. in such a way, you never failed to leave gojo all hot and bothered.

“you two are such sluts for each other, it’s cute..” 

as the bassist teases and pokes fun, you shudder, feeling geto press up against your ass… 

the stretch, the girth he had that made him thicker… it was mouthwateringly appetizing.

you found yourself practically drooling just from his dick, the way the curve of it hit that same repeated spots to make you grow dumber and dumber. you were starting to get so loopy from his best friend that you completely forgot gojo was in the picture for a quick second. 

geto being abutting against you, his body heat was entirely chambré—the fabric of his leather jacket, the cold frigid zippers skin against your skin and you lean back against his chest. despite all of this, gojo’s still managing to have you being fucked upright.  

your entrance was slick…damp, coated each of their cocks with your dampened arousal before your breathing starts to catch up with you. 

“s-shit, ‘m not gonna last.” gojo starts, and his body language changes a bit—you study his facial expressions, the way his lips contort into a perturbed pout. skin against skin, you radiated from their heat thoroughly before geto shakes his head with a sly scoff. 

“of course you’re not.” he snickers. 

“s-shut up, sugupoo,” he whines, hastily his head goes back. the popstar’s hair goes all over his face, long white strands occluding his view of vision and it's sexy. the way he’d become whiney out of nowhere, pressing his lips together in utter desperation. you had him a mess, whining again and again, regardless of trying to keep up a front. “she’s gonna milk me ‘n it’s all your fault..”

you throbbed from his words, and the popstar could barely keep his eyes open. he’s so sensitive, keeping you up with his arms while geto has you from the other end, geto sighs dramatically. “here he goes.”

“you both talk too much.” you mewl, clinging onto gojo’s neck. 

“no we don’t.” they both say in unison before giving each other a glare. 

geto scoffs whilst gojo pokes his lip out, focusing his attention back towards you. yet the minute gojo cums, his dick ends up slipping out of you and that’s when he becomes a stuttering mess. 

“s-shit,” he huffs, wrapping a hand around his base before repositioning it again. ropes of his cum start to seep out your cunt, geto watches and he’s speechless—you mewl, feeling geto run a thumb down your slit only to then smear gojo’s cum against your pussy. “so much to give you, even still.”

gojo starts whimpering. stretching such inches inside of you while geto pauses his movements. you felt warm, not to mention exceedingly full. 

you were stuffed, to the utmost limit…

the two took turns with you. you were treated like a rag doll if one was to be honest. it was as if stamina didn’t exist for them. positions after positions, there’d be a point where geto’s sucking against your nipples while gojo’s slamming his hips into you with the sweetest whimpers dragging out from his pretty glossed lips.

albeit, you don’t expect geto to get whiney…

but he does.

you’d be riding him, he’s laid back against the bed with his legs openly spread and clenched. a sharp jawline points forward as he faces you forward. “fuckk, your hips are so..” he’d groan, his head goes back in desireable pleasure and you lean in to bombard the inner part of his neck with sweet kisses.

gojo’s behind you, and he finds himself getting jealous and a tad bit clingy. you moan, feeling him lick a long stripe up your neck, wanting you to pay more attention to him and not his dumb best friend.

geto’s so attractive from this perspective..

you decide to be a tease, planting a kiss near the corner of his mouth—your lips meeting his revealing dimples. “gripping me s-so good,” he groans, bringing a sharp smack to your ass for ‘encouragement.’

he craved the way you grinded against him, not too fast, not too quick…just right. your hips slid from front to back, swiveling all around him to where a whine rips from his throat. “damnnn, just like that. f-fuck me, fuck megirl...”

his voice deopped a single octave, and he even brought a hand up to his face to shield his pure embarrassment.

gojo snickers before he speaks, peppering kisses against your collarbone before peering at his best friend. “awww, look at sugupoo. all that talk ‘n he’s just as whiny as i was.”

“shut up.. fuckin’ shut…up,” he groans, his nostrils flare and you lean in to kiss geto, he kisses back, and this time it’s sloppy and less passionate. it’s rougher. the instant second his lips meet yours, a low moan from geto slips out.

he pants heavily against you, breaking away for a second to breath — his hands were pinching your waist, brushing against your tender skin before he exhales out a sigh.

geto’s hair, tied into a near ponytail had a few strands poking out, scattered all against his face. he groans, feeling your clit rub against him slowly and gradually.

perfectly aligned and lined up right, he shudders once he feels your hand roam against his body, sliding a finger down a scar near the right side of his chest. 

gojo, still being sat behind you as he impatiently watched, reaches between your legs and starts to play with your pussy. you whined, feeling him start to maneuver tiny circles against your already sensitive folds before geto pulls away to breath yet again. 

a pretty sheeny web of spit coats against your chin and his as you depart from one another. your lips, and his jaw tightens. “f-fuckkk, fuck me. fuck me like that, don’t s-stop.”

he found the way you mounted him in such a good angle, it makes him ten times harder. geto’s thick cock slams in and out of you to where he’s almost tasting how swollen he was. you ploddingly thrust your hips forward before geto pulls you into his chest suddenly. 

“suguruuu.” you’d whinge, feeling him squeeze the fat of your ass.  

“fuckk,” he raps, you could be milking me all the time instead of this—this wannabe justin bieber.”

“hey…” gojo narrows his eyes, and he catches you giggling at geto’s remark. geto peeks an eye to stare at gojo before a smile goes against his lips, soley before turning his attention back towards you.

once geto’s body relaxes, he feels the pressure rising up within him to the point of his incoming release. the fiery sensations of electricity went all through. such fiery sensations piercing, he’s bouncing his thigh in an attempt to deepen his strokes inside you to make you whine yourself. 

“damn, ‘s good. s-so fuckin’ good,” he swallows, grunting once you lean in to kiss the front part of his adam’s apple. “gonna flood your pussy, you want that? want me to make a fuckin’ mess of myself?”

“y-yeah.” you breathe, nodding in contentment. “suguru please.”

geto’s vision becomes a little blurry, he’s hazy and it feels so good…your cunt’s got him on a leash.

he fell in love with the way your hips rolled against him again and again, each spank he gives your ass makes him throb. the girth he had lunging inside of you, outstretching to where it prods against your g-spot. “f-fuck.” you’d sob, slumping your head against the bassist. 

once he eventually came, it was way more than gojo. more as in you’re stuffed fuller than you thought you could ever be. you pause, huffing and puffing as your ear laid flat against his bare chest. geto aches, heavily panting himself and sweat droplets raced down his v-line. 

“i think i won,” gojo frowns, breaking the two of you up—you were practically limp, geto’s cum dripping out of you. you moaned, trying to recollect your breath but failing. 

geto leans back, giving gojo a side eye before murmuring. “just shut up..”

“aw. poor sugu’s all d—”

gojo’s voice gets rudely interrupted by the annoying screech of your ringtone. the two of them stare at the blue light, and gojo picks it up with a curious expression. 

“ooh, phone call,” and he picks it up, bringing it up to his face and raises a brow. “huh. why’s uh..” and he turns it the opposite way, “why’s fushiguro toji calling you? and heh what’s with the dumb heart by his name. isn’t he my old producer?”

geto grumbles, still silently heaving with a hand rubbing against his abdomen. “yeah, that scum who tried to take parts of our salary from that one gig we did,” and then geto darts his eyes towards you with an unreadable expression “why is he calling you?”

your stomach quite literally drops. you sat on the plump bed laid flat on your tummy. momentarily stunned for a moment. alas, you had to say something… you sat up, the phone continuing to sing in the distance before uttering. 

“toji…he’s um…he’s kind of my boyfriend.”

yeah, you were fucked. 

[churipu]

STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.

note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.

"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.

"satoru . . ."

"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.

gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.

god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.

"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.

gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"

"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.

frankly, it's haunting.

out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.

"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."

there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."

"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.

"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.

"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."

"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."

and everything ended right after. including you.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[imasimpforshanks]

how they respond to you asking “what do you even like about me?”

ft. ace, luffy, sanji, shanks, sabo, law, zoro

a/n: not me actually having MORE ideas to post????? BUT FOR REAL THO I’m so awful when it comes to posting i either have lots of ideas and no self control so post things IMMEDIATELY or i disappear for 8 months 😭😭😭😭😭 like i know I literally post what like 9 hours ago but here we are again 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️I’m too impatient LOL

also this is fluff fluff and more fluff!!! maybe a hint of insecurities????? not really though just silly stuff! Fem!reader in aces one but other than no specified gender!! love ya’ll please enjoy xxxxxx

ace looks at you incredulously for a second. “really?” he asks, and when you nod in response ace pulls you into his arms laughing fondly, “i mean what’s not to like? you’re literally my dream girl!”

you smile at the way luffy’s eyebrows furrow and his lips pull into a pout as he ponders your question for a moment. you find your smile widening as luffy stands up, stretches his arms to the sky and shouts with so much joy you can feel it radiate from his body, “you’re you! that’s what i like. no wait- that’s what i love!”

sanji looks slightly taken aback by your question, “if you’re asking me that, it seems i have failed as a boyfriend! im so sorry, my love.” to immediately right his wrong, sanji takes your hand in his own, kneels before you and begins listing off each and every thing he likes (loves) about you, punctuating each one with a kiss to your hand.

“your ass,” shanks instantly replies with a chuckle, but when he notices you’re unimpressed by his answer he pulls you into his lap and says reassuringly, “you are the love of my life. i love every single thing about you.” and when you playfully retort ”much better” he can’t help but tease, “and for real i reaaaaally love your ass.”

“well, there’s nothing i ‘like’ about y-“ sabo begins before quickly correcting himself, “no wait, what i mean is… im so in love with you that there’s nothing i only ‘like’ about you.” he pauses before continuing, “does that make sense? there’s nothing to like - only things to love!” he finishes his sentiment with a firm kiss to your lips.

law mistakes your genuine curiosity as questioning his love for you, so he immediately stops what he is doing, turns to face you and apologize, “im so sorry i don’t tell you enough. i’ll do better.” and ever a man of his word, you wake up the next morning to hand written list of all the things he likes about you (and the next day, and the next).

zoro pauses for a moment, practically malfunctioning as his mind blanks while he struggles to come up with an answer, because he doesn’t even know where to begin, “i-i uh- i don’t know…” but then you’re turning away from him with a pout and glossy eyes and he surprises himself when he blurts, “there’s just too much to choose from.” then you’re asking him to repeat himself and zoro complies, saying (much more confidently this time around), “i wouldn’t even know where to start because there’s too many things i like about you.”

[emphistic]

Hiii I wanted to say I love yours works and was wondering how sukuna would react to yuuji wanting us to be his valentines 💓💓💓

Yuuji knows what chocolates you do and do not like. . . Actually, he didn’t. Sukuna did, however. And — being the awesomest brother he was — told Yuuji, albeit not for free. The boy had to earn it (Sukuna’s words) by mopping the floors of the apartment. Why did Sukuna choose such an odd way of payment? Who knows. And then, of course, Sukuna had to accompany Yuuji to the store in order to purchase said chocolates.

Yuuji isn’t sure what flowers you do and do not like. But he didn’t care; he thought all flowers were beautiful no matter what color, shape, size, and that each flower was pretty and unique in its own way. That’s what he repeated to himself in his head as he picked flowers straight from the dirt in the gardens outside your apartment complex.

Yuuji sees you wear some colors more than others. So he assumes you like those best. That’s what he thinks to himself as he colors in a card for you using those exact colors with his crayons. And though they weren’t a carbon copy — since he was working with very limited resources — his brain didn’t notice. And neither did you, when you received the card.

Yuuji loves you, a lot. He loves you a lot. Yuuji loved how caring you were when he got a boo-boo. Yuuji loved how good your cooking tasted compared to everyone else's. Yuuji loved how you would sing him to sleep — he, like his brother, thought your voice was amazingly lovely. Yuuji loved how funny you were, the jokes you would tell to cheer him up, and they worked. They always worked. Yuuji loved how soft your hands were when brushing through his unruly pink locks, much like his brother. Yuuji loved how you showered him with your undivided attention.

Yuuji was a smart kid . . . sometimes. He saw the way his brother changed when you started coming over to the apartment more and more often. Even when he was very little, he noticed. He noticed that after you permanently moved into the apartment, Sukuna was softer towards him. Sukuna smiled more. Sukuna laughed more. Sukuna loved more.

And so, Yuuji loved you a lot. Because, most importantly, he loved how you changed Sukuna — for the better.

Unfortunately, and like most kids, one thing he didn’t love was . . . school.

School, a center for learning to some and a prison to most. But if he didn’t go to school, how would he learn what Valentine’s Day was? How would he know that Valentine’s Day was a holiday to celebrate love, friendship, and admiration, for those you call special? He wouldn’t. Yeah, in a nutshell, long story short, however you want to call it, Yuuji wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know what Valentine’s Day was. But, without you, he wouldn’t even know what love was — save for his brother, [occasionally], of course.

And what did Sukuna do? — Since he loved Yuuji so much? He fixed the little kiddo a tie and suit, of course! Yuuji looked utterly dashing wearing Sukuna’s suit; the pants were dragging a bazillion feet behind the boy and the tie was completely off-centered. (Were you expecting a suit tailored and sized for a little boy? LOL.) Maybe Sukuna did that on purpose. Maybe not. Sukuna did happen to snap a picture, though. Oh, he was so going to use this as blackmail once Yuuji grew older.

Yuuji thought he had finally obtained the confidence and big muscles of a man when he grew the courage to sit you down on the couch so he could “talk” to you. But as soon as he saw you looking attentively at him with the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen in his whole four years on this planet, he nearly experienced heart palpitations right then and there.

Coming to the rescue, Sukuna came over and patted his younger brother on the back. Nodding at him in reassurance.

You had to admit, Yuuji looked absolutely adorable whilst he stuttered over big, complicated words not fit for a mere child, but when he finally got it, he shoved the chocolates, flowers, and card into your hands.

“And—and, I wan’ to ask you to be my va . . . wen . . . tine. . . Vawentine!” It took him a few tries to remember the “correct” pronunciation and to sound out the word syllable by syllable, but what mattered most was that he got it — in the end.

Yuuji raised his arms into the air, for some odd reason, like a person cheering or celebrating. Speaking of which — in this case, he would be celebrating his finally having gotten the hang of saying the word ‘valentine’. But he just looked so precious that you couldn’t even find the heart to tease him about it. Not even a little bit.

And if you were paying a little more attention to your surroundings, you would see that Sukuna was in the corner of the room, slowly and silently moving his lips as in a way to help Yuuji sound out the tough word.

“Thank you, Yuuji! — For all the gifts.” You scooped him up into your arms, peppering kisses all over his face. “I love you so, so much! Of course I’ll be your valentine. You are just too cute, aren’t ya?” You pinched his chubby cheek, eliciting a squeal from the boy. “Such an adorable little baby. I just want to put you in my pocket and take you everywhere with me.”

Yuuji nodded fervently, although he didn’t understand a thing you had just said.

All the while, Sukuna crossed his arms over his chest, huffing, before facing away from you two.

“Aww, are you mad that you're not my baby?” You turned your attention towards your boyfriend — who continued sulking — and so did his little brother, still snuggled in your arms.

“What the fu—what the heck? No.”

“That you’re not my honey bun?”

“Stop.”

“That you’re not my sweetie poo?”

“Oh my God.”

“That you’re not my—”

He cut you off, turning around and swiftly slapping a hand over your mouth so fast you didn’t even see it coming. But, what you were able to do was: lick a stripe up his hand covering your mouth.

“Eugh! You just always have to ruin my day, don’t you?” Sukuna grimaced, pulling back and wiping his wet hand on his hoodie. You let out a cheeky laugh in reply.

“I think that someone . . . is a little jealous. Don’t you agree, Yuuji?”

He nodded. “Mhm!”

“I am not jealous, matter of fact. You all are just stupid.”

“Stupid?” You raised a brow, wanting to see where Sukuna was going with this.

“Yeah. Valentine’s Day is for couples. Couples. Not friends. Not . . . not anyone else. So, Yuuji can’t be your valentine.” He smirked at the now frowning boy in your arms. “Sucks to suck.”

“We are a couple. A couple of fwends.” Yuuji nodded profusely.

“Doesn’t count.”

“Yuh huh!”

“Nuh uh.” Sukuna stuck out his tongue jokingly at his younger brother.

“My teacher told me that—that Valentine’s Day is for friends, too. She said it is also a day for fwendship.”

“Well, your teacher is stupid.”

Yuuji clawed at your arms, trying to escape in order to jump out at his brother. He was mad. Big mad.

“Yuuji, no. No fighting.”

“That’s right. Listen to your friend, Yuuji. Listen to your friend, who’s not your valentine.”

At this, Yuuji flew out of your arms and lunged at his brother, tackling him onto his back on the couch.

-

Moving on, it’s safe to say that the next day at school, Yuuji told all of his classmates that his valentine was an angel.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

[strangerstilinski]

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.7k

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: older!mechanic!eddie, fem!reader, use of 'girl' in reference to reader, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, bumbling/awkward/lovestruck eddie (as is typical for my writing lol), i think that's it but lmk if i missed anything

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

“-and anyway, all I’m saying is, you’re gonna get a lot more years outta your car if you bring it in to get an oil change every six months or so-”

It’s really not that you don’t care about what he has to say. Your lack of focus on his advice has entirely more to do with the way his thick fingers are curled around the pint of beer in front of him. The metal wrapped around the base several of his fingers clink softly every time the older man nervously drums them against the glass. All you can think about is those fingers in your hair, gripping the fat of your ass or your hips, stretching out your cunt in preparation for his cock.

Your stomach flips a little at the sight of his fingernails. Scrubbed clean of any of the oil or grime that had been wedged into his nail-beds when you’d first met a week ago at the auto body shop, the little patch sewn into his coveralls had blessed you with the name that you finally utter now.

“Eddie?” You interrupt sweetly, glossed lips pursing when his eyes snap to yours.

“Shit. Am I talking too much? I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” He rambles in distress, bringing ringed fingers up to scratch at the coarse stubble lining his jaw. “It’s just- When you asked me to get a drink, at first I kinda thought you were just angling for a discount on repairs, y’know? I mean, pretty thing like you? Actually wanting go out with this old mess? It seemed ridiculous, but- Well, now we’re here and you’ve already paid off the invoice for your car and I’m a little-”

“Eddie.”

His words cut off with a quiet clack as his teeth snap together, eyes searching your own in the dimly lit bar.

“I want you,” Your hand meets where his is wrapped around the sweaty pint glass, fingers hooking underneath his own as you guide your laced hands to rest on the sticky tabletop, “I.. really want you.” You repeat with a bit more emphasis, the words a little softer with vulnerability this time, a little more desperate.

“What, like-? Like right now?” Eddie is already looking around the bar with wide eyes before his gaze flicks back to you, question swimming in their brown depths, “Here?” He murmurs in quiet disbelief.

You give him a coy smile, long lashes blinking at him longingly, “Here.”

Eddie rises to his feet a bit clumsily, like perhaps his body was trying to respond to your words before his brain, “Shit. Fuck. Okay, sweetheart. If you’re sure, I mean. Uh, we.. We could.. Um-”

You're far too worked up to find his racing thoughts as endearing as you think that you normally would, “Eddie-”

He’s dragging you up from the other side of the booth in a flash, large hands falling to your waist as he begins to guide you through the desolate Tuesday night bar crowd with his chest pressed warmly to your spine.

“Just come with me, baby,” Eddie trips over a his own feet in his heavy boots and nearly takes you down with him, narrowly managing to keep his feet underneath himself as he tries to keep you from stumbling, “Shit, sorry-” He grumbles into your ear from behind, the huskiness of his voice and the warmth of his breath prompting a pleasant shiver up your spine.

Once the two of you have stumbled your way down the dark hallway at the back, you spin around to let your arms snake around his waist from behind. Eddie is fumbling with the sticky knob of the bathroom door, the hairs at the base of his tummy soft under your fingers and you can't help but dip your hand beneath his waistband where the hair spreads further.

“Sshit-” Eddie fumbles with the door when your fingertips just graze the base of his cock, the skin silky smooth under your palm as you push a little further so you can wrap your small hand around him, “Oh, you're a f-fucking.. menace, aren’t you? N-not so sweet after all.” He tells you, not an ounce of bite to his words, more of a groan of approval than anything.

Your only response is to press your lips to the side of his throat beneath his wild mane of curls, snapping a small nip of your teeth against the curve of his shoulder as you work your hand torturously slow on his cock.

Distracted by your touch, Eddie swings the door open with with a bit too much enthusiasm. He dives forward to catch it before it can collide with the dirty porcelain sink on the inside wall and only narrowly gets a hold of it in time.

As soon as the door is secured behind you again, you're dropping to your knees in front of him. Your mouth finds the soft pudge of his tummy, and metal and leather clink and slap beneath your quick hands as you work his belt and get his jeans open enough to tug out his cock. It springs up as it's released, half hard already and bobbing in front of you like it's taunting you for just how badly you want him. His cock is gorgeous — average length but thick and beautifully curved just a bit to the right.

You hungrily eye the tip where he's flushed dark pink, shiny and dribbling just the tiniest bit already, shining in the hazy light coming from the exposed lightbulb in the ceiling.

Eddie lets out a groan as you take him in your hand again and lick at his tip, savoring the small beads of precome that meet your tongue. You hum at the salty tang of them, dragging your mouth down the length of him, tracing the soft vein along the underside of his cock with your lips and tongue.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie moans, his hand finding it's way into your loose hair nearly immediately. He doesn’t pull, he doesn’t push, his hands are entirely too gentle. His fingertips pet soft at your head like he’s praising you already and you’ve hardly even started, “You.. Baby girl, you don't have to-”

You lean back from where you'd been swirling your tongue around the head, giving his length a couple of short tugs as you look up at him through your lashes with a huff, “Mm, and maybe I want to. You ever think of that?”

He balks, hips jerking minutely and incidentally thrusting his cock toward your pouting lips, “I.. Um-”

“Maybe I’m a young, confident woman who knows what she wants. And maybe I want to suck you off. Did that not cross your mind? Hm? That maybe I might like having your dick in my mouth?” You continue, voice dropping a few octaves.

A soft gasp turned groan falls from the older man’s lips when you lean back in to suck lightly at the tip and the sound has your thighs clenching together against the wave of arousal that curls in your tummy.

“Do you?” Eddie can’t help but ask, the question coming out a quiet groan, “Like it?”

“Mhm,” You hum around him, pushing further down his length to take in more of him, letting him feel the way your throat constricts around the head of his cock when you gag before pulling all the way off again, “Love it.”

“I just thought- Pretty thing like you shouldn’t have t- God. I, uh. You.. Shit. You’re certainly ohmygod- g-good at it.” He struggles to get his words out when you take him back between your lips, but then he’s huffing a quiet sigh of distress when you remove the warm heat of your mouth from his length once again.

“Good..?” You repeat in question.

“Wh- Huh?”

Eddie is blinking down at you dumbly, his hand flexing in your hair as he tries to clear his head. It's infuriatingly sexy.

“I’m on my knees for you in a dirty bar restroom and I’m ‘good’ at sucking your dick? It's.. ‘Good?’” You say the word with distaste, one eyebrow ticking up on your forehead in challenge as you place his tip back against your lower lip teasingly. You let it rest there, one hand coming up to his waist to keep his hips from jutting forward as you part your lips and let a warm breath wash over the wet head of this cock.

“Shit, sweetheart. Did I say good? I meant great! I, uh, phenomenal! M-mindblowing fuck-” He moans loud around the word when you reward him by taking him into your mouth again.

You let him rest heavy on your tongue, sucking and bobbing your head in slow drags while he sighs out a desperate little sound at the feeling.

“Fuck. You- You’re perfect, baby girl. You have to know that. An angel. Gotta know how much you’re- Ohh-”

The surprised groan that cuts him off has you soaked beneath your panties, moaning around his length in response.

“-How much you’re rockin’ my world right now.” He finishes weakly.

You pull off to give him an amused smile, jerking him in earnest with one hand and wiping spit from your lips with the other, “Oh, I rock your world, huh, old man?” You tease.

“God damn it,” Eddie breathes the words, dragging you up by your shoulders until you’re standing in front of him again, “You really are a little brat, aren’t you?”

But his mouth is on yours before you can respond, beer coated tongue breaking through the seam of your lips, a wide palm and fingers covered in cool rings encasing the back of your neck as he leads you just a few steps backward, until your spine is hitting the door.

Your keening moan is lost in the kiss, and as life-changing as his cock and fingers and mouth prove to be that evening, it’s his whispered words of praise and the sweet kisses he presses to your hair as he catches his breath at the end of it all that truly ruin you for anyone else.

As it turns out, the older mechanic who fixed up your car? Eddie? He’s kinda it for you.

[thebearer]

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!” 

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 

To: Carmen 

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 

So, Carmen did what he always did. 

From: Carmen 

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 

“What? Cousin, what are you-” 

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 

[quaranmine]

all this did was remind me how very mentally ill i've been about fw!scar since the very beginning

gonna embark on a re-read of IDL but specifically a scar-centric reading where i take notes on everything he says and does

[akirathedramaqueen]

Do you think this is the moment he fell in love?

Okie, it's time to shitpost speculate a bit on my favorite moment in the whole show: the end of the Truth Seekers episode.

Do you think this was the first time Blitzø was protected? Taken care of? Saved?

Just look at how in awe he is, eyes wide open, jaw dropped. I doubt we've ever seen a face like this before or after. Of course, it might also have something to do with seeing Stolas in his true form for the first time. It was eerie and terrifying, but also sublime and exalting. Oddly attractive even, maybe?

This owl demon, with eldritch ancient powers and two dozen legions, was there just for him. Stopped in his tracks of whatever royal deeds he was attending to and came to stand up for Blitzø, to scare the shit out of his... well, fuckbuddy's (or not really?) perpetrators. Stolas watched after him, knew he was in trouble! So he... cared?

I am going to repeat my starting statement - he is not used to being worried about. Here, Moxxie clearly prioritizes Millie (no blame here, it's completely valid!), and helps Blitzø to get up only after the latter sarcastically sneered, "Oh, yeah, thanks, I am fine!"

And Loona, at least until the Queen Bee episode, which happens later, was very hesitant to show even a grain of affection toward Blitzø. We know she cares, but it's not always enough to just have it in mind and not demonstrate it.

And here is Stolas, caressing Blitzø, asking if he is alright, calling him 'darling' - another first in their relationship, at least on screen. Look how confused he is for a moment; he looks away and up (defensive? scared? annoyed?) - has he ever been asked things like that before? Notice how his face relaxes after Stolas strokes his forehead. Our guy is tough, no doubt, but I bet he just realized how nice it is when there's someone who cares.

Hell knows, these five seconds are a single thread holding my mental health together after the shitshow in the Full Moon and Apology Tour episodes.

Of course, there's the second part where Stolas tones down the grandiosity of his gesture. He scolds the crew for not being careful and jeopardizing him along with them, implying that the book exchange should remain a secret. Then he negates it himself - luckily for them, demon-obsessed lunatics are not taken seriously in the human world.

I don't think this changes anything. The first thing he did was to ask if Blitzø is okay. Only after he was reassured Blitzø is fine did he begin to rant, and even then his concern addressed both the crew letting themselves into trouble and his own safety. Again, why wouldn't it be valid? However I look at it, I don't think the book is his primary interest here.

And is this the first time we see Blitzø blushing?

This blush! I bet my life that Mister Blitzø 'boring-as-fuck-monogamy' Buckzo hasn't even internalized it yet, but oh, did his heart just do a big somersault.

Listen to my voice: This is the moment he fell, even though he didn't know it himself yet. Poor boy has a lot of work to do to unlearn his coping mechanisms and let his walls down.

Thank you for coming to my sappy stand-up, don't forget your coats on your way out. *drops mic*

P.S. Oh, I lied to you. There's a bonus "Blitzø just fell so hard" face in the Seeing Stars episode, haha. Apparently Stolas's human form is just as hot as his true demonic one lol.

[gureumz]

project aphrodite

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

premise: in a post-apocalyptic world, you and jungwon are excellent scientists and are at the relative top of the list of people who are ideal parents for the next generation of this dying world. it's now your job to repopulate this earth so you ask your co-worker to pretty please knock you up.

notes: sci-fi elements, dystopian au, scientist!reader, scientist!jungwon, fem-bodied reader, reader is referred to as a woman, dom!jungwon, breeding, impreg kink (like heavily), dirty talk, platonic (?) breeding, co-workers with benefits (?), idk this is kinda speculative fiction but also suspend your disbelief a bit lol

a/n: first of my 1k follower special! not quite sure what order i'm following here but i hope you stay for the ride nonetheless! enjoy!

it's a strange feeling.

in your line of work, 'strange' is hardly any cause for concern. as a biologist with a concentration in genetics, you've seen all the ways nature does its job. from the familiar concepts almost all people learn about in science class like the basic 'mom-meets-dad-equals-baby' to the eerie methods organisms in the deep sea evolve to survive.

you've learned about it all, pored over each punnett square, stressed over the formulas. so, this shouldn't be anything to worry about.

and yet, you're still worried.

"i mean...what did we expect?" jay speaks up from beside you, eyeing the phone in his hand.

"we're presently some of the world's most brilliant minds so...," he adds, locking his phone before hunching over his desk. to your ears, it sounds as if he's trying to convince himself rather than you.

you scan over the document flashed on your own laptop screen. the harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz nonstop, going on and on, a background hum all of you in the bunker have grown used to. at this moment, it lulls you into a daydream, vision swimming as you repeat the words in your head.

all government personnel with a status level 7 and higher are recommended to partake in project aphrodite. those falling under level 10 are strictly required. participation at this level is compulsory.

common citizens with a status of 9 to 10 are also required to participate. ample compensation for those successful will be provided.

"you're a level 8. it's not as if you have to," you mutter, fingers digging into your temples.

jay snickers. "how many level 10 government personnel are there in this ruined world? a few hundred or so doctors, another few hundred scientists, even fewer world leaders. that's not taking into account the difference in sex. my information's not up to date but last time i checked, there is a hell of a lot more men than there are women. it's a shitshow waiting to happen."

you turn to meet jay's eyes, not meaning to convey any certain emotion, but the way jay's expression falls leads you to believe that you look way more upset than you're letting on.

"oh shit, yeah," jay curses. "you're a level 10. i forgot."

you sigh, tilting your head back against the headrest of your seat.

"i'm sure they'll release more regulation soon," you begin. "this is just the initial memo. with our world hanging in the balance as it is, no one's gonna let this devolve into some patriarchal anarchy, i hope."

"yeah, of course," you hear jay agree. "most of the proponents of project aphrodite are women, anyway, so i'm sure they'll take extra measures to keep you safe."

you sit up straight, looking at jay once more. "this is the world, huh?"

you and jay pause before sharing a quick chuckle.

"'go make babies, or else,'" you say in a mock radio announcer voice. jay lets out a laugh, his voice echoing off the empty office walls.

the two of you fall into silence, as if retreating to your respective thoughts. all that's in your mind at this moment is your current project, the very thing the few people more powerful than you had assigned for you to do: leading your team in stopping that godforsaken virus ravaging the outside. you've been making steady progress so far, but with the weight of this new responsibility, you're not sure if you could keep the momentum up.

you realize with a passing thought that most of the scientists on your team are level 9s and 10s.

"well," you begin before you could stop yourself. you're suddenly overcome with a feeling of suffocation, the office space seemingly too small and continuously growing even smaller.

"i hope you find someone you'd like to procreate with," you say lightly, pushing yourself off your chair. you quickly gather your things: folders and binders and other loose papers in your arms.

you catch jay looking at you, a pensive look on his face. you stop as you're grabbing your reusable coffee jug.

"no," you deadpan. "not me."

jay's eyes widen, as if realizing he'd said something without really saying anything.

"i—no, wait—i mean...," jay stutters, ears quickly turning red.

you smile, patting jay's shoulder reassuringly. "in case you were thinking about it."

jay's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and you can't help but laugh.

"these are desperate times, but i'm hoping it's not too desperate," you add. without waiting for a response, you turn towards the door, already making your way to it.

"besides, dr. isa lee seems more your type," you say over your shoulder one last time before pushing the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

---

"hey."

you look up from the microscope, tearing your attention away from the specimen you were examining. your eyes readjust to their normal focal length as a tall figure enters the lab, perfectly crisp white coat hanging off his broad shoulders, thin-wired spectacles resting on the bridge of his tall, straight nose. your lips feel strangely parched as he makes direct eye contact with you and you're left with no choice but to moisten them with your tongue.

"oh hi, dr. yang."

the other scientist chuckles, setting down a stack of papers on a desk in the corner. "i've been here for three weeks. please, call me jungwon."

you swallow. "right. jungwon."

dr. jungwon yang was a new import from the seoul bunker, having come to your own area's bunker merely a few weeks prior. he was immediately put under your supervision, an addition to your already elite team of biologists, geneticists, and virologists. off the bat, you could tell he was a man of many talents, coming up with unconventional solutions and arriving at answers quicker than anyone else.

his presence in your lab made your heart swell. in pride, adoration, or desire, you're not quite sure.

"uh, yesterday's results are in that binder over there, in case you want to go over them," you begin. jungwon walks over to your side of the long table, peering over the slide loaded into the microscope.

ignoring the way he brushes ever so slightly against you, you continue. "the director's dropping by later this afternoon, but i wouldn't be too bothered with that. he's just looking for someone to blame for the slow progress at this point. if only they could get us those materials we asked for..."

"have you read the memo?" jungwon asks abruptly, straightening up. he towers over you, his eyes downcast as he stares at your face.

"of course, you've read the memo," jungwon corrects himself, chuckling. "what i meant was...what do you think of it?"

"it's a government-issued memo, it hardly matters what i think," you respond, focusing back on your work in front of you, although all you do is stare blankly at the moving microorganisms, mind unfocused with how much of jungwon's perfume you can smell.

"it's your reproductive health that's on the line. i'm pretty sure your opinion counts for something," jungwon says with a pinch in between his eyebrows.

oh, a feminist. that's even hotter.

"okay, yeah. i appreciate the new guidelines they put out," you admit, looking back up at jungwon. "though it's the bare minimum, i'm glad they're letting us keep the autonomy of choosing who to...boink."

jungwon laughs at that.

"and free fertility drugs for anyone who wants or needs it. oh, also, thank god they didn't have the brilliant idea of putting a time limit on it. having read some crazy speculative fiction myself, the things people are willing to do in fiction are crazy. who's to say they can't do the same in real life?" you continue.

you don't notice the way jungwon's smirk grows as he listens.

"kind of makes the whole thing unsexy, don't you think?" jungwon cuts in, raising an eyebrow. you blink, unsure of what he's talking about.

"i'm surprised they're not monitoring us with cameras and hooking us up to EKGs and shit," he adds.

"oh," you say with a soft giggle, finally catching on. "i'm sure some people are into being watched."

"are you?" jungwon asks.

"am i what?" you answer.

"into being watched."

a pause.

you shake your head. "how about you?"

"oh no," jungwon says. "i prefer to keep what's mine for my eyes only."

"hm. possessive. that's kind of sexy," you mumble under your breath, a sudden surge of confidence coursing through you.

jungwon just stares at you, but you can see his pupils dance in amusement, taking in your whole face and all your features. you might have imagined it but he seemed to have peeked down at your chest for a second.

"do you think it's attractive for someone to be into lego-building? or at least, used to be into it. i'd give an arm and a leg for a complete lego set nowadays," jungwon asks, leaning against the table, and only now do you notice the veins running over the back of his hands.

you think about whether his arms are just as veiny.

"do you think it's a good trait to pass on an offspring? lego-building, i mean," he presses on.

"uh, yeah. good problem-solving skills," you answer, humoring his question.

jungwon nods. "do you think leadership skills are important?"

you smile, leaning against the cabinet opposite jungwon. you nudge his foot lightly. "i lead a team of scientists myself. of course, i think leadership skills are important."

"you and i both," jungwon agrees.

jungwon shifts, placing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"how about dimples? do you think dimples are cute?" jungwon asks once more, one corner of his mouth upturned. a deep crease on his cheek appears.

a dimple.

"very," you admit.

"i see."

there's a silence that stretches over the two of you, and the weight of uncertainty is daunting as you stare at a spot on jungwon's tie. finally, after a few seconds, you heave a sigh, unable to take the tension any longer.

"this is the weirdest way anyone has ever flirted with me," you declare, looking up at jungwon through your lashes. he's grinning and you nearly shiver at how utterly attractive you're finding him at this moment.

"but it's effective," jungwon says. that was a statement, not a question.

you tilt your head to the side. "how do you know?"

"because you would have blown me off two minutes ago if it wasn't," jungwon reasons, crossing his arms. by doing this, he just made himself appear even wider than he is.

"always so calculated," you say, impressed.

you stretch your neck, easing your head from side to side, watching as jungwon fixes his gaze on the taut tendons of your neck. "are you also this precise in bed, dr. yang?"

jungwon approaches, a large hand resting on your hip. "that's for you to find out."

your breath hitches as you feel his thumb rub through the fabric of your skirt.

"later?" he asks.

"my place or yours?" you reply, fingertips grazing the front of his polo. you can just about feel the slope and ridges of his toned muscles.

"i'd like to be a gentleman, so mine," jungwon offers. "i'll walk you back to your room after."

"i was kind of hoping i wouldn't need to walk back after," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice.

"is that a challenge?" jungwon says, his other hand pressing firmly on your lower back. he pulls you to him and your hands involuntarily reach out towards his shoulders to steady yourself.

a few seconds pass before any of you speak again.

"that's for you to find out," you say.

---

"kind of weird, isn't it?" jungwon asks, panting against your neck.

your back is pressed firmly against one wall of his sleeping quarters, a wide, loft-like room, similar to yours. a luxury offered only to level 10 government personnel, the room gives its occupants enough space and enough privacy.

and boy, did you need privacy.

"what's weird?" you say breathily, fingers threading through jungwon's hair as he kisses down the column of your neck. his fingers nimbly undo the buttons of your blouse and you whimper when you feel him lick at the valley between your breasts.

"coming up to coworkers or friends then asking them to reproduce with you," jungwon responds, tugging your blouse off of your shoulders.

(you both held enough respect for the institution that employed you both, so your work lab coats were neatly thrown over the back of jungwon's couch before anything got too frisky.)

"see, it's the way you say it that makes it weird," you giggle. you pull jungwon back up to your face, kissing him fervently, tongue licking into his mouth.

"oh yeah? how would you say it?" jungwon challenges as he pulls away slightly, his nose grazing your cheek. he licks a stripe on the underside of your jaw.

"please, jungwon," you whimper, playing up the whine in your voice just a little bit. "need you to knock me up. make me pregnant, please."

jungwon grunts in your ear, reaching behind you to rip the zipper of your skirt down. you let the fabric fall to the floor, stepping out of it quickly, revealing the matching red lace panties you had in tandem with your bra.

"yeah? want me to cum inside you so many times that there won't even be the tiniest chance that you're not pregnant?" jungwon says lowly, kneading one of your boobs in his hands.

you nod, hooking a leg around jungwon's hip, pushing your core right up against the bulge in his pants.

"yes," you breathe out, dragging your clothed pussy over his straining cock. "let's be good citizens and have a whole bunch of kids, yeah?"

jungwon chuckles, hands hurriedly working on his belt. you take this time to kiss up his neck, still rutting against him, desperate for any contact.

"come here," jungwon says through gritted teeth as his pants and boxers fall to the floor. he kicks them off unceremoniously, yanking you towards the couch. your eyes briefly catch the flash of white that were your lab coats.

the two of you fall onto the cushiony surface, with jungwon sitting up and you falling a little less gracefully on him. the two of you laugh as you adjust yourself, righting your posture so you could look at jungwon.

"take this off," jungwon commands, pulling at your panties. you swing off jungwon for a moment, pulling off the garment in record time. you reposition yourself over jungwon, his cock standing tall, hard, and painfully red.

"come on, show me how bad you want those kids," jungwon teases, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you roll your eyes. "you gotta help with the diapers."

a second later, you sink down on jungwon, moaning wantonly at how much he stretches you out, filling you up effortlessly. jungwon throws his head back, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

"i'll quit my fucking job at the lab if this is how good it feels to make babies with you," jungwon groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

you whimper at his words, rocking back and forth on his lap. you angle your hips a certain way, the tip of his cock kissing at just the perfect spot inside you. you shudder, repeating your movement.

"god, you feel amazing," jungwon praises. "so warm, so tight."

"yeah," you respond. you're gliding up and down his cock, swiveling your hips as fast as you can. you clench down around him, the thought of jungwon cumming inside you your only motivation.

"filling me up so good," you add, watching as jungwon screws his eyes shut, neck shiny with sweat.

you move forward, attaching your lips just below jungwon's ear. you suckle on the salty skin, running your tongue over the spot, savoring the way jungwon lets a moan rip out of him.

"gotta let the whole bunker know this one's mine," you whisper as you let up on jungwon's neck. a faint red spot is left in the wake of your lips on his skin.

in a blink of an eye, your whole world tumbles upside down, jungwon's hands forcing you down on the couch by your waist. in a daze, you realize that jungwon has you pinned under him, his eyes wild with a hungry look in them. he pushes your legs right up against your chest, lining himself up with your entrance.

"the moment you start showing, no one in this goddamn bunker will have a single doubt who gave you that baby," jungwon counters, thrusting into you. he gives you no time to adjust, picking up where you left off.

you cry out, trying to anchor yourself on anything your hands can find. eventually, you find purchase in jungwon's shoulders. he feels your nails digging in, and he mutters a soft 'fuck', speeding up his movements, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours so incredibly obscene in the confined space of his room.

"give it to me, please," you say, meeting jungwon's eyes as he continues to fuck into you. his forehead is creased, a look of concentration washing over his face.

"cum inside, fill me up as many times as you want, fuck it deep in me," you continue, cradling jungwon's face in your hands, the tender gesture a contrast to how rough he's bein.

"god," jungwon groans, voice breaking at the end as he speeds up, but then he halts abruptly, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. you feel him twitch inside you and you gasp, clenching down as hard as you can.

"fuck, yes, milk it all out," jungwon says. he starts to thrust up into you again, watching as his cock is slowly coated with his cum spreading all over your cushy walls.

you whine, your fingers finding their way down to your cunt, your middle and ring finger pressing onto your clit. you rub at it ferociously, the idea of jungwon's sticky release inside of you turning you on impossibly.

"i'm getting hard again, jesus christ," jungwon complains but his movements don't cease. he's shaking from the overstimulation but he wraps his arms around you, pulling your limp form up against him.

"rub that pretty pussy for me, babe," jungwon requests, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"make yourself cum while i fill you up for a second time."

---

"so?"

you jump a little at the sudden intrusion. you look up at jungwon through both of your reflections in your bathroom mirror. three pregnancy tests lie in a neat line on the edge of the sink.

"i just started the timer, jungwon," you reply with a laugh. jungwon turns you around to face him, kissing you briefly.

"hm," you say, looking up at jungwon questioningly. "you never kiss me unless you want something."

"well," jungwon begins, hands slipping under your sweater. "we can always kill time while we wait for the results."

you shake your head, but you're already pressing yourself up against jungwon. "you're insatiable, dr. yang."

jungwon winks at you, undoing your bra under your shirt. "you know it."

"plus, you just look too good in this damn lab coat."

[o-sachi]

Dress to Impress Headcanons ‧₊˚ ⋅ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ what's it like to play the roblox game dress to impress with the blue lock boys?

ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, michael kaiser, alexis ness, shidou ryusei, nagi seishirou, reo mikage, Chigiri Hyoma

ଳ tags; crack, some profanity lol, gn reader, no y/n, can be established rs or not

[🐟]: Let me know if you want more characters to this hehe ~

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi

"How do you change the skin? Where's the hair? Why do the others have faces?"

He's so lost... poor baby. Expect a lot of questions (some of which get repeated) from him about how the game works. He's going to be overwhelmed with the buttons and stuff around his character.

You think 5 minutes is more than enough to put together an outfit, but somehow Isagi comes out of the runway without hair or with a bunch of clothes layered on top of each other.

He also asks how you do the poses on the runway.

"Hey, what's pose 28?"

HE RATES SUPER HIGH, so you're over there pouting 'cuz he's helping these 10 year old children win.

"This one's really nice. She's got a big bow on her head." / "But the theme is sad day, Yoichi..." / "And? Won't a big bow make it a happy one?"

Gets a bit sad 'cuz he gets rated low even if he rated all the others with 4 or 5 stars. Awww...

ᯓ Bachira Meguru

"I CAN MAKE MY SKIN GREEN? HOLY SHI-"

Expect that he will always use the most blinding colors known to man. He's gonna walk out on that runway looking like a traffic light.

He's so noisy when he plays. It's like he's commentating everything that's happening to him as if he has a whole stream going on. But in reality, it's just the two of you.

Spams pose 28 because all of the other cool ones aren't free.

Says "slay" every time he walks out because you said it once to him.

"HELL YEAH THAT'S A SLAAAY."

But if he's on a losing streak, he'll suddenly go quiet and focus more lol.

"Why are you quiet all of a sudden?" / "Shhh, don't interrupt my creative juices."

ᯓ Michael Kaiser

"What? Are you playing this game with your eyes closed or something?"

He said that. On voice chat. To a little girl. Who cried.

You had to reprimand him and tell him to apologize to the girl. But with his pride, he only allowed himself to rate her 5 stars the next round as his way of saying sorry.

"There. 5 stars... for the most clown outfit I've ever seen." / "Mihya!"

So mean to everyone else, but will always compliment your outfit even the ones you barely put effort in. You're starting to wonder whether or not it was condescending or heartfelt...

"That outfit looks great. We should duo in the next round." / "No, everyone in the server's mad at you and it'll affect my rating too."

He never makes it to the top 3 despite the good outfits he puts together because he talks shit on everyone in the server.

ᯓ Alexis Ness

"I got all the new codes; let me type them for you."

HE'S SUPER GOOD AT IT? It's to the point that you're jealous because his rank's way higher than yours.

"Just type M3RM4ID in that box." / "It's not working." / "Did you type the E as a 3 and the A as a 4?" / "What?" / "Never mind, gimme your Ipad."

He definitely knows all the codes that unlocks the hidden special items of the game. Plus, he's super into the lore as well. The nail technician? You bet he's going to talk about her extensive lore.

Super efficient when putting together an outfit. He's got a whole routine down to a T.

He actually rates outfits objectively—not too low and never too high.

ᯓ Shidou Ryusei

"HAHAHA WHAT'S UP WITH THAT WHACK ASS OUTFIT? #############"

He has also made a kid cry before. But unlike Kaiser, he doesn't listen to you and doubles down on it. Just an absolute menace all around.

He's definitely muted by the other people in the server because regardless of what he says, no one is responding to him. So there's only you left to talk to him.

Doesn't even try to put together a decent outfit. You're not even sure if he reads the theme at all because he walks out on the runway looking like the personification of a fever dream.

"Haha look. This pose makes it look like I'm thrusting in the air." / "Ryu! Oh my gosh..."

Definitely has been banned from Roblox before and he's using a new account to play with you.

Everything he types just shows up as hashtags at this point...

ᯓ Nagi Seishirou

"This theme is such a hassle... when is it going to be the pajama party theme?"

He already plays Roblox to begin with, but he needed extra convincing from you to play Dress to Impress because he didn't see the thrill in it.

He was only convinced when he saw you rage quitting after losing with such a fabulous outfit. He realized the competitive aspect of it and decided to play with you.

Nagi doesn't realize it but his rotation consists of the same tops and bottoms, so his outfits always come out looking the same. This leads him to losing all the time.

He definitely complains when the runway has too many players. Like... when is it going to end?

"Sei! Did you just tell the kids in the server to leave? What the hell?" / "Yah. They were making the line too long and I don't wanna wait."

Also complains when he doesn't show up in the top 3 even though he didn't really put any effort into his outfit.

ᯓ Reo Mikage

"Hey, babe, look. I bought the VIP. Want me to buy it for you too?"

HE'S SO PAY TO WIN. He's a VIP player, has all the pose packs, and literally everything you can buy in the game. He's not shy about flaunting it to the other players in the lobby.

He'll spend the first minute in the VIP area then walk all smug in the cOmMoNeR's area wearing the biggest fuck-you dress ever.

If the theme is anything normal, he'll still manage to make the outfit look high-end.

Trust that he'll spam all the expensive poses once he's on the runway. The little rascal would be smirking to himself as he presses the different poses.

Reo grumbles to himself when he loses. He can't help but be annoyed when he gets only a few stars while literally wearing a dress that costs thousands of robux.

"I was literally wearing the biggest ball gown and I still lost? What the fuck."

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I gave you 5 stars. Yeah, for sure... for sure."

SUPER COMPETITIVE! Not even you are safe from aggressive dressing and impressing.

You two will be in duos, but he'll always one up you.

"Hmm... interesting choice of colors." / "Is it that bad?" / "Bad? What do you mean? It's great. I promise."

He won't be talking shit on anyone, but you can tell what's running through his head with that smug look on his face.

"What's up with that look? / "Hm? Oh... haha. I'm just enjoying the game you know? / "..."

Will refuse to choose any other hair that doesn't resemble his own. It doesn't matter if the theme requires a different color. He will be using his red/pink hair and no one will stop him.

tag list; @meowkages , @shidousprincess

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

o-sachi © 2024

[prettyboykatsuki]

I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU

✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+

✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)

✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you

so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.

✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.

Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way. 

He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables. 

He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible. 

It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business. 

And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.

It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little. 

That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go 

You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent  learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person. 

So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you. 

And also because the sheer  magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed. 

He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous. 

Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.

It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.

It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.

You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top. 

Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.

There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love. 

And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other. 

“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.” 

After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.

Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma. 

Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly. 

And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.

Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.

So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in. 

The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you. 

Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really.  He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.

But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely. 

He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments. 

“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”

He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort. 

“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”

You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch. 

“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”

Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.

“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.” 

“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”

He feels unsteady but so happy. 

“Thank you, my love.”

“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”

The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck. 

“The bed…?”

You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.

“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”

“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice. 

You tilt your head to one side, leaning  back on your palms. 

“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.” 

He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“

“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.

“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it. 

“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”

He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle. 

“Well, what do you want?”

“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”

“So romantic.”

“Right? So get up here.” 

He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy  before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement. 

“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.

“Yeah. Smells like you,” 

“So cute.” 

“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger. 

“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?” 

“Yeah. Yes.” 

“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.” 

“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.” 

“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”

He flushes slightly. 

“Force of habit. My point stands.” 

“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.” 

He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin. 

“Kiss me.” 

He looks at you apologetically. 

“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.” 

“Okay, but it can lead to them.” 

“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“Wait, no.” 

“Then kiss me.” 

He sighs. 

“Just kissing, okay?” 

“Okay, you monk.” 

He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy. 

He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light. 

“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears. 

“We are just kissing though?” 

“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of. 

“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.” 

“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin. 

“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?” 

Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look  in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least. 

“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly. 

“Yeah? Then why can’t we?” 

“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.” 

“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?” 

“What if it gets all messed up?” 

“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.” 

He groans at your vulgarity before laughing. 

“I’m being serious!” 

“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.” 

He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly. 

“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.” 

He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression. 

“You’re being unfair.”  

“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.” 

He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one. 

Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough. 

Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you. 

“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in. 

“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”

“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”  

“Doing what?”

Oh. This is… 

Oh.

“I’ve never seen you naked.”

“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.” 

“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”

You stare at him. You’re so cheeky. 

“You wanna?”

“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”

A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything. 

The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.

He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head. 

“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.” 

That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress. 

Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders? 

In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”

And your reply is about all the permission he needs. 

“Then take me,” 

Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other. 

You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other. 

He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you. 

He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind. 

“That feel good, Yuta?” 

“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.” 

You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much. 

But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder. 

“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?” 

Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.

Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next -  you put your legs up to slide them off. 

There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.

 Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you. 

Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide. 

“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you. 

“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you. 

“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”  

You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you. 

His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.

“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,” 

“You’re pretty too, Yuta.” 

He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.

 He wants to shatter you completely. 

He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it. 

He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.

He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation. 

Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you. 

Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and  not enough at the same time.  It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky. 

He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful. 

“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,” 

He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away. 

“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,” 

You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again. 

“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,” 

The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering. 

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.”  And you laugh again even louder. 

“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.”  You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again. 

He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks. 

“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”

“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”

“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded. 

“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.” 

“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,” 

The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight. 

He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence. 

If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind. 

He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs. 

He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them. 

You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him. 

“O-oh, Yuta.” 

He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him. 

“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,” 

A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking. 

He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace. 

And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding. 

“Don’t t-tease so much,”  You pant. 

Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another. 

He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside. 

Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him. 

Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath. 

Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third. 

You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss. 

“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.” 

He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”

You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself. 

“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?” 

“Treat me?” 

“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?” 

“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?” 

You smile at him. 

“Lay on your back, sweet boy.” 

Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to. 

You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up. 

Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long. 

You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him. 

“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?” 

Yuta just swallows. 

Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy. 

“Want me to go slower?” 

“Please be nice.” 

You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this. 

He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got. 

Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up. 

“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?” 

Yuta groans. 

“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago. 

It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you. 

When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs. 

“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh. 

“I love you too, Yuta.” 

__ 

After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets. 

Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest. 

“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?” 

Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression. 

“Yeah. Yeah it was.”