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DJ Konik Morski - Planets (Alex) music analyze by Sonoteller.ai
Genres: Electronic (85), House (80), Chillout (75), Ambient (70), Downtempo (65)
Subgenres: Deep House (80), Progressive House (75), Nu Disco (70), Chillwave (65), Synthpop (60)
Moods:
Relaxed (85), Mellow (80), Beautiful (75), Romantic (70), Dreamy (65) Instruments
Synth, Drums, Piano, Strings, Violin
BPM & Key
123.05BPM, F# minor
Vocals 
Instrumental
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mod-jazzy · 1 year
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it’s like seeing a flock of birds that migrate once every 5 years magnificent 
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agentjazzy · 2 years
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santa knows who's imdb I've been going through this year 😔
but also: 💖💚💖💚💖 physical media (beloved) 💖💚💖💚💖
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csoisoi · 2 years
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according to tumblr (desktop at least) you're the singular top blog in jazz's tag
oh my god
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i checked mobile too what
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vilevampire · 1 year
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I block the yucky ship keywords (on twitter) and litcherally nothing changes bc it's muted in the timeline but it still shows up in search results. fuck
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blueberrysan · 2 years
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with approximately one hundred layers, that's how dbfhskjfhs
wizardry 💙
I do not have the patience for that ngl 😅😅
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hoshigray · 8 months
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𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:
❤︎ « next story
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“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”
“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”
“They’re at it again already, huh?”
“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”
College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!
But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.
Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 
And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.
However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”
“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”
“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 
Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 
Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 
“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”
“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”
“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 
She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 
You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 
You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…
You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 
It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!
“…hear me?…Y/n?”
You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”
She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”
Huh? “Where are you going?”
“To Haibara’s get-together?”
Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”
The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”
“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”
Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”
The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 
Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”
“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 
“Are you going?”
“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 
Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”
You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”
But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”
“Small group of friends, huh?”
“Yes!”
“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“
“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 
“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 
Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.
That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”
Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”
All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 
Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“
If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.
Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.
Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.
You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
I regret this so fucking much…
Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?
The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.
Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 
So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.
But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?
Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.
The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.
You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.
Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”
Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”
A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 
“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.
“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 
The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”
Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”
You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”
“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”
Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“
“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”
You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 
He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”
Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.
The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.
The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 
You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 
When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 
You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…
And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—
“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“
“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”
“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”
This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”
“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”
You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 
“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“
“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 
“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 
Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 
“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 
You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”
“…Is that a bad thing?” 
You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?
That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.
What the…Is he being genuine right now? 
You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”
Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.
Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 
Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??
“You look nice.” 
You—……I’m sorry, what???
The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.
“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 
He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”
When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.
You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”
Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 
“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”
You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”
“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.
“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”
“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 
You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”
His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 
He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”
You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”
“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 
“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”
“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”
Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 
Oh fuck.
“...”
Don’t.
“….Y/n,”
Don’t say it.
“You never had your first ki—“
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 
With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”
A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”
And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.
Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 
Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 
Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.
Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.
But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”
It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”
He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”
Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”
Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“
“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”
Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“
“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 
It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.
He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”
You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”
“….I don’t hear a no.” 
You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?
However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 
“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”
What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.
Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.
In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust. 
Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”
He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”
Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 
But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”
He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 
“Trust me, pretty.”
Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.
With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.
Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 
He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”
“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.
“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”
Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.
“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“
And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.
It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.
“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”
Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.
Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”
And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.
You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 
He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”
You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 
It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.
“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed. 
“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”
He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 
His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 
Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 
You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?
And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 
I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”
It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 
Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“
“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 
“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”
Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”
Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”
It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”
“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.
You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.
You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..
….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.
“Y/n!”
But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.
Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”
“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“
“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 
You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”
“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”
Huh? “Hurry where??”
“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”
We!? “Together!?”
“Yeah?”
“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”
He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”
“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”
“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”
“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”
He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 
“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”
“….Yeah.”
“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.
Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”
His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”
“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”
What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 
“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”
“….No.” 
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.
His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”
“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.
“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 
You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 
Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 
You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 
The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 
Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 
That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.
Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.
The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”
“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”
“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 
He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.
Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.
“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 
Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”
“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…
The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”
“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 
Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”
“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”
Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”
“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”
It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”
He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 
He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.
You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 
It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.
“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”
Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.
The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 
“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”
He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.
And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 
Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”
And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.
The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”
You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 
Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.
Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.
Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 
“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 
“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”
“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.
But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”
“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”
He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 
Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 
The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”
And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.
The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 
When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 
“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”
His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”
That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”
A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”
“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”
You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 
He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”
“You better.” 
BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!
Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 
You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”
“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”
The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”
Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”
Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”
“Okay, okay—“
“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”
“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”
You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”
“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”
The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”
I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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sonicenvy · 1 year
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there is a new scourge on AO3 that I discovered recently...
that scourge is "Placeholder fics". This is thing, where someone posts a "fic" on AO3 with a summary and tags (and sometimes even a complete tag), but when you click on the "fic" the content of the "fic" is something like:
"coming soon" or "in progress" or "an idea I'll write someday"
This is a scourge on AO3 tags that directly violates TOS Section IV, as it is spam (sect B) and inappropriate content (sect H) (not, strictly speaking a fanwork).
If you see these "placeholder fics" on AO3 REPORT THEM. It is easy to do.
Link the fic in report and in the description, you can write something like this:
The linked "fic" is a so-called "placeholder fic" where the author posts a work to a tag and the only content is the words "In progress". The "fic" appears in tags, yet contains no content, so I would consider it to be spam. Thank you!
(This, btw is the actual thing that I wrote to report one of these a few weeks ago)
If you want to get jazzy you can even mention that you believe the "fic" violates TOS IV.H (which is what the AO3 mod told me in the email response to my report) or TOS IV.B.
You can report anonymously if you want afaik. Once you submit a report the AO3 moderators will get back to you at some point to update you on that report and action taken.
This is a simple way that YOU can make AO3 better today. If you see a "fic" that violates TOS in any way, REPORT IT. There are literally millions of fics on AO3 and the moderators can't possibly go through all of them without YOUR help.
I suspect that the people who are posting these "placeholder fics" are probably very young people who are very new to fandom and fanfiction and do not know better. If you are reading this post, and you are one of these people, know that I don't hate you, I just want you to know that what you are doing is a violation of the AO3 TOS and that it fills AO3 tags with spam, preventing readers from finding actual fic to read. There can be (and certainly are) MANY fics on AO3 with the SAME names, if that's what is motivating this.
AO3 isn't a social media site, it's an ARCHIVE for fanfiction. If you want to communicate with your following that you are planning on writing a new fic, use your tumblr, your reddit, your dreamwidth, your substack, your pillowfort, your livejournal, your bird site or whatever the fuck you have to do this. Link your socials in your bio on AO3 if you must. Mention it in the author's notes on your latest work. IDK, just don't post empty "fics" on the ARCHIVE.
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fazcinatingblog · 2 years
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emma trying to laugh it off that jazzy is a better captain than her
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stealingyourbones · 10 months
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Prompt Idea: Danny has plot armor.
To start off, Danny’s whole family knows he’s Phantom, and they had to run from Amity because of the GIW. They wind up in Gotham because that’s the one place that The Government doesn’t really mess with.
The reason behind Danny’s plot armor is that in this world, Danny became incredibly overprotective of his friends and family in order to make sure he doesn’t wind up as Dan, ironically making the chance of that happening much greater than before.
In order to prevent this, Clockwork gives Danny and his family a blessing. It works like this.
Imagine you rolled a dice. To Clockwork, there are now 6+ possible alternate timelines that can ensue. Clockwork’s blessing allows those possible timelines to be restricted to only one or two, all of them good for the Fenton family.
In effect, it was like plot armor. Scarecrow attacks a library with Jazz inside? Oh, looks like her parents need her to pick up Danny early, or she drank too much water and needs to go to the bathroom, which just so happens to have a window just in reach that she can escape from.
Maddy needs to get a job? Well, Jazz’s university needs a new chemistry professor (last one was kidnapped by a rogue) and they’re in a bit of a rush so they’ll skip looking for a teaching certificate. No one cares anyways, it’s Gotham.
Jack needs something to do? Well, besides hunting ghosts, he’d always wanted to open a food truck! With Jazzy making sure nothings contaminated and some (slightly modified) recipes from the Ghost Zone, he can finally chase his dream in a big city with his Phantom Food Vehicle! He wonders what some of those shady men came up to him for, or that odd stout fella in the tux.
(The Phantom Food Truck has become a recent cryptid in Gotham. Except it’s not a cryptid, because everyone’s seen the video of the truck hurtling down the street like it’s chasing down the devil, cop cars and vigilantes alike on its tail. And yet, no one could find it. Not even the Bats. That’s about when everyone gave up. When they learned that you don’t find it, the Phantom Food Truck finds you.)
As for Danny? He’s entirely unaware of this, to focused on keeping his head down. It works, for a while. Before fate came knocking in the form of a wicked smile, as if there solely to ruin his day.
The Joker wasn’t having a good day either. He started out having a jolly old time, joker toxin gassing a small high school, making sure to leave macabre presents for his dear Batsy, and then what happens? This random kid just starts running around, helping students, saving teachers, what’s he gonna do next huh? Save a cat from a tree?
What’s worse, his useless henchmen couldn’t even land a hit on the kid! He swears, Bill doesn’t even seem to be trying.
Whatever, they managed to corner the brat, looked like he was standing in front of some other children. So Joker lines the shot, and he fires.
The gun jams.
Alrighty, he takes one from a random mook, and he shoots again.
The gun jams.
No one’s moving at this point. Where there was once dread and tension in the air, there’s just confusion. So Joker points the gun at a goon, pulls the trigger, the shot goes off.
He turns back to the Robin-ish looking twink, and he pulls the trigger.
The gun jams.
And as he starts walking towards the kid to just kill it himself, he wakes up in the Arkham hospital wing with his last memory of the encounter being him slipping on the glowing green contents of some weird looking thermos that the kid had thrown earlier in the fight. What the FUCK was that.
Clockwork doesn’t even care how pissed the Observers are any more, this is hilarious.
it's to the point of ridiculousness that the Bats have an entire file on Danny and they think he's a meta with a luck ability and nothing else.
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Meshy - Ai 3D Modeling - Free plan
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If you have created some 3d works with this or other ai tool - write a comment - is it easy to use?
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How can I use 3d models as interactive atraction in business websites, as new way of product/service presentation for clients?
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mod-jazzy · 2 years
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I may look like a fucking idiot while wearing it, but hey. It helps
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chanranghaeys · 1 month
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🥛 just like a tattoo
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Waking up was always something you looked forward to, especially if the first sight in the morning is Vernon and his hidden little secrets, and maybe his cute chocolate milk carton.
pairing: idol!tattooed!vernon x gn!reader, reader is identified to be female word count: 1.3k tags: slice of life, fluff first thing in the morning, vernon has multiple tattoos (in my head) listed in detail warnings: slight sexual overtones, pg-13 at most 😇
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
The light burns through your eyes, waking you from a dreamless slumber. Looking around, you find the source of the almost blinding glare: the patch of sun bleeding through the curtains of the already-lightened room. You glance at the clock hanging from the wall across you. It was 8 am on a Sunday—a perfect reason to sleep in.
You slowly move around the bed and find that you are already wearing a slightly loose shirt and panties. Memories of last night flood your mind and you close your eyes again almost as if in bliss. It’s been a good two weeks since you two spent the night together, and while you both maybe kinda slightly expected it, both of you were still surprised at how deep the need was for one another, as evidenced by the slight ache in your thighs and back while you moved. Nothing you couldn’t manage, but definitely more reason to just stay in bed.
When you turn again, you see his slim figure leaning against the door frame and you wonder how long he’d been watching you toss and turn. He had no shirt on because you realized that you had his shirt on your back, and his boxers were slung dangerously low as if haphazardly thrown on. And while you’ve marveled at this sight too many times than you can count, you still can’t help but look at his body in awe.
People could say he had a sleeper bod, and you agreed, but it wasn’t something he cared for. If he was healthy and able to move about, he was content with that. But with all the activity his job demanded, his body followed suit. He wasn’t all muscle or all skin, but he was built sturdily and toned in the places that got the most use—that is to say, his arms, thighs, and core. His naturally light skin tone almost looked sallow in the places that didn’t get much sun, but it only enhanced what he permitted only your, and very few other, eyes to see.
Strokes of black both thick and thin were scattered across his torso in a most curated manner. They weren’t a lot, but you knew that his tattoos were his most well-kept secret from the K-pop industry, and you knew it was the deepest privilege to be able to even have a glimpse of one, much less all that can be hidden behind a shirt. You’ve memorized all of them at this point.
On his right chest near his lower rib was a simple line of text in all caps inspired by a line from “The Matrix”: SEE IT FOR YOURSELF. Another text tattoo lined the left side of his torso, this time a vertical stack of letters spelling out MELODY—once a temporary tattoo for a concert, now permanent to forever honor his mother.
There was one tattoo that he knew people were aware of and didn’t mind much, and that was the small star tattoo at the back of his right ear’s helix, but little did people know that it was only one of a series, with the rest of the small stardust sparkles smattering his back near his right shoulder blade. Specifically, there were five of them, one representing each member of his tight-knit family, including Jazzy and Leo Chwe.
Amidst the minimalist tattoos was one that stood out as more realistic than others—a medium-sized sunflower head on his left hip, its petals you could see right now peeking from the top band of his boxers. People knew of his sister Sofia’s own sunflower tattoo down her left thigh, but fewer people knew that when she was 17 and he was 23, they both talked about how they’d get matching sibling tattoos and their discussion landed on sunflowers. While Vernon wished he could place it in a more prominent spot, he knew better than to do such a thing.
“Did you sleep well, baby?” His deep morning voice broke your reverie as you finally settled on his eyes, his gaze forever the most piercing one you never could break. You gave him a lazy, mischief-laden smile.
“The best sleep I’ve had in weeks. I guess I have someone to thank for making sure I was knocked out last night.”
He let out a light-hearted scoff and drank from his chocolate milk carton. “You know that I was just following your lead, right? I asked you what you wanted, I just gave it to you.”
“I know.” You rolled your eyes, recalling how you were practically begging him with tears in your eyes—the utter hold he had on you was intoxicating. It was those clear brown eyes, you swore so. “I hate you.”
“I love you, too.” At that, he gave you the softest smile and his gaze eventually followed suit.
“I love you more.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I hate you.”
He laughed again and shifted his weight off the door frame and moved toward you. You sat up to meet him in an embrace, your head resting on his warm chest as he kissed your head.
“Can we stay in, Nonie? Please? Pleaseeeeeee?” You look up at his raised eyebrow and pursed lips, swearing you will never get tired of his expressions that said exactly what he was thinking. Right now it obviously said, “Are you kidding me right now?”
“What if…” You trailed off mid-sentence as you lowered your hands to the waistband of his boxers, brushing your thumb over the sunflower’s petals suggestively. At that, he drew in a sharp breath and stepped away. He knew what you were capable of, so he had to stop it right there.
“Easy, young lady. You know we won’t get anywhere with that attitude of yours. We’ll be late if you keep that up.” The scene was comical, his serious expression and pointed finger at you in warning just did not suit the fact that his other hand held an unfinished milk carton.
You grab the carton from his hand and take a generous sip, grateful for the cool and sweet liquid down your parched throat. “Fine. But could you at least make me coffee? Or something that will wake me up more than this chocolate milk of yours?”
“It’s in the kitchen. I also made French toast!” His smile as he said this was so bright, it was the gummy smile you so loved from him. But it was what he said that made you stop mid-sip of milk.
“You what?”
“I made French toast. And bacon and eggs because it was the easiest after the French toast, which was not as easy as it looked when I did it with you.”
“And you made coffee?”
He shrugged. “I knew you were gonna wake up late,” finishing with a smirk. “Now come on. And give me back my milk carton before you finish it all.” He took back his drink and did not leave your side until you finally stood your lazy ass up. “There’s my good girl,” he says, followed by him slapping said ass teasingly, then walking out of the room with a final grin.
When he faced his back to you, you saw the most recent tattoo he got: a minimalist rendition of a rock with googly eyes on the small corner of its lower left. You remember watching “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once” in the cinema with him, the last full show of the day, and he would not shut up about it. You got it though, you truly did, and you’d both talk for hours on end about the film. So it was decided: it was the first matching tattoo you got together.
Could love really be this easy? You thought to yourself, as you smiled and got ready for payback.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
a/n: frickin’ vernon and his damn hip tattoo living rent-free in my headcanons. i blame my friends for planting this idea in my head and as a result, this came to be. i shall now leave you all with this mental image so i do not suffer alone HEHE
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The Look of Love.
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Synopsis - You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.
Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader x Eddie Diaz
Warnings - none!! just idiots in love.
Word Count - 1k
Author's Note - oh my buddie heart was bursting while writing this. whenever I watch 911, I always think about how easy it'd be to be friends (or more than) with eddie and buck. and then this was born!! hope you enjoy reading this sweetness as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Buck twirls you around, strong arms circling your waist. Your feet don't touch the ground as he spins you, the skirt of your dress billowing in the breeze. You lean back in his hold, and catch sight of Eddie throwing Christopher up in the air, both of them laughing.
Buck puts you down and grins at you, Cheshire cat smile bright and blinding. You smooth your hands across his chest, flattening out his crisp white dress shirt where you've crinkled it. You tug at his bow tie, straightening it gently. Your gaze meets his, and you beam at him.
"Have I told you how handsome you look tonight, Evan Buckley?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to sway with him. There's a smooth, jazzy melody echoing through the huge backyard, illuminated by golden, twinkling lights.
He quirks a brow at you cheekily before answering.
"I wouldn't mind hearing it again."
"I'm sure you wouldn't," you laugh, shrieking as he dips you backwards quickly.
"Well, you look very handsome. I like you in a tux."
You swear you see him blush slightly, heat creeping across his cheeks. He finds his confidence again, sliding his hands across the exposed skin of your back slowly.
"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," he tells you sincerely, eyes never leaving yours. "I should tell you that more often."
"Yes, you should," you tease, grinning at him.
You take notice of his smile, his relaxed shoulders, the way he's swaying with you effortlessly.
"You love weddings, don't you?"
"Hell yeah I do!" he replies delightedly. "Everyone I love all in one place, dancing, music... what more could you want?"
You can't wipe the smile off your face. He's right. The entire 118 is here, together as a family. Everyone is happy, excited to be celebrating Bobby and Athena's vow renewal. It's not often you all get to leave work at work and enjoy yourselves completely. You plan to make the most of every single second.
You feel two warm hands find your hips from behind, instantly leaning back into the broad chest behind you, knowing who it is immediately.
"Hola, Mr Diaz."
"Hola, hermosa."
"You gonna keep her all to yourself all night, Buckley?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, over the top of where Bucks are already resting. You're sandwiched between the two of them, completely content.
"We were avoiding you and your terrible dance moves," Buck jokes, the three of you swaying together now.
"Are you hearing this?" Eddie asks incredulously, chuckling into your ear. "My terrible dance moves?"
"Don't listen to him, Eds. His ego lies to him."
"It's called confidence! Sorry if I have faith in my dance moves!"
The three of you laugh, bodies and souls tangled and intertwined on the dance floor.
Across the backyard, Chimney and Hen are sat at their table, watching you, Buck and Eddie move to the music, arms wrapped around one another.
"They really love each other, don't they?"
"Oh, yeah," Hen laughs. "Wish they'd all just admit it."
Chimney looks at his best friend in confusion, brows quirked and face crumpled.
"... What?"
"Oh, come on, Chim," Hen chuckles. "It's twenty twenty three. Get with the program."
"You mean, like, love love," Chim confirms, still puzzled.
"Yes, Howie. Love love. In love. The three of them are completely in love."
Chimney processes for a moment, before a light bulb goes off in his head.
"Oh, shit!" he laughs. "They totally are!"
"Damn, men are oblivious. How am I the only one that's noticed?"
"You aren't," Bobby and Athena say in unison, pulling out chairs to sit at the table.
"But we can't rush them. Good things like this take time," Athena offers.
Bobby glances over at the dance floor. You're holding Buck and Eddie's hands, and Chris is too, the four of you dancing and laughing. He smiles for moment, before speaking.
"You know they basically live together?"
When he's met with confused faces, he continues.
"They all crash at Eddie's place with Christopher so often, they've practically moved in. Buck hasn't slept in his own apartment in months."
"I mean, how do you even... navigate something like that? The three of them? It's so complicated," Chimney asks genuinely.
"They'll figure it out," Bobby assures. "They always do."
With that, he rises from his chair and across the yard. He scoops Christopher up into his arms, promising him cake and soda, much to Eddie's dismay. He winks at Buck before carrying Chris away, leaving the three of you alone.
Eddie surprises you by grabbing your hand and then Bucks, pulling you both away from the crowd.
"Come on. I wanna show you something."
He leads you up and into the guest bathroom of the house, rolling his eyes at you and Bucks suggestive comments. He's first to climb out the window and onto the roof, making sure you get through safely in your dress.
The three of you sit and watch your friends in the yard below, quietly reflecting. You're suddenly aware of the way you're sandwiched in between them again, thighs pressed together. You lean left and rest your head on Eddie's shoulder, interlinking your right hand with Bucks.
"How lucky am I?" you breathe. "To be surrounded by so much love."
Eddie rests his head atop of yours, smiling as he watches Buck lean in to rest his on your shoulder. The three of you exhale.
"We're the lucky ones," Buck murmurs. "I never thought I'd have this."
"Well you do," Eddie reassures. "And we're not going anywhere, Buckley."
"He's right, Buck. We're not going anywhere. Ever."
Evan sits up to kiss you on the cheek, before leaning over you and doing the same to Eddie.
The three of you sit on the roof, bodies and souls intertwined, illuminated by the moonlight. How lucky you are, to be surrounded by so much love.
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sugdenlovesdingle · 2 months
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Prompt if you like?
Bobby and Athena spot Buck & Tommy on a date, and notice how happy and smiley they are with each other.
Oh thanks for this - i am a sucker for outsider POV's! I hope you like it!
---
"Now why have you brought me here?" Athena asked, linking her arm through Bobby's. "It's not my birthday or our anniversary."
"Can't I just take my beautiful wife out for a nice dinner? Somewhere we haven't been before?" Bobby replied. "This place got good reviews. Apparently the pizza is really good."
"And since when are you such a big pizza fan that you'll drive all the way over here?"
Bobby smiled.
"I'm just happy we're both alive and well and get to enjoy our time together. After the cruise and the fire I'm not taking any of that for granted anymore"
Athena gave his arm a squeeze. The past few months had been a lot.
"And that includes dinner at Hollywood's oldest Italian restaurant?" she asked, reading the awning on the front of the building.
"Yeah why not. Everything is more or less back to normal now, I think we deserve a night out on the town. They have live music too. Maybe I'll even get a beautiful lady to dance with me." Bobby said and twirled her around under his arm before walking into the restaurant.
The place wasn't too busy and a waitress showed them to their table and handed them their menus.
They ordered and sat back to people watch for a while as they waited for their food to arrive.
The atmosphere was nice, the house band was playing something jazzy, and they were enjoying themselves just catching up and talking about their days.
Bobby was in the middle of telling a story about one of the 118's recent calls when he noticed Athena's attention was no longer on him.
"Am I boring you? Has Hen told you this story already?"
"Hmm? Oh no, no... just... how did you say you found this place again?"
"Trusty google. And I think either Chim or Eddie mentioned it once."
"Or Buck?"
"Possibly." Bobby shrugged. "Why?"
"Because..." Athena trailed off and Bobby followed her line of sight.
He didn't see anything in particular that could remind her of Buck, and he was just about to ask her what she meant, when he saw the man in question sitting at a table, smiling brightly at someone who had their back turned towards them.
He was pretty sure he knew who that person was.
"Is that Tommy with Buck?" Athena asked.
"I think so. I think they're getting pretty serious."
"Tommy used to be at the 118 wasn't he? I remember Hen mentioning him from time to time. What's he like?"
"He's good people, Athena. Don't worry. He's good for Buck. They're good for each other." Bobby reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I haven't seen Buck this happy in... well... ever I think."
Athena didn't really reply, just kept watching Buck and Tommy.
They had apparently been there longer than her and Bobby because they were sharing a dessert.
She watched Buck blush as Tommy fed him a bite and get up slightly to lean across the table to kiss him.
He looked happy. Content. Comfortable. In love.
"Do you want to go over and say hi?" Bobby asked her.
On the other side of the restaurant a waitress handed Buck and Tommy their bill and Athena smiled to herself watching them play-fight over who would get to pay.
"And crash their date?" she shook her head. "Let them enjoy their night."
Apparently Buck had won the battle and he triumphantly handed the waitress his card.
As they got up and headed towards the door a few minutes later, she noticed Tommy putting a hand on the small of Buck's back and gently steering him past the other customers and tables.
unfortunately or fortunately, she wasn't sure, Buck spotted them and dragged Tommy over to their table.
"Cap! Athena! What are you guys doing here?"
"Same thing as us I think, babe." Tommy teased and Athena mouthed "babe" at Bobby while the two of them were distracted.
"Yeah, it's date night." Bobby told them. "We're treating ourselves to a nice dinner instead of take out and reality TV."
"Wait, is your kitchen not finished yet? I can cook for you. I'll make a few dishes and drop them off and you can freeze them and.."
"Buck, it's fine. Our kitchen is fine. We're just enjoying living our lives."
"Which might not have happened if it wasn't for you." Athena told Tommy, noticing how the hand from his back, now had found its way to Buck's hip.
"It was a team effort." He deflected. "One I'm glad had a happy ending."
"I'll drink to that." Bobby raised his glass at the two men.
Tommy smiled and turned to Buck.
"We should get going or we'll miss the movie."
"The only thing we'd miss is the first fifteen minutes of commercials." Buck replied with a grin, clearly a common argument between the two.
"And the trailers." Tommy argued. "I don't want to miss those."
Buck playfully rolled his eyes.
"We gotta go cap or my date will complain about missing the trailers the whole time."
Bobby laughed.
"You two enjoy the rest of your night." he told them and the two of them said their goodbyes and left.
Athena watched Buck grab Tommy's hand as they walked toward the exit and smiled.
She might not know Tommy that well yet, but she could tell the two of them were absolutely smitten with each other.
"So does he pass the test?" Bobby teased but Athena decided not to take the bait.
"Yeah." she nodded. "You're right. He's good people."
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kwanisms · 9 months
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🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 05 🎄
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«« previous | masterlist | next »»
➮ chef!Mingyu × fem baker!Reader wc: 6.6k summary: Mingyu and his wife, Y/N, get a little dirty while closing up the bakery the night before Christmas Eve. genres/themes/au: nothing but fluff and smut; holiday themes; non idol au, chef au, baker au, married couple au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, established relationship, mentions of stressful work conditions, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: i'm back with more foodplay! It plays a much bigger role this time lol Mingyu and MC are pretty nasty, going at it in their own business kitchen. This one was so fun to write, expanding on their dynamic and how they’ve grown since meeting at camp all those years ago. Now they’re married and the banter is adorable. I love their relationship. Thank you so much for reading and if you like this part, please reblog! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: unprotected sex (they're married but yall should use protection unless ur married too just, protect yourself lol) oral (m receiving), marking (m receiving), strength kink, size kink, bottom!Mingyu (but he's stronk boy), foodplay (frosting, whipped cream, cherries, etc), some light temperature play (ice; f receiving, m receiving), creampie (yum), dirty talk, begging kink, slight degradation (m receiving), it’s dirty, it’s filthy, they’re nasty lol
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Soft jazzy tunes floated through the air, drowned out by the chatter of customers as you headed back up to the front counter, a smile plastered on your face. Your cashier looked almost beside herself as she tried to get the terminal to work. “I’m here,” you said, drawing her attention. You could see the tears threatening to spill.
You felt your heart hurt for the poor girl. Amara was a hard worker but she’d never worked the holiday season with you at your bakery so she wasn’t prepared for the volume of orders, especially on Christmas Eve.
It was your fourth holiday season so you were falling into a practiced routine by this point. The rush, the influx of customers and orders, and of course, the Karens. Seeing as you were the owner of the establishment, you got to choose how to deal with these difficult customers as you saw fit.
The perks of being the boss.
Leaning in, you whispered in her ear. “Go into the back and take a break. I got this.” She nodded and thanked you, slipping past you and through the back door as you turned to greet the customer in front of you. “Sorry about that,” you said softly as you exited the program on the computer and rebooted it.
“It’s her first Christmas working with us,” you explained. “How can I help you?”
The man in front of you rolled his eyes and you could already tell what kind of interaction you were about to have. “Maybe this place should hire competent workers,” the man snapped angrily. You kept the smile on your face. “We do hire competent workers,” you replied. “But we’re all human and we all get overwhelmed and stressed from time to time.”
The man scoffed. “It’s unprofessional.”
The smile finally slipped from your face. “It’s unprofessional to be a human being?” you asked, a hint of confused annoyance to your voice. “It’s unprofessional to get emotional at work. It’s a place of business.” You narrowed your eyes. “And it’s childish to berate and scream and curse at an eighteen year old girl,” you snapped back, taking the man by surprise.
“How dare you speak to me like that,” he said indignantly, puffing up with an air of superiority. “I want to speak to your manager!” ‘Ah… the magic words,’ you thought to yourself, smiling inwardly. “I’m sorry, sir,” you replied. “The manager isn’t here right now.”
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Mingyu cursed to himself as he walked, tripping over the curb but thankfully didn’t fall. He continued to the back passenger door of his car, opening it before leaning down to grab the paper sacks, balancing them precariously in his arms as he attempted to close the door with his hip.
Only once it clicked shut and the car beeped, signaling it locked, did Mingyu walk away, heading down the sidewalk towards the bakery. He’d gone to grab some last minute supplies as you had run out of a few spices and some extracts. He’d also grabbed the stuff to whip up a pre-Christmas Eve dinner for you and your workers.
He cursed the busy sidewalk and businesses lining the street for making him park so far away and having to walk the rest of the way to the bakery. He knew the place was busy but he didn’t realize how busy it was going to be.
Upon reaching the bakery, he swore under his breath as he realized his hands were no longer free to open the door and let himself in. Lucky for him, a patron chose that exact moment to exit, their purchases in their hands. They held the door for him, allowing him to enter the establishment. Mingyu thanked them and hurried in where the crowd seemed to have doubled in size.
As he reached the counter, he set the bags down, opening the small door before grabbing the bags and moving to the back where he set them down, looking around. He caught the eye of one of your bakers and gestured at the bags. “Could you unload these for me. I’m gonna pop up front and help Y/N,”
The baker, Geoffrey, nodded and moved over to the table as Mingyu shrugged out of his coat, hung it up, and grabbed an apron, tying it on before heading out into the store front where he saw you standing at the register, arguing with an older man who was red in the face.
Mingyu walked over, ready to launch over the counter at the man who was currently shouting at his wife.
“What’s going on here?” Mingyu asked, announcing his arrival. The man looked up from you, giving Mingyu a once over. A smile of relief spread over your face. “Perfect,” you said. “Here’s the manager,” you said, turning back to the man and stepping away from the terminal to help the next guest while Mingyu took your place.
“What seems to be the problem, sir?” Mingyu asked, knowing before the man even spoke what he would be dealing with. It was a sort of code between the two of you, calling him the manager was just a way of setting up the rude customers to realize the consequences of their actions.
Most of the time, when Mingyu entered the equation, they would demand that you be fired for being incompetent or rude or refusing to give a discount. It often led to hilarity when Mingyu, keeping up with the charade, would insist he can’t do that before revealing that you were the owner.
Which is what he was prepared to do but he didn’t have the chance when the red-faced man spoke.
“I’ve never been treated so poorly in an establishment in all my life!” he shouted, drawing the attention of most of the customers, some who were already recording the exchange on their phones. “I’m friends with the owner! I should call him and tell him what an awful bunch of employees he’s allowing to run his business.
Mingyu kept the fake smile on his face. “Oh, you know the owner?” Mingyu asked, to which the man nodded, pulling his phone out. “I’ll call him right now!” he threatened. Mingyu shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he started, picking up the phone. “I’ve got the owner on speed dial,” he added, pushing a series of buttons. He waited for the first ring before handing the phone to the man.
“It’s ringing,” he said. “You can talk to the owner yourself.” The man snatched the phone and held it to his ear, grumbling about finally getting real service. Mingyu waited by the terminal, apologizing to the customers waiting patiently behind the man.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and apologized to the customer in front of you. She was a regular so she understood that when the boss’ phone rings, the boss had to answer it. You checked the screen and saw it was the number for the store calling you. Resisting the urge to smile, you excused yourself to the customer and swiped the green button, bringing the device to your ear.
“Hello?” you asked, glancing over to where Mingyu stood, giving you a devilish smile, the irate man holding your store phone to his ear. “Yeah,” the man snapped. “I want to speak to the owner of this bakery. Where is he?” Still fighting back that smile, you responded.
“Oh, that’s me. I’m the owner!”
The man looked up from the phone, turning his head to lock eyes with you. He then pulled the phone from his ear and looked at Mingyu. “What is this? She’s the one who was rude to me!” Mingyu took the phone from the man, hanging it up. “Yeah,” Mingyu replied. “She’s the owner. If you’re going to lie about knowing the owner, at least do your research about the place you’re trying to scam,” Mingyu said, looking up at the man, his smile now gone. “Also, you’re lucky I love my wife too much to cause a scene in her establishment. So either we can start over from the top and you can be nice or you can get out and never come back,” Mingyu said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“It’s your choice.”
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“Thank you, come again!” you called, waving as the last of the patrons exited and you walked over to flip the sign, turning the lock on the door and turned around to look at Mingyu who was counting the drawer. You walked over with a sigh, giving Amara a smile as she started to sweep.
“Thank you for handling that customer,” Amara said softly. “He reminded me of my dad and I just couldn’t…” she trailed off. You placed a comforting hand on her back. “It’s alright, Amara,” you told her. “I don’t deal with customers like that. I give them one chance to start over and if they don’t, they don’t get served. I’m not going to let customers walk all over me or my employees.”
“Babe,” Mingyu called, making you look in his direction. “Can you take over for me? I’m gonna get started on that dinner.” You nodded, moving around to the backside of the counter and over to the terminal. “Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek and disappearing into the back.
You started counting, adding to his progress as Amara continued to sweep. She reached the counter and glanced at the door before leaning on the counter. “Miss Y/N?” she asked, making you look up with wide eyes. You hadn’t noticed she’d gotten so close. “Yes?”
“It might be a little personal but can I ask you something?” You nodded as you finished counting the drawer and shut the drawer, keeping the till in your hands. “What’s it like, being married to the nicest, most handsome guy in the world?”
You let out a laugh at her question. You weren’t laughing at her, just at the wording. “Don’t let Mingyu hear you say that,” you said softly. “It’ll fan his ego even more.” Amara smiled but waited for your answer all the same. “Being married to Mingyu is like having a massive, overly excited golden retriever but it can talk. He’s nice and always happy,” you explained.
“But he’s also clumsy, loyal, honest, and trustworthy,” you continued, shifting your weight to your other foot. “He’s a people pleaser,” you added. “Always wanting to help or be involved in some way, which is why he’s making dinner for the staff right now.” Amara’s smile widened.
“You really hit the jackpot, didn’t you?” she asked in a dreamy voice. You smiled, nodding. “I certainly did,” you replied, making your way over to the door to the back. “Taking the kitchen assistant position at summer camp when I was in culinary school was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.” Amara tilted her head. “Why’s that?” she asked.
“That’s where I met Mingyu.”
Amara went back to her sweeping while you entered the kitchen, eyes landing on your husband as he stood at the stove, a steaming saucepan on one of the back burners as he stirred something in a skillet. You tore your gaze from him, heading for the office instead to finish up your closing duties.
As you separate the cash transactions, resetting the drawer to its starting amount and putting the sales away in the safe. Shutting the door, you returned to your desk to finish up some paperwork you’d been putting off. As you were filing it away, you heard a knock on the door and looked up at one of your employees. “Hey, is it alright if I take off? My wife and the baby are waiting for me for Christmas Eve dinner and I really don’t wanna keep them waiting.” You smiled up at them.
“Sure, Candy,” you answered. “Make sure to take one of the extra pies on the counter. And tell Bethany I said hello,” you added. Candy smiled at you, thanking you as they headed back into the kitchen. You heard them call out a holiday parting to Mingyu who repeated the sentiment.
Getting up from the desk, you walked over to the door and peered into the kitchen. Mingyu was plating the finished food and looked up as you entered the kitchen. “Candy just left,” he announced, returning his gaze to his work. “I know,” you replied, walking over to where he stood.
“I told her to take one of the pies,” you added. Mingyu looked up at you before looking at the counter where the pies stood. “I hope they didn’t take the cherry one,” he pouted as he went back to his work. You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning against the counter.
“The cherry is already put away for us.” you replied, smiling when your husband looked up at you with excited eyes. He finished spooning sauce onto the food and returned the skillet to the stove. “So,” you started, looking down at the plates. There were four of them. “What have you made for us today, Chef?”
Mingyu moved back, standing in front of you, his hands landing on your hips. “I like it when you call me that,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “Makes me feel all tingly.” You pushed him back playfully. “Alright, pervert,” you replied as Amara and one of your chefs, Finn, walked into the kitchen. “Dinner is served,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Mingyu.
“Tell them what you’ve made,” you added, turning to face Amara and Finn.
They were your two youngest employees. Amara was still in high school but wanted to become a pastry chef like you and Finn. Her parents were both successful in business and from what Amara let on, they weren’t very involved in her life except financially so she had come to see you as sort of an authority figure, likening you to the older sister she never had.
Finn, on the other hand, had moved across the country, settling in this town and finding work at your bakery the year it opened. Finn’s family were back in his hometown and he could never afford to fly home to see them so you had always made sure to make it known he was welcome to spend the holidays with you and Mingyu.
“I have made for you, pan-seared duck breast with a peppercorn cream sauce and roasted garlic butter parmesan potatoes,” he announced, gesturing at the plates. “And!” he added, rushing over to the fridge, opening it and disappearing for a moment to emerge with two unopened bottles of red wine.
“Could you grab the glasses for me?” Mingyu asked and you shook your head, walking over to your office to grab four glasses. Amara looked nervously from the bottle of wine to you and back. “Am I… allowed to have wine?” she asked softly. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”
You smiled as you returned. “This one,” you said, tapping one of the bottles on the lid. “Is my favorite wine and is a non-alcoholic wine by Leitz.” You could see the relief wash over Amara’s face. “And this one is a Jacques Bourguignon,” Mingyu added, tapping the other bottle. “It does have alcohol.”
You rolled your eyes as you opened the bottle of Leitz, pouring a glass for yourself and one for Amara as Mingyu opened and poured a glass of the Bourguignon for Finn and himself. The four of you stood in the kitchen, sipping on your wines and cutting into your food.
“This is amazing!” Amara said with a sigh. “I had no idea you could cook so well!” Laughter burst out of you as you sat on the counter, nursing your glass of non-alcoholic wine. Finn doubled over, clutching his stomach in laughter as Mingyu looked slightly offended.
Amara glanced from you to Finn, confusion on her face. “What did I say?” she asked, pouting. You patted her shoulder from your spot. “Mingyu is a chef,” you answered. Amara’s eyes widened comically as she started sputtering an apology. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea! I thought he was just really good at cooking!” You stifled more laughter with a sip of your wine.
Mingyu shook his head. “It’s okay,” he replied. “I don’t really talk about it much,” he continued. “But I actually own a restaurant.” Amara’s eyes widened even more as she started apologizing again. “It’s okay!” Mingyu reassured her and you smiled fondly, watching your husband comfort the poor girl.
After eating, Finn headed out after you refused to let him do the dishes, telling him you and Mingyu had it covered. You headed back into the office to check your calendar and finish the rest of your paperwork while Mingyu and Amara worked on cleaning up the kitchen.
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At about half past 7, you decided you were done with your office duties. Anything you didn’t finish today you could finish the day after Christmas. You stretched your arms, flexing your fingers before getting up and opening the door to see how Mingyu and Amara were getting on.
“Have you finished cleaning up,” you asked, peering into the kitchen to see your husband standing at the counter. He looked up, meeting your gaze. “Not yet,” Mingyu answered, lowering his gaze back down to the bowl of frosting on the counter. “I sent Amara home,” he added, glancing back up as you entered the kitchen, moving over to stand beside him and starting to collect the decorating tools.
“Her parents are hosting a party so I said we can manage,” Mingyu continued. “Hope that was okay,” he added and you nodded, looking up at him. “Of course,” you replied, looking back down as you gathered the icing bags and tips. “I don’t mind cleaning up the kitchen with my husband.”
Mingyu’s smile widened, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Besides,” you continued, dropping the tools in the hot soapy water and moving back to grab the silicone spatulas. “If she was here I couldn’t do this,” you added, swiping your finger over the spatula you just grabbed, the tip coated in white chocolate sauce. You turned to your husband, reaching up to spread the sauce on his cheek, letting out a giggle as you licked your finger clean.
Mingyu snorted, reaching a hand up to wipe up your mess but you stopped him, pulling his face to yours before licking the sweet confectionary off his skin. “Yah,” Mingyu whined as you pulled back and licked your lips. “I guess it’s a good thing I sent her home,” he continued.
“If she had seen that, I would have been very embarrassed.”
You rolled your eyes and moved to take the other silicone spatula, scooping some of the chocolate sauce on your finger. When Mingyu wasn’t paying attention, you dabbed some onto his face, smearing it near the corner of his mouth.
“Stop,” he chuckled, grabbing the spatula. “I’m gonna be all sticky.”
You snorted into a giggle as you fought your husband for dominance over the spatula. Mingyu took his chance to smear some chocolate sauce on your face, laughing when you stared at him in stunned silence. “Gotcha!” he chuckled. You pulled the spatula free and started to advance on him.
“No!” he squealed, running from you, his long legs helping him cross the kitchen quickly. You on the other hand were just fast, catching up to him and cornering him against the corner counters. “I was just returning the favor!” he whined as you wiggled your fingers, the tip of your index still covered in white chocolate.
“Here,” you said, holding out your hand. “Even the playing field.” You offered your finger with the chocolate sauce on it. Mingyu stared at the spatula in your hand, breathing a sigh of relief when you tossed it into the sink nearby. Mingyu took your hand, pulling it towards his face and sticking your finger in his mouth, cleaning the chocolate off your skin.
The action was one you’d done many times, letting him lick everything from whipped cream to cheese sauce from your finger. He was never one to turn down having your fingers in his mouth. The pent up frustration from the day pushed you to pull your hand from his mouth, grabbing the front of his smock and pulling him into a heated kiss, tasting the chocolate on his tongue.
You pulled back after a moment, your lungs burning and screaming for air. Mingyu turned your head, immediately licking off the frosting on your cheek slowly, taking his time to savor it. You let out a groan, feeling one of his hands wander down, fingers squeezing your ass.
“Your turn,” you whispered, your voice slightly hoarse as you tilted his hand and licked the frosting from his face, ending in a sloppy kiss that tasted like a mix of white and milk chocolate sauces.
“We should probably finish closing up,” you murmured as Mingyu pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah,” he replied breathlessly. “We probably should.”
Despite agreeing, neither one of you moved first until Mingyu’s hands wandered up, cupping your chest. “Or,” he offered, pulling back to look into your eyes. “We can finish off these sauces before we let the bowls soak.” You studied his face, looking into his eyes before coming to a conclusion.
“Okay,” you replied. “Go make sure the front door is locked,” you ordered.
Mingyu was off like a cannon, rushing to the storefront to make sure the door was locked, neon sign turned off before he returned to the kitchen as you were pulling out another steel bowl from the fridge and the leftover strawberries. You turned as he started to untie his apron.
“I figure we can eat some of this stuff with the leftover fruit,” you explained, showing him the bowl and the basket of strawberries. Mingyu flashed you a wide grin as you walked over to the counter and set your finds on the metal surface, moving to untie your apron.
You felt your husbands nimble fingers tug at the knots and help you remove the article. You turned, thanking him with a kiss before taking both yours and his aprons over to the hamper and tossing them in. You returned to Mingyu, hopping up onto the counter and picking up a strawberry. You dipped it into the chocolate and held it up for Mingyu.
He smirked, parting his lips and allowing you to push the chocolate covered fruit in his mouth. Mingyu dipped a piece of melon in the cream cheese frosting, holding it up for you to take it. You parted your lips slowly, keeping your gaze locked on his as you leaned forward, taking the fruit in your mouth.
You noticed the way your husband’s eye lingered on your lips, even after you pulled back with a grin.
The two of you continued to feed one another fruit and chocolate sauce. As you leaned back, holding yourself up with one of your hands, Mingyu leaned in, taking your lips in a measured kiss. Your lips parted and you felt his tongue along with chocolate sauce spill into your mouth.
“Come here,” Mingyu murmured, hands reaching up to undo the buttons on your chef smock, his lips meeting yours once more. Once he managed to undo the last button, he pushed the fabric aside, groaning as he buried his face into your chest, immediately kissing at your skin.
“This needs to come off,” he growled, pulling back just enough to undo the front closure on your bra and pull it off of you along with your smock. You groaned, back arching into his touch as you felt his mouth close around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around the bud.
You leaned back, one hand tangling in the mess of his black locks while the other supported your body. Mingyu pulled back, reaching over to grab a strawberry which he dipped in white chocolate sauce and promptly started to trail up your body from your navel. He smeared the sauce up your stomach and between your breasts, stopping to spread some over your nipple before holding the strawberry to your lips. You took it, moaning as his head ducked down to your stomach, licking up the path of the sauce.
Your thighs tightened around his waist as his tongue brushed over your nipple, taking it into his mouth to suck off the chocolate. Mingyu pulled back, moving back up to kiss you again, his hands fumbling with the ties on your pants. “What about you?” you whined. Mingyu chuckled as he pulled your pants down, thanking you when you lifted your hips to assist him.
“You’ll get your turn,” he murmured. “Lay down,” he instructed. You did as he asked, moaning as he kissed his way down your stomach, lips meeting the band of your panties. He stopped to glance up, meeting your gaze before he continued to kiss over the thin lace.
You moaned out his name, spreading your thighs wider as you felt his tongue press against you, only the black lace separating his tongue from where you wanted it the most. “F-ah! Fuck, baby,” you whimpered as you felt Mingyu leaned more into it, heat from his mouth spreading through your soaked panties.
“Just take them off, please!”
Mingyu pulled your panties down your legs, dropping them with the rest of your clothes. His head was back between your thighs quickly, tongue flicking rapidly against your clit as he held your thighs open. Your back arched off the counter, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to push his head closer.
Mingyu groaned as you tugged on his hair, the sound vibrating against your cunt and sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. “Oh shit,” you gasped, eyes rolling shut as Mingyu licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves. The slurping sounds, coupled with your mewls and his groans against your pussy filled the room. It was so lewd and almost vile. You’d have to remember to sanitize and sterilize this station before opening back up on the 27th.
Mingyu’s fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs as he held your thighs open, tongue and lips messily moving against your cunt. “So good,” you breathed out, combing your fingers through his hair. You felt one of his hands slide up your body to grope at your chest, kneading gently as he continued to suckle.
“M’close,” you warned suddenly, feeling the tension in your body build, ready to snap at any moment. Instead of pulling away and letting you fall back from the edge, Mingyu drove you over it, tongue flicking in quick motions against your clit, groaning at the taste as you came, your juices flowing out of your pulsating hole.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” you groaned, fingers in Mingyu’s hair tightening as you held his head still, your hips moving of their own accord, grinding yourself on his tongue as you rode out your high. Mingyu pulled away much too soon for your liking and as you were about to protest, he pressed his lips against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth.
“Tastes so good, baby,” he groaned against your lips. “Tastes better than anything,” he murmured as he pulled back. “Y-your turn,” you stammered, trying to sit up but Mingyu held you down. “Later, angel,” he replied. “Let me just fuck you real good.”
You shook your head, pushing him back as you sat up. You made quick work of his shirt, tossing it aside as you turned your head to the chocolate sauce and dipped a piece of fruit into it, bringing it up to Mingyu’s lips before dipping a finger into the same sauce and smearing it across his chest and some down his stomach.
You slid from the counter, lowering yourself to lick the sauce from his skin. Mingyu let out a groan. You stood back up, grinning at him for a moment before grabbing the bowl of chocolate sauce and dropping to your knees. Mingyu watched as you undid the button on his jeans and pulled them down along with his underwear, almost groaning yourself as his cock sprang free.
He was fully erect, tip red and leaking as you let his pants and underwear pool at his ankles. You dipped your finger in the chocolate sauce and carefully spread it along the underside of his cock, licking your finger clean before grabbing the base of his shaft and lifting his cock.
Mingyu’s eyes fluttered shut as you licked a strip up his cock, cleaning the chocolate before swallowing. You then make sure to clean it all up before taking all of him in your mouth quickly. Your husband let out a groan, one hand moving to brace himself against the counter behind you while the other moved to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
“Fuck, that’s it baby,” he groaned, hips starting to move in tandem with the bobbing of your head. You let go of his cock, placing both hands on his thighs as you let him guide your movements. His cock hit the back of your throat, filling the room with a wet, lewd gagging sound. You pulled back, looking up at him.
Mingyu could have cum from the sight alone, you naked on your knees, looking up at him with glossy eyes, saliva starting to spill down your chin. “Fuck my face,” you gasped hoarsely. Mingyu didn’t need to hear it again, grabbing your head and guiding your lips to the tip of his cock.
He let out a moan as your head sank further, his cock gliding back into your mouth. He started slowly, giving a few measured thrusts before setting a steady pace, pumping in and out of your mouth. Each pull back, you allowed your tongue to swirl around the head of his cock until he stopped pulling out entirely. You gagged around him as he thrust into your mouth.
Your hands moved up to his hips, pulling him in as you tried to take all of his cock. “Oh fuck,” you heard him groan as the head of his cock slipped into your throat. You gagged around his cock, throat constricting as you tried to swallow. “Ah, shit!” he hissed. He pulled your head back, allowing air to fill your lungs again as his cock twitched.
Your hand moved back, fingers wrapping around him as you continued the momentum, stroking him quickly, spitting onto the head of his cock to add to the lubrication. “Fuck, fuck! Stop, baby!” He moaned, hand wrapping around your wrist. “I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop!”
You gave the head of his cock a light lick, giggling and looking up at him. Mingyu groaned at the sight and grabbed your wrist, tugging you up gently. “Up,” he ordered, helping you back up to the counter before he grabbed his cup of ice water.
“What’re you doing?” you asked, watching as he pulled the lid off and took a tip, tipping his head back. When he lowered the cup, he set it aside, leaving the lid off. In his teeth, he held an ice cube. He leaned forward, leaving open mouth kisses along your collar and chest with the ice cube gliding over your skin easily.
A chill went up your spine, nipples peaking as his mouth moved closer. You let out a gasp, feeling the icy liquid against the sensitive skin of your areolas. Mingyu swirled his tongue, allowing the melting ice cube to move around your nipple.
He pulled back, grabbing the cup and dumping more ice into his mouth. He kissed down your stomach, pushing you flat on your back as his head dipped between your thighs. You felt the ice against your clit and gasped loudly. His tongue toyed with your clit, the cold sensation contrasting with the heat radiating from between your legs.
Mingyu pulled back, swallowing down the ice. You sat up, grabbing his cup and dumped some ice into your mouth, pushing him back as you sucked on the cube. You lowered yourself, to your knees, fisting his cock before guiding the head back to your mouth.
Mingyu groaned out, pounding his hand against the metal counter as your cold mouth took more and more of his hot cock. You bobbed your head a few times, allowing the melting ice to rub along the underside of his cock.
“F-fuck,” he shivered. “Get up here,” he growled, pulling your head back and guiding you back to your feet. “On the counter.” You must not have moved fast enough for him because he turned you away, pushing you over the counter as he guided the head of his cock to your dripping entrance.
You felt him rub the tip around your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it. You felt him rub his cock against you, rutting against your ass and dragging the underside of his shaft through your folds. “M’gonna fuck you so good,” you heard him groan, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance again before taking your hips in his hands and pushing in.
You mewled, your walls stretching to accommodate the head of his cock. He stilled for a moment, panting as he tried to hold back but the way you wiggled your hips made it harder and harder and soon, he was bracing himself, fingers tightening on your waist before plunging his cock into you with one thrust.
The sudden intrusion caused you to cry out in both pain and pleasure, the ache and sting of the stretch pairing with the pleasure of feeling him filling you raw with his thick cock. “Lift this,” he urged, grabbing the back of your thigh and guiding your leg up, knee bent as he pushed your chest against the steel.
“Stay just like that,” he groaned, moving his hand back to your waist. He thrust into you, pulling back only slightly before thrusting again, setting a steady rhythm. He looked down, watching his cock sink into your cunt repeatedly, groaning at the sight of your juices already coating his shaft.
“That’s right,” he scoffed when you moaned loudly, fingers curling into a fist as you tried to brace yourself against his thrusts. “Only I fuck you this good, don’t I?” he groaned. You moaned in response, back arching as his hips started to slap against your ass.
“You like it when I stuff you full of this cock, don’t you?” he asked. You nodded, head dropping as you lost yourself in the pleasure. “Y-yes!” you gasped out. “Love it when you fuck my tight pussy with your big cock, Mingyu!”
You were stroking his ego but then again, your husband had pretty good thrust and hip game when it came to sex. He always left you feeling more than satisfied. “That’s right,” he retorted. “You’re such a little slut for me.”
Your walls clenched around him before you started to push back to meet his thrusts. The sudden action had him doubling over your back with a deep groan. “Mm, fuck!” you growled. “Oh shit. I love it when you do that,” Mingyu gasped. “Love it when you fuck yourself on my cock. Keep going, baby.”
You felt him slow his movements but you kept the momentum going, fucking yourself back on his cock, gasping and moaning as the tip nudged your cervix with each thrust. “Oh fuck, yeah,” Mingyu moaned, hands moving to the counter on either side of you, holding him up.
“Keep going,” he continued. “Fuck yourself. Use me like your own person fuck toy,” he added. “Oh god, Mingyu!” you whimpered, thighs shaking as your ass hit Mingyu’s hips with each thrust. “Call me your dirty little fuck toy,” Mingyu pleaded, his voice becoming breathless as he met your movements.
“You think you can tell me what to do?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “You’re my fucking slut,” you growled back. “Begging me to fuck your cock like some kind of whore.” Mingyu’s cock twitched, a groan escaping him. He made no attempt to move his hands, content to let you move at your own pace for now.
“Good, look at you,” you continued. “Willing to let me use that thick cock to get myself off.”
“How pathetic.”
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quickly. “I’ll be good,” he added. “Just keep using me.”
You scoffed, turning your head to look back forward. “I want you to fuck me,” you retorted. “I want you to fuck me hard. Make me scream. Make my legs shake. Make it so I can’t stand tomorrow.”
You felt his hands on your hips. “You sure, angel?” you heard him whisper. You nodded. “Yes,” you replied. “Fuck me, Mingyu. Fuck me hard.” Mingyu didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing your hips hard as he slammed into you from behind, a gasp ripping from your throat.
He set a relentless pace, pounding into you from behind as he drove both of you towards orgasm. “Your cock is so big, Gyu,” you moaned, cheek pressed against the cool metallic surface. “Feels so good. Feel it so deep.” “God, yes, Gyu. Please,” you whined.
“Please give it to me. Give it all to me,” you continued, his cock starting to twitch rapidly, each drag of your walls raw against his cock sending him further and further towards the edge. “F-fuck!” he gasped. “M’gonna cum, baby,” he warned. “Where you want it baby?” Mingyu asked, glancing down at you.
“Inside me. Just cum inside me, Gyu. Fill me up with your cum.”
He groaned, leaning over your back and sinking his teeth into your shoulder, sucking against your skin as his hips slammed into you, his release washing over him. Thick ropes of cum spilled inside you, painting your walls in white.
Mingyu rode out both your highs, thrusting sloppily into you as he forced his cum further into you. When his hips finally came to a halt, he let out a breathy chuckle and pushed himself up, looking down at the indentation of his teeth in your shoulder. He pulled back to see where his cock disappeared inside you, the base of it coated in his cum.
He internally winced as he pulled out, both from the sudden change and from the sight of his cum spilling out of your abused cunt. He gathered some of it with his fingers, pushing it back into you. “Keep that in there,” he said playfully as he looked down at your pussy.
“We need to finish cleaning up,” he murmured, moving to grab a clean kitchen towel and wet it before wiping your thighs and sex clean. He helped you back into your clothes before pulling his own on. You cleaned up the rest of the leftover chocolate sauce and fruit, dumping the bowls into the soapy water that was surprisingly still hot.
Mingyu washed the dishes while you cleaned and sanitized the counter you’d defiled. Once the dishes were clean and you were certain the countertop was sterilized, you returned to his side, sighing as he pulled you into his warm embrace. “Can we go now?” he asked softly, tilting your head back so he could kiss you.
You smiled against his lips, pulling back to nod and answer him. “Yes. We’re done and we can finally leave.” Mingyu’s lips spread into a wide grin. “Perfect,” he responded, taking your hand and pressing it against his growing erection. “Again?” you asked incredulously. He nodded with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“I’m not done with you just yet.”
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