#his fighting style is so smooth ugh

[mikakuna]

jason telling black mask he smells and needs to take a bath in his arkham knight dlc is something i didn't know i needed <3

[mingtinysworld]

Hi there!

I saw your requests are open and I thought, maybe just give it a try 🙈 I've read "addicted" by you, and even though I don't really enjoy reading smut, I do love your writing style.

Sooo, would you be up to write something fluff/angst with Mingi or Wooyoung, and him fighting over something stupid with his girlfriend (reader) and she leaving the dorm/kq building/wherever they fought? Maybe she even turns off the phone or smith to be alone for a bit, but in the end they talk about it and everything is all fluff again? 🥺🙈

If you're not up for writing something like this, don't hesitate to let me know though, no need to force yourself to write it, okay? ☺️

Lovely greetings, Kat ☺️

Hi Kat!!

Thank you for this request, I love it a lot hehe. I can totally imagine Mingi in this situation and I’m a sucker for angst to fluff ugh. I hope you like this! It’s honestly hard for me to just do fluff, but I hope I did it justice and it’s not cringy haha. Thank you for the love and hope you have an awesome day mwah - J

Time for me

Pairing: song mingi x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, angst

Summary: you and your boyfriend Mingi come to a misunderstanding and end up hurting each other. He tries to make up with you, trying to prove his never ending love.

You sway to the rhythm of the music, heart pounding from the loud boom of the bass. You’re fairly sober, only having taken two shots of vodka so far, still feeling so bright. So many bodies surround you that you have a hard time finding your friends.

Only one hour ago, you decided that you needed a night out. You called your closest friends, Seonghwa and Yunho, and made plans immediately. You knew the two even before your boyfriend Mingi. He gets along with them quite well, but you’d classify them as more of your best friends.

After a couple more hours, the two boys round you up and you decide to call it a night. They very kindly drop you off at your shared apartment with Mingi, and say their good nights. You turn back to the door and use your key to open up, slightly stumbling from the alcohol in your system.

As you enter, you catch sight of Mingi sitting on the loveseat by the window. His leg is propped up on his knee and his arms are crossed. You would be lying if you said he didn’t look intimidating. You set down your purse and phone on the counter and proceed to take your heels off.

“Hi baby, what’s up?” You say casually.

He scoffs as the side of his mouth goes up bitterly. “Not much, my girlfriend just decided to go out without letting me know, and I’ve been sitting here waiting, for a text perhaps. But what do I get? A fucking update from Seonghwa on his story.”

Your face goes pale from his harsh tone. You honestly were so out of it you didn’t even think of texting Mingi. Figuring you were safe enough with your two friends, you completely forgot about it. Guilt fills you and you look at him apologetically.

“I’m so sorry Min, I totally forgot to text you. I really just needed a night out and I was safe, I promise. You know how great Seonghwa and Yunho are.”

He stands up and is now towering over you, stormy eyes looking at you intently. “You always do this y/n, always leaving me for those two. I’m your boyfriend, so why are you spending more time with them?”

His words surprise you. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous that I’m hanging out with my friends? Mingi, you know damn well that I’m allowed to do that, I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult.” At your words his eyebrows furrow and you have to resist the urge to smooth it down.

“I’m not fucking jealous,” he hisses out. “I would just love it if my girlfriend kept me informed and didn’t act like a total slut all the time.” Immediately he regrets his words. He registers the immense hurt in your eyes and tries to reach out for you. You take in a shuddering breath and step back. Your eyes fill with tears and you speak with a trembling lip.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” You choke out.

You storm out before Mingi can get a word out. Almost instantly your phone comes to life, flashing Mingi’s picture on the screen. You can’t believe he has the nerve to call you right now.

Torn between sad and angry, you’re left with only one option; to go to your best friends.

You show up with puffy cheeks and eyes, harshly wiping away any tears that escape. Yunho opens the door and is immediately filled with concern. He pulls you into his embrace and holds you for what feels like an eternity.

Once you calm down, you’re able to tell him all that happened. Both him and Seonghwa are filled with anger at the way Mingi acted towards you. After some reflection, you realize your wrong doing as well. You should’ve texted him, letting him know you would be out. You also should’ve put in more effort to spend time with him. But that does not excuse him and his harmful words.

You look down at your black screen, having turned it off long ago. You couldn’t handle his insistent calls and frantic texts. You spend the night at their shared apartment, not having the energy to go back to Mingi at the moment.

In the morning, you wake up with a tired ache in your body. You head to the kitchen, wanting to get some food in you. You see the boys sitting at the counter, looking at a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” You ask.

They look up with a somber expression. “It’s a note from Mingi, he must’ve left it early morning.” You take it from Yunho’s hands and read it over.

Y/n, I’m so so sorry. I had absolutely no right to call you that. And I’m so sorry that I acted so childishly. I know you love me, and would never do anything to show otherwise. Please come home so we can talk about this. I promise this will never happen again. I love you, a lot. Come home baby - Mingi

Your eyes tear up at the note, and you decide to go back home. You give the boys a grateful hug, and head out. As you near your door, your heart keeps pounding loudly. You swallow nervously and knock, feeling awkward in using your key. The door opens, revealing a disheveled Mingi.

His face drops into relief and he engulfs you with his arms. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” He whispers into your hair. You ball up the end of his shirt into your fists, holding on so tight.

“I’m sorry too Min. I didn’t realize I was spending such little time with you. I want to fix that, and recommit. You deserve better.” You say with a sniffle.

He smiles at you fondly, and runs a loving hand through your hair. “You deserve everything my love.” He then kisses you with a gentle hand on your waist. He leaves featherlight touches across your bare arms, leaving goosebumps behind. You decide to stay in his warm embrace, reveling in the fact that Mingi is yours and you are his.

[snexy-the-snail]

I'm about to make this everyone's problem

When their father had invited the bastard Triton did his best to avoid the quote unquote bonding, that Poseidon insisted that they participated in. More annoying no matter how many barbs and comments he made towards the boy he would not respond the way he expected an arrogant hero would.  

He didn’t know much of Perseus, just some titles that fish would gossip about and in general that he was the bastard of the sea. The kingdom referred to him as the littlest prince which absolutely made his blood boil. Perseus had no idea of what responsibilities, and such came with the title. His anger continued to roll through him. The night was truly the only time he could get some distance from the stubborn little brat. 

It was the third day since the boy had arrived and yet he found his nerves to already be shot. “I cannot believe father would bring him here.” he seethes under his breath strolling in the garden. Annoyingly enough the little terror had found comfort in the exotic sea plants so most of his strolls were interrupted by insistent questions of the most common knowledge. He was like a guppy in that respect, full of gaps of knowledge. He rolls his eyes smoothing his hair back, letting it down from the slicked back hair style he had in. He was just starting to relax when a piercing scream jolted him up, trident materializing in his hand before he could further process where it was coming from. 

Perseus. 

Someone DARED to attack the child in the palace?  

Triton grits his teeth as he shoots through the water, pushing himself to go faster, clouds of fish outside the boys balcony, they swarm him once he was in sight, pleading rapidly to help the little lord, to save him- the door blasts open swinging off their hinges. He was ready for danger, for an assailant, but there was..nothing. Just Perseus writhing on his bed, screaming and gasping for breath. His face was twisted like he was experiencing torture of the greatest kind.  

“Perseus? Truly a nightmare causes you to wail?” He hisses out tryout, to hide the fact his limbs trembled with relief. No assailant trying to assassinate the little bastard. The boy didn’t wake so he crept closer, in fact he was surprised when that made it worse. Celestial bronze suddenly illuminating the room ripping through the covers with ease and in turn his flesh, the sword slicing, golden ichor joining the glow. He lets several curses out, yanking the weapon from the boy. “Wake! Perseus!” He snaps, shaking the boys shoulders, grunting when the boys legs make contact with his middle. 

Ugh mortals and their ridiculous habits... well Father wasn’t here, and frankly he could not handle hearing the boys wails. Why not put the flailing body somewhere safe enough to make him relax? “You’re ridiculous, absolutely- there are guppies younger than you who can settle after nightmares” He grumbles to himself, shifting his size, keeping the wriggling boy in a loose fist. He flinches when Perseus fights harder, still unable to wake as it seemed, teeth sinking into his flesh as the boy tried his hardest to escape.  

It was as if he was fighting for his life... A sense of unease slowly settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched the small thing nearly take a chunk out of his hand, golden ichor clouding the water as Perseus clenched his jaw tighter. He didn’t look like an arrogant child at the moment, no, he looked like a desperate child.  

What had he gone through? 

What had his father neglected to tell him about his half brother? 

Before the boy could continue to try and escape via chomping on his hand Triton brings the small form up to his face, shoving him in to his mouth quickly once Perseus let go to get a breath. There was a surprised kick from Perseus, Triton not even bothering to give time to adjust before he swallowed thickly. Personally, he didn’t want to experience what the boy would do to escape this..not only that he was concerned about his teeth cutting the frankly delicate boy. Unconsciously he runs his tongue over his teeth, wincing at the sharp points that greeted him.  

He sighs as he feels the lump travel down his throat and soon a heavy weight spills into his stomach. He closes his eyes with a sense of nostalgia washing over him. How long had it been since he had such a small life tucked inside his being like this? The thrashing weight settled nearly instantly, as if a switch was flipped, Perseus stilling.  

The corners of his lips quirk up into a small smile, hesitantly resting a hand over his middle. There was no indication that Perseus was even tucked away into his stomach. Just smooth skin concealing his younger brother. He settled rather..nicely inside. “An absolute guppy, that’s what you are you little brat.” He murmurs, blinking when he feels the boy nuzzle into the stomach wall. Small hands pressing against the flesh as he tried to get settled. A bloom of fondness spreads throughout his chest at the motion. So small and yet... 

“This does not change a thing between us. Remember, that you are a bastard.” 

There was no answer, unless the little whine was one. A small chucckle bubbles out of him, trying not to move too much to avoid jostling the small occupant inside. It was almost concerning how quickly Perseus had settled once inside. He would need to figure out what exactly caused his younger brother to fly into such a state. 

He waves his hand, the Ichor that had spilled clearing from the water at the motion. He looks to his hand, the bite having healed already, as well as the slash the boy had managed to get in. A warrior for sure..how old was the boy again? He lightly rubs his middle, yet against surprised when the boys weight settled against where his hand rested.  

There was a lot he didn’t know about his brother...perhaps he should explore that.

[toxycodone]

Hi hi hi I’m working on clothing designs for your sona and I want to run it by you before putting it to paper (digital canvas. whatever)!! I don’t think his clothing style is really his so much as it is Thistle’s, would that be accurate? And Thistle as we all know is stuck back in the past with his little jester suit and boots that are also pants. I’m thinking an Old Kingdom style with the puffy sleeves and neck ruffs, but still loose enough that he can move freely and kill and sneak. Also some bloodstains. Since he’s your sona I wanna check that I’m on the right track 👀

AGREED. Oh my God I honestly didn’t think of it that much BUT I’ve read all the extras on thistles style bc I just. I love his silly little fits. Awe.

BUT THIS IS SO BIG BRAINED?? Like Thistle would play dress up with him (after all he has to look presentable to be in the presence of Delgal and other royalty)

But he hates it. Y’know like? When you try to dress a pet in an outfit and they fight you on it before begrudgingly accepting it? And once you turn around they’re clawing it to pieces? That’s my Sona.

AND 100% Thistle ends up deciding on something like. Loose enough to where they don’t seem to mind and they leave it be, but he just accepts that wears and tears are just commonplace. Just begrudgingly is like “ugh”. And spends his time huffing and smoothing down his fur and outfit when they have downtime

[juniperhillpatient]

"Jet" Re-Watch

I'll be honest, this episode is one of those that I've seen A LOT. So, it's not like there were any surprise takeaways. Jet is one of my favorite characters & "Jet" is one of my favorite episodes to re-watch. So, let's talk about Jet - the character - & why I love him. And let's also talk about why I have a love-hate relationship with his titular episode.

This is the very first episode of my re-watch where I'm going to.....ugh. criticize the narrative framing...

Look, I love a sympathetic anti-hero & that's at least part of why I love Jet - anyone who knows me knows I am drawn to morally gray characters, flawed people with good intentions, traumatized villains who see themselves as the hero - & that's a huge part of why I love Jet. But I think it's doing a disservice to critical engagement with the material to NOT acknowledge the way Jet is framed as the "scary evil Earth Kingdom rebel fighting back the "wrong" way." This episode felt very much like propaganda not to trust people who are TOO rebellious or TOO angry at their oppressors.

Remember kids, violent rebellion is never the answer even when you're being violently oppressed. Anyone who says otherwise probably wants to murder babies!

Sokka getting to be the grumpy mom of the group is always fun & I gotta feel bad for the guy. It can't be easy keeping these kids in check when they're always so eager to be reckless & don't even take him seriously or respect him! And poor Sokka was right in the end...And was way less of an asshole about it than I would've been after all the crap he took!

Jet's entrance is just so badass. I absolutely loved the Freedom Fighters coming in & immediately kicking ass & winning over both Katara & Aang. And also I'm sorry but I must say it. The Avatar fandom is so sick & twisted & wrong for everyone fighting over if Katara should be with her little brother-like friend or Zuko when Jet is RIGHT there. From the bottom of my heart, I'll never forgive the Avatar fandom for having such bad taste just LOOK AT THEM

What is this....Sad......................alright, okay, okay, I'm done.

ANYWAY!!! Katara's instant chemistry with Jet is so real & I love how she got insta-heart-eyes. I love you Simptara. Girl, can't you even tell when your episode of the week love interest is introduced anime style as a person you obviously can't trust? So fucking funny to me. Like, Katara, haven't you ever seen a single episode of television? Jet is handsome & smooth & charming & he has wheat in his mouth. Of course he's gonna break your heart baby girl, it's right there in the narrative framing.

Also, Jet is a manipulative little shit & I love him. I think a big reason Jet gets a lot of hate ASIDE from the NaRrAtIvE fRaMiNg issues is that he IS in fact very calculated & manipulative. I think it's worth noting though, that the Freedom Fighters look to him as a "good leader." Jet is clearly the kind of person that is good with people, & good at leading others as well as being mature for his age. So, he's taken on the mantle of leadership with these kids. Yes, he is manipulative & he mugs sad old Fire Nation colonizers, but like, he was given the mantle of leadership at EIGHT YEARS OLD after watching his parents die y'all. Cut him some slack for not having the soundest moral compass, jeez.

Like, what can I really say here? No, you're right guys, an eight-year-old who witnessed his village being destroyed & his parents dying & then was left to protect other orphaned kids should TOTALLY understand that #NotAllFireNationPeople are bad. Obviously, that's a reasonable expectation.

Anyway, Jet's plan to flood the village is very....interesting. I've seen it discussed endlessly whether there are ex-Fire Nation generals in that village, whether the old man Jet mugged was an ex-Fire Nation general, whether there were Earth Kingdom citizens living there or not, & well...it's all just VERY vague. The show doesn't tell us because I guess the point is that "murder is bad." Which...sure, I guess. Still would've been nice to understand more details?

A big anti-Jetara argument that I get pretty much every time I say I ship them is that he broke her heart & made her cry & also wanted to commit mass murder. To that I say.....where's your sense of drama? Jet touching Katara's face as she turns away crying, horrified by what she might've helped him accomplish is just good drama. I don't know what to tell you. Have fun shipping boring things where the characters have no complexity & only ever agree with each other I guess.....

Sokka does deserve some major props in this episode, I'll say that. He put up with pretty much constant shit from Katara & Aang both, he was right in the end about Jet's plans NOT being something Katara & Aang would like, AND he managed to warn the village about the flood. So yeah, props to Sokka.

Anyway, this "re-watch takeaway" post....ended up being.... just...me defending Jet & saying Jetara rights. Whoops. Oh well, I feel like that's a fitting takeaway for this episode :)

[night-faye]

11) You can do this. WE can do this." Literally same speech MK gave Macky before. I LOVE this whole scene its such a good speech, so much emotion and inspo and power and heart and soul. A lot more solid than the one against Inky. That's what a scrap of mental stability will do to ya! Wukong fights so gracefully and cool, and he gets a HUG and the smile at MK and Mei <3 <3 he is everything 🥺 so many feelings in this monkey.

12) Macky's "ugh this guy" parallels Mei's "ugh this guy" to Ao Lie XD the way they draw him in crayon is always so funny. just hanging, getting dragged along, or brooding turned away from everyone. also MAGIC TAXI MACKY lol just dumping everybody, heyyy did your magic ears hear them coming 👀 *magic school bus theme song plays* always gotta go on a not normal life changing field trip with Macky! snuck in a bit of Toph from ATLA there. It's so good seeing him on the side of the heroes. He's so dedicated when he wants to be.

13) "I will test the limits of Sun Wukong's immortality." COLD. "I don't know how you stomach it, brother. The Six Earred Macaque fighting alongside his own replacements!" my favorite icecream flavor is "bad guys mocking Macky in a way that digs deep to make him appear angsty and pathetic like the audience has to gasp at this or something yet shows a prominent character strength. his loyalty. he don't CARE." also HIS FIGHTING STYLE IS SO COOL SLIPPING AND SLIDING ALL OVER THE ROCKS. So smooth, doing a super spin, sliding like the cool kids do down the stair railing and diving into a shadow portal <3 YES he called Macky out with that line 😂 I can never get sick of people exposing Macky with the most dramatic lines ever its too gosh darn fun, like they usually save this kind of taunting for the hero. but Macky is our special snowflake. it VERY MUCH has a reputation as a writing trope for snowflake MCs. also Macky's surprise at seeing Mei angry and fight <3 team ups yay, get used to your new found family Macaroon. After so long, Macky finally gets to speak up and say how much he hates Peng ^_^ good for him! and bc it's Macky's shiny new personality, WHO HOLDS GRUDGES. "You always were the most cowardly of the bunch." SAVAGE. CATASTROPHIC EVENT. five dead. 2 injured.

14) "If you will not kneel before your Emperor, you will p E r i SH before your Emperor." WUKONG'S FACE PLS HE'S JUST A LIL GUY HE DIDN'T ASK YOU ALL TO BE SO CRAZY ABOUT HIM. "I should have never trusted the Monkey King. The False Sage Equal to NOTHING." COLD. FRIGID COLD. CHILLS. 👀

15) THIS IS IT. These are the exact scenes that parallel for the 3rd time Wukong protecting MK twice, from Macky and from the Ink Spear, AND is in fact, exactly what Macky showed in Shadow Play because it was MK floating exactly like this same pose in his monkey form!! You go foreshadowing Macadoodle lol.

16) MK's "well alright then." is a response to Inky's "then prove us wrong."

[omgreally]

I’ve been reading mandos intergalactic taxi service and UGH✨💕 the pining and fluff with the intimacy smut is just chefs kiss your writing style is amazing🤌🏽✨ I’ve been in such a Din mood lately, could your write like a confession drabble where the reader and din are pining for each other and din is dropping hints but the reader is like really not a hint taker lol pretty please with a cherry on top 😭💕 smut or fluff your choice I know you’d write it so well!!

BLESS YOUR HEART @liltangerineart and thank you! Next chapter of Taxi Service should be up tomorrow I hope!

In the meantime I hope you like this? Not a confession as such and more, uh, top!Mando than I intended, but he is bad at dropping hints. I like to think he would be very...straightforward ��

Din Djarin/F!Reader - E - 1624 words - Oblivious!Reader, Infatuated!Din, frustrated yearning, angst and, of course, smut.

It's getting ridiculous.

He is a Mandalorian, one of the most fabled, the most feared warriors in the galaxy. Rumour and danger follow him as he charts a path through the galaxy that blazes bright, leaving behind myth and legend - people whispering things like 'I heard he killed a whole troop with his hands tied' and 'I heard he was eight feet tall, made of steel'.

He is a Mandalorian, who has never had to rely on anybody but himself - and yet here he is, sweating beneath his cowl whenever you brush too close, trying too hard to inhale the scent of you through his helmet's filters, memorizing the sound of your laugh.

It's like he's a foundling again - uncertain, insecure, nervous. And they’re not butterflies in the pit of his stomach - they’re bullets from an ancient slugthrower weapon, and he can taste metal at the back of his tongue whenever he tries to talk to you.

“Do you have someone, back home?” A clumsy overture, as obvious as it is stupid; Din winces beneath the helm but you don’t seem to notice - you just shake your head and shrug.

“No. Just me. I wouldn’t have left otherwise.” Loyal, he thinks, and the bullets in his stomach sting just that little bit harder.

He tries asking you more about yourself. How you became a bounty hunter. How many weapons you’ve handled. The different kinds of ships you’ve flown. Places you’ve been. But you never give up anything truly personal about yourself - you’re a cypher.

Maybe that’s why the Mandalorian finds himself strangely drawn to you.

He doesn’t know how to navigate this - not really. He has no experience with this kind of thing. It’s always been about the next quarry, the next job, and then it was about the kid, and now…

And now he’s stuck.

He wants to hit something, break something, feel the impact of his fists against flesh and bone. He settles for balling them up whenever you’re around, biting his tongue, and waiting til later to jerk himself off in pathetic, clench-jawed silence in the refresher.

“You slept late,” you point out the next morning as he emerges, stiff in more than one way, from his bunk.

“Couldn’t sleep last night,” he says, and he’s so tired, so frustrated that he adds, gruffly: “Bed was too empty.”

“Probably need more pillows,” you muse as you wander off to the kitchenette. “Cup of caf?”

“Extra strong,” he grunts as he leans a shoulder to the wall, and you’re oblivious to his glower.

“Coming right up.” A minute later, you press a mug into his hand. “I’ll leave you to it. No need to go hide, I’ll go find a bulkhead to look at while you take your helmet off.”

You grin at him, and he stares at you. You’re just about to turn away when he reaches up, and you go still, your smile slackening in shock as he thumbs the release latch under his chin.

The helm’s pneumatic seal hisses as it lifts, just enough so he can get the rim of his mug up and to his lips. He takes a long, slow pull, and while his vision is eclipsed by the rim of the helmet at the moment, he knows you haven’t left.

As he expects, you’re still there - staring at him as he lowers his helm back into place. Your mouth is even slightly open - lips parted - and he watches the dart of your tongue as you wet them before swallowing hard.

“I’m just...I’m just gonna,” you say, abortingly, and start to back away. You jump as your shoulder hits the hatchway. Din watches as you turn, hesitate, then hurry away, your shoulders squared defensively as if you can feel the force of his gaze on your back.

Alone, the taste of caf hot and bitter on his tongue, Din Djarin grins.

After that, he starts to notice. He starts to notice how tense you are when he’s close.

At first he’s not sure - but then, once, he deliberately brushes your waist as he moves past you in the cockpit to take the pilot’s seat, and you’re still standing there, frozen, when he glances back at you. You brush it off, but it happens again when you bump into him coming out of the fresher. When he reaches over your head in the kitchenette to fetch a ration bar from a compartment. When you lean over his shoulder to point out the coordinates to a refueling station. When he catches you yawning, falling asleep in the passenger’s seat.

“I’m going to hit my bunk,” you say, rising to your feet, your arms stretched above your head. Din turns slowly, and he catches the glimpse of a sliver of flesh as your shirt rides up. The words escape him before he’s even conscious of their existence.

“Want some company?”

Dank farrik, he’s been dropping hints and touches for ages - and he knows you’re affected by his presence, he’s sure of it now. They might be closer to butterflies for you, but his bullets are bouncing around in his gut right now.

“What?” you ask, half-laughing - as if it’s all some grand joke. “You gotta stop with the innuendo, Mando. I might get the wrong idea.”

“And if it’s not innuendo?” He’s flicked the ship to auto-pilot - on his feet - looming towards you. You’re caught in the hatchway, unable to step backwards to fall down the ladder, unwilling to turn your back. "If you've got the right idea?"

“What?” you repeat - licking your lips again. Your eyes are flicking back and forth from his visor to his hands. It’s almost like you're expecting a fight.

“I want to fuck you.”

The words are matter-of-fact but delivered in a low baritone, a gravelly rasp that lifts the hairs on the back of your neck. You stop breathing for a second - he can see it - and your leg twitches, just half a step backward - but then you swing it forward again, swaying towards him. Like he has you in his gravitational pull.

It’s all Din needs. He closes the distance between you, his gloved hands closing around your biceps, the leather worn and warm through your shirt.

He says your name, once, in a digital growl that curls your toes in your boots. And then it’s like an explosion - it all happens so quickly; there are hands and clothes everywhere and then on the deck, and in the aftermath you are in the Mandalorian’s arms, naked, your legs around his waist as he presses you up against the bulkhead.

His chestplate hits the deck - his flak jacket lifted above his head when you let him stop touching you long enough. You barely have time to appreciate the feel of his naked hands on your skin, cupping your breasts in his broad, smooth palms, thumbing your nipples all-too-briefly before he’s sliding down the zipper of his flight suit and baring a V of muscled flesh all the way to his groin.

“Mando,” you gasp as he frees his cock, as he maneuvers the throbbing, purpled head to drag through your slit. He finds you open and wet, lips parted for him, and he groans as he nudges against your fluttering hole. He doesn't hesitate.

He pushes in slow, for he’s a lot to take, thick and hard and the stretch is almost too much. You whine, your voice high and tight in your throat, and he soothes you with soft little noises and praise that makes you feel light-headed.

“Shhh, that’s it,” “You’re so fucking tight-” “Made to take my cock, mesh’la" and other words you don’t recognize. Eventually, he’s all the way inside you, his pelvis flush to yours, the scratch of hair at his pubic bone pressing into your mound.

You pant in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, a thin resin of sweat risen on your brow. “Move,” you order through clenched teeth, and finally you open your eyes to meet his visor and demand, “Fuck me, Mando.”

And he does - withdrawing his hips from the welcoming cradle of yours, his cock dragging back through you, and you can feel every ridge and vein before he’s spearing back in, jarring your back against the bulkhead. It’s a shock right through your system, and you can feel adrenaline flooding your veins, your blood pumping faster like you’re fighting for your life. You might as well be, for he does it again, and again, and soon he’s setting a punishing pace that hits against something soft and devastating deep inside you.

Your orgasm hits you like a blow you fail to dodge - winding you, knocking the air from your lungs - and for a moment all that matters is the blinding flash of pleasure through your nerves, the rolling wave that makes your cunt flutter in rippling spasms around the pulsing rod of his cock. He pins your hips with another vicious rut of his hips and then he’s coming, too, releasing into the impossible grip of your body, groaning with every spurt of spend he fills you with.

“Fuck,” Din summarizes, once you both can catch your breath - once your legs start to loosen, jelly-weak as he pulls out gently, lowering your feet back to the ground. He’s suddenly nervous - worried he’s fucked this up, done the wrong thing, lost patience and paid for it with your scorn.

But your smile is brilliant as you beam up at him - your face radiant - flushed and sweaty. You are beautiful.

“Next time, don't waste time dropping hints,” you tell him, and then you reassure him with a laugh, and the wonderful feeling of your arms around his neck.

For a while, he just holds you close. And for a while, the bullets in his stomach are gone.

[cower-before-power]

Piety

Summary: Gojo has sinned, and he will repent at the altar of his beloved

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, implied sexual content, idolatry

Link to A03 here

A/N: First time writing for everyone’s favourite sensei, hope I did him justice. This man can step on me. Enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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“You’re late.”

He laughs softly from the doorway. “I told you I would be.”

“I know,” you say, your eyes focused on the rising moon out the window. “But you’ve always said I was the exception.”

“You are,” you can hear walk over to the closet; next, the rustling of clothes as he sheds his uniform. “But Yuuji-kun is doing so well I got overexcited and just had to stay a bit longer. When I was finished with him, I was planning on rushing straight home to you, but then I ran into my other darling first years. They wanted me to watch them fight. Their training for the exchange is coming along nicely too.”

“Hmmmmm,” you hum, rocking on your heels, “good reasons to be late, I suppose.”

You can’t help but let a little irritation creep into your voice. You’re not angry with him, not truly, but you can’t help be a little annoyed. Your lives were so busy it was often hard to find time to actually act like a couple. The two of you had set aside tonight to finally go out together, a real date. You’d made reservations at a fancy restaurant and even got dressed up for once. Not that you didn’t love your late night routine of takeout, Netflix and sex, but it was nice every once and a while to get out.

To pretend everything was normal. To pretend you were normal.

So when he texted you that he was sorry but things came up, could you please cancel the reservation-you couldn’t help but feel....cast aside.

You loved Gojo’s dedication to his students and his passion for his cause. You were proud of his strength, his powers. But sometimes it felt like you were a planet orbiting around his brilliant sun, competing with all the others for his warmth and light. He was the best, and was always needed by someone somewhere. You knew it was what you were in for when you put your heart in his hands, but it was still sometimes a bitter pill to swallow.

“You’re upset with me,” he says, and you finally turn to face him. He’s out of his uniform and only in a pair of dark sweatpants; your favourite look. You have a strong urge to run to him and bury yourself in his chest. You stay put.

“No not at you, per say,” you run your hands through your hair, taking out the style you’d coaxed it into earlier. “Just at life, I guess. Things are always crazy around here, but they seem to be getting even wilder and it just makes it even harder for us to spend quality time together.”

“You’ve never complained before.”

You sigh, tugging at the straps of your dress. “I know, I know. I’m just in a mood today, I guess. I was really looking forward to going out, and when you texted me, I just felt, I don’t know, shuffled aside.”

He stays quiet, face unreadable. It’s unusual and quite frankly rather unsettling. You feel guilt suddenly bubble hotly in your stomach.

“I mean, it’s fine! What you were doing was very important! Yuuji needs all the training he can get, poor boy. Plus, Megumi and Nobara miss you, they’ve noticed you haven’t been around a lot and they probably just wanted to see you be proud of them, even if they’ll never admit it. I’m being silly, I mean, who cares if we missed the reservation, the students and their training is definitely more important than going out with me-“

Your words die on your lips as you find yourself suddenly pressed flush against the chest you were just admiring moments earlier. You blink and gasp-bright blue eyes are staring intently down into yours. It always stuns you momentarily to see them. They are like sapphires; not only beautiful in shine and hue, but rare and precious. They only show up when he’s feeling particularly loving and mushy, or the very limited occasions when he gets serious.

You have a feeling it’s the latter.

“What have I told you about being too kind, angel?” He scolds you, shaking his head as he cups your face in his large, warm hands. “Just come out and say I’m the asshole here.”

“But-“

“Hush now,” his voice grows stern, the tone he uses when he’s got you at his mercy. You obey on instinct, snapping your lips shut. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long at school, and I definitely shouldn’t have assumed that cancelling would be okay without asking. I’ve never, ever wanted you to feel like you’re playing second string, and I’ve gone and done just that.”

You frown. “I don’t feel like that all the time, please don’t think I-“

“Once is one time too many,” he interrupts. His fingers smooth over your skin, stroking the frown from your face. “I clearly fucked up. I let my angel, my reason to live, my sweet darling thief who stole my heart, down.”

(You feel warm. So he is feeling mushy as well as serious.)

He replaces his fingers with his lips, featherlight brushes over your skin that make your knees begin to wobble. “It’s okay,” you breathe, eyes slipping shut so he can kiss your eyelids gently. “You didn’t mean to.”

He laughs. “Sweetness, you are shit at being mad at someone. This is the part where you call me a prick and make me grovel for forgiveness.”

“You’ve never groveled in your life,” you hum. The irritation you’d been feeling earlier is melting away under his gentle ministrations. He hadn’t meant to hurt you. He sometimes forgets the two of you didn’t always operate on the same wavelength. He sometimes forgets that everyone didn’t operate on his wavelength.

“Another exception I’d make for you,” he nibbles at your bottom lip, and you can’t help but chase him, trying to catch him in a proper kiss. He just laughs and sweeps a thumb over where he’s just nipped. “I’ll even get on my knees.”

The image of the worlds most powerful shaman on his knees before you sends a shiver up your spine. And the perceptive bastard doesn’t miss it. He pulls away, peeling himself from your body with a sticky slowness that causes the air around you to heat and thicken. He sinks to his knees before you, palms upturned in perfect piety.

“Oh goddess divine, please accept my humble apologies,” the words drip from his lips like a sacred prayer. “I have displeased you, and I seek to make amends.”

“Only you could apologize and make fun of someone at the same time,” you murmer, feeling your cheeks begin to flush. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who only wishes to repent for his sins,” he grins lazily up at you, and his upturned hands are suddenly on your legs, beneath your dress. His thumbs begin to rub circles on your inner thighs. Time stops; your next breath lodges in your throat.

“Tell me what I must do,” his voice is smooth like the silk of his blindfold, slipping over you. He leans in and presses a kiss just above your right knee. His mouth is hot against your skin.

“Ummmm....” you try to speak, but nothing comes out but a choked whimper.

“I’m waiting very patiently,” another kiss, this time slightly higher. Your brain begins to malfunction. You open and close your mouth, trying to get the words out, but there’s nothing. Nothing but his warm breath and deft hands. Nothing but crystalline blue darkened with hunger. Nothing but need beginning to boil in your blood.

“I’ll just have to decide the form of atonement myself,” he murmurs, skimming his nose along your inner thigh. His hands slowly slide up your legs, your dress is coming up with them....

And then you both hear it.

The loud grumbling of your very empty belly.

He pulls back and blinks up at you. You stare back, mouth open. And then you both burst into raucous laughter.

“What a mood killer,” he grins, sitting back on his heels. “I’ve never been cockblocked by your stomach before.”

“Sorry!” You rub the offending area, still giggling. “I guess in all my stewing I forgot I was hungry.”

He’s on his feet in a flash. “Well we can’t have you starve on me, can we, sweetness? I know, how about I cook for us?”

Your eyes light up. Gojo is an excellent cook, but he rarely does it due to his busy and exhausting schedule. And his bad habit of filling up on sweets. “Really?”

“Sure,” he’s already across the room, throwing on a shirt and his blindfold. “Tell you what, you go have a nice hot soak in the tub while I cook. I’ll bring you a glass of wine and something from my extra secret sweets stash to tide you over till I’m done.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Something from the secret stash? I’m honoured.”

He grins. “Another exception for my angel.” He suddenly claps his hands together. “Oh, and tomorrow we’ll play hookey! Go to Tokyo for the whole day, and I’ll spoil the absolute shit out of you. The kids can survive a day without us.”

“You already spoil me,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll just be happy to spend a whole day just us.”

“No arguments!” He wags his finger. “I will drop mad cash on you and you will enjoy it.”

“Ugh you are such a dork,” you roll your eyes, but your heart fills with love for this silly man. You know he really is sorry and is trying to make it up to you. He’s an idiot on occasions, but he’s your idiot, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You make to move towards the bathroom, but the lingering feel of his touch on your skin reminds you.

“Hey, what happens after the bath and food?”

Before you can blink, he’s back in front of you, gathering you against him. His smile is absolutely feral, and you can feel his smouldering gaze even through the black fabric now covering his eyes.

And his lips are descending on yours, hot and hungry. He licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that’s threatening to escape. There’s nothing left but him. His touch, his taste, his scent. He is everywhere, in every sweep and valley of your body, in every corner of your pounding heart. He consumes you like fire consumes a forest, and you are happy to burn, burn, burn.

All too soon he pulls away, and you are left empty. Bereft. Lost. But he leans back in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice dark with reverent desire.

“I’ll worship at the altar of my divine goddess until my penance is paid a hundred fold.”

[ghost-like-pale]

fuckin' perv

info: some gross guy thinks you're his, sapnap thinks otherwise. 》 female clothing/anatomy, they/them pronouns 》 irl + romantic 》 1.4k words

warnings: (sexual) harassment and assault, physical fighting, hurt/comfort, swearing

a/n: ty for the support on my last piece ♡ please enjoy

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

the evening sun shone an orange glow over the city. the chatter of the citizens rang through the streets past all the tall buildings, the cars and taxis making their way to their patron's destinations and the smell of your favorite restaurants wafted past the pavement. you've grown up in the city, getting used to it, yet never getting bored.

all of these memories made you think about your boyfriend; he was a real country boy - born and raised in texas and everything. it never failed to bring a smile to your face whenever he pointed out a particularly tall office or a pretty neon 'open' sign.

something he's never been very fond of is the people. specifically older men. they always had a certain look on their face as you walked by, making him swing an arm around your hip or slipping a hand in your pocket. he's always been quite protective over his lover. you didn't mind, though.

—

there wasn't much time to reminisce on your loverboy right now - you were going to see him today! your car broke the day before, so with great displeasure you had to take the bus. you hated public transport. everyone was so close to each other, the air was stuffy and there was always someone to make you horribly uncomfortable.

you pulled your mask further over your nose when you reached the stop. the small space was bordered by plastic panels and a poster for some music event, nothing of interest. the sound coming from your earbuds made your foot tap the the rhythm until the bus finally emerged from the passing traffic.

the ride was peaceful, which made you strangely wary - like a calm moment before the storm. you didn't mind the busride being quiet, but the feeling never shook.

after waving at the busdriver and thanking him kindly, you hopped off the vehicle onto the concrete pavement. three other people walked out with you; and old couple, one holding a walker and a 20-something year old man. the clicking of his tongue grew impatient as he got stuck behind the couple. after a moment the two elders managed to get off the bus safely and the man could finally get to his stop.

you didn't pay them any mind, you wanted to see sapnap as soon as possible. you kept walking at a brisk pace, growing more exited with every step. after passing and crossing a few streets you started to feel uneasy. feeling eyes drilling right through your back, you rummaged in your bag and pulled out a small handheld mirror and lip gloss. as you were applying your gloss you glanced behind you, scanning the faces you could catch from within you peripheral vision.

you were surprised to see the impatient man from the bus stop a few feet behind you. now realizing the situation, you hastily stuff everything back into your bag and start walking again, this time quicker than before. the stabbing look didn't shake, however.

you were getting more anxious as it got darker and the crowds became scarce. the destination was on the edge of the city, where there was nothing other than small stores and the occasional crappy apartment building. the pavement was easy to see if you looked down; no polished dress shoes, no sneakers, no stilettos, nothing. just the occasional group of chatting teenagers passing by or an overworked retail worker walking home.

with every frantic step forward he seemed to get one step closer. the sound of your feet tapping on the floor came to a halt as you arrived at a crosswalk with a red light. the man hummed an unorganized tune and stood behind you and casually waited for the light to turn green. everytime you'd move, so would he. the brief moment waiting in front of the crosswalk felt like centuries.

—

ding. the pole emitted a bright green and you sighed in relief. you rushed over to the other side of the street, making sure not to hit someone on the way there. as you were moving along you suddenly felt a hand on your back, slowly gliding down over your-

"what are you doing?!"

the panic in your voice didn't phase the man, though he did take his hand off your lower half and placed it on your neck instead. he slowly backed you into a small alleyway while muttering a response.

"calm down, cutie. it's just a hand."

you slapped his hand off yourself, losing the hope you had when you realized you were the only one with him on this block.

"let me go, you creep!"

this response to his 'compliment' didn't please him; he harshly grabbed you by the roots of your hair and pushed you against the cold brick wall of a corner store.

"listen here, bitch. you're gonna listen to me real good, and you're gonna obey everything i tell you, understood?"

you whimpered in pain, shutting your eyes and tears dipping at your chin.

"understood?!"

with another yank at your hair you mewled and nodded hastily. this seemed to satisfy him.

"good. now, let's have some fun, shall we?"

his hand rested on your thigh and gradually made its way up, under your skirt until it hit your underwear. the other was around your wrists, holding them both with his larger hands to the side of your head. his feet trapped yours, putting his weight on your toes so you wouldn't kick him.

"ngh-!"

"heh, can't handle stimulation, can you? guess this will be more fun than i imagined- ugh!"

the man was knocked back harshly, the hand that connected with his face quickly retreating to the body it belonged to. sapnap. the man felt his jaw, there was blood dripping off his lip.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO THEM?!"

sapnap boomed in anger at the man. before he could even think of an answer he was hit again by the same hand. sapnap was now right next to you, him seeing your trembling figure in his peripheral vision. once he was sure that gross excuse of a person was going to stay down he turned to you.

his entire body language changed; his arms turning from tense limbs into a welcoming place to rest in, his chest forming into a warm pillow to fall into, his eyes from a slaughtering rage into a kind and sympathetic expression. your tears were already flowing as you sank into his embrace. he engulfed you completely, shielding you from everything and anyone, soothing the intense fear and horror you just experienced.

"you're okay now, baby. i got you, i got you."

his tone was smooth like honey, the words pulling you further in his secure clutch. the screaming must've attracted a few people, because before you knew it your hug was interrupted by him gently loosening his grasp and lowering his voice.

"we should get home, we don't want this hellhole to become a exhibition. here-"

he unwrapped his arms and pulled his grey hoodie over his head and handed the clothing article to you.

"wear this, baby."

you accepted his hoodie and threw it over your upper body. when you were finished sapnap grabbed your hand and guided you out the alleyway and turning a corner. his car was parked a little further.

"i wanted to give you a nice ride through the outer city, but i think you'd rather be home, am i right?"

you nodded. your face was stung by the wet streaks on your face with the cooling air hitting your features. you eventually reached the car, sapnap sitting down into the driver's position and you plopping down onto the passenger seat.

—

the soft revving of the car's engine made for a nice background noise as you drove over to sapnap's house. you reached the destination quicker than expected. time didn't feel like it was passing at this point.

your legs refused to move, even when sapnap opened the door for you. sapnap, understanding the situation, picked you up bridal-style and carried you and your bag out the vehicle.

—

your body was weak, both from the late hours of the night and your vivid memory of what happened about half an hour ago. the mattress sank next to you as you snuggled further under the covers. sapnap radiated warmth, making you move your body towards him and latching onto him like a koala.

"rest, angel. we'll talk about it in the morning."

his voice reverberated in his chest, the vibrations bringing you comfort. his hand found a good spot on the top of your head, lightly pushing it into him.

"good night, (y/n)."

you hummed as a response before passing out. sapnapchuckled at your cute resting face.

"sleep well, baby. you deserve it."

—

thank you for reading. please don't be too harsh on me, heh

masterlist

[hotdamnhunnam]

Congrats again on 2K. i’m so happy for you ❤️

For the emojis: 🔥☕️🚧

For the character: Jax, i feel like those emojis have a Jax vibe

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats! 💗

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Roadblocks Don’t Suck

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, car sex (quick & rough, light choking, Jax’s leather gloves (they’re a whole kink)) Word Count: ~1.4k Emoji Prompt: 🔥☕️🚧 (key words are in bold)

Jax Teller is a lot of things. Pussy-whipped isn’t one of them, but somehow when you ask for things he gives in to a ton of them. On some level in his alpha male soul that sort of stings.

He’s in the driver’s seat grumpy and grumbling like a five-year-old. You’re really in the driver’s seat with all the power that you hold, over the prince of Charming, destined to be king.

He lights a cigarette. The little flame matches his mood flickering sharply with resentment and regret, that he had caved to what you said.

“How’s your goddamn coffee,” he snaps, bitter and full of sass. Gruffly, to hide the fact that you can turn him into such a goddamn softie.

“It’s fucking lovely,” you proclaim, taking another sip and gloating without shame. This morning you’d asked Jax to drive your car to where the two of you are headed, rather than taking his Harley as he typically prefers instead. You wanted to sit comfortably with your coffee and finish up the book you’ve almost fully read.

He doesn’t know yet you were also hoping you could give him road head.

“Fuck!” Jax suddenly rasps as he steps on the brake just when you reach the end of your book, causing you to look up out the windshield in shock. It’s just a bit of bad traffic but your man sounds as furious as if your car was hit by a damn truck. “Ugh, there’s a fucking roadblock. This shit fucking sucks.”

Jax really just can’t deal with traffic at a standstill. He is seething, heavy breathing, living proof that looks can kill.

Glimpse flashing lights and obstacles with slanted black and yellow stripes to mark construction that’s in progress up ahead. Prince Fuming grits his bright white teeth around his cigarette like he wants someone dead. Possibly you. “See, bitch if we were on my bike I could’ve just driven right through…”

“Would you just stop? Here, I’ll give you a handjob,” you decide, casting your finished paperback off to the side. Sometimes—a lot of times—you’d rather make Jax Teller cum than hear him talk. “Shut up, just sit back and enjoy your smoke and let me stroke your cock.”

“What are we, fifteen-year-old kids? You’ll grab my dick and let me grope your tits?” he laughs, as you reach in his jeans to grip and squeeze his massive shaft. “Get down and suck.”

You take your hands out of his pants and cross your arms over your chest tightly, to tell him no such luck. “Maybe I would have if you’d asked nicely, you bossy little fuck.”

“You love it when I’m bossy.” Jax is well aware that his dominance gets you wet and juicy. “Know it hits you in your kinky little pussy.”

“You don’t know shit about my kinks,” you lie.

“You think?” he challenges with a dark glimmer in his eye. The heat of hell behind his smile. Glances out the window at the standstill traffic and decides to put the car in park so he can make this goddamn ride worthwhile.

Asking nicely isn’t really Jax’s style.

You can act like you don’t want it but there’s no point in denial. Every goddamn thing about him drives you wild.

When he wants something he takes it—bends your will to fight him off and fucking breaks it—snaps a finger and you’re naked—he makes sure you want it wholeheartedly too—but that shit’s never hard to do.

He always has you spouting off a senseless stream of oh God Jesus Christ Jax yes fuck yes in two seconds or less. Knows he’s your ever-living weakness. Face you see when you scream Jesus. Knows you’re his to play with any way he pleases. Knows just what buttons to press, to get his girl to be a wet whimpering mess.

Has you spread out on the backseat, shaking in heat, as he strips off your summer dress. Stays fully clothed because he knows it’s fucking torture when he doesn’t let you cleave against the smooth skin of his chest. Settle for clutching at the leather of his vest. The leather Jax Teller wears best.

Or is it…? Though you’ve never mentioned this before, Jax saw the sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours, when you watched his hands on the steering wheel clad in his leather gloves and thought that shit’s fucking exquisite.

To be honest it’s ridiculous that he’d wear leather gloves to drive a car. Today’s ride isn’t even far. You know it’s just so he can feel more like he’s riding on his Harley and it’s dumb as fuck but you don’t care about that given what a slut you are. Jax in the leather of his kutte is hot enough—but these damn gloves… they have you seeing fucking stars…

You’d wanted him to push your head deep in his lap while you bent down to suck him off. Feeling the smooth warmth of the leather in your hair and on your cheeks as you devoured his enormous cock and showered it with love.

He’d like that very fucking much, without a doubt, but in this moment he would rather see your gorgeous glowing face than have it buried in his crotch. More in the mood to fuck your pussy than your mouth. He wants to watch, the way your inner slut is spinning out—surrenders to his touch… the way your features melt, descending into ecstasy past anything you’ve ever fucking felt… as he traces his thumb across your bottom lip with one hand while the other frames your hips—taking you in his leather grip—tight as a belt, sharp as a whip.

And it’s insane the way it makes your pussy drip. Your brain is on a fucking trip. Can leather get you fucking pregnant? On the road the traffic’s still completely stagnant, but your man will have to get back in the driver’s seat again soon once the cars begin to move. There’s not a lot of time to get into the groove. No time for fun and games and foreplay—just a frantic feral fuck here on the freeway—love and lust one and the same to make and take when you two have nothing to prove.

Outside of sex, you know that it’s your job as Jax Teller’s old lady to continually kick his ego down a couple pegs. But it’s a different fucking story when he’s hovering above you and all set to shove his meat into the aching soaking heat between your legs.

A piece of prey for him to eat. To read your body as it breaks and burns and begs. Jax is the undisputed king when he has you spread in his bed or the backseat. And as his leather-clad hand wraps around your throat you gasp at how it feels so sweet because you know what’s coming next…

He applies just the perfect pressure and oh fuck you’ve never felt such perfect pleasure.

You can feel his power pouring through the leather. You can feel it pounding through your blood, as he plows deep inside your pulsing cunt, that fucking instant, with a savage fucking grunt, rock hard as he drives home and hits a flood, ‘cause you’ve never been wetter. You’re his fucking slut. Forever.

Two or three bucks of his hips—he sucks the prayer of his name off of your lips—tightens that leather fucking grip—your grip on consciousness begins to fucking slip…

Just came undone, though this had only just begun. He spills inside you that same second and you’re both sprawled on the seat sex-dumb and drunk.

Two seconds later all the cars outside decide to fucking honk.

He really doesn’t give a fuck. You’re both so bulldozed by the love you made you probably wouldn’t notice if this steamy little car of yours got totaled by a truck. Honk all they want for all you care—the two of you are far beyond the world out there—you’re stuck in heaven with no plans to come unstuck.

Maybe try fucking one more time to piss off everyone outside and push your luck.

Jax reads your mind because it’s his. Leather glove soft around your throat now as he smiles through a cigarette-and-coffee-flavored kiss. “Maybe roadblocks don’t suck.”

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

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[cat3ch1sm]

Could you do langa bf headcannons?

🌱| yes, of course! thanks 4 my first sk8 the infinity request <33

🌲| see this list for more on my acct, including req rules, stuff i write, and more!

what's it like dating langa? gn!reader

· the main way for langa to notice you would be through skateboarding- so a pro skateboarder you will be! langa first caught sight of you at an S beef beating the crap out of Shadow. he noticed your elegant technique and smooth style of skateboarding- it was clear you knew what you were doing. he really admired your ability and would sometimes drag reki to the S just to watch you and observe the way you skateboarded.

· of course, reki immediately noticed you were the one langa was wanting to see every night. so, reki being reki, he arranged to have you and langa meet outside of skating by basically hounding you after your races until you finally gave in.

· when that day came for you and langa to meet, langa was thrilled. now he could finally get to meet you- maybe you could show him some things?

· and then he noticed that you were pretty damn attractive.

· he had only seen you from a distance, when you were sailing through midair and perfectly executing your personal moves. that had been plenty already- but up close? you were jaw-dropping.

· of course, now he's all awkward around you. what is he supposed to do?? you're stunning and you're talented- he has no idea how to react to being so close to someone he admires so much. langa blushes a lot around you, although he does a good job of hiding it- he wonders if he'll ever get it together.

· yay, langa- he does! you're actually super nice and really funny, and you find langa just as charming. you two hit it off instantly, and langa finds himself wanting to spend more and more time with you. you felt like an old friend to him, and you felt the same about langa.

· eventually, it happens- you're the one to ask langa out officially as a partner. although he's blushing like crazy and can hardly believe it, his answer is an eager yes! *cue reki diabolically smirking in the bg*

· he wants you to spend so much time with reki- and miya, too! he thinks it would be so awesome if you all were just skating together, and he knows his best friends won't mind.

· you both take turns showing each other tricks and stunts- even ones you guys don't actually know how to do. it's still fun to dust yourself off and laugh when you mess up- you have each other, who cares?

· loves to be the little spoon when you guys cuddle! you think he's adorable asf

· whenever you're just scoring through your phone or reading or something, he'll lean over and rest his chin on your shoulder like, "whatcha doing?"

· will randomly pick you up and carry you around on his back. langa just thinks it's fun for some reason

· langa, miya, and reki get into the MOST IDIOTIC fights known to mankind. congrats, you're the mediator 😀

· langa doesn't talk about his dad much at all. you know he still thinks of him a lot though, and you don't bring him up unless langa does first.

· because langa wants you to be a part of his friend group so badly, he adds you to all of the group chats- which mostly consist of reki, miya, and shadow blowing up you and langa's phones because of even more useless fights. fun 😀😀

· he also introduces you to cherry and hoe joe, and makes sure you stay far away from Adam. he knows you can handle yourself, of course- but he'd rather not take the risk.

· texts r never half-assed. like, "i love you." or "good night, love" none of that "ily" or "gn" bs

· loves to go on vacations with you and his friends. you all together make him so happy! (of course, you get special attention<3)

· is ridiculously smooth and hot and ugh and doesn't even know it- you do get a little jealous sometimes 😭

· late-night walks with langa guys

· he thinks he is so lucky to have you. langa never wants to lose you

🐸| <33 i hope u loved this!

[palbabor-writes]

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst  

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu​, @kogo​ & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is. 

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.   

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.” 

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use. 

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.” 

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips. 

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.” 

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you. 

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up. 

There’s no way. 

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??” 

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns. 

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about. 

What a jerk. 

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand. 

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile. 

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district. 

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you. 

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression. 

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone. 

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs. 

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression. 

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!” 

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not. 

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy. 

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst. 

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again. 

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over. 

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.” 

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.” 

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips. 

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart. 

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze. 

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained. 

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity. 

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?” 

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.” 

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk. 

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.” 

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away. 

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

 “The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–” 

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”  

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you. 

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo. 

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull. 

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling. 

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you? 

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body. 

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him. 

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence. 

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue. 

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip. 

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…” 

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms. 

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin. 

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway. 

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.  

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots. 

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement. 

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined. 

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him. 

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally. 

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now. 

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier. 

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…” 

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning. 

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him. 

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room. 

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses. 

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.” 

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck. 

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect. 

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged. 

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.  

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?” 

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!” 

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you. 

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you. 

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him. 

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin. 

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants. 

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites. 

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.” 

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?” 

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.  

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him. 

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.” 

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls. 

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher. 

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm. 

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat. 

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips. 

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’” 

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands. 

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze. 

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you. 

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…” 

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it’s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you. 

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder. 

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach. 

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud. 

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air. 

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets. 

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body. 

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you. 

That change is all it takes. 

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars. 

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break. 

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals. 

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom. 

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties. 

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?” 

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form. 

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

[write-orflight]

Watch Over Me: Chapter One

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: M

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: none for this chapter: innuendo, language

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Steve Rogers learns about the future from a woman stuck in the past.

A.N This is my jazz club reader fic I’ve been talking about writing. This fic isn’t gonna be long but I like it so I hope yall do too. I’m not using my perm taglist because it’s different than my normal content. reply, message, or inbox to be tagged. Devil Has Lilith will be updated Saturday.

Slang used in this chapter:

Dish: An attractive Woman

Butter and egg man: The money man, the man who comes to town to blow a big wad in nightclubs.

Dip the bill: Have a drink.

Corn: Bourbon

Cake-eater: A ladies’ man

Jalopy: An old car.

Drop a dime: Make a phone call

Chapter 1: There's a somebody I'm longin' to see 

“I can’t watch this anymore!” Tony said storming into the compound’s kitchen one night.  Steve looked up from his sketchbook in confusion. “I can’t watch you sit in here another friday night. It’s tragic!” 

“Ugh, not this again, Tony.” Steve says, sighing. Nat and Bucky begin snickering next to him, knowing where the conversation was going. 

“Yes, this again. Cap, I excused it for the first couple of years because you were adjusting to the times but it’s been years! If you’re not on a mission, you don’t go out! Sometimes, when Pep is having trouble sleeping I describe your social life to her, puts her right slee--” 

“Alright, I get it!” Steve cuts him off, slapping Bucky, who was in full hysterics at this point, in the arm. “I know my personal life is--” 

“Non-existent?” Nat provides.   

“Dead?” Tony adds, laughing.  

“But it’s my personal life. I’m over 100 years old. If I looked it, you guys wouldn’t be questioning my staying home.”   

“Exactly, if you looked it, I wouldn’t. But you are not that old yet.” Tony says. “Come on, let’s just all go out once. If you don’t like it, I’ll never make you go out again. I’ll even get you a coloring book or a model ship, or whatever old people do.” 

“Fine.” Steve sighed, as the man next to him cheered. “But nothing like those places you typically go to. They’re too noisy and sweaty and--” 

“Yea I got it, old-timer. We’re not going anywhere like that.” Tony provides. “My friend recently opened a restaurant where their back room is a speakeasy, very accurately themed, you need a password and everything to get in. You’ll fit right in.” 

“Prohibition ended in the 30s.” Bucky says. “Long before Stevie could even drink.” 

“Even still, work with me a little here.” Tony says. 

“Fine.” Steve sighs.  

“Awesome. Now, you’ve got to come in costume to these things so I’ve already taken the liberty of telling my tailor to make you guys something.” 

“What if I had said no?” Steve asks. 

“Oh, Cap. You should know by now I don’t take no as an answer.” 

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

  Steve shifted uncomfortably in his uniform. It was almost exactly like the one he would wear out during down times in the war though he knew it wasn’t the real one as that one was in the Smithsonian. Still, Tony’s tailor did a good job with seemingly all the costumes. Tony looked almost identical to how Steve remembered Howard back in the day. Bucky was in a uniform that looked similar to his back in the day, Glove covering his metal hand. Natatsha was in a sleek red gown, white gloves and pearls that was more modest than he’d seen her wear but still made her look drop dead gorgeous. 

Tony led them down a dark alley to what seemed to be a back door. Steve looked around confused as they entered the smokey hallway. At the end of the hallway there were two large doors and a lady with pinned up hair and a black shimmery dress, smoking with her feet propped up on the desk she was sitting at. 

“Evening gentlemen.” She croons in an english accent. “And lady. Are you lost?” 

“We have a meeting with Dr. Volstead.” Tony says, confidently. 

The woman tilts her head back giving all of you a once over. “It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” She asks. 

“Yes, it is. But I prefer the rain.” Tony says.  

With that the woman stands and walks over to the large doors and knocks rhythmically 3 times. The doors open to reveal a large dance hall where couples are in full swing, laughing and drinking. A trio of girls crooned a faced paced song as a jazz band was playing behind them. For a moment, Steve did actually forget he was in the 21st century. 

“Enjoy Paradise, my friends.” The woman smiles, before shutting the doors to the outside world. 

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

You were in the kitchen, taking a much needed headache break from the facade you had been putting up for your tables all night long when your Co-worker, Dalia, came up to you. 

“Y/N, Y/N! You have to trade tables with me.” 

You looked at her with a suspicious look. “Why?” 

“Come on, It’s a 4-top anyway. I’ll even trade you the party table for it.” That made you even more suspicious. “50 bucks for it, come on.” 

“Don’t trade, Y/N/N!” Your co-worker and friend/roommate, Jade added. “Tony Stark is in your section. I bet she only wants to give you 50 for it because she knows she’ll make 500.” 

“Come on, that’s not even why.” Dalia groans. “Black Widow is also at your table and you know she’s on my ‘Celebrities I have to fuck before I die’ list.” 

“God, are the rest of the avengers here?” You ask. 

“Not all but you know who is here?” Jade asks. “Steve Rogers.” She says, in a mocking singsong tone, jabbing you. Your crush on Captain America wasn’t really a secret anymore after you confessed it drunk one night. “And he looks almost edible.”  

You hum, you didn’t really feel like taking another table but this wasn’t a normal table. You doubt you had a chance but you weren’t passing up on serving Steve Rogers. 

“I’ll make you a deal. I still want that 50 bucks and we share the table, I’ll consider splitting the tip.” You say, the idea of making your rent in a night did appease you. 

“Deal.”

“Now ladies, I have a song to do.” You say, leaving the girls behind in the kitchen. 

—————————————-

Steve, for the first time in a while it seemed, was having fun. Tony was right, he did feel like he fit right in here. He clapped with the crowd, as the three girls bowed and left the stage. The piano man stood up and took the microphone Steve could tell was only styled to look old but actually wasn’t that old. 

“One more time for the Duclaw sisters folks.” The smooth voiced man said into the microphone, inciting another round of applause from the crowd. “Our next performer is actually the last of the night.” That incited a few ‘awws’ of disappointment. “Don’t cry just yet because Old Gary never disappoints, our next performer is my personal favorite. Sings like a Canary and the Cat who caught it.” That induces a laugh from the crowd and a small chuckle from Steve. “And maybe if you’re good she’ll come on for an encore later. Ladies and Gentlemen, The Sultry Sounds of Y/N L/N.” He says, moving from the mic back to the piano as the crowd cheers. Steve watches the stage as arguably the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen seems to glide out from the backstage. She’s wearing a floor length silver gown that seemed to glimmer with every step she took. Her hair came down in long fingerwaves, pinned back so you could see the sculpt of her face. Steve would be lying if he said that wasn’t his favorite part of her facade. She had on simple eyeliner, foundation, and a bold red lip he could probably see from mars. You were beautiful, in a timeless sort of way. 

“My, my.” She crooned in an sultry old new york accent that reminded Steve of the women he grew up around. “What would your wife say if she knew I was your favorite, Old Gary?” 

“She’d agree!” The man called from the piano, inducing the chuckle from the crowd. And a deep sultry one from you. 

“Well as they say, two’s just fine but three’s a party.” She winked at the old man in a way that would make Steve weak if he wasn’t already sitting. 

“You ok there, Cap?” Tony said, snapping Steve out of the mystery woman’s trance. “You disappeared for a second.” 

“I’m fine.” Steve said, fighting the flush that threatened to spread over his face. He looks out the side of his eye to Bucky, who was smirking at him knowingly. Of course, he knew. 

“You know, you saying something about being good got me thinking, Old Gary.” She said, as the man softly played behind her. “A good man is hard to find. Great men are great, bad men are good sometimes too.” She winked to the crowd. “But every girl wants a good man, someone to watch over her.” Old Gary seems to take the cue to start playing her song. 

“There's a saying old, says that love is blind. Still we're often told, ‘seek and ye shall find’” She began singing and it made Steve sit up in his seat. She had the kind of voice that was almost beckoning. She was becoming his own personal siren. “So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind”  

“She’s a looker, huh?” The server, who introduced herself as Dalia, said as she sat down Bucky’s drink. “Y/N’s the main dish of this place.” 

“I think I’m more interested in you, doll.” Bucky flirted, shamelessly. 

“And I think I’m more interested in dames, Soldier.” She says, winking to Natasha who smiles coyly at her. Steve hardly pays them any mind as his focus was on you as you finished your song and thanked the crowd and waved while Old Gary helped her off stage. 

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

You were changing from your stage outfit into your floor outfit when Dalia burst into the locker room.

“Y/N/N, I actually think I might have a chance with Widow. I mean, she’s kinda been ignoring me the whole night but when I mentioned I was into girls she smiled!” Dalia ranted, excitedly as you nodded. You turned your back to her so she’d get the clue to zip you up which she does. “Also, you should’ve seen the way Steve Rogers was watching you sing. He totally wants to hit that.” That makes you perk up a bit. 

“I doubt it. I have it under good authority that he hasn’t hit anything in over 70 years. I doubt I’m what he’s been waiting for.” You laugh. “Still, it’s fun to think about.” 

Dalia tugs you out of the locker room. “Come on, let's get back out there.” 

You sighed before stepping out of the locker room and seemingly out of this century. 

You fake laughed with a guest at the bar as you grabbed your tray of drinks and made your way over to the table that had been making you nervous all night. You placed the four whiskey rocks drinks on the tables. 

“Courtesy of Dean.” You say, placing the drinks down. Stopping at Tony Stark. “Don’t know why? You seem to be the butter and egg man out tonight. 

“Butter and egg?” He asks, looking to Steve and Bucky. 

“Means money man, High roller.” Bucky explains, Steve nods. 

“Ah, well I am that.” Tony says, laughing. “I must say Miss, what was it? Y/N?” You nod confirming. “I have to say you are quite the performer.” 

“Thank you kindly, Mr. Stark. Go ahead, dip your bill.” You say pointing to the drink, Hoping they’d get the hint. They did of course, after seeing Steve and Bucky take a sip. You watch Steve grimace slightly at the taste of the liquor. 

“Everything alright, fella?” 

You watch Steve flush at the attention being tossed his way. You can’t help the confident smirk that graced your face knowing it was you that had Steve Rogers flustered. “I’m fine, I just don’t enjoy the taste.” 

You hum. “Yea, it’s the big cheese’s favorite drink and he’s known for liking it rough.” You wink, somehow making Steve flush more. That made you want to push it more. “I’ve got some corn in the back they call the Y/N because it feels really good when it’s going down.” That makes Steve choke a little and induces a hearty laugh from the group. “Can I get you a glass, Soldier?”  

“Y-Yea, I’d like that.” Steve flushes. It was almost fun at this point. 

“I’d love to try the real thing.” Bucky says, flirting right back with a smirk you knew has to make every girl in the 40s weak in the knees. You didn’t indulge him though. 

“Well, aren’t you a regular cake-eater.” You smirk. “I’ll be back with two glasses.”  

“I see the serum didn’t enhance your ability to talk to pretty girls.” Bucky laughs as you want away. Steve can’t help but become a little distracted by the sway of your hips. 

The rest of the night seemed to go like that. You bringing them drinks and flirting with the captain anyway you could just to see the pretty flush that spread across his face. But soon the time came for the superheroes to take their leave. As you sat the check in front of Tony, you brushed a hand over the Captain’s shoulder admiring the broadness of them. 

“You’ll come back and see me, Sugar?” You say, phrasing it like a question despite it not really being one. Steve nods, dumbfounded by you. You smile and wink at him before walking away. 

You’re in the kitchen eating the pizza you had ordered earlier when your manager, Dean comes out of his office for the first time that shift. 

“Y/N!” You roll your eyes when you hear him scream your name. “What do you think you’re doing?!” 

“I’m eating dinner. Something I could’ve done on my break if I ever got one.” 

“You know you’re not supposed to be eating anything that couldn’t be made in the 30s. People pay for the illusion and if they see you gorging yourself on pizza, it ruins it.” 

“No one’s looking in the fucking kitchen, Dean.” 

“Uh-huh, and another thing. You know what kind of songs you’re supposed to sing.” You roll your eyes harder. You knew this argument was coming. “That song is from the 50s and you knew it.” 

“None of those bullshit hipsters know who Ella fucking Fitzgerald is!” You yell. “Much less what years her fucking songs came out. That song killed and that’s all that fucking matters.” 

“Change your set or you’re fired.” 

That makes you laugh in his face. “Uh-huh, as if you’re going to find a singer who’ll work as cheap as me.” You say, brushing past him. “See you tomorrow.” 

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

Steve comes back to the bar the following week. He tells himself that it’s just for a quick drink but he knew the real reason was because he could not stop thinking about you. He also knew you were probably just being friendly because it’s your job to. He just needed you to reject him so he could go on with his life. 

He found himself in that hallway again approaching the woman he had seen last week. 

“Evening, Sir.” She says. “Are you lost?” 

“Umm.. I have a meeting with Mr. Volstead?” Steve questions, not really recalling the password fully. 

The woman hums. “Nice night, no?” She says. 

“I prefer the rain.” 

The woman sighs. “I’m sorry. I typically would let you in because I don’t really care but technically I’m not supposed to let anyone who doesn’t know the password in… even if  they are kinda famous.” She says. “The password changes every week. I’m sure if you ask Mr. Stark, he can find it for you.” 

“Oh, no worries. Sorry for wasting your time.” Steve sighs, turning back out the building. 

He’s approaching where he parked his bike when he hears a string of expletives being screamed followed with a car stuttering before not starting. He looks over to see a woman angrily get out of her car and lift the hood to see it smoking. The woman lets out another stream of expletives before kicking the tire and leaning her head on the roof of the car, defeated. For some reason, he feels compelled to go over and see how he could help. As he got closer he couldn’t believe his luck, it was you. He tapped you lightly on the shoulder and you turned with the beginnings of tears in your eyes. 

“Oh, Soldier!” You said, quickly turning around to wipe your eyes and putting the facade you typically used with customers back up. “I almost got offended when you didn’t come back to see me. Imagine a broad’s old luck.” You said, smiling flirtatiously. Steve didn’t buy that smile for a second. He could see in your eyes you were still upset. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

“Oh, everything’s swell! This old jalopy has seen better days, gonna drop a dime to a friend hopefully--” You cut yourself off, switching into your normal speaking voice. “Listen, I’m sorry I just can’t keep talking like this off the clock. I’ll drive myself insane. Please, don’t tell my boss. I’m already on thin ice for not ‘maintaining the illusion’.” 

Steve laughs, a weight suddenly feeling lifted off his shoulders. Suddenly you weren’t this mysterious woman who seemed to have all the right things to say and how to say them. You were human, just like him. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He says. 

“Good.”  You say, smiling briefly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve gotta call Triple A for a tow.” You say, pulling your cell phone out. Steve had to admit it looked a little weird to see you with a cellphone in your olden days attire. 

“How will you get home?” He asks. 

“I’ll probably hoof it.” You shrug. “Or take the subway.” 

“At night?!” Steve says, incredulously. “No, I can take you if you’d like.” 

You look at him, hopefully. “I don’t want to be a burden.” You say. 

“You won’t be one.” He smiles. God, that smile made you feel a little weak. 

“Okay.” You smile back. 

“Are you hungry by chance?” He asks, as the two of you walk back to his ride. “I was going to eat in the bar but I couldn’t remember the password.” He says, sheepishly. 

That makes you laugh out loud. “Those passwords are such bullshit, Dean keeps changing them to keep it ‘exclusive’ but they always end up online anyway.” You say. “Every server has their own password, to keep track of regulars coming in. If you tell them you have a rose delivery for Mae, They’ll take you to my table no questions.” 

“Mae?” Steve asks. 

“For Mae West.” You explain, That makes Steve laugh again, of course you liked Mae West. “I could eat though. There’s actually a diner right down the road from here.” 

“Perfect.” He says, straddling onto his bike. He raises an eyebrow at you when you hesitate. “Something wrong?” 

“I’ve never ridden on a bike before is all.” 

“As long as you hold on to me, you’ll be fine.” He says, smirking when he sees a flush creep over your face as he hands you his helmet. It was about time for you to be flustered by your interactions. 

“I have no problems with that.” You say, placing that helmet on your head after you straddle the bike behind him. Your hands are tight around his waist as the two of you ride out of the lot, leaving Paradise behind. 

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink

[erensonly]

Cuddle Buddies (Bakugou x Black! Reader)

Chapter 11: Sparing

[series masterlist], [previous chapter], [next chapter]

Everything was going good with Bakugou, even though you were still his 'maid.' He was having you do simple, petty things that he could do by himself.

"Y/N, pass me the remote." The remote was right in front of him on the table.

"Baby, get me some water, I'm thirsty." The fridge was a few steps away.

"My back hurts and I cant reach my feet. Put lotion on them." That's disgusting. Feet are scary (you threatened to bite his big toe if he asked you to do that again).But besides that, you've been alright

Currently, you're walking down to the locker rooms to get changed into your hero costume. (i didn't know what to choose, so i found some on pinterest since i can't draw. but you can always imagine what you want)

^^ (from MAM BA on Art Station)

(^^ this one is like black widow from Marvel)

(I had some more that i liked way more, but couldn't find where they came from so i didn't use them)

Finished changing, you walk to the training grounds. Everyone turned around just staring since they hadn't seen your new hero costume since it was just finished a few days ago.

"You should've got colors to match mine." Of course.

"But then I would look more basic than I already do," you said sarcastically. He scoffed and flicked your forehead.

"Lookin' good, Y/N!" Denki exclaimed.

Accepting compliments is weird. So you just stood there and said an awkward thanks. The others agreed with Denki's observation. They all complimented you on you me hero costume.

"Alright class. Today, we will be doing basic training. I will assign each of you a partner and you will spar with each other to see who wins."

Everyone groaned when he said that he will be the ones assigning partners. Rolling your eyes, you wait until he calls your name.

"- and Y/N." Me and who? you thought. You see Iida walking towards you. Ugh, why did i have to get partnered with him of all people? When you first arrived at U.A, you didn't really like him and it's just unexplainable why you don't like him.

(this is my personal opinion. you don't like it, idk what to tell you bc i support iida slander:))

Walking to your spot, you get into a fighting stance, not wasting any time. You wanted to finish and leave as quick as possible. He readied himself as well.

"I don't want to hurt you fellow classmate, so I shall go easy on yo-" Before he finished his sentence, you had already pounced and landed your first hit on him.

Growing up, you found out about Krav Maga because you wanted to know how to defend yourself if another time came for you to. This fighting style is most realistic and will help you more if you're not looking for a technique to help you move quickly and efficiently to get away from you attacker.

Throwing a hook punch his way, you aim for his face, backing up slightly to dodge the jab he tried to throw at you.

He was fast, a little faster than you, but your moves were smooth and swift, ensuring that you could move just before he could hit you.

All of a sudden, he grabs you by the waist, trying to push you to the floor, but you're quick to get ahold of yourself and chop at his neck to shock him and get away.

Now that you're behind him, you kick his calf and grab his foot. He's about fall but then catches himself. Technically, he hasn't fallen to the floor yet, so you have to keep going.

Sighing to yourself, you activate your telekinesis and you grab ahold of as many pebbles as you can. Throwing yourself at him clumsily, he catches you and is about to boost himself to get you to the floor or on the grass.

What he doesn't know is that he 'boosters' are about to get clogged. Willing all the little rock's into his calf holes, he gets stuck and loosens his grip on you. He grabs ahold of a chunk of your hair, pulling you back.

Grabbing his hand, you're trying to turn as swiftly but gentle as possible to not pull on your hair too much. Trying to gain as much strength as possible, you turn and put your other hand on his arm, flipping him onto his back.

You did it effortlessly and won. You had dealt with bigger problems than this. Obviously, there were things you could work on, but you had been doing this for far too long to not have a pretty solid grip on it.

"And to conclude this battle, Y/N won," Mr. Aizawa said, very unenthusiastic. Walking away, you grab your water bottle and go to sit on the bench, waiting for the rest of your friends to finish.

Sero walked up to you and took a seat next to you. He had just finished his match with Aoyama. "You did amazing out there. You definitely have to teach me how to do that."

"Of course. I'll go easy on you if you can't handle it," you tease. You knew he could handle it and that he was pretty good in a hand to hand battle. He had to be in case he got in a face to face fight, he couldn't just swing off on his tape.

You both just sit there, talking and commenting on other people's fights. Laughing and joking about some.

Eventually everyone finished and it was time to get changed, and luckily, you all got out early since all the hero's had to go to a meeting.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You were sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through tiktok, when your brain told you to do it. 'Go mess with Kacchan.'

Skipping to his room, you peek your head in. He's playing a game. Probably with Kaminari, Kirishima and Sero. You saw Mina earlier with Jirou and Momo.

You sneek in the room, trying to be careful not to make too much noise so he doesn't hear you. You grab the discarded hoodie on the bed and put it on, pulling the hood over your head and tying the drawstring.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT. I SAID GO LEFT. AND NOW WE'RE ABOUT TO GET KILLED BECAUSE YOU WENT RIGHT."

You hear laughing and talking in the headset, but can't make out what they were saying.

"Oh lick my anus will you? Fuck off." Huh? You bursted out laughing. Who says that? He turned around, seeing you laugh at him and his sus behavior.

"Is this what you do when I'm not around? Who's licking your anus?" You couldn't stop teasing him. He deserves it.

"I didn't mean it literally." He was flustered. Embarrassed because you heard him say that.

"Whatever you say Kacchan." You go to lay down on his bed, waiting for him to finish his game. You had forgotten about your plan to annoy him and started to text Mina and Midoriya about what just happened.

"Who told you that you can call me by that dumbass nickname?" Now, his game was turned off and he was standing up.

"I did. Are you gonna stop me?"

He had that look in his eye. You couldn't tell it it was mischievous or just straight up evil. Not wanting to find out, you poke his butt and run out of the room.

He was chasing after you yelling about you touching his butt. You opened a random door and went in, instantly closing the door. You turned around and luckily it was Midoriya.

"Help me. Kacchan is after me," you laughed.

"What did you do this time?"

"Imayhavepokedhisbuttjustonce," you rambled.

"And what possessed you to do that?"

"It was there. Of all people, you should know how squishy it looks. Man has cake."

He looked at you surprised. "What do you mean 'I should now?' Why would I know about the squishy-ness his butt?"

You heard banging on the door. You squeaked, running to the closet and hiding behind all the hoodies and other clothes he had. "Hide me."

Looking at you, disappointed that you put him in the middle. "WHERE THE HELL DID SHE GO?"

"Kacchan, can you not yell. I am right here." (As he should)

"Huh?! Who are you talking to?"

"You... Duh." He had finally got a grip and started standing up for himself more. He realized his worth and won't let nobody take it from him.

Bakugou barged in the room. You covered you mouth to stop the laughs and heavy breathing from being too loud. He still heard you and dragged you out by your foot and arm.

Dangling awkwardly, you try to reach out for Deku. He just looked at you and looked at his phone. Getting once again comfortable. You definitely have to get back at him for this one.

Bakugou swung you from side to side softly until you were back in his room. "Kacchan, put me down before I bite those ankles boy."

He threw you on the bed. He lied down on top of you, going limp. He was heavy compared to you. "Kacchan move. It's too hot for this." That was the only excuse you could come up with even though there was a fan on high pointed directly at the bed.

He didn't move, just laying there motionless. You wriggle you hands out from under him and put them in his hair. His hair may look crunchy and hard, but it's extremely soft and fluffy.

You start to put little single braids in his hair the best you can at the angle you're in. "Did I tell you you did a good job at training today. You demolished Glasses," he boasted proudly.

"Thank you. It was easy. I thought there would have been more of a struggle. Guess not."

Finished with the last braid, you push him off of you, telling him to look in the mirror. He walked to the full-body mirror he had in his room. You cackled seeing his hair in braids.

"What did you do to my hair?"

"Nothing. It looks kinda good if you ask me."

Excusing yourself for a second, you go to your room to grab an extra bonnet for him. You walk back in and put it on his head. "Now you look like me."

He looked so goofy like this. You took a picture of the both of you in bonnets and posted it to instagram. Plugging your phone to the extra charger he had for you in his room, you grabbed the deck of cards in his nightstand.

"Wanna play Uno? Whoever wins gets whatever they want," you proposed.

"You're on." He grabbed the cards from you and started shuffling them. This was how you spent the rest of the night. Playing rematch after rematch because you both were too competitive for your own good.

You both were happy with each other. You were even almost ready to say the forbidden word to him. We'll see.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

And that is a wrap. I will see you soon with the next chapter.♥

[jarofstyles]

SK8ER BOI IV- Aerial

A/N: THE FINALE!!! Ugh we love these two so much, however, it definitely is a long shot for a highschool fic BUT it’s fun to pretend no? ✨- n + d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, making up 

word count: 8.8k

Y/N knew she fucked up, she fucked up so bad. She had pushed Harry away when she needed him most all because she was insecure? All because she thought that he’d think less of her and leave? Her worst nightmare came to life anyway, she did that to herself. She’d gone home early, catching a ride with Amber and well, Timothée didn’t seem to notice. Y/N was going to break up with him the next time she saw him, she was positive. It was all just a matter of time before it happened. 

Getting the text from Harry the next morning did surprise her. She thought she wouldn’t hear from him but... he said he had to show her something important? What could it be? She got dressed pretty quickly, not really thinking about how she looked, she just hopped in her bike and rode over. She was nervous to see him, would he still be upset with her? Of course, but she had stopped at the shop to get some snacks and a teddy bear to say that she was sorry.

Harry has showered and gotten dressed rather quickly, knowing she would be over quickly. He knew this would upset her. Not okay because Timothée would technically be lying to her but because it was to Harry. The guy she had gotten close to. He cleaned up his room even though he wasn’t sure she would want to come up there at all, waiting downstairs. When the bell rang, he was quick to answer and let her in. She had a shopping bag with her but he didn’t pay that any mind, bringing her closer into the house. Thank god his parents weren’t home today. 

“Listen, I know you’re pissed with me but I woke up to this. You needed to see if. If I sent you a screenshot you may think I’m lying so I needed you to open it up yourself.” He shoved his phone at her, unlocked. “Instagram. The top message.”

Y/N parked her bike and went inside as usual, being greeted by the kitties but Harry spoke before she could even react to them. She furrowed her brows, taking his phone from him and opened up Instagram. Timmy? She looked up at Harry with brows furrowed, seeing him nod so she opened the message. 

‘Heeeeeyyy Harry, know this is random and all but like... you’re so fucking hot’

‘I wanted to talk to you last night, didn't get the chance to’

‘but if you ever want me to suck your dick I can’

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was reading. Timmy? Sent that? To him? Last night? She swallowed thickly and just read over it a few times. He really didn’t bother telling her? Was just going to cheat behind her back and lead her on? Granted, she was cheating too, but at least she was trying to talk to him and cheating.. she didn’t want to do that. Y/N was speechless, looking up at Harry like a babbling fish. She wasn’t going to cry though, no. Y/N just had what she needed now to break up with him and she would. But not before she talked and apologized to Harry.

“I woke up and I saw those.” Harry swallowed. “And like, obviously I’m not your favorite person right now and I get if you want to leave now cause you saw but I had to show you. I’m not gonna answer but he should know M’gonna show you.” There was no denying it. Considering Y/N and Harry were very obviously getting close to begin with, it was something he was certain he would know. Why him out of all people? He didn’t know. “And I’m just.. wondering if he’s been doin’ that to other guys too that he knows do stuff so like... I just wanted to show you. I know we haven’t been doing much better and that like, cheating isn’t good to begin with but yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Damn. This was hard.

Y/N nodded her head, “no, thanks for telling me.” She said with a soft voice, letting out a small sigh as she handed him his phone back. “I can’t be too mad at him, or I'd be a hypocrite.” Y/N explained and let out a breath, “I’ll... I’ll talk to him later...” She said and then looked down at her bag. “I um...” Y/N started and started bringing up the bag. “I wanted to apologize though... it wasn’t fair of me to talk to you like that when you were just trying to be a good friend... you mean a lot to me and I hate knowing that I made you upset, that I made you feel like I didn’t want to hang out with you anymore...” She reached into her bag to get out a teddy bear that was holding a star. Originally she just went in to get the snacks but then she saw the bear sitting there and she knew she had to buy it. It reminded her so much of Harry and she hoped he liked it. “Will you forgive me?” She asked holding the teddy bear out for him. “I also got some snacks.....”

There was a little star on it. Harry wasn’t one for receiving gifts but this made him feel fond. How she knew him even though it hadn’t been that long. 

“Oh... you didn’t have to get me anything.” He murmured. He would cherish that bear till the day he died. It was thoughtful and lovely. “Course I forgive you. I just.. I hope you know I’m not some dickhead who’s out to get you.” He whispered. “I just want you to be happy. Whether it’s hanging around me or with him. I just hate seeing you sad.” He felt a bit vulnerable. She had tapped into his softer side with the star holding bear. It would be a treasured item of his. “Did you want to stay? Or go figure your stuff out?” He asked. He understood if she needed time to think alone.

“I know, but I wanted to.” She said shyly, pushing a piece of her hair away from her face. “You’re not a dickhead Harry, never thought you were.” Y/N wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She really did miss him, it had been a while since they hung out now that the project was over and because they had that little fight. “Can I stay? Missed you..” and she had. Y/N just wanted to sit around and listen to music and talk with him for hours. Catch up on the stupid shit Niall and Zayn said, maybe watch a movie while they ate their snacks, or they could just be munchies for him to have on his own when she inevitably went to talk to Timothée. “I’m gonna talk to him later..” Y/N repeated herself, pulling out her phone to text him saying they needed to meet up and have a chat. Timothée had agreed, probably knowing what the chat was going to be about because he’d never responded so quickly to her.

Harry kisses the top of her head tenderly. It was hard to refrain from being physically affectionate with her. She called to the caring bits of him and he wanted her to be happy to sit around and be held by him. 

“Course you can stay. Come on.” He grabbed her bag of snacks and carried them up with Y/N and the kitties following behind her eager for pets. It was good to have her back in his bed. To sit next to her while they munched on chips and have her curl up next to him. Her hand held his shirt as they watched some sort of documentary about true crime, and he was happy as hell just to have her there. His mind did wander. Could he ever have this for good? Have it so he could tell her sweet things and not have it be weird or crossing a line? Things felt like they were back to normal, the two of them cuddled up on his bed all comfy cozy and snacking. Y/N could stay like this forever she felt like. Her mind was now made up. She thought that she would be more upset about it all but now that she had something that solidified her beliefs? She didn’t feel so bad anymore. 

Y/N had spent the last 10 minutes of the documentary just admiring him. She’d missed being this close to him and of course, she missed kissing him, missed having his hands on her and hearing those sexy grunts of his. She couldn’t hold back anymore, she just cupped his cheek and turned his attention to her, leaning up to kiss him hungrily. Y/N just wanted to feel it again, feel him and connect with him, needed to remember what made her feel so good before she went to break up with Timmy.

When she kissed him, Harry immediately felt better. Knowing she wanted to kiss him again and didn’t regret anything they did soothed him fully, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer to him as he turned so he could kiss her. It was smooth and hot, her tongue against his as he got into her mouth. His hand held her back and kept her close to him, humming happily at the kisses she gave him. He missed it. Even a week of no kissing had made him sad, so to have it back meant a lot. When they pulled apart, he hid his face in her neck to breathe her in. It was warm and she smelled sweet and just like her. He needed that comfort. Needed her affections.

Y/N’s heart felt full again, he’d kissed her back with just as much passion and desire. He had missed her just as much as she missed him and that within itself was comforting. Her hands carded through his hair as he nuzzled against her neck, pressing kisses to the side of his head. Y/N was holding him tight, breathing steadying as she finally felt the calm overcome her. She didn’t say anything though. It was an unspoken thing that the two of them both knew they’d missed each other a lot, that the both of them needed this and just needed to hold and kiss each other like they were meant to. Y/N didn’t want to do anything until it was confirmed that she was broken up with Timothée despite it being that way in her head. Y/N could dare say she loved him but it had only been a month. They did have a very strong connection, that much was undeniable. She looked at him as he pulled back from her neck and pressed a few soft and gentle kisses across his face. Her angel. He had no idea how special he really was to her.

Harry scrunched his nose when she put a kiss on it, letting out a silent laugh. She was spoiling him with attention and it felt rather good. He couldn’t deny that. She had him by the balls. It wasn’t like he was going to open and spill his guts about how much he liked her— but he did. He liked her a lot. Y/N was lovely and soft and sweet to him, she kissed incredibly well, he loved her body and being intimate with her. It was like she pulled up on every stop. 

“Mm. Feels nice.” 

He wondered if she could potentially be his first girlfriend. Proper one. Where he kissed her every day and brought her to school and had her sleep over, made love to her. He wasn’t sure if she would be down for that but maybe eventually. He could wiggle his way into her heart if he was lucky enough.

Y/N smiled fondly at him, pushing pieces of his hair back behind his ear. She pressed another kiss to his lips, letting out a hum. “Please don’t cut your hair...” Y/N spoke softly, pressing another kiss to his cheeks and then his nose. “I mean, I know you’ll have to eventually but.. keep it long, it looks really nice.” After spending a week apart she really just wanted to shower him in affection, tell him all the things she was too scared to say before. She almost lost him. Y/N had long forgotten about the documentary, just focusing on him now. Had he somehow gotten more handsome? Or was she just even more fond of him than ever before? “I’m going to go talk to him, yeah?” She whispered softly, “just want to get it out of the way. I’ll go talk to him and I’ll come back and... and I’ll spend the night if you’d like? I would really like to..” Y/N spoke with blushy cheeks. It was all hitting her pretty hard, but she couldn’t tell him how she felt yet.

“Yeah.. can come back and sleep here.” Harry hadn’t woken up next to her in a while and he missed it. He missed her a lot. It wasn’t that long but he was starting to realize things that he hadn’t before. Things were becoming clearer. Like his feelings for her. He kissed her a few more times at the door, holding the back of her neck to keep her there. He didn’t want her to go but she would be coming back to him quickly and he was looking forward to it. “If you... if you want to, Tonight... we can.” He was dying to fuck her. Dying. And once she was free from him, if she was in the mood? He could more than ever give her a good time. That's what she deserved. “If not that’s fine too but... yeah.” He shrugged. Gently letting her go. “Call me if you don’t want to bike back. I’ll come and get you.”

Y/N looked at him stunned. He wanted to? he really meant what he said when he  gave her his ultimatum? She nodded her head as he let her go, cheeks flushed. “Okay.” She answered shyly, deciding she would have plenty of time to think about it once she got back from Timothée’s house. 

----

The bike ride over was spent thinking about what on earth she was going to say. Y/N knew she had every right to be mad but she also wanted to be there for him. What if he had no one else to go to? Well, at least there would be no more wondering after today. They were finally going to lay it all out on the table. 

“Hey.” She spoke as he opened the door, stepping inside and following him to his room. Y/N was incredibly nervous, but she had to stay calm. “So.. look, I don’t want to argue, but Harry showed me the DMs you sent him and I just... I wish you told me. I already knew but I didn’t want to push you to come out to me if you weren’t ready but... I care about you timmy, I want to be there for you.”

His face fell. 

“You saw, huh?” Timothée was hopeful maybe Harry wouldn’t show her but, his loyalties lie with Y/N. As they probably should. He didn’t know what to say. It was terrifying. “Please don’t tell anyone. Please ask him not to tell anyone either. I was drunk and it just came out and I’m sorry. To both of you. But please just... I’m not ready to tell people. I messed up.” He was obviously scared. “I know I’m an asshole. I know I should have told you but I don’t want anyone to know cause, I’m not able to deal with it myself.” He swallowed thickly, looking down. Y/N and Harry basically had his life in the palm of their hands.

“Hey, hey, hey...” Y/N frowned and went to wrap her arms around him in a hug. “You’re okay...” She whispered, petting his head gently to calm him down. “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone and Harry isn’t either...” Y/N wanted him to know that they respected his wishes. “Just really hurt me, you know? Cause I just wanted to be there for you... I understand why you didn’t tell me, but I thought of all people, you could trust me, ya know?” Y/N explained calmly, “I’m not mad at you... cause I have something to tell you too.” She was nervous to tell him but hey, she had every right to do what she did knowing now that he was gay. She was never more than a friend to him. “Harry told me cause um... he and I have been um... doing stuff.”

“Stuff?” Not only was his girlfriend— or ex girlfriend? Aware that he’s gay. She was with the guy he wanted. It sucks. So bad. “Oh...” Timothée wasn’t angry at her for the cheating aspect. More so because that meant Harry wasn’t going to want him. It was common knowledge that Harry fucked around a lot and it didn’t matter what gender. He liked that about him. It was jealousy. “Really? I mean... I know I wasn’t touching you and I’m sorry if I made you feel badly about it but... how did that even happen?” He hurt. Was sad. But she wasn’t angry at him. He couldn’t be angry about doing nearly the same thing.

Y/N nodded her head, knowing it must have hurt him because well... he did send that message for a reason. “It’s okay, I get why now...” She started, smiling a little at the thought of her and Harry. “I’ve um.. I had a crush on him for a long time and like... when we had to work together for the project I was um... yeah, it just happened.” Y/N blushed shaking her head a little because she was telling her ex boyfriend, who was gay, that she had been cheating on him. “You like him a lot don’t you?” Y/N could tell, it hurt her knowing he was struggling internally and hurting, but her feelings were valid too. “I’m sorry... but, we’ll find you a really nice boy yeah? Whenever you are ready. Promise.” She said, taking his hand. “I want to be okay again... still wanna be your friend and stuff. Can tell people we just grew apart if that’s what you’d prefer.” Y/N said and squeezed his hand a little, “Whatever you need.” She wanted to be there for him, she really did. “Harry and I aren’t official or anything... obviously... so, that won’t be a thing for a bit...”

“Yeah— Uh, we can do that.” Timothée said softly. It was two hits with one knife and it hurt. It sucks. But at least Y/N didn’t hate him. He was so worried she would. And that she wouldn’t ever talk to him again. “You really don’t hate me?” He was astonished. He had hidden a part of himself from her for a while and pushed her away over and over because of it and it had to have hurt. But she was offering to help him and get him a boyfriend? “I would hate me.” He was glad she didn’t though, accepting her gentle affection. “I’m sorry. That I made you feel like you were annoying. You weren’t. I was just... not able to give you what you wanted. I understand why you went to him.”

Y/N let out a chuckle, “no, I don’t hate you Timmy.” She said softly and let out a sigh. “I thought it was me for a long time... thought that maybe I wasn’t sexy enough for you or that maybe you just weren’t into me like that but didn’t want to hurt my feelings. But I could tell after a while because there was no chemistry like that, could tell I made you uncomfortable.” She explained with a sad sigh. “Kind embarrasses now actually thinking about it...” Y/N blushed and shook her head, “but yeah... I was really upset, I hated that you didn’t talk to me and yeah I was upset with you and angry but I could never hate you. Knew that you weren’t doing this on purpose...” She didn’t want to hurt his feelings or rub it in but she wanted him to know that even though he hurt her and couldn’t be there for her, Harry was. “He’s been really nice to me... Makes me feel really special and beautiful and... I really like him.” Y/N spoke and let out a sigh, “he doesn’t know that but..”

Timmy and Y/N continued their conversation as Harry ran to the store. He got condoms, he got some breakfast food for the next day, he also got a lollipop for her. It was cotton candy and reminded him of her. He quickly came back and fixed the house and changed his sheets to new ones. He wanted it seamless as possible if she was wanting him too. If she wanted to make love. If she didn’t, he would gladly just relax with her and be happy that they could finally move forward with their shit. Thank god. 

‘Hey, just a time check. Are you coming soon?’ He texted her, hoping she wasn’t in the middle of deep conversation with him. He was antsy and wanted her home with him. Wanted to have her strip down and change into maybe one of his shirts. He wanted to feel a bit of ownership.

Once Y/N was positive that Timmy was okay, she felt good. Much better about everything. “Hey. I love you.” She smiled and gave him a hug, “you’re gonna be okay. Promise.” She told him and then looked down at her phone. Harry. He was so cute her heart could burst. He was checking up on her and making sure she was okay. Her sweet angel. “I gotta go though, yeah? I’ll see you at school.” She said and gave him a sweet smile, “if you need anything just shoot me a text.” Y/N cooed and made her way over to her bike. 

‘On my way back now 💓’

And she was off. 

It was while she was riding back to Harry’s that she realized what he had told her earlier. How he said he wanted to  if she wanted to. The idea of it made her mind stomach erupt into a fit of butterflies. She was single now. Single and ready to be Harry’s whenever she decided to tell him how she felt. If he wanted her. 

Harry had told her to let herself in. He had been cooking for them. Just quesadillas and some rice but he knew she needed some food in her. He felt a hand run over his back and smiled to himself as he felt her sneak under his arm. 

“Hi.” He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. It was immediately a lot better. He felt like a weight was off his shoulders. She was here and single and he could do whatever he wanted to her. Perhaps it was reckless because he didn’t know how she truly felt but he would take anything at this point. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to want to fully discuss what had just happened so instead, he handed her a plate he had already made before taking his food off of the pan and sliding it on the plate for himself. “Where do you want to eat?”

“Can we eat on the roof? I wanna watch the sunset.” Y/N thought it would be really romantic and nice and if they were going to do stuff then well... she wanted to get them into the romantic mood. Of course with them it always took just one word and suddenly the two of them couldn’t get their hands off of each other. Since hanging out with Harry, she had become a lot more vocal in bed or a lot more okay with being vocal in bed. She still got shy asking about stuff from time to time, but he was pretty good at encouraging her. They had pretty much done all the basics except for actually vaginal penetration and well... she had yet to give him a blow job. 

“I know you’re wondering.” Y/N spoke, deciding to let him know. “Timmy and I are good... he apologized, asked that we don’t tell anyone about it. Our story for breaking up is that we grew apart and out of love. He was really scared... but I’m glad that things worked out.”

“Good. Hope he knows M’not gonna out him to anyone or anything but you.” He wasn’t that type. “I know I’ve been open about not giving a shit what gender I would used to fuck around with but I know not everyone is lucky enough to have that mindset or be open about it.” Pussy had always been a favorite though. While he did fuck guys, he was more into women. “I’m glad that you’re better though. Have more clarity. Feel better about it.” He did feel a lot better about it now. Knowing she was going to be single now. He could try and say how he felt without saying it. “Also.. my mum comes home this week. If you wanted to stay over on the weekend again— she’s cool, she’ll like you. My parents don’t get weird about like, sex or alcohol. They always said if they didn’t let us experiment that we would find unsafe ways to do it. Granted... I’ve never had someone over to do anything, but you’re different. She’ll love to have you over.”

Y/N always knew about how he didn’t mind who he had sex with, it didn’t really bother her either because it was none of her business anyway as long as he stayed loyal to her. Fuck— she hated that in her mind he was already hers, felt like her breaking things off with Timmy meant they were together but things didn’t work like that. 

“You want me to meet you mom?” She was shocked because she knew his family meant a whole lot to him. They didn’t seem to be home a lot but when they were it was likely a big deal. He was already inviting her back over to meet his mom? “I’d love to.” Y/N smiled softly, “I um... I gotta give my mom an excuse though.” Maybe if Y/N explained the situation to her mom she’d let her go. Her mom would likely be skeptical of Harry but if she knew just how smart he and how nice his family was she definitely wouldn’t have a problem with it.

“You can come up with something.” He shrugged. She always did. Y/N was at his house during the weekends but didn’t always sleep over. It would be fun if she could stay the whole weekend. 

“My dad isn’t gonna be home yet but honestly... probably better. He’s full of jokes.” He laughed. “I don’t want you to be overwhelmed. I just think if we’re gonna hang out more, it’ll be cool for you to know my family.” See if they got along. Granted, it didn’t matter but he knew Y/N would get along with his sister and mum. No doubt. “They’re in and out. My mom goes on book tours. Dad is home more but since we’re older and don’t need to be home as much, he either goes with my mum or works more. It’s kinda cool. He was around a lot when we were kids.” He had a good family.

Y/N felt her heart flutter, it made her happy to know he wanted her around. If she was special enough for her to meet the family, that meant something right? “That’s really nice... They seem really cool, I’d love to meet them.” She said honestly as she finished up her meal. “Thank you for dinner, it was very good... I didn’t know you could cook.” 

She was beginning to realize there was a lot that she didn’t know about Harry, but there were lots that she did know and loved. She could see the two of them going really far together, felt like the two of them really clicked and got each other. From day one they just seemed to get each other. He was great. She wanted him to know that, wanted him to understand how thankful she had been for the past month that they’d spent together. Harry had taught her so much about herself and what she wanted and showed her what it felt like to be truly adored and cared for. She decided that she would give herself to him tonight. She was already his anyway.

“C’mon. Let’s watch something else. Getting cold out here.” Harry wouldn’t be able to see many stars since it was getting cloudy out and he was more concerned with getting her in his bed and kissing on her for a while. They brought their plates inside and Harry left her in the bed as he went down to put the dishes away. He came back up to see her laying upside down, a smile rising to his face. “Alright, silly bunny. If you’re staying here, gotta be comfy, hm?” He walked to his drawer and grabbed a tee shirt of his. “You want boxers with this? Sweats?”

Y/N smiled and rolled over so she could sit up properly, looking at him with a raised brow. “Do I need them?” She asked with a raised brow, deciding that she’d be just fine in a T—shirt and panties. She decided to change in front of him, seeing as it wasn’t really much. Y/N took off her jeans and slipped off her sweater, pulling on his shirt and took her bra off from under it. She folded her clothes and put them off to the side as usual, climbing up into bed. Y/N could see the look on his face but she wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It was then that she remembered that when they first met she would never do something like that. Now though? She was entirely comfortable around him, she could be naked all she wanted with him. He made her feel beautiful. “What?” She giggled, sitting up and crossing her legs, smiling as muffin came to get her pets and cuddled from Y/N. “Hi sweet girl.” Y/N cooed, scratching behind the kitties ears. It was here that Y/N felt most comfortable and most at home. With Harry.

It was odd. That he felt so comfortable with her. That this was normal and cool and comfortable and he was happy to see her on his bed. 

“Nothing. I just like seeing you in my stuff.” Harry never had wanted anyone in his bed or his clothes and looked so comfortable. When he got into the bed, muffin ran off, looking annoyed Harry had interrupted her cuddles. He was quick with grabbing Y/N’s waist and hauling her to sit on his lap as he sat against the headboard, pulling her against him. “Mm. Hi.” He murmured. His kisses started at her cheeks and moved down her jaw, her neck. He bit down gently, knowing he couldn’t mark her just yet.  Not visibly anyways. “You look really good, wearing my stuff.” He muttered, hands not shy about going underneath the shirt and holding her hips. He had taken his shirt off before getting into bed. He usually always kept something on, even if it was a tank top. But there he was in sweats and nothing else and Y/N felt her heart in her throat it was beating so heavy. Y/N squeaked a bit, placing her hands on his bare chest and hummed. 

“You look really good... not wearing a shirt.” She mumbled out shyly, relaxing into his kisses and touches. Her heart was so full, she couldn’t believe it. Here with him, alone with no worries at all. It was then against the world. They were untouchable together. Y/N let her hand tug at the roots of his hair, making him look at her properly again. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him how she felt so bad, she didn’t want him to think that she just wanted him for sexual favors, she loved hanging out with him too. Y/N wanted to show him, wanted him to understand. 

“Wanna make you feel good..”

Harry hadn’t let her touch him at all, in the sense of pleasing him. Sure, he had cum all over her but he hadn’t had her mouth on him. It had felt too intimate oddly enough. He was worried that no one else would compare if she never broke up with him. Now? All bets were off. 

“Yeah... okay.” He murmured. “We can try that.” All other times had been no. “Just...” he was surprised at how eager she was to get in between his thighs, looking eagerly up at him as her hand rested on his waistband. Had she truly been this deprived? “Okay— okay, bunny.” He smiled. “Go ahead. Do you want me to tell you want to do or do you just wanna... explore.”

Y/N hadn’t expected him to agree so easily, of course she was eager to get his pants off and do as she pleased. She’d never done it before but she knew the basics. No teeth, take as much as you can, the tip is most sensitive. Y/N looked up at him with a bright smile, finding a place between his thighs. 

“Wanna find out for myself...” She spoke with a blush, “want to see what makes you feel the best.” Y/N explained, hands moving to pull his pants down. She was met with his cock which was rather big even soft, but she could tell that he was getting hard just watching everything unfold. She had remembered how he said he liked a mess, so she gathered as much spit as she could and let it drip down onto his cock. Y/N kept eye contact with him, moving her hand to wrap around him gently, adding a little pressure when she got a positive reaction.

Harry could die happy. Already. His breathing got heavy as he looked down at her, spitting thickly on his cock and stroking him slowly, watching his face. 

“Yeah... I like that.” He whispered as she got him messy. Spreading her spit on him, she looked lusty and excited to finally be touching him. He thinks perhaps this is the claiming rights. That she knew in her head that it was her cock now. Hers to lick and suck and ride whenever the fuck she wanted. Because there was no way he could say no to her now. “That’s good.” He felt himself get harder. It wasn’t difficult. Y/N got him aroused so easily. So perfectly too. She was a wet dream. “I’ve thought about this so many times.”

Y/N was happy to hear him react to her actions. He was always vocal in bed and she loved that, especially when he was stroking her ego. She let more spit travel down his cock until she felt him get hard in her hand, being bold enough to lick from the base to the tip. His moan was music to her ears. 

“I love it when you make noise for me...” Y/N hummed, going back in with her tongue all innocently moving up and down his cock just seeing what he liked best. It wasn’t until she started focusing on that little spot right on his tip that she realized the power she held. She remembered the first time he pleasured her, how he was relentless and continued on doing exactly what made her twitch the most. So she did the same, sucking and licking at his cock, taking as much as she could at a time.

“Fuuuck me. That’s it, Y/N. Good girl.” Harry hissed. His hand was on her head, gently caressing her hair and watching her tongue lick over the spot and suck when she felt like it.

“Nothing is prettier than that mouth stretched around my cock. Hm— not until I get inside your cunt and make you feel it. But you’re doing so well. Driving me mad.” He muttered, helping her move her head down a bit lower when she felt like it. He gently fisted her hair, not pushing too hard but having a steady grip of it. He liked that bit of power he had even if he wasn’t using it yet. He loved having this type of power. She was suckling at the tip of his cock, tongue rubbing against the most sensitive spot. “You gonna let me inside of you today? Or not yet, baby?”

Y/N was very much enjoying sucking on his cock. It was satisfying getting a reaction out of him and his praises made her feel even more special. She was getting the hang of it too, felt like if she did this more often she’d be a pro, but she was just taking it easy and seeing where it went. 

Her mouth popped off of him when he asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“You wanna?” She asked, feeling herself get all blushy. “I—I know you said it earlier but..” Y/N sat up properly but let her hand continue working over his cock. Of course Y/N wanted to let him inside. God, she’d been begging him to fuck her for weeks now and he was finally giving her what she wanted. It was her virginity, but she still felt special when he said he would be her first. She knew he would be gentle and would make it really romantic for her.

“I’ve wanted to for weeks. I wanted to fuck you the first day. But I had to wait and now... I can.” Harry wanted her pussy so badly. Of course he had fucked before but this was different. There was emotion and heat and everything in it. He knew that she would love it. “It’s up to you if we do or not, darling. I’m happy with your mouth on my cock. Can lick out your little holes too, if that’s what you’d like to do instead.” He offered. Y/N deserved that. The choice was hers. “I just want to be buried in you. S’gonna be so good. And then... I can take you everywhere. In my car, at the skate park behind the tree... I want to have you so many places. Mark them like that.” He purred. Maybe she would be adventurous with him.

“I—I want to.” Y/N nearly choked out from excitement, “I want it so bad.” Y/N knew that he’d take really good care of her like he always did. He’d make sure she was comfortable and make sure she felt beautiful and cared for and special and just all of those good things he always did. She understood that when having sexual for the first time you bond with that person in a way, grow attached. Y/N wouldn’t mind growing attached to  Harry because she already has. She felt like when he was finally inside of her, she could really show him how she felt about him, feel as close as humanly possible to him and feel entirely wrapped up in him. It was that level of intimacy... she wanted it so bad. She moved up so she was on top of him, straddling his lap with her clothes cunt pressed against his cock. “Want you to take me..” Make me yours. She wanted to add, but she hoped her eyes could communicate that for her.

“I will. Let’s get you prepped, hm?” Harry gently rolled them over so he was on top. He moved down her body, kissing over the clothes and stopping at her panties. Placing a kiss right over the mound, he pulled the panties down her legs to reveal her cunt. “Always wet for me.” He felt pride in that. Especially because she was always soaked and he barely had to do anything to get her that way. Granted, it was the same for him. “Good girl. I love this cunt.” He rubbed his cock against it as he moved back up her body. He had grabbed a condom and gently ripped it open, sliding it onto his length. One day he would do it without the covering but he wasn’t sure if she was on the pill or not. Didn’t want to ask. “S’gonna feel odd. Hurt a little, maybe but it’ll stop once I’m all the way in. It’s normal. Once I get going it’ll feel a lot better. I promise, I’ll make it good. I’ll make you cum.”

Y/N looked up at him and nodded, watching as he rolled the condom on. He was now properly naked and she still had her shirt on. He had yet to see her tits bare... they’d always done stuff with clothes somewhat still on. So she sat up and pulled her shirt off, she wanted to be skin to skin. 

“Okay..” She laid back down and got comfortable, cupping his cheek as she looked up at him. Y/N didn’t think she would want to be doing this with anyone else, it was all so real. All the weeks that they’d spent together, every sexual act they did lead up to this. She gasped a little when he pushed in, squeezing her eyes shut a bit at the discomfort but it passed after a few seconds. Y/N softened, trying her best to relax. It was... an interesting feeling to say the least. He was slowly filling her up, touching places she’d never touched before herself. “H—harry..” She whimpered, arms hooking under his shoulders.

“I know baby. I know. S’a lot.” Harry knew it would be overwhelming. Especially because he was so big. She was quite tiny in the pussy and he knew that it would be uncomfortable at first. “Just hold on to me.” Pressing kisses to any spot he could reach, he was trying to soothe any discomfort as he finally sunk all the way in. A deep groan of pleasure left him as he finally did fill her up. She was clenching like crazy and it felt ungodly good, but he needed her to relax. “Just relax around me, baby. Know s’hurting a little bit, focus on how good it feels. You’re full of me, yeah? Feels good to be full.” He knew that would be a different way of looking at it for her. He hoped that this was going to be as good for her as it would be for him. “There you go, bunny. Relax yourself. Feels better.” He moved slightly and she whimpered again. “Want me to move a little? Get you used to it?

Y/N was taking slow deep breaths, trying her best to relax herself around him. She let out a happy whine at his kisses, loving how warmth sprouted wherever he placed them. She felt more at ease with them.

“‘m so full..” She breathed, “feel you in my belly, daddy.” She always thought people were joking when they said that it changed you chemically, but Y/N was definitely much more soft and floaty, more willing to listen to him. “Feels good.” She told him, letting out a little ‘Mhm’ when he asked if she wanted him to move. 

“Oh—”

He hit a spot. She wasn’t sure what it was because she’d never felt anything like that before, but it felt so incredibly good. The more he moved the more she began getting used to the feeling of him stretching her out. There was something so erotic about the little noises she was letting out. So repetitive, every time he was hitting that spot deep inside of her. ‘Oh’ and ‘uh’ and ‘daddy’ with the whimpers, shaking slightly in his hold. 

“That’s it. You’re taking it so well. Said you can feel me in your precious little tummy?” Harry hummed, hips gliding in deeper so she could feel the full effect of it. It was beautiful. He couldn’t get over it. She was giving him every little bit of her body. He was kissing on her and whispering sweet and dirty things. “Best pussy, baby. Feels so good. So right and wet... love filling you up. Gonna feel me for days.”

Y/N was overwhelmed with feelings. They seemed to keep flooding in the more she thought about how Harry was making love to her. With slow, long, accurate thrusts he was gently coaxing it out of her. The part of her that is human and was born to do this. 

“Can go faster...” She breathed, wanting him to speed up a bit now that she had properly gotten used to the feeling of him inside of her. He was so good to her, so patient with her, and knew exactly what she needed in any given moment. They’d bonded so much and this was just solidifying it. They were very much going to be a part of each other’s lives. Y/N was a moaning mess once he got a rhythm going, writhing in pleasure beneath him. “It’s so— oh daddy!” She whined, clenching around him when he hit a particularly good spot. “You’re—” She wasn’t one to talk dirty, but she wanted to. She wanted to learn and be dirty for him.

Getting Y/N to babble dirty things was a highlight for sure. Harry was going faster now, harder. She was warmed up and ready to take more. He was fucking into her eagerly, whispering filth to her. 

“That’s what I like. Precious little cunt clenching around me like that. You’re so hot around me too. It’s meant to be fucked by my cock, fits me perfectly inside of you.” He whispered, thriving off her whimpers and her nails digging into his back. “Are you going to let me fuck this pussy when I want it?” He muttered. Dirty talk but also a slight claim of ownership. “Let me bend you over or spread your legs open for me to slide in again? Cause... you’re a horny little girl. Been so needy for me and now m’obsessed with you and your pussy.”

Y/N was obsessed. She loved the feeling of having him inside her and knew she would crave it whenever she could get it now that she had it. She was thankful that Harry had made her wait, it felt so much better having him now than it would have ever before. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. She came with a loud scream of his name, squirming and writhing beneath him. Y/N swore she was in love with him, or would be shortly. Maybe he was right about the bonding thing, because now she couldn’t think about doing this with anyone else... Ever. He satisfied her every need.  All she could manage to do in her post orgasmic state was kiss all over his face, whimpering as he moved his hips every so often. She couldn’t believe it had finally happened and that he was actually able to make her cum on her first time. He was amazing. 

Harry had known that their first time would be amazing but this was a whole other level. He was in awe of just how incredible it felt to be inside of her. The other sex he had had couldnt compare to that. Emotion in sex had been the key. It unlocked so many emotions and needs he hadn’t realized he had and he was gone for her. Y/N was his. Completely his. When they’d both calmed, he took care of her. Cleaning her up and picking up his shirt from the side to let her slide on. Giving her a water bottle from his mini fridge. It soothes him, taking care of her like that. 

“S’the first time I’ve had sex in my room.” He admitted to her, pulling her close. “The only person I want to touch is you. So... you’re the only one.” He kissed her forehead. Y/N was ultra sensitive, he could see that her body was still shaky and she would be sore tomorrow. “Gonna run you a bath in the morning because you’ll be sore. I didn’t go as gentle as I should have. It felt too good.”

Y/N felt nice and floaty, every touch was welcome. She was like a little kitten, purring as he cleaned her up and gave her his shirt to wear. It felt so nice, to be completely wrapped up in his scent. She felt so safe, so warm and cared for. 

“You’re the only one for me too..” Y/N murmured against his chest, nuzzling close to him. Of course he was the only one, she was just loopy. “A bath?” She hummed, “that's very nice, Harry, you’re so nice.” Y/N noses at his skin, sponging gentle kisses to his chest without moving her head all that much. “It’s okay... I felt really good.” She giggled, curling her leg around his. “You’re my best friend, you know that? I really care about you...” Y/N told him, getting all sentimental. Timmy has been her best friend for years but Harry... Harry had been there for her through all of this. Was so supportive and waited for her, even when she was being stupid. She felt like she loved him.

Harry really liked her but he didn’t know how to word it right. How to tell her that he felt attached to her and hated that she ever left him at all. For food or to sleep. He was selfish with her. 

“My best friend too.” He promised. It felt more than that though. It felt like kisses and sex and honey and all the good things. Intense emotion that was foreign to his heart. At first he had genuinely thought it was heartburn but it was the overwhelming amount of affection he had for her. He felt like he could burst. It was incredible. He wanted her to be with him. He couldn’t verbalize that properly so, he was quiet and kissed on her gently. “Care about you so much. More than anyone.” That was the best he could do for now. “Can do that all the time, if you want.” He knew sex with her would be mind blowing always.

“All the time?” Y/N questioned softly, he would have to be careful with that offer. He knew better than anyone that she was  constantly horny, but Harry never said no so maybe he had met his match. Y/N felt properly relaxed now, feeling herself gently fall into a sleepy state. She knew now that they both cared about each other a whole lot, realized that the two of them were essentially exclusive, but putting a label on things now seemed too out of place. Y/N really wouldn’t mind, though everyone at school would be thinking Y/N left Timmy if she just started kissing all up on Harry at school. They needed to wait a bit and figure things out. “Good night, Harry..” Y/N hummed, knowing she’d be asleep at any minute especially with the sound of his steady heart beat lulling her to sleep. It always felt so comfortable with Harry, felt like she belonged whenever she was with him. Was this what it was supposed to feel like?

Harry stayed up for a bit thinking. Realistically, he knew he couldn’t just kiss on her at school. They’d have to sneak around for a bit. He didn’t mind if people talked shit about him but Y/N has a gentle heart and it would hurt her to be talked about like that. He didn’t want her to be hurting at all. He stroked her hair as she slept on his chest. It felt like much more of a big deal now. It wasn’t just child’s play. This was a real adult emotion and Y/N was victim to his affection. Not that it seemed like she minded but, still. It was a lot and he knew that.

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

A/N: FIN. 

let us know what you think!

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[mxvladdy]

Lucifer- True Form

Went ham. Had fun. Here is some angst (minor) and fluff and stuff.

Next up: Plot twist! Diavolo 

He wears the heaviest glamour out of all of the brothers. The rage and pain from being cast from heaven has warped his angelic body. Turning him into a husk of his former divine glory. He is massive. His body is tall and gaunt. His large form towers over the oak trees of the Devildom forest, each step of his gnarled feet leaving chard prints in their wake. Lucifer is deceptively strong for as emaciated as he looks.

After the war his body is in a constant state of trying to heal itself. His skin hardens into a thick scab before flaking off, only to reform moments later. His body trying to reform to its old self, even after he had fallen. It gives him an almost dripping look. When larger pieces flack off you can see stark white bones underneath for the briefest of moments before the darkness swallows it whole again. It is a continuous breaking and mending, a maddening itch and perpetual soul deep ache.

The halo that once sat righteously atop his crown is now embedded in it. It is buried deep into his skull and shattered after his fall to the Devildom. In a vain attempt to make it look better he filed and broke pieces away styling them the best his broken pride could. They resemble large branching antlers now, sharp and lethal. Ancient hymns lost to time that were engraved by his father when he was young are now worn and dingy, the text indistinguishable in part. It was a tarnished holy relic that only the foolish would try to take (And many souls from all three realms have tried). A few centuries ago he got the jagged edges capped and adorned with gold. Bright red garnet and jewels are interwoven in thin, but strong, gold chains drape over the distorted halo. It was a gift from Diavolo, as the prince somehow finds this form beautiful.

Like Mammon, he is littered with scars from battle not even his healing magic can mend. They have made him slower, the constant mending of his tattered flesh has made it grow stiff and subsequently stunts his range and movement. Scars layer upon scars across his body. Twisting in on themselves like bark. His own personal chains. The holes where he discarded his wings in an act of defiance are now blackened craters in his back. He is unable to heal those that are self inflicted.

You can hypothesize his inability to heal this form as a battle of will. His own mind and body in inner-turmoil, parts of him wanting to continue a torture he doesn’t deserve.  

It is fine, it is his burden to bear.

On the rare rainy days you can hear his joints creak and groan as his skin tears and reform. His bones grind together chillingly. He believes it is symbolic. His body groaning under the strain over-encumbered by the weight of his sins. All the brothers know to give him space on those days.

Even in his human glamour he wears stiff fabrics and corsets to help brace his body and give him an air of dignity even when he just wants to crumple at his desk.

He knew his actions in the celestial realm would have severe repercussions; but he never could have imagined it to be this abhorrent. This was truly the cruelest punishment his father could have ever bestowed on him. A form he can find no pride in.

Mini fic

Ugh. Everything hurt.

If the knot in your neck got any bigger you doubt you’d be about to move out of your chair. You close your textbook with a quick snap, done for the day. Any more drawn out paragraphs from magicians long since dead and you were going to scream. The hours in the school study hall had been beneficial but draining. The tutor on duty that day, a low-level demon named Drath, had taken a shine to your eagerness to learn and was more than willing to sit with you to talk out some of the more advanced runes you were struggling with. They had moved on to help a few more students after a while, pleased with your new understanding of Devildom magic. You stretch out in your seat, grunting softly as your spine pops. Tired of your studies you rise to perch at the window of the large room. The large windowsill overlooked the courtyard of the campus. A few students and professors run out in the courtyard trying to find shelter from the rain.

The sudden downpour had hit during lunch. The torrential downpour hammers at the windows and roof of the school. Trees and bushes tossed about in the high winds, flattened by the rain. Bright flashes of lighting blinding your eyes every so often making you blink the spots from your eyes to see the white board. Truthfully, the storm looked like it had settled on the school, happy to howl and pelt any unlocky souls with oversized raindrops. Shoot, you had hoped it would have waned by the end of classes. You hadn’t grabbed your raincoat or umbrella that morning. Cloudy days were common enough here, but rain? Has it ever rained while you were here? You peak at your phone, debating if you should text one of the brothers to come bring you an umbrella. Hmmm- you still had thirty minutes left before your study time was officially over. Maybe you’d get lucky and it would lighten up before you were forced to head back to the dorms.

You had made plans to go to the new outdoor cafe with Asmo and Beel after dinner. A little something to take you collective minds off the daunting midterms looming over you all. Lucifer’s warnings had been very clear. All residents of the house had to get good grades, no exceptions. His sharp eyes had lingered on Mammon and Asmodeus a little longer than the rest. You could feel the heat of his dark eyes even from your chair across the table. You weren’t a horrible study, but somethings just weren’t clicking like they should. It was a little stressful (a lot stressful). After a few nights of stress sobbing with Beel you had finally gone with Solomon to his study group. A few weeks of lessons and you felt much better. Good enough to celebrate. If the damn weather would take the hint.

As if the weather was attuned to your thoughts a huge flash of bright orange lightning cracked across the sky. It rattled the stained glass window, the light blinding you. Great. Blinking the white dots from your vision you turn back to your desk. Looks like you were just going to have to make a run for it.

“Forgot something?”

“Lucifer!” You smile accepting the large umbrella from his gloved hand. “Thanks! I didn’t know you were still on campus.”

“Yes. I had a few errands and meetings with Diavolo cramped in.” He looks down at you with a tight-lipped smile. In the bright light of the room you noticed beads of sweat forming on his smooth brow trailing down his temples. His eyelid pulsed, fluttering with his heart beat. If you hadn’t been staring you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You look at him, noticing how despondent his normal ridged prideful aura was. He stares blankly down at one of your large tomes struggling with the large clasps.

“Are you well?” Lucifer blinks, dropping the metal bindings as if burned. He licks his pale lips for a moment in contemplation. Something just on the verge of slipping out. But, it is quickly lost shuttered away behind his normal lofty expression.  

“What makes you say that?” He asks. Lucifer turns away from you to collect your things. “Come, We’ll be taking the back way to the house. It has better coverage and the storm has yet to reach it.” You follow behind quietly, waving a quick goodbye to Solomon and Drath.

The silence around Lucifer was different today. Normally he hid his agitation from you, only bringing it out if it was directed towards you. You’d only seen him like this when Mammon had done something foolish. “Lucifer, what’s wrong.” You try again catching his sleeve to pull him back. It all happened so fast. A sharp inhalation of breath, his arm jerked from yours. His whole being repelled by your touch. He rounds on you, eyes flashing dangerously. He never minded when you touched him before. “Luci?”

“Please,” He cuts you off with a trembling hand. “I am fine. Let’s get home before the storm worsens.”  He drops you off at the front stairs and excuses himself, muttering about other business to attend to. You stare after him deeply perturbed. He was never the most touchy-feely of the seven, but he was always straight with you after what happened with Belphie. To be so physically distant worried you.

He wasn’t at dinner. The head of the table was devoid of his strong presence. The other brothers seemed to be making an unusually strong effort not to look at the vacant spot. Even Satan, who you thought would be smirking at the fact the eldest had broken his own rules, sat eyes glued to a book perched in his lap. His golden spoon paused midway to his mouth. It was almost like nothing was amiss. “Is Lucifer o.k?” You turn to Levi, his head buried in his handheld, food halfway eaten. His fingers pause for a moment over his screen.

“Ye, he’s fine. Just doesn’t like the rain is all.” Oh. It doesn’t settle your worries but if no one else was stressing…

The storm lasted well into the night. The rolling thunder keeps you up well past when you should be sleeping. That and the annoying creaking that echoed out from your unlit fireplace. Or was it your window? The groaning and grinding sounds permeated the air of your room, picking up intensity at odd intervals. It reminded you of a swaying tree caught in a hurricane. Limbs twisting and snapping in the wind as it is battered from all angles, its thick trunk losing the fight to stay upright. The low grinding of it all resonating in your chest, deep and palpable. It was so loud, and the forest was so far away. Irritated, you push yourself out of bed, determined to find a place where the noise couldn’t reach you.

Pacing the long desolate hallways you try to retrace your steps to a lesser used room. Maybe steal one of Belphie’s favorite sleeping nooks. As you make your way down the hallways you begin to notice the sounds of the trees getting louder. Like you had suddenly found yourself in a grove of winding and dancing trees.  You take a sharp left determined to find the cause of the noise and put an end to it. In your frustration you almost missed the door left ajar. Mid stride you stop. Who would be up at this hour? Coming closer you recognize the door.

It was Lilith’s room. The warm glow of firelight pulsing on the velvet of the hallway rug. The groaning sound of trees comes from behind the ornate door. You bristle, if one of the brothers was setting up stupid prank this late at night you’d kill them.

The eldest of the brothers stood staring into the pits of the roaring hearth. His dark eyes were glassy. The reds of his iris reflect the dancing flames. He was completely obvious to your intrusion. Clothes lay scattered about the floor haphazardly, his shirt, vest and overcoat were thrown across the floor, pants hanging low on his narrow waist. Lucifer moves closer to the roaring flames with less then his usual grace. His left leg seems stiff, the knee unwilling to bend fully as he walks. In the magically created sunlight of the room you notice his alabaster skin shift and flicker, like a TV with a bad connection. One second it was smooth, the next chard rough patches litter his skin. The black welts and molting flesh flash before you then disappear. He croons deep in the back of his throat as the flames lick at his outstretched hand. Again the sounds of tree limbs snap assault your ears as he flexes his fingers.  

You stand rooted to the spot unsure of what to do. This was a very vulnerable moment for him you were sure. When was the last time you saw him with his body fully uncovered? Never. You really should give him some privacy. This was clearly not something he wished for anyone to see. Yet your heart wept for him. Lucifer was clearly in pain. Bare fingers digging large groves into the stone of the fireplace. His jaw twitching as sharp pains rack his body. “I know you're there.” He pins you in place with his husky voice. “It’s rude to stare.”

You stumble in, legs trembling. You could feel the rant coming. Bracing yourself you squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the torrent. Whatever he was going to say was cut short, a hitched breath making you look up. He is gripping at his side, unable to look at you. “Lucifer?” He raises his free hand to you, ignoring you to limp to the overstuffed armchair. He hunches over shielding his face in his large palms.

“It’s best if you forget you saw this. Please leave.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Leave.” He repeats again more firmly. “I wish to be alone.” He waves you off. You hear the creaking again. It moves with him.

“Is that you?” You ask. Watching him adjust himself in his seat. The sound of twigs bending to their max before snapping answer your question.

“Astute observation as always.” He grunts rubbing at his knee. “One would think Mammon is rubbing off on you.” His biting jab is dry. His eyes dart to the rainfall outside. His insult completely lacks his usual sting. But then again his barbs were always softened with you.

“It’s the rain isn’t it?” You ignore his blatant want for solitude, feed up with his stupid broodiness and unwilling to let a friend hurt. “My granddad was that same way. His joints would just ache and pop during really bad weather.” He puffs up for a second, comparing him to an old man twisted sourly in his gut. “Let me help?”

“How?” He whispers beyond tired suddenly. He had talked to Barbatos earlier that day. The storm was here to stay for the time being. A day or two at most. To him it would be an eternity. You approach, hands raised as if to a cornered animal. In a way he felt like it. He sits still, allowing you to approach. Lucifer chokes back a small whimper of bliss as you touch him. Your palms were so warm, resting and rubbing on his aching shoulder. He could feel his old bones settle; a brief moment of bliss.

“What do you need?”

He leads you to his quarters, letting you stop by your room to grab a few things on the way. You reappear from your room, shaking your rucksack at him with a smile. “I think some of these things might help!” Lucifer appreciated the sentiment but doubted it highly.

You were used to nights spent in his office, and a few rare occasions that he invited you to his bed chambers. That is where he led you now. His hand is large and warm on your back as he shuffles you past his bed and towards his walk in closet. You look about, confused at his vast collection of historical clothes and why you were in his closet to begin with. He smiles weary at your question but stays silent coming to stop at his wardrobe. He takes you through to another hidden room. The magic of the vast space making your skin tingle. Goosebumps blossoming on your arms and neck.

It was an unused part of the catacombs. Eons ago Lucifer had stumbled upon it in his explorations of his new home. It had long since become a mini sanctuary from when the odd storm got to his bones, or a brother had gotten under his skin. Large orbs float lazily across the vaulted ceiling. Knocking into each other with a soft tinkle of chimes. Their warmth was reminiscent of spring time back in the celestial realm. Already his old bones felt better. His mind unclouding.

His stride falters for a moment, polished dress shoes squeaking on the opulent marble. What was he going to do? Show you himself? “Lucifer?” He feels you turn to him, sliding his arm away from your back to grip it in your small hands. “Let me help you? Please?” You make eye contact and smile reassuringly.

His resolve breaks. Damn, when had he gotten so soft? “Help me with my jacket.” His words were muddled but clear. It was getting hard to rotate his right shoulder again. The storm was raging right over the house now and his body protested. He had redressed hastily in Lilith’s room. You may have seen him at his most vulnerable, but he would never let the brothers. If Satan saw, he’d never hear the end of it. You nod and walk behind him. Standing on tiptoes you help him shrug off his coat and fold it neatly to side with your belongings. The corset beneath was a little trickier for you. It was an ingeniously designed brace that doubled as a designer corset. You never noticed, but up close the silk of his corset was brocade. The black of the fabric was decorated with a subtle shiny black thread. To the naked eye one couldn’t see it. But you could feel it as you brushed your fingers along his waist. In the bright light of the room the thread shimmered in all of its intricacies.  

“They are runes.” He answers your silent question refusing to look at you as you worked, hyper aware of your fingers tracing the stitching. “It helps with-” the pain, the humiliation, my pride? “Everything.” You nod accepting his words and unlace it gently. He shivers at the soft caress, it was like his body gravitated towards your touch. His actual skin buzzing with want.

“Does this happen a lot?” You come to his front and begin on the buttons of his dress shirt.

“No, rainstorms like this are rare. Once every couple of centuries it gets- bad.” Lucifer leans some of his massive weight on you while you lift his arm out of the sleeve. “You are good at this.” He eyes you skeptically. How many people had the luxury of your undivided attention?

You chuckle turning to fold his shirt neatly. “Why thanks, I guess? Like I said my granddad had bad bones. I used to help him on the bad days.” You eye his pants and flush. “I won’t help with those though.”

“Pity. Give me a moment would you?”  The demon chuckles turning to give himself an illusion of privacy. Already being out of the cold and drafty halls made him feel better already. This room had been meticulously built to help him. Artificial sun, warm, and not too humid. A light draft in the rafters getting the air circulating. Spending the night down here, and he’d be able to function for tomorrow's numerous meetings. Closing his eyes he releases his glamour.

Shifting felt like breaching water. A slight resistance then a cool wave of relief as he breaches the surface. Resting on his hunches his rumbles low, feeling his broken halo scrap the vaulted ceiling. His little human gasps looking up, and up, and up till they meet his hollow skull like face. He holds his breath, gut and hearts clenching in fear. What must you think of him? He watches with trepidation knowing this body was a lot to comprehend. “Wow. I thought you were tall before.” You grab at your satchel digging into the depths. “I’m afraid my little jar won’t go far now, but I’d still like to try.” He leans down looking at the jar posed at the tips of your fingers.

“Tiger balm?” His voice was abrasive and jagged. The multilayered lilt scrapped your eardrums like metal on bone. You flinch. A slight twinge of your shoulders barely noticeable, but it makes him recoil nonetheless. It's jarring, but not as scary as you originally thought.

“Sorry,sorry.” You placate the giant beast. “Took me by surprise.” You creak a reassuring grin. “This whole day has. But that’s ok.” You meet his gaze, his oblong head cocked to the side to stare at you. Up close you could see that his eye sockets weren’t hollow as they originally appeared. Deep within the bone and flaking flesh you could see a faint pure white glow, a little pinprick in the abyss flickering like a candle. Taking his stillness as permission you wonder back over to his large taloned feet. The constant healing and chaffing of his skin creates a foul vapor around him. The plumes of it blocking out the sunning orbs in waves. It smelled awful, like burning hair, skin and sulfur. But you push through taking small breaths through your mouth till your body adjusted. You glance at the tiny jar in your hand feeling stupid. “I’ll have to order some more but I hope this helps.” Lucifer looks at your outstretched hand at a complete loss of what you expected him to do. “Well,” You gestate at him to come closer. “Where does it hurt the most?” He laughs. A dry clicking in the back of his many vocal chords. His back hurt the most, it always did. A consistent little reminder of what his past actions cost him. Though, there were some things he wasn’t ready to divulge to you.Yet.

“That little jar will do nothing. But-” He continues trying to cover for his snappishness. He hated the frown drawing tight on your lips. “I will be signing a lot of paperwork tomorrow.” He brings a massive hand down and places it on the cool marble in front of you. The joints were bare to you, the flesh unable to encompass the swelling. His phalanges felt cold and hot all at once. Sudden spasms making the exposed nerves light up and twitch. “If you could?”

Clambering up his table sized finger with his approval you straddle it and rub some of your ointment on your palms to warm it. “Let me know if I hurt you.” With that you sink your hands through the mist and begin to work at his tender joints. The great beast rumbles in enjoyment. His keen nose picking up the spicy scent of the balm and your naturally pleasant musk. Within minutes the warming ointment began to soothe him. Leaving you to your ministrations Lucifer arches his neck up to the sky and begins to sun himself. The tension of the rain storm rolling off his body as the sun globs begin to orbit around his massive frame. Your little hums of happiness as you worked made this almost worth the humiliation of you seeing him at his lowest.