#i love tonight bc tonight is drabble night

[selfcarecap]

Lip Gloss [A.D.]

Art Donaldson x reader (x Patrick Zweig)

summary: Art loves when you kiss him while wearing lip gloss and it gets all over his own lips. What he loves even more is when you get on your knees for him and he ends up with lip gloss stains all over another certain body part of his.

warnings: smut 18+ (oral m receiving, fingering f receiving, handjob, reader and Art have sex next to Patrick who is asleep but they have permission, submissive-ish!Art, a bit of voyeurism from Patrick – he doesn’t ask but for the sake of this fic we’re assuming consent bc it’s fictional, m masturbation, spitting, cum eating, pet names: good boy, baby, reader says Art is ‘wet like a girl’), feminine Art (so dare I say canon Art🙂‍↕️) or at least he likes lip gloss lol, Art and Patrick are college roommates – attraction heavily implied between all three of them but only Art and reader are in a relationship, this was supposed to just be a drabble lol there’s no plot just porn, also i’m kinda intimidated by the challengers fandom lol idk but anyway here's my first challengers fic sddslkh <3

word count: 3.4k | gorgeous divider by @dollywons

When you first start dating Art, you always apologise for wearing lipgloss when you’re kissing him. You always wipe it off his lips after a kiss, pulling your sleeves over your hands to get it off his mouth. You’ve heard that guys don’t like it, but you like wearing lipgloss and Art has never complained. 

When you get more comfortable around him, you don’t always wipe the gloss off his lips, letting him do it himself. But he only does it because he feels like it’s what he’s supposed to do. Guys aren’t supposed to like the feeling of lip gloss. He’s probably supposed to tell you it’s annoying and ask you to stop wearing lip gloss, at least when you’re with him. 

But he doesn’t want to control you, and he doesn’t want you to stop wearing lip gloss. He just wants you to stop apologising for it.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he tells you every time with a smile, but you still do it. 

“I know it’s sticky. I won’t put any more on tonight, don’t worry.” Art stops himself from pouting at your words. 

And yes, Art once applied the lip gloss that you left on his nightstand. He was missing you and the lip gloss was the closest thing to you that he had. He ran into the bathroom when Patrick came home, wiping it off furiously before his best friend could see. 

He likes keeping a shirt of yours at his place so that he can smell you even when you’re not there, but what he likes even more is to apply your lip gloss. It’s just a thin layer, but it makes him feel like he’s been freshly kissed by you. There’s nothing wrong with that, and there’s definitely no reason he does it other than to feel closer to you. 

-

You’re getting ready for the birthday of a friend one night. You’ll be going to a bar for a bit, nothing big. But you’re doing your make-up on Art’s bed with him sitting behind you, hands on your hips. 

“You look so pretty.” 

He says those words for every step of your routine. He wants you to know how beautiful you are no matter how much or how little make-up you’re wearing, even if it’s cheesy. Art grins when you show him the finished look, and his eyes stay stuck on your glossy lips, tinted a dark pink, almost red colour. 

He knows you can’t resist it when he looks at you like that, he never can when it’s the other way around either, so you press a kiss to his lips. Art knows that you’ll be wiping the sticky gloss off as soon as the kiss is over, so he deepens it to keep the feeling of lip gloss on him, even though Patrick is sitting in the bed right next to you. 

Knowing him, he’s probably staring and enjoying it; Art wouldn’t be surprised if he heard the sound of Patrick’s phone camera going off. 

You smile against Art as you part your lips for him, trying but not quite managing to bring yourself to stop kissing him yet. You have to physically take Art’s chin between your fingers and push his face away from you to stop. And yet, you give in again immediately, peppering his face in kisses before you pull away for good. 

You give Patrick an apologetic smile, even though you both know he doesn’t mind you and Art making out next to him. By the time you look back at Art, he’s already wiping at the lip gloss stains all over his face. Your cheeks heat up when you realise how many marks you’ve made on him. You forgot you put on a darker and more pigmented lip gloss than normal. 

“Wait,” you giggle, pulling away Art’s hand that’s already trying to wipe the sticky gloss away, “I’ll bring you a wipe.” 

“Doesn’t he look pretty like that?” Patrick comments before you have a chance to get up. Art throws a pillow at him. 

You look between them, at Art’s face littered with shiny, sticky stains. His lips are especially dark and shiny, as if you just put some lip gloss right on there, albeit a bit messily. 

“Of course he’s pretty like this,” you say, not looking away from Art.

 “Then just leave him like that, he likes it.”

“I don’t,” Art defends much too fast, and Patrick laughs. Art reaches for his pillow to throw at Patrick but remembers he already did. He’s about to stand up to go to the bathroom and get a stupid wipe himself, but you grip his t-shirt and he sits back down. 

“It’s okay if you like it, baby. It’s hot that you do,” you try to whisper the last part, and pull him in by his t-shirt to kiss him again, “Let me clean you up, and I’ll put some lip gloss on you properly.” 

“Only cause you think it’s hot,” Art calls after you weakly. 

Patrick laughs again. 

“Shut up.”

Art shyly tries to catch a glimpse of his face in the mirror. 

You sit back down in front of him, gently cleaning his face. You hold out the lip gloss afterwards, placing a hand on his face to apply it, the wet pop sounding when you undo the lid. 

“Wait,” Art leans back abruptly, as if you’re about to hurt him, “I want it from your lips.” 

You huff, smiling at him. You apply some more lipgloss to your own lips, taking your boyfriend’s face to give him a kiss to his pursed lips. You apply more and kiss him again. You both smile at the oddly innocent kiss – pursed lips against pursed lips. 

You wipe away the excess over Art’s cupid’s bow, grinning at his shiny, sticky lips. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” you tell your boyfriend, and he blushes. 

“Show me,” Patrick says, leaning forward to see Art from the front. Art turns his head away from his best friend, red up to the tips of his ears now. 

“Show him, baby,” you coax, reaching out for his chin to turn his head. You know Patrick likes to make jokes, but not when his best friend is like this – eyes like those of a puppy, genuinely embarrassed. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything, but Art has made it such a big deal in his head that he can’t like having your lipgloss on his lips that Patrick knows he needs encouragement right now. Patrick moves to sit at the edge of the bed to look at Art better. “Look at you, Artie, all pretty. Looks almost as good as on your girlfriend.” 

You roll your eyes – you should’ve known he can’t be fully serious. 

“You have to leave now, you’re already late,” Art reminds you, and you let him press another kiss to your lips. You’ll have to clean up the mess he’s made on your mouth on the way, but you don’t mind. You watch him enjoy the feeling of the sticky gloss on his lips a few more seconds before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You and Patrick share a look, rolling your eyes, and you blow a kiss to Art before you close the door.

 - 

You come back home early, before midnight. The birthday girl left to go see her boyfriend halfway through her own birthday party, so you’re back at Art and Patrick’s dorm. You’d be annoyed at your friend if you didn’t have your own boyfriend to go visit.

Patrick is already lightly snoring when Art opens the door for you – he’s in nothing but boxers – and you know what that means.  

Patrick has given you two permission to do whatever you want while he’s asleep, as long as you’re quiet. You’ve always wondered if it’s a tactic to secretly listen in on you and Art having sex, knowing that you would’ve otherwise never done it with him in the room. 

Art has a small light on next to his bed, and you join him on his mattress. A few leftover glitter particles sparkle on his lips, and you pull his face closer to yours. 

“Suits you so well, Artie. So pretty.” You swipe your finger over his bottom lip. He kisses it, stopping himself from smiling. He’s already looking at your lips, and you mentally pat yourself on the back for remembering to reapply your gloss just before you got here. 

You kiss him then, and Art licks into your mouth as if he’s been starved and waiting to eat you up since you left. You adjust your position to sit on top of him, and your knee grazes his lap. He’s already fully hard.

“Sorry.. couldn’ help myself. Pat fell asleep and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you grin, holding his jaw, “You want me to make it better? Want me to go down on you?”

Art nods distractedly, mumbling out, “please, baby. Need you”. Your thumb brushes the gloss on his lip, and Art opens his mouth. You pull your hand away before he can wrap his lips around your thumb, and you kiss him as a whine escapes his mouth, muffling his voice.

You press your lips against his until they’re coated in your shiny gloss, and then you slide a finger into his mouth. He sucks on it – pink, sparkly lips around your finger.

“You look so pretty. Should wear my lipgloss more often,” you tell him, and he turns his head away in fake-annoyance, your finger slipping out. You feel his hard cock against your leg again as he moves, and you pull at his chin to open his mouth.

Art moans as you messily push three of your fingers into his mouth to get them wet against his tongue. You pull them out and slide them down into the waistband of his boxers, and down the length of his cock.

You put your hand over his mouth before he has a chance to moan, and you nod towards Patrick. He’s asleep, his back to you, but it’s not going to take long for Art to wake him if he keeps being this loud.

You get up, and Art pulls his legs to the side of the bed as you sit down between them. He’s straining against his boxers, a tall tent pulling the fabric taut. You release Art’s cock, and it slaps against his abs. He’s glistening down his length from where you spread his spit on him, a small puddle of precum already at the tip. 

You giggle quietly, “So wet, baby. You’re wet like a girl.”

“Shut up,” he whispers back weakly, biting his lip to stop a smile from spreading over his face.

You kiss the wet tip, licking the precum, and begin to leave lip gloss stains all down his length.

“Feels so good, baby. You’re so good at this,” Art says not nearly quietly enough.

“Shh, baby. Don’t wanna wake Patrick up.”

Your boyfriend nods, but you don’t think he’s listening.

You take his dick into your mouth properly now, wet heat enveloping him as you take him deeper, and you look up to see how he bites his lip and lets nothing but a breath slip past his lips as he watches you.

“Good boy,” you whisper to him. He intertwines his fingers with yours by the side of his hip, and you look up to smile at him. You ignore how, when you look past Art for a split second, you can see Patrick clearly jerking his cock under the blanket, the movement of his arm making it obvious. 

You shake your head slightly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Art’s best friend, and you take your boyfriend deeper down your throat as your spit drips to his balls. Art looks down at you with such restraint on his face, it almost looks like he’s about to cry.

He manages not to make a sound when you suck his dick more eagerly, your lip gloss smeared over his cock as you jerk off what you can’t take past your lips. The only sound in the room is the wetness of your mouth and your spit around your boyfriend’s cock.

Art lets out a shaky breath as his abs contract, his hand squeezing yours, and you softly nod up at him, taking his cock as deep as you can. He whimpers pathetically when he spills his load down your throat, and you swallow it all as he keeps cumming and cumming in your mouth.

When you pull away, out of breath and with your lips wet, you take in the picture you created. Art’s cock is full of your lip gloss, his face shiny with a thin layer of sweat, his cheeks as red as the gloss you left on his lips earlier. You’re about to stand up and get a wipe to clean Art up, but he pulls his boxers back on.

He likes the glossy stains on his cock even more than the ones you leave on his lips. 

He pulls you up on the bed, lying you on your back. “Please can I go down on you?” he whispers, mouthing at your neck and down your chest, pulling your top down as much as the tight fabric allows, whining when he doesn’t get all the way down to your nipples.

As much as you want Art to eat your pussy, you won’t let him. He always gets messy and loud, moaning almost uncontrollably as he makes out with your wet pussy, and there is no way Patrick could pretend to sleep through that. 

If you thought Art was going to cry earlier from how good he felt, he reaches a new level of teariness now when you tell him no, eyes almost glassy.

“Tomorrow, okay? You can still use your fingers now.” Art looks at least somewhat assuaged at your offer, and lies down on his side next to you, unknowingly shielding you from Patrick. You don’t know if he came along with Art, or if he’s still jerking off, and that makes it even more exciting. 

You know Art would never cheat on you, but if you gave him permission to, and if he admitted his attraction, you’re sure he’d jump at the first opportunity to invite Patrick into bed with you two. You know Patrick feels the same. You like the thought of him listening in, making himself cum to the sound of his best friend and his girlfriend having sex.

“Here,” Art urges, holding a hand to your mouth, even though he knows you’ll be more than wet enough from giving him head. You spit into his open palm, and Art spits in too, the way he always does, liking the feeling of your combined warm wetness against his skin. 

Art reaches down your body and into your underwear, adding to the wetness. He rubs your clit in messy circles, kissing you even messier. You spread your legs for him more, but Art lets out a frustrated huff.

“Can I… want you naked,” he mumbles against your skin. Art watches with puppy eyes as you get up, taking off your tight top and grabbing your favourite oversized shirt of his instead, sliding off your trousers and panties only once you’ve put the shirt on.

“This is all you get.”

Art looks happy enough as you get back into bed with him, sliding a hand up your shirt now that he can comfortably get under the hem, and cups one of your tits.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” Art says against your lips, hand moving back between your legs to play with your pussy, “So pretty.”

He circles your clit for a few moments before he pushes a finger inside while making out with you, remnants of his own cum still in your mouth, spit and gloss between you two as he continues to rub your clit.

“You’re the prettiest woman in the world,” he says, voice almost strained, and you realise he’s hard again, humping the mattress as well as he can while lying on his side, “Wish I was inside your pussy right now.”

You have to resist giving in to him – he’ll be insatiable the rest of the night if you let him fuck you even just for a few seconds – but you reach down to pull his cock free from his boxers, wrapping your hand around him.

“Can you focus if I’m doing this?” you ask pointedly, and Art nods eagerly.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be a good boy. I’ll make you cum,” he promises, slurring his words as your thumb swipes over the tip. But he’s not lying, he’s still fucking your pussy with his fingers. You’ve trained him well, so he knows what to do.

You can’t deny that you’re both getting loud now, if it’s not the moans you don’t quite manage to swallow down, then it’s the sound of your wet pussy and your slicked hand around Art’s cock.

You cum almost at the same time, Art rubbing your clit at just the right, albeit messy, intensity, and your thighs squeeze around his forearm when the orgasm flows through you, your own hand not stopping around Art’s cock. He’s breathing hard, reaching for the tissues on his headboard, but the tissue box topples over and falls against his shoulder and to the floor as he tries and fails to rip out a tissue.

“Here, I got you, baby,” you angle his cock to his abs, so that he won’t be spilling all over his own sheets, and you only have to jerk Art’s dick for a few more seconds before he’s shooting ropes of cum over his own skin. His abs glisten as his breath stutters, and he has to wrap his hand around yours to stop when he gets too sensitive.

“I love you so much,” Art huffs with a smile, and you kiss him briefly.

“I love you too.” You gather his cum off his abs, wiping it over your palm and holding it over his mouth. It drips and falls between Art’s parted lips. Art hums when you slip your fingers into his mouth, and he sucks the last drops of his load off them.

“Such a good boy,” you rub your thumb over his cheek, gazing at him in awe.

“I love you so much,” he tells you again, a soft smile on his face.

When you’re done and you look over, Patrick is back to quietly snoring, a freshly crumpled tissue by the side of his bed. You kiss Art before you can begin to smirk, and you briefly consider telling him. You decide it’s a conversation for another day. Art would definitely get hard again if he knew that Patrick was jerking off to you two doing it, and he’s already squeezed out two orgasms just now. You don’t need him that overstimulated tonight.

You remove your makeup and get one of the fresh pairs of panties Art bought for you to keep at his place. You walk back into the bedroom and find Art on his back, smiling at you all fucked out. 

You lie down with him, letting him cup one of your tits for comfort so that he can sleep better. You kiss his cheek and see that his lips are still shiny with glittery gloss. You decide not to offer to clean him up, now that you know he likes it like that. 

P.S. Thank you for reading <3 Reblog and comment for Art to come and kiss the gloss off your lips 🤭

[moonlight1110]

Needy bf!Simon Coming Home from Deployment

Bf!Simon x Reader thoughts bc it's been a hot min since I last posted :')

Tags: afab!reader, smut, NSFW, far from canon Simon, not proofread, no reader dialogue, quick read

Notes: just thought I'd try to post something small, I can't for the life of me come up with a solid plot for a fic TT but I hope y'all enjoy these little drabbles

Bf!Simon is always rather quiet the first few days of being home from deployment. He needs his relaxation after a long few months of being away and needs that time to reacquaint himself with the home you two share.

He will eat dinner with you, chat and help with the chores but he goes straight to bed when he's done, quickly falling asleep even before you could get the chance to say goodnight or cuddle.

The first few days are always a bit of a rollercoaster, but you're used to it at this point, and he appreciates that even though he doesn't voice it out.

One night though, when you joined him in bed after a quick shower to freshen up, he wasn't asleep like he was the past few days after coming home, this was made evident when you had suddenly felt his strong arms wrap around your midsection, his chest pressed against your back as he held you close.

"Love..." He mumbled, his hot breath fanning over your nape as he began to press gentle kisses against your skin, his hands slowly roaming over your clothed body, splaying over your belly as he pressed himself closer.

"Missed you so much..." He mumbled, his voice low and gravelly all the while gently trailing his hand lower, caressing the soft skin of your thighs as his hand travelled beneath the silk fabric of your nightgown.

He was driven by the way you gasped and whimpered from his touch, his lips ever so gentle as his kisses trailed to your shoulders, taking the strap of your nightgown between his teeth as he gently pulled it down, leaving your skin exposed.

Simon wasted no time, not in any mood to tease. All he wanted to do was feel you against him, feel your skin against his own and claim you again. He was a man starved, though he didn't outwardly show it.

"M'sorry... That I haven't been loving you the way you deserve, pretty girl... Just needed some time to rest..." He explained, his words muffled slightly as he pressed kisses on your skin, whispering promises of pleasure and praise in your ear.

He gently cupped your mound beneath the nightgown, earning him a gasp from your lips which made him groan in satisfaction as he gently rubbed his fingers over your clothed pussy, feeling your heat even through the fabric.

His free hand trailed up until he reached the top of your nightgown, pulling it down to free your breasts. He wasted no time in cupping one in his hand, humming in satisfaction as he felt the weight of the plump breast in his palm.

"Beautiful..." He whispered, his breath against your ear as he gently rolled your sensitive nipple beneath his thumb, pinching it and caressing it with a gentleness he always had with you.

Meanwhile, his other hand lowered itself, sliding past the waistband of your underwear, his fingers immediately finding your clit and rolling it between his middle and ring finger, coating them with your slick.

"Can't fuck you the way y'need tonight, baby... But I promise I'll make it up to you..." He whispered against the shell of your ear, his hands working in tandem to bring you pleasure with slow and languid motions, his rough hands adding a layer of pleasurable texture against your sensitive clit.

The hand that was on your breast had moved lower, gently lifting your leg up to allow for more access as his fingers teased at your entrance, swirling around the throbbing muscles.

"Gonna take care of you, baby... You're so gorgeous like this... All mine..." He promised, his words quiet and rough against your skin as he slowly pushed two fingers inside your aching pussy. The feeling made you groan, toes curling at how unfamiliar they felt from being away from him for so long.

"That's it, pretty girl... Just relax and let me in... Missed this pretty pussy, baby... Missed being inside you..." He whispered, planting gentle kisses all across your skin as he began to stretch you open on his fingers, spreading your walls slowly to prepare you.

You could feel his growing bulge behind you, pressing against your ass as he fucked you on his fingers but you knew he'd be saving it for when he was ready enough to fuck you properly, for now, he was focused on using his fingers.

"Good girl... Taking my fingers so fucking good... Need to stretch you open before I fuck you tomorrow, baby... I promise I'll make you feel like I never left..."

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

[glamourscat]

May i please request headcanons, maybe a drabble of the batboys where reader is trying so hard to pretend that they don't know anything about their partner being a vigilante because they want to be told with trust and the boys are growing increasingly concerned about their s/o's obliviousness bcs like?? and the their s/o keeps saying things like "haha yeah!! red robin's super underground but that costume is pretty good timmy!" and "oh? i do have a thing for morally gray men, lovely red hood costume" whenever they accidentally see parts of the costume and can't pretend they didn't see it

idk i just think it would be funny af, ty in advance!!

i decided to go for drabbles. they are quite long so i only did jason and tim. should i do dick, maybe steph too, in the near future? let me know!

"You can't be serious," Jason thought. It's not that you're blind, and he’s not exactly being subtle. He knew from day one that being involved with a civilian meant the topic of his nightlife would eventually come to light. Before getting together you two had been friends for a long time, but he never quite managed to outright say, "Hey, by the way, I’m Red Hood." How do you even drop something like that into a conversation? 

Yet, as your relationship grew, more milestones came along and suddenly, you two were approaching your 2 year anniversary. Now, more than ever, as you found yourselves living together, Jason knew it was going to be harder to explain his secret. How many lies could he keep telling about going to help Roy or some emergency with Dick? How many nights could he still sneak out after you’d fallen asleep, only to return aching from a patrol?

So, he started leaving subtle hints. From his domino mask to his gloves… but hell, at this point, he might as well leave his whole costume out, because how in the hell are you not picking up on the clues?

“You know, Jay, that vigilante... What's his name? The one in red? Oh right, Red Hood. He’s pretty cool, right? I mean, he has a different approach than the others, i think some would say morally gray. I mean, hot.. Anyway, but—oh, wait, this is a lovely Red Hood costume! I didn’t know you were a fan too?!”

At that moment, Jason didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or do both at the same time. Maybe by accident—maybe not—he had left his entire costume out. And it wasn’t exactly cheap. The fabric was thick, heavy, it was definitely not something you’d find at a Spirit Halloween. Yet, you just folded it, didn’t ask any questions, and continued with your little chat.

“Doll, you got a moment?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible because he was seconds away from laughing his lungs out.

“Yeah, Jay?” You looked at him, internally sweating. Did you give anything away? Did he suspect that you knew?

“You know, doll… that… the costume. I mean, it’s not fake, right? I…” He sighed, trying to find the right words.

“It’s real. Because I’m the Red Hood.” There. He’d said it. A relieved sigh left his lips as the words came out. Now comes the hardest part: your reaction. Would you laugh? Be shocked?

“Oh, yeah. I knew.”

What?

“What—? I beg your pardon?” Jason asked, his voice laced with disbelief, eyes scanning you to figure out if you were lying.

“I mean, you’re not exactly the most subtle, love, are you?” You said, amusement dancing in your eyes as you tried to hold back a smile. “Besides, I found out a while ago. I was just waiting, I suppose. It wasn’t my place to ask or say anything. I figured when you were ready, you’d say something.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Wait… when did you find out?” Jason raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Well, you see… It wasn’t that hard. At the beginning of our relationship when I’d tell you, ‘Hey, I’m going out with my friends tonight,’ and then coincidentally, when something happened—because it’s Gotham, let's be honest—there you were, Red Hood, swooping in to save the day. Always fleeting, never lingering too long. But what was really odd was that both Red Hood and my new boyfriend had the exact same walk style. Not to mention, Jay, mask or no mask, costume or no costume, I could still recognize you. Even in a crowded room.”

Jason just stood there, stunned. How had he missed all the signs? A part of him was relieved, he didn’t have to keep lying, but another part of him couldn’t believe he had been so obvious. You were too sharp for him to pull anything past you. And to think he was under the impression he had you fooled…

As he looked at you, he realized there was more to your patience than just waiting for him to confess. You’d known, but you’d never pushed him. It made him wonder how long you had really been aware. But now that it was out in the open, Jason found himself surprised by how easy the weight of the secret seemed to fall away. He’d been carrying it for so long, and yet, with you, there was no judgment, no shock. Just acceptance.

"You've always been patient with me," he murmured, his voice soft but grateful.

You gave him a warm, knowing smile, stepping closer. "Because I know you, Jason. And I know what you're doing matters. It’s a part of who you are, just like everything else."

Tim was stressed, but to be fair, Tim was always stressed. You two had been dating for a good while now and had been friends for much longer. However, somehow, he still hadn’t brought up the whole vigilante thing. Maybe it was because he was scared, or maybe it was due to his own selfishness. For once, he just wanted someone to see him as Tim and only Tim. But the truth was, he couldn’t exist without Red Robin. He knew that. And it had been too long. He knew he had to say something. But… does he?

Still, something didn’t sit right with him. It was the way you weren’t questioning him anymore on why he was always so tired, why sometimes he had to be gone for an entire week or why he trained so intensely. His physique, though not the most built, was still incredibly fit for a “simple rich kid.” And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand if you were just pretending not to notice or if you honestly hadn’t put it together. But when you suggested what costumes to wear for Halloween, he almost passed out on the spot.

“Yeah, I mean, we can do a couple’s costumes or… I don’t know, Tim. We can always go as… hmm? What about we go as vigilantes? I can be Wonder Woman and you can be Red Robin. It’s pretty underground. I’m sure the costume will look great; besides, you already have a good replica in your wardrobe. Fits like a glove, no?”

Like, this had to be a joke, right? Sometimes Tim wondered if his life was some kind of reality show, secretly followed by cameras just to capture his reaction to these weird, questionable moments.

He froze for a moment, staring at you, trying to piece everything together. Was this your way of telling him you knew? Was this a test?

“Uh... you... know?” he asked, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and disbelief.

You look at him confused. “Know what?” You shrugged, casually leaning back in your chair.

Tim blinked, his mind racing. He was smart, very so, but at this very moment he felt like the most ignorant being on planet Earth. He looks at you and you look at him and for a moment there is this unspoken, silent battle.

“You know, that I am Red Robin.” he says, quietly. Eyes searching yours for an answer.

“And what if I do?” you reply back equally quietly.

He had expected a lot of things. Shock, anger, even confusion, but not this calm, almost nonchalant acknowledgment. And yet, a wave of relief washed over him. You weren’t angry or disappointed. You weren’t even all that surprised.

“I’ve always known, Tim,” you continued, your tone softening. “You’ve been dropping clues left and right. The late nights, the cryptic phone calls, the strange bruises... And don’t even get me started on your ‘training’ routines. I never pushed because I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. And now, here we are. Although… I certainly did not imagine it to happen in such a way” you say, letting out a small soft laugh. 

Tim let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging in a way that felt like he’d been carrying a weight for far too long. "I didn’t want to burden you with it. I didn’t want to be Red Robin to you. I just wanted to be... just Tim."

You smiled softly, walking over to hug him. “And you are. You’re Red Robin, sure, but you’re not just that; are you? You’re Tim. My Tim. Two things can coexist at the same exact time, this is just what makes you.. You, ya know?” 

Tim stared at you for a moment, hands around your waist, his mind still processing. It was as if the entire weight of the secret identity he’d been carrying all this time suddenly evaporated. He had been so worried about how you would react, but now that it was out in the open, there was nothing left to hide.

"Thanks," he whispered, his head dropping to your neck. Hiding, but not really. It was more or so a way to feel you even closer. 

Your head gently resting against his, brushing a kiss against his hair. “Always, Tim. You’re still the same guy I fell for. I love you.”

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

[remlionheart]

Hello beautiful

Can I put in a request where Megumi and reader both have a partner but are fully attracted to each other and Megumi of course plays it stoic, indifferent etc. but then something happens( I haven’t figured out what event exactly, maybe they get drunk at a party?I’ll leave it up to you 🤍) and they succumb to their needs( a little coercion from Megumi oops) and Megumi is just so pussy drunk, whiny, non sensical blabbing mess and reader baby traps him 🥴🥴

I just need Megumi so bad, he plagues my mind every second of the day… I need therapy and Jesus. Thank you if u decide to go with it, love everything you do 🤍🤍🤍

Hi pretty ♡ Sorry to say - no Jesus here, but maybe this can be therapy for both of us bc I’ve been thinking about this ask heavily since I got it. And what better time to start a depraved lil drabble than at midnight on the night of a full moon? 🌙✨

((as always, all characters are aged up to 21+, if u don’t enjoy that feel free to scroll along ♡ all trigger warnings are in the request itself, lemme know whatcha think, luv u ✩࿐࿔ ))

⋆˙⟡MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Megumi’s new girlfriend was sweet, kind, cute. Always by his side no matter what and tonight was no exception.

She was smiling at you with her hand wrapped delicately over his arm, asking you how you’d met your date… who was also, at your side and wrapped around your arm. He was cluelessly bantering back and forth with her while you and Megumi exchanged the same pointed look.

It was subtle, the way his blue eyes lingered on your boyfriend’s hand placement, watching him gently squeeze your hip as he laughed at a joke that two of you had missed entirely.

You'd only been been dating this most recent fling for a few weeks - it was hardly anything to be jealous of, but the fact Megumi had noticed at all gave a sick part of you satisfaction. It was an unspoken rivalry you had with him, one that you typically found yourself on the losing end of. He’d fuck someone, so you would too. He’d date someone, so you would too. He’d show up to this stupid fucking party with a date, so you would too.

It was the same pitiful dance that you'd been doing for the last year and a half, your feelings for him always right on the tip of your tongue but never at the right time.

Watching his girlfriend rest her head on his shoulder as the four of you continued on with your mindless banter was your own personal hell and yet, you said nothing. Instead, mirroring them, clinging onto your own date harder as you pretended to care about whatever work story was being tossed around.

The night carried on like this for the next hour or so as the once small house party started to evolve into something rowdier. The music getting louder and the living room getting more and more crowded as you knocked back three more drinks.

You were dizzy, trying not to lose your balance while you excused yourself from your group to go venture upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your boyfriend had offered to come with you, but you insisted that you were alright, shooing him away with a smile as you told him to go get another drink.

He seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want that to end just because of your pathetic urge to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want you back.

Your footsteps came to a clumsy pause, a small, drunken laugh escaping you as you entered the bathroom and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your red dress was shorter than you remembered it being when you left, your hair just as perfectly disheveled as your thoughts. You steadied yourself before taking a seat, letting the music from downstairs provide you with a comfortable sense of privacy.

You had just washed your hands and were in the middle of throwing your hair into a bun when the door opened unexpectedly. Your ankle almost sprained from how quickly you’d whipped around, your heart stalling in your chest as Megumi looked back at you with the sound of the lock latching behind him.

“The hell are you doing, Fushiguro?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms folding over his chest as he rested his back against the door. “Since when do you date coworkers?”

You almost laughed you were so stunned, your posture straightening a bit as you continued to keep your attention focused on your reflection and not on him. “Since when do you care who I date?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, “just don’t want to hear you complain about it later when things don’t work out.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a stupid smile at how annoyingly apathetic he had to be at all times. “And you felt it was necessary to follow me into a bathroom to let me know that?” You countered, finally turning to face him.

It was the first time all night that you’d seen his stoic demeanor start to waver.

His eyes narrowed as he raised his brow at you, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You’re drunk.” He quipped, taking a slow step towards you. “Just because your boyfriend’s careless enough to let you go running around by yourself doesn’t mean I am.”

Your throat was suddenly dry at how close he was to you, his tidal wave eyes flooding your senses as they dragged down to your lips.

“Your girlfriend’s downstairs.” You reminded him, desperately trying to ignore the heat that was gathering at your center.

“I know,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck as he held you in place. “But you’re right here.”

“Megumi…” Your voice nearly trembled, your insides catching fire at the feeling of his lips grazing yours. “We can’t…”

Your protest was hardly convincing though - not with the way your body was having its own private conversation with his. Practically begging to be touched as he wedged his knee between your thighs just to see how much temptation you could withstand.

He knew you wanted this. Knew that you thought about it just as much as he did, if not more. You’d always followed him around like a lost puppy. Always mirrored whatever he did like your intentions weren’t glaringly obvious. He’d been fighting to restrain himself for the last year and a half. Did everything he could to not succumb to the carnal urges that plagued him every time you showed up to his house in the shortest sundress he’d ever seen. He kept himself busy with other girls - lied to himself and pretended that it wasn’t you he was thinking about when he closed his eyes and thrusted into them. But you were everywhere, not just tonight and not just right now, but always. A constant thought in the back of his mind. A task he couldn’t ever mark as complete. A gnawing, agonizing, need that he couldn’t fight for one more fucking second.

“I’m so tired of it always being someone else,” he said against your lips, letting out a heady little exhale at how submissively you were staring back at him. “I want it to be you.”

The coiling tension in your lower abdomen felt like it was going to snap as the firmness of his knee pushed at just the right angle, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while his words swirled lazily through your mind.

He was right- you must’ve been drunk because there was no way he was prompting you to grind on him. No way that he was parting your lips with his tongue. No way that his grip was tangling into your hair as your hips began to rock rhythmically against him. No way that he was helping lift your bra over your head all while a mere staircase separated the two of you from your partners.

There was simply no way any of this was real.

His mouth was warm against your skin, kissing and nipping across your collarbone while his hand palmed at your chest. “S’fucking pretty,” he praised, his gaze pointed at the way your dress had nearly hiked all the way up your hips as you kept riding his leg.

“Show me what you do when you’re alone thinking about me,” he panted, “just like that, don't fucking stop.” His voice was sinful bliss trailing back up your neck, your dress now only covering your midsection as he pulled the straps of it down over your arms so that the top half met where the bottom half had ridden up.

You were dangerously - pathetically, close to cumming, not caring at all who heard you as your nails dug into his shoulder blade. Your needy little clit still pushing and pleading into his leg. “More,” you begged, “please - this isn’t - fair.”

“It’s not fair?” You hated the moan that slipped out at the sickeningly sweet way he mocked you. “Poor thing." His mouth was warm and torturous in the shell of your ear. "You know what I don't think is fair?"

The whimper you let out was all the answer he needed though.

His fingers wrapped delicately around your neck - an odd sense of security laced into them despite the way they were cutting off your oxygen. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to want you this bad.” His other hand suddenly roaming along the curve of your hip. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to pretend not to care when you do dumb shit like dangle new men in front of me.” His lips returned to yours, catching all the little whines that were escaping you. “And I really don’t think it’s fair how hard I’m about to fuck you while he’s downstairs waiting for you.”

It definitely wasn't the sentence that should've brought you to your breaking point, but it did. His grip tightened on you, fingertips digging perfectly into each side of your neck making your vision blur and your center ache. Your moans were every bit as broken as your thoughts, your eyes not leaving his while he nodded back at you.

"That's it." His grasp slowly began to release, loosening up with each whine you let out for him. "Cummin’ so easily for me.”

The room was still hazy, electricity dancing along your skin as he gently helped bring you to your feet before turning you around. You watched him from the reflection in the mirror, a dizzy smile cutting across your face while you watched him slip your dress all the way off and bend you over the counter.

"Fuck," he groaned, admiring the slick glistening off of you as he undid his belt. He ran two fingers between your folds, his mouth slightly dropping open at how sensitive you were to his touch - the cute little noises he could coax out of you by barely doing anything and the way your back arched so perfectly for him.

"Look at me," he breathed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as he lined himself up with you.

His eyes trailed back up to yours, his tip carefully prodding at your entrance while he watched the desperate little expression that had taken over your features. "God damn," he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat at how faithfully your walls were swallowing him.

You were so wet, your brain and body both completely enamored with the sight and feeling of him sinking into you. The waiting game you'd been playing was well worth reward and you were enjoying every inch of your prize.

He was stretching you so tenderly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Though he'd told you to look at him, he seemed to be the one having a hard time maintaining your stare. His pretty blue eyes were glazed over, his composure starting to leave him the longer he looked at you.

"Oh my god," he groaned, "why do you feel so fucking good?"

His rhythm became harsher, both his hands grabbing onto your hips as he used you to his liking. “You know how many times I've thought about doing this, huh?" You weren't sure where your moans ended and his began, the rest of the world slipping away as he continued to blissfully bully his way into you. "Look at you, so pouty and pretty. Taking me like such a good girl."

His words made you clench, your cunt nearly suffocating him as he kept letting out more incoherent praises. He was just as lost as you were, just as dazed-out and unaware of his surroundings. The only thing keeping him grounding was the sound of you whimpering his name and how it kept getting needier and louder.

He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone in the entire house knew that he had you bent over with your tits pressed against the counter and your ass flushed firmly against him. Wanted them to know that it was his name you sang out when you came.

“Megumi -” you whined, “right there, ohmygod, right.. the - re.”

Your walls spasmed around him, little hearts and stars suddenly filling your vision as your eyes rolled back. “Please,” you begged, chasing the blinding white light of your release as far as it would go, “cum inside me, please - fuck, don’t stop.”

He knew he shouldn’t. Knew you weren’t on birth control. Knew you well enough to know how desperate you were to keep him around. He knew all the risks. Knew what a terrible fucking idea it was and yet,

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he grunted, his movements just as needy and out of control as yours. “For me to fill you up,” he was losing himself to the thought, “to go back downstairs with me dripping down your leg? Yeah, I bet you fucking would.”

It was the worst idea. Every reasonable part of him screaming at for him to stop.

“Y - es! Please, please - ah~!”

But the sound of you begging made that reasonable part of him disappear entirely, replaced by an absolutely unhinged part of him that he didn’t even know existed until that very moment.

He wanted your belly to swell, wanted everyone to look at you and know that it was him who had bred you and that it was him who would do it again and again. He was going to make the whole world know you were his and it made him fucking feral.

He groaned, chest heaving as he gave you one last punishing thrust, burying himself as deep as he could as he twitched inside you. His breath hitching in his throat, his mind only filled with you and your body only filled with him.

A beautifully damning warmth coated your walls while you shot him the prettiest, haziest smile he’d ever seen. Both of you slowly returning back to reality.

He carefully pulled out of you, watching the mess the two of you had made spill out of you as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him.

His hands were warm against the sides of your neck, thumb placed firmly under your chin to tilt your head up towards his, ��Next time you decide to shove another guy in my face,” he said, “you better make sure they’re not dumb enough to leave you alone with me.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[noosayog]

[Said Enough] Suna might have said too much but what's he supposed to do if you won't let him apologize?

wc: 1k

contents/warnings: angst(!!!) to fluff, quick drabble bc my Atsumu exes to lovers longfic isn't writing itself

“Oh,” you say. You stare at Suna and he watches you blink once before the last bit of light in your eyes dies out, irises glazing over. 

Shit, he thinks. He’s running after you because he realizes what’s about to happen next. 

All that comes out of your mouth is “okay. Um. I’ll just…” you don’t finish that sentence before running to the bathroom and locking the door shut. 

He runs after you, but you beat him to it. The door slammed in his face, Suna rests his forehead against the wood and lays a flat palm on the divider between you two. “Baby…” 

He doesn’t know what to say. He can hear your sobs and hiccups through the door, frustrated that he’s the cause but can’t get to you. 

Scared to death thinking about what giving you your space could mean for the two of you. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. Can you please open the door so we can talk?” but he knows it’s a lost cause. It’s been a lost cause since you beat him to the door. Turning around so that his back is against the door, he crumples down to the floor, head buried in his hands. 

He should’ve known the second he saw the shutter in your eyes. He should’ve- fuck - he should’ve grabbed onto you to stop you from closing that door and shutting yourself away. He completely deserves to be single after the hurtful things he said to you tonight, and he wants a chance to apologize. Preferably, to your face. But with a literal wall between you two, you now have all night to think about what he said. All night to realize you deserve better. All night to conclude that you should leave him. Nothing scares him more than the look you’ll give him in the morning when you realize how much he doesn’t deserve you. 

The rest of the night is spent periodically checking in on you and sending apologies through the walls. Your sobbing eventually quiets down into slow, measured deep breaths and but that brings little comfort. He can only hope you’re peacefully asleep and not awake to gather your thoughts and solidify your breakup speech for him. 

–

Suna’s jolted awake next morning when the wall he’s leaning against suddenly shifts. He’s falling backwards as the door slowly opens, revealing your swollen cheeks and red eyes. 

As if his nightmares have come true, there’s no uncertainty in your expression. It’s polite and shuttered. 

“Rintaro,” you rasp, voice gravelly. 

He’s already shaking his head. 

“I think we should-” 

He can’t let you finish that sentence. If this is the last chance he’s been waiting for, he needs to do something. So he puts both hands on your shoulders, gently, and looks straight into your eyes. It takes a surprising amount of courage to face that foreign look you’re fixing him with, and he realizes how lucky he has been to always be on the receiving end of your warm gaze and easy smiles. 

“Please,” he whispers, almost begging. “Give me a chance to say I’m sorry.” 

“I think you’ve said enough,” you respond, avoiding his eyes.

“Sometimes,” he starts. “Sometimes, I say too much and I’ll try harder to not do that. But more than that, I don’t say enough. I don’t tell you I love you enough and I don’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you do for me enough. I also don’t say I’m sorry enough but I want to stop doing things that I’d need to apologize for.” 

You’re still not looking at him, but your lips are wavering and your eyes are watering. 

“But I can’t change last night, so I want to apologize. I’m so, so sorry, baby. I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” As many times as you’ll allow me to. 

His heart is palpitating and he can feel his pulse racing so hard, he can feel it through his veins. He wants to clench his fist to channel the nerves elsewhere, but they’re on your shoulders, and after last night, he can’t even think of treating you with anything other than the gentlest of touches. So you can understand how much you mean to him and how much he means to take care of you. 

Yes, he didn’t mean any of the things he said last night, but he does mean to treat you well. He only hopes those intentions are enough. 

Suna puts a hand on your cheeks and wipes the tears away with his thumbs, fingers lingering. Your tears don’t stop and the hiccups are starting again. You’re shaking your head at him and his heart drops. He hasn’t thought about what he would do if you don’t accept his apology. His voice is shaking a bit as he pleads his case. 

“I… don’t want to break up,” the last two words whispered, as if he was scared that saying them aloud would give them power. 

You’re sobbing, not saying anything, just shaking your head. 

Suna doesn’t know what that means, only desperately hoping that you mean you don’t want to separate either. He throws his arms around you, tightly crushing you against his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for impact, and he can hardly believe it when you reciprocate. 

“You were so mean to me, Rin,” you blubber. 

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” 

“I hate you,” you’re wailing right into his neck now. 

“I know, I know. I love you.” 

When your sobs finally settle down, you keep your arms around his neck. “Rin, I’m sleepy,” you murmur, nuzzling into him. 

He hums, the relief and lack of sleep hitting him all at once. He’s just as unwilling to let you go as you’re unwilling to let him go, so he picks you up by the thighs and takes you to get the sleep you both missed out on last night.

[sat0sugu-angst]

Well, We've Got the Rest of the Night

A continuation of "I Only Need 10 Minutes" where you come home drunk an horny

wc: 2.8k

cw: super sappy bc im a sap, fingering (f. receiving), oral (m. receiving), unprotected p in v, squirting, little bit of aftercare, subby reader, lemme know if i missed something

a/n: i'm back from the dead! this has been sitting in the drafts for agesss i've just been drabbling here and there and got it to a point where i thought yall might enjoy it too

rbs/comments let me know you liked my work! don't be shy 💓

MDNI

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You wave to your girlfriends from the front door as the Uber drives off. After fumbling with the keys a little, you eventually get the door open and stumble inside.

"Babe?!" You call out from the entryway. Even though you can't see him from the door, the light from the living room gives him away.

"Yeah, kitchen." He calls back. You work your way out of your shoes as you head deeper into the apartment, nearly falling, but you catch yourself on the corner of the counter.

Katsuki is sitting at the kitchen table, paperwork laid out before him, and his glasses hanging on the end of his nose. When he sees you, the tension in his face melts, and though he's not quite smiling at you, you can't help but grin. The way he looks at you, with a softened brow and an ease only you could give him, made you feel like you could fly. You come up behind him, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling into his neck.

At first, you just hug him, making a contented noise in the back of your throat in greeting. "You have fun tonight?" His voice was level, but you could feel his heart racing under your fingertips.

You smile a little while you nod into his neck, but then you're kissing the skin there. Your fingers glide slowly up and down his chest, lips brushing over his throat as you say, "I've been thinking about your mouth all night."

"Mm," his voice rumbles under your fingers. "Barely touched you'n you can't think about anything else, huh?" His hand rests lightly on your arm, and you feel his thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. He was surprisingly affectionate, you realized early in the relationship. He never shied away from your touch, however casual or intimate, and returned your affection in kind. Katsuki may not always be able to proclaim his love in words, but the way he held you left no doubts about how he felt about you.

You shake your head in answer to his question, pulling back slowly so that your fingers brushed up his arms and shoulders. You use those same shoulders, and the chair next to him, to push yourself up onto the table, too drunk to care about sitting on his paperwork.

He was smiling at you with perfect ease, his lips quirking up as you made yourself comfortable. You lean in and clumsily press a quick kiss to his lips, barely steadying yourself with your hands on his chest. When you pull away, he's still smiling, a smug tinge in the way his eyes challenged you. You can't help but feel shy under the weight of his gaze. "Always think about how you touch me," you whisper.

There was something fond about the way he regarded you, his gaze thorough as it trailed down your body. He grabbed one of your ankles, the one closest to him, and moved your leg so that you had one on either side of him. Then his arms wrapped around your hips, grabbing at your ass just enough that he could pull you toward him, and you were right at the table's edge. Your dress bunched up at your hips, and your underwear was clearly visible.

He leaned in for another kiss, hands on either knee. He holds them wider so that he can lean right against you, and then they slide up through the insides of your thighs before settling back on your hips. His lips move from your mouth toward your jaw. "And how could I think about anything other than the way you look when I touch you? Fuck, look at you. Could barely get any work done knowing you were somewhere lookin’ so good."

His mouth moves toward your ear, stopping right beneath, breath teasing the sensitive skin there. "So fucking sexy. You dance a lot tonight?" You can't help the way you gasp as he runs his tongue up your neck, slowly and deliberately, tickling you in the best way. "You taste so fucking good." You realize he's probably tasting dried sweat from dancing all night, and feel heat between your legs.

His teeth lightly graze the skin where he'd been kissing you, and you let out a small cry in pleasure. One hand is on his chest, gripping the front of his shirt without a care about stretching the material. The other goes around his neck, running your fingers through his hair.

Kissing down your body, he unzips your dress and pulls the straps over your shoulders in a heap of fabric in your lap, leaving you in only your lacy pink bra. His hands tease your breasts, running over them briefly on their way down to your legs.

He's watching you as he lifts your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, and you bite your lip in anticipation. Before you see his hands, being blocked by the fabric of your dress, you feel his fingers glide along your slit over your underwear. "Fuck," you gasp, sensitive, hands resting on his jaw, near his chin, leaning in to press your lips to his as his fingers tease you.

You're whining for more before he eventually moves the fabric aside, and he bites your lip when he feels how wet you are. "God, you're fuckin' perfect, aren't you?" He breathes against you as he runs his thumb through your slick, spreading it up to rub right where you'd been craving him. You find yourself grinding into his hand, whimpering against his lips as you kissed him harder.

He knows your body so well by now, you barely have to give him direction; with each whimper and cry, he shifts just so until he has you shaking in his arms. You feel yourself nearing your climax, and Katsuki can feel it, too. Feel how you begin to flutter around his fingers. "Fuck, baby, are you coming right now? Go ahead and come on these fingers."

But you stopped, trying to control your muscles and keep yourself from cresting over. You pull away so you can look him in the face. "No, not yet. It's your turn. I don't wanna come again unless you're inside me."

His brow quirks up in confusion. "But I'm already inside you." As if to prove his point, he thrusts into you meanly. You gasp, but he holds eye contact with you. "You really don't wanna come?" He asks, and you shake your head. He begins pulling out of you, slowly, and you can't help the noises you make. He smiles up at you. "Don't feel like it with the way you're clenching around me for more." And he presses back into you.

You cry out, muffling your voice by tucking into the crook of his neck. You can't help your blush. "Katsuki," you whine, but it's no use, his fingers resume in that painfully delicious rhythm and his thumb rubs circles against your clit. He grabs you by the hair at the nape of your neck, gentle but unyielding as he pulls you back to look up at him.

There's something possessive in his eyes as he looks at you, but there's a softness, too. "Come on, baby, come on these fingers and I'll fuck you properly."

You clench involuntarily, wanting to look away from the weight of his gaze. Sensing you becoming self-conscious, he leans up to kiss your lips, his thumb applying just a little more pressure so he could press his tongue into your mouth when you gasp. He keeps you like that for a moment, sucking lightly on your lip before pulling back again. Most of your lipstick had smeared, ending up on his neck and mouth, but he was fascinated by the light swelling from the force of your kisses. "How you can still manage to feel embarrassed with me, I'll never understand." His voice is soft, even as he adds another finger, filling you more.

But how could someone get used to the intensity in his eyes? The way he looked at you, kissed you, touched you. It was greedy and deliberate, but oh, so gentle.

You look back from his eyes to his mouth, leaning in for more kisses. He reacts in kind, following the way your hips began to move against his fingers and slip his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help whining in his mouth as his fingers worked you up again, and it was only a matter of time until you could feel your climax washing over you in waves. "Katsuki, uh—" you leaned into him, tightening your arms around him and pressing your forehead against his.

"Just like that," He says, peppering kisses all over your face, anywhere he could reach, as his fingers guided you through your orgasm. "Fuck, I wanted to take you to bed, but I'm gonna hafta fuck you on this table."

He pulled away only a little once you'd come down, not enough to pull himself out of your arms, but your legs dropped down to either side of his hips. Just enough for him to work his buckle undone.

"Wait," you said, grabbing his arms and pulling them from his pants. You got down from the table now, nearly stumbling from the drink and your fresh high, but steadied yourself with your hands on his waist. You pull him in for one slow kiss, grabbing his hands and forcing him to sit in the chair behind him before you were getting on your knees. You still held his hands in yours, and you guide his hand to your face.

"I wanna taste you now." You said, hoping the way your lips brushed against the tip of his finger enticed him. You could feel your arousal coating his fingers, and you pulled his finger into your mouth and sucked on it, tasting yourself.

Fuck, He thinks, because you were such a slutty girl when you were drunk. He was excited he could come along for the ride. "You're fucking perfect."

You sucked once more on his fingers before releasing it with a pop! and continued the work of getting his pants off.

He was already hard when you pulled down his underwear, tip damp with precum. And as well as he knew your body, you knew his. You knew exactly how he liked his cock to be sucked. With each grunt, you knew you were working him up and it was only a matter of time. He tossed his head back and you grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him so that he had to look at you.

“Fuck,” He breathes, and you feel him twitch in your mouth. "I'm close."

"Mm," You hum, maintaining your pace.

"Fuck, wanna come inside you."

You have to pull off him for a moment to smile, grinning up at him sweetly. "You are inside me," you point out, echoing his words from earlier, before taking him back in your mouth.

He grins down at you, and he almost comes right there in your mouth, but Katsuki was used to getting exactly what he wanted. "Off, brat. Come sit on this cock."

Your body comes alive at the full force of his attitude, letting him pull you up. You’re trying to get your dress the rest of the way off, but with how it’s bunched, it won’t fit over your hips, and you quickly give up to work on your underwear, but Katsuki has other plans. He grabs a side with each hand and pulls, effortlessly ripping the lacy underwear in half and it falls away, leaving you bare to him.

“Katsuki!” You complain, but then his mouth is on yours, his hand in your hair, using his other hand to guide his cock as you took your place in his lap. As you lowered yourself on top of him, you pressed your lips to his for a kiss, whining into his mouth as his tip pushed into you.

You have a hard time holding yourself up in the kitchen chair, not quite enough room on either side of his legs for you to hold yourself up. You gasp as you fully settle in, how deep he presses inside you, you're certain you can feel him in your stomach. You whine, trying to use your arms to lift yourself up, but you feel his hands circle your waist, grabbing at your hips. "Don't gotta do a thing, baby." And then he thrusts. Hard.

The force of him pulling out and slamming back into you forces a breathy yell out of you. "Fuck, Katsuki!" You breathe, holding onto him for dear life.

"I know, baby," He says, as he sets a steady pace, the head of his dick bumping into that spot that has your whole body set alight. "You can take it. Just take this cock, baby." All you can do is hold onto him, trying to relax your muscles to let him in, but you feel him hit that spot over and over.

"Katsuki, please, I feel funny. Slow down or I'm gonna make a mess."

But there's no talking sense into Katsuki, not with the way you hug his dick so well. You wanna make a mess for him? He'd never turn down that kind of opportunity. "Just come, baby."

"You're not gonna wanna clean up tonight, we can't leave it til morning."

"Don't worry so much," He says, and punctuates his point by readjusting the angle of his hips so that he rocks against your g-spot again.

You only have time to let out a quiet, "fuck," before you both feel your release in his lap. You feel your muscles contract around his dick, and soon you feel the warmth of him coming inside. You're unable to stop the gentle moans falling from your mouth as he continues small thrusts as he rides out his orgasm, trying to muffle yourself in his neck.

He rubs your back gently as you both come down. For a moment, it's just the sound of you both breathing heavily against each other. You're tuckered out, exhaustion from the night hitting you as you relax in his arms.

Then he's up, holding you against him. You cry out when the shift of positions causes him to slip out of you, and you feel yourself clench around nothing. "Katsuki," you grumble, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Sorry, baby. Just wanna get you ready for bed before you pass out."

He carries you through the house and to your bathroom. You try to protest, but Katsuki is just as stubborn about cleanup as he is about how he fucks you, and after brushing your teeth and taking a shower together, he takes you back in his arms. Normally, you’d protest being carried around like a doll, but in the moment, you can't find it in you to complain, not when he smells like fresh soap and his skin is warm against yours.

When he sets you on the bed, you recline all the way back, closing your eyes. He rustles around the room, but when he goes quiet you open your eyes, finding him standing above you, now dressed, with a set of pajamas in hand. "C'mon, baby, time to put some clothes on."

You whine. "thought you liked me better without clothes," you tease, rolling over on your stomach and pretending to sleep.

You hear him scoff, and then the weight on the bed shifts as he presses in close to you. "Brat, you just wanna be babied, huh?"

You don't open your eyes, but you can't help the smile teasing your lips. “Well, I can do it myself, I just know how much you like to baby me.”

He grunts, but then you feel the bed shift, then the gentle pressure of his body laying atop yours as he holds himself up so his body rests against yours just so. “Been babyin’ you. C’mon ‘n be a good girl for me now.”

Your insides twist deliciously, and sigh dramatically. “Well I guess since you’ve been so nice,” you tease, and shift so you’re laying under him, facing up.

He snorts, pushing up to allow you to do the same. “Only for you.” You roll your eyes, but follow his lead and dress yourself. But mother hen was in a doting mood, and even after being teased, he helped you into your pajamas.

Once you were dressed, he stretches his arms over his head, yawning before crawling in beside you. He pulls you against him roughly, and you let him, tucking your head into his neck to inhale his fresh scent. “I did like that set, though.” you say, smiling against his neck.

He grunts. “Bra’s still intact.”

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight.”

He hugs you a bit tighter. “Night.”

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a/n: tysm for reading!

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @justanothernpcartist @inumakicanrailme 

masterlist mha masterlist

[crescenthistory]

I was reading your Animagus Reader fics and absolutely loved them so I had a little idea/request.

Regulus x Animagus!Reader where she is in her animagus form and she falls asleep in the library. It's already night and people are going to bed and so Barty wonders into the library and finds cat animagus reader, asleep and so bc he loves "his" treasure so much, he doesn't wake her up(surprisingly) and takes her back to his dorm where Regulus. Because Regulus is a spectacular boyfriend, he immediately recognizes his wonderful girlfriends animagus form and questions Barty why he has her. It's up to you how Barty responds and the entire conversation but, at some point Regulus asks for Barty to hand over reader to him and starts to whines and complains about how Regulus always hogs reader and he barely gets time with her, etc but, he even goes as far to say that he wants to cuddle with reader tonight but, Regulus gets her anyway(she is purring through this entire interaction).

Barty is also the type of friend I feel like who is cooing at her through this entire process even though she is asleep and can't hear it.

babe, i absolutely ADORE your vision for bsf!barty and his dynamic with regulus and reader. i wholeheartedly agree with the characterisation. i literally just expanded this exact take into a drabble, hope you enjoy mwah<3

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, barty pov, bsf!barty intended to be platonic but can be read ambiguously for both reader and regulus, implied background rosekiller, platonic and romantic physical affection, you're asleep through this whole fic lol, an appearance of pyro!barty

Note: as always, this is whiskers, the cat!animagus!reader i have written several fics for, starting with this one

Barty was bored. Endlessly so.

Evan and Pandora were off in Ravenclaw cooking up some potion Barty was strictly instructed to stay the hells away from. Regulus was off reading some stupid bloody paperback that Barty could swear he had seen him read before yet somehow chose to prioritise above him. And you, his favourite person, had not been seen or heard from for the past few hours. Probably off doing some studying like the swot you are, much to his chagrin. 

Barty was bored and his friends were boring.

What else could he do but go skipping down hallways until he finds something to do, then?

He had made it all the way through half of the library without finding any intriguing stimuli and he was growing jittery. With lanky fingers, he fished his muggle lighter out of his pocket and began flickering with it as he walked, eyes scanning the shelves.

There was a giddy itch rushing through him as he flicked the lighter on and off, on and off, the smell of it filling his nostrils familiarily.

Until his jumping gaze suddenly zeroed in on the one figure in the Hogwarts library that might have distracted him – a perfect treasure lying peacefully curled up on a coffee table between some settees. Whiskers, in all her white and grey fluffy glory, fast asleep with the cutest crinkled nose he could have imagined.

“There you are, kitten,” Barty cooed as his long legs sprung to action, marching towards your sleeping form. In the nearly abandoned library, he did his best to remain quiet and not wake you. He crouched in front of the table so his face was level with yours and an instinctive smile spread across his lips, one you had called soft once despite his many denials.

He reached out his right hand to scratch gently against your cheek in that spot that always had you purring, his messy stick and poke tattoos melting perfectly into your patterned fur. You heaved a dreamy sigh, nuzzling your face against Barty’s touch, still fast asleep.

“What’re you doing here, hm?” he asked despite knowing he could get no answer lest he wake you – something he refused to do.

Barty threw a quick glance to one of the many clocks scattered across the library, seeing that curfew was steadily nearing. When he went scouring for something to quell his itches, missing curfew was part of the point, but he knew that for you, this was likely a mistake. Judging by the notes strewn around you and your backpack still laying on a chair behind you that seemed to have been housing someone just a few minutes ago, you had not intended to fall asleep here. 

And even if Barty’s friends were boring, he did love the suckers, so–

“Alright, kitten, time to go home.” 

With the wave of his wand, he gathered all your belongings back into your backpack and easily slid it over his shoulders. Wearing none of the smugness one might have expected of Barty in this situation – just a small, indulging smile – Barty scooped you up into his arms. He quickly navigated your form from the table to slumping against his chest, trying to minimise the amount of movement you were subjected to, all the while making sweet noises to keep your mind tethered to its dreams.

Your feline face twitched a little, but required little more than his soothing voice and warm skin to fall back into your rest. 

Barty took a quick spin around to check if he had everything and once he was satisfied, he dropped a featherlight kiss in between your ears. “Come now, you absolute nerd. The library is no place to sleep.”

In contrast to his skipping and twirling from earlier, Barty stalked steadily through the hallways as he made his way down to the dungeons, only ever occasionally swaying you in his arms if you began to stir. He opened doors with wandless magic, at last grateful for Dorcas hounding him about practicing it so much – “you never know when you’ll need it, B” she had all but growled at him. Yeah, Cas, like when our feline friend is simply too cute to be awoken to the horrible sight of the sodding library.

Still, he was Barty Crouch Junior, so he made the stairs up to the boys’ dorm two at a time, an entirely new excitement growing in him at the thought of you sleeping over – and getting to rub his unearthed treasure in Regulus’ face.

The door opened with a creak at the flick of Barty’s wrist, and as he toed it open with his scratched up uniform shoes, Regulus’ voice already sounded through the room. “Barty? Have you seen Y/N?”

Barty turned around to shoulder the door open instead, so that his back was towards Regulus under the preface of closing the door behind him. “Oh yeah, I actually saw she found herself a new bloke. Much better looking.”

By the time he turned around with a flourish – cradling you even closer to his chest to ensure you weren’t rattled by his antics – Regulus was staring at him with a deadpan that suggested he already knew this new bloke had to be Barty.

“Ha ha,” Regulus said dryly, but his expression quickly softened when his eyes landed upon your sleeping self.

He had been laid out on his bed with his head propped up by pillows, his legs crossed by the ankles and his favourite paperback resting on his stomach, but he placed it face-down on his bedsheets in favour of sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at you with a smile.

“Hi, amour. Fell asleep again?” His voice was so sweet that Barty simply had to convey his nausea through faux puking.

“She fell asleep and is still asleep thank you very much, so don’t you dare wake her with your questions,” Barty reprimanded in a low voice before turning his attention back to you. Swaying you ever so slightly, he nuzzled his face against yours, causing you to purr loudly in instinctive response. “Aren’t you the cutest when you sleep, huh kitten?” He cooed, laying it on extra thick.

“Yeah yeah, and I suppose you’re the hero for fetching her.” Regulus rolled his eyes, walking up to stand in front of Barty. He reached out a finger to stroke across your face, but Barty backed away before he could.

“Precisely,” he said with mock arrogance. “I’m the hero, so I get to cuddle with the cute cat.”

“The cute cat is my girlfriend, Junior,” Regulus drawled. “And I’ve missed her. So hand her over.”

Barty looked him up and down, grin growing disturbingly. “No. I don’t think I will. You, Black, hog her too much. Time for you to share.”

Before Regulus could reach out and catch him, Barty sidestepped the curly-haired boy and went to settle down on his own bed. Regulus huffed and stalked after him, but Barty managed to toe off his shoes and slip beneath his blankets still with you in his arms.

“Barty, you cannot be serious,” Regulus all but whined.

“No, that’s your brother.” If Regulus had rolled his eyes harder, Barty was sure they would have popped out. “I’ve missed her too and finder’s keepers. So if you’re that desperate to spend time with her, then get in.”

Barty and Evan had magically widened their beds years ago to have more comfortable sleepovers, and seeing as their third was still out with his twin sister, there was ample space for Regulus to be able to slip in beside Barty.

The other boy huffed, looking around the room as if searching for a final form of leverage. When he came up empty, he scowled at Barty before all but ripping the blankets back. “I hate you, you know.”

Barty hummed as if he couldn’t be more in agreement all the while shimmying close against Regulus once he got comfortable. 

You shifted in Barty’s arms so that your hind legs and tail curled around Regulus’ upper arm, drawing an immediate cooing sound from him that made Barty giggle. Regulus couldn’t even deign to shove his best friend for his disrespect, his grey irises seemingly glued to you. Every movement of your whiskers, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the warmth seeming to emanate off of you.

“She was in the library?” Regulus asked in a quiet voice, lithe fingers grazing up and down your sides.

“Mhm, on top of that table she likes to sit by. Overstudied, I’m sure. You two swots deserve each other.”

Regulus shook his head with a smile, leaning his weight further against Barty’s side so that he could press kisses to your hind paws. Barty was grinning down at the two of you, happy for his friends and elated at having his way.

“No. None of us deserve her.” Regulus said it matter-of-factly. At the very same time you yawned and stretched burying your head into the material of Barty’s jumper, making him coo down at you lovingly, every bit as nauseating as he accused Regulus of being.

“For once I agree with you, my sweet Reggie.”

[chrollogy]

18+ MDNI; smut, purely self indulgent atsumu drabble bc i found out our mbti aren’t that compatible :( OR atsumu’s way of comforting you, pwp, unprotected s*x, cervix f*cking, creampie. wrote this while sick sorry. divider: cafekitsune.

── atsumu’s body hovered over your own, strong arms caged your head in between as he looked down at yu with that honeyed gaze you grew to love—a mix of pure lust, and adoration filled his hooded stare, his rosy lips parted to let out faux pained moans, and whimpers in the shape of your name.

atsumu looked past his flaxen strands that slightly covered his caramel eyes, hair unruly from the passionate kissing just mere minutes ago, “made jus’ for me—fuck!” the blonde gasped as he sinfully drew his hips back before languidly pushing his cock inside your sweet, sweet cunt.

a shameless, strangled whine slips past his lips at the feeling of your velvety walls kissing his most intimate part. atsumu reached for your hands, intertwining his with your own, and using them as leverage to fuck slow, and deep thrusts into you. he needed you to feel every inch of his veiny cock—every dip, and curve that had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head; atsumu was one to eagerly thrust into you on most occasions but tonight was different, he wanted to take his sweet time even if it meant pushing himself past his limits.

“see how yer pussy’s takin’ me so well, baby? like its meant ta be—ngh! don’t listen to that stupid website about not being compatible . . ‘m all yours,”

“yours to fuck, yours to love—yours to do whatever the hell y’want if it means makin’ you smile, yeah?”

you moan atsumu’s name, nails digging onto the back of his hand as the tip of his cock hits your cervix, sending a pleasurable bliss all over your sensitive body. atsumu momentarily pauses, his hips wickedly flush against yours, and cock sheathed deep inside your sopping cunt—his face fell to the crook of your neck as you sinfully squeeze around him, the feeling of climax gnawing at both your skins.

atsumu panted into your neck before desperately pushing his hips further into you, the bulbous tip of his cock prodded at your sweet spot, his balls snug against your ass,

“mhm—yeah jus’ like that, my darling. wrapped around me so good . . ya wanna know why—haah! because we’re made for each other, and no one can prove otherwise.”

lips parting into an ‘o’ shape, you let out a silent moan at how deep atsumu was—tears of pleasure prickled your eyes as he shallowly rocked his hips back, and forth, back, and forth, repeatedly kissing your sensitive core. you could feel him in your throat, and chest where your love for him resided. atsumu places a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose as though he wasn’t balls deep right this very moment, as though his abdomen wasn’t shaking from holding back his impending orgasm, as though you weren’t completely cock-drunk.

for the first time that night, a string of coherent words left your lips, “cumming—fuck! i’m cumming, tsumu!” with furrowed brows, and face contorted in ecstasy, you met atsumu’s gaze who only returned a simple nod before a his hand snaked down, down, down to your clit to rub fast, tight circles,

“cum for me, baby.” atsumu gasped against your parted lips. and you did—completely letting go beneath him, your body shivered in pleasure as you melted onto the sheets below; brain completely turned into mush, and incoherent string of babbles poured from your swollen lips. atsumu didn’t take long to cum, letting out a pained moan before sealing his lips with your own in an open-mouthed kiss while he painted your walls white—cock twitching inside you.

tears lined his eyes from the dizzying pleasure but he couldn’t care less because only you could make him feel this way. no one else.

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

[hoshigray]

HOSHII MY LOVE this is gonna be my first ever request to you 😕 i usually refrain bc i get shy but im so touch deprived rn i NEED YOU TO (only if u want to no pressure pookie) MAKE A LIL MAKEOUT DRABBLE with literally any character plsplspls its carnal atp i love u

-🍓

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the way i wanted to make this a multi-post, but i've been thinkng this exact scenario w/ toji for the past week, it needs to get out of my head!! i appreciate you entrusting you're first req w/ me awwww ;w;

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! reader - suggestive content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - dry humping/grinding - thigh riding - fluff yet...suggestive - grinding - thigh riding - fingering (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - Toji and you being touch starved - implied reader is toji's partner who looks after Tsumiki and Megumi (yes, I'm feeling soft, shut up) - mention of spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

After swaddling Megumi to sleep, you slowly put him in his cradle. The year-old baby snores silently as he leaves your arms’ warmth and lies in the comforting chill of the sheets. You then move silently to tuck in Tsumiki, the toddler sleeping in her tiny bed. You kiss her forehead gently, making her smile unconsciously. After saying a hushed goodnight, you close the door.

The plan was to stay until the kids fell asleep, stopping by your boyfriend's place for a night since it's been a little while since you last saw each other. Work’s been keeping you away for a minute, and stopping by at his apartment was needed to happen before you crash out from stress. And seeing the little ones’ faces was the cherry on top, their wholesome beaming faces instantly fueling your social battery. 

After silently walking out of the hall, you enter the living room, where your boyfriend stands by the chair with your bag. You smile pleasantly, teetering your way to him. And he, Toji, smirks at you, straightening a bit when you’re close enough. “Gotta go,” you say with a whisper. “Better catch some sleep before heading back to the office tomorrow. Megumi should be out till morning, so you should sleep easy tonight.”

“Thank Christ,” he makes you giggle, hushed not to wake the children.

The silence pushes you to look at him, your heart skipping at his forest green orbs already latched onto your frame. You cough faintly before grabbing for your purse. “Need anything before I go?”

A hand grabs your wrist to pull, and Toji impersonates thinking to himself while his hands snake to your waist to draw you closer. You roll your eyes – knowing what game he’s playing – but the smile on your face doesn’t falter. He then says, “Mmm, only one thing comes to mind.”

“And what would that be?” You quirk a brow, but your expression changes once he brings his face inches closer.

“I’m still waiting’ fr’ my kiss.” His gruff tone is dialed down, but his words affect a warmth to coarse through your chest.

It’s hard to say no when Toji’s nose brushes yours, lips hovering over yours, and your eyelids closing on their own. How long has it been since you’ve been close to him like this? You can’t even remember, work corrupting you for so long that this moment feels a little surreal.

“Hmm?” He teases you with a kiss on your cheek, and you shiver at the contact. “A guy can’t get a goodnight kiss before seein’ his baby off?”

You bastard… Holding back is futile when he kisses the corner of your lips, your hands cup his face, and bring him to your lips properly. He groans, the both of you sighing as your hands wrap around his neck.

You break the kiss, knowing it isn’t sufficient for you both. Toji licks your bottom lip, and you whimper as he kisses you again, a soft noise resulting from the withdrawal. “Toji—Mmm,” scarred lips claim yours once more, this time with more hunger. “I have to go…”

Your words aren’t acknowledged, not when he chews on your bottom lip — a signal for more access. Fuck, your resolve dwindles with the insertion of his tongue, almost going weak in the knees. But before that, Toji smoothly picks you up, and the sudden shift has you yelp.

“Stay with me,” Holy shit, the way he was looking at you caused your stomach to do flips. So entranced that you don’t realize he is walking to the couch to place you down on your back, crawling above you. “I missed you. Just tonight, sweetie.”

Liar, you know he wants you here for more precisely because that’s what you wish. But, “I…I can’t, I have to go—Mmmph…!”He slammed his mouth to yours again, nibbling on your lip until his tongue was let back inside your mouth. You moan, his leg propped in between yours, bumping his knee to your groin, which has you screaming silently. “Ahhnn! Toji, not there!”

“Shhh, relax, angel,” he coos, using a hand to massage your skull affectionately. He moves his knee, and you’re practically grinding on his thigh with a chewed lip.

“I can’t stay,” you’re hushed by his lips again, and your hips move on their own. “I have to go…Ohhh.”

“You say that, but look who’s ridin’ my thigh.” His chortle is low, and your stomach does knots. Toji moves your legs so he can be nestled between them, and kissing your neck melts you under him. “C’mon, princess, ya know I can’t let you go like this.”

Your brows scrunch together at him sucking your skin, legs coming around his waist as you hump into him. Toji does the same, rocking his hips to you perilously, the groin of his sweats grinding onto your bottoms, covering your throbbing chasm. God, it felt too good to stop now, your hands roaming inside his white wifebeater to purchase. 

He kisses you again, spit covering your soft lips, and you whine as he teases and sucks on your tongue; your breath hitches while his free hand slithers down inside your bottoms, and a shaky shriek is prompted by his fingers pushing into your panties.

“That’s right,” he coaxes you between pecks, loving the way your hands scratch on him. “Gonna treat ya right t’night, angel—”

However, the fun stops once you two hear the sound of a door crying, sniffling, and cries getting louder as they approach closer. It was Tsumiki, the poor girl shedding tears through her drowsy state. 

“Miki?” You call to the toddler; Toji quietly moves off you so the little brunette can come running into your arms. “Can’t sleep, sweetie?” She nods and burrows her face into your chest. You kiss her temple, “Must’ve been a nightmare.”

Her father hums and ruffles his daughter’s hair, chuckling when she swats his hand away. Toji then leans to your ear, “I’ll get the bed ready.” A mild glare meets a naughty grin before he gets up to his bedroom, leaving you on the couch to soothe the crying child back to sleep.

So much for sleeping easy tonight…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[shookuna]

m. fushiguro x gn!reader - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

a/n: another lil piece for a moot!! the loveliest ever @meguemii !! emiiiiiii i know u have been feeling a lil down recently so i thot a lil fic might cheer u up !!!! take this silly drabble w/ ur husband, pls enjoy him !!

just some dumb bf megumi, established relationship, megumi is a little mean in this but he doesn't mean it <3 cw: slight angst :(( bc megumi does not know how to Emote. but ends happily :))

wc: ~1.4k

"would you still love me if i was a worm?"

you ask out of the blue, rousing your boyfriend from whatever he was looking at on his phone. it's a typical night in for the two of you - take-out from your all-time favorite restaurant, cuddles, and a movie. it was his turn to pick tonight, and with no better ideas, he settled on some high-budget action flick that gojo-sensei had recommended.

"...pardon?" megumi asks slowly, his voice barely audible over the sound of swords clashing on the tv. he's facing you now with the most dumbfounded stare on his pretty face. surely, he must have misheard you. over the course of your relationship, you've asked him some pretty fucking stupid things ("if you were starving, would you eat me? like, what if i said it was okay.") but this might take the cake.

"you heard me. would you still love me if i was a worm?" you repeat, undeterred by the way he balks at the question. you could have just as well told him you thought the sky was green with the way he's looking at you like you have three heads.

"is this some sort of test?" megumi asks, furrowing his brows at you in mild frustration. he was still reeling from the time you asked him if he thought water was wet, which sparked an hours long debate. the sensible answer of "yes? it's water?" was not satisfactory for you, apparently, as you took it upon yourself to consult yuuji and nobara for their opinions. by the end of the night, all four of you were embroiled in a heated argument, with no one showing any signs of backing down. it was only when megumi suggested a truce that you all begrudgingly agreed, and the discussion finally ceased. having witnessed the extent of your stubbornness firsthand, megumi was in no hurry to see it again.

"no," you respond, stretching out the last syllable. "it's just a question. one i expect you to answer. would you still love me if i were a worm?"

megumi stares at you for a bit longer, his mouth opening and closing as he processes your inquiry. he'd gotten used to your weird antics, for the most part, but there were still times where you left him speechless, for better and for worse. he eventually settles on asking you "are you a worm?" in an attempt to assess your sanity.

"no, 'gumi," you roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks out at him. he could be so difficult when it came to providing reassurance, even in this roundabout way. "in this scenario, i'm asking you whether you'd love me if i was a worm. like, imagine i just got turned into a worm, all of a sudden." you clarify, which only serves to make megumi look even more hopelessly confused.

"i mean..." he starts, before hesitating when he sees the gleam of hope in your eyes. with his next words, he sees it die before his very eyes. "...no? obviously not?"

"obviously?!" you cry out indignantly, making megumi's brow furrows further. "what's so obvious about it?"

"i mean... i'm still a human in this... scenario, yes?" he asks, to which you grumble, "assuming you're human now, yes."

"okay, so i'm human, and you're a worm." he deadpans. when you still look at him expectantly, he adds, "that speaks for itself, really." the casual indifference in his voice wounds you even further.

"well, so what? i get turned into a worm, and that's it? you just stop loving me?" you protest, growing more animated as you speak.

"i don't foresee you turning into a worm anytime soon," megumi mumbles boredly, turning his attention back to his phone. he was prepared to dismiss the discussion entirely, to get on with your night and continue to ignore the laughably bad movie on the screen in front of you. when you actually pause the movie, he realizes that's not happening anytime soon. "what'd you do that for?"

"like you were even watching it," you scoff, before rising from your seat on the couch, "i just, i can't believe you would stop loving me just because i was a worm."

"just because you were a worm?" megumi parrots, raising his brow at you as he sits up straighter. "you can't say it so casually, like you're just getting a new haircut, or something." he attempted to reason with you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "you'd be a worm. we couldn't even communicate."

"i never said that!" you huff exasperatedly, and megumi just stares blankly at you. "i could, you know, spell messages out for you with leaves, and stuff..." you mumble under your breath, making him roll his eyes. "what?!"

"isn't it enough that i love you now?" he sighs deeply, attempting to appeal to your logical sensibilities. his words make your heart catch in your throat, and you can't help but avert your eyes away from his always piercing gaze. you knew it was stupid, to get genuinely upset at his answer to a question that had started as just a silly hypothetical. but sometimes, even though you knew megumi loved you deep down, you found it hard to reconcile his true feelings with his outward actions towards you. maybe he didn't have to love you if you were a worm, fine. but sometimes it felt like he might not love you now.

when you remain silent before him, megumi's eyes widen. shit. he didn't mean to hurt your feelings. how many times had this exact scenario happened before? where you were left to reassure yourself about megumi's love for you, when the man couldn't do it himself? you didn't deserve that. megumi knew it. "you... you do know i love you, right?"

more silence.

and then, even worse. tears.

your tears, sliding down your pretty face even as you attempt to blink them away. "i-i know, 'gumi," you let out a shaky breath, your voice scarcely above a whisper. "i know you love me. sometimes i just... i don't feel like you do." you say honestly, attempting to convey the depths of your feelings to the at times emotionally constipated man. luckily, your emotions in this moment require no further explanation.

"i... i know." megumi whispers out, in a voice so defeated that you can feel the little piece of your heart as it breaks for him. "it's just... hard, for me, sometimes, to..." he shifts in his seat, searching for the perfect words to put your mind at ease and coming up empty. "...to be honest with you, i guess. or, rather... to be honest with myself. about what i feel for you. about how much.. i love you.

"to admit that i'd... love you no matter what. even... even if you were a worm," megumi pauses and chuckles quietly when your face lights up, before continuing, "...it would force me to confront the fact that... yes, i would always love you. no matter what. and if one day, you woke up and fell out of love, if you realized you can do better than being with me, if you left... when you walk out the door..." he trails off, his eyes getting glassy as he casts his gaze down to the floor. "...you'd be taking a piece of me with you. a piece i don't think i could ever get back."

the air is heavy with the weight of his confession, and now it's your turn to stare at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes. you'd been dating for a while now, and he's told you he loved you before, but you'd never seen him like this. so vulnerable, his emotions spilling out as he threatened to come apart at the seams.

megumi wouldn't blame you if this was the moment that pushed you to walk out. after all, now, you had seen him at his lowest. his most weak. he certainly didn't expect you to fall in love even deeper after witnessing him in such a state.

but that's exactly what you did.

he nearly jumps in surprise when you throw yourself into his lap, draping your arms around his neck. "oh, 'gumi," you mumble, and the tenderness with which you say your little nickname for him has his heart racing in his chest.

"...i knew you'd love me if i was a worm."

© shookuna ! plus megumi header edited by me <33

[yesimwriting]

Please please please write for itwv. I would cry of happiness?

You seem like a lestat girl... But also a armand.

"You seem like a lestat girl... But also a armand." you clocked me and my love of toxic men omg

here's a lestat drabble just for u anon <3

Summary: Darkness encroaching on what's considered holy is one of the world's few consistencies. Or alternatively, Lestat enjoys your stolen moments more than he'd ever admit.

Warnings: my first time writing for a character so be nice bc that's always a little scary 😭, slight religious allusions/metaphors, no pronouns used but there are potential vague implications that the reader was socialized as a girl/woman

----

What's confined to the shadows holds little regard for the sacred. The absence of light leaves no space for the good, no sanctuary or safe place to keep darkness from swallowing the revered whole.

It's fitting, then, that Lestat cannot bring himself to let you go.

You shift, fingertips brushing against the inside of his wrist. There's a valiant effort on your end to keep the turn of your head subtle, but it's not enough to keep him from feeling the weight of your cautious stare.

He keeps his eyes on your ceiling. You're radiating a warmth he's not sure he'll ever grow accustomed to, the heat of you nowhere near as simple as blood and flesh alone. It's as if remnants of daylight cling to your skin, so alive and attached to you your touch should scald him.

"Did you miss me?" The question is a thing of greed rather than curiosity.

You're quiet for a moment, your mind warning you to not reveal too much. Your hand stalls against his forearm. "Of course I missed you."

Your thoughts focus on your own response. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is a facet of your being, a testament to your ever giving honesty. Regardless of vampiric gifts, your thoughts, your feelings are easy to notice, even when they're not simple.

Now, your head is latching onto a myriad of things. Ever the lamb blinded by the wolf's clothing, you were more than just happy when he appeared at your window, you were relieved. A part of you, however, was still worried in a way that came close to making you resentful. The contrasting feelings blend together now, enjoying his presence isn't enough to make you forget his absence. Humanity and its ability to turn an approximate two weeks of nothingness into something with meaning.

Lestat turns his arm over, his fingers finding yours. "You seem to have little interest in showing me."

An exaggerated sigh falls from your lips. You move further onto your side, attention now openly settling onto him. From you, divine prophecy takes the form of a barely there crease between your eyebrows and your lips pressing together to fight against a smile. There's a similar sort of revelation in the way you're looking at him now.

"That is not true." You're working at an irritation you don't feel in an attempt to mask your desire for this type of conflict. Your elbow presses into the mattress as you prop your head up. "The only thing I've done tonight is dote on you."

In your defense, you always give as much as you can. You're generous with your attention, listening to his every word as you hold onto him, gentle fingers attempting to work warmth into stone flesh. It's a companionship unlike anything else. What once was only a simple form of entertainment has morphed into a dichotomy that shouldn't exist. You ever the saint and him the night's creature tainting holy ground.

He drags his thumb against your knuckles. "Really? You're doting on me?" The corner of your mouth pulls itself upwards, the look bordering on a smile. "And if I were to tell you I want more. What then, ange?"

Your thoughts instruct you to hold his gaze as you squeeze his hand. "Then I think I'd have to warn you of the dangers of greed."

"I'm a selfish man." Lestat lifts your intertwined hands. You watch him curiously, blood dragging its way up your neck as he presses his lips to the back of your palm. "I don't need a warning."

You're so close now he can feel the flush of your skin. "You talk like it's too late for you."

The promise of eternity is enough to quell the effects of irony. It's human nature to cling to ideality, to believe that the world is something they can take at face value. Still, from you, the comment is enough to make him smile.

The comment is closer to a joke than a genuine analysis, but it's clear that you mean the sentiment. Your eyes are bright, forgiving in their kindness. Perhaps if you knew what he was, you'd no longer look at him like he's responsible for the stars hanging in the sky.

"Maybe it is."

Your expression briefly falters, but before any changes can take root, you're moving back. You remain on your side as you lie down, head resting against his side. "I doubt that."

He begins to trail his fingers against your shoulder. You'll fall asleep soon, and he'll leave the way he always does, shedding the only version of himself you'd ever welcome with open arms. "Of course you would."

"What?"

His palm settles against your back. "You're a good person, mon ange." The vagueness of the topic paired with the tinge of something harsh in his voice leaves your thoughts restless. Lestat should take care to not pull at threads, to not leave you with questions he cannot answer. "Almost irritatingly so."

You lift your head enough to rest your chin against his ribs. "Irritatingly so?" The words are repeated with an easiness that manages to surprise him, your easy mood returning. "You're impossible."

"And you missed me desperately."

You stare at him skeptically, eyebrows drawing together and head angling itself to one side. "I never said desperately."

He pulls your arm towards him, fingers digging into your hand with enough force to imply a warning. "Do not be mean."

"I'm not," you defend, tone conveying a honey sweet innocence that could convince anyone you're incapable of wrongdoing, "I'm only saying I never told you how much I missed you."

You don't realize your mistake until the sentence has already left you. Lestat grins. "And how much did you miss me?"

Ignoring the warmth making its way up your chest, you shake your head once before moving to lie on your back again. "Oh, infinitely so. I spent my evenings in utter agony.

The facetious response is not enough to distract from your thoughts. You missed him more than you'd ever be willing to admit. For now, he'll leave you your pride. After all, he'll have other nights to focus on drawing out our praises. "Fine, be sarcastic. We're all entitled to our secrets."

You extend an arm, moving to rest it against his side. He'll have to take extra care not to wake you when he eventually has to detangle your limbs from his. The thought of the inevitable digs at him in a way he can't make sense of. Beings of the shadows may constantly work at ebbing away light, but there's an inevitable end to all wear away. You were right to notice his greed.

"Yeah," you mumble, the syllable heavy with drowsiness. For a moment, you're so still and silent Lestat almost convinces himself you've fallen asleep. "Then what are yours?"

His hand smooths circles against your spine. "That I think about stealing you away."

Your mind seems to catch itself on his answer, thoughts dissecting his words with an awareness that defies the docility that takes over when you're half asleep. After a moment, you choose to see humor there, but that isn't enough for you to let it go. "Is it really stealing if I want to go?"

You don't know what you're asking for. You're from a world so separate from his own you cannot even fathom the true implication of your words. His lips part, but before he can respond your breathing evens and your mind empties, finally succumbing to sleep.

----

a/n i really liked writing this so if you have any itwv requests pls feel free to send them to me!! just specify the character and as a general note i usually assume fem!reader but i'm happy to write gn!reader if it's specified in the ask :))

[awrkive]

[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.

you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)

WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)

WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)

NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️

‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE

You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.

Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.

You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.

It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.

When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.

That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.

Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?

You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!

Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.

Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.

"God."

As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.

"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.

Oh my god. You wanted to cry.

You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."

Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.

Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.

You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.

Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.

He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.

Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.

"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"

You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."

He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.

"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.

"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.

Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.

Ugh.

"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.

But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.

You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.

"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.

"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.

You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.

But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.

"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.

Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."

"Hm?"

"Can I suck your dick?"

"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.

"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.

So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.

"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.

"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.

"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.

You shrug. "Yeah, well."

You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.

"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.

"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.

"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.

"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.

"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."

"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.

"So…?"

You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.

"Okay, sure." You shrug.

"Fuck, you're the best."

This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.

You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.

"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.

Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."

You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.

"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.

"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."

You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.

Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.

He stops kissing you.

"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."

Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.

"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.

You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."

"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.

"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."

You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.

But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."

You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.

Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.

Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.

It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.

Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."

You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.

When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.

As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.

What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.

"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.

"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."

He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.

The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.

"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly

"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."

And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.

"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.

"Good girl."

And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.

"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.

"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.

Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.

Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?

"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."

You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.

"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.

And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.

So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.

When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.

"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.

He only let out a non-committal hum.

"Jungkook."

"Yes, baby?"

"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.

"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.

"Thanks, I guess."

Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.

"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."

You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.

Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."

"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."

Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."

"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.

"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."

You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?

"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"

Oh god, your essay. Right.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.

Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."

That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.

"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."

You think you'll start doing it more, too.

all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023

[jobean12-blog]

random hoeing:

Javi P. holding your gaze as he slowly licks the salt off his hand before taking a shot of tequila

Troublemaker

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 633

Summary: After spending one amazing night together you and Javi find yourselves grabbing some quick after work dinner at the same local spot and since you're not one to dance around what you want, you make it very clear you want him.

Author's Note: EVA! eeeeeeee I have been thinking about this image since you sent this into my asks and I LOVE IT! Thank you so much for it! He is so fucking sexy I can't stand it. Just a little drabble to hone in my horniness haha, have the best day! Love and hugs friend! Thanky you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: they clearly have feelings for each other but right now it's just about the fucking haha, shower sex, fingering, a quickie bc Javi's too hot to resist

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

Long fingers slip around the sweaty glass, but your eyes quickly dart back up to his face when you see him lift his other hand, the back of it coated in salt, to his lips.

His dark eyes never leave yours as his tongue slowly slides out of his mouth and over his skin, licking up every grain of salt before he raises the shot glass. He downs it easily, the clear liquid burning down his throat while the muscles contract and relax and the long line of his neck tempts you.

“You make me insane,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, as you take a sip of your drink.

“I think you don’t like how much you like me,” Javi answers back, unable to stop his smile.

You smile back at him. “I need a shower before I head out with the girls tonight…”

His eyes widen slightly and his brows lift.

He holds the door open for you and you step inside, familiar with the layout of his place and head straight for the bathroom.

You strip on the way, then climb into the shower, turning on the water and watching through the glass as he undresses.

He follows you, his eyes closing when you drag your teeth along his jaw. You grab for the soap and lather some in your hands, moving them to his chest and with your eyes on his face, reaching lower, sliding a hand down his cock.

You work your hand over him, slowly squeezing, and then stretching up to kiss his neck. He chases your lips, parting them with his tongue and deepening the kiss, and groaning into your mouth.

His fingers make tiny circles over your nipples, and he presses you into the tile before reaching down between your legs to find you silken and wet.

You pull back from his mouth, letting your head fall back against the wall, eyes closed and mouth soft and open.

Your bodies slide together, and he finds your mouth again, his lips trailing along your jaw and down your neck.

“I’m so close Javi,” you mewl.

His fingers stroke and press but you still his wrist just as your legs begin to shake. “I want to come with you inside me.”

He nods, unable to reply aloud because he’s wound so tight. He rubs your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, catching his breath.

You reach lower, taking him in your hand, and at his sharp hiss, your eyes turn up to his face, taking stock of every detail of his reaction.

The water runs down his face, his dark hair plastered to his forehead and his thick lashes clumped together. It collects above his top lip, and you suck it off, moaning when he lifts your thighs, pulling your legs up and around his waist and then sliding in slowly, inch by inch.

Your fingers move up his neck into his hair and then your lips follow, kissing, biting, and when he pushes in deeper you release these tight, sharp noises straight into his ear.

He knows you’re so close and he pulls back to look at you, your mouth falling open, your pussy clenching tight.

He grips you hard, face now pressed to your neck, fucking you fast and deep. You watch him now, watch him climb, give in, and topple over the edge with a rumbling groan.

With ragged breaths his hands slip along your wet skin and trace your curves. His mouth searches for yours. Everything is soft, drenched in water and he’s still inside you.

You tilt his face in your hands, kissing his jaw and sucking water from his bottom lip, his mustache tickling your soft skin.

“You okay?”

He nods, whispering, “you’re going to wreck me angel.”

[rninies]

✮ only wanna be with you

౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, gn!reader, gojo is so in love w you — wc: 437

notes. small gojo drabble bcs i miss him

date nights with satoru always meant he had something interesting for the two of you. you could never predict what he’s thinking, so once he asks you out on a date, you would agree without asking him what he has planned (usually because he never wants to reply. instead, he just gives you a wink without saying anything else).

it was confusing to choose an outfit when you had no idea what kind of date satoru was bringing you on, so you chose your favorite outfit out of your whole wardrobe. although it was your favorite, you haven’t worn it for a long time so satoru hasn’t had the chance to see you in it.

“y/n, are you done-” satoru stops, seeing how beautiful you look in your outfit. he leans against the doorway, hiding his smile behind his hand. "you look gorgeous. stunning. jaw-dropping. breathtaking. do you see what i'm trying to get at?"

“okay, that was so exaggerated. i do not look that nice.” you mumbled, looking down at your outfit. “does it look weird? should i change into-”

satoru stops you, walking up to you to hold your hand. “no, don’t. you look beautiful, my love. i mean it. i meant every word i just said before. i think i fell in love with you all over again.”

“pft-” you let out a laugh, and satoru frowns. “sorry it’s just- you’re so corny tonight are you okay? did you hit your head anywhere?”

“how dare you!” satoru lets out an exaggerated gasp. “i’m just showing you my love and affection and this is how you treat me? my heart hurts.” he places a hand over his heart, giving you a pout.

“oh don’t be so dramatic, you know i love you.” you poked his nose, giving him a smile. “okay seriously, where are we going tonight? you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“i told you it’s a surprise. it’s not fun if i tell you where we’re going.” satoru winks and you sigh, not pressing any further. “shall we get going, my love? we have a long night ahead of us.”

you lightly slapped his forearm. “don’t make it sound so dirty.”

“whaaaat?” satoru innocently asks. “i’m just asking you if we should go now or not. don’t hit me just because i asked.”

“you know what you were saying. i’m leaving you behind if you don’t stop your little jokes.” you frowned, already making your way out the bedroom door.

“hey-! you can’t leave me behind if you don’t even know where we’re going tonight!” satoru exclaims, running after you.

taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul @iminlovewqr0w (send an ask to be added!) <3