#he’s up with me clinging to me from behind sleepy eyes half open and his head is nuzzled in the crook of my neck

[gojoest]

it’s 5am and i can’t sleep bc i am fantasizing about making satoru grilled cheese and tomato soup, this is how dire the situation’s gotten

[suguann]

✎. you've been on the run for a while. you knew someone would come eventually—but not him.

tags. fem!reader, old west era, bounty hunter simon, size difference, size kink, implied the reader's husband is a terrible human, accidental voyeurism, period-typical sexism, masturbation [18+ only]

masterlist

You’ve been running for months, first from your husband (the phantom grip of his hand still sending an ache through your wrist) and now as a wanted conwoman for stealing the clothes from an unsuspecting cowpoke who thought he was getting lucky. You can only imagine what Mama would say about trading your ruffled skirts for grass-stained trousers and boiled-leather suspenders.

(It’s unbecoming of a respectable woman, dear. Uncouth.)

She’d probably have a lot to say if she knew everything you’ve done to survive.

You hop from one place to the next only by the mere chance someone was willing to let a helpless woman accompany them on their travels. Nearly a month has passed since being stranded in a dusty old mining town after a man and his wife dump you off and leave you behind. Washoe’s a little gritty and not welcoming unless there’s money to spend.

It’s not exactly safe, not unsafe, either, but nobody asks questions as long as you keep your head down and play the part of a mourning widow just passing through.

You know you’ve overextended your stay when you can’t leave your room during the day without worrying about a noose and the open end of a barrel meeting you outside. 

(That your husband or that gun-waving cowpoke finally found you.)

Sleep practically clings to you like a second skin, but you don’t dare close your eyes—you can’t.

This is how you end up sitting in the corner of the saloon, using the last of whatever you have in your change purse to order something strong, something your husband kept locked away, and anything else he thought women shouldn’t have a part in. 

You don’t even realize that your eyelids begin to feel heavy, steadily blurring out the flickering lantern on the wall while you wait for your drink. 

You catch yourself once or twice before your head can hit the table, rapidly blinking away the exhaustion before your eyes slide to the swinging doors.

You should stay awake. 

You need to stay awake just a little bit longer—

Your luck runs out that day. 

It’s one thing to know it’d happen eventually, and something else to realize that you make it easy for him—the man with an infamous name and a faded black bandana covering half his face—how he walked into the saloon and scooped you up (all unladylike sleepy dead weight) out of the weathered booth without a fight.

When you’d woken up to find yourself trussed up and thrown over the back of his horse, you cursed him out with every word you could think of that would make Mama clutch her skirts. Your captor ignored you, only talking to you whenever he warned you he was about to set up camp. 

“Did my husband send you?” Acknowledging him after all this time tasted like pennies on your tongue.

The man, Simon Riley, had leaned back against his bedroll and tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

That was several weeks ago. 

Now, you find yourself stranded in another state that’s more green and vibrant than anything you’re familiar with, stuck with a man who refuses to answer the questions you throw at him. He doesn’t talk outside a few cursory words you greedily latch onto. Anything’s better than silence and the sound of hooves hitting earth. 

The pace he keeps you at is exhausting. You complain about it enough until he moves you in front of him, tying your hands to the saddle's horn.

“I would strongly advise you to shut that mouth for the rest of the ride unless you want me to do something about that, too.” The low growl of his voice in your ear makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up, muddling your brain.

You’re distantly aware you had something to say to that, but you don’t. 

And that is really saying something.

It’s because there’s someone he needs to meet in town—an errand that lawbreakers who run their mouths aren’t allowed to go on.

This is how you end up sitting in camp alone, twirling around a knife he gave you solely for emergencies. 

(Surprise, sharp and quick through your middle, when he tosses his pocket knife into the grass beside you. “What’s to stop me from leaving?”

You could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. “Will you?”

It doesn’t seem worth dignifying with a reply. You don’t want to travel alone, and there’s a high possibility of getting lost, finding yourself saddled up with worse company than the one you’re stuck with.

Until he evidently catches you again.)

He’s a lot nicer than you first gave him credit for—if only by a fraction—not that you know much about Simon other than what you overheard from gossip circles before you became Mrs. Thornton. Afternoons spent sipping tea laden with honey and lounging around a table full of cakes in the sun parlor while wealthy women talked behind their lace-covered hands to hide secret smiles you were too naive to understand. 

Trying not to stare at the bulge of his arms with thin pink scars—unlike the men you’re used to who got through life with a silver spoon hanging from their mouth—as he places his saddle back on his horse, you think you finally know what they smiled about.

You learn those scars also litter his torso from the time you accidentally walked upon him mid-way through putting his trousers on after washing in the river. It’d been too dark for you to see much else, and you quickly returned to camp before he could say something that would embarrass you both. 

Then, of course, tucked away into your bedroll, you can’t help wondering what the rest of him would have looked like if you had stayed a second longer. 

If his jaw is sharp or soft behind that mask he insists on wearing—that’s if he’d let you see at all. 

Simon’s always so serious that it’s often hard to determine whether he’s merely tolerating your existence until he can get rid of you or if he’s unused to traveling accompanied for so long. It’s not as if he goes out of his way to make pleasant conversation with you for you to assume otherwise.

You look off in the direction where he disappeared into the dense line of trees hours ago, wondering if you should go out looking for him (mainly because you’re hot and sticky from the humidity) despite his order to stay put. 

But after four hours turns into five, you head off, searching for something to help cool you off.

Luckily, unlike the heavily eroded lands you’re used to, there isn’t any water shortage in a place that sees rain three times a day, so it doesn’t take long to find a lake. You set your knife down on the stone-covered beach, followed by your boots, until you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 

The water is icy cold and laps gently at your feet when you step in. You can’t find it in you to complain as the heat from the day slowly washes away the further you walk in and find a wide ledge to sit on. 

Your thoughts drift back to Simon, incessant and intruding even though you shouldn’t be thinking about him while wet and naked. And suddenly, you can picture it: his hands replacing yours as they trace along your neck. You have a feeling they’re probably rough and scarred from years of living hard and gunslinging, extracting the readily available knowledge that they’re big enough to encase your waist.

He could maneuver you around however he wants (you know this), and you feel dizzy just thinking about it.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the water while your hands smooth over the tips of your breasts and down your stomach. 

You wish you could see him without violating whatever personal preservations hide him from the rest of the world. Instead, you’re left with your imagination—the benefits of being a married woman and the little experience you have in the bedroom finally coming into play. 

Closing your eyes, you picture what he might look like under those sun-weathered leathers, knowing that the broadness of his shoulders isn’t only due to his vest and holsters but also from how his job has shaped him.

Your hands travel lower, fingers brushing through the creamy, soft wetness between your legs, evidence of what Simon does to you even when he’s not around. A moan, too high and breathy, slips past your lips as you use your middle finger to circle your clit in slow, clumsy swirls from lack of practice and patience that spreads warmth through your middle despite the cold water. 

It’s good, your fingers discovering places your husband always ignored—too many nights spent with your hand under your nightgown long after he’d tucked his cock away and gone to sleep—but probably don’t compare to the ones you’ve caught yourself staring at far too many times. 

They don’t fill you nearly enough, unlike how you know Simon’s would—thick and unrelenting. Rough and long, reaching deep enough to make you breathless.

Your breath hitches from pinching the tight, sensitive peak of your nipple until you feel a slight sting, and then it slips out, a tiny thing that’s only audible to your ears—Simon—a secret you now share with the lightning bugs and crickets.

“Dirty, no good rotten—” he’d tell you for thinking such lewd thoughts about him, for sinning so easily. Maybe you are, for getting so worked up over a man who isn’t your husband (no matter how terrible a husband he may be).

A man who’s so big that he makes you feel small, the type that gives before he takes. It’s enough to make you work your hand faster—your body vibrating from the chill of the water and the ache between your trembling thighs.  

Fantasies aren’t enough to sate the deep longing in your chest. Yet you’re slipping over the edge of ecstasy before taking your next breath—all of it builds up and gradually crests inside you like the lake rippling against the shore.

Afterward, it leaves you feeling soft and blurred around the edges, a watercolor painting drying under the sun while you wait for your rapid heartbeat to slow.

You don’t realize your eyes have fallen shut until they flutter open, and you’re startled to find Simon standing at the shoreline, his chest heaving as if he ran here. 

(Though he probably did to see if you took the opportunity to leave.)

You’re glued to your spot on the rock, suddenly struck with the mortifying realization that he’d seen you come—that he possibly heard you cry out his name so intimately.

You watch him remove his hat and hang it on a branch with wide eyes. Followed by his undershirt, guns, and—

He keeps removing clothes until he’s completely naked on the shore—aside from his face that stays hidden—scars marred his chest, spreading to his collarbones and below the water as he steps into the lake and sits on another ledge across from you.

His mask makes him look more menacing, erasing any trace of softness there. And you wonder if he’s angry at you for wandering off.

"Come here." His voice is low and deep, rumbling in his chest.

You don't think he'd hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

At least, that’s what you’re going with to settle the nervous fluttering in your middle.

Water laps at your arms as you wade through the water, each shaky step bringing you closer until you stop before him.

"In my lap."

Your breath sticks in your throat as you do as he says, settling down onto his sturdy thighs, palms falling flat against his broad chest. That same breath comes out in one large exhale as his fingers slide along your jaw, to the nape of your neck, curling into your hair, wet and falling around your shoulders.

“Like this?” you ask, trying to ignore how breathy you sound.

He grunts, apparently in confirmation.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so conflicted in your life—fear and arousal turning into a messy cocktail in your veins.

“Why do I always have to use a heavy hand to make you listen?”

Your lips part. Breath growing short. “I’m sorry.”

And then—

Simon pulls your head back sharply, exposing your throat.

Your body goes slack against his. Mind blissfully blank.

“No,” he says, tone flat. “But you will be.”

[lenoraslament]

Slytherin Boys React: How They Would Overstimulate You

I’ve been gone for too long, so I decided to write the dirtiest post I’ve ever written (for Tumblr at least)

Warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, smut, degradation, oral (m+f receiving), piv, voyuerism, fingering, overstimulation, toxic, cnc, fingering, slapping, smut with no plot, pain, praising, begging.

Mattheo Riddle: Fucking You Past Your Limit

“Hold your legs for me yea?” Mattheo asks, but you know by the tone of his voice that he’s really telling you to. You sigh softly and hold the backs of your knees as your legs tremble.

“Just like that,” he grins as he pushes forward bottoming you out immediately. The gasp leaving your wide open mouth is his reward. His hands press into the bed beside your face trapping you under him as he thrusts deeply. At least this position lets your body rest. Tonight, he’s already had you bent over his desk, standing by the wall with your leg hitched up onto his waist, and sitting on his dick with your legs dangling over the edge of the bed as you felt the full length of him threatening to break you.

He groans and curses as he jackhammers his way into you relentlessly. Your mouth is an endless string of moans and cries. When he feels you tense around him as you come, he finally rolls off and lays beside you on the bed.

“Get on top” he says tapping your leg urgently.

“You have got to be kidding” you whine breathlessly.

He takes your hand and places it on his still hard cock, “Does it feel like I’m kidding?”

Theodore Nott: Fucking Your Mouth

Another tear rolls down your cheek as you gag. Theo’s hand wraps tightly in your hair tugging you off his cock. Your lips drip with your own thick saliva mixing with tears. Your eyes look up at him blinking back water, wondering if he’s finally done.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry for me bella” he mutters in a low voice. His sleepy eyes don’t seem concerned that your jaw is aching, that he’s been using your mouth for nearly thirty minutes. Your mascara isn’t even under your eyes anymore, the muddy tracks are dripping under your chin.

“Just a little longer” he says as you gag again his thickness filling your mouth mercilessly. His hips thrust forward as he keeps your face in a vice like grip using you like his own personal toy. When he finally comes in your mouth, you’re so relieved it’s over. He whispers dirty praise making you feel proud of yourself. You’re even grateful to swallow.

Lorenzo Berkshire: Going Down on You

It felt amazing. An hour ago. Now Enzo’s hands have to keep your thighs from pressing back together around his ears. His tongue circles your clit, then flicks on the nub as you gasp and whine.

“Please baby…I can’t,” you whimper but he only laps and slurps greedily as she feel the coil inside of you threatening to snap again.

“Yes you can” he says in a low voice. You whine again as he flutters his tongue,.

“Oh God you taste so sweet,” he mumbles as his tongue plunges into your hole for a moment before continuing its assault on your bundle of nerves.

Your hips roll forward and he pins them down as your body nearly folds in half from another panting climax. Enzo’s mouth hungrily devouring your orgasm as he eats you through it.

Draco Malfoy: Making You Watch Yourself

“Look at how beautiful you are” Draco whispered in your ear. You can hardly stand anymore much less open your eyes and look in the mirror. When you finally do, you are a mess. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted, your hair is clinging to your forehead that is getting damp with sweat.

Draco stands behind you, one hand on your breast the cool rings of his fingers soothing your burning skin. The other hand delicately rubs your clit so softly and constantly. He buries his cock into you again as you whimper, his lips brushing kisses on your neck and shoulder. The maddening sensation hurling you to the edge, his lips curled up in a smirk in the mirror.

Your third orgasm rips through you as you shudder, your eyes rolling back obstructing your view of yourself again. That’s okay. Draco rolls your nipple between his fingers reminding you to snap your eyes open as you watch him take you over and over again.

Blaise Zabini: Fingering in Public

“Can you believe it Y/N?” Pansy asks you excitedly from across the table.

“Huh?” You asked softly. She looks at your parted lips confused, your eyes are half lidded and you squirm in your chair.

“Are you even listening to me?” She asks.

Blaise sits beside you, his fingers thrumming deep inside your cunt. Panties pushed aside and your skirt rolled to your waist. At least there’s a table cloth to provide some semblance of privacy.

“Stop being rude Y/N,” Blaise says teasingly, his cocky smirk watching you try and hold your composure. His fingers curl up in a ‘come hither’ motion brushing your Gspot. The rhythmic motions pair with his thumb tracing gentle circles on your clit and your brain feels fuzzy.

You have to put your head on the table and cover it with your hands to stop from screaming as Pansy rolls her eyes at your strange behavior and walks off. Blaise feels the liquid on his palms as you squirt onto his fingers, your face panting trying to shyly hide your face.

“Good job staying quiet babe, just give me one more” he whispers in your ear.

Tom Riddle: Pain

I mean. It is Tom Riddle. He loves overwhelming you in the most taboo way. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you sit on his desk, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he pushes into you. With every thrust he delivers a smack to your cheek. You’re breathless as his hand is wet with your tears.

“Take it doll,” he says in a low growl as you feel every slap shift your thoughts away until all you can focus on is the pain and the pleasure. Soon your breathing is rhythmic as your body responds, he loves watching you come undone as he pushes your limits.

Your pussy clenches him and your whimpers turn into loud moans of pleasure as he rolls his hips into you at an untethered pace. His hands to move to grip your ass as he fucks you through your climax.

Then he holds your red cheeks kissing you roughly as you shudder with orgasm. He’s not happy until you’re lost in sub space, nearly babbling incoherently. Desperately asking him if you’ve been a good girl.

—————————

☺️my requests for writing at open!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

mornings with suguru feel like a pipe dream.

there’s something honeyed in the air, bleeding into the scent of freshly brewed espresso, fried eggs resting on the stove, newly bought flowers on the windowsill — apricot nectar heavy on your tongue, dripping down your lip in a sticky stream. his thumb reaches over to wipe it away before you can even try.

suguru is sitting right in front of you, looking like what dreams are made of. eyes a little bleary, mind still sinking into the reality of morning, hair put up into a messy bun; raven strands tickling his forehead and framing his eyes, warm and fond, a nice mocha brown. he’s wearing a white button-up, the scent of laundry detergent seeping into the fabric. he’s smiling, and you’re so in love you can barely breathe.

he always wakes up before you. always has breakfast prepared, or half-done, by the time you stumble into the kitchen on unsteady feet — you love clinging to his back while he cooks. but you love this even more.

outside the frail glass of your window, the world is subdued by the changing seasons. autumn is in full bloom, the sky enveloped by wet, molten clouds, a light layer of mist; on the ground are a row of golden trees. it’s a cozy, indoor kind of morning, the kind that makes your veins feel all sleepy, heart all tender, as if melted down by the gentle rain — the kind that has you sipping from your cup, rubbing your eyes, watching your fiancé from across the kitchen table.

there’s nectar on your tongue, espresso behind your teeth, and you wish you could open your mouth and speak. but you’re too tired, still far too groggy — far too sentimental. you can scarcely breathe. you can only sit there, and silently think: i could never love anyone like you. could never even come close.

do you have any idea what i’d do for you?

you’re sure he doesn’t. sure he prefers to see himself as your protector, not the other way around — that he’s most comfortable being a caretaker, rather than someone who gets taken care of. you know how he is. it’s in everything; the cup of coffee he made for you, the shirt he draped over you last night. his own, always, as if he thinks the fabric will bring you sweet dreams. it’s in the way he holds your hand when you cross the sidewalk, the way his thumb rubs over your knuckles when you’re anxious. it’s in the rain, gentle and comforting, watering your plant-like heart.

there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

nothing. absolutely nothing.

i’d drink a million cups of coffee, one after the other — i’d run out in the rain and pluck the apricots from every tree. i’d listen to that song you like. i’d listen to it until my eardrums bleed, and still wouldn’t stop.

nothing, nothing, nothing.

he turns his head, to gaze out the window, his bangs swaying gently as he does — and your gaze gulps down the lines of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, every flutter of his lashes. he parts his lips, and murmurs something about the weather. he’s smiling, a soft curve, his eyes just barely crinkled —

and you can’t breathe.

you’re so lovely it kills me.

your chest aches with yearning. you want to reach across the table and touch him, but you’re still too immobilized by how beautiful he is, how intense this love has come to feel. how devastating it is, to have this kind of life, to know you can do nothing but savour every bit of it. you can’t stop staring, drinking in his softened features, that content look in his amber-coloured eyes — the rasp under his velvety voice. your baby, your angel, your sun. 

(you want him to shine forever.)

when you look down at the table, there’s an open palm waiting for you. smooth skin, soft lines, gleaming under the dim glow of the kitchen lights. 

you look up, and suguru smiles.

he doesn’t speak until you’ve lifted your hand, tangled your fingers together with his. it feels good, the skin to skin contact, the sight of your rings pressed up against one another. his thumb begins to rub gentle circles into the knots of your knuckles, just the same as always. soothing, rhythmic, a mantra you’ve learned by heart.

”something on your mind?” he asks, softly.

(everything.)

”nothing,” you answer, a quiet lull of your tongue, averting your gaze with a heat to your ears. it’s too early for him to be so gorgeous, to aim his unbridled attention in your direction. ”i just love you…”

his lashes flutter, for a moment.

then his mind catches up to your words, and he laughs — breathy and sweet, the slightest gravelly residue. squeezing your palm in his own.

”i love you too,” he croons, lips curled upwards, and you swear you could never tire of hearing him say those words. ”is someone still a little tired, hm?”

”… maybe.”

a low chuckle. he tugs at your hand, gently, bringing it his lips; they’re warm against your skin, his hot breath seeping out, gliding across your knuckles, stopping right by your ring finger. his eyes gleam with mirth, like the golden leaves just outside your window, pressed against the glass. his voice comes out as a purr. ”do you need another cup, my love?”

his lips trails down, all the way to your wrist, catching onto your pulsepoint. you can’t help but shiver.

”or should i wake you up just like this?”

he’s smiling, and something about it seems smug. he knows exactly how weak you are. and he must think he’s flustering you, acting so suave — but that’s not quite it. when he’s tilting his head like that, he looks more like a puppy than anything, so cute you think you might just melt right through the floorboards.

through the sleepy haze of your mind, to the tips of your fingers — your brain retaliates.

you tug his hand back, bringing yours with it; all the way to your puckered lips. lazily smearing a kiss on the inside of his palm, just barely catching the hitch of his breath, the inhale his heartbeat deigns to swallow down. it makes you smile, against his skin.

(and the tips of his ears bloom with heat.)

everything i need is you. the words are silent, unspoken, only barely mouthed against his skin. i don’t need the rain or the sun. just you, only you. 

when you pull away, your intertwined fingers finding their way back to the tablecloth, suguru gives you another smile. almost painfully tender.

you can’t help but feed into each other, like this. on sleepy mornings, when the words don’t come as easy, so actions are all you have. that, and loving gazes. all you can think is that you want more autumn mornings; you don’t want any of them to end before you’ve finished sipping from your cup of espresso, finished watching him from across the table. not until you’ve woken up enough to spill the words helplessly building up in the back of your throat, the butterflies stuffed in between your ribs. 

until then, this morning mantra will have no choice but to continue. until then, you’ll opt to stay silent.

until then, all you can do is stare.

(and all your mind can think, is nothing, nothing, could ever measure up to this. nothing in the world.)

[sunboki]

the phrase “kissing honey from your lips” makes me dizzy, here’s a channie from my drafts :)

adoring really slow mornings, maybe even dreary mornings with chan.

it’s simple. from the moment you wake up, snuggled up in his warmth against the cold air conditioner, things are so, quiet.

but all the same, they aren’t. his easy breathing, inhales and exhales in repetitive rhythm as he sleeps, the soft rustle of sheets crinkling under his weight when he rolls over, gathering you into his arms the moment you begin scooting away.

no, stay longer he wordlessly beckons, a nearly whispered incantation paired with endless all-nighters compiled into this very morning.

you oblige.

and so, when he finally (and groggily) gets up with you, expect your breakfast to be equally as sleepy.

clumsy footsteps into the kitchen with the groan of the coffee machine echoing itself around a dim-lit atmosphere, wrapping yourself around his back while he heats up the pan.

although this moment is fleeting, you want to take it in to its fullest. starting with his scent, clinging to his shirt—scent of the body wash he uses.

then his touch, whether that’s his hands molding perfectly with the dip of your hips, reaching up for your stomach. resting there, content with the contact.

his lips are your some of your favorite. biting into a particularly oozing biscuit where he kisses the honey from your lips, the chaste pecks on your neck from behind, or gradual, sloppy ones trailing down your jaw while you measure ingredients for muffin mix.

“g’morning,” he’d mutter, earning a half smile from your equally exhausted self who leans back in his embrace, either arm caging you against the counter.

turning around to face him, you smooth away flying curls spiking up in wild directions, marveling at what a man you scored as you admire that half-awake blink of his, likely to forget all of this after he goes back to bed.

you don’t mind, even memories aren’t as bittersweet if chan’s involved.

“good morning to you too,” the words come out even quieter than you anticipated, and his eyes open up a little more hearing your voice.

sparing a few moments of comfortable silence, his expression grows taut, concern evident in the soft lines of his face.

“what’s wrong?”

you smile.

“nothin’, just looking at you.”

despite his expression breaching the surface of surprise, you know better than to think him indifferent, biting back a comment on the sudden pink shade his ears were diminished to.

chan looks away from your gaze, head hanging while you suppress your urge to run your hands through his hair.

“well don’t look too hard or you might find something you don’t like.”

it’s your turn for your face to grow taut, brows furrowing irritably. lifting his face, you take your sweet time kissing his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, then his lips until his eyes have dilated tenfold and lips remain parted, staring at you as if you painted the stars in the sky.

“what is there not to like?” you whisper, a ghost of grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

a lot, you can hear his mind ricochet, convince itself into self-deprecation like it always does. how unfortunate such a light to this world suffers so greatly.

just like how the prettiest flowers are picked first in the garden.

“and when i say that, i mean every word of it. i’ve never been so sure of something in my life, never been so sure of someone in my life. okay baby?”

wordlessly, he stays staring, unable to remove his gaze from you for even a second.

and nothing could prepare you for his next utterance, expertly reaching to turn off the stove and wetting his lips beforehand.

“i want to marry you.”

perhaps he’s simply too exhausted to register his thoughts being spoken aloud. nonetheless, the heart pounding in your chest serves as plenty indication of how genuine this is.

“that’s—“

effectively interrupting him with a fervent kiss, he settles his grip on your waist, gently pulling you closer to his warm frame, smiling avidly against your lips prior to momentarily separating.

“that’s something i’ve never been so sure of in my entire life.”

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[selarina]

True Blue

→ Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader (Series Masterlist)

Chapter 1: Man of The Match

Summary: Back home after your first year of university, you try to spend the bone-dry heat of summer with your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, but restrictions prevail.

Content Warnings: college bf!gojo, fluff, smut, cunnilingus, mention of masturbation, established relationship, implied parental issues, nicknames (baby) Minors DNI

Author's Note: hope you enjoyed some college!bf gojo smut

Taglist: Open

Tap

You were awoken by the insistent sounds of a sharp tap against your window.

It had been raining the past few days, so you didn't bother with the taps, dismissing it as part of the downpour. But now, half-awake, you're realised there was no rain. Not tonight.

Tap

Groggy, your eyes flickered open. Turning, you saw the digital clock on your bedside table blinking a mocking 1:01 am in glaring red numerals. Barely an hour had passed since you had found sleep.

Tap

You groan, a guttural sound that felt alien in the still silence of your room. Knowing how late into the night it was, you were filled with a slight sense of unease, a chill crept up your spine. You would be a bit insane not to feel this way, but you suspected the cause of this disturbance. So, you got up, and slowly made your way to the window.

The curtains were drawn, but you slowly pulled them aside, peering through. It was too dark. You pulled your window up, which you realised required a bit of strength. Maybe you were still feeling a bit dazed from the sleep.

You peered out of the open window, the chill air hitting your sleepy face.

And there he stood under the warm streetlight, Gojo in all his glory— clad in a snug white shirt and black jeans, a small black bag slung over one shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you hissed, careful to keep your voice low. You were hyper aware about the rumours that would spread all the way to your family if the neighbours caught the sight of this particular scene.

He grinned up at you, lifting a finger to point towards your front door— a silent request.

You sighed, backing away from the window, and reaching for the light switch. You searched for the nearest pair of shorts you could find in the blinding new light in your room, and made your way downstairs.

Click

His eyes met yours, blue and infinite, his grin unwavering. You noticed now that it had been raining outside, the remnants of a faint drizzle found themselves clinging to Satoru's drenched hair.

"You could've just called me," you frowned, crossing your arms, frustration evident in your tone.

“I did,” he retorted, stepping inside. “Four times. You weren’t kidding about being a heavy sleeper.”

"You scared the shit out of me, Satoru. You can’t just show up like this," you said, locking the door behind him, "Especially when I'm alone—"

A pout formed on his lips. Annoying. Salacious. "But I missed you," he confessed. Serious. Sincere.

And you melted away, as you often did with this nuisance of a boy. “And you couldn't wait one night?" you feigned irritation, the corners of your lips betraying you.

"Nope."

—

The two of you made it upstairs. Gojo had taken space on the swivel chair near your study desk. You felt a bit conscious about the mess on the desk, you had meant to clean up days earlier.

He was using your spare white towel to rub his hair dry, as you stepped into your room, balancing the full glass of water.

It had only been just a while seen you'd seen him, but you did miss him, admittedly.

You placed the glass beside him on the desk, then plopped onto your bed, sitting as you stared at him mussing his hair dry. His biceps flexing with each brisk movement.

He tilted up, noticing you staring in silence, and grinned, which made your cheeks heat up.

"How— How was the tournament then?" you inquired, genuine curiosity tingeing your words.

He set aside the damp towel, unzipping his bag to reveal a gleaming trophy. "Well, how do you think?" he quipped, his pride evident in his expression

You reached out, fingers grazing the cool metal that read “Man of the Match.”

"Did you really carry this just to show it off to me in the middle of the night?" you teased, though warmth joined your tone.

"Of course," he responded, unabashed. "Sorry, I want my girlfriend to feel pride in the man she chose."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Well... congratulations stud. The pride is all mine," you said, kissing the trophy, the chill of the metal finding your lips. You set it beside you, hand brushing your now cold lips. "What else is in this bag then?"

"Mostly souvenirs. I got a book for you," he reached into the bag again, pulling out two books. “And a book for me,” he added, pressing one of the two to his chest.

And at that, your brows rise. You eyes immediately trailing down to scan the title of the book.

"You're reading The Second Sex?" You asked, amused, and surprised.

See, you give Gojo a lot of shit but he is smart, but you never took him for a reader, assuming he was more of a kinaesthetic learner.

“Well,” he said, moving to sit beside you. The bed dipped under his weight, his hand finding your waist as he leaned in, “I much prefer doing it,” he murmured, lips brushing your neck.

You chuckled, your body tingling beneath the sensation of his warm lips. "You know that's not quite the essence of de Beauvoir's work."

His lips curve into a struggling pout. "Oh, really?" he mused, brows engaged.

Times like this left you a bit baffled — the fact that he knows what the book is actually about, but also, the fact that he feigns being stupid about it. You wonder how many times you haven't clocked it, instead falling for the act.

You smiled. “You're such an idiot, Gojo Satoru.”

"Well, I'm your idiot," he smiled back. "Your mum isn't home? You haven’t nagged me enough about being quiet tonight."

"Yeah, she's gone."

“Gone?” He raised his brows.

"For a few days," you said, half-breathless, acutely aware of his hand trailing up and down your thigh, caressing your skin. “For work.”

Your entire body tensed beneath his touch because this is new — Gojo touching you. You had only recently started dating, and it wasn't like he hadn't touched you before. He had— in this way and so much more, but even so, he always managed to get your heart rapping at a pace your breathing could not support.

He reached closer with his mouth. You help by doing the same. He presses it against your cheek — a soft kiss, before he backs up to linger only a few centimetres away from your lips. His warm breath fanning against your lips.

But this time, you found yourself impatient, reaching for his lips with your own, as his hand moved upward, now sitting snug against your cunt as you kissed. He could feel the heat of your skin singing to him through the thin material of your underwear.

Your limp hands find their purpose — trailing to find the warmth of his skin, one of them finding his hair, as the other hand reaches for Satoru's free hand trailing against the skin of your waist. He turns his hand to help you reach for it and spreads his fingers, so you could hold him — your fingers interlace in union.

“I missed you so much, baby,” he whispered as you parted, noses touching.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, your lips meeting his again, your tongues intertwining. His tongue felt so so warm, and soft against your own. You wonder if yours feel like sandpaper in comparison.

You can hear the faint clacking of your lips, which is when you pull away to huff out a “sorry” before he silences your apology with another kiss.

His fingers unlace with yours as they move to hold your head, pulling you fully into him, trying to get more and more of you with every kiss.

His other hand, trails upwards, finding the waistband of your shorts. He plays with it a little, flicking it as he continues kissing you. His lips moving from your lips to your jaw now, peppering kisses, as he nibbles his way toward your ear.

At that your breath catches, you've always been sensitive there.

"Did you think of me, baby?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I thought of you. Got off to you right after we hung up that night."

Your breath catches again, and he takes this as an opportunity to lay you down on the bed, as his hand slipped inside your shorts, finding you where you seemed to need him most.

He starts at your entrance, the boundary of your shorts restricting his movements. He gathers your wetness with the tip of his middle finger as he slathering them around your clit, moving it up and down as you attempt to move your hips forward, towards him, hoping that his finger will accidentally knock faster against your clit.

But if there's one thing Satoru liked— it was frustrating you. He loved to drag things out when you wanted a quick release. You were always grateful for it at the end but it didn't make the process any less frustrating.

You could hear the squelching between your thighs, and felt your cheeks heat up as he pulled away to look at you. His eyes peering into your own, and you swear you'd never felt more vulnerable than in his arms like this.

You felt his palm press flat against your abdomen, pinning you down against the cushion, as he moved with more vigour.

“Tell me,” he urged again, kissing your jaw. “Did you think of me?”

“Yeah,” you said, breathless and sweaty. “Every night.”

“Every night?” His eyes widened in surprise. “Tell me more.”

"Hah— Please..."

“Go on,” he urged again. “I’ll let you come only if you tell me, baby.”

“Every night, I thought of you as I got off—” You bit your lip. “It’s embarrassing, Satoru please.”

“You're adorable,” he chuckled softly. “You stroke my ego.”

"Satoru, please. I-I need..."

“Need to come, baby?” he coos—ever so irritating. You could hear the delight in his voice, and it fucking irked you, but you also wanted to kiss him stupid for it.

You nodded rapidly, giving in to him.

“I’ll make you come,” he said, his fingers curling inside you, his thumb stroking your clit.

Upon the added stimulation, your hands, almost as though they're working on their own reach out his spare hand. The gesture leaves a pang in his chest, and there is a strangely dark thought that brews within him, that wants to keep you like this all the time. Cute, dumb and at his mercy.

He gives you his hand as he lets your hand wrap itself around his pointer and middle finger.

Your clit is throbbing. Your body is burning. You think you could eternity in this moment, teetering on the edge for the rest of the endless night.

Once more, he curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his eyes on your face. You're close. He can tell.

“Come," he says, his voice hoarse. His fingers move fast, pumping into you.

The gasp that follows proves him right, as you move your hips erratically, closing in on his hand.

You lay there, panting, as he watched you with a smile playing on his lips. He bent down and left a kiss on your sweaty lips

—

You had changed, now donning new shorts and new underwear, as you looked over at the book he got you. A blue cover, with a woman seated amidst an auditorium of red seats.

"You like?" he asked, setting the glass of water he got you on your bedside table.

"Shakespeare and Palestinian Literature," you murmured. You placed the book aside, your arms reaching for him, as you leaned in to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. "You really do know me."

"You're welcome," he grinned, as he settled against the headboard beside you.

"Are you staying the night?" You asked, your hands fiddling with his lanky fingers.

"I can't," he says, and it makes you a bit sad. You were hoping he could. Truthfully, you didn't like living alone when you were back home — without your sister, without your mum. "I need to see my parents,” he added.

"You didn't see your parents first?" you asked, turning, as your eyebrows arched in surprise.

He shrugged. "I wanted to see you first."

"Your parents probably don’t like me any better now," you say, a bit glum.

He stares at you, feeling just as glum because there's truth to it, there is. They aren't your biggest fan. It only informs him that he's doing something right but it doesn't sit right with him, at the end of the day. It would hurt your heart.

“You keep running off to see me. You should spend as much time as you can when you're home, Satoru.”

"I will," he says, though he knew he was lying. Frankly, he hates home. He couldn't wait to get back to university, where he could find a home in your messy dorm room. Your roommate can crib all she wants. “Can I stay the night?" he asks, as he feels your hand stop fiddling with his own.

"I thought you had to be home," you say, your hands retracting back onto your lap.

"Well, it's the middle of the night," he replies, bending down to nuzzle into your neck, before his lips left a soft kiss. "I'll leave early, and lock up behind him."

You merely hum, too tired to argue, too grateful to send him back home. "Go home for breakfast, okay?"

He hummed. "I will."

"Promise?"

His murmured "promise" was the last thing you heard before sleep found you, coddling you into her gentle hands.

[consciouscarrot]

day 12 - rainy day [r.lupin]

remus lupin x fem!reader

content warnings; just fluff and cuddles <3

notes; sorry i’m late today!!

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

rain pattered down against the weathered windows, cloaking the boys’ dorm in a cloud of grey despite the early hour. you were laying down in remus’ bed, said boy behind you, pulling you into him in a loving embrace. your legs were tangled together, soft thighs and sock covered feet, the perfect amount of warmth shared between your bodies, regardless of the autumn chill that filled the air.

you were half asleep, the two of you had been allowed a lie in due to it being sunday. luckily for you, sirius and james had quidditch practice that day from the early morning, so the two of you had to dorm to yourselves, no annoying boys to bug you into getting up.

watching past the row of sun-bleached books sat on the windowsill, you enjoyed the soothing sound of rain pouring down against the castle, you fought to keep you eyes open, wanting to enjoy the moment, but lids feeling heavier by the second.

you were brought out of your reverie when a tired groan sounded from behind you, alerting you to remus’ state of awakeness.

“g’morning, baby,” he rasped out, voice still thick with sleep, the low tones sending butterflies swarming around your tummy. you shoved your face into the pillow, smiling shyly when his arms tightened around your waist.

“mm, morning,” you flipped over, wanting to kiss him and press your face into his warm neck. you smushed your lips to his, giggling softly when he smiled into your mouth, eyes refusing to open.

you made a sleepy sound, one that made remus want to keel over in adoration. he pulled away slowly, in favour of nuzzling into your neck, wanting to nip at your skin because he was so overwhelmed with his love for you, he felt so tremendously lucky to have you.

eventually, his bladder began to twinge, he hated that he had to leave you even for a second, but wanted to get it over with so you could be back in his arms as soon as possible.

you whined when he wriggled, trying to remove his arms from you, groaning into your neck when you refused to relent your grip.

“nooo, don’t go,” you whined, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“have to pee, dove. i’ll be quick,”

grumbling, you reluctantly let him go, threatening to chop off his important bits if he took too long.

fortunately for his dick, he was quick, climbing back into bed to find a barely conscious you, chuckling to himself at your state.

“y’too tired to even miss me, baby. let’s go back to sleep, yeah?”

you nodded, eyes fluttering shut and clinging to him. the scent of him engulfed you, making your head spin and your chest felt so warm with love.

the two of you spent the rest of your morning dozing, never leaving one another’s arms. at least, not until you were awoken to sirius’ loud complaining about you not being awake to ‘entertain him’, only cackling when you blindly throw a pillow in his direction.

[agi-ppangx]

you were brushing through your freshly washed hair when you heard soft footsteps coming from outside the bathroom. the door opened and minho came inside, immediately latching his half-asleep figure to your body from behind. “what are you doing?” he mumbled quietly in the crook of your neck. “i just got up to wash my hair, i had to finally get rid of this castor oil. but look, aren’t they smoother now?” you touched your damp hair with a smile, but minho only grumbled and you noticed in the mirror that his eyes were completely closed. “why didn’t you tell me you were going to the bathroom?” he asked and it confused you. “why would i tell you? you were sleeping, i wouldn’t want to wake you up anyway,” you said, pouting. was he mad that you got up without him knowing? minho nuzzled his face even more in your neck, breathing your soft scent. “so i could come here with you and hug you like i am now.” you cooed at his response, smiling ever so fondly. minho came up as someone cold and uninterested, but this was only the impression when someone didn’t know him as well as you did. you knew he was clingy and in constant need of attention from you. sometimes you felt like you had a little koala instead of a boyfriend, but you didn’t mind the slightest. “i’m sorry, honey. i’ll make sure to wake you up next time, okay?” you said, your voice barely above the whisper, and minho let out a small “mhm”, placing the tiniest kiss right behind your ear. “i’d like that. but now please hurry up or i’ll die. i’m still really tired,” he whined and you giggled at that. “yes, sir,” you saluted jokingly, grinning. you grabbed your hairbrush, quickly untangling the rest of your hair, and in a short moment you were able to guide your sleepy, koala-like boyfriend back to your bedroom, letting him cling to you and fall asleep, probably to dream of you.

wrote it in one go before my lectures, please bear with me as usual

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-skz @l3visbby

[jinnie-ret]

Ot8 x accident prone reader 👀 love me some hurt/comfort

clumsy accidents

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: stress, minor injuries

word count: 2.9K

you've been stressed out all week from university assignments, so when you spend the evening with stray kids, it's not a shock that they were able to find out, as well as tease you for your renowned clumsy habits.

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy! :)

As always, asks are open :)

MASTERLIST

It had been a long week. All you wanted to do was to curl up into bed and go to sleep, feeling the pressure of university assignments getting you down. You had also just finished eating dinner which was probably part of the reason you were feeling sleepy - a full stomach. But there was the blaring reminder that you agreed with the boys that you'd go round their dorms and visit them. You scolded yourself for even tempting yourself with the idea of not moving. They're your best friends, you couldn't just skip out on plans because of how you were feeling, you'd feel too guilty.

As you lay on your bed that felt irresistibly comfortable, you took in a few deep breaths, telling yourself you just needed to make that first step and move, but you knew if anyone asked you wouldn't be able to deny the trembling of your body, knowing there was an underlying reason in your brain why you didn't want to get up. Your mind wandered, telling yourself you were being overdramatic. Everyone else you knew was probably stressed out too, yet here you were spiraling so deep that your body was physically reacting.

Snap out of it.

You looked next to you at the small alarm clock that sat on your bedside table, a present from Jeongin. You two had gone to music school together and he knew your bad sleeping habits quite well. The time read 18:15.

Your eyes widened as you sat up, dumping your purse and other things into your bag as you quickly tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible. It was a ten minute walk so you left ASAP.

The rushing around made your head ache but you ignored it, one thing on your mind and that was walking over to the boys' dorms. Somehow you had used up more time as you zoned out in the bedroom of your apartment. Time seemed to be moving quickly when your brain was moving slower. Going outside into the great outdoors was just an obstacle to your destination, and you craved the warmth of their dorms rather than the biting cold weather of the winter.

With a simple knock on the door, it instantly flung open as you were tugged into the embrace of a cheery Australian boy.

"Y/N! She's finally here!" Felix says joyfully as his arms tug you through the threshold of their apartment, Seungmin laughing from behind him and watching fondly, being left to shut the front door.

"Hello Felix," you quietly giggle, yet it was muffled against his shoulder that you were held so tightly against.

"Oh is Y/N finally here?" Hyunjin says, walking into the living room with Minho and Han trailing behind him.

"What do you mean finally, haha? And it's nice to see you too," you ask with a confused smile, sarcasm slipping through your words after, waiting for the boys to enlighten you.

"Ah sorrrryy, come here, I missed you" Hyunjin reaches his arms forward and you are once again pulled into the embrace of my best friends, unable to contain your smile despite your shakiness.

"Ah it's not a problem, don't worry! I think we said for half 5, but it's half 6 now so we got a bit worried..." Chan says, sounding just like the leader he is.

You were sure when you all texted earlier that it had been agreed for half 6...

And now you felt even more guilt and stress seep into you for having made them worry and kept them waiting.

You turned around, still in Hyunjin's arms with him clinging onto you from behind, your body feeling more tense.

"You're joking right?" you say confused, rummaging around your bag for your phone, but looked up again realising you must have left it at your apartment.

"No, but it's ok don't worry, you're here now! And you're staying over if you still want to so we got plenty of time!" Jeongin says grinning at you, the same grin you remember seeing when you sat next to each other in class for the first time.

You clasped my hands in front of you nodding along,

"Yeah of course as long as that's alright, I'm sorry I'm late I even forgot my phone so yeah..." you trail off awkwardly, never wanting to burden them. You couldn't help your worried thoughts despite the fact that you're their best friend.

"Yah! You don't have to feel so awkward around us! It's not like you're meeting us for the first time," Changbin giggles holding onto your wrists and swinging your arms playfully, slowly dragging you out of Hyunjin's arms and into your own, causing the ferret like man to pout and sit on the sofa joining the others.

"Okay I just wanted to make sure," you smile bashfully, hugging Changbin quickly before Jisung's rambles catch your attention.

"It's fine it's fine, now come sit down! We haven't seen each others in AGESSSS" Jisung says dismissively, waving you over to where everyone is sat down apart from yourself and Changbin.

You wait for him to sit down first and look around at the sofas realising everyone else has already taken a space. You unknowingly space out before arms pull you back into somebody's lap.

"Oof," you huff out a breath, eyes widening, the situation looking comical to the guys as some of them laugh or show fond smiles.

"Finally I get my welcome hug," Minho says from behind you.

"Oh hello Irino," you say tiredly leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him as you speak.

"Better," he nods at you with a small smirk and so you turn back around knowing he feels acknowledged.

Being the first one to speak up, you decide to ask the boys about their week rather than them getting in with that question first. Knowing you're still shaking like a leaf, you wanted to keep the focus off if you.

"So boys, what have I missed whilst you've been cool idol guys?" you ask jokingly as you fold your arms and lean back into Minho.

"Cool idol guys? Wahhh," Jeongin exclaims, impressed.

"Woah this is high praise!" Chan jokingly bows.

"Stop stop stop just tell me" you grin, rolling your eyes.

"So... We've just filmed a video for our Japanese comeback, with a singer called LiSA," Seungmin started explaining.

"Oh. My. Gosh. I love her voice! You guys are so lucky!" you enthusiastically respond, causing a couple of the guys to chuckle.

"I think you'll really like the song, Y/N, it's definitely something you'd listen to," Hyunjin commented.

"For all I know you could just be convincing me to buy your song and I might not like it..." you say, teasing Hyunjin for his very media trained response.

Gasps ring out around the room.

"Name a song by us, right now, that you don't like!" Jisung stands and points at you, tone filled with disbelief.

"Okay you got me there..." you sigh and throw your hands up in defeat, letting out a little giggle when Jisung sits back down and folds his arms looking proud of himself.

"Aw cute," Minho says in an annoying high pitched voice, jolting you about in his lap.

"Yah Minho!" you slap his hands away playfully.

The other boys gasp and laugh at the same time, Felix staring straight at you with an 'oh shit' look.

"Ohhhhh, she disrespected the hyung," Jeongin murmured.

"Even I wouldn't 'yah' Minho" Chan laughed.

"Hey Y/N..." Minho smirked, you could hear it in his voice.

"Hmmm," you say indifferently.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

At this point the boys were watching eagerly, giggles hidden behind their hands.

"Yes 180° in the air fryer for precisely 1 hour," you say off by memory, looking into the distance and zoning out as you thought about how busy the week had been and how you'd kill just to go to sleep. But you knew you couldn't if you tried at this time. It was just too early for you at the moment.

Whilst you were thinking back, the boys watched as Minho stood up with you in his arms and span you around, both of you feeling dizzy when he finally stopped.

"Woah hyung, I think you made her go all dazed," Changbin laughed.

Minho stumbled jokingly across the room exaggerating his dizziness whilst you stood still not even blinking.

"Hello? Y/N?" Felix laughed looking into your eyes.

You blinked coming out of your thoughts and saw Felix in front of you.

"Aw cute," you pinched his cheeks. You thought to yourself as long as you diverted the attention back on them they'd have nothing to be suspicious of about you. No reason to notice the shakiness or dizziness.

"Oh no... I think hyung spun her round so much that she turned into him," Hyunjin laughed.

"Yah Hyunjin-ah air fryer time" Minho threatened walking after him.

You zoned out again, returning to reality when a certain quokka was stood in front of you and shaking your arms, trying to get your attention.

"Y/N? Hello? Oh dear, I think she has gone to another realm..." he dramatically cried, arms tightening around your arms where he held you, making you wince as he squeezed a fresh burn mark.

"Aish!" you hiss out, pulling your arm away from him.

As attentive as ever, Chan immediately saw your pain.

"What's going on? What's the matter?" he quickly got up from his seat on the sofa and wrapped and arm around your shoulders looking concerned, Jisung now feeling bad as he stood in front of you.

"Sorry Y/Nnie, was that me? Did I hurt you?" Jisung asked worriedly but then turned over your arm and saw the burn mark.

"Ouch, Y/N that looks painful, what did you do this time?" Chan playfully sighs, still showing his concern but also teasing you for my renowned clumsiness.

"What's Y/N done this time?" Seungmin asks with a raised eyebrow, looking up from his phone.

"I-it's just a small burn... I was cooking earlier and then the oil kinda splashed back at me when I put the food in?" you explained sheepishly.

"What did you do... Launch your food into the pan?" Changbin asks incredulously and lets out a small laugh.

"Hey! I don't throw my food in!" you defend yourself.

"No but you definitely let yourself get hurt way too often..." Jeongin stood up to look at your burn too.

"It's not that bad... And hey! You're one to talk, Jeongin!" you stick your tongue out at him, the two of you both being clumsy people.

"Ah, our two clumsy maknaes... Can't take them anywhere..." Hyunjin sighs, but smiles nonetheless as he fondly looks over at you and Jeongin stood together.

"Come on, I'll find some ointment to put on it," Felix gently guides you into the bathroom. On the way down the corridor, you trip over an abandoned slipper, nearly falling to the ground. Luckily, Felix catches you but with great difficulty as you're completely off balance.

"Woah woah woah, you good?"

"Yeah, sorry," you say, looking down as he helps you catch your balance. He hums in acknowledgement before analysing who's shoe it was.

"Oi! Bang Chan hyung! You nearly killed Y/N, you prick! Clean up your shoes!" he yelled over your shoulder, hearing a bunch of giggles coming from the living room after he finished.

"Sorry bro! Sorry Y/N!" was all Bang Chan had to offer back.

"Anyways, let's get that arm of yours sorted," Felix returned to his normal sunshine self, seating you on the toilet as he grabs their little healing kit from the bathroom cupboard.

Once again, you spaced out, staring at the patterns of the tiled floor as Felix was knelt down beside you, gently rubbing the ointment in.

"Hey, Y/N, you ok sweetheart? You've been a bit spacey today," Felix gently asks you, putting the ointment away and instead sitting on the edge of the bath, his eyes looking over at you worriedly.

"Huh?" you only then realised he patched up your arm and asked you a question.

"You've been a bit, off... Has something happened?" Felix asked, brows furrowed in concern as he rubs your upper arm in reassurance.

"N-not really anything in particular... Just had a busy week I guess," you sigh, knowing nothing would slide with Felix.

"Have you been looking after yourself? You nearly fell over earlier and it took way to long for you to catch your balance for that to have been normal..." he tilts his head, looking into your eyes.

"Sleep isn't really my friend at the moment," you admit, hearing him 'tsk'.

"Y/N, you should have said, come on, good thing you're here! How about we go back and sit with the others, chat, relax, and you can listen to Changbin talk about the gym to make you fall asleep," Felix jokes, trying to make you laugh as he helps you stand, one arm wrapped around your shoulder and the other holding your hand as he was successful in doing so.

"That won't make me sleep, it never does..." you smile at his attempts of trying to make you feel better. Felix really was the sweetest.

"Yeah, because you're too busy staring at his muscles," Felix throws his head back as he laughs at you.

"At least I'll get away with it today, can't tease me this time," you joke around, walking down the corridor at your own pace, referring to your 'spacey' moments, as Felix so endearingly called them.

"Just take things slow ok, don't want you passing out on me, okay?" Felix kindly says to you, as he sits you down between him and Seungmin.

From beside you, the puppy like guy gently took your arm and his fingers traced over where Felix had wrapped a bandage around your burn. You hadn't even noticed him do that.

"Does it feel better?" Seungmin lowly asks.

"Yeah," you nod sleepily.

"What's this about you passing out on us, hmm?" Lee Know questions as he walks back in, handing you a glass of water as he once again took his seat.

You look at Felix hoping he'd explain for you and he did.

"Y/N has just had a busy week, stressed out at uni, right?" he explains and double checks that he was right in saying that, so you nod in response.

"Ah, Y/Nnie, you should have said! We wouldn't have made you come over," Changbin lightly scolded you, no ill intent behind his words.

"It's fine, really, I missed you guys," you try to reassure them that you're ok, leaning against Seungmin's shoulder.

"Aw did Y/N just say that she missed us?" Hyunjin says in a baby voice.

"I can take it back..." you trail off, nose scrunched from his antics.

"Nope! No, no going back on that now," Jisung shook his head at you.

"Fine," you rolls your eyes playfully and bring the glass up to take a sip of water, only for it to miss your mouth and go all over you t-shirt.

Your white t-shirt.

"Ah protect the baby!" Hyunjin throws a blanket over you, the whole thing covering you, including your head.

You pull it off your head and cringe at the feeling of your t-shirt sticking to your skin.

"I'll grab you a hoodie of mine," Jeongin smiles at you ruffling your hair as he walks past, going into his room.

"Are you so tired you forgot how to drink?" Lee Know teases.

"No, she's just clumsy," Changbin laughs.

"I'm not tired enough to forget how to punch," you yawn as you speak, maintaining eye contact with Changbin.

"You're not stupid enough to punch though," Chan sternly says, putting his phone down.

"She wouldn't actually do it, she's about as scary as a little mouse," Seungmin laughs, having since moved away from you to avoid getting damp too.

"Then let's make you an elephant," you poke him, leaning on Felix instead.

"I leave for a few seconds and now Seungminnie hyung is an elephant?" Jeongin laughs, his wide smile on show as he hands you his grey Mahagrid hoodie.

"Woah, you never let me steal this one," you gleefully take it, smiling back at Jeongin.

"You've had a long week, I'll let you have it this time round," Jeongin holds the blanket for you as you stand and change round the corner. You walk back in and see he took your spot.

"Hey you stole my spot!"

"You stole my hoodie!"

"You gave it to me..."

"Aish come here..." Bang Chan squishes you in between him and Jisung.

"Ok this is fine," you say, wiggling before accepting your fate.

"Wouldn't have this issue if you weren't so clumsy in the first place," Chan tutted before laughing. He had one arm wrapped around your shoulders whilst Jisung traced shapes on your hand.

"Can't help it I'm so tired... Stupid assignments," you huff, trying to blow away a stray hair.

"Is it getting too much, sweetheart?" Chan tucks the hair behind your ear.

"It's just... I don't think I can handle it very well right now. But everyone else seems to be ok," you sigh.

"Let's have this evening to forget about it all then, ok? How does that sound?" Chan hugs you tighter to him and you nod.

"Good, just let yourself rest this time, okay?" Felix says from the other sofa, and you smile back at him.

For the rest of the evening you all exchanged jokes, food, and cuddles, and there wasn't a better way to let your stress go then to be with your favourite people in the world.

tagged: @oo-li

[luveline]

hi jade! i really loved ur steve drabble where he comforts reader when she's insecure about her appearance. would you write something similar with eddie? i don't mean to bother, thank u for all your wonderful writing <3

thank you lovely!! fem!reader

Eddie takes your hip into his hand as he passes behind you, the snug bathroom an excuse to touch. You don't mind, really, even as the lip balm you're using jolts down onto your chin. 

"Sorry," he says. He's not murmuring, but his voice has an understated sleepy quality to it that you adore. "Just gonna open the window." 

You've finished washing up for the night, steam from the shower clinging to the walls, the shower head dripping with run off. Your bathroom is a rectangle that can barely fit the two of you together, but it's yours, so it's perfect. 

Eddie pushes the window out off the latch to let in the mild summer air. The room immediately cools. Satisfied, he takes a big breath and turns to you with a content smile. "You smell good enough to eat," he praises, putting his hand behind your back. 

You cap your lip balm and brace yourself on the sink. In the mirror, it's easy to watch him watch you. Your face, lined with unhappiness, and his, so, so devoted it makes you feel poorly. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, moving in closer still. His bicep curls behind your back, his wrist hanging over your shoulder. He noses under your ear gently, propping a quick kiss there like he's going to pick it up again. "You look kind of sad." 

He says it like it's a tragedy in the making. 

Your attempt of a smile melds into a grimace as you direct your gaze down to the empty sink, porcelain shining with water. A tiny dollop of toothpaste clings to the drain. You turn on the hot tap. 

Eddie turns it off. "Hey," he murmurs, dragging it out, "tell me." 

"I think I'm having one of those days where I feel really ugly," you confess. 

"You're just as pretty as you were yesterday. As you are everyday." His face inches closer to yours. He speaks with all the intonation of someone telling a secret, "I'd say you were prettier, actually." 

"I don't know. I look weird, sometimes. I think I look one way and then I see myself in the mirror and I look different." 

Eddie's hand pets your upper arm, half a hug. "Can I give you a kiss?" he asks. 

You sigh and turn toward him, tipping your head back. 

He laughs. "Don't seem so reluctant!" he chides, bringing a hand to your cheek. With a gentleness that evidences how deeply he loves you, he strokes your cheek. Like you're fragile as a strand of silk, or precious as carved alabaster. 

"You don't think I'm ugly?" you ask. Perhaps desperately. 

Eddie meets your eyes. When he closes his, you close yours. "No," he says, pressing a mindless kiss to your lips, the kind he gives when you're both nearly sleeping, or barely awake. It livens, but before it can deepen, he pulls away to continue, "You're not ugly. I think you're the," —pause for a kiss, like he just can't wait— "prettiest girl in the world." 

The hand that isn't holding your face meanders across your lower back, fingertips teasing the hem of your t-shirt. He can't not do what he wants to do once he's thought about it, pushing his hand under your shirt to explore your naked back. He pulls you in close, your hips against the sink, his socked foot sliding between yours.

He kisses you slowly, time stretching and condensing at once. It could be five seconds, or it could be thirty. A kiss to say everything you're worried about is simply worry —it's as good an answer as you could want. 

Until he breaks away, and he says, "You're fucking stellar, I need you to know that. Head to toe. Can't believe you'd think any different, but what do I know about it? I only spend the large majority of my waking hours wishing I could climb into your skin." 

Your laugh catches in your throat. "You ruined it." 

"I look at you more than anything else," he says, amending his creepy finish. He turns your face gently, back and forth, his irises a melty shade of brown where they follow your growing smile. "So I'm the expert. You're beautiful, sweetheart. Don't think otherwise." 

"Or you'll crawl into my skin?" you tease, spirits lifted. 

Eddie wrinkles his nose. "Ew, no. Why would you think that?" 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and laugh into his collar. He hugs you back enthusiastically. "Think there's enough room in there for me?" he whispers. "I wanna know what it's like to be that pretty." 

You shake your head. "No, sorry." 

"Bummer. Well, let me know if there's ever a vacancy." 

[kentosbabes]

First time with roommate Gojo and friend Geto

Your roommate Gojo had invited his close friend Geto over for a sleepover at the apartment. Honestly, he doesn’t seem all that bad, just a little quiet which you don’t mind. It was past midnight when you left your room to head to the kitchen for a glass of water, not noticing a presence in there.

You looked to the opened window and rolled your eyes, already imagining the arguing you and Gojo will have about his smoking habits in the house, but you turn on the light to see a tall and handsome man sitting with a cigarette in between his plush lips. "What's the matter?" Geto said casually and then took a drag from his cigarette. "You're up awfully late, aren't you?"

You explain you couldn’t sleep and he looked sympathetic, “Do you want a smoke?” He politely offered but you declined as you don’t smoke. You didn’t see Gojo walk in, placing one hand on the top of the doorframe and the other in the pocket of his grey sweatpants. “Couldn’t sleep? I know how to make you sleepy, you just need to burn off the built-up energy” tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. He smelt of cotton and fresh clothes whereas Geto smelt expensive and natural.

They both watched you with hooded eyes, Gojo stepped closer to you, running the back of his hand across your bare collarbone where your silky sleepwear has slipped.

Geto lips on your ear lobe breathing. You felt frozen but aroused. What was going on? his hands travelled up your light pink nightgown and pulled it up. The cold air pebbles your nipples and makes the hair on your arms stand up.

With his free hand, Gojo tugged at the collar of your nightgown. "Help me out here."

The two of them unbuttoned your satin sleeping shirt, “Such a good girl.” Geto placed his finger and thumb on your chin lifting your head up while you kiss him, Gojo watching this didn’t want him to have all the fun. Leaning into your neck and placing littered kisses all over sucking and licking redding marks. You moaned into Geto’s mouth, taking advantage of the open mouth he furthered the kiss, pushing your body plush to his.

Your fingernails dug into Geto’s shoulders, clinging to him as your arousal rose within you. You could feel the tension between your legs growing between your leg as Gojo’s cock aligned with your clit, running against it with Geto kissing you and brushing his fingers on your nipples.

Gojo stopped his reading and started to actually fingerfuck you, “Need to get you ready to take both of us.” Your heart stuttered and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Gojo shoved the crotch of your panties aside and started rubbing your clit without the fabric in the way. “You’re so fucking wet for us, aren’t you?” Dipping a finger into your pussy with ease, he started to move at a rhythmic pace faster and faster until you could feel your climax arising. You started to fall into an orgasm that’s is powerful than any you have ever been able to give yourself in the comfort of your own room.

“Wanna taste?” Gojo stuck two fingers back into you and grabbed Geto’s nape, bringing him closer to the fingers. Geto slowly licked them, making eye contact throughout the interaction with you. “Sweet.” Your legs clenched at the lewd scene enfolding in front of you.

Geto is half hard, his dick curving away from his stomach, watching you get fingered by Gojo whilst leaning on him for support almost made him cum right then and there. Gojo stopped his movements after you reached your climax and you fell to the floor, the cool kitchen tiles on your knees soothed them.

“Ahw, now I’m feeling lonely, wanna help me out? Hm?” Geto teased untying the drawstrings of his black and red plaid bottoms, freeing his half-mast cock.

You moaned in pleasure, wrapping your tongue around Geto’s cockhead. It was pulsing steadily, slowly growing out of control. You could see him quickly unwinding, his gut coiling in a familiar fashion. Head bobbing up and down, before leaving only the tip in your mouth, and swirling your tongue around the ridge. Using one hand whilst your mouth was busy to pleasure Gojo in the same rhythm. A cacophony of moans fell from his red and bitten lips leaving his cock listed and leaking his seed into your throat. You swallow, looking up at them both through your eyelashes and a smirk on your lips.

You moved your head to Gojo to finish him off. He’s moaning, and he realizes it's a low desperate sound, his breath catching in his throat. Gojo’s darkened eyes remained on you, his previously clenched hands clasping the back of your head. You could feel a familiar warmth tipping from his dick into your throat, picking you up bridal style into his bedroom with Geto following the both of you. He laid you down, ass up. Gojo felt Geto’s fingers wrap around his cock, angling his cock into your cunt. He thrust forward, closed his eyes and groaned as tight wet heat clenched around him.

Geto’s hands were everywhere, all over Gojo and you, caressing and kneading every bit of flesh he could reach.

You gasp into Gojo’s mouth, unconsciously raising your leg up to wrap around his waist as he supports you with his arm, your fingernails clawing at his shoulders as you feel yourself reach your high, the coil in your tummy snapping.

Incoherent babbling aside, you turned your head to look at Geto leaning back in pleasure as he fondled his own balls. You start to kitten lick until you could feel him. Matching the speed Gojo set on your pussy, as he increased the pace so did your hand on Geto. He started to finger you whilst he was still in you, whining and moaning at the fullness. He managed to get to 2 fingers when Geto threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling you off of him so he could go to your cunt. He pulled her down onto his hard cock until she was filled up with both of their dicks. The stretch was unbelievable, you could see the imprint of their dicks in your abdomen.

Eyes rolling back at the pressure and fullness both their lengths provoked, it felt different with two dicks inside of you. You could feel the difference in sizes and texture but also pace and rhythm. Gojo lifted you up and down their dicks to adjust you, you laid your head on Geto’s abdomen as he was laying down as well.

Geto leaned up and breathed in your ear. “I could spend forever watching you get fucked by both of our cocks, watching it spill out of you and then the both of us fucking it back in.” You shivered as his tongue danced with yours, tasting every inch of your mouth. It was too much, you were going to cum “m’ cumming!” You climaxed alongside the both of them, warm seed leaking out of them together, grunting and groaning in sync.

Masterlist

[ciitroner]

What does the princess treatment from the boys look like cause this 9-5 is killing me.

Back hurts, shoulders hurt, feet hurt - If it's a better deal I'll take the kidnapped by two hot men for 200.

🥲

wc: 933 warnings: fluff, you get a massage after a hard day of work :), cute ending(?)

Don't really expect anything nice unless you've "deserved it", at least that's the mentality you'll find in Simon. It's Johnny who falls first, "love at first grind" he claims, grins and humps the air behind you like an airheaded fratboy. You recall the day you met him at the bar, cringe at yourself, and wish you'd kept to your sad little house for the night. Simon doesn't understand what Johnny obsesses over, but he still lets him keep you.

He finds you a bit hot when you're angry and screaming at him, pushing you even further by not responding - only tilting his head a bit. He bets you'd even try to punch him if you weren't bound to the headboard, the dumb little thing you are. Could break your arm so easily, he bets. He finds you slightly cuter when you're clinging to him, though, sleepy and tired after a long night. So what.

Over time, he gets more and more infatuated with you - but he refuses to admit that it's love. Simon Ghost Riley doesn't love. Yet, when he sees you in the kitchen - slightly teary eyed from the harsh affectionate ass-slap you got from Johnny when you asked where the baking powder was for the cake you're practically forced to bake, he gnaws slightly on his lower lip. Johnny showed you the cupboard where the newly bought baking powder was being kept and gave you a kiss before walking away to tend to some other important matter. They don't trust you being alone yet, especially in the kitchen, so Simon had to watch over you.

You whisk the batter, trying to imagine you're anywhere but here. He's scary. Basically acting like a second shadow, following each of your movements with his cold eyes. You scoop up some of the batter from the side of the bowl with your finger and turn around towards him, raising your finger, "want a taste, S-Simon?", you mentally curse yourself over the stutter. Forced to use their real names lately, you're not used to it - you hate how out of control you feel.

"No."

He turns around and walks off to the window, not daring to leave you alone for his quick smoke break. His eyes bore into yours as you shrug and pop it in your own mouth, trying to hide the humiliation from the asshole rejection. You put the batter in the cake pan before finally opening the oven and putting it in. Your body aches, and you lean against the kitchen counter with a sigh, rubbing and half-heartedly massaging your own shoulder. They'd told you to clean the house when you had screamed last night about how disgusting and dusty everything is, and how much you hate them. Johnny had just played it off as you needing a good dicking down, and Simon had just rolled his eyes.

"How long?" His voice suddenly speaks up, beside you. You jump in fright and notice that - for a big guy, he sure is quiet as a mouse. "about 20 more minutes..." you stare up at him, silently trying to figure out why he's so interested. He hums, and ushers you to the sofa, sighing in relief when dust particles don't fly up anywhere when you both sit down. "Did a good job today. Lay down."

You lay down on your back, and half-expect him to pull a Johnny and pounce on you.

"Your stomach, love, c'mon." He turns you around, and you oblige. He shocks you when he pulls your shirt up and unclasps your bra. Simon stands over you for a few seconds, before he scoots you into the back cushions and sits on the small empty space beside your butt. You close your eyes, burrowing your head in your arms, crossed under your face. It starts with slow strokes of his calloused and rough fingers down your back, until they settle at your lower back. Two thumbs on either side of your soft back massage your muscles with precise movements. He slowly moves upwards, taking his time to shift between massaging and stroking, sometimes even brushing his fingers through your scalp. He stops to knead a sore spot under your shoulder blades when you let out a slightly pained gasp and open your eyes in shock.

You both ignore the twitch in his pants.

He focuses on that specific muscle for a while, kneading it to dough, before moving on.

-----

You yawn, open your eyes, and notice the evening glow from the sun through the window in the living room. You'd fallen asleep and forgot-

"The cake!" You try to move up from the sofa, but a tug on your foot stops you, "easy, crazy." Johnny laughs, "Simon took care of it." You notice a blanket draped over you, only exposing your knees and down, he's massaging your feet and calves, as they're laid over his thighs, "Lay back, he told me not to stop unless ye cried for me to." His eyes shift to the TV, while he continues his ministrations. You push your head onto the pillow under your head again, probably put there after you'd fallen asleep.

You sigh, the tiredness and stress from the past few weeks weighing down on your eyelids, and you comfortably drowse off before you can hear the "g'night, princess." that leaves Simon's mouth when he strokes the back of his hand over your cheek.

His slight trance is interrupted by the man beside you, "ye burnt yerself?"

Simon scoffs slightly and crosses his arms, "forgot to use those pink fuckin' oven mitts you bought."

[itadores]

note: hello <3 this is very self-indulgent and very self-ship coded hehe

pairing: nanami kento x gender neutral reader

tags: gender neutral reader, fluff, slice of life

The rising sun slipping through the cracks of the blinds of your bedroom window rouses you from your morning slumber. Unwilling to wake just yet, you snuggle further into your pillow, burrowing yourself deeper beneath your blankets like an animal utterly content to continue its hibernation. But much to your dismay, the sun stubbornly continues to rise, scattering beams of light throughout the room. You squeeze your eyes shut, hopeful that you can stave off the brightness growing behind your eyelids and return back to sleep, but despite your best efforts to cling to sleep, you feel it slowly slip further and further away from you.

Unhappily, you crack your eyes open and blink a few times to gain your bearings. You look around the room and frown when you notice that the other side of your bed is distinctly empty, the ruffled blankets and a deep indentation in the pillow are the only pieces of evidence that someone was once there. Now aware that you’ve been left all alone, you lift the layers upon layers of blankets off of your body and slip out of bed. You grab one of the smaller blankets lying in the crumpled mass on your bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before you make your way over and push open the door of your bedroom.

Amid the quietness of the early morning, your ears pick up the faint shuffling of someone moving around your home. Unperturbed, you follow the sound. Your feet lead you to the kitchen where you find your lover with his back towards you.

Kento does not so much as flinch when you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek to his spine. You take a deep inhale of Kento's familiar and inviting scent and exhale, utterly content.

"Good morning, love," Kento gently greets.

"G'morning," you mumble, voice steeped in sleepiness that you've yet to shake off.

"Still tired?"

You yawn right on cue, which elicits a soft chuckle from Kento. His back rises and falls as it rumbles its way through him.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says.

You hum. The combined warmth of Kento's body heat and the blanket you have wrapped around yourself is nearly enough to lull you back into a state of drowsiness.

"What're you doing?" You peer around Kento's frame, eyes drifting to the kitchen counter to get a look at what it is that's keeping his hands busy.

"I'm making matcha," he replies as your eyes land on his hands whisking a mixture of matcha powder and water in a ceramic bowl.

You perk up, feeling much more awake than just a few seconds ago.

"Will you make one for me, baby?" you sweetly ask, cozying up even closer to Kento and nuzzling your cheek against his arm. Your best attempt at persuasion. "Please."

Kento's brown eyes fall onto you. The corner of his lips pull into a small half-smile. He looks beautiful in the morning light.

"I’m already making you one.”

Your eyes light up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” you dramatically say, giving Kento a firm squeeze around his middle. You lean into his touch when he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Yes, but I suppose it never hurts to hear."

You press a kiss of your own to his shoulder. "I love you," you say, voice softening with sincerity. Perhaps it's the sleepiness that still clings to your bones or the sweetness of Kento's gesture, but you're feeling particularly sappy now.

Kento places a hand over your own, tangling your fingers together and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I love you more."

[matenrou-fan]

three seperate scenario of toki, jakurai, ichiro waking up really horny and slowly fucking their s/o? she is laying in front of them and they lift her leg to slip in from behind (but it's not anal lol!)

uhhh I am so so sorry idk any pthing about OM so i can't request :(

Samatoki, Jakurai, Ichiro with fem!s/o (+morning sex)

femreader, humping, fingering (receiving), rough sex;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Despite he's such an overprotective softie in relationships, there's also a pretty naughty side of him, so Samatoki never would be that ashamed of seeing some wet dreams that involve you, he's only enjoying it. But it's really rare when he wakes up that horny after such a good sleep.

-But it's actually neither the first nor last time he felt such desire after lewding you in dreams. If you sleep at this moment, he prefers to just go to the bathroom and calm himself down, but sometimes it's really too much and his own hand won't help. Just like today, a copy of you in his mind was just too bold in his fantasies.

-So Samatoki just move to your closer, hugging from behind. He probably should do the opposite, as the soft scent of your warm skin just makes his dick twitch more, but he can't, it's like his hands freeze around your waist the second he wraps his arms around your body.

-"Babe.. Babe, are you sleeping?" - A low, hoarse after night voice slowly wakes you up, and even while being so sleepy, you can't help but notice how hot it actually sounds. - "Heh, what with this smile? You already know what I want?"

-Of course you know, because as soon as you open your eyes and look at the pale face of your boyfriend, his hands lowered to your hip. Oh, and you can feel this pressure against your butt when he leans closer to your smaller figure.

-But no matter how horny Samatoki are, he wants to heat your mind too, playing with your body a little before actually pushing himself inside. His arms already know all your sensitive places, squeezing your nipples between fingers while his glans stroking your folds through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

-During casual sessions your boyfriend loves to make you the one to whine for more, yet today there's not that much patience in his nerves. So pretty soon, when his dick would slowly soak in your juices, Samatoki finally pulled down your shorts and slowly but surely thrust in till the very end.

-Getting too carried away is definitely one of the points in the list of bad habits of your boyfriend.. As he doesn't give a single fuck about how many responsibilities and tasks waits for him outside your shared bedroom, he wouldn't stop until you two get enough of each other bodies.

-And trust me, as soon as you start calling his name in such a desperate voice, all last thought would fade away from his mind as Samatoki just wants to keep pounding you senseless.

-For him, it's very unusual to suddenly feel such an unsuppressable urge, especially early in the morning, when he just wakes up and immediately starts thinking about you and your body, sleeping next to him.

-A usual morning routine for Jakurai is to get up and check his blood pressure and temperature, yet today there's another problem that needs to be solved - his half hardened dick, that keeps pulsing in his home shorts.

-He probably should just quickly take a shower and deal with his fantasies all alone? Yet even for someone with great patience and self-control as Jakurai, it's kinda hard to resist this wish to touch your shoulder or to lean closer to your smooth hair. The sweet aroma of your shampoo is so luring..

-Small, light kisses on the neck would quickly wake you up, and only after that Jakurai would cling closer, wrapping his hands around your waist. Some deep shame would tickle his chest, aren't he too old to be so needy? Yet it feels like words escape his lips faster than he was able to think about them properly.

-"Ah.. Good morning, my dear.. The morning has just begun, but I think I'm already falling for your charm again.." - your lover whispers right in your ear, sending electric waves of goosebumps down your spine. - "So I hope you will forgive me for such impudence.."

-Even in an internal frenzy, Jakurai so soft and loving, thinking about your pleasure even more than about his own, as he doesn't want to just use you. Despite waking up absolutely hungry for your body, there's an even bigger appetite for intimate emotions in his soul, the real connection..

-So everything would be gentle and passionate, as always when Jakurai is being a dom. Preparing you long and well with his slim fingers, while you pressing your back to his warm chest, mewling in pleasure.. Sweet nothings and small praises in your ear as he slowly slides inside, pushing your clenching walls.

-And of course so much attention to your lips, chest and clit, as he slowly starts trusting in, enjoying the wet tightness of your pussy. Only your ardent reaction through small whimpers and lazily, but needy movements of your hips makes his arousal stronger. Only your desire raises his desire to the highest point.

-How lucky you both are, to not have any work shifts today.. As it seems Jakurai wouldn't have enough of your adorable morning cumming face after just one round.

-Well.. Even in his pure mind sometimes can awoke a few naughty thoughts, especially when he can't control his mind and it shows him the deepest desires of his soul.

-And probably the one who would wake up first today would be you, as these desperate whimpers behind you get too loud, and his arms trembling so much as Ichiro cling closer to you, shyly calling your name through sweet dreams.

-How can you not tease him a little? Leaning back to press yourself to his shaking with deep, unsteady breaths, chest. Maybe whisper his name a few times too, while wiggling your hips a bit to grind back, rubbing against a hard twitching bulge in his pajama pants.

-"M.. S/o, s/o, I'm so close.." - a sudden loud gasp breaks from his chest as Ichiro finally wakes up with a nagging ache between his thighs and notices your sly grin. - "A-ah, s/o, g-good morning…! Did I wake you up…?"

-He always feels so ashamed when you catch him like that! Yet sometimes it feels like his dick gets even harder in such situations, happy to finally get more attention. And the way you coo at your boyfriend, willing to help with such a shameful urge drew him to follow this primal instinct.

-The dream is so realistic but never enough, and he's too hungry for just the warmth of your skin and the sweet odours of your body. So for a few minutes Ichiro just wants to feel you more, to calm down his tickling mind through hot kisses and libidinous foreplay with your chest, while his dick keeps humping against your hips so fast and needy.

-And oh how amusing yet arousing his groans sound when his trembling hand finally lifts your leg, allowing him to slip in. For a moment he just froze in place, as he always does after getting inside you fully, just enjoying how pulses of your walls wrapped around his whole length.

-And after that.. Some unsteady, sloppy movements, that quickly speed up as Ichiro whines more and more right in your ear just how tight you are early in the morning. Just how good it feels, to be greeted with your delicious pussy like that. Best wake up in his life.

-God.. Just how lucky you're that both Jiro and Saburo stayed overnight in their friends houses, as these loud slaps of hips to hips and weak but loud high pitched moans would be heard all over the house for a whole morning today.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Kishibe x reader [ SYNOPSIS ] A late night visitor comes to you seeking comfort. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.9k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, hurt/comfort, y/n is a civilian, alcohol (duh), dubcon (he's drunk and y/n is sober), descriptions of violence, love bites, his dick is pierced, teasing, vaginal sex, creampie, cum eating, oral sex, not beta'd and there's barely a plot lol.

It was three in the morning when you heard a gentle rapping at your front door. You had fallen asleep on your couch, dreaming of pleasantries. A hearty discontented moan emanated from your chest. Not answering was your best option, but in your sleepy haze your judgment lapsed.

You swiftly opened the door and groaned. “Oh, so you’re alive.”

You stared at the dark-haired man slumped in your doorway. His tie was loose and limp, shirt half-tucked in. Disheveled didn’t even begin to describe his appearance. Not that you were much better. You answered the door pantsless and in a boxy t-shirt with the hem hacked off.

“Disappointed?” Kishibe slurred.

“Maybe.”

“Too bad,” he said as he handed you a bottle of whiskey. “I brought an offering though.”

You side-stepped and let the wet cat of a man into your home. He leaned against the wall and kicked off his shoes. He looked like shit, but in a strangely appealing way.

“Let’s not pretend that’s for me,” you said as you set the bottle down on your cherry wood table.

He draped his arms over your shoulders and nuzzled his face in your hair. He reeked of cigarettes and sweat.

“You smell nice.”

“You smell like shit.”

The two of you stood in silence, your door a gaping mouth. You wanted to shut it, but you didn’t want to disturb the man clinging to you. You stood there for a minute before you gently pushed Kishibe off of you.

“Want to tell me why you’re here?”

“No,” he said, tone sardonic. “C’mon. You know I hate sleeping alone.”

“And how is that my problem?”

“Because you love me.” You guffawed at his brazen claim. He adjusted his tune. “You like me... You tolerate me.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “You can stay, but you have to shower. There’s no way in hell you’re getting in my bed like this.”

“Be nice to me. I almost died. Don’t you wanna baby me?”

“Not really.”

“Fine. I’ll shower,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. He walked past you heading towards your bathroom. “But you better let me sleep next to you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“And we’re sharing a blanket this time,” he said, dropping his shirt on the ground.

It looked like a piece of crumpled paper. You picked it up and tossed it in your laundry basket. You would make sure it’d be clean by morning.

You heard your shower turn on and an incredibly pleased moan. Your breath got caught in your throat as you were inundated with perverse ponderings.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Fuck!”

The bathroom door was ajar. You slinked over to it and pushed it open before sitting on the ground. The steam surrounded you. You looked over at his pants, frowning as you noticed the blood stains.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Just mentally, nothing physical.”

“What about the bl—”

“Someone else’s,” he replied flatly.

The need to baby him grew stronger by the minute. You wanted to pull back the shower curtain and hug him.

“Don’t worry about it.” His words were hardly reassuring. “I’m used to it.”

You never knew how to respond to things like that. It was always a casual deluge of nightmares when he spoke. You had taken to listening rather than trying to solve solutionless problems. That must have been what he liked about you.

“I mean it was the first time I’d ever seen someone’s skin get sucked off their body, but it could’ve been worse.”

“For real?!”

“Yeah, like a vacuum. Poor guy died screaming for his mother. And then the devil wore his skin like a suit.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Nah.”

“No. Seriously. That’s fucked up.”

He peeked out from behind the shower curtain, dark hair obscuring his eyes.

“Are you feeling bad for me?”

“Yes!”

“Good,” he laughed, turning off the shower. “Can you bring me a towel?”

You wordlessly got up and dug through your linen closet for your softest towel. If anyone else had treated you that way you would have kicked them out. But you knew it was a defense mechanism; Kishibe’s actions had context so your sympathy was easy to draw out.

You returned to see him standing on your bathroom rug with his head hung low, hands on the countertop. Immediately you noticed his cock, thick and long, and the silver barbell piercing the tip. He perked up at the sound of your footsteps. You put the towel on top of his head and dried his hair, acting as if you weren’t transfixed by his considerable length.

“You don’t have to do this.”

You smiled. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to baby you?”

“I did, didn’t I…”

You wrapped the towel around his broad shoulders and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving him to the rest. Your bed was already unmade, sheets still soaked with last night’s sleep. You smoothed out the wrinkles so it didn’t look quite as chaotic. There was no real reason for it; it’s not as if he’d notice or even care. But still you felt compelled. He deserved placidity in small gestures. 

You glanced over your shoulder only to be startled by his presence. The towel was barely clinging to his waist. His body was flecked with bruises of varying color and size.

“I thought you said you only got hurt mentally.”

He looked down at his battered body. “These are old.”

He yawned and breezed past you, cozying himself in your bedding.

“A damp towel in my bed? Really?”

He pulled it off of himself and dropped it on the floor. You rolled your eyes and crawled into bed. He spooned you immediately, burying his face in your neck. It felt too intimate. Usually you had his clothed body cocooned in his own blanket.

“You finally gonna let me fuck you?”

Your stomach dropped and words eluded you. Sometimes his brazen nature took you by surprise.

“Or are you committed to your long con?”

“I’m not conning you,” you scoffed. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

He held you tighter. “Please take advantage of me. This may be your last chance.”

“Shut up. Get some sleep.”

“You used to be so nice.”

You were vaguely offended. “I am nice. I’m very nice in fact.”

“No. You’re cruel,” he said before planting a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Are you not sleeping in my bed? I let you use my favorite towel. I’m letting you press your dick up against my ass.”

Kishibe paused. “Well of course you're gonna sound nice when you lay it out like that.”

Silence enveloped the room. You shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you. He slipped his hand under your shirt and cupped your breast. Rather than push it away you let it linger. It drifted down your abdomen before settling underneath your underwear, his fingertips centimeters from your clit. He began to rut his hips, hard cock rubbing against you and leaving a trail of precum in its wake.

“Wait, are you actually letting me do this?”

You groaned. “Yeah. Don’t make me regret it.”

He rubbed small circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. Your heart started to pound. You exhaled deeply and tried to maintain composure. Your underwear were already sticky with your arousal. You hated being so easy, so quick to fall apart at the seams.

His fingers swept down your folds, coating them in your fluids.

“I can’t believe you’re this wet already.”

“What else am I supposed to be?!”

You looked back at him and he smirked. You rolled over onto your back away from his grasp, pretending he actually hurt your feelings. You pouted, hoping you’d make him feel a little bad. He scooched closer to you.

“You’re a shitty actor,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow.

His eyes were fixed on your chest, how the fabric did little to obscure your hard nipples. The intensity of his gaze weighed on you.

“It’s impolite to stare.”

“When did I ever say I was polite?” Kishibe asked, getting on top of you. He pulled up your shirt. “You know me better than that.”

He pushed your underwear to the side and delved his rough fingers inside you, keeping his thumb pressed up against your clit. His lips were glued to your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing your skin. He began groping you with his free hand, pinching your nipple. A string of moans tumbled from your mouth.

You arched your back and thrust against his fingers. They felt divine, but you wanted to feel full. You couldn’t help but think about how his cock would feel throbbing inside your wet cunt.

“Need your cock,” you choked out, embarrassed you couldn’t get a full sentence out.

“Is that so?”

He slowly removed his fingers and didn’t hesitate to pull down your underwear. He teased your cunt with his tip, the metal tickling your tender flesh. It felt so good, but his pace frustrated you. You wanted all of him now. You didn’t want to be patient. He should have known that. You whined pathetically in protest.

Seemingly taking pity on you he plunged his cock inside you. Your hands fell to your slides and gripped the sheets. His thrusts were deep and filled with longing. You almost felt bad for turning him down so many times.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he bottomed out.

He looked down at you and grabbed ahold of your jaw. Your breath hitched as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, radiating passion. You felt so wanted, so needed. You were putty in his hands. Your body quivered in the shadow of his.

He broke the kiss. “You want more?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babbled.

He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. Each of his thrusts were punctuated with a throaty moan. You didn’t think his cock could go deeper into you, but he was more than willing to prove you every shade of wrong. Your skin was hot. You couldn’t stop panting. You felt like he was going to split you in two and it was the definition of blissful.

You were holding on by a thread, losing yourself as your orgasm swirled around you.

“Where do you want it?” He groaned.

“Wa—want what?”

“My cum.”

“Inside. Inside,” you panted.

A shot of warm cum filled your cunt. He fucked it deeper and deeper inside you. He dropped your leg and pulled out. You could have hit him for stopping when you were so close to climaxing. Just as you went to say something he began to lap his cum out of your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he sucked on your clit, stubble brushing up against your thighs.

You sighed as your orgasm crescendoed, moans filling the room. You rutted against his face, unable to obscure your ecstasy. He looked up at you, ardor filled eyes meeting yours. He gave your clit one last long lick before kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Th—that was… I mean, wow,” you said, struggling to express your gratitude.

He sat up, looking a little dazed. Poor thing. You knew better than to try to move so soon after coming.

“You going somewhere?” You teased.

“Huh?”

You reached out to him. “Lay back down,” you cooed.

Your words were more than enough to convince him. He cuddled up next to you, resting his head on your chest. You stroked his still damp hair and closed your eyes.

“You know… I’d be up for another round in a bit.”

You waited for a response, but none came.

“Kishibe.”

He groaned and you took that as your cue to quiet down. You would pester him about riding his face in the morning.

Here's "part 2".

[late-to-the-party-81]

Contentment

AN: So here is something a little different inspired by this ask from my sweet Nicoline

@nicoline1998enilocin asked: Hi! 💙 I hope I'm still on time to request something for your 1.5K follower celebration! This idea has been swirling around my mind since seeing your message that they're open and of course I forgot about it with my scatterbrain. 🫠 I don't know if you've ever written anything like this (in case you have, it's okay to ignore this message), but may I request some soft/slow morning smut with Loki? Perhaps with some of his magic included as well? Before I forget, congratulations on reaching 1.5K followers, and I wish you many many more because your work is amazing and you deserve it 💙

Unfortunately there is no magic in this, other than the magic that is just Loki, but I hope you still enjoy. You also get a two for one - the second part is a very lyrical drabble, from the Reader POV, which came to me first, but I then re-wrote from Loki’s POV to add more detail and in case people didn’t like that style. Click here to find it.

Not beta’d

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Summary: With a new day comes a new chance for Loki to show you what you mean to him. He can’t wait until you wake up.

He was lying behind you, as usual, one strong arm slung over your waist, holding the bottom half of you flush against him. He hadn’t wanted to disturb you, so hadn’t moved, just watched as the invading light and retreating shadows cast shifting stories over your skin. One persistent shaft of sunlight had encroached so far that it lay across your shoulder and under its warm touch you stirred.

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Word count: 1k

CW: Sleepy Sex, Soft Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Emotional Sex, Fluff, Loki PoV

Loki didn’t know how long he’d been lying awake. The colour inside the room had shifted from black, to deep purple, to pink and then to orange as the sun rose outside the window. However, time meant nothing to him when he was with you.

He was lying behind you, as usual, one strong arm slung over your waist, holding the bottom half of you flush against him. He hadn’t wanted to disturb you, so hadn’t moved, just watched as the invading light and retreating shadows cast shifting stories over your skin. One persistent shaft of sunlight had encroached so far that it lay across your shoulder and under its warm touch you stirred.

Loki’s lips twitched up into a smile. You were waking and soon he would see the brightness of your eyes as you welcomed the new day.

“Good morning, darling,” he whispered softly in your ear and he looked on, enamoured, as your eyelids and nose scrunched up as your brain tried to cling onto your fading slumber. 

Softly, he brushed his lips over your shoulder blade, wishing that his lips could leave marks that would stay adorning your skin for all to see. He shifted the hand that lay on your waist, his fingers gently stroking over the soft skin of your abdomen. At first you had tried to hide this part of yourself from him, self-conscious about the rolls and marks to be found there, especially in comparison to his own defined abdominals. However, he’d let you know in a myriad of ways since then that he loved every single inch of you and that any changes you wished to make to your body should be for yourself, and not out of some misguided notion of what appealed to him. Every version of you was perfect.

However, as much as he normally loved to worship your body with slow reverence, the time he had spent waiting for you to wake had made him impatient, and Loki slid his hand further down your body, skimming between your folds. You sighed at his touch, your hips rolling instinctually. You rocked, still half asleep, forward onto his hand and then back onto his erection, where it grazed your ass. Shivers rocked Loki’s body, but as impatient as he was, he could still manage to wait, just a little longer.

Loki knew your body so well now - knew just how and where to touch you, and it wasn’t long until his tender strokes had your cunt gushing. Part of him wished he could see it, but this would do for now. He would savour the whimpers that broke from your lips as his fingers finally dipped inside of you, his thumb taking over the stimulation to your clit. He rolled his wrist and curled his fingers as you continued to rock forwards and backwards. Your channel clutched at his fingers and one of your hands now clung onto his forearm. He kissed your shoulder once more and your body tensed then juddered under his touch, your head still turned slightly into the pillow, absorbing some of the sounds of your ecstasy. 

He smiled to himself as you drew in deep breaths, but then Loki turned you to lie on your back. He covered your body with his own, his hips slotting between your thighs as though you were two matched puzzle pieces. His hair, dark as a raven’s wing, tumbled over his shoulder and he looked down at you, marvelling at the way your eyes were fixed upon his, your adoration clearly telegraphed on your face. You only shifted your gaze when his tongue poked out between his lips and he snorted in amusement, knowing exactly where your mind was going. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d indulge that particular fantasy of yours later on, but his patience was exhausted. He needed you! Now! 

Loki lined himself up with your puffy cunt and you spread your legs even further, tilting up your hips as he slowly sank inside. He let out a groan in time with yours and enjoyed the way you clung to him as he started to move his own hips, slow and sensuous. Bracing himself on one forearm, Loki trailed his lips across your jaw and throat, nipping at your skin, while his free hand roamed over every inch of your body he could reach. The breathy sighs you made in response were music to his ears.

“My beautiful darling,” he cooed in your ear. “Just feel it, my love. Feel how much I adore you.”

The way you moved under him, incapable of coherent speech, made him feel both powerful and possessive. He had done this to you and only him. No-one else would make you feel the way he does. No-one else would be privy to the sounds you make as pleasure sweeps you away. They are all his. A Prince of Asgard he may be, but he was the King of your body, and he would make no apologies.

You trembled and whined and he kept his steady pace, despite how difficult it became. The way your body clenched around him was driving Loki closer to his own peak, but he needed you to precede him.

“Let go for me, dove,” he told you and, the good girl that you were, you did, your body seizing around him, milking his cock, as you tumbled headfirst into bliss. A few more strokes and he could hold out no more, following you with his own cry, his hips now jerking without rhythm as he spilled into you.

Somehow he managed to roll to the side, pulling you with him, your arms and legs entwined. He held you close, his heart feeling so full he was worried it might burst. He pressed kisses to your forehead. Your nose. Your chin.

“My angel. My dove. You are the centre of my world. You saved me, darling.”

He mumbled his words as you looked up at him, eyes glazed and cloudy with a combination of residual pleasure and sleep.

He loved you so much. You made him content.

Tag list: @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @buttercupcookies-blog, @goldylions, @crayongirl-linz,