#it will be embarrassing but not unexpected if it flops

[y3sterdaysproblem]

shifting - m.s.

summary: invisalign matt <3

cw: kissing, oral sex, invisalign kink?

wc: 2.7k

loosely inspired by take it or leave it by @plasticferal , mostly inspired by how horny matt with aligners makes me.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The sound of Matt absentmindedly pulling his invisalign tray off of his teeth and then pushing it back on filled the room, and you felt like you were about to explode if he did it again. He wasn’t even aware he was being so loud, his attention focused on whatever was on his phone that he held in front of him. You were both laying in his bed on top of the covers, having finished watching a movie around thirty minutes ago, now just doing your side by side doom scrolling in silence, or what was supposed to be silence.

You turn your head to the left to look at him, a slight look of annoyance on your face as you glare at his side profile. He doesn’t notice, still too caught up in his phone, fingers still toying with the tray in his mouth, clicking the bottom one on and off of the attachments on his molars. That was one of the nice things about Matt and his brothers being in the public eye, the fact that they didn’t have any of their attachments visible on the front of their teeth, leaving their smile otherwise smooth and normal when their trays weren’t in, however the downside was watching them stick their fingers so far in their mouth every time they wanted to take them out. Now was no exception, Matt’s thumb tucked into his mouth as he clicked, and then bit down, and then clicked, and bit down.

“Are your teeth hurting you?” You asked suddenly, breaking the silence between you both. He’s caught off guard when you speak up, turning to face you with a confused look. “What? No, why?” Matt responds in his soft spoken voice, pulling his hand away from his mouth.

“Because you haven’t stopped playing with your fucking trays for the last twenty minutes,” you tell him, flopping your phone on your chest. “I can’t focus on anything.”

“Sorry,” Matt smiles sheepishly, setting his phone down as well. “I’ve had this tray in for a couple weeks and I’m about to switch it out. Doesn’t hurt so… sometimes I just fiddle with it I guess.”

Truthfully, this conversation opened the door to a topic that had always piqued your interest, and maybe you brought it up for more reasons than how annoying the sound of his repetitive actions were. “It doesn’t hurt?” You ask him, looking away from his eyes to look at his mouth. When he notices your gaze shift, he shoots you a large grin to show off all of his almost perfect teeth covered in the clear plastic. “No,” he says, chomping his teeth together a couple times. “When I change it, it’ll hurt for a few days, but I’m used to it.”

You nod, still staring at his mouth as he spoke. “What does it… I dunno.. feel like?” You ask him, meeting his eyes once again. “The outside?” Matt clarifies, and you nod. “Just like plastic. Makes my teeth dull. You wanna feel it?”

You’re a big caught off guard by his offer and you can’t help it when your ears start to heat up, feeling embarrassed that you’d even brought this up in the first place. “Feel your teeth?” You clarified, and he nods at you. You hesitate and he notices, reaching down to grab your hand. “Come on, I won’t bite,” he teases, and your cheeks darken even further as he pulls your hand up to his lips, parting them so you can run your finger over the aligners gently. For some reason, the close contact sent a small shiver down your spine, not used to being this close to Matt.

You realize after almost a minute of running your finger over his teeth that you’ve zoned out and you pull your hand away from him slowly, bringing it back to your own body. “Weird,” is all you can come up with to fill the void, looking back into his bright blue eyes that stared over at you, waiting for your reaction. “Does it affect when you like… kiss girls?” Matt’s eyes widen slightly at your unexpected question, his own cheeks taking a turn at heating up. “I’ve never really kissed anyone with them in,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders shyly. “So I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly, nodding towards him. He mimics your action, feeling a palpable tension settle in his bedroom. He’s got an offer sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite force himself to say it, feeling like he might ruin everything you guys have worked so hard to create in the years that you’ve been friends. You turn your head back towards the ceiling, staring up at it as your mind raced along with your heart, wondering what on earth has got you so intrigued about this interaction. There was always an underlying attraction towards Matt, but ever since he started his treatment, you couldn’t help but find the way he looked with his aligners oddly sexy. The way he laughed or smiled, the way he ran his tongue over his top teeth just to get a feel for them, the way he had a slight lisp any time he spoke; it all made you hyper aware of how attractive Matt really was. You’re not given much time to overthink when Matt clears his throat, grabbing your attention again. “You wanna find out?” He asks you, voice full of faux confidence that you could see right through.

You turn back to face him, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Find what out?” You ask cluelessly.

“You know…” he starts, confidence fading quickly. “How it feels to kiss.”

Oh, you think. That’s what he meant.

You stare at him for a few moments before silently nodding your head, not trusting your voice enough to speak. You genuinely did want to know what it felt like to kiss somebody with invisalign, if it felt any different, but more than that you wanted to know what it felt like to kiss Matt. You’d thought about it more than you care to admit out loud, or even to yourself.

Matt’s initiating the kiss, turning himself on his side to look down at you from where you still lay next to him, eyes staring up at him patiently. “You sure?” He asks quietly, wanting clarification before he crosses the line you both can’t come back from, and once again you shoot him a small nod, and it’s enough for him to lean down and close the distance, lips pressing gently onto yours.

It’s slow and soft the way his mouth moves against yours and the way his hand comes up to rest on your cheek, like he’s afraid of moving too quickly, afraid of shattering the environment. Matt’s heart is hammering in his chest as you kiss, unable to hide his nervousness when your own hand comes up to rest on his neck, pulse racing under your palm, holding him close to you, letting him know to stay exactly where he was.

The kiss was good, amazing even, but it was too tentative and wasn’t giving you what you were looking for, so when Matt’s lips parted for a split second, you took that as your opportunity to slide your tongue between them and press against his, pulling him into you a little bit harder as you both became more desperate, breaths becoming harsher.

His hand slid from your cheek and moved to the bed next to you, using it to hold himself above you as the kiss deepened, the sounds of your lips parting and reattaching and your staggered breathing filling the otherwise quiet room. In a moment of slowed intensity, you let the nagging voice in your head take control, hand coming around Matt’s face to grip at his jaw to hold him in place. Keeping your mouths pressed together, you ran your tongue slowly over his top row of teeth, feeling the dull plastic that he had described, the sensation sending a trail of goosebumps down your arms. You could hear the small, shocked gasp that Matt sucked in as you licked over his teeth, his eyes cracking open to peer down at you once you pulled away, entranced by how pleased you looked.

You opened your own eyes and smiled bashfully back at him, clearing your throat awkwardly. “I don’t… I don’t think I got a good enough feel,” you tell him, gliding your hand back around to the back of his neck, applying a bit of pressure. “No?” Matt asks sweetly with a slight tilt of his head. “Here, maybe this will help.”

His eyes flutter shut again as he dips back down to connect your lips again, rougher this time as you both become more comfortable with each other. Matt only kisses you for a few seconds before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth along it carefully, eliciting a small moan to slip from your throat. He releases your puffy lip and smirks down at you, tucking his face along your jawline as he starts to place small kisses on your skin until he reaches your neck, teeth gently biting at the warm skin. “Matt,” you whine, trying to press up into him more.

His only response is a small hum against you, his mouth kissing further down your neck until he reaches your collarbone, rounded teeth dragging against your skin as he descended. “You wanna know what they feel like, right?” Matt asks, slightly breathless. You nod, tilting your head down to look at him as he grabs the hem of your shirt and shoves it as high as he can, his movements pausing as he stared down at your chest. “Why are you not wearing a bra?”

Your bottom lip pouts out slightly as you watch him stare down at you, his hands moving to slide up your stomach, fingertips pressing into you like he was savoring every inch of skin he could touch. “I wanted to be comfortable,” you tell him, voice whiny. “Fuck,” is all he says before he leans his head back down and wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking harshly so the skin glides between his teeth, his groan sending a vibration through your chest. You’re instantly moaning, hand coming up to rest on the back of his head, your back arching to press your chest into him further.

His mouth felt like velvet around you, tongue working against the hardened nub that was pulled into his mouth, his hand kneading into your breast that wasn’t in his mouth. “Matt,” you whimper again desperately, holding him close while your hips searched for friction from his thigh that he rested between your legs. Matt felt like he was in heaven, face buried in the chest of the woman that he’d craved for so long. He was content just staying like this, sucking on your perfect tits until he died, or until you got sick of him. He could never get sick of this.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” You groaned out. His cock strained against his underwear at your words, feeling lightheaded from the lack of blood rushing to his head. Matt couldn’t believe he was experiencing the honor of having you moan out his name, and he was committed to dragging it out as long as he could.

He pops his lips off of you and drags his tongue over your nipple slowly before he lifts himself up to look down at you. “It’ll feel so much better when I’m eating you out,” he grins, sliding his long, slender fingers down your torso again until they stop at your pants, keeping eye contact with you. You don’t have to be told twice, nodding your head at him to indicate your willingness and he scoots down on the bed and pulls your pants with him, leaving you with your shirt bunched up on your chest and your cute, pink panties covering your already soaked pussy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on you. If I knew all I had to do was wear my invisalign around you I would’ve done it a lot sooner.” Matt’s almost talking to himself while he maneuvers his body between your legs, pushing them apart with his own knees as he settles down, sliding his hands up your thighs greedily. “God, your body is so fucking perfect, wanna worship you so bad. So pretty.”

You’d almost forgotten the origin of this encounter already, having to remind yourself that you were nearly naked in front of your best friend because of his orthodontic treatment, though his words only make you wetter, the mix of his dominance and his praise causing the hair to stand up on your arms. “God, Matt, please don’t be all talk. I need you to make me feel good,” you tell him honestly, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch as he rubbed and squeezed on your thighs, seemingly entranced by the way your body moved under his touch. It looks like it takes a concerning amount of effort for Matt to pull his eyes away from your core and up to your own, a lazy grin forming on his face. “Okay,” he agrees, shifting his knees down so he can lay below you, spreading your legs farther apart.

One of his hands comes up to push your thong to the side, exposing your drooling center, begging to be devoured by him. “Holy fuck,” Matt groans out, wasting no time as he closed the distance, his eyes fluttering shut as your taste flooded his senses. You immediately dropped back down onto your back as his mouth sucked your clit between his lips enthusiastically, being mindful of how sensitive you were when he pressed forward a little more to allow your skin to come into contact with his covered teeth.

Teeth were never a thing for you before, but watching Matt’s get prettier and prettier and seeing the confidence that came along with his new smile, it did something to you, and that something was the same reason you were grinding your hips up into Matt’s face as he ate you out, tongue running over your clit. “Yes, yes, oh my god,” you babbled loudly, fervently. His pace never faltered, even when he brought his fingers up to your entrance and slipped them inside of you.

He was sloppy with the way that he was eating your pussy, though not in a way that felt unsatisfactory, but in the way that had you unsuspecting of each movement and had your eyes rolling back in your head. Matt’s fingers worked inside you leisurely as his tongue and lips stimulated your swollen clit, bringing you towards your peak faster than anyone had before. “Oh my god, Matt, I’m so close. Please don’t stop,” you beg, hand pressing him down into you as your hips rolled with the movements of his fingers, feeling your thighs start to shake on either side of his head.

Matt hummed against you, ripping a cry from your throat as your orgasm slammed into you, your body trembling with aftershocks as his mouth didn’t let up. “Matt,” you whine, grabbing his forehead and applying a bit of pressure until he pulled off with his own groan of disapproval. He moved his head over to the crease of your thigh, letting his teeth dig into you slightly, the sensation obviously feeling more dull than you’re used to, but you also felt way more into it at the thought of the reason why. He happily sucked a small mark into your skin the best he could with his aligners, pulling away after a few moments to admire it before he turned his attention.

Matt felt like he was kicked in the chest for a second as he laid eyes on you, your red cheeks and tired grin causing his heart to stop momentarily. “I’m, uh.. never taking these out ever again when you’re around, I hope you know that.” He tells you.

You’re laughing at his comment, but you couldn’t help but hope he was telling the truth. “As long as we get to do this again, that’s fine.”

a/n: nice and short! sorry if it’s boring it’s not my favorite thing I e ever written but invisalign matt is my origin story.

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @rafesapprentice @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44 @ariestrxsh

[lovelivision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

“Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.”

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[evie-sturns]

mornings - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when your best friend matt sleeps over for the night, the last thing you expected was him waking up with a boner the next morning.

contains: nsfw, sub!matt, handjob, fluff, bestfriend!matt.

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

10:32am

i stir in bed with a small groggy groan, wiping my eyes as i come to conciouseness.

my best friend matt had slept over last night, hes now lying next to me in bed, wearing a pink baby tee, and some pyjama pants.

i roll over in bed, my leg brushing against his. my hand flops lazily onto matts thigh.

a sharp gasp from matt fills the room. followed by frantic shuffling.

i slowly open my eyes, to see matt.

his pants are at his mid thighs, his shirt is bunched up around his small waist and his hand is wrapped firmly around his cock.

my eyes widen instantly, i sit up on my elbows as my jaw goes slack.

"matt!?" i exclaim,

he frantically tugs up his pyjama pants, a grimace on his face.

his cheeks are now a deep red as he lets out a small whine of embarrasment.

he's still visibly hard through the thin fabric of his pyjama pants after being interrupted...

"i am- so sorry-" matt coughs out,

he palms his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

"its- its okay." i breathe,

"that is so embarrassing i swear to goddd.." matt groans,

i laugh slightly, "definitely unexpected." i smile.

matt covers his face with his hands, silence filling the rooom.

"you should finish the job." i blurt out, breaking the silence.

matt drops his hands from his face, his eyebrows raised. "what?"

i sit up on the bed, matt sits up against the headboard, watching my every move.

i trace my fingers over his waistband, "you're still hard, it hurts doesnt it?"

matt nods shyly, his hands shaking slightly.

i dont even know what i'm doing at this point, i guess after seeing him so exposed, i want to see him do more... so bad to the point my desperation is just taking over my normal thoughts.

my hand slides down the fabric of his pyjama pants, just above the large tent in his pants.

"please?-" matt breathes, his eyebrows knit together.

his pale cheeks are a deep hue of pink, small beads of sweat start to form on his harline.

"please what?" i question teasingly.

"please touch me." matt chokes out, his eyes fixed on my hand.

"tell me what you want me to do to you." i tell him,

matt starts to speak, but i cut him off.

"look at me when you speak matt."

he nods, swallowing harshly before looking over at me nervously.

"i need you- i need you to touch me." matt says, his eyes fixed on mine.

i grin, nodding slightly.

i tug down his pyjama pants back down to his mid thighs, his erection springing out instantly.

"why didnt you tell me you were so big?" i whisper, staring into matts eyes.

i hold my palm up to matts chin,

"spit."

matts eyebrows furrow, "what-! what?"

"you heard me, spit." i repeat myself.

"thats disgus!-" matt starts, but i cut him off.

"i guess i wont touch you then, because that would be even more disgusting wouldnt it."

matt looks up at me with puppy eyes, before spitting into the palm of my hand.

"good boy" i whisper.

i gently take his length into my palm, a sharp gasp escapes his red lips.

i squeeze the base of his cock lightly,

"oh my god!" matt squeaks, his brown hair flopping down infront of his eyes.

matts wraps his hand around my own, urging me to go faster.

i move his hand off of mine, placing it by his side.

“i need to- please just do it.” matt rambles on,

i slowly start to stroke his length,

“oh-“ he gasps, matt keeps eye contact with me the whole time through his half shut eyes.

his brown hair sticks to his pale forehead, and the muscles in his lower stomach tense.

i run my thumb over the slit on his tip, he sucks in a sharp breath, his veiny hands gripping the sheets harder.

“you’re doing so well for me.” i praise matt, continuing to run my hand up and down his dick, i squeeze him harder as i go higher up.

“thank- thank you-“ he squeezes out breathlessly.

"yeah?" i smirk,

i run my nails over his lower tummy, gently lifting his pink shirt up his torso to reveal his stomach more, mainly so he doesn't make a mess of his shirt when he cums.

"im so close y/n-!" matt whimpers,

he bucks his hips up into my hand, a loud whine escaping his pouty lips.

"let go matt, 'm right here." i say softly,

matt squeezes his eyes shut, a guttural moan escaping his mouth.

he finally releases,

spurts of white hit his lower stomach and just the bottom of his shirt,

i continue to slowly pump him through his orgasm as he rides it out,

matts hands let go of the bedsheets, his face completely flushed and his leg shaking slightly.

suddenly it hits me.

this is my bestfriend, that ive just made cum. he probably wasn't even fully thinking he was just horny and-

my thoughts get cut off by matts croaky voice,

"that was- so 'fuckin hot." he mumbles groggily,

"that was normal right? like friends do that all the time for eachother-?" i ramble nervously, anxious that ive crossed a boundry,

"yeah- totally normal." matt instantly replies, not sounding too sure of himself.

"yeah.." i respond,

"even if its not a 'normal' thing for friends to do, can we make it normal? 'cause i dont think i've came that hard in years."

-------

THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR 7K THATS INSANITY!! hope you liked this one!!

@downbad4reid

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[jamminvroomvroom]

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

-

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

-

oh i’m soft

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟸𝚔 || 𝐌𝐑. 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐘

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You were successful at keeping Mr. Flopsy a secret from your boyfriends...until now.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None except loads of fluff

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

You were a master of secrets. Keeping your relationship with the Marauders on the down low? Piece of cake. Sneaking into the boys' dorm after hours for late-night cuddles? Easy. But the real secret, the one that kept you on your toes every single night, was far fluffier—and far more embarrassing.

Your beloved stuffed animal.

It was a worn-out, floppy bunny you’d had since you were a kid. Its fur was matted from years of love, its ears uneven from countless bedtime adventures. You still slept with it every night, clutching it tight like a lifeline. Of course, there was no way you'd ever let your boyfriends know. They'd tease you mercilessly. Sirius, especially, with his "I’m-too-cool-for-everything" swagger, would have a field day.

You were certain you’d done an excellent job hiding your bunny… until tonight.

You all had decided to hang out at your dorm tonight and your heart picked up it's pace whenever any of them got close to the bed.

It was just your luck, then, that Peter was rummaging around on the floor, searching for a Chocolate Frog he swore he’d dropped earlier. “Where is it?” he muttered, crawling dangerously close to your bed.

You eyed him nervously, feeling your heart rate pick up.

"Maybe the frog decided to leave because it didn’t want to be eaten,” Sirius drawled from across the room, flicking the Quaffle up again.

"Very funny," Peter muttered, but then he froze. His eyes narrowed, focusing on something just under your bed. Slowly, he reached out and pulled at something soft.

Your heart dropped.

Peter tugged harder, and then—there it was, dangling by its floppy ear in his hand—your bunny. Your beloved, secret stuffed animal.

"Er…what’s this?” Peter asked, blinking at the well-worn toy. “I didn’t know we had a sixth member of the group?”

James whipped around, his hair now messier from his mirror battle, eyes wide. “Is that a stuffed bunny?”

Sirius burst out laughing, rolling off your roommate’s bed in a dramatic heap, holding his stomach. “Please tell me that’s not yours, love. Please.”

Remus looked up from his book, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Well, this is a new revelation.”

You flushed furiously and snatched the bunny from Peter’s hand. "I-it's not what it looks like!" you stammered, clutching the toy to your chest.

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” James smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our very own tough, cool Y/N still sleeps with a stuffed animal."

Sirius was laughing so hard he was practically wheezing by now. “A bunny no less! Oh, this is rich.”

You glared at him, trying to defend yourself. “It’s… it’s for comfort!”

James, now fully in on the teasing, nudged you playfully. “We should’ve known. You’re a secret softie.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

Peter was still looking at the bunny like it was some rare magical creature. "I’ve got to admit, I didn’t see this coming.”

Before you could snap back, James swooped in, holding the bunny up again. “What’s its name?” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You groaned. “It doesn’t have a name.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius said, finally catching his breath. “Everything has a name.”

"Yeah, like James’ hair gel,” Remus added, smirking.

James shot him a look, but Peter nodded, still curious. “Does it have a backstory?”

You groan, face burning. “I… it’s just—fine. His name is Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

There was a split second of silence before chaos erupted.

“Mr. Flopsy?” Sirius howled, flopping back onto the floor dramatically. James, meanwhile, had lost the ability to stand and was now clinging to the bedpost for support.

“Merlin’s beard, darling,” James choked out between fits of laughter. “That’s…that’s adorable, and so unexpected!”

Remus, though, just gave you a soft smile, clearly more charmed than he wanted to admit. “It’s not that embarrassing,” he said, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him.

You sighed heavily, knowing there was no way out of this one. “Fine, yes, I still sleep with Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

Sirius crawled up onto your bed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Absolutely. But, darling, now that we know about Mr. Flopsy, you’re going to have to share.”

You glared at him. “What?”

“Oh, yeah,” James said, now fully recovered from his laughing fit. “I think Mr. Flopsy is part of the group now. We’ll have joint custody.”

Peter nodded seriously. “I get him on Thursdays.”

“Fridays are mine!” James declared, smirking.

Remus chuckled and shook his head, still watching you fondly. “This is going to be the softest thing in this dorm, and I’m including you lot.”

Sirius grinned and pulled you into a side hug. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll take very good care of Mr. Flopsy. And of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself, rolling your eyes at them. “Fine. But if you rip him, there will be consequences.”

They all nodded with mock-seriousness, Peter saluting you. “Mr. Flopsy will be protected at all costs.”

And just like that, Mr. Flopsy became the official mascot of the Marauders.

[sxmmerberries]

DRUNK DAZED - park sunghoon x reader

✦ genre: romance

✦ pairing: park sunghoon as your roommate who you have a crush on

✦ word count: 1, 426

✦ warning: suggestive and mentions of drinking

✦ summary: taking care of your drunk roommate turned into something else

You paused your kdrama as you heard the doorbell ring late at night. You frowned, wondering who could be at the door this late at night, turning the TV off before getting up from the couch.

You walked to the door and opened the door cautiously just to see Jake, Sunghoon's best friend, with a very drunk looking Sunghoon clinging onto him.

"Hey Jake," You greeted, noticing the unsteady state of Sunghoon. You took in his flushed state as he could barely stand without Jake supporting him.

"We had a bit too much to drink and Sunghoon...well, he's pretty out of it so I came to drop this guy off,” Jake smiled, gripping onto Sunghoon's waist, trying to keep him upright.

"I can see that,” You chuckled lightly and stepped forward to help support Sunghoon, who was swaying a bit on his feet. "Here, let me take him to his room. Thanks for bringing him back, Jake.” Jake nodded, a bit relieved.

"No problem," he said, "I just hope he doesn't cause too much trouble." You smiled as you led Sunghoon to his room as he stumbled.

You were used to taking care of your roommates when they were drunk, but there was something about taking care of Sunghoon that felt a bit different.

Once you guys reached his room, you gently eased him onto his bed. He immediately flopped backwards, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed expression on his face.

You stood there for a moment, taking in his dishevelled appearance and the way his eyes, usually so reserved and shy, were now clouded with the effects of alcohol.

"You really went overboard with it tonight, huh?," You said, a hint of amusement in your voice, ruffling his hair a bit.

Sunghoon let out a lazy grumble, not quite able to form words. He closed his eyes for a moment, and you took the opportunity to brush the hair out of his face. You couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked, even in his current dishevelled state.

You held out a glass of water, hoping it would help sober him up a bit. "Here, drink some water," you helped him sit up gently. But instead of taking the glass, he just stared at you, his gaze a bit dazed. He took the glass from your hand and placed it on the nightstand and suddenly reached out, his hand finding its way around your waist.

With a swift movement, he pulled you onto his lap. You were caught off guard by the sudden movement, your breath hitching as you found yourself straddling him on the bed. His grip on your waist was firm, and you could feel the warmth of his chest against you.

"S-Sunghoon," You stammered, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. "What are you doing?”

He looked up at you, his gaze slightly less hazy than before. He was still quite groggy, but there was a hint of awareness in his eyes now, and what seemed like a sly smile appeared on his face. You were caught off guard by the unexpected action, your face heating up in response.

You had never seen him act this way as he was always shy and reserved, so now you were shocked at how comfortable he seemed to be with you. His smile widened, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you realized that you were in a very compromising position. This dude was drunk and clearly had other plans than to sleep it off.

Your mind raced, trying to process what was happening. You were always attracted to Sunghoon, but never in a million years did you expect him to be this forward, especially in his current state.

His hand moved to cup your chin, gently tilting your face upwards, to meet his gaze. "You're so pretty," he mumbled, the words slurring slightly as they left his lips. He gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb.

"You're drunk," You managed to say, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to stop freaking out internally.

"Maybe," he admitted, "But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate your beauty, right?,” You felt like your heart was gonna break out of your ribcage as it was beating so fast.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. You looked around to find something to divert his attention when you saw that glass of water.

"You should really drink the water," You offered, trying to get out of his lap, but he tightened his grip around your waist. You had never seen this side of him before.

"Later," he mumbled, his focus solely on you. His eyes flickered down to your lips,"I'd rather have you right now.”

He closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against yours teasingly. Your mind went blank, all thoughts dissolving as he grabbed your cheeks, and the kiss deepened. His hands roamed over your back and waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you two. His tongue traced your bottom lip, seeking entry. He took advantage of your parted lips, gently pushing his tongue into your mouth, his tongue exploring more.

“You taste even better than I imagined," He murmured as he pulled away, his fingers tracing your lips with his finger as your brain tried to process what just happened.

“He imagined what I might taste like?,” You thought, your brain almost short circuiting and your body still on fire due to the heat of the moment.

You had given away your very first kiss to your very drunk roommate who would probably regret everything in the morning and move to a different planet just so he doesn't have to face you.

You were brought out of your stance as you felt Sunghoon bury his head in the crook of your neck, placing light kisses on the skin.

You were so torn between the thrill of the moment and the guilt that was starting to surface. You knew you shouldn't be doing this, not when he was drunk and was making decisions he might regret. But the way he was looking at you, you couldn't bring yourself to push him off.

"Sunghoon, We shouldn't... you're drunk," You whispered, with a hesitant tone.

"I'm not that drunk," He murmured, pulling away from your neck and placing a small peck on your lips.

“You'll regret this in the morning,” You brushed his hair out of his face.

“I won't…please let me have you…,” He tugged on the hem of your shirt, wanting it off, looking at you for permission.

“It'll be like taking advantage of you...I can't do that,” You pushed his hand away.

"Please... you're not taking advantage of me... I'm perfectly in my senses.. I know exactly what I'm doing and I want you. I wanted to do this for so long,” Your eyes widened in shock upon hearing his words as you immediately got off of his lap, your cheeks flushing as red as a tomato.

“No, you're not.You should go to sleep,” You mumbled as he smiled lazily, looking at your flustered reaction, reaching out to grab your wrist again.

“No no no no, you're going to bed,” You said, gently pushing him back on the bed so he would lie down.

“Oh, come on now,” He pulled you closer to him, grabbing your wrist as you hovered over him, staring at his perfect face.

You stared at him for a bit before your eyes fell on his plush looking lips. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath hit your skin. He rejoiced internally as he watched you stare at him.

“He is drunk,” You thought as you looked at his flushed state before removing his hand from your wrist and pulling the blanket over him, making him sulk in disappointment.

"But I don't want to go to bed... I want you,” He was almost on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

You gave him one last peck on his forehead before tucking him in like you planned before and quickly leaving the room, much to his disappointment.

He groaned softly, tossing and turning in his bed, trying to force himself to sleep, but the memory of your kiss still lingered in his mind. He stared at the door, frustrated that he couldn't have more, and resigned himself to a long, restless night.

©sxmmerberries

More enha fics

networks: @kstrucknet @k-films @starlit-network

[azzifuddfanpage]

I think for a name you could maybe do like “Unexpected”

but also, did she ever give azzi her legos😭😭

do you think you could write a cute fic of that and they have a lil Lego building session like they did that one live

Spaceship of Promises

—————— Hiii this is for all the fluff requests!

also thank you to @ldapper for the amazing editing like insane 🫶

Tw: none just fluff!

—————— Azzi!” Paige shouted from across the living room of the team’s suite, her voice cutting through the quiet.

No response.

“Azzi!” She yelled louder this time.

Finally, she could hear one of the suite doors swing open, followed by the soft patter of footsteps—certainly those of a 5 '11, curly-haired brunette. Sure enough, Azzi appeared a moment later

She was wearing a pink button-up pajama shirt and shorts covered in Stewie’s face, fluffy pink slippers, and her curls spilling out of a messy bun. Paige’s gaze and breath lingered for a moment as the top button of Azzi’s shirt hung open, revealing the soft skin of her clavicle.

“Yanna’s sleeping you’re gonna wake her up. What do you want?” Azzi teased, coming to sit on the couch behind Paige. She ran her fingers through her hair gently.

The blonde was on the floor, hunched over the coffee table, which was covered in a sea of tiny Legos. Paige leaned her head against Azzi and pouted. “Help me,” she whined, leaning back down to try and assemble another piece. 

Azzi chuckled as she sank down beside Paige, watching her with amusement. Her tongue poked out slightly in concentration as she matched the pieces to the image on the box.

“I swear to god, I’ve built this thing three times and it still don’t look right,” Paige sighed, tearing apart the pieces she had just assembled. 

“Okay, well where are the instructions?” Azzi asked, grabbing the box and shaking it. When nothing fell out, she raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Don't tell me you were planning on free-handing this,” she laughed, playfully shoving her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Paige shrugged, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. “I could have figured it out eventually.” 

Azzi rolled her eyes, standing up and stretching. Her shirt rode up a little, showing off her toned stomach. “Paige, come on. What did you do with the instructions?” 

“I threw them away. Don’t need ‘em,” Paige said confidently. 

Azzi just sighed and walked over to the trash can, pulling the crumpled paper out from the top. As she sat back down, she slid on her glasses, sorting through the instructions to find the right step.

“Okay, so this piece goes… here,” she muttered, holding up a tiny brick.

Next to her, Paige had flopped down on her stomach, propping her chin on her hand while the other rummaged through the pile of Legos. “Are you sure this one goes next? I swear it looks like we need the other… thingy,” she said, gesturing vaguely.

Azzi glanced at her with mock disbelief. “Thingy? You mean the corner tile? We’re following the instructions, Paige. No improvising. No wonder you haven’t gotten anywhere.”

Paige grinned mischievously and held up a bright pink Lego piece. “But wouldn’t it be cute if our spaceship had a ‘lil pop of pink here?”

Azzi sighed dramatically but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” Paige teased, nudging Azzi’s shoulder with her own.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azzi replied softly, her voice almost wistful. “But you asked for my help,” she said sternly. “So if we’re doing this , it has to be right.” She wagged a finger in Paige’s face.

Paige sat up and shoved it away. “Whatever,” she laughed. But she grabbed the instructions anyway and began sorting through the pile to find the correct piece. 

An hour later, Paige leaned back against the couch, admiring their progress. “You know, we’re actually pretty good at this.”

Paige smirked, holding up another pink piece and slipping it onto the spaceship in the almost absurd place.

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “We? You would’ve still been stuck if I hadn’t pulled the instructions out of the trash,” she said, pushing Paige’s hand away and snapping the piece into its correct spot.

The coffee table was a chaotic scene’’Legos scattered across the rug, some kicked under the couch, and a few tucked away in Paige’s sweatshirt pocket (“for safekeeping,” she insisted).

Azzi leaned over to grab another brick when she felt a soft weight settle against her shoulder. Paige had flopped sideways, resting her head on Azzi with a contented sigh.

“Hey,” Azzi said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. “You’re slowing down the whole process. I know damn well you didn’t ask me to come help you while you just nap.” 

Paige smiled lazily. “The spaceship can wait five minutes. You’re warm.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but a tiny blush crept across her cheeks. She nudged Paige’s head with her shoulder. “If you’re not gonna help, I’m gonna put you on sorting duty.” 

Paige gasped, dramatically sitting up and grabbing at her chest.  “Sorting duty? That's all I’m good for? C’mon, you love when I’m unpredictable.”

“You mean unhelpful?” Azzi teased, her lips curving into a smirk.

“I am helpful,” Paige shot back, grabbing a handful of pieces and sorting them into neat piles to prove a point. “I could totally do this if I wanted to.”

“Oh, yeah?” Azzi challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Then what piece comes next, Miss Helpful?”

Paige squinted at the instructions as if it were written in a foreign language. “Uh… this one?” She held up a long white piece.

Azzi snorted. “That’s for the cockpit. We’re building the engine, Paige.” 

Paige groaned dramatically, falling back onto the rug. “I genuinely don’t understand why it matters they all look the same.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away. Instead she grabbed the white piece paige had held up and gently placed it on the table in front of her. 

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “We’ll put a little pink in the cockpit. Just for you.”

Paige sat up, her eyes lighting up. “You’re giving in to my creative vision?”

Azzi shook her head, smiling. “No, I’m compromising. There’s a difference.”

Paige leaned in, so close that Azzi could feel her warm breath. “It’s because you love me,” Paige said with a smirk. 

Azzi felt her cheeks heat up, but she met Paige’s gaze. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice quieter. “I do.”

For a second, the spaceship was forgotten as Paige kissed her. Their lips melted together in something that felt simple but meaningful. When they pulled apart, Paige rested her forehead against Azzi’s. 

“Even if I don’t wanna use the instructions?” Paige whispered, a teasing.

“Even then,” Azzi said with a laugh. “But only because you’re cute.”

The moment lingered, warm and quiet, until Paige pulled away, grinning mischievously. “Good thing. I may or may not have hidden another pink piece in the engine already.”

Azzi gasped, feigning betrayal. “Paige!”

Paige scrambled to her feet, laughing as Azzi lunged at her. “It was for the aesthetic, trust!” she cried, dodging around the coffee table.

“You didn’t even want my help. You just wanted to annoy me!” Azzi called after her, though she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.

They ended up in a tangled heap on the couch, Paige’s arms wrapped around Azzi’s waist as they both dissolved into giggles.

“Okay,” Azzi said, catching her breath. “Truce. You can keep the pink engine piece. But no more sabotage.”

Paige gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. No more sabotage.” Then, with a devilish grin, she added, “Unless it’s really funny.”

Azzi shook her head but snuggled into Paige’s side, her head resting on her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, the silence of the night settling around them.

Finally, Paige nudged the half-built spaceship with her toe. “I think we built something pretty cool,” she said softly. 

When there was no response, she leaned back, peering down at Azzi’s face. Her eyes were closed and her breathing had evened out.

Paige smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face before kissing her forehead softly.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re tired. Despite your blips into the void, you’re less than rested. You sit back from the table and leave the pencil in the crease of the ledger. You stretch your fingers and yawn. You let your eyes closer and your head wobbles. 

“Sleepy?” Rogers intones. 

You lurch in the chair and glance at him. You don’t remember him returning. He went off to ‘chat with Thor’ but you must’ve been too swept up in the numbers to notice. You nod and fix your posture. 

“A little,” you confess. 

“It’s late,” he stretches his arms as he speaks then rolls his shoulders. “Should probably tuck in soon. You got a lot of work tomorrow. Me too.” 

“Mm, right,” you hum flatly. 

You’re trapped in the tenuous stalemate. Since his confrontation, you’ve been reticent. That’s safest. You still can’t figure out what you did to rile him but you hardly want to do it again. A man like Rogers is not the type you want to goad. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t even be here. Again, that’s just another reminder of his power. You’re here because he says you need to be. 

“I bought you stuff to sleep in,” he goes around the bed and grabs his own bag, flopping it up on the mattress.  

“Oh, thanks, uh,” you slowly close the ledger and stare at the bed.  

Your eyes drift over to the chaise. It’s wide enough for you. It even looks comfy. You get up and approach it, peering into the top of the shopping bags. That looks like pajamas? 

He grunts and draws your attentions again. As he unbuttons his shirt, your eyes widen and your heart spark. Oops! You grab a bag and flee for the bathroom behind him. He doesn’t flinch as you pass by. 

You shut the door and drop the bag. This is going to be so weird. And you thought the hotel room was bad. Him in the bed in just his towel and then you falling out of the shower. It’s a deranged slapstick but you’re the main joke. 

You push open the mouth of the bag and pull out the silk top. The dusty rose fabric is trimmed with black lace. You blink dumbly as you examine the thin straps and fish out the matching bottoms. Okay, are these supposed to be pajamas? 

You search the rest of the bag. It’s much of the same but in various colours. You’re better off sleeping in what you have on. Still, you are entirely unprepared another argument. Just the memory of his chasing you around that room has you jittery. 

You change, reluctantly. How are you supposed to stay warm? You hate being cold. Especially when you’re trying to sleep. You swear, he’s torturing you. For you, he reserved his more sinister practice, you almost envy the man he stomped on the street. At least that was quick. 

You crack open the door and peek out. Rogers lays in bed, one arm bent behind his head, his other hand on his phone as he holds it over his muscled torso. He has no shame as he reclines with his upper half entirely bare. You suppose he has no reason to be embarrassed but you very much do. 

You steel yourself and emerge. You tear your eyes from him and don’t look back. You circle around the bed with one focus in mind. You snatch the pillow from the other side but find it caught on something. Rogers clears your throat and you look up as he stares back. He clings to the corner of the pillow. 

“Whatcha doin’?” He asks coyly. 

You gulp, “oh, I was gonna make up the chaise--” 

“Why?” He prompts. 

“Well, er, I thought--” 

“Bed’s big enough,” he shrugs and yanks, putting the pillow back down. “Unless you think I smell or something.” 

“Oh, no sir, no,” you argue and fold your hands in front of you. The silk brushes your chest and you’re overly aware of how your nipples poke into the cool fabric. “Um...you didn’t happen to grab any sets with pants? My legs are cold.” 

“I dunno. The lady picked it all,” he swipes up his phone again. “Looks like it fits. If you’re cold, get under the blankets.” 

“Right, that’s... smart,” you agree and climb onto the bed. You do just as he says and hide under the blankets. You put your back to him and nestle in. Your body relaxes into the cushy mattress and you yawn again. It’s no big deal. You’re just going to sleep. 

Your head swirls with exhaustion. It doesn’t take much more than a few deep breaths to doze off. You’re grateful for the quick relief. Your body and mind is so addled that the blank void is much preferable. 

You wake to darkness. The kind that blurs like static in your vision. There’s a steady rhythm at your back. Rogers snores lowly between deep breaths. His warmth radiates beneath the blankets and clouds around your legs. 

You peek back at his fuzzy figure. It’s the only time you’ve ever seen him anything less than terrifying, even though you can’t really see him. You move carefully and slide out from under the covers. You tiptoe around to the bathroom and ease the door into the frame. 

You quickly relieve yourself and wash your hands. As you come back out, the snoring continues, assuring you of your successful mission. You climb back into bed and once more roll onto your side. As you pull the blankets up, there’s a dip in the tempo. 

Rogers’ snores fade and catch in his throat. The bed jostles with his movement as he grumbles. You squeak as his arm snakes over you and his heat blazes around your body. He tucks his hand under your waist and nuzzles your hair, puffing hotly into your scalp. 

His arm is like a vice. You can’t dislodge it as you wriggle helplessly. His snores rise again to assure you of oblivion. You clasp onto his wrist but you’re much too weak to fight him. You knew that already but now you feel it completely. 

As you writhe, you let out another high-pitched gasp. What’s that? The bulge flush to your rear has you paralysed as the realisation slowly sinks in. Oh. He’s only human after all, even if to you, he seems immortal. 

You blanch and blink into the dark. The silk isn’t much of a barrier and his own pajama bottoms don’t offer much else. What do you do? You can’t let him wake up like this? You can’t let him know that you felt him. 

Yet if you wake him up by wrench him off of you, that would give it all away. Well, you guess this is your life now. You’re stuck. Trapped with this enigmatic man and his unyielding demands. Even in his sleep, he’s managed to impose his will on you. 

[alphajocklover]

My and my 2 straight friends are doing a watch party for the spooky season. We try to find some movies generally unheard of, doesn't mean they are always good tho. I wondered if you had any idea to spice up 3 gamer's night, and maybe more. And I think this is deserving of a trick.

So, I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that, unless something changes soon, no one is going to go to your watch party. You and your two friends you planned it with, Liam and Tyler, are the only three who show up, and the party will be a complete flop. It’s not as bad as it sounds though. You three have a great night, watching bad movies, playing video games, making inside jokes and eating junk food and candy. It was a little embarrassing that no one else came, but all in all it wasn’t a bad night.

The good news is that it’s not too late. Your night doesn’t have to be just ‘not a bad night.’ You asked for something to spice up the night, and I’m going to give it to you. 

I did a little research into you and your friends before I sent this out. No offense, but you guys are kind of movie snobs. It’s not unexpected that you’re intense about movies, given that you’re all film students, it’s just that you take it a bit too far. You guys don’t mean to, but you tend to pick apart and criticize movies people like until you take all the fun out of it, only to then rave about bad movies because to you they were so bad it was hilarious. That's the main reason everyone skipped out on your watch party, because they knew you’d pick unusual, and sometimes bad, movies. So the best way to fix your problem? If your movie choices are driving people away, put on something else! I know it sounds awful to you. Putting on something else to bring people in means putting on some dumb, overplayed mainstream movie you’d have to suffer through the entire night. Watching some overhyped dumb cash grab just to make your watch part more popular doesn’t just sound shallow, it sounds unbearable. But you’re going to have to trust me on this. This movie isn’t popular, it’s not that good, and it will change your life. ‘Brad, Chad, and Vlad’ Isn’t a movie most people have heard of. No one in your school's film department will probably have heard anything about it. It’s an 80’s Halloween comedy about two frat boys, Brad and Chad, who accidentally awaken a vampire, Vlad, and end up getting into a bunch of college shenanigans with the ancient bloodsucker. There’s even a classic 80’s makeover scene where the vampire gets a frat boy makeover. As you, Liam and Tyler watch the movie, just to check it out before the party, you can help but laugh at how cheesy the whole thing is! It’s like if a frat boy tried to make a scary movie, and somehow hit comedy gold. As the movie continues, you start to find some of this stuff… honestly funny. The part where Vlad uses his powers to scare a bunch of nerds made you and your friends laugh loudly, and the storyline about Brad and Chad almost getting kicked off the football team was strangely… relatable? You actually felt for the two dumb jocks, and cheered as they beat the nerdy chemistry club slash dark magic cult and freed Vlad from his curse. As the three friends, now all able to be together in the sunlight, flex their muscles cockily for their sorority girl love interest, you and your bros Lee and Ty couldn’t help but flex too, celebrating the movie's end with your solid meaty muscles shining in the light of the TV.

You and your best bros had fucking loved the movie, and you knew the rest of the frat would love to see it. You had found the perfect movie for the party, which was great considering the 3 of you knew nothing about movies. The three bisexual sports majors barely knew how to take a good enough video for their shared OnlyFans. Not that it mattered. People didn’t pay to watch you three fuck for the camera quality.

[thir10th]

Stepping in - October writing challenge day 5

summary: Emily Prentiss is full of secrets, even when you think you have the key to all of them, she still manages to surprise you. tw: idek why i bother adding these anymore, but anyway, just a pit suggestive towards the end a/n: this one’s a bit shorter, sorry for that. I also might take a break from this if this one flops too. If you want me to keep writing then remember any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated!

"Honey! I'm home" you sing-sang entering through the door of her apartment. Emily doesn't answer, just like she hadn't answered the bell that you pressed before using the key she had given you to enter yourself.

"Emily! I got takeout, and a piece of cake for dessert." You try again, still no answer

"I was gonna bring wine, but I thought you would have better choices than whatever i could come up with, anyway" you try again, still no answer.

Leaving the bags on the kitchen table, you say hello to Sergio, who welcomes you by wrapping himself around your legs "Hey bud, where's your mom?" you ask him, scratching his head.

Still nothing, of course Sergio hadn't answered, not even meowed, so you walk around trying to find your girlfriend, wondering if she had gone out.

On your way through the hall, you notice the muffled sound of water running, and you follow it to the bathroom to finally find your girlfriend in the shower.

However, it's the other sound that surprises you, along with the shower, you can hear Emily's voice, and she is singing to herself, her voice soft and sweet, but she's fully into it, unaware that you have entered the apartment, and that you're listening.

You lean against the bathroom door, grinning at the soft and melodic sound of your girlfriends voice. You can't help but to feel a bit guilty about taking a peak like that, but you can't really help it, you had never heard Emily sing.

“Oh wow, so this is where you’ve been hiding your secret talent.” you finally say.

Emily's singing abruptly stops when she finally hears you “What the—?! You were eavesdropping?” she says startled by your sudden intrusion.

You laugh, opening the door just a crack “Eavesdropping? No, just appreciating the unexpected concert. You have a beautiful voice, you know.”

She mocks groaning, but you can hear her laughing “Ugh, no way. It’s terrible. Now I’m embarrassed.”

“Well, now that you’ve been caught, you might as well finish the song. You can’t leave your audience hanging.” You tease her.

“Oh, you want a private performance, huh?” Emily says playfully.

You lean against the doorframe. “I mean, I wouldn't say no.”

"Hey and by the way, what are you doing here, sneaking around? Thought I locked the door.” She says, trying to change the subject.

You smirk as you take a step inside the bathroom “I have a key, remember? Thought I’d surprise you with some takeout, but you’re the one full of surprises, I mean, how could i not know you sang in the shower baby?” You still can't shake your excitement of your new discovery away.

“Okay, maybe I do sing sometimes… when I think I’m alone. But you can’t tell anyone.” She says, peaking out from behind the shower screen with a grin.

“Your secret’s safe with me, as long as I get an encore.” you tease, crossing your arms.

“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret giving you a key?” she says mocking an exasperated sigh.

You step closer “You love it and you know it.”

“You’re right. I do.” her voice lowers playfully “And I love it even more when you show up like this, without warning.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tild your head, amused.

“Yeah. You know… we still have time before dinner. Why don’t you get in here with me?” Her tone turns suggestive, her hand reaching out to you.

You raise an eyebrow, pretending to sound hesitant “Hmm, I don’t know… I mean, I came all the way here for you to sing to me, not the other way around.”

Emily laughs and shakes her head, tugging you gently closer “Trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.” her voice drops even lower “Now get in here before I drag you in myself.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” you grin, leaning into her touch.

She is already eager, her hands slipping to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up “Let me help you with that.” her hands move quickly, gently, undressing you with a soft urgency.

You laugh softly as she pulls your shirt off “Wow, you’re not wasting any time, huh?”

Emily grinning as she continues undressing you, her voice soft but teasing “Nope. I’ve got you here now, and I’m not letting you get away that easily.”

You step into the shower with her, the warm water cascading over both of you “I guess I should interrupt your shower more often.”

Emily wraps her arms around you, pulling you in closer “You should. But next time, maybe warn me. Or don’t… I kind of like being caught off guard.”

“Good to know.” you say, smiling against her lips.

Emily kisses you back eagerly, her hands exploring your skin under the water “Now… where were we?”

The warm water streams down as Emily pulls you closer, her arms wrapping securely around your waist, her lips barely leaving yours. She finally breaks the kiss, leaning back just enough to look into your eyes, her hands resting on your hips.

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice soft and filled with affection, “you walking into my apartment like it’s yours… it drives me crazy. In the best way.”

You smile, brushing a strand of wet hair away from her face. “I mean, it kinda feels like home now.”

Emily’s eyes soften even more at your words. She presses a kiss to your forehead. “It is your home, whenever you want it to be.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

Nat would be the type of friend to 'teach you how to kiss' just as an excuse to be ur first kiss tbh

she'd immediately laugh when you gave no idea what you're doing, but she'd keep kissing u anyway

anyways soft!nat is cannon and my mind won't be changed

About You

Ugh anon this is so real 😭😭 my bitch ass has never kissed anyone (who's shocked) and I've been thinking about Nat being r's first kiss for like WEEKS.

Small Nat being your first kiss blurb <3

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

"Dude. No, I'm saying it's embarrassing. How many seniors in high school have never been kissed? Not that many." You're lying on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, as Natalie sits at your desk.

"I'll kiss you. Teach you how to do it so when there's an actual person you want to kiss, you'll know how." You sit up to look at her, and she looks kind of serious about it.

"I can't tell if you're making fun of me or not," you reply, swinging your legs off the bed and walking over to your mirror.

"I'm being serious! People do this all the time. Friends kiss each other for practice." She shrugs, looking over at you.

You contemplate for a moment, not really knowing what to do in this situation. Sure, she was your best friend. But you wanted to kiss her in a not-so-friendly way.

Eventually, your desire to kiss her won out over your want for it to be romantic. You huffed and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her as she sat on your desk chair.

"Fine. But when I'm inevitably shit at kissing you can't make fun of me."

She nods and moves from the chair to the bed next to you.

"I won't make fun of you to anyone else." She grins, and you roll your eyes.

"Well, I guess that's the best I can ask for with you."

She smiles and leans forward, and you freeze. When she's millimeters away from your lips, she cups your face and whispers "relax" before pressing your lips together.

For a moment, you're still frozen. You don't know what to do, or where to put your hands. Nothing. Natalie laughs against your mouth, and you pull away.

"Sorry, sorry. Seriously, though, dude. You have to relax. It's just me, you know I won't judge you." She looks genuinely apologetic, and she takes one of your hands in hers.

"I just- where do I put my hands? What do I even do?"

"Jesus, you don't have to think about it that much. This is supposed to be fun. Just do what feels right to you, I guess? Again, it's just me."

You sigh, nodding. She's right, it is just her. She leans in again, and this time you try to relax. You still have no idea what to do with your hands, but she takes one of them and moves it to the back of her head.

She's soft with the kiss, more gentle than you'd ever seen her. It was nice honestly, the warm feeling of her lips on yours, the way she kept doing things at your pace. When you parted your lips a bit, she tentatively poked her tongue into your mouth. You didn't hate the feeling, but it was unexpected.

The two of you continue like that for a few moments before she pulls away. She smiles, and you blush.

"Not bad for your first time," she teases, flopping back onto your bed.

"Wow. Thank you so much." You roll your eyes and lie down next to her, turning your head to look at her face.

"We can keep practicing." She shifts to her side, looking at you.

You smile, but she suddenly turns serious.

"I want to keep kissing you." She looks almost nervous, and you've never seen her look so vulnerable before. "I didn't kiss you just because I thought you'd be more comfortable with practice. I wanted to kiss you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You reach for her hand and intertwine your fingers, trying to fight the fluttering feeling in your stomach.

"Good. I want to keep kissing you too."

[goatgoatgoat7778]

I swear I draw more than rainworld stuff, this is just somehow the only stuff that ends up getting posted! I probably outta start posting sketches and stuff to balance things out lol. 

Not to mention that this isn't even the original direction I was gonna take with Scratch. I was going to have him form a bond with an iterator who was studying slugcat language. Originally the iterator would help him out of pity (and to study his language), but would later realize he's kind of a gluttonous jerk and would only work with him begrudgingly to further their studies. I might still do something with that, but chronologically it takes place before this story. Oh well. Non-chronological story-telling just makes it more artsy or something lmao

Anyway, story:

Warnings: painful hunger, Scratch questions whether he’s a good person and it might be kinda heavy? idk, he's going through a redemption arc

Wake never thought that the first slugcat he’d end up bunking with would be such an ass. 

 He tried his best to be courteous when they first met! The edible flora in the region had been scarce the past few cycles and it seemed the other slugcat (Scratch, as he would later introduce himself) had been hit by the famine, given the audible rumbling coming from his stomach as he fixated on the large centipede at Wake’s feet. His stomach gave a groan to remind him that he’d also been affected by the famine, but he stifled it with a hand as he offered to share his meal. It had been a long time since he had company, and Wake was more than happy to eat a smaller portion if it meant making a friend. Surely, he thought, that such an act could only lead to friendship.

Scratch apparently didn’t view the exchange in quite the same light. Instead of sharing, he demanded Wake give him the whole centipede, so the breaking of bread turned into a tug-of-war which escalated into a full on wrestling match. They broke it up when it started to rain, knowing they only had a few moments to get to shelter before it grew dangerously heavy.

It was clear that Scratch wasn’t as acquainted with the area as Wake, and though Wake was mad about the fight, he wouldn’t dare leave a slugcat to die. He grabbed Scratch’s hand and pulled him beneath the water where the nearest shelter was. Usually it would be easy enough to swim down there, but the added weight of Scratch, who refused to so much as even kick his legs in assistance, and the massive centipede he refused to let go of, made the short trip feel like a high-intensity workout. 

Wake pulled them into the shelter. The automatic door slammed shut behind them and the excess water drained through the floor. Scratch took a few gasping breaths and shook himself off while Wake flopped onto his back, muscles burning from the unexpected exercise. The only thing he wanted to do was stuff himself with centipede and take a long nap. But Scratch had other plans. Which is to say, Scratch had the exact same plan.

Before Wake could even process what was happening, Scratch ate the entire centipede by himself, leaving nothing but the hard inedible shells behind. He then nestled himself in the opposite corner of the shelter, giving no acknowledgement to Wake for either the meal or saving his life. Absolutely ungrateful!

Now, Scratch was fast asleep while Wake jealously watched his large belly grumble contently. Wake rolled over onto his back, and rested one hand on his horribly empty stomach. He swore he could feel it devouring the excess fat on his belly in real time, each rumble further hollowing out the space between his ribs. It wasn’t the first time he’d been through a starvation cycle, but it had been quite a while since the last time he had and he really wasn’t used to it.

Another deep growl erupted and he found himself a bit embarrassed about the noise but secretly hoping the noise would wake Scratch up. If he had to go without food, it was only fair that Scratch should go without sleep. It was petty, but an eye for an eye was enticing when you lost yours first.

For the time being, all he could do was imagine the closest places to get food from the shelter as he waited for sleep to take him. Maybe the flora would be grown by the time the shelter opened back up- otherwise he could go for something meaty and filling. Bubble fruit, glow weed, jellyfish, lizards… or a centipede even bigger and juicier than the one from before, all to himself. The thought caused a twinge in his stomach, and suddenly a loud groan emerged from his middle, echoing through his empty digestive tract and rumbling from his rib cage down to his navel. He quickly pressed his hands into his stomach to stifle the noise. Now this was just ridiculous! 

Scratch’s stomach was constantly noisy due to his ever-present hunger, and he was able to tune it out for the most part- but when the growling got to a certain volume, he knew he had to listen. He rolled over onto his side, his large stomach stretched out in front of him. He propped his head up with one hand and rubbed his stomach with the other, as that seemed to be the only way to calm it down while waiting for the shelter’s doors to unlock. Though weirdly he felt full, at least full enough to where his stomach shouldn’t be making such a loud and hollow growl like the one that just woke him up.

He rubbed his eyes and peered into the darkness.When he saw the slugcat next to him, pressing his hands into his stomach as it shook beneath him, he finally recalled the events that led them there. His adversary, he remembered, had been quite thin during their first interaction, but he looked even thinner now. Deep in the back of his mind, for the first time, a twinge of guilt manifested itself. Surely such a thin slugcat needed that centipede more than Scratch did, yet he tried to share with Scratch anyways. And then he saved Scratch’s life, only for Scratch to repay him by gorging himself and leaving nothing behind. Okay, so maybe Scratch messed up. In fact, maybe it’s not the first time he had messed up. There wasn’t much he could do about it now, but at least he could try to make it up to Wake.

What’s that thing called when you say something to someone so they get over a bad thing you did? It started with an “a” I think… apple? appal, aplo, abe, aps….  I can’t remember! I’ll figure it out later.

Scratch sat himself next to Wake, who looked at him with those unusual pupiled eyes. “You seem hungry,” he said, still racking his brain for that forsaken word.

Wake furrowed his eyebrows. Another growl tore through his stomach as he curled his body in to stifle it. “Go figure.”

“Okay look, I should have shared the centipede or whatever. I feel like… bad about it.” Scratch rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as his more complex thoughts struggled to manifest themselves as words. 

 If he was being truly honest with himself, would the seed of guilt be able to sprout through his words so that Wake could see it? Or would it be even more clear to him how selfish Scratch was, manipulating Wake into showing him forgiveness and tacit permission to continue his self-serving lifestyle? Scratch always avoided thinking too hard about whether he was a “decent” person and he certainly avoided talking about it. If he confined them in his brain, they were just transient thoughts with no real weight to them. But if he said them out loud, they would become real, something that could become part of the consciousness of others and something to be validated. He knew others wouldn’t look at him favorably if he said what he was thinking. He kept this thought inside, too.

  Hunger was much easier for him to understand; it’s that gnawing in your stomach that feels like a black hole pulling in energy and fat and muscle from the body, refusing to quit even in the absence of food. This black hole also pulled the thoughts from his head. Anything that wasn’t related to his hunger, or satiating it, was dragged into the event horizon until the singularity at the pit of his stomach churning the thoughts into an aching nothingness, and forcing Scratch’s attention on his innate need for food. It was a simple, predictable, and necessary cycle, but he didn’t know how to balance that with overindulgence. At some point, the black hole of his stomach became a supermassive black hole and he, an obsessive astrophysicist.

It had been a long time since the instinct of satiating oneself was overshadowed by another- the instinct to take care of one’s own. At the end of the day, he would do what he instinctively felt like doing, regardless of whether he could justify it or not (and for once, he could).

“I don’t have food but I could try to help with… y’know.” He gestured to Wake’s stomach as it lurched hungrily. “Making it a bit more tolerable until the rain stops.”

Wake blinked, his expression softening. He was never one to hold a grudge, especially when his curiosity was piqued. “How?”

Scratch reached over and placed a hand on Wake’s stomach, gently circling it as the riotous gut rumbled against the pressure, somehow even louder than it was before. It was soft and cool, and Scratch could feel Wake tensing his ab muscles before his stomach let out another groan. “It won’t help if you don’t relax. Your stomach will growl whether you want it to or not, so there’s no use trying to hide it.”

Wake let out a long breath as he let his muscles loosen. Scratch was clearly very good at tending to tumultuous tummies; he seemed to know exactly where to rub to ease the pressure where his stomach twisted in its fruitless effort to devour the various foods Wake had been imagining. His eyes closed as the wave of hunger began to die down but they fluttered open when he felt Scratch move from rubbing his stomach to rubbing his cheeks and running his fingers through his feathery gills. 

“I was just curious to see how they felt,” he explained as he pulled his arms back and lied back down. “Goodnight, I guess.” 

Wake, not quite wanting the affection to stop but not going to push it, mumbled, “can you get closer? You’re warm.”

“Sure,” Scratch replied, scooting until his back was resting against Wake’s front. Wake wrapped his arms around him and rested his cheek against his shoulder. Scratch wasn’t sure if Wake was fully cognizant of what he was doing or if he was always this touchy-feely with other slugcats. But as certain as he was that he would wake up hungry in the morning, he was certain of one thing; hugs feel nice.

[lilac-hecox]

Reddit Stories Guest Stats

So, for fun I kept track of the guests on Reddit Stories from when they began (counting current format and not the initial videos they did). The guests are in order of their chronological appearance except they are also in order of the number of the appearances on the show.

This is just for fun and for interesting purposes to see the break down of the guests on the episodes and what duos are featured most as of now.

I intend on keeping this updated as Reddit Stories comes out via editing and reblogging each week when a new episode comes out.

I'd love thoughts, comments, etc. on thoughts on this!

--

-- Updated Feb 1st, 2025 --

Smosh Reddit Statistics

Courtney & Angela: 4 – Relationships Gone Wrong | Relationship Flops | Reddit Soup For The Soul | 2024’s Worst Person

Chanse & Angela: 4 – Most Unpredictable Reddit Stories | Iconic r/AITA Stories | The Devil In Disguise | Congratulations Are In Order

Amanda & Arasha: 3 – Secondhand Cringe | I’m Sorry, WHAT? | Who Do They Think They Are?!

Courtney & Trevor: 3 – Am I The Ex? | You Won’t See This Coming | Are They Better Off?

Ian & Damien: 3- Most Disturbing Stories Yet | Play Stupid Games | The Messiest Relationships On Reddit

Ian & Courtney: 3 – Break Ups And Brush Offs | Nightmare Vacation Stories | Why Would They Do This?

Arasha & Trevor: 3- Are These Relationships Doomed? | Dating Dos And Don’t’s | Not So Happy Holidays

Olivia & Amanda: 2 – Revenge | What Were They Thinking?!

Ian & Arasha: 2 – Did They Go Too Far? | Stories That Make You Go “Oof”

Spencer & Tommy: 2- Office Nightmares | Shayne’s Favorite Reddit Stories

Ian & Anthony: 2 – Unexpected Reunions | It’s Brutal Out Here

Angela & Damien: 2 – Why Are They Like This? | And They Were Roommates

Amanda & Angela: 2 – Once A Cheater | Reddit’s Messiest Drama

Tommy & Amanda: 2 – Looking For Revenge | The Reddest Red Flags

Tommy & Courtney: 2 – Reddit’s Biggest Regrets | Friend Or Foe?

Courtney & Spencer: 2 – Worst Of The Worst | From The Weird Corners Of The Internet

Ian & Amanda: 2 – Am I Safe??? | Catching Flights And Starting Fights

Angela & Spencer: 2 – Is He Cheating? | Office Horror Stories

Tommy & Chanse: 2 – The 4/20 Episode | The Most Unhinged Dating Stories

Amanda & Damien: 2 – The Weirdest AITA Stories | Reddit Stories To Tell In The Dark

Tommy & Damien: 2 – It’s Just A Prank Bro | These Reddit Stories Will Blow Your Mind

Arasha & Courtney: 2 – Is Blood Thicker Than Water? | The Most Self-Centered People On Reddit

Trevor & Angela: 2 – Most Embarrassing Stories Yet | Why Would You Post This Online??

Chanse & Courtney: 2 – First Date Flops | What Goes Around Comes Around

Chanse & Kimmy: 1 – Unhinged Holiday Stories

Mac & Jackie: 1 – Unhinged / Say Less

Spencer & Ian: 1 – Is She The Villain?

Rachel & Ify: 1 – Family Drama

Mac & Tommy: 1 – Gay Drama

Damien & Noah: 1 – Are They The Devil?

Damien & Courtney: 1 – World’s Worst Roommates?

Jackie & Keith: 1 – Toxic Friendships

Spencer & Noah: 1 – High School Drama

Ian & Tommy: 1 – Parties Gone Wrong

Noah & Courtney: 1 – Siblings Stories

Noah & Amanda (Swell Entertainment): 1 – Getting Nerdy

Angela & Thomas Sanders: 1- Wholesome

Spencer & Zach Kornfeld: 1 – Try Not To Cringe

Chanse & Amanda: 1- Serving Drama

Amanda & CallMeKris: 1 – Scary Stories

Garrett & Olivia: 1 – Travel Horror Stories

Keith & Noah: 1 – The Dumbest Stories Of All Time

Chanse & Arasha: 1 – Not Getting Married Today

Tommy & Noah: 1 – They Did WHAT?

Courtney & Amanda: 1 – Am I The Grinch?

Arasha & Anthony: 1 – 2023’s Worst Person

Angela & Tommy: 1 – Feel Good For Once

Damien & Quinton Reviews: 1 – Offscreen Drama

Sabrina Brier & Angela: 1 – Mean Girls In Real Life

Courtney & Sarah Whittle: 1 – World’s Worst Co-Workers

Chanse & Mac: 1 – Party Nightmares

Tommy & Morgan (Two Hot Takes): 1

Arasha & Spencer: 1 – Spilling Reddit’s Secrets

Anthony & Courtney: 1 – The Best And Worst Friends

Arasha & Angela: 1 – Seeking Sweet Revenge

Cammie & Taryn: 1 – The Pride Episode

Arasha & Tommy: 1 – Back To School Stories

Angela & Mac: 1 – Updates Only

Spencer & Amanda: 1 – A Bad Case Of The Sillies

[aetherghouls]

ghostsoap coffee shop au where Soap has been down bad for the past 2 years since he started working at the coffee shop and first saw the hot tattoo artist working across the street, but he had never made any moves because 1. he doesn't even know if Ghost is interested in men (or anyone, really) and 2. the guy seems too reserved to enjoy someone throwing themself at him, so instead, he just settled for small talk every time, trying to make Simon warm up to him slowly. They became friends, of course, no one could resist Johnny and his charm, even if the Brit always denied it and stayed rough around the edges. And then a new barista comes into the picture, a gorgeous one. They were all over Ghost the second they saw him.

To say that his blood was boiling every time he saw that would be an understatement, a big one. There was nothing in those moments he hated more and if looks could kill, the new barista would be long dead. Too bad it didn't work. Too bad Soap, instead of just telling Ghost he liked him, watched the way the new one was flirting with Simon so openly and the tattoo artist was playing into it.

Johnny had became so fucking grumpy after a week of that, everyone noticed, especially Ghost, because he was on the recieving end of it. And if there was one thing Johnny could do, it was being passive aggressive while mad.

Don't be fooled though, he wasn't unprofessional, but he definitely cut the small talk, turned down Ghost every time he tried to chat, gods, he even made up tasks to do just do he didn't have to be around Ghost and the new guy if they had a shift together and the artist came around. Everyone noticed.

Gaz tried asking, of course, the good friend he is. He knew Johnny fancied Simon, so the sudden change of hearts was unexpected until he saw the new barista with Ghost. It all made sense suddenly.

That's how Kyle came up with a way to force Johnny to finally talk to Simon.

To be fair, it wasn't hard, convincing his friend. The hardest part was making him admit that he was jealous, then it all went smoothly. Soap was of course, still grumpy and still angry with Ghost for not putting two and two together, but Kyle, gods bless this man's soul for putting up with it all, could be really persuasive.

And that's how, through a needlessly complicated and twisted plan that could have been executed in many more simple ways, Simon finally took a hint as to why his favourite barista was mad at him, and – of course – he did his best to make up for it. Not openly, he wasn't some soppy teenage boy that would turn into a puddle when someone he fancied was angry. It was just simply not him to act that way. So, instead, he left little gifts for Soap, nothing overly elaborate, he'd, for example, buy something to eat with his coffee, things he knew Jonny enjoyed and leave them for the Scot, instead of taking them, always brushing it off as "not having enough time to eat" when he finished his drinks.

It took a good month for John MacTavish to get over it, over thirty days of Simon doing little things for him so the barista would go back to his previous self. Him and Ghost may and may not have gone out after that, too, but that's a story for another day.

I wrote this at work mostly lmao (I don't even work at a coffee shop) (don't eat me it's the first writing I've posted properly in years) (you won't see me here for months after this 🫶)

it's embarrassing to post anything on Tumblr so if this flops I'm deleting my account and burying myself 3 feet under

[fallinnflower]

01:01

mingyu x reader (fluff, hurt/comfort?, non-idol!au)

wc: 1.3k

a writing exercise i did with a friend using this prompt list and the prompts "when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say i was too sweet for my own good. maybe he was right." and "i'm the one you've been looking for."

a/n: thanks everyone for being patient with me, i'm still working on some big projects (vampire!DPR Ian and also vampire!BamBam [same universe], vampire!Jun, part 2 of river god!Wonpil, a Wonwoo fic based loosely on Kiki's Delivery Service... send help) in the works but wanted to post a little something <3

As soon as you get into your apartment's living room, you flop onto the couch on your stomach, paying no mind to the makeup you're probably smudging onto the throw pillow. Now just isn't the time. Future you can worry about cleaning it. 

Familiar footsteps follow you into the living room and a knee gently nudges the side of your stomach; you roll so your back is pressed against the back of the couch and Mingyu can lie down in the remaining space. He settles on his side, facing you with his hand propping up his head. His eyes glimmer slightly, and he gives you a wry smile,

"Well, happy anniversary," he says. You groan and look away from him, pressing your face into the couch cushions. He chuckles at your exaggerated reaction and gently reaches over to start undoing the elaborate updo you'd pinned your hair into. 

"What a night," he continues, pulling the bobby pins out one by one. You still refuse to look up, embarrassed and frustrated. 

It wasn't like it was anyone's fault, really, that all your evening plans had gone to total shit. First was the unexpected downpour that ruined your plans of a nice walk before dinner forcing you to frantically hail a cab while huddled under his expensive suit jacket. You'd already felt apologetic over that, and then your distracted cab driver missed a turn, which you thought was bad enough because you would be late for the reservation at this rate. 

But then it had to get worse (because of course it had to get worse) when the cabbie rear-ended another car because they were too busy yelling at someone on the phone. The two of you had to spend another two hours huddled under a shop awning, answering questions for the police officers that came to assess the scene. Thankfully, nobody was seriously hurt, but you still cried so much that everyone kept asking if you needed them to call paramedics. 

That was part of why you didn't want to look at Mingyu. No doubt your face was a mess, not to mention your hair, which he was now methodically freeing from the style you had spent so long on. 

You'd just wanted it to be perfect. You only have one first wedding anniversary, after all. To avoid crying more, you keep your face pressed into the cushions, not responding to your husband. More gently, then, he asks,

"Hey, you're sure you're okay, right?" You sniffle. Goddamnit. 

"Yeah," you croak. "I just… feel bad." Mingyu chuckles. 

"I know, but it isn't your fault," he reassures you. It should make you feel better, but it doesn't. You know Mingyu isn't bothered — this sort of thing doesn't faze him quite like it does you — but you still feel anxious and upset. Is this some kind of warning of impending doom in your relationship? Just the thought makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

You finally turn your face again so you can breathe more easily and find Mingyu smiling at you, concern still clear in his eyes. The couch cushion feels rough against your cheek, still a bit sensitive from all the crying and being out in the cold. 

"I think we have ramen," Mingyu says. "Should I make some? Are you hungry?" Your lower lip trembles as tears start welling up again, and this time you press your forehead into Mingyu's shoulder to hide your face. 

"How are you so calm?" you sputter. "How are you not— not upset?" 

"What, upset at you? You didn't do anything. And the driver didn't get away with being reckless, so I don't need to worry about that, either," he says calmly. When you only continue to sniffle pathetically, he changes his approach a bit,

"Or maybe I'm just too nice. I still remember when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say I was too sweet for my own good. Maybe he was right."

You let out an extremely undignified snort and lift your head to look at him. 

"As if. My dad never said anything like that," you tease. "Plus, 'all those years ago?' It's not like we met as kids or something. We met in college." Mingyu pouts at you, but his eyes glimmer playfully. 

"It sounds so much less romantic when you say that," he whines. 

"Well, you've always been the romantic one," you retort, but Mingyu is quick to counter you,

"No, no— I still remember that letter you wrote me when the semester was ending, when you said I was the one you'd been looking for—"

"Shut up!" you cry, placing your hands over his mouth. On top of everything else tonight, you don't want to be reminded of your embarrassing confession via love letter from years ago. You'd been a lovestruck student afraid you would lose your chance forever when you wrote that letter, and certainly hadn't expected that Mingyu had also been harboring a secret crush on you that would lead to marriage. It had been corny and sappy all because you thought you wouldn't see him again! Oh, how your actions had come back to haunt you. 

You can feel Mingyu smiling under your palms, and it only makes your face get hotter. Eventually, you remove your hands from his face and snuggle up closer to his chest, pressing your forehead into his shoulder again. 

"You're so annoying," you murmur, and you can feel the laughter reverberate through Mingyu's chest as he winds an arm around you. 

"But you still married me," he says. You smile. It still gives you butterflies, thinking of Mingyu as your husband, still so fresh a sensation. It's only been a year, after all. 

"Yeah," you reply. "I did."

Mingyu holds you for a few minutes, gently combing his fingers through your hair as you calm down. Eventually, he broaches the subject of dinner again, now that it's been hours since you were supposed to have eaten. 

"Do you want to shower while I make the ramen?" he asks, and you nod. Mingyu gets up off the couch as you sit up and stretch, noticing the lingering dampness in your hair and dress. A shower definitely sounds nice. You start making your way down the hallway, then turn back to face the living room. 

You watch as Mingyu attempts to straighten out his crumpled, damp button-down shirt, and smile to yourself. 

"Actually," you start, causing Mingyu to stop what he was doing and look up at you out of curiosity. "Do you… wanna join me? It's our anniversary, after all." You can feel your face warming up, but it's worth the slight embarrassment just to see the surprise on your husband's face. Sometimes he can seem so innocent. 

It only takes him a moment to snap out of it though, and cross the living room to meet you in the hallway with a broad grin. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you without hesitation.

"That sounds perfect," he says, practically purring, and you let out a surprised yelp when he suddenly scoops you up bridal style. You throw your arms around his neck and lean against him, giggling. As you look up into his face, all your irritation and upset from earlier melts away. Why should it matter if you went to a fancy restaurant or just ate ramen at home? All you want is to be together — that's why you got married. 

As Mingyu sets you down in the bathroom, you keep your arms looped around his neck and give him a kiss of your own. 

"Happy first anniversary, Gyu." He smiles that big, toothy grin you love so much, the one that makes him look like a happy puppy. 

"Happy anniversary, Y/N. The first of many."

It turns out to be a pretty good night, after all.

[fanartandfanfiction]

Sick

Inspired by @ellivenollivander and @damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog

Ominis is sick and you’ve stepped in to take care of him.

Word count: 1773 SFW, just some cute fluff

—————————————

“ACHOO!” Ominis sneezed into the sleeve of his robe.

“Watch it, mate! You nearly sneezed on me!” Sebastian grumbled.

“I’m sorry, it’s not like I could SEE YOU.”

“Why don’t you just give up and go see Nurse Blainey?”

“I don’t NEED to see nurse Blainey. I’m not-“ his sentence was cut off with another sneeze.

“At least go to bed. I’ll tell your professors you’re sick. Everyone would much prefer you keep your germs to yourself.”

“I feel like I should sneeze on you on purpose now.” Ominis grumbled. Though going back to bed did sound pretty great, since navigating without sight was its own challenge, and adding dizziness to the mix wasn’t helping.

He went back to his dorm and flopped down on his bed. He didn’t even bother changing out of his school clothes. He coughed into his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, he was woken to the sound of a knock. “It’s open!” He shouted, though slightly muffled.

“Ominis? It’s me.” You said as you cracked open the door.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He sat up and sniffed.

“Sebastian said you were sick. I’m here to help.”

Ominis smiled sweetly at you. “Thank you, but I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” He stood up from his bed and stumbled. You grabbed onto him to steady him.

“Ominis! You’re burning up!” You pressed your hand to his forehead. He jumped at the unexpected touch, but then leaned into your hand.

“Am I? Because frankly it feels like I’m in a refrigerator.”

“You need to get back in bed. Do you want to change into pajamas? I can step out.”

“Sure.” Ominis stepped toward his dresser and staggered again.

“Ok, change of plans. Sit down, I’ll get them.” You led him to the bed and sat him down in the side. You went over to his dresser and opened a drawer, your cheeks coloring a bit as you looked at his underwear.

“Third drawer.” He grumbled. You opened the third drawer and chuckled.

“What?”

“This is the most neatly organized pajama drawer I’ve ever seen. I don’t know why I’m surprised.” You pulled out a soft T-shirt (that you kind of wanted to steal) and plaid green pajama pants. “Alright, here we go.” You reached for his shirt button and he jumped.

“What are you doing?!”

“Unbuttoning your shirt?” You reached for it again.

His eyes widened. “You are NOT changing my clothes. I’ll do it.” He stood up and stumbled, clutching his head. “Ugh, my ears are ringing and I’m terribly dizzy.” He attempted to unbutton his shirt and his hands were shaking. He hoped you would attribute it to being sick, and not the idea of you undressing him.

“That’s what I’m here for. Now, let me help you.”

Ominis’ cheeks were tinted pink as you began unbuttoning his shirt. You slid it off his shoulders, briefly admiring his chiseled abdomen. You knew he was fit, but DAMN.

“Are you done staring?” He smirked.

“Sorry. Put your arms up.” He sighed and put his arms up, and you tugged the shirt on over his head. “Alright, um, what about pants?”

“I’m not letting you take my pants off!” This was embarrassing enough.

“Sit on the edge of the bed. I’ll step out, just give a shout when you’re done.” You placed the pajama pants in his hand and left the room. You leaned against the door and exhaled. You thought you’d done well at hiding your crush on your friend, but now that you knew what he looked like without a shirt on, it was going to be much more difficult.

“Alright, you can come back.”

You entered and smiled at Ominis in his pajamas. You hadn’t thought he could get any cuter. You were wrong. “Ok, mister. Into bed with you.”

“You don’t have to speak to me like a child.” He grumbled. You helped him under the covers and he was shivering.

“I made a stop by the hospital wing on my way here. This will help with the fever.” You pressed a vial into his hand. He downed it and made a face. “Fair warning, it’ll make you drowsy. Nurse Blainey said you might feel a bit funny too, it’s pretty strong.”

“I feel fine. My tongue is fuzzy.” He began sticking out his tongue and touching it.

“Oh dear. Maybe you should get some rest. I’ll leave you alone.”

“You’re leaving?” He said, looking like a scared child.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay with you or not.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.” He pouted.

“That’s fine.” You smiled. “I suppose I can conjure a chair.”

“Will you sit with me?” He patted the bed. He looked adorable, and you just wanted to hug him.

“Of course.” You walked over to his bed and sat beside him.

“I’m f-freezing.” His teeth were chattering.

“Come here, I’ve got you.” You reached for him and he leaned away.

“I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Don’t worry, I rarely get sick. Your fever will come down soon. In the meantime, you can share my body heat.” You reached for him and this time he let you pull him over. You blushed as his head rested on your chest. His body was shaking and you held him tightly.

“I feel awful.” He whined.

“I know.” You began stroking his hair and he sighed contendedly. If it weren’t for the damn flu, this was heaven. He could hear your heart beating, and it soothed him, as well as the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. Your hand felt wonderful as you stroked his hair.

He couldn’t remember a single time in his life he’d been comforted like this. If you got sick at the Gaunt house, you were quarantined to your room and fended for yourself. His father had been furious once when he caught the flu from Ominis. He shuddered as he remembered his harsh punishment.

“Are you still cold?” You asked. You pulled the covers tighter around him and rested your head on his. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

He snuggled tighter against you. He felt so safe, so loved…

Come to think of it, you were one of the only people that touched him. He preferred it that way, but didn’t mind one bit when you’d take his hand to lead him somewhere or bump his leg under the table to wake him up during history of magic. There was something so wonderful about your touch. It would be easy to get addicted to.

At some point he drifted off to sleep, waking to the feeling of a cool rag on his forehead. Why was he so hot?

“Your fever is coming down. The cool washcloth should help.” You’d been leaning over him and began to walk away. He let out a small whimpering sound that broke your heart. “I’m right here.” You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t leave.” He whined.

“I’m not.”

“You did!” He pouted. You smiled at his pouty demeanor. You walked back around to the other side of the bed and got in it again.

Ominis immediately scooted over to cuddle you again. “Will you rub my head again?”

“Of course.” You began working your fingers through his hair again and he sighed.

“Promise you won’t leave”

“I won’t.” You smiled down at him. Ominis surprised you by wrapping both arms around you and pulling you close. The poor boy was miserable.

You hated to wake him up, he was sleeping so peacefully, but it was lunchtime and he needed to eat.

“Ominis.” You whispered softly and stroked his hair. “Wake up, Omi.”

He grumbled in response and buried his head in your chest.

“You need to eat and stay hydrated.”

“Not hungry.” He mumbled.

“That’s too bad. Sebastian is bringing us lunch.”

“Stay with me until he gets here.”

“I will.” You looked down and saw a wide grin on his face. “Why are you smiling?”

“I like it when you take care of me. No one has ever done that.”

It broke your heart, thinking of your own mother caring for you when you were sick. You couldn’t imagine never having anyone take care of you.

“You deserve to be taken care of.”

Ominis got very still and you wondered if he’d fallen asleep again. Then you felt a tear drop on your arm. “Omi?”

“Say it again.”

You hugged him tightly. “You deserve to be taken care of.”

You felt more tears hit your arm and you wanted to kiss them away. “Ominis. Look at me.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t.” He smirked.

“So sick and still so much attitude.” You chuckled. He looked up at you and you touched his cheek. “You deserve to be taken care of. You deserve to be loved. You deserve all the happiness in the world, Ominis, and if I could give it to you, I would.”

His expression was hard to read and you were afraid you’d overstepped. Then he smiled. “You already give me so much happiness. More than I ever expected to have.”

“Really?”

Ominis sniffed and sat up. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time but that cold medicine has made me feel a bit brave. I am hopelessly in love with you, Y/n. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but I can’t keep it hidden any longer. I-“

You cut off his words with a kiss. He kissed you back at first, then shoved you back. “What are you doing, you maniac?! You’ll most definitely get the flu if you kiss me!”

“Oh well. We can be sick together.” You kissed him again, then held him to you.

“Am I interrupting?” Sebastian asked from the doorway.

“Yes.” Ominis grumbled.

“Merlin, if both of you get sick, don’t expect me to coddle you.”

“Oh good, you brought lunch! Come here, Sebastian, let me give you a thank you hug.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, we can all be sick together!”

“Keep your germs to yourself!” Sebastian shouted as you chased after him. Ominis smiled to himself as he heard your laughter. Perhaps this flu was the best thing to happen to him.

-two days later-

You blew your nose while Ominis ran his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Don’t be, I’d do it again!” You grinned as he kissed your forehead.

“I hate both of you.” Sebastian grumbled from his own bed.

“Someone is a grumpy patient.” You gave him a teasing smile.

“Oh, bite me.”