#how they manage to turn on the heat
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fortpeat · 2 years ago
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AHHHHHH WHERE ARE THE HD PICS OF MOST OF THESEEEEE I NEED ITTTT 🫠🫠
Fort : wears a necklace
Peat : has to pull on it 😌
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allylikethecat · 7 months ago
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atkh soon come??
Ahhh thank you for sending me this ask I was low key kind of thinking maybe no one would notice if the update was suuupppper late (and by that I mean hopefully tomorrow).
The original plan had been to finish up the chapter yesterday. BUT THEN I managed to give myself a mild case of heatstroke / sun poisoning at the barn yesterday (yay summer) and basically spent most of the day laying on my cold tile floor with my work laptop wishing I was anywhere else. I went to bed at 6:30pm that's how bad it was. And then so today I was playing catch up on all the work stuff I didn't really do yesterday because I was laying on the cold floor wishing I had remembered to drink Gatorade. Which means I have not even looked at the chapter since earlier in the week and it is in fact not finished 😞 BUT I'm actually finally starting to actually feel better (yay!) and the plan is to finish it tomorrow - hopefully before the Oilers / Panthers game. I'm so sorry for the delay, and thank you so much for checking in about the update. I'm so grateful that you're enjoying ATKH and hope you continue to do so. I hope your Friday is going better than mine and that you have a wonderful weekend!!
❤️Ally
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vvelegrin · 9 months ago
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shopping around for a small heat gun and hm. i would like something that will not set my house on fire.
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medicinemane · 1 year ago
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#one problem that's got me right now; aside from my stomach audibly churning wanting something more; is no one listens#people try to listen; and people think they listen; but they don't actually listen#there's always advice to be given; there's always their own perspective to be imposed on things#and everyone means well; everyone's real damn caring you know? that's part of why I don't just say this shit#but no one actually listens#...why is it that so often when I listen to people they're like 'Exactly!'; but when people listen to me it's like... you didn't hear me?#am I just pickier? or when I listen is it that I go broader strokes and avoid advice?#I'll often take a shot in the dark just based on looking inward and seeing how I'd be feeling in that situation#and... and this isn't a brag or something; but I can't remember the last time someone didn't feel validated by it#(which must be blindness on my part; I must have missed the times I made people feel more alone)#(I certainly don't always even manage to find something worthwhile to say; but when I do people seem validated)#but that's me turning inwards and just presenting how the situation makes me feel; and that making people feel seen#(like once again; not fucking bragging; but people will act like I saw right through them)#(when I was just tossing out something that I was only like 70% sure of and felt probably insulting or something)#but then I complain that people impose their own perspectives when talking to me... when me doing that seems to be what works#so why the fuck is that? is it that I more use myself as a thing to look at to relate to them while not really giving advice?#is my real complaint more like 'no one seems able to listen without trying to offer advice'?#also like... no one seems able to like... fucking trust me; or think for a second I might have lived this shit (possibly longer than them)#like... in a non emotional example:#once was talking about how I gotta heat my room with an electric radiator and the person starts telling me about how I gotta do it#like '3 ft away from any object' type advice and it's like...#I've been doing this for like 4 years; radiator sits about 6-8 inches from my bed and the cat spot; wood never gets more warm than sunlight#like I'm no fucking guru on it; but please don't treat me like and idiot you need to teach when you haven't actually used this stuff#why the hell can't anyone trust me? I got myself a fucking house; you know? why is it always always always advice#I'll talk about a situation; be doing more or less all anyone can do; all you have to say is 'yeah fuck that asshole'#no no; advice on what I need to tell someone about how to deal with that asshole that's not as nuanced as what I'm already doing#you share your biggest fears and just get fucking advice that won't work on how you can fix them#...kinda makes me want to blow my brains out as much as the hunger does right now#wish someone would mimic me on this; cause I seem to know what I'm doing#'gee sorry to hear that; that sort of thing is hard to deal with; you're doing a good job getting through it'
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sahkuna · 7 months ago
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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU
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synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.
content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.
word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—
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SPRING 2008
“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 
An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.
Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.
“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.
He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.
It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.
The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 
Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 
Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.
And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...
Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.
Who knows. 
All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.
“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”
“Two years, by force.” 
“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”
You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.
Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 
Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.
“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”
In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.
“Geto-senpai!” 
Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.
You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 
You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.
Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.
Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 
“I see that Satoru's already started…”
Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 
“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”
Which reminded you…
“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”
You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.
Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.�� 
“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.
“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”
…Huh?
Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 
His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 
“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.
You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  
Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 
You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 
Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”
Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.
Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.
If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.
“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.
There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.
“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”
SUMMER 2009 
To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 
Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 
Whenever he can.
He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.
You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.
Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.
“Sooo,” you start slowly.
Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 
“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 
You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.
“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”
There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.
“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”
You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…
“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 
Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.
But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.
You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 
It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.
“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”
Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”
Huh?
You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.
Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!
Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.
Christ.
Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.
The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 
Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.
“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.
Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”
“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”
“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”
“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.
“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”
An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”
And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.
WINTER 2011
Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.
It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.
Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 
Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.
But something was... different.
With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.
Harmless, right? 
So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.
There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.
“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”
Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.
He was being serious.
From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.
You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”
Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”
The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  
“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.
“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?
But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.
“Sato—” Fuck.
You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”
“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”
“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”
Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 
There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”
Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 
“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.
A FEW YEARS LATER
A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.
Satoru: Are you home?
What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 
…And again.
Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.
As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.
Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )
Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry
You: yes... why?
Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 
But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.
Satoru: Open your door.
What the fuck.
Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl
So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!
You: you're actually insane.
You: hold on!
Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.
���Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.
Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!
 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.
Yeesh.
Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 
It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—
“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.
“Happy birthday!” 
In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.
Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 
Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.
He’s cute.
Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.
On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.
Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.
“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”
You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”
Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.
Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.
With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.
Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”
He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.
Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.
“Wait, what,” you deadpan.
This can’t be what you think it is.
“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”
Har. Har. Very funny.
You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.
Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 
That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.
“Satoru!” you squeal.
Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.
Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 
Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 
“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”
Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 
There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.
“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.
For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.
It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 
But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.
There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.
The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.
Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.
“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.
“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”
And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.
Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 
Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.
God, you wanted him bad.
It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Cute. 
That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.
You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”
Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.
And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.
Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 
Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.
Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.
Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 
“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”
Message received.
Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 
The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.
“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.
“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 
He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 
But something’s up.
His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.
You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.
Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.
Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.
“Do you like that?” you ask.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.
“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.
You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.
There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.
And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 
Fuck.
You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.
He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 
Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.
You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.
“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”
“Oh.” 
Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?
Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.
Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”
You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 
There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.
Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.
You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.
“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.
“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.
“Shut up about it…”
But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 
A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.
“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”
Oh.
Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.
“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.
You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.
The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.
Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.
You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 
“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.
“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.
 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”
He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 
Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.
You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 
“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”
The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.
“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”
“S—Satoru!”
Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.
You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.
Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”
What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.
That’s what gets you.
You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.
Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.
Wow.
Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.
“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 
You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 
Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.
You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.
You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 
“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.
“Hm?”
You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”
You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—
“…Yeah, why?”
Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 
A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.
“What’d I do?!”
Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.
And maybe it wasn’t that bad.
Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.
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if you read to the end we're making out.
© do not copy/plagiarize/translate/use ai on my work.
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hellokittyish · 10 days ago
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★ thinking about bestfriend!satoru who feels like he’s won the lottery when you confide in him that you’ve never properly fingered yourself before because it doesn’t feel pleasurable, opting to simply rub at your poor little clit to get off instead.
“it doesn’t feel good because you haven’t been doing it right, silly,” he hums amusedly, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips as he lifts up one of your hands and makes a show of examining the length of your fingers. “hmm… yeah, this just won’t do.”
“huh?” you mumble curiously, cheeks burning with heat as you snatch your hand back and bury it into your lap. “what won’t do?”
“you need much longer fingers than those if you wanna do it properly, sweetheart,” satoru huffs, smile getting so wide dimples have formed on his cheeks as he holds up one of his own large hands and wiggles his fingers suggestively. “like mine, for example.”
so that’s how you somehow end up bent over the edge of your bestfriend’s couch with your ass perked up in the air and two of his freakishly long five inch fingers buried knuckles-deep inside your needy cunt. what an unexpected turn of events!
“think y’can take one more, baby?” he coos breathily against the shell of your ear, a third slender digit mischievously poking at your already overstuffed entrance. “c’monn, you wanna be a good little bestfriend for your toru, don’t you?
“y-yeah, i do— i can take one more, i promise!” you whine out desperately, much too far gone to care about how utterly pathetic you must look right now with your cheek squished against the arm of the chair and drool undoubtedly seeping from your gaped mouth.
“that’s my girl,” he purrs proudly, free hand giving your hair a fond pat while he slides another long finger into your fluttering hole, stretching you out more than you’ve ever been before. “but if you really wanna make me happy, you’ll cum all over my hand and make a big fat mess of this couch. can you manage that too, hmm?”
and you comply, of course; because how could your overstimulated little pussy not squirt when the tips of his lengthy fingers are effortlessly caressing your spongy g spot over and over again, your legs quivering around his palm as a soundless scream escapes from your bitten lips.
yeah… maybe satoru is more of a bestfriend with benefits at this point.
continuation here.
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s0dium · 5 months ago
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Fucking you raw??!!!
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Synopsis: It's his first time fucking and you are letting him go raw?????!!! Oh boy.
Warnings: Everything you might imagine.
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Is he dreaming? This has got to be a dream.
He blinks. Hard. To his disbelief, the site below him remains unchanged.
He gazes, awestruck by the vulnerability and arousal mirrored in your eyes. The soft, ambient light above casts a gentle glow on your skin, accentuating its smoothness and the delicate curve of your shoulders and highlighting the gentle slope of your breasts. Your nipples glisten, probably from his spit when you practically had to coax him off them.
"Are you ok baby?" Your voice comes out almost as a whisper, sultry and smooth. He watches your lips form the words, how your mouth glistens from the spit of his messy kisses, and how your tongue darts out to wet it.
He thickly gulps and nods. No, he would not lose composure, not now when he has been fantasizing this moment for months. With unbreaking focus, he presses the tip of his dick against your tight hole.
Then, he sucks in a breath through his teeth and pushes in. Immediately his mind goes white, paper white. Fuck, he has to kneel over from how wet, warm and goddamn tight you feel. The sensation is electric, like tiny sparks dancing along his nerves, igniting every inch they touch. It's a delicious contrast of heat and moisture, sending waves of tingling delight that radiate from dick finger to the rest of his body. He can't believe this is happening, he can't believe he is fucking the girl of his dreams raw. Your a god damn angel for letting him do this he is sure of it.
He has to remain still inside your heat for a few seconds and thank god you let him, or else he is sure he wouldve cum ropes into you there and then.
"Im gonna move now baby," He throws his head back and groans "J-jesus you feel so good"
He's too immersed in his own pleasure to realize that you are also being thrown in the abyss of utter euphoria. Letting him go raw was the absolute best fucking decision you have ever made. His dick filled you to the brim, stretching you perfectly. His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters to see how much you could take, how much he could take. It was dizzying, the grith of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, the euphoria of him fitting snuggly against walls with every thrust. The friction is incredible and it made pain quickly turn into pleasure.
"F-faster" You manage to croak out and he lets out a whine at your words. Jesus, you don't need to tell him twice.
He reels his hips back just enough so his fat tip barely leaves your warm cunny, the anticipation building as you brace yourself. In an instant, he slams them forward, hard and fast right into your cervix, driving into you with a force that leaves you gasping for air. The bed creaks beneath you both, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His movements are relentless, each one more intense than the last, the friction of his dick scraping against your walls making your toes curl.
"Love you, love you so much" he babbles. He's far too gone, a primal need for you has settled in him and his brain is on auto pilot. All he can think about is how good your pussy feels wrapped around him and how pretty you look right now. The sensation of your body moving in unison drives him wild, his grip on you tightening as he loses himself in the overwhelming ecstasy. His low groans and murmured praises only heighten the intensity, making each moment more electrifying than the last.
"So good s-so good" your words are strung out on your lips from how good he is fucking you. Every thrust ignites a fire within you, the sensations so intense you can hardly think. Your senses are overwhelmed by the feeling of him deep inside you, the rhythm of his movements perfectly attuned to your own mounting desire. You moan in ecstasy, the sound mingling with his groans, as each powerful thrust pushes you closer to the edge. The pleasure is all-consuming, making your body tremble with each delicious impact, every moment more euphoric than the last.
As he continues, you can sense his building intensity, his breaths turning into ragged gasps. His eyes flutter shut, and you feel the shudder of pleasure running through him with each thrust like electricity. His grip on you tightens, and his pace quickens, driven by a primal need. Every thrust brings him closer to the peak, his mind beginning to blur with overwhelming sensation. You can see the tension in his muscles, his abs tightening with the strain of holding back.
"Shit shit shit" he gasps, bending over so his lips are against your ear. "Im gonna cum baby, im gonna cum in you fuuuuuu-"
Then, with a final, powerful thrust, his mind goes blank, and a surge of pure ecstasy washes over him. His body tenses, abs hardening as he reaches the peak of his euphoria. He groans deeply, lost in the moment of ultimate pleasure, every muscle in his body taut with the intensity of his climax. The sensation is overwhelming, leaving him trembling as the waves of pleasure gradually subside.
You gasp at the feeling of hot ropes of cum filling you up. Theres so much of it it spills out of you and onto the bedsheets below. Your body trembles in response, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Sensing your rising climax, he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of soft, peppered kisses.
His voice, husky with desire, whispers in your ear, "Let it go, baby. Let it go."
His words, combined with the gentle touch of his lips, send shivers down your spine. He slows his thrusts, his dick still painfully hard, moving with a deliberate, tantalizing rhythm that drives you wild. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your entire body tensing as you approach the edge. His soothing words and tender kisses coax you further, until finally, you let go.
A wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your body arching in response. The world blurs as you reach the peak of your euphoria, every nerve ending alive with sensation. His slow, deliberate thrusts and murmured encouragement keep you riding the wave of ecstasy, your mind lost in the overwhelming bliss. You cry out, the release so powerful it leaves you trembling, completely consumed by the moment.
Your left gasping for air and just when your about to roll over and take a breath, he grabs the underside of your legs and presses them against your chest.
"So sorry baby, I need more. Please let me have more."
GOJO, GETO, Toji, YUUJI, YUUTA, KENMA, OIKAWA, BOKUTO, EREN, SHIGARAKI, SANEMI
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screampied · 6 months ago
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✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, fıngering, praise, talking you through it, squırting, dirty talk, mdni.
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“don’t be shy, sweetheart. get it wet, atta girl,”
nanami would murmur right up against your ear, warm breath fanning against the shell of your earlobe. it tickles, and as you’re laid flat back against him with a few fawn strands of his chest hair brushing up near you, you whine. your legs were unapologetically spread wide open with a bundle of your toes curling up exquisitely. the back of your head rubs and rubs against his bare chest, and he’s got the softest smile. “ah ah,” he whispers, watching as your own crumped up finger buries itself into your cunt and lazily moves around. “remember the method i taught you. circle it around, yeah,” and your breathing hitches the moment the tip of your digit encircle a slippery swab of your sheeny slick. “here, let me take it from here for a bit.”
with your laced panties pulled back near the crevices of your thigh, you collapse flat against his chest. his warmth, a single moan escapes from your lips at how close he was to you. his scent, nanami’s cologne engulfs in your nostrils and it’s such a rich, citrusy aroma. “o- okay.” was all you could manage to whimper out, feeling the cold band of his g-shock ghost against your thigh.
“it’s gonna get messy, my love,” he warns you, a bit of humor in his tone — you throb, two fingers of his smear against your drooling heat and your mouth slowly dangles open. “ooh, my oh my. she’s quite the talker today huh,” he hums at the sounds of your weeping cunt - sloshing and creating various laments of squelches from his consistent rubbing before you whine. “let’s hear what she’s got to say, hm?”
“f- fuuuck.” you’d mewl out, feeling him slowly ease a finger inside of your slit. by this point, he’d taken out your finger and replaced it with his own. nanami’s pointed chin rests against your shoulder as he watches intently.
even your colorful swears sounded angelic. behind you, you could feel his dick twitch in his boxers at just the sound of your voice. already, you were soaked heavily. nanami felt like being a bit of a tease tonight though.
with one hand focusing its attention between your thighs - another creates a tantalizingly slow, trail up and down your body. his fingertips dance against your skin as he glances at you jerking and shuddering. all from his touch, he wanted to make sure to savor your body.
in a way, you were like art to him, a breathtaking canvas that was forevermore priceless.
“gimme your hand, my love,” he requests, lukewarm plush lips pressing a chaste kiss near the inside of your neck. a breeze of his minty fresh breath sets against your sinuses before you comply. as he takes ahold of your wrist, nanami makes you start a trail of your own. gradually, he’s dragging your arm further down your body, making sure your fingers get a feel of every single part of you. “nice ‘n slow, good. doin’ so good.”
a breathy pant starts to rip out of you, hauling out of your lungs abruptly and you’re panting like a dog - he’s so gentle, his words only added more fuel to the fire before you feel the brief pangs of heat between your legs intensify.
nanami’s thick finger turns into two and you let off a melodic whimper as he’s stretching your pussy open. “open for me baby, focus on those breaths,” and as you’re just sluggishly pressed up against his chest, he gives your you another kiss. this time, it’s near the top of your head. “my good girl.” he purrs, voice raspy and filthy—pouring with nothing but admirable love and affection.
it was as if a feverish, fire was bristling against your skin. it was subtle, real subtle. you sigh deeply at his two fingers leisurely prod their way inside of your accepting, gummy walls. “k- ken,” you whine out, hearing the lewd sloshing sounds of your own arousal. it’s wet, you’re wet. nanami’s still guiding you to touch yourself in a way that makes your perked nipples throb. a gentle hand firmly but sweetly grabs your wrist, having you feel right near your heaving chest. your breaths were shallow, short brief inhales coming out of you before your eyes start to roll and flicker back. “your fingers, ‘s long, ken.”
“oh, are they now?” he utters, a tender grip compressing against his pink glossed lips. “i’d hope so, they’re just the right size for my wife, are they not?”
by the second, you could feel yourself coming close. you could feel yourself reaching your inevitable, destined peak. “c’mon, big girl words. talk to me,” he shushes your sweet, babbling moans. you were speaking a good sentence of gibberish—inaudible whimpers mewling out your throat at each millisecond that passes. you’re squirming a bit in pleasure, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, creating a bite. nanami then slides his slender fingers out so you could do the rest. you whine, trying to copy his method. your digits slickly coat and drip against the outer part of your cunt before sliding your fingers in. huffing, you feel a pulsating pulse near your aching labia. “how’s it make you feel, sweetheart. feel good?”
“feels good, ‘ken,” you puff out a single exhale in dry, irregular breaths. you felt your own slick stick against your pried open legs like glue. it was a mess indeed, and before you knew it, you were right there. “kento, finish for me, please p-pleaseee.”
“but my love,” he hums a dulcet tune against your ear, your thigh tapping and tapping in anticipation. it’s a salty taste pouring into your mouth but as the seconds progress, it’s turns sweet,
bittersweet.
the filthy, moist squelches became so loud that it starts to echo through the thin walls of your cozy, homey residence. “you’re supposed to be doin’ this, not me. ‘m just showing you how.”
letting off a near pornographic moan—you were cut off the minute your fingers thrash against your g-spot. your noises made him hard, so whiny and pleasing to the human ear. once you feel the twitching muscle, it’s soft and hollow with a squishy surface, scratching such an orgasmic itch in your brain. you could barely even form words with how dumb you were right now. “right there ‘ken. i feel something.”
“keep feeling there, baby. ‘s okay,” he holds you from behind, feeling your body continue to slump back against his chest. your legs vigorously shake like an earthquake - its intensity was jittering you to your wits end. with two eager fingers swirling around the insides of your needy cunt, your jaw drops. a pocket seed of ecstasy welts and surges all through you. as he grabs your wrist again, nanami’s helping you finger yourself with your entire wrist — helping you do a bowling ball grip with two fingers. two stuffed inside, the others just being idle. it felt so good, you weren’t gonna last a second longer by this point. “you’re so close, sweetheart. use those pretty fingers, mhm. so close, make a mess on me, make a mess on your husband so i can clear you right up.”
a pitched ringing sound goes in your ears and right back out. as you’re zealously twitching from the touch, the stimulation, you let off yet another long, pitched moan. it’s a lengthy moan, nowhere near short.
you elongate a single syllable and lasts it for a good four seconds until you realize you’re cumming. one wave comes, then two, then three until everything’s all crashing down on you.
“k- kento,” you whimper, feeling your digits tangle up inside and get soaked from top to bottom with your honeyed slick. but it doesn’t stop there, in fact, once you look down, not only were you coming undone but you were also gushing out. it sprays, a translucent splashing tint dampens against the satin ruby sheets and nanami simpers. “oh my g- goddd.”
he feels your soddened rapture pouring all out, electricity like currents traversing all throughout your body and you grow limp. “aw,” he speaks first, seeing how your climax took everything out of you. nanami brings a hand down between your legs, a thumb swiping against your swollen cunt before he smears your juices right on your entrance. “my messy girl, did you just squirt on me?”
you don’t reply—your breathy, shaky moans being your answer and a hand of yours squeezes his wrist. it’s so many nerves, a bundle of them being touched and convulsed strike right within you before he kisses the top of your head. “seems like my wifey’s a little squirter after all,” he purrs once more, his voice as smooth as silk. as nanami slowly makes you pull out your filth covered fingers, a cobwebby string of lustrous gloss runs off from the tips of your fingers. “look at this,” he grabs your wrist, holding it up in front of you before he does what you’d last expect.
nanami gingerly wraps a hand around your wrist, inching it toward his face before he pops two of your slippery slick digits into his mouth. he groans at your cherry sweet taste - making sure to savor and relish the toothsome flavor before his tongue curls around your fingers.
“mhm,” and as he’s sucking on your digits to clean them just like he said, you could feel yourself throbbing again. once nanami finally removes his mouth from your two wet fingers, he lowly chuckles against your ear. “such a good girl,” he praises you one last time before getting his own fingers wet, wiping them both near your sopping clit. “let’s do that again. now spread these gorgeous legs wide again for me, my love. gotta get my wife just a little bit wetter.”
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sttoru · 7 months ago
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older bf satoru catches you masturbating <3
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 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). māsturbation. turns into cunnilingus. squirting. reader gets called ‘baby, angel, little girl’
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you miss satoru so much. he had left you behind in his apartment after getting a call from a colleague, who needed help defeating a curse nearby. it’s been a few hours since then and you’re bored.
bored and horny.
you’re still riled up from the heated make out session you had with satoru before he departed. the one that got interrupted by that damned phone call. you need him back with you—for his slender fingers to touch you and his mouth to kiss you all over.
all you have of him is his shirt. you’re wearing it whilst laying back in his bed, the fabric seemingly oversized on your body. his scent is making you lightheaded. dizzy, to the point your hand moves down on its own.
“mhhg,” you cover your mouth with your free hand, not wanting to risk anything, even if you’re the only one in this apartment. you waste no time dipping your fingers underneath your panties, circling your clit with your thumb while your index and middle finger rub your moist folds.
all you can do is imagine that it’s satoru pleasuring you. he always does it so well—never once leaving you unsatisfied. you cannot recall the amount of times he’s made you squirt from just rubbing your cunt. you’re so touch deprived and he knows how to take advantage of that.
remembering that one moment where your boyfriend had you seated on his lap on the couch makes you increase the pace of your fingers. how he was so focused on listening to the news whilst gently rubbing your tingly cunt over the material of your panties, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
you recall how your panties were quite literally soaking after three whole orgasms. not once did his fingers directly touch your pussy, and yet he managed to elicit such strong reactions from you.
a frustrated whine in the shape of his name leaves your mouth. you want satoru back, so so badly. you want him to whisper sweet nothings inside of your ears as he makes love to you. that smooth and soothing voice of his makes you weak.
“fuck, angel,” satoru’s voice interrupts your little session. your eyes widen and you immediately pull your fingers out of your aching hole. you stammer and stutter, stumbling over your words as you look at the white-haired man standing at the doorframe of his room.
how do you even explain yourself?
your gaze flickers downwards which grants you the delicious sight of his bulge. his hand is right on top of it, indicating that he’s been touching himself before he decided to make his presence known.
satoru is panting, the sweat already starting to form on his forehead. he walks up to the bed and pries your hands away from your cunt. his cock stirs in his boxer briefs at the sight of you in his shirt. you’re so adorable to the older man. so needy. . .
without a word and like a starved man, satoru spreads your legs and yanks your panties down. your cunt is warm and soppy, the slick trail staining your underwear telling him enough. he doesn’t hesitate before diving his head between your plush thighs.
you feel a rush of warmth go through your body the instant his tongue comes into contact with your pussy. satoru’s nose repeatedly bumps against your clit as he tries to press his entire mouth onto your folds. his tongue lolls out, the tip navigating up and down your slit before pushing through, finding that little hole he can’t wait to devour.
“thank you for preparing my meal f’me while i was away,” satoru hums against your cunt before pulling back to allow his fingers to explore you. he glances up at you with a proud smirk before placing his mouth back where it belongs. he can’t let all the prep you did go to waste after all, “she’s fuckin’ delicious, baby.”
your hands pull at his hair in response, gaining a needy whine from your lover. he nearly chokes on both his spit and your juices. his hands hold onto the back of your knees and he uses that firm grip to push your legs further apart.
you’re nearly seeing stars. you didn’t even have time to register satoru’s sudden appearance. hell, you couldn’t even greet him or welcome him back home. that man wasted zero time in getting between your legs, eating you out like there’s no tomorrow.
you stumble over your own words. no matter how hard you try, not a sentence is able to form. all that leaves your mouth are moans of pure pleasure. your thighs shake and your hips buck against your lover’s mouth. you’re more than desperate for a release.
“c’mon, say my name again,” satoru sighs as he circles his tongue around your wet hole. he prods at it, tongue fucking you to acquire as much of your fluids as possible. your sweet wetness is making him throb in his pants, “mhmmm— my naughty little girl couldn’t wait.”
the older man feels great satisfaction at the thought of you being unable to withstand your pleasures. the sinful sight of you trying to fuck yourself with your little fingers on his bed, with his shirt on, is engraved in his mind forever. the second you moan out his name again, he goes all out.
satoru’s tongue doesn’t stop. even when you squeal and beg him to slow down because you feel like you’re going to cum early. that’s exactly what he wants; having you squirt all over his mouth and face. he needs to be covered with your slick.
you tug at his hair again - thinking that’d make satoru pull away - though the effect is the exact opposite. “nhh, do ‘t again,” he whines and moans against your folds, lapping up all that your pussy gives. the loud slurping noises reverberate throughout the room.
satoru’s eyes are closed, his furrowed brows adding to the concentrated yet content look on his blushing face. his lips, which are usually glossy, glisten even more with the liquid your cunt secretes. his eyes open every now and then to take a peek at you—to see if you’re still enjoying what he does.
“bet your small fingers weren’t enough, hm? y’ need mine?” satoru coos once he finally pulls his head back to breathe. he licks his lips as he stares at you with glazed and half-lidded eyes, totally pussydrunk. you don’t even have to respond to his questions. the answers are obvious by the way you’re trembling and desperately babbling incoherent pleas.
your boyfriend nods in understanding. he pouts at you while his fingers rub up and down your spread pussy lips. the pad of his thumb manoeuvres from your gaping hole to the little bundle of nerves at the top. satoru sticks two fingers in your cunt without warning. your high pitched whimper makes him coo at you, “yeah, i know, baby. let it out.”
the white-haired sorcerer pumps his long fingers in and out of you, a rhythm so addicting that it’s impossible not to give in. your back arches off the mattress. you’re trying your best not to stain satoru’s shirt with your juices, though you have a feeling he’d secretly like that anyway.
“am so close, ‘toruuu—fnngh,” you gasp and instantly feel satoru’s tongue replace his fingers. he wants to taste and feel your tight cunt spasm all around his tongue and mouth while you reach that point of no return. he’s going to try his best not to cum untouched in his pants this time.
satoru holds your hips with his big hands, keeping you down so he could properly eat you out and make you release all that tension. your pussy tingles and throbs, and you truly feel like you’re going to ascend.
it feels way too good. inhumanly good.
“cum on my tongu—“ satoru can’t even finish his sentence. a loud moan slips from between your lips, followed by a grunt from your boyfriend. his eyes roll back as your cunt releases more of its lewd fluids—spraying the liquid all over his mouth and chin.
you’re too busy trying to catch your breath to notice the mess you’ve created on satoru’s face and his sheets; a complete and total mess. the older man doesn’t mind neither. in fact, he enjoys it.
“shitttt, that was fuckin’ hot,” satoru flashes you a wide grin. he’s still somewhat drunk on you, which is visible by the way he’s licking up your mess from both his chin and your body. he cleans your cunt with his tongue—even if it’s overstimulating you.
he’s a greedy man when it comes to you. he wants more, more and more. whatever you’re offering, he will get.
satoru’s hands rub your sides to comfort you. he places soft kisses over your clit and pussy, as if he’s thanking you for the meal he just had the pleasure of devouring. he looks up at you with a cheeky smirk before laying his head against your inner thigh, his tongue peeking out between his glossy lips;
“think you can give me one more?”
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lexcys · 1 month ago
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★ observing rafe cameron x reader
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summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were
a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered
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you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices
stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived
you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye
rafe cameron
somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends
while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you
she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground
''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun
''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again
glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off
''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie
all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know
you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity
taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand
even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing
rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring
you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy
he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?
it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him
cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier
you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode
hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin
while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging
fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe
it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty
you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile
noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped
at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance
given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact
heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right
after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder
you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly
examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you
this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control
strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering
walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding
the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored
before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile
relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom
he must’ve left already, right?
''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door
your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom
''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit
you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around
immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face
''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back
''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''
you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''
''ditto'',
apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily
''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''
letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it
if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'
you nod quickly, meeting his gaze
looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge
taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head
he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer
''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit
you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book
like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe
for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you
but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,
''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''
oh
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gojorgeous · 1 year ago
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"MINE, MINE, MINE."
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pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k
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“No.” 
No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 
“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.
“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.
Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 
Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.
“I-I��m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 
Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.
The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 
Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 
“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 
Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?
“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 
“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.
Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 
“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 
“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”
You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.
The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?
“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.
You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 
Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 
“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 
Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 
Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”
He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”
Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 
He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 
“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 
Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 
You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 
Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 
For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 
You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.
You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 
Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 
“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 
Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 
“Yes you can. I know you can.” 
You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 
There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 
You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 
Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 
You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 
His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.
“End of discussion.” 
He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.
“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 
“I got you, baby.”
Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.
Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.
~
You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 
You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 
“Feel anything?” he asks. 
You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 
“Sleep, baby.” 
For once, you follow orders without a fight.
Hot. Too hot. 
When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 
You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.
“Deep breaths, baby.” 
Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 
“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 
“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 
You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.
His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 
Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 
He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 
“No, baby.” 
You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 
“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 
“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 
With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 
“That’s it. Good girl.” 
Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 
“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”
Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 
“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.
“Sugu,” you plead. 
The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 
You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 
“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.
He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 
“S-Sugu…” you whine.
The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 
His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.
But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.
“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 
“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 
Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 
“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 
You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 
He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 
“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 
Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 
“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”
The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…
“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.
His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 
“Sugu–” 
And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 
Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?
Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 
“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 
~
You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 
You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.
“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 
You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.
You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 
“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 
“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 
Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 
“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 
You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.
When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 
“P-please, please, please–”
He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.
“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 
You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.
When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”
When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.
The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 
It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 
When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.
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taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina
link: alpha!gojo fic
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amaranthinespirit · 2 months ago
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new neighbor!simon riley whom you bring cookies to as a way to welcome him to the neighborhood, so naturally he has to pay you back, right?
you'd seen the moving trucks pull up at the little house next door, peering through the frilly curtains that frame your window, pulling back the blinds to peek through the cracks at who this new neighbor is.
you couldn't get much of a glimpse, though you saw the tall, looming stature dressed in a dark void for clothes, and a mask over his head that made your tummy writhe with unease.
nonetheless, you turned to your kitchen and decided you'd make a housewarming gift. it was the nice thing to do after all!
so with a warmed plate of fresh cookies in your palms, you tediously stepped down the stones from your little abode to the sidewalk between yours and his new house. your shoes padded along the concrete before approaching his door.
a tender fist knocked knuckles against the firm door, an innocent glint in your eyes as you patiently waited for the man to open the door.
simon wasn't expecting anyone, hell, he hadn't even told anyone he had moved. his ears perked at the shallow knock, his socked feet padding against the wooden floors before peeking in the little peephole.
last thing he was expecting was a sweet little thing such as yourself to be waiting for a brute like him to answer the door, but he didn't want to keep you waiting much longer now.
with a creak, the door opened and revealed his daunting figure that towered over you. you felt his shadow cover you as you look up to him, mumbling a few measly words welcoming him to the neighborhood.
his face, more like his eyes, were stoic, but you noticed a slight crinkle in his skin, the mask shifting ever so slightly as a gruff voice responded to your words, "thanks, luv', why don'ya c'mon in?" he offered.
because the least he could do is invite you in for a cuppa, sit down and chat while you shared the plate of cookies over the island in the kitchen, right?
it felt sinful, leading a little doll like doe into his house, the door slowly creaking shut with a slight push. nonetheless, a large hand splayed across your lower back to guide you to the empty kitchen, boxes scattered along the floors.
your hands gripped the edge of the island tightly, your knuckles turning white as you bite back soft mewls. simon was kneeled, a hand pressing down on your back to keep your stomach against the counter, face buried in your sopping cunt. its compensation, lovie!
he groaned, slick drooling down his chin, nose buried in your pussy. the warm of his breath caused goosebumps to rise along your skin, his other hand full of fatty flesh from your plush rear, pulling the muscle aside to allow himself access to your sweet, drooling pussy.
you were so sweet, just like heaven, how could he refuse! besides, you were dripping for him anyways.
his lips latched to your folds, slurping up your slick with lewd squelches, teeth grazing your clit with soft nips as his tongue pushed past your walls.
your spongy walls contorted around the pink muscle as he coated your pussy in saliva, mumbling almost incoherently, "fuck, s'sweet, luvie. tastier than the damn sweets."
your knees trembled, buckling because of the pleasure as your walls pulsed around his tongue. a convulsing pattern as the heat in your tummy built with rising anticipation of ecstasy. your hips squirmed under him, but his strong hands manhandled you to how he wanted.
come on, lovie, you'll learn he needs quite a few sweets after having been deprived of them so long.
he'll take care of you, wipe you clean with a damp washcloth and throw a warm, definitely too big shirt fresh from the dryer over your body and convince you to stay the night.
give him your key to get your stuff, lovie! but don't question how he managed to get a copy so quick.
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tonycries · 8 months ago
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Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.
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Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 
Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.
Word count. 4.6k
A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm
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“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.
Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”
The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  
You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 
“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”
Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”
Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.
Well, there was still time. Right? 
Nonsense, maybe.
Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.
“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”
Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”
“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 
“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”
Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”
“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 
“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”
You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?
“Well, doll?”
Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”
Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”
Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”
And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.
The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 
You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 
And then he’s pulling away. 
It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 
Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”
Well. Two can play that game.
“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.
Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”
Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 
Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 
A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 
And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 
“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 
“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”
“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?
“Oh yeah?”
And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 
“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”
Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 
Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”
“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”
And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 
“Yeah, atta girl.”
Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.
“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”
Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 
But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 
With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.
“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 
“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”
“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”
He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 
Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-
“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”
His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 
It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-
“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.
Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 
“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 
“I- ngh- m’gonna-”
“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”
“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 
And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-
“Then cum f’me, doll.”
And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 
“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 
Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.
The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.
“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.
“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”
Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.
“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?
He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?
And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 
“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 
You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”
“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”
“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”
And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 
“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 
“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”
You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 
Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 
“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”
Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”
And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 
“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”
Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.
“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 
And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 
Nahhh
Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”
And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 
Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 
“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.
“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”
And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-
“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.
Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”
If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.
But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.
“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”
“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 
And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-
“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-
“Found it.”
And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-
“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”
“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 
“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 
“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 
Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”
You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 
And that answers his question. 
Messy and desperate. 
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 
Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white
Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 
Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 
“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.
“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 
--- 
“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”
The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 
A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”
“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”
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A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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suguann · 11 months ago
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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Masterlist
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yandere-daydreams · 11 months ago
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tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3
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8lyme · 4 months ago
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Heat Rises
Logan Howlett x f!Reader
SUMMARY: The mansion is boiling hot
WARNINGS: excessive use of italicisation, borderline dirty thoughts, makeout scene bc that's the best i can do, maybe ooc bc I fear I imagine Logan a little funnier than he actually is.
a/n: the ac in my room broke and inspiration struck after I doomscrolled through wolverine edits on tiktok ... chat i love men
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It was hot. Boiling. Stifling.
You woke up at 2 a.m. drenched in sweat, sucking in a deep breath of hot, stale air. Grogginess fading, you stumble from your bed while pulling of your shirt and pajama pants. You open the door to the bathroom and turn the cold water on in the sink.
The heat was dripping down your back despite your lack of clothing. Overheating and still half-asleep, you stuck your head into the stream of cold water, splashing over your neck and across your shoulders.
You straighten to tie your hair up before turning the water off and running your still cold hands down your arms. The patter of thudding sounded outside your door, and you move to dress in a thin tank top and shorts.
You let your eyes adjust to the light as you began walking down the hallway of the mansion. A few children slipped out of their rooms in similar sweaty conditions to follow you down the staircase and onto the main floor.
Gathered by the professor's office were Scott, Storm, and Jean. The stray young mutants who trailed you settling around them.
"Goodmorning," You call out the the group.
"Do you know who turned this place into a boiler?" Jean asks. You both swipe sweat off your foreheads in sync while you shrug, shaking your head.
"Jesus, my glasses are gonna slide off my face," Scott complains, knocking his head against the wall in exasperation. He was shirtless, (rightfully so) wearing what you guessed were swim trunks.
"Charles is working on it," Jean put a hand on his shoulder, then quickly removing it to wipe his sweat off her hand and down the wall.
You turn to Storm, who was pulling the fabric of her tank top to fan herself off.
"Do we know where Bobby is?" You ask in search of the Iceman. You turned to scan the room, addressing the three students who followed you.
"Pretty sure him and Rogue took off before lights out," a young girl from the floor calls out. Her mutation rubberized her molecules, and her legs were in misshapen puddles - akin to flat stanley - due to the heat.
"Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here," a familiar voice groans loudly from behind you. "Nice shorts." Logan said to you before reaching your side.
"Alright fashion police," you respond in mock annoyance, offering a small smile at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."
He shot you a wink before turning away. When you caught full sight of him, your face froze and (if possible) more sweat rolled down your spine.
It was sickening how attractive he managed to look in what felt like the inside of an air fryer. Having clearly just woken up, his hair was perfectly tousled into a messier version of his normal tufts. His hair hardly looked damp despite the oiled-up glow he had on his face ...
And torso.
Fuck he was shirtless.
Although you've known Logan for the better part of a year, you unfortunately failed to experience him half-dressed. You'd been in close proximity frequently - sparring and other various training taking a large percent of that. You were friendly with each other, his acknowledgement of you with a nod whenever you walked in a room affirming he didn't hate you. You normally ate breakfast together, often offering the other the last portion of cereal or setting aside an extra cup of coffee for whoever entered the kitchen second. Within the last few months, however, after a particularly unfortunate mission gone wrong in almost every way, your friendship became more affectionate in those 'off the clock' moments.
Quick but firm hugs, slinging his arm over your shoulders, nudging each other with elbows or hips at inside jokes. He'd also been placing a hand on your back or shoulder every time he was in proximity to do so when moving behind you; in the kitchen, during briefings, even while you were grading papers in the library. He would touch your shoulder to let you know he was moving past you or going to sit next to you.
All that is to say you were aware - in theory - he was well built. He was taller and broader than you, so you made an educated guess. Theory proven, but well beyond expectations.
A month ago, you and Scott had stopped at a Texas Roadhouse an hour outside of the city after having spent two weeks clearing out a mutant experimentation lab in eastern Quebec. The plump and shine of the appetizer rolls (that you and Scott had both equally asked for seconds of) had absolutely nothing on Logan.
He damn near glistened. The dim light of the mansion sconces bronzed his skin, cutting him into an even more defined picture for you to look at. His chest expanded with each breath, shoulders and pecs slightly flexing in response. His hands lazed on his hips, if even possible causing the room's shadows to shade in the dips of his biceps and forearms. The veins of his arms just barely covered by the moisture-slicked hair covering his skin. If you had a fork and knife, you would throw them behind you to happily eat a piece of him with your hands.
You had to force yourself to swallow to shock your brain into looking anywhere else. You made an 'eaugh' sound and swiped your hands across your face. You meant it defensively, but you really were dripping into your eyes.
"I feel like I'm being waterboarded," you say disgustedly while wiping your palms on the back of your shorts. Feeling a texture that wasn't fabric, you turned your head. Glancing down, you understood Logan's earlier comment.
These shorts must have been from your freshman year of high school that somehow never got tossed or donated. They were a pair of (very) short, low-cut and dull pink velour Juicy Couture shorts with the word 'Juicy' spelled out in rhinestones on the ass. You actually felt like hurling as your body got even hotter.
You slowly turned your face away from the glittery stones on your booty to unfortunately glance in Scott's direction. His hands covering his mouth to block how obviously he was holding in a laugh.
"Scott, don't even look at me right now," you groan in exasperation, crossing your arms over yourself in attempted modesty. Scott's eyes glitter, and you snap "Keep your mouth shut" at him to no avail.
"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass?" He snickers. "In rhinestones?"
He's cracking up now with his hands in fists over his mouth. Jean bites a smile away and looks down, shaking to stifle a giggle. You look across the room to the kids who are choking down laughter themselves.
"Oh my fucking God-uh!" you again groan out, covering your eyes. "I really liked Jersey Shore when I was in High School, guys, leave me alone!"
Storm bursts into a laugh that inspires the others to join in. You're cracking up too, mortification disappearing. You glance at Logan through your fingers, who surprisingly seems to be choking back a laugh himself.
"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan clears his throat. "Save her from embarrassment?"
"Not how it works," She says. "I can't pull cold air or moisture out of this heat to create any snow." She looks at you and winks. "Sorry J-Wow, the shorts are staying on."
Scott about keels over with a snort before Jean thwaps him in the shoulder.
"If we bring you enough bags of ice, could you use that to cool the building down then?" Jean asks.
"In theory," Storm says. "I can stay here with the students to wait for the professor if you all don't mind searching for some. I'll need to conserve energy if I have to create a blizzard out of thin air."
"Copy. Divide and conquer," you say glancing at Logan again. The four of you turn to wander the mansion, but you stop to turn back to Storm.
"Also," you call back to her. "I'm so obviously Snooki."
Scott barks a laugh from the other corridor as you trot after Logan. He turns to meet you with a confused look on his face.
"What the fuck is a Snooki?"
---
Logan daydreamed about upper-cutting Scott with his claws unsheathed. He fantasized about throwing him down the stairs and curb-stomping him after. He imagined speeding over him on his own motorcycle and drilling him into the asphalt.
Right now, as your face flushed with embarrassment over your bedazzled booty shorts, he wished he had enacted any of those in reality so he had never, ever, heard Scott say a word about your ass.
Logan was used to waking up in a sweat, heart racing as he yelled out in anger (or fear, he couldn't tell which) from the nightmare that slipped from him the longer his eyes were open.
This time, he awoke uncomfortably hot and sprawled out diagonally above his sheets. He pushed himself up onto his knees and rubbed his eyes. He took a beat to wake himself up and stared at the clock on his nightstand blinking at 2:00 am.
He found it impossibly hotter in the hallway, swiping his palms on his pants every few steps. He regretted not scouring his room for shorts or even a pair of briefs. He moved down the stairs and rounded, following the sound of conversation. He dragged his sweaty palms across his pants again, groaning out; "Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here".
And then he almost tripped over his own feet.
You stood facing away from him, hands clasped on top of your head, in the tiniest clothing humanly possible. You wore a thin, strappy little yellow tank top that ghosted just under your ribs. In the dimmed lighting, your skin glistened, droplets of sweat gliding down your neck, your spine - fucking hell, was your sweat turning him on? - down your lower back, and -
Logan just about stopped in his tracks.
Impossibly tiny pink shorts clung to your ass, riding low on your hips. In glittering rhinestone, the word Juicy was bedazzled over the fabric. He felt like a dumb moth to a flame, trying to look like he wasn't seconds away from using his hands for some workplace misconduct.
"Nice shorts," he managed, trying to shake his head clear.
"Alright fashion police," you smirked up at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."
He winked at you, turning away to avoid staring at the beads sliding down your collar bone. Trying even harder to not imagine where the droplets would travel next.
Too focused on thinking about anything else in the world other than you, he blinked back into reality after Scott's voice grated his ears.
"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass? In rhinestones?"
Whatever you or anyone else responds with falls on his deaf ears. The only thing he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood. His face tightened and he clenched his jaw.
He coughed to clear his head and interject into whatever conversation he's too furious to tune in to.
"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan paused, coughing again to catch himself from saying anything related to freezing Scott solid so he can shatter him to pieces. He settled on "Save her from embarrassment?"
Once again, Logan half-listened and half-internally plotted extreme violence, perking back in at the sound of your voice. He turned to you as you catch up with him.
"What the fuck is a Snooki?"
---
You declined to continue to explain trash TV to Logan. You settled on "It's entertaining to watch people be out of touch with reality", to which he quipped back a "That's stupid", effectively shutting you up.
The both of you wandered to the kitchen, you fanning yourself as Logan tried not to burst a blood vessel while holding to his willpower to not watch you tilt your head back and exhale while uttering whines of complaint. He decided the amount that his was sweating coupled with the lack of sleep made him delusional. That's why his brain kept trailing back to the same thought: you.
You pulled open the bottom drawer of the fridge, exposing the freezer. The rush of cool air fanned at your skin, and you signed in relief.
"Logan," you call, eyes closed. You waved him over and he leaned next to you.
"Oh my god," he quietly uttered out, eyes closing in relief. "Oh my god, this is better than sex."
You snorted and slapped your hand to your mouth.
"Logan, shut the fuck up" you giggle. He snickers back with you, shoulders shaking.
"Aw man," you groan, staring into the freezer drawer. Inside, there was an empty popsicle box, an half-eaten pint of strawberry ice cream, and an unwrapped ice-cream sandwich with freezer burn. You and Logan met each other's eyes with matching disappointed expressions.
You shut the freezer drawer, straightening up.
"I think there's a freezer in the basement lab," Logan says, sweat instantly beginning to drip down his neck.
"Aw man," you respond, lifting your arms slightly as sweat slides down you as well.
"Come on, bub," He moves around behind you. You feel the familiar ghost of his fingers against your back, but you recoil away at the thought of more heat against your body.
Logan yanked his hand away like he had been burned, gaze raking from you to his hand. You keep walking, not realizing how far behind you he's trailing.
---
He tries to shake it off, he really does. He feels stupid for letting something so small seep into his head and twist his thoughts around.
It's just because it's hot, he thinks to himself. Rationally, yes, he knows that is the answer. And yet he stupidly can't help but overthink every interaction he's had with you.
He masks it with a stony expression. The walk to the elevator is sticky and humid. When you both step in, he strays as far away from you as he can.
You've felt the shift in energy from him. He's pressed against the curved wall, arms crossed over his chest. It's palpable, but you aren't the type to pry when Logan is brooding.
He slips out of the opening doors first, relinquishing in the slightly cooler air of the lab. You trail after.
The air is awkward now. You fumble in your brain for the right words to say to him. 'Are you okay?' doesn't seem to cut it.
You've come to understand Logan. He has a complicated relationship with feelings and is awful at communication. If you don't notice the energy shift and bring it up, it isn't getting spoken about.
You follow him to a white metal crate pressed near a cabinet of saline. It's clasped shut and luckily on wheels. The precipitation on the outside confirming this is what you were looking for.
You place your hands on the corners of the crate to slide it from the wall, but Logan damn near rips it out of your hands. He shoves it across the lab towards the elevator.
You stare at him in shock and confusion. Your thoughts whir as you replay every moment from the entire day, convinced that he's pissed at you. He seems pissed. He's acting pissed.
You reach the elevator just as the door slides open. You're trying to decide if you should say something. Trying to think of a way to approach this in a way that will actually get him to talk. The air in the elevator is thick, more so with his shift in attitude than with heat.
Logan is locking himself inside his head. He can’t organize his thoughts and all he feels is stupidity. He can't understand why he's over analyzing, much less what he's over analyzing.
He doesn't know it's basically radiating off of him. Unaware that you've been staring at him to try and decipher what's wrong.
You utter out "Are you okay?" just to cut through the thick silence (and hopefully the wall he's locked himself in). You're sure he hears you, but the sliding of the door gives him the perfect opportunity to continue to ignore you.
Again, you trail after him. The wheels scrape against the hardwood, a testament to how hard he is pressing into the metal.
You're confused, sweaty, and almost on the verge of nonconsensual tears when you reach Storm and the other kids. The girl from the floor has turned into mostly puddle. Everything besides the tip of her shoulders and up are deflated to the wood. The other kids have spread to the floor themselves.
Logan shoves the crate towards Storm.
"Alright," he says curtly, once again crossing his arms. "Cool this shit down."
You fiddle with your fingers as Storm unlatches the metal. Her eyes gloss over to a milky white while she lifts the lid. The temperature drops almost instantly, and you begin to shiver.
"Done," She says, blinking away the glaze. "Charles said that-"
"Great," Logan cuts her off with a slam of the metal lid. He slides it around before moving back towards the elevator. You glance back and forth between Storm and Logan for a second. When you meet her confused expression, she gestures back towards him.
Ignoring the comfort of your sheets and lack of emotional drainage, you jog after Logan.
---
He huffs at you when you reach his side.
"I can push a metal box by myself," he says dismissively.
"Okay," you say, just to get something in the air. "Am I not allowed to come with you?"
You regret even speaking anyways as he scoffs at you, kicking the crate into the opening of the sliding door. It hits the wall with a loud clang. You flinch, but you're more concerned about him to not slip into the door at the last second.
You hug yourself as you start to shiver. Logan rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and turns away from you to lean against the wall. For the third time tonight.
You are racking your brain. Screaming at yourself to say something, literally any words at all. It feels like you've been panic-searching your thoughts for anything to say for a while.
"Are we not moving?" You ask. You wait for an answer before repeating, calling him by name and moving to stand in front of him.
He huffs before standing straight. After a beat, he says "We're not."
"Shit, how should we -" You start, but are cut of by the metallic unsheathing of Logan's Claws. In a blur he rears back and slices through the door, scraping three parallel lines across the metal.
"Jesus Christ, Logan!" You snap out at him. The glare he gives you while his claws sink into his skin makes you back up into the wall.
"What the hell is your problem?" you say evenly.
He scoffs at you, muttering out "Don't know what you're talking about."
"You just sliced the wall open," You point out, gesturing to said wall. "And you're acting like you're pissed at me"
"You're imagining things," he says back, resuming his position against the wall with his arms folded.
"Oh, that's bullshit. You're literally sulking in the corner and you want to tell me that isn't happening."
Logan stays silent. You almost expect him to turn into the wall so he can pretend to not see you.
"Logan," you say, trying to catch his eyes. "Why can't you be upfront with me? It's very easy to say 'Hey, you pissed me off because of this' or 'Oh, something sparked a bad memory' or, I don't know, 'I don't want to talk about it' "
"I don't want to talk about it," he responds. You smack the back of your head into the wall behind you in exasperation.
"Oh my god, obviously that was just an example. Please just tell me what's wrong."
Logan raises his eyes to meet yours for just a second. You catch his gaze, and you can tell that he wants to tell you. When you quietly say his name he looks away.
"Logan, you’re being mean." Your eyes flick over him, trying to catch any more indication that he'll open up. He stays stoick, stubborn piece of shit. You decide to wait just a moment longer before giving up. If he's going to be this adamant about whatever happened, you aren't about to keep fighting him on it.
"Okay, you’re pissing me off and I give up" You spit, sinking to the floor. You draw your legs up and fold into yourself, the chill of the room sinking into your skin.
It takes a long, awkward amount of time sitting in silence before you her Logan speak.
"You're cold," he states.
"No, I'm not," you say into your arms. Shivering.
"You look cold," he once again states plainly.
"I'm not, stop talking to me."
"I thought you wanted me to talk," Logan retorts at you. You look up at him over your arms, seeing a smug look on his face.
"Yeah, if the words you say are 'Hey, I'm sorry I'm being a dickhead and shoving stuff around and slicing into walls and ignoring you. I'm just thinking about X,Y and Z, which is making me feel X,Y and Z,' and then I would say 'Oh my gosh Logan, I had no idea! I'm so sorry, I wish you told me so I didn't make a big deal out of it because I thought you hated me!" You snap at him, mocking his voice for emphasis.
He blinks at you, and you move your head back into your arms.
"I don't hate you," he says quietly.
"You're acting like it."
"I don't."
The softness in his voice makes you sigh. You decide to take it easy on him, and ask him to come to you.
"What?" he asks, hesitation evident in his tone.
"Can you come sit next to me, please?" You ask softly.
"Why?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.
"Because I'm cold and you run much warmer than I do."
He moves and sinks down beside you, thankfully. You scooch closer until your arm is against his. The warmth of his body radiates against yours.
"Can you please talk to me?" you break the silence. The smallness in your voice chips away at his resolve, but his pride is still in the way. He's embarrassed enough about being upset in the first place, he can hardly stand (much less find the words) to say anything to you.
"Look, I'll literally cover my eyes so I'm not even looking at you," you offer, covering your eyes with your palms. "Please, just tell me."
"It's stupid," Logan says, pride dwindling down.
"I don't care, I promise. Please, Logan," You plead.
He sighs loudly, searching for the right words. He stutters out a few syllables before managing a sentence.
"In the kitchen earlier, you flinched away from me. I don't know. Didn't feel great."
Your hands dropped from your face. He was staring down at the floor. He looked embarrassed, maybe downright ashamed. You gently placed a hand on his arm.
"Logan, I'm sorry. It was just so hot and I felt all gross and sweaty. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear."
"Okay," he says, but his eyes never left the floor.
"And that's not stupid. I freak out over the tiniest things in the world."
"Yeah?" he huffs out a small laugh, finally turning to you.
"Yes, duh, I'm a girl. One time you didn't sit in the stool right next to me and I had to suck my tears back in and I thought about it for two days straight," you told him.
"Because I didn't sit next to you?" he teases, and you push off of his arm in mock annoyance.
"Yes, I'm not kidding. I remember once when you came back from a mission you ignored me when I said 'hi' to you on the stairs and locked yourself in your room for almost two days. I was genuinely convinced you wanted me dead and I couldn't function until you'd brought me toast because you thought I was sick."
"You weren't sick?" He raises an eyebrow at you.
"No! I thought you wanted me to jump into oncoming traffic!" You laugh at yourself, feeling ridiculous after replaying those few days back in your head.
"Okay, okay, I get what you mean. I don't want you dead, by the way. Never will." His face has relaxed and the tension in the air completely dissipated. You tilted to rest your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat and enjoying the comfortable silence.
"Seems like I get you pretty worked up, huh?" Logan smiles to himself, knowing he'll get a rise out of you.
"I'm not answering that," you snort, giving him a side eye.
"Are you kidding me?" He says in a deadpan.
"No! I'm not answering that," you sputter, forcing an even tone out of yourself. "Why'd you get so upset about me moving away from you?" You shoot back.
"I'm not answering that," he says, and you now shove him away jokingly.
"Oh, come on!"
You both start to giggle at each other, needing to look at anywhere except at the other. Weight has been lifted off both of your chests, being stuck in the elevator long forgotten.
"So," Logan speaks, letting the word hang in the air for a second. He wonders if the feelings he's completely sure are mutual should remain unspoken. "Are either of us gonna do anything about," he gestures to the both of you. "Or..."
"Oh man, I was wondering which one of us was going to take the bait first," you giggle out to mask the nervousness settling in your chest. "You almost had me, I never figured you'd say anything."
"Did I?" He asks. You turn to him and meet his gaze, smirking at him. You hum happily after a few seconds, turning away from him to lean on his arm once more.
"So," Logan says again, so you mock him and echo the word back.
"So," he tries again, obviously wanting a certain response from you. You bite, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
"Oh my god, you can just kiss me. I'm cold, I'm not moving my arms," you say to him, earning a short laugh from him.
Logan moves and scoops you into him, sandwiching your arms between both your bodies. You slide one of your hands up him so that your fingertips reach his collarbone. His nose is just touching yours, and he tilts, barely touching your lips.
"So," he whispers against you. You snort and shove his face away with your free hand.
"Okay, nevermind! Get away from me!" You giggle, Logan following suit.
You feel Logan's hand move to the back of your neck, and you blink at him a few times with a small smile. Finally, he leans down to kiss you. You snake your free hand up to the side of his neck and grasp onto a few tufts of his soft hair. He leans into your touch slightly, so your curl your fingers in response.
One of his arms releases you to brace the floor for support, the other moving to hold you tighter. His fingers splayed across your shoulder blade as you slip your other arm out. You slide your hand up the side of his abdomen, almost moaning when the feeling of his back muscles reach your fingers.
You both pull away for a second to breathe before diving back into each other. Logan pulls you towards him, hand that was on the floor now sliding down your side to squeeze at the flesh of your hips.
He pulls back from you and presses and open mouthed kiss just under your ear. You crane your head back in response while feeling your way up the front of his body. Your fingers dip over the curves of his abs and over his chest, and then slide over his shoulder and down his arms. You think about the glisten of his body earlier in the night, the shadows of his muscular biceps and forearms.
"You and these damn shorts," he groans between the kisses he's now leaving on your collar. You let out a breathy laugh.
"I'll take them off later, they don't even fit," you say, pulling his face up so you can kiss him again.
"I hope you'll let me help," he says into your open mouth, causing you to squeeze your thighs together as you heat up.
The shrieking sound of metal against metal surrounds you both, and you shove Logan off you to scramble to your feet. He moves besides you, claws unsheathed on instinct.
The door of the elevator slowly slides open, coming to a halt while it's halfway open. Charles and Jean were waiting from the outside.
"There you both are," Jean huffs out. "You've been gone for about an hour."
"What time is it?" Logan asks, moving out into the mansion floor and sinking his claws back into his knuckles. You follow behind, the chill coming back to your skin.
"About 4:30 in the morning," Charles replies, gliding away from the opening of the metal door. "I suggest you all get some sleep while it's still early." He looks pointedly at you and Logan before rolling to face Jean.
"Agreed. Goodnight you two," Jean says, moving down the hallway to her room.
You and Logan make your way up the stairs, still buzzing. You stop at his door while he opens it. He turns to face you. Once again, you're back to staring at each other hoping you both can understand what the other is thinking.
"Well, good night Logan," You sigh. He cocks an eyebrow at you.
"You're not coming in?" He says while leaning against the door frame.
"Oh," you begin, a smile nervously making its way to your face. "Well ... I ..."
"I gotta help you with those shorts, remember?"
You can't help the soft laugh that leaves your mouth. You move towards him and step just into the doorway.
"I'll take all the help I can get," You say up at him. He takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arm and move you both through the door.
He turns you both, pressing your back against the wall next to the doorway, shutting the door as he molds his lips into yours. His hand slides under your flimsy yellow tank top as you hear the click of the door lock.
More than likely, neither of you were getting much sleep tonight.
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