#knowing we like the rolled up arm sleeves .....

[pyxxiestyxx]

Class-D

"Umm....?"

You stare at the affini sitting across from you, who is sipping casually from a large mug of tea.  She had grown close to you over the last year, but the last few weeks in particular had been...more?  She suddenly seemed intent on pushing you towards florethood, and more specifically towards one of the more...simple lifestyles.

'There are as many ways to be a floret as there are florets', as the saying goes.  You considered yourself an outgoing and independent type, one who had (with effort and support) gone far, despite any neurodivergencies that often ground progress to a slow crawl.  But the way Ea would look at you...the things she said...well, like what she JUST said, for example.

"I'm merely suggesting that you give it a try, dear.  No contracts, no implants...unless you want those.  I'm referring to something a bit simpler."

You frown, crossing your arms.  "And what exactly do you have in mind, Ea?"

A brilliantly red flower blossoms before your lips, the needles tip glistening green.  "I give you a Class-D, of course.  One that prevents those pesky inhibitions and falsehoods from getting in the way.  And then you and I can chat a little, and I may ask you to do a few things, to see if they make you feel good.  Is that really so dangerous, sweetie?"

"I..." Yes, of course it was...was what you wanted to say.  But if it really was just a Class-D, then it wouldnt change your mind.  They were there to reveal the truth, and the truth of the matter was that you were capable and competent, and it's about time she figured that out.  Sighing, you roll up your sleeve and extend your arm, wincing as the injection slips into your skin.  The verdant drug travels up your arm and to your brain, and an....interesting feeling seems to settle on you.  Not the fresh-out-of-a-dryer blanket of a Class-A, but a slightly warm sheet, perhaps.  You blink a few times, then look at Ea expectantly.

She gently snaps her fingers at you, then points at the floor next to her seat.  "No no, darling.  We aren't going to one-half ass it here.  I intend to show you what I mean, through actions as much as words."

You gawk at her, blushing furiously.  "But...but I don't want to do that!"

"Why?"

"It's embarrassing!"

Ea tilts her head, a coy look passing through violet eyes.  "The only one who thinks it is embarrassing is you, petal.  No one else in this case will care in the least, and you already know what I think you need." She smiles. "If it helps, just think of it as me...coercing you into it.  If anyone asks, you can explain that you didn't have a choice here."

You squint your eyes at her, but your gaze soon follows her arm down to her pointed finger.  Crumbs, she really was serious.  You look around the cafe again, noting how the others weren't even looking your way.

Blushing, you let yourself go limp, flowing off the lip of the seat and into a kneel as you shuffle towards her spot.  When you arrive, you keep your gaze firmly fixed to the left, your hands grasping themselves out of a need to hold onto something.

You wait for her to speak...but she stays silent.  She waits until you give in, until you sneak a glance at her, and only then does she cup your cheek in one large hand as she whispers, "Good Pet."

"I...y-you...it-" she slides her hand over your mouth, preventing the words from haphazardly tumbling out.

"Sweetheart, I said we would chat.  I never said you would get to use people words~"

The hand returns to your cheek, a thumb gently brushing across your lips as she smiles triumphantly.  "Now then, pet.  You are a wonderfully skilled sophont, make no mistake.  But a trained pet is still a pet, honey.  And not everything trained into you is Good."

You open your mouth to protest...only to let the words die in your throat at the warning in her eyes.  Instead, the softest little slip of a whimper manages to drip from your tongue.

Ea smiles wider, her other hand joining the first on your head as she begins to pet you, long firm pulls of her fingers through your hair.  "You know that you push yourself too hard, don't you?  That you keep moving, because the inertia is part of how you stay upright.  You need the constant motion, because you're worried that as soon as you slow down, you'll topple over and shatter."

You try to deny it.  You try to disprove it.  But in the end, you are forced to admit it to yourself:

She's right.

She gently brushed a tear from the corner of your eye, softer than the petals of her flowers.  "But that needn't happen, honey.  Not if you have an Owner to care for you, and hold you close, and keep you safe.  You know this too, don't you?"

You did.  You do.  And it hurts.  And it heals.

Your eyes make a desperate plea towards her, though for what, you aren't sure.  She seemed to be waiting for it, though, because her eyes glow golden ichor.  "And so, since you are being honest with me, I shall be in turn with you.  I will not wait a single second longer to give you what you want, need, crave.  You are my pet, honey.  I will Own you, I will train you, I will condition away any independence and wrestle your thoughts into simple submission.  And, in the end, you will thank me for it."

Her hand brushes one last time over your head as it makes its way to the back of your neck, tracing a line where you know the implant will soon reside.  You shudder as she presses down, down, Down, pushing your face into her vines as you finally are honest with yourself and admit what you realize you always wanted, always needed.

You surrender.

[super-ion]

The Engineer

Part 3

(Part 1 | Part 2)

I had jacked in. Unauthorized. Unbidden.

When I finally disconnected from Morrigan's tender embrace, the reality of my situation had come slamming into me.

I had used my access to a multi billion dollar war machine for my own personal ends. I had risked my job, my career, my fucking life maybe... and for what? A bad dream?

I returned to my quarters, mechanically showered and ate breakfast and reported to my station, all but certain that security would arrive at any minute to quietly escort me out of the facility to a hole somewhere no one would ever see me again.

But they never came.

Despite the anomalous access logs, they never came.

Burning the midnight oil? one of the techs had asked jokingly.

Fuck.

They all fucking knew I had been there, but it never crossed any of their minds what I was really doing.

Once that initial panic abated, a whole new kind of terror set in.

Command might be fooled. Security and the techs might be fooled. But there's one person who knows. There's one other person who has the kind of access to Morrigan that I do.

Fuck fuck fuck.

No. She doesn't have the same access I do. I'm the fucking interloper here. It's her fucking machine. She has deeper access than I ever could. Morrigan was tailor made for her pilot. All the while, the pilot was broken and remade to forge connections I could only ever dream of. They're two halves of a whole. They can't hide anything from each other even if they wanted to.

It takes three days before the moment I have been dreading finally crystallizes into sharp reality.

I sit alone in a corner of the cafeteria, as I always do. I poke listlessly at something that I think is supposed to be fruit cocktail. I have read the same paragraph on my datapad three times already. I have just started on my fourth attempt when a figure slides onto the bench across from me.

I know exactly who it is before I glance halfway up to see the long slender fingers, one hand tapping restlessly, the other clenching a spoon as she surveys the mess of nutrient gel that they serve pilots. The sleeves of her sweatshirt are rolled up, revealing the skinsuit over skeletal arms.

I can't bring myself to do more than that quick glance at her hands.

I remember those piercing ice blue eyes… jesus fuck, it's only been three weeks since that moment we passed in the access corridor, when those eyes had pinned me in place.

I imagine those eyes boring into me now.

I know she's been to see Morrigan. The two of them had a training sim yesterday. They have another one in a couple of hours.

Her spoon scrapes against the cheap plastic of the bowl. The nutrient paste makes a sickening wet sound as it rises.

I am frozen in place. I can't leave. I can't read my datapad. I can't even pretend to eat any more.

The thing they never reveal in the propaganda vids is just how frail pilots are. The training, the conditioning, the hours and hours jacked into the machine being pumped full of a cocktail of artificial stress and reward hormones, they all ravage the body. The figure seated across from me can't be more than half my weight. In a stand up fight, I could probably break her in half.

I'm fucking terrified of her. I can barely breath as she takes another spoonful of gel.

The skin around the ports on my rig itch. Like my rig itself knows how inadequate it is in comparison to hers.

The spoon comes to rest on the tray alongside her bowl. She says nothing. Even in silence, she's a creature of action, unable to remain still. Her leg bounces just slightly. Her fingers tap out a complicated rhythm.

I force myself to look up, to meet her gaze.

The eyes are sharp. Sharper and clearer than I remembered when they wheeled her past me. But it is that same intensity that I remember.

She isn't smiling. She isn't frowning either. Her expression isn't doing much of anything, like she's forgotten how to express like a human being. Beneath the restless energy, she looks tired, all sunken cheeks and shadowed eyes, with a sickly pallor to her skin.

She looks like a pilot. If I hadn't broken, if I hadn't washed out, it is what I would have looked like.

An image flashes through my mind unbidden. I see us swapped. Me: hard, broken, tired. Her: soft, muscular, healthy… lonely.

The feeling washes over me, that horrible familiar, desperate loneliness.

She twitches, head cocking slightly as she sees something in my expression.

Oh… oh fuck.

She knows.

I had been so fucking scared of being caught out that I never considered how much had actually been revealed, how much of my aching soul left its mark in that cockpit like so many greasy fingerprints.

I have dreamed Morrigan's dreams. I have caught myself humming snatches of her song.

Neural bleed.

It always comes back to fucking neural bleed. Limited as my rig is, Morrigan has been in my head just as I have been in hers… and Morrigan is half of a whole.

The woman sitting across from me doesn't just recognize my face, she has seen the very core of me.

I let out a ragged breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding.

When she finally does speak, her voice is husky murmur, hoarse from disuse.

“We should talk,” she says.

I nod weakly.

[nubiawrites]

chapter five

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. oral (giving and receiving). alcohol. talks of safe sex.

Summary: Aaron and Iriye have a nightcap, tensions being released as new connections are formed.

Notes: Everyone say thank you to GQ and Aaron's sleeve. I told you all the next chapter would be worth it. Enjoy and let me know what you think

MASTERLIST

Aaron's fingers drummed steadily against the wheel as he drove Iriye and himself back to his place. The Bluetooth in his card played some Sade as Aaron drove them in comfortable silence. 

This was not Iriye's first one-night stand, but it was with someone like Aaron—a collaborator, an artist, an actor. As they inched closer to his place, her anxiety got the best of her.

"I've never done this before," Iriye blurted out. Aaron had parked the car in the parking garage of his apartment, and he paused.

"Like had sex?" Aaron raised both eyebrows, and Iriye swatted his arm. 

"I've had sex. Trust me," Iriye sighed. "I don't sleep with talent. I never have,"

"Okay," He nodded.

"Because I respect you. And I love my job. And I love this project. And I don't make this a habit," Iriye rambled.

Aaron just smirked as she kept talking, seeing the defenses fall. She was always so sharp and on it, and he liked that, but this made her more endearing.

"What are you thinking?" Iriye asked. "Because if it is and I'm crazy, I will happily Uber home, and we can just—" He cut her off by leaning in for a kiss. The movement took her aback, but she ultimately relaxed into the gentle and sweet kiss. 

Iriye pulled back once fully relaxed and hummed, her eyes opening to look at Aaron's face. 

"Well, if you're wondering what I'm thinking, I don't care if you've never done this or have done this a million times," Aaron stated. "As Nelly and many other women I know would say, you're a grown-ass woman,"

"Please say that again. I need to hear it with your accent and all," Iriye teased. Aaron rolled his eyes before leaning in. 

"Grown-ass woman," Aaron repeated, and Iriye giggled. "Let's just see what happens. No pressure,"

Iriye nodded, and Aaron got out of the car. Iriye would do the same when he rushed to her side to open the door, holding his hand out for her. She took it and got out of the car.

"Thank you," Iriye said. Locking up his car, his hand never left hers as he guided her inside the apartment building.

They entered his apartment, and Aaron let her step inside first. She smiled at the place once he switched on the light, which matched Aaron's energy. 

"Your place is nice. Very homey," She moved to sit on the couch.

“Thank you,” He said before stepping into the kitchen. “You want anything?”

“I’ll have whatever you are having,” Iriye said, looking around at the record collections under the TV. She saw a few books stacked neatly on his coffee table, her eyes peeping at a familiar title. She smiled to herself when Aaron came back with two glasses.

“My whiskey sours may not be as great as yours,” he said, placing the glass in her hand. She chuckled. 

“I’ll be the judge,” Iriye sipped the drink and hummed. “Just a little bit more lemon,” She moved to pull the book on the top of his stack. “How are you liking the Last Days of Ptolemy Grey,” 

“Interestingly enough, I like it. I figured I would read it first before watching. Someone has great taste in literature,” Aaron tilted his head towards her.

“I mean, I do know some things about writing,” Iriye shrugged playfully. Turning to him, she moved to make herself more comfortable but realized her boots were still on. She was about to reach down and take them off, not wanting to seem like she didn’t have any home training.

"I got you,"  Aaron said, his British accent with that deep timber of a voice. Her stomach clenched deliciously, trying to be demure. He moved to lift her legs into his lap. “May I?” Iriye was too distracted by how smooth he was, nodding her head along.

Aaron kept his eyes on her before unzipping the first boot, his thumb smoothing over the revealed skin along the way. Iriye let out a soft breath, feeling him pull the boot off. He did the other, and she kept her legs over his lap.

“Was that an excuse to keep me close?” Iriye raised a brow at him, Aaron rubbing her legs.

“Would that be so bad? To want you close, love,” Aaron questioned.

“No,” Iriye felt his hand moved to her cheek. 

“Come here,” Aaron stated, pulling her closer by her chin. She leaned in and kissed him softly for a moment. Getting reacquainted with the soft, full lips on hers, the feel of his trimmed mustache near her face. When she pulled back, he leaned his head against hers. “I’m taking this however you want to,”

“That might be the hottest thing I ever heard,” Iriye admitted, pulling him close again and kissing him. His hand moved to stroke her legs as they were on his lap. She hummed, his fingertips sending shivers up her spine. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, her hands moving to his neck and cheek. His tongue looked for permission to lick into her mouth, and she gave it to him gladly.

They continued kissing that way, tongues clashing as they moved in sync. Aaron pulled away, moving his hands to pull her closer. But Iriye stopped him, lying back on the couch.

“You look so good like this,” Aaron stated.

“I’m still in my clothes,” Iriye stated.

“Imagine what you would look like splayed here without them,” His words made her press her legs together. 

“Then get me out of them,” With those words, Aaron advanced on her, legs falling apart to fit his hips against hers. Her jean dress pushed up some, and she let her hands fall to his neck as she connected their lips again.

Aaron placed one hand by her head, not wanting to settle too much weight on her as they made out. She felt his hand trail to her thigh, and she pressed herself closer to his chest as she arched her back. 

“Aaron,” Iriye moaned against his lips, her clothes feeling too suffocating. He pulled back, and his hand went to the zipper on the front of her dress, pulling it down till the dark brown bra she wore came into view. Iriye sat up to shimmy out of her sleeves, sitting confidently as she felt Aaron’s eyes take her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron’s eyes trailed over her breast. 

“I know,” Iriye giggled. She had soft curves from pilates, and her body had changed over the years, but under his eyes, she felt even sexier. “Your turn,” She pulled at his black shirt. Aaron smirked before lifting his shirt. Iriye was trying to stop herself from watching her eyes pop out at his muscular body. His broad chest, the tiny speckle of hair leading into the dark corduroy pants he wore. It didn’t help his left arm was covered in tattoos, and Iriye needed to know how it would look around her neck in the worst way.

Aaron moved to lean down and kiss her as he pulled her closer. Her hand went between them, and she found the button to his pants. He pulled back to give her some space, her fingers quick to get the button off and his zipper down, her hand brushing against his length through his boxer briefs.

“Shit,” Aaron breathed, a grin appearing on Iriye’s face. Hearing him curse was all she needed. She brushed her hand against him again, feeling his length twitch a little. 

“You want me to touch you?” Iriye teased. Aaron kissed her again, Iriye moaning softly into his mouth. She teased her hand against him, and he pressed into it.

“Fuck yes,” Aaron stated, his resolve slowly slipping. Iriye tried to wiggle her hands into his pants, but she needed them out of the way. Aaron moved off the couch to remove his pants, the bulge even more apparent in his briefs. Before she could even marvel at it more, his hands were on her dress, pulling it down her body.

Aaron groaned as he saw how her boyshorts had a wet spot, a telltale sign of how turned on Iriye was for him. He was about to take them off when Iriye stopped him. 

“Last time, it was about me. This time, it’s about you,” Iriye stated. “Do you have condoms?”

As much as Aaron was a giver, a woman being straightforward and dominant with him was attractive. It made him want to just bend Iriye over and fuck her into the couch. But patience was key. So was protection.

“Let me go check,” Aaron got up, kissing her deeply and letting his tongue slide into her mouth, needing to after taking her whole body in. She let her nails drag against his neck, and he groaned before moving away and heading towards a door.

Iriye laid back against the couch, trying her best not to let her hand slip down between her legs and keep working herself up. But the way her clit throbbed in anticipation, she rubbed her legs together to try and calm herself down, only making it worse.

After a few minutes, she heard Aaron come back into the living room, sitting up at the frown on his face.

“I don’t have any…” Aaron rubbed his hand over his chin.

“None,” Iriye asked again.

“None,” 

Aaron gauged her face for her reaction, seeing her chuckle. 

“I don’t know if I should be happy you have none or nervous because you used them up,” Iriye shook her head. A grin went to Aaron’s face.

“I’ve been busy with work. Plus, when it comes to matters of the heart, it takes me a bit to open up,” He said as he moved to sit by her. Iriye leaned into his side. “I can go run for some,”

“It’s too late to be driving around for protection,” Iriye scratched at her scalp softly. “Honestly, maybe this is just what we needed. Let us think straight for a minute,” She said.

“Right,” Aaron agreed, even if he was looking at her lips. He leaned in to kiss her, and she let her hands slip to his neck. “There are other things we can do that don’t need condoms if you want to,”

Iriye purred at the temptation. “And what’s that?” She teased. Aaron’s hands moved to cup her ass with one big hand, and the other slipped between her legs. 

“Open up for me,” Aaron stated, and Iriye slipped her legs open as he asked. He let his hand tease the hem of her panties. 

“I was trying to take care of you first,” Iriye moaned as she felt him toying with her panties. 

“There’s this thing called doing it simultaneously,” Aaron said cheekily, and Iriye gasped at him, slapping his chest playfully. “Some even say the same time or mutual,” Iriye grasped him through his boxer briefs, and he groaned. “Shit,”

“What were you saying?” Iriye asked as she got a hold of his length and stroked him. She felt his head go on her shoulder, and then she was pushed back onto the couch. 

Aaron crawled over her till he was right between her legs, and she kept her eyes on him as she felt him finally slip his hand into her panties, his middle finger already slipping past her folds and her back arching into his hand. 

“That’s it,” Aaron moaned, slipping the finger to press against her entrance before he dipped it in, Iriye rolling her hips toward his hand. “Oh god, Aaron,” Iriye whined. She felt him thrust a single digit into her a few more times, going slow as her body worked itself up. She was getting even wetter as he watched her face, moving to kiss him deeply.

"I wanted to get you off," Iriye gasped against his lips, his finger sinking into the fleshy spot inside of her.

“Trust me, watching you get off turns me on,” He moved to kiss down the side of her neck. Those words went straight to her core, gasping as she felt him pressing a second finger inside of her, and she tried her best to recover. She loved how his fingers and hands were so big, remembering how he gripped her ass.

Iriye needed a bit more control, so she slipped her hand into his boxer briefs and was met with the leaking head of his length. She let her hand wrap around him, stroking him slowly, trying to keep up with the rhythm he was setting inside of her. She stroked her hand up upward towards the head, feeling a vein against her palm, and he groaned, his fingers stopping. Iriye giggled, seeing Aaron, who was very calm and collected, lose his cool.

“You good?” Iriye smirked. Aaron’s eyes grew darker, groaning into her mouth as he kissed her deeply. “Please Aaron… I wanna make you come,” She had ground her way to bliss, and god damn it, she needed to see what he looked like when he came. He heard her pleading and pulled his fingers out of her. 

“Afterwards, I’m tasting you,” Aaron stated matter-of-factly. “I’m clean. I can show you,” 

“Aaron…” Iriye giggled as she pushed his chest so she could get up. She moved to her knees, taking the pillow he handed her. She got herself adjusted and caught sight of him licking his fingers that had been inside of her. So, of course, she leaned up to kiss him, moaning as she tasted herself on his lips.

Iriye adjusted herself until she was comfortable, her hands going to his boxer briefs and pulling them down till his length popped up, her seeing the heavy length twitch against his stomach. She leaned forward and licked the tip, hearing the breathy moan that left his mouth as she teased the tip.

Iriye wouldn’t say she was a dick-sucking enthusiast for just anyone. She had to be comfortable with the person before she would show them how much she loved sucking dick. And it should have freaked her out that she hadn’t let Aaron take her on a proper date before she was on her knees, teasing the tip and tasting the pre cum his tip pushed out. 

Iriye played with the tip, realizing Aaron was very sensitive there quickly. She allowed herself to take the tip further into her mouth, sucking softly as she didn’t want the moment to end. There was a sweetness to his taste, and she hummed as she bobbed her head on his length.

“Fuck,” Aaron breathed, feeling her beginning to slide deeper. He knew he was slightly above average, but he didn’t want to hurt Iriye even then. His hands squeezed the couch respectfully, wishing he could grip her head. But he groaned as Iriye pulled from the tip, him looking down at her eyes as one hand focused on the tips as she began to mouth at the sides, tongue licking him like a popsicle that she wanted to melt. He saw that sparkle in her eyes as she licked back up his length. He let his hands move to the goddess locs, carefully grabbing some in his hand and guiding her when she took his length back in her mouth. He felt her trying to tease the tip again, and he tightened on her hair, not wanting to pull too hard.  

Iriye’s eyes met his, preening at how Aaron was looking. 

“Take that cock deeper, Iriye,” Aaron spoke, that South London boy coming out. She bobbed her head again, working him deeper and using her hand to stroke whatever she couldn’t fit in her mouth. She moaned around him, feeling his length twitch at the sensations. “Fuck, love,” He said. “You look so good sucking my cock,” He breathed, his eyes focused on her.

Iriye could feel her panties soaking through as she continued sucking Aaron’s dick. Hearing him groan and moan, his words turned her on as she worked herself up to relax around his length. She let the tip hit the back of her throat some, finding when she gagged on his length, his hips thrust up as he wanted to get deeper. She gagged a few more times, the gaps and moans coming out more, his fingers tightening and flexing in her hair.

Iriye pulled back, a string of saliva attaching to her lip from his length. She stroked him, looking up into Aaron’s eyes.

“Don’t hold back. Take what you want from me,” She playfully winked before moving to suck his length back in, gagging twice around his length before she swallowed him, sucking on him. Aaron let off grunts and whines as he thrusts up into her mouth a few times, gasps coming with every movement until she felt the warm cum spill down her throat. As much as she wanted to choke on his cock, Aaron pulled up, his length twitching and coming a little on her lips as she stroked him. 

“Iriye,” He moaned as she attempted to clean off the tip of his cock, Aaron still sensitive. She let her tongue out, hoping to catch some more spurts of cum on her lips before she swallowed.

Aaron watched on as the woman who was so confident and could command a room swallowed his cum, feeling so satisfied as she did so. It was so fucking nasty and hot.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Aaron breathed before kissing her, licking into her mouth to catch a taste of her and his cum on her tongue.

Iriye moaned into the kiss, whining as she was so turned on for more. 

“Come up here,” Iriye felt him manhandle her up off her knees and turn her to suit up against the couch. She couldn’t help but giggle as Aaron had to push the coffee table back across the floor so he would have more room on the ground. “Something funny?”

“Not at all,” Iriye said, the man a giant in his home. He grinned up at her before kissing the inside of her right thigh, playfully biting at her. She let out a moan. He kissed down till he made it to her center. He then moved onto the next thigh, kissing up till he pulled back, his hands tucked into her panties.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna need these,” Aaron chuckled, moving to pull them off. Iriye’s most delicate parts of herself were revealed, and she moved to lift her legs so she could take her socks off. 

“I’m not gonna need these either,” She teased. But she quickly shut up as Aaron sniffed her panties.

“You smell so good,” Aaron chuckled, throwing her panties into his pants. Iriye figured she wasn’t getting them back, and honestly, she wasn’t mad at it. Panties were replaceable, but Aaron smelling hers was not.

Iriye let Aaron hook his hands under the back of her knees, propping her open for him like a feast.

“Let me know what feels good,” Aaron said as he looked at her. Iriye nodded. He kept her eyes on her as he swiped his tongue slowly through her lower lips, collecting the sweet juices, a moan rolling out of her.  He repeated the motion a few more times, every swipe causing her back to arch and her moans to float in the air, but it wasn’t enough.

“Aaron,” She whined softly. “I need more,” He heard her words, and she felt the two fingers he used inside of her teasing her slit. She pressed her hips down, wanting to slide onto them, but Aaron held her thighs back.

“I let you have your fun. Now let me have mine, sweetheart,” Aaron spoke. She saw his smile and let him get away with talking to her like that. His fingers slipped into her pussy, and she arched her back, almost shutting her legs around him. “Nah, keep them open for me,” He said. 

Iriye was holding them, but Aaron guided one leg to his shoulder and then the other, caging him in. His fingers began searching for that fleshy spot inside of her; Iriye whined as she felt him hitting spots along the way.

“Oh my god,” Iriye moaned as she realized he wasn’t going to stop, especially as he found her g spot again. She rolled her hips against his fingers, hearing how wet and gushy he was making her pussy for him.

“That feels good to you, Iriye,” Aaron asked, his lips kissing her thighs. Her moans were enough answers for him, the tiny twitches in her thighs. But he knew she needed more. “Tell me, baby,”

“Your mouth,” She cried. “I need your mouth… this is not enough to make me come… please,” She said between breathy moans and gasps.

Aaron obliged her, his lips sealing around her swollen clit and sucking it to find the proper pressure. It took him a few moments to try to see what Iriye wanted. What sent her hips surging to his face or gave him nothing, but he loved discovering a lover’s body.

“Oh shit,” Iriye knew when she cursed during sex, something was being done right. She moved to look down, seeing his lips sucking her clit as his fingers rubbed a path inside of her. She moved to let her hands run over his scalp, her nails dragging up and down his scalp.

“Aaron,” She cried, his name a mantra she would repeat if it meant he never stopped. She felt him stop sucking her clit before she caught a peek of his tongue beginning to flick at her clit; short cries left her body as he moved his tongue with precision, almost pornstar levels even. “Oh fuck!” She whined, more words falling out as he moved his fingers in tandem with his tongue. She would gladly pay the toll if this were payback for the teasing.

Iriye continued to roll her hips toward his hand as he fucked her with his fingers, tongue flicking and sucking at her clit. He pulled back for a moment.

“You’re gonna come for me?” He asked her, almost a plea for her. She looked into the darkening hazel eyes and nodded. 

“I will! I will!” She wanted to scream. She would do anything for him.

“Good,” Aaron moved his to flick and suck at her clit as his fingers moved to usher her orgasm forward. At first, it felt like a tug-o-war, a push and pull for it to come forward. She let herself fall into it, the first crescendo warning her of what was to come, quite literally. She threw her head back before focusing on him, licking her lips and whining out as another thrust of his fingers and the gates flooded. Short cries became gasps and moans as her orgasm rushed in, and she came, her juices flowing down her pussy, and she felt her walls sporadically tightening around Aaron. 

Instead of letting her enjoy the fall, Aaron continued to work her through it, seeing how good she tasted and how she reacted to being overstimulated. It was almost too much as he sucked her clit, rubbing at her g-spot. She wanted to close her legs, but Aaron had her spread and locked in with his shoulders.

Iriye whined as he prolonged her orgasm, her nails scratching at his bare shoulders until she tapped him.

“Aaron,” She whined, feeling him finally let up off of her clit, and she felt him work her down with his fingers, her juices sliding down his fingers and wrist. She sighed as she slumped against the couch, his fingers sliding out of her. Aaron trailed his hand, wet with her juices, up her body until he teased her lips with them. She grinned and opened her mouth, letting him slide them in so she could suck her juices off of him, mimicking how she suckled his dick before. 

Aaron straightened up, their lips connected passionately as Iriye let her hands wrap around his neck, him leaning into her. She giggled as she could feel him and her pussy clenched, 

“How you feel, love?” Aaron asked her, pushing one of her goddess locs behind her ear.

“Good,” Iriye hated that she had no words except that, but he gave her the feeling. She couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. 

“You sure you’re a writer cause good,” Iriye swiped at Aaron’s face. 

“You play too much. To think I wanted to give you morning head,” Iriye leaned back, and he followed her, his head leaving between her clothed breast.

“You want to give me morning head?” Aaron questioned her.

“I did, but that’s only if we head to sleep,” Iriye challenged him. Aaron moved to hoist her in his arms, Iriye giggling as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, letting him carry her towards his room.

After cleaning themselves up in his bathroom, Iriye was currently in one of his shirts; her five foot eight stature and curvy waist had his shirt hitting right at the top of her thighs and giving a little peek at the bottom of her ass. She forgone her underwear as Aaron repeated that he wouldn’t give them back. She threatened to take his underwear but knew if she took them off of him again, the snake between his legs would not be going to bed. Tangled up in each other arms in his bed, both talking about whatever came to mind

“I honestly haven’t had a reason to need condoms,” Aaron mentioned, Iriye looking up at him. 

“Really?” Iriye said. “I would think it was being thrown at you,”

“It is,” Aaron admitted, and Iriye raised a brow. “But that’s not me,” He stated honestly.  Iriye propped herself up on his chest some. 

“Pussy being thrown at you doesn’t suit you,” Iriye teased, hoping a red flag popped up. Because he was so unreal. “You have an arm tattoo, Jamaican, and a Gemini. You could have anyone dropping the draws with just one look,” Iriye joked, and Aaron looked at her.

“I could have anyone, but at the end of the day, I want someone who wants me. Who chooses me. Not just anyone,” Aaron stated. There was a truth and a depth there that she loved seeing. Iriye leaned forward and kissed him softly.

“I’m sure you’ll find that,” Iriye yawned. 

“What are you looking for?” Aaron asked her. She thought about it for a moment. 

“Someone who can love my ugly parts,” Iriye explained. “Someone who can be around me not only during the good times but the bad times,” 

“Well, I hope you get that,” Aaron stated, his hand rubbing her back some. They lay in comfortable silence, Iriye hoping that what he said was true. That she would ge tit. She hoped for a second… she would have it with Aaron. @wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[m4rv3l-girl]

Honeymoon (Bucky x Reader)

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Breeding (blink and you’ll miss it.)

The warm breeze of the Amalfi Coast kissed Y/N’s skin as she leaned against the railing of their villa’s balcony. Below, the Mediterranean waves crashed gently against the shore, their rhythmic melody blending with the distant chatter of vacationers. She exhaled a contented sigh, her gaze fixed on the golden horizon where the sun was beginning to dip into the sea.

Behind her, the sound of footsteps padded softly across the polished tile floor. She didn’t need to turn to know it was Bucky. She could feel him—the comforting weight of his presence was something she’d grown used to over their time together. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his chest.

“Enjoying the view, Doll?” Bucky’s voice was a low murmur against her ear, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. His metal hand rested gently on her hip while his flesh one traced lazy circles on her stomach.

“It’s perfect,” she replied, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “Though I’d argue this isn’t the best view here.” She tilted her head slightly to catch his smirk, the one that made her heart flutter no matter how many times she’d seen it.

“Oh yeah?” he teased, turning her around to face him. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, softened by a layer of tenderness he reserved just for her. “What’s better than this?”

She pretended to think for a moment, biting her lip to suppress her grin. “You. Definitely you.”

Bucky chuckled, a sound that made her chest warm. “Smooth talker,” he said, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. It was a soft kiss, the kind that made the rest of the world fade away. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “You hungry, Kitten? I could whip something up.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Bucky Barnes, are you trying to cook on our honeymoon?”

“Hey, I make a mean pasta,” he defended, his grin widening. “Besides, you’re supposed to be relaxing, and I want to take care of you.”

Her heart squeezed at his sincerity. “I am relaxing,” she assured him, reaching up to smooth a strand of his dark hair back from his face. “But maybe we could cook together? That way, you don’t burn the villa down.”

“Rude,” he said with mock indignation, though his lips twitched in amusement. “Alright, teamwork it is. But you’re on sauce duty. I’ll handle the noodles.”

Together, they moved to the small but well-equipped kitchen. Bucky rolled up his sleeves, revealing the scars that marked the transition between his flesh and vibranium arm. Y/N caught his hand and kissed his wrist, a silent gesture of love that still made his breath hitch. He looked at her as though she’d hung the stars in the sky, and she found herself grinning under the weight of his adoration.

They worked in easy harmony, laughing as Bucky insisted on taste-testing every ingredient and Y/N playfully smacked his hand away from the sauce pot. By the time they sat down to eat on the balcony, the sun had fully set, leaving the sky painted in deep purples and indigos. Candles flickered on the table, casting a warm glow over their faces.

“To us,” Bucky said, raising his glass of wine.

“To us,” Y/N echoed, clinking her glass against his. She took a sip, savoring the sweetness of the wine and the moment. “This feels like a dream,” she admitted, setting her glass down. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up any second.”

Bucky reached across the table to take her hand, his thumb brushing over her wedding band. “It’s real, Doll. You and me, this life we’ve got…it’s all real. And I’m never letting it go.”

Her throat tightened with emotion, and she squeezed his hand. “You’re stuck with me now, Barnes.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, his voice soft but full of conviction.

After dinner, they moved back inside. Bucky lit the fireplace in the living room while Y/N changed into something more comfortable: an oversized sweater that brushed against her thighs. When she reappeared, Bucky was waiting for her on the plush rug in front of the fire, two mugs of hot cocoa in hand.

“Come here,” he said, patting the spot next to him. She settled down beside him, curling into his side as he handed her a mug. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows across the room.

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked after a moment, noticing the faraway look in his eyes.

Bucky glanced down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “How lucky I am,” he admitted. “How someone like me ended up with someone like you.”

“Someone like you?” she repeated, setting her mug down so she could cradle his face in her hands. “Bucky, you’re everything. You’re kind, and brave, and selfless. You’ve been through so much, and you still have the biggest heart. If anyone’s lucky here, it’s me.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “You always know what to say,” he murmured.

“That’s my job,” she teased, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Being your wife and all.”

At the word ‘wife,’ his eyes opened, a flicker of heat joining the affection in his gaze. “Say that again,” he said, his voice dipping lower.

“Wife?” she asked, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

Bucky’s response was immediate. He leaned in, capturing her mouth with his in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was heated and consuming, leaving no doubt about where the evening was heading. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer until she was straddling his lap.

“I love you,” he said against her lips, his voice rough with emotion and desire.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her fingers tangling in his hair as the firelight painted them in hues of gold and amber.

Y/N could feel Bucky’s heart pounding in his chest, syncing with her own. Their breaths melded together, their bodies entwined in a silent declaration of forever. He stood with her still in his arms, carrying her to the bedroom, the warmth of the fireplace trailing behind them.

————-smut———smut————-smut————smut———-smut——

Gently, he laid her on the bed, the soft fabric whispering against her skin as he hovered above her. His eyes searched hers for consent, and she gave it freely with a nod, her pulse racing at the intensity of his gaze. He kissed her again, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, asking for more, and she opened for him eagerly. His hand slid up her thigh, pushing her sweater aside, and she shivered at the contact.

“Can’t wait to fuck you as my wife,” he murmured against her skin, his teeth scraping gently along her jaw. The words sent a shockwave of desire through her, making her core tighten with anticipation. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and the world outside their villa, outside their love, ceased to exist.

Bucky took his time exploring her body, his kisses leaving a trail of fire from her neck to her collarbone. His metal hand traced the line of her spine, sending shivers of pleasure down her back. He was so attuned to her, so gentle, that every touch felt like a declaration of love. His other hand found the hem of her sweater, lifting it over her head, and she watched the way his eyes darkened at the sight of her.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. He kissed the swells of her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples. She arched into the sensation, her own hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath her palms. The weight of his body pressed into hers, and she could feel the evidence of his desire against her thigh.

With a growl, Bucky reached for the button of his pants, desperate to be closer to her. She watched him, her eyes dark with desire, as he freed himself, the fabric sliding down his hips.

Their eyes met again, and she could see the hunger in his gaze—a hunger that mirrored her own. The words “my wife” resonated in his eyes, and she felt a surge of power and love. She reached for him, her hand wrapping around his length, stroking him gently. He hissed in a breath, his eyes closing in pleasure, and she felt a thrill of power knowing she could do this to him, that she was the one he wanted.

“Look at me,” she whispered, and his eyes snapped open, locking onto hers. The air in the room was charged with anticipation, their bodies speaking a language more intimate than words. Y/N slid her hand up and down him fully, her touch light yet firm, and Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head. He groaned, the sound raw and primal, and she felt a heady sense of satisfaction knowing she could elicit such a reaction from him.

Her hand worked in a steady rhythm, and she watched as his chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. He reached for her, his metal hand gliding up the inside of her thigh, his flesh one teasing the fabric of her panties. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a delicious ache that grew with each passing second.

Y/N leaned in to kiss him again, her hand still moving in a gentle but firm grip. Bucky’s hands found the waistband of her panties and began to slide them down. She helped him, her movements seductive and deliberate. As the fabric fell away, she straddled him once more, her bare skin against his, the heat of his arousal pressing into her.

With a playful smile, she began to grind against him, her hips moving in slow circles that made his eyes widen with lust. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her, urging her to take what she wanted. The friction was exquisite, a sweet torment that had her breath coming in short gasps. She could feel herself dripping, her body begging for more of him.

Their eyes never left each other’s as she rocked against him, setting a pace that had them both on the edge. Bucky’s hands roamed her hips, memorizing every inch of her as if it were the first time, his thumbs brushing against her clit, sending shockwaves through her.

Her movements grew more urgent, and she could feel the tension building within her, a coil tightening with every stroke. Y/N’s breath caught as she felt the first tremors of her climax, her eyes fluttering closed. Bucky’s grip on her hips tightened, his own need evident in the tension of his body.

“Wanna see you, Doll,” he rasped, and she obeyed, her eyes flying open to find him watching her with a fierce intensity that sent her spiraling over the edge. She cried out his name, her orgasm rising up from her toes to her head, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

As the last spasms of pleasure subsided, Bucky flipped them over, his body covering hers, his own need now palpable. He kissed her deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of their earlier dance.

“Now, it’s my turn to show you how much I love you, my wife,” he murmured, and she could feel the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, eager for the connection that would seal their bond once more.

With a groan, he entered her raw, filling her completely.

The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of burning and pleasure that had her nails digging into his back.

"I want to breed you, Doll," Bucky grunted against her neck, his voice a mix of passion and primal need. "Wanna make you a mommy."

Y/N's eyes went wide with shock, but the idea didn't repel her. Instead, it sent a new wave of heat through her. She’d never considered it before, but in this moment, with Bucky’s warmth buried inside her and his love shining through his eyes, she could think of nothing she wanted more than to be filled with his children, to grow their family.

Her hips bucked up to meet his, her inner muscles tightening around him. "..oh- God…," she managed to gasp out, her voice strained. "Bucky, please."

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep.

Y/N’s eyes remained locked on his, the love and need in them only growing stronger as he filled her completely. She could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched her and the way he fit so perfectly inside her. It was as if they were two halves of a whole coming together.

His metal hand found its way to her hair, his calloused fingertips stroking through the strands with a tenderness that seemed almost out of place with the raw passion of the moment. Yet, it was this tender touch that sent her spiraling even higher, a stark contrast to the primal need driving his hips into hers.

Their bodies moved together in a dance that was uniquely theirs, a symphony of sighs and gasps filling the air as they both chased the peak of their desire. The strokes grew faster, his metal hand never leaving her hair, his flesh one gripping her hip tightly to keep her in place as he plunged into her over and over.

With each movement, she could feel her climax building once more, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter within her. Bucky’s strokes grew more deliberate, his breaths hot and heavy against her neck. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his words lost to the crescendo of their love making.

Y/N’s nails dug into his back as she met each thrust, her body moving in perfect harmony with his. The hand in her hair grew more insistent, pulling slightly as he pushed into her, the hint of pain only serving to enhance the pleasure.

Their eyes remained locked, their souls bare and exposed as they shared this moment of ultimate intimacy. Y/N felt herself climbing, her body tightening around him as she approached the edge once more.

And then, with a final, deep thrust, she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her with more force than ever before. She sobbed his name, her body arching off the bed as he held her tight, his strokes never faltering as he brought her back down from the heights she’d reached.

Bucky’s own release followed swiftly, his body tensing before he spilled himself inside her, filling her with the warm gush of his cum. He groaned her name, his hips faltering against hers as he emptied himself into her.

After a moment, he collapsed onto her, his weight a comforting blanket of love and satisfaction. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, whispering sweet nothings into the crook of her shoulder as he caught his breath. His metal arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, as if trying to meld their bodies into one.

The aftermath of their love-making was a gentle lull.

Y/N’s hand traced the scar that joined his metal arm to his shoulder, her touch feather-light, as she whispered, “You’re everything to me, Bucky.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against her skin. “And you’re my everything, Doll.” He kissed the ticklish spot under her jaw, his eyes shining with affection.

They layed there for a while, their hearts beating in unison. Then, Bucky propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You know, I always knew married sex was going to be amazing, but I had no idea it could be this good.” His voice was filled with a teasing lightness that made her laugh.

“You’re terrible,” she said, pushing him gently. But she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It’s like you’re saying dating sex wasn’t enough for you.”

“Oh, it was plenty,” he assured her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But married sex? It’s like going from a good cup of coffee to the best whiskey you’ve ever tasted. It’s got that something extra, that warmth that goes straight to your soul, you know?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness. “So, I’m the whiskey in this scenario?”

“Always have been, Kitten.” He leaned down to kiss her again, a smile playing on his lips. His hand trailed down her side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “But now, it’s like we’ve got all the time in the world to savor it. We can say to hell with everyone else - We’re hitched.”

Her eyes searched his, the love in them making his chest tighten. “Forever and ever, Bucky.”

He nodded, the reality of the moment sinking in. “Yeah. Forever and ever…”

——————————————————————————————————

Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed this one. Seriously, don’t we all just need a Bucky Hubby?

It was originally a request, but I managed to lose it..? 🤷‍♀️ (I don’t know.)

Anyway, I hope whoever requested it actually gets to read it! 🫶

[scoupsakakitty]

Cherry Blossom | idol!Jun x reader | fluff

The bustling streets of Tokyo were alive with energy as Y/N and Jun wandered through the crowded streets. Lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, casting warm light over the stalls lining the street. Everything smelled delicious, from freshly grilled skewers to steaming bowls of ramen, but Y/N was too distracted to enjoy it.

“Jun, I think we’re lost,” she said, looking around nervously.

Jun tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Lost? No, we’re just… exploring.”

She shot him a skeptical look. “Exploring? We’ve passed this takoyaki stall three times already.”

Jun glanced at the stall and then back at her, his expression calm. “Well, maybe the takoyaki here is just that good.”

“Jun,” she groaned, tugging at his sleeve. “We need to find the train station. We’re going to miss the last train.”

Jun pulled out his phone and frowned at the screen. “No signal.”

“Great,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms. “And neither of us speaks enough Japanese to ask for directions.”

Jun shrugged, his nonchalant attitude doing nothing to ease her frustration. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can just stay out all night. It’ll be fun!”

“Fun? Wandering around a foreign city with no plan and no place to stay? Yeah, sounds like a blast,” she said sarcastically.

Jun chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You worry too much, Y/N. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.”

She sighed, looking around the crowded street. “Going with the flow is easy for you. You’re Junhui, the guy who always seems to have everything under control.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his voice softer now. “I just… don’t show it as much.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her irritation fading slightly. “So, what do we do now, Mr. Go-With-The-Flow?”

Jun grinned and pointed to a small café at the end of the street. “We go there. Sit down, regroup, and figure it out.”

With no better option, Y/N followed him. The café was cozy, with soft jazz music playing in the background and a warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. They settled into a corner booth, and Jun pulled out a small map he had picked up earlier in the day.

“Okay,” he said, spreading the map out on the table. “Let’s solve this like a puzzle.”

Y/N leaned over to look, her shoulder brushing against his. “You’re really bad at puzzles, Jun.”

“True,” he admitted with a laugh. “But you’re great at them, so we make a good team.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his optimism. As they traced their route on the map, their laughter gradually replaced her frustration.

An hour later, they stepped back onto the street, their spirits lifted.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Jun said, tucking the map into his pocket.

“You mean after we spent half an hour trying to figure out which way was north?” Y/N teased.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Details.”

As they walked, Jun suddenly stopped in front of a small shop window. Inside was a collection of handmade trinkets, each one delicate and unique.

“Wait here,” he said, disappearing inside before Y/N could protest.

When he returned, he held out a small charm in the shape of a cherry blossom.

“For you,” he said, placing it in her hand.

“Jun…” she started, but he shook his head.

“Think of it as a souvenir,” he said. “Something to remember this adventure by.”

Y/N stared at the charm, her heart swelling with warmth. “Thank you.”

Jun smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “You know, getting lost with you wasn’t so bad.”

She laughed, slipping the charm into her pocket. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re my favorite travel companion,” he said, reaching for her hand.

————————————————————————————-

As they walked hand in hand, the sounds of the city seemed to fade into the background. Jun occasionally swung their arms gently, a playful smile on his face. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of her eye, marveling at how relaxed he seemed despite everything.

“You’re enjoying this way too much for someone who got us lost,” she teased, squeezing his hand.

Jun tilted his head dramatically, feigning offense. “Got us lost? I prefer to call it spontaneous adventuring.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

Jun stopped abruptly, pulling her to a halt as well. “Actually,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “you’re the one who helps me sleep at night.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean it,” Jun said, his voice soft but firm. “Being with you makes everything feel… lighter. Like, even when we’re lost or things don’t go as planned, it doesn’t bother me because I’m with you.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, the sincerity in his tone making her heart skip a beat. “Jun…”

He smiled at her, a little shy now. “I just wanted to say that. I’m not always the best with words, but… I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

Y/N felt her irritation from earlier melt away completely. She reached up to touch his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You’re better with words than you think, Junhui.”

His eyes lit up at her use of his full name, and before she could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Come on,” he said, his voice lighter now. “Let’s find that train station before we accidentally end up in a completely different city.”

After another half hour of wandering (this time with better navigation), they finally found the train station. Y/N let out a triumphant cheer as they stepped onto the platform.

“We made it!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

Jun chuckled, watching her with an affectionate gaze. “Told you we’d figure it out.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “And next time, you’re in charge of asking for directions.”

“I’ll start learning Japanese right away,” he joked, pulling her close as the train approached.

By the time they returned to their hotel, it was well past midnight. Y/N flopped onto the bed, exhausted but content. Jun joined her, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

“Today was kind of a mess,” she said, turning her head to look at him.

Jun smiled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The best kind of mess.”

Y/N laughed softly, rolling onto her side so she could rest her head on his chest. His arm instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close.

“I don’t mind getting lost,” she murmured, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his shirt, “as long as it’s with you.”

Jun pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice low and full of warmth. “I’ll take us anywhere you want to go, Y/N. Even if we get lost a hundred times.”

As the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep, Y/N smiled, knowing that with Jun by her side, every detour would feel like the right path.

————————————————————————————-

[nonranghaes]

heads up: panic attack. vent for writer.

jisung knows how to take care of you now. he shuts your laptop, setting it aside as he quickly books it to the fridge and back to push a cold water bottle into your hands. you're getting overwhelmed, rambling up a storm about an assignment you did that now looks like you copied someone else who had the same idea. he tells you that it happens, that its normal, and to just email your professor about it... but he knows you. he knows himself. sometimes little things feel too big to handle, and they blow up like this. he holds his hands over your own, thumbs tracing alongside the inside of your wrists.

"it's okay," he says, keeping his voice as calm as he can. "it's gonna be okay. it's early enough. you haven't done any work yet. if she wants you to change it, it'll be okay. you're going to be fine."

you sniffle, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to breathe as your chest grows tighter. you're babbling all over again: what if what if what if she gets mad at you what if she hasn't graded your assignment because she reached out to your advisors who's on vacation what if you're in the process of getting in major trouble for a misunderstanding and you just don't know it yet?

he kisses your forehead, gentle as can be, and his hands slide up to your biceps. "honey. i promise, it's going to be okay."

the water bottle slips from your hands, hitting the floor and rolling away as you move in to hold him. you squeeze your eyes shut, breathing growing more rapid as you try to hide. from what, you don't even know, but you bury your face in his chest and grab fistfuls of the back of his shirt. he embraces you, tracing circles on your back as you sob.

"it's okay," he says again. "just get it out..."

and you do. you sob into his shirt, losing yourself for a minute. two, five. you lose track. but you pull away, breathing a little more even, face stained with tears. and you meet his eyes after a moment, sniffling still.

"'m sorry..." you wipe at your face with your sleeve. "'m overreacting again--"

"it's okay," he cups your cheeks. "i'd panic, too. would i be overreacting?"

he knows the answer is yes. but he knows you'll say no, just because neither of you downplay each other's feelings in the moment even if you do sometimes laugh over the stupid things later on. he kisses your forehead again, wiping away some of your tears with his thumbs. he reaches down, scooping up the water bottle and offering it to you again. without a word, you accept it, twisting off the cap and taking a long sip of it before passing it back to him.

"better?" he says quietly. and when you nod, he sighs in relief. "i think... before you do your next assignment... we should do something silly."

you nod, and then reach for your laptop. "after i email her. will you--"

"yes." he kisses your cheek, always on the same wavelength as you when it comes to moments like these. "i'll read it before you send it. do you want a snack?" he stands, stretching, already ready to hunt in the kitchen for whatever will make you smile the most. "i'll grab us some snacks."

"yes, please." you open up your email, and wait a moment before turning to watch him go. "i love you."

he beams as he spins to face you one last time now, already making a heart with his arms, just to hear you laugh a little at him being silly for you. "i love you more!"

[evendimmer]

Since you asked for gay stuff...pick three Agatha's outfits/looks you love the most and why.

First off @kukikatt darling, thank you so much for the ask. Sorry it took so long, I started working on it this morning on my phone but turns out I needed to be on my computer to finish it.

Somehow this turned out to be way more difficult than I expected because let's be honest, all Agatha's outfits are gay iconic and you know, I love every bit of her.

So without further ado, here's my three most loved Agatha looks

3. "The Mother"

The dress is perfect, I dig an old timy period dresses and this one is makes her feel soft, comfortable, domestic and just screams wife/mother (makes my heart flutter heh). The thing that stood out for me tho is her hair. You have to understand I have a huge, HUGE thing for long hair but the half up? It shows off more her beautiful jawline and still lets her long hair cascade at the back. And the braids, god braids are always sexy. The MVP here tho is her bangs. Look at how it falls over her face!!! The curls!!! Somehow the bangs alone is enough to make my knees fucking weak.

2. Basement Reveal

Yes, specifically the basement reveal outfit WITH her hair down. Hair up and hair down makes a huge difference, while Agatha is hot with her hair up, letting her hair flow wild is just something else. I know it's probably one of her plainest outfits but hear me out.

There's something about the simplicity that makes you focus on her form - see that waistline? Ugh I want to put my hands there. The black pants hugs her hips just right and it's tight enough to show off that perfect booty Not to mention the rolled up sleeves grrrrr, arms you know???

Honorable Mentions

70s Rock Singer - The opening, need i say more? Of course there's also the belt, and those fingerless gloves. Fingerless gloves also makes me week.

Witch outfit - Power looks good on mama. That's it. Also shoutout to the darkhold corruption fingers mmmmmmm (yall know exactly what I'm thinking)

Ghost Agatha - Weird choice I know but I absolutely love the colours?? How etheral she looks in it? Her silver/grey hair????? Makes me feral. My only complain is they had to put the ghost filter in the show and we don't get to see a lot of the details...

And now... to no. 1

1. The Road Outfit

Oh god where do I start. Like say, I love long hair and shirts. This outfit has it all. The ultimate gayfit. It's powerful, it's iconic and it's so fucking gay. Her silhouette with the coat? Fuck yes. Using the coat as a cape? Dramatic, but sexy. Even the lapel is hella hot look how it stands in the first pic. The high waisted pants - again, perfect waistline and it's got her purple which pops out so well from her coat and the surroundings.

Jesus H Christ this got way longer than I imagined lmfao. Like say, I'm a rambler so thank you for making it this far. I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy reading it as well.

Stay gay my lovely witches 💋

[stollengoods]

Chapter 5

It’s Not Me, It’s You

Myung-gi x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of: killing, abortion, and drugs.

Summary: Myung-gi manages to piss you off again but this time instead of you going to Nam-gyu, Nam-gyu comes to you. (A bit of Nam-gyu fluff)

————

When you guys got back to your beds, everyone was whispering amongst each other. No doubt, scared out of their minds at what had just occurred.

“I saw Thanos flirting with her before the game, how is he so-“

Myung-gi shook his head, cutting you off, “I don’t know. I saw him push four people not longer afterwards either.”

“Wait. Really ? Like on purpose ?” Your eyes filled with fear all over again as you looked over at Thanos jamming out on his bed.

Myung-gi raised his eyebrows, “Yes. He literally pushed all of them, one after the other they went down like dominos.”

“What the fuck, why ?”

“Bro has to be on something.” Myung-gi mumbled bringing his legs into his chest.

You laughed, “They won’t even give me Midol, I doubt they’ll hand someone narcotics.”

He released a heavy sigh, “It’s scarier to think of the alternative…”

You titled your head, “Which is ?”

He looked at you, his face serious, “That’s just who he is.”

“He could have a mental illness.” You suggested, “But that doesn’t make him evil.”

“It does make him very unpredictable though and in a situation like this you don’t want to be around someone unpredictable.” He released his legs and they hung over the bed like yours. “That brings me to another point, I don’t want you hanging out with Nam-gyu anymore.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, you honestly haven’t thought of Nam-gyu until he brought him up but you’ll be damned if Myung-gi’s going to tell you what to do.

“Okay, dad.” You replied sarcastically. “What gives you the fucking audacity to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with in here ?” There it goes, your anger rising up again.

He closed his eyes as you raised your voice, “I don’t mean to come off as controlling, I’m just saying it’s probably a good idea to stay away from the people Thanos hangs out with.”

“You can’t just assume someone’s bad from the people they hang around, Nam-gyu hasn’t killed anyone ! He deserves the benefit of the doubt for that.”

His eyes squinted at you, “Oh yeah, he’s such a nice guy because he hasn’t killed anyone yet.” He threw his hands up, “That’s the fucking bare minimum y/n !”

You rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean ! Him and Thanos are not the same. Tell me what he’s done that is bad enough that I can’t be around him ?”

He looked defeated, “Y/n, he’s just no good for you.”

You busted out laughing, “You’re real fucking funny, you know that.” You remarked, as you got up from the bed and grabbed your jacket. “Because you’re one to talk.”

You stormed off to your own bed and Myung-gi knew better than to follow you. He just watched you with his sad puppy dog eyes as you walked away from him. You sat on your bed starring daggers at your feet trying to calm yourself down.

“Your boyfriend giving you shit again ?”

You turned around to see Nam-gyu leaning his arms against the bed above you as he peered down at you.

You scoffed, “He’s not my boyfriend.” You told him as you scooted your legs on the bed, propping the upper part of your body against the wall behind you.

“Aww did I cause a break up ?” He jutted out his lower lip and you playfully rolled your eyes at him. He joined you on the opposite side of the bed, his back propped up against the foot board.

“We’ve been separated for months now. More specifically six months.”

Nam-gyu blinked his eyes a couple times, “Damn. I would think you guys are married, who uses the word ‘separated’ to describe a break up.” He chuckled.

You looked off to the side, “Not married but uh- we were expecting…”

“Expecting ? Oh-“

“Yeah.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “When I told him, he sent me money to get an abortion and then completely ignored my texts and calls after that.”

You saw Nam-gyu pull his jacket sleeves over his hands, “Wow- that’s fucked up.”

You sighed, “Yeah.”

Quickly thinking of something to break the tension you created, you brought up Thanos to him.

“What’s up with your friend ?” You questioned, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Nam-gyu looked back at Thanos making shooting jesters with his hands as he rapped to himself, “Who ? Thanos ?”

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, he seems… very- happy ?”

Nam-gyu nodded his head, “Yeah, the cross necklace he wears, the pendants opens and he keeps his “happy” pills in there.”

You looked at Nam-gyu, “They’re giving him pills ?”

Nam-gyu chuckled, “No, he brought them with him, they just didn’t take them away from him.”

You blinked a couple of times and Nam-gyu uncovered his hands from his sleeves, “Like these two rings I have on, I came with these, they didn’t give them to me, they just let me keep them.”

“Ohh… so Thanos is a drug addict I’m assuming ?”

Nam-gyu pursed his lips, “Yeah… basically.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you hang out with a guy like that ?”

“The same reason we hang out together- we have a common enemy.” He smiled.

You giggled, “I don’t hate Myung-gi…”

He put his hands up in defense, “You don’t have to hate someone for them to be an enemy.”

“Yeah, fair point.”

The speakers crackled on, “We will take another vote. I need everyone to listen for their number to be called. May I remind you that when you vote ‘O’ you are voting to stay, if you vote ‘X’ you are voting to leave.”

“Well.” Nam-gyu grunted as he got up from the bed, “I guess I’ll see you on the other side.”

You smiled, reaching out your hand for a fist bump. He smirked, before bumping your fist with his and walking off to meet up with Thanos.

You got off your bed, fixing to join everyone gathering in the middle of the room, when you heard someone behind you.

“Yah !”

You turned around to a woman with short black hair and a nose piercing approach you. “Hi… do I know you ?”

“No. I just had a question for you.”

You guys began walking down the stairs together, “Okay…”

“How do you know Nam-gyu ?”

You starred at her for a moment, “Umm… I don’t know, we just sorta started talking I guess, why do you ask ?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “You guys just seemed very chummy like you knew each other outside of this place.”

You guys stopped walking once you made it to the center of the room. You tilted your head to the side, “Is there something I’m missing ? Is he your ex or something ?”

She snorted, “Oh god no. Also, honey, I’m gay if you couldn’t tell.” She pointed to her nose piercing as if to prove her point.

“Oh okay, then why the interrogation about Nam-gyu ?”

“Well, I’m usually very good at picking up on what kind of people most humans are. Nam-gyu was a fairly easy read, he bullies people like Min-su to feel a sense of power because with everything else in his life he feels powerless. Therefore he’s just an insecure asshole.” She shrugs her shoulders before putting her hands together and pointing them at you.

“You on the other hand, I’ve noticed have some tension with Player 333 which I didn’t think too much into considering he’s scammed thousands of people out of money, but I saw you interacting with player 196 earlier before she was killed and you seemed like a fairly nice person. So I’m just wandering what a good hearted person like you is doing being buddy buddy with an asshole like Nam-gyu ?”

Your jaw was practically on the floor, “No offense but you sound like a full blown stalker.”

“None taken, I can see your trying to deflect which is fine, I got my answer.” She smiled before walking off into the crowd of people in front of you guys.

“Who was that ?” Myung-gi asked, joining the spot next to you.

“I have no idea.” You monotoned, then focused your attention on him.

He looked over to meet your gaze, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have told you who you couldn’t be friends with.” He pursed his lips together, “He’s an asshole to me but if he’s nice to you then that’s all that matters.”

You gave him a smile, “Thank you.” It’s the least he could do to make things right but everyone’s got to start somewhere.

[mychemicalaromanticism]

He gets a chance to guess when he meets a man with fiery hair and a white leather jacket.

Val Velocity is constantly tense, with crossed arms and an ever-present furrow to his brow. He is distrustful and bitter, but his crew doesn't seem too bothered about it. They talk and play around him with comfort that only comes from a strong bond. Cherri notices the empty space they still subconsciously leave in their circles, and a purple mohawk flickers in and out of his vision.

He doesn't make the connection immediately. He gets flashes that don't mean anything to him; a slightly younger Val with solid blonde hair, no jacket, and an empty expression on his face; a young child holding what could only be a Scarecrow's hand. Val was a guarded person, inside and out. Cherri was visiting the Diner when he first had the thought.

Kobra was laying in the pile of pillows and blankets that lived on the cafeteria floor, inspecting his arms with a bored expression. "Oh, yeah, Val totally- Val totally, uh, totally freaked it on Ghoul last week."

Cherri raised an eyebrow, leaning a little more on his hand from his seat at a booth. "Did he, now?"

"Yeah, he like- like, shoved him. Knocked him over. Knocked him over." His face didn't change.

"Did they deserve it?" Fun Ghoul was known to be annoying, known to enjoy being annoying. It was still surprising to hear that Val had succeeded in knocking them over, if that was true. He must have pushed them pretty hard.

"Yyyyyeah. I guess." Kobra rolls onto his side, facing Cherri. He stretches his arms over his head lazily, making his face squish against a pillow. "Ghoul was all up- all in his space, in his space with- with his arms around him 'n shit. Guess it freaked him out," comes his mumbled reply. He smirks. “Party punched- punched him in the face, though.”

Cherri smothers his first thought, his brain's desperate attempt to find and connect with people like him. No one likes being grabbed. Val's especially hot-headed. He wills himself to stop thinking about the way Val distances himself, the way he clings to his jacket like it's his only defense against the world, the way he apparently reacts violently to touch, to being restrained.

"You good?" Kobra asks. Cherri snaps back to attention, focusing on Kobra's repeated question. He gives a weak "Yeah" and a thumbs up. An echo appears standing just behind Kobra, a kid with short brown hair and glasses wearing a plain red long sleeve shirt and jeans. The most generic, ordinary child Cherri could probably imagine, but his face is tensed in suppressed anxiety. He feels a pang of regret for whatever memory he's triggered for Kobra and tries to look more relaxed. The echo disappears, and Kobra starts talking about his and Ghoul's latest adventures in rewiring C.A.T.

None of the Four seemed too concerned with the altercation. It happened, it ended, and people moved on. Even Party, who was the most upset with Val, had dropped the subject. And then the next time he sees them, Ghoul tells him about Val’s apology and that Vinyl likes to cook. Cherri can’t see anything on Val. His crewmates flicker with memories and apparitions around him and his form is unwavering, stubbornly locked down.

Cherri’s sitting in the Diner again. The Girl is on the floor next to the booth he’s in, playing a card game with Jet and Vamos. Party and Kobra are talking over each other with Vaya while Ghoul sits off to the side interjecting every so often.

Val is sitting where he always does, on the barstool against the wall and closest to the door. He’s accompanied by Vinyl this time, talking to him quietly.

The Girl leans back, pressing her head into Cherri’s thigh. “Hey. It’s not cheating to hide how many cards I have, is it?”

“It totally fucking is!” Jet exclaims.

“But we’re supposed to hide them in the first place!”

“We still need to know how many you have!”

Cherri puts a hand on The Girl’s head and ruffles her hair absent-mindedly. “What are you even playing?”

“Uno,” The Girl says, leaning into Cherri’s touch.

Jet throws his arms up, exasperated. “The game where card count matters, it’s called Uno, for fuck’s sake!” Vamos snickers as he stops to catch his breath.

A foreboding feeling fizzles along Cherri’s skin, and he looks up. Val is glaring daggers at him. He startles and leans behind Vinyl when Cherri catches him.

“I think you’re cheating, Girlie,” Cherri concedes, taking his hand off of The Girl’s head and trying to shake off the sick feeling that’s come over him. The three players seem satisfied with his answer, The Girl muttering under her breath but still pulling her cards from under her thigh, and the game continues. Anyone paying attention to the discussion goes back to their activities, and Cherri stares forward at the space behind Val.

There’s an echo, a Val slightly shorter but so much younger than the one sitting at the bar. His hair is solid blonde and the same length, but shaggy in an unintentional way that makes him look more disheveled than wild-hearted. He’s missing his leather jacket, a plain blue t-shirt in its place, and jeans that probably came with him from the City.

His eyes are red-rimmed with fresh exhaustion and he has small, rounded, dark red and purple marks along his neck.

The impressions, the echoes, whatever Cherri wants to call the visions he receives when looking at people, he learns to decipher and interpret them. He can tell if someone carries the grief of a long-dead family member, he can tell when someone has experienced a significant feeling of being out of control. He can tell when someone is haunted by their past, and he can make a good guess as to what's haunting them. It comes to him in gut feelings, in the shifts in the air when people get lost in thought. It comes to him in images- ghostly glimpses into the past that cling and drag behind a person.

He tries not to stare when they appear. They aren't ghosts, not in the traditional sense, but accidentally making eye contact with them when they aren't even aware of their existence is unsettling to say the least. Most of the time they just stand there, stuck on loop in whatever moment they manifested from. He's seen too many battered children to ever sleep well again.

They're not all bad, of course. He'll see a child holding a toy that must have been important to them. Or someone with a fresh haircut and dye, dressed extravagantly with a gleam in their eyes. He's even seen a second figure accompanying some echoes- a family member, a friend, a teacher, he presumes. Someone important enough to appear alongside their memory.

He wonders, sometimes, what his own echoes look like.

[duckymcdoorknob]

dUCKY HI ITS ANON PALM LONG TIME NO SEE >:3

o saw you’re into blue lock now :33333 can we have some Isagi x reader in time for Valentine’s Day

THANKYOU

PALMMMMMM HAI :)

It’s so good to hear from you again!! I hope you enjoyed your holiday!!

AND YES IM A FERAL CHILD FOR BLLK NOW RAGHHHH YOU HAVE @giggly-squiggily and @ticklish-n-stuff TO THANK FOR IT

Taglist: @fanfic-chan @chrimsss @myreygn

This is gonna be my own AU. Blue Lock happened and everyone is all happy and friends and yay and they all happen to go to the same school ok

Word count: 3.5k

The freshly fallen snow is always a wonderful sight to behold. Wintertime adorns the trees with white, twinkling powder, bringing forth the sounds of crunching ice and giggling kiddos. What winter also brings is the skin-nipping, unbearable cold.

Granted, the cold can be a wonderful experience. Snowball fights, ice skating, warm drinks and cookies, snuggling up with your closest people, fluffy blankets, and cozy scarves are all to be had.

However, for you, the cold is an enemy you try to fight. You always insist that you’re not cold, opting to be outdoors without a coat or any sort of winter gear. Hell, Kunigami looked at you sideways the first time you met. You were dressed in short sleeves despite being able to see your breath in the air.

Every winter goes the same way: you refuse to acknowledge the dropping temperatures, and Isagi waits for the inevitable, “okay… maybe I am cold…”

He knows it will happen; it happens every year without fail. In the twelve years that Yoichi Isagi has known you, there has never once been a winter in which you survive your cold strike.

He can’t help but smile, knowing that this year will not be any different.

The sky yawns a beautiful cerulean, the golden sunlight illuminating the fresh snow that crunches beneath your feet as you walk. Upon arriving at school, you notice Chigiri and Kunigami chatting idly at an outdoor table. The redhead rests his chin on his palm, a soft smile on his face as he listens to every word the other says to him.

“Hey, mind if I cut in?” you hum, causing the two to look at you.

“Always,” Chigiri hums, scooting a bit closer to Kunigami to make space for you. He instantly leans toward him more, his head on the taller male’s shoulder. “My God, you’re like a space heater.”

Kunigami chuckles, opening his arm and allowing the redhead to slot in against his side. “There. You warmed up now, princess?”

“I won’t hesitate to bite you, you oaf.” The words from Chigiri’s lips hold so much venom, but the sigh of relief that leaves him gives away his true feelings.

You chuckle, exhaling in satisfaction as a hit of winter wind bites your skin. Your eyes close, a peaceful smile on your lips.

“You aren’t cold, (N/N)?” Kunigami’s soft voice breaks your tranquil moment.

“Mm mnh,” you answer. “I am absolutely, positively, 100%-“

“-cold.”

A familiar chiming voice cuts off your sentence, the sound of snow crunching alongside the gentle giggles of your seated friends causes you to perk up. “Ha-Ha, you’re soooo funny, Yoichi,” you grumble.

Isagi only hums as he walks up to you with a smile. A warm drink was soon placed into your hand, and you take notice of all of the winter gear he was wearing. You chuckle, rising to your feet and tracing a finger over his gloved hand.

“You’re decked out like there’s been a blizzard. It’s barely 10°C (50°F),” you say with a scoff, pulling his beanie over his eyes.

“Agh! Hey, you little-!” Isagi pulls his beanie up with an eye roll. “10°C is COLD, thank you very much. Some of us aren’t human space heaters either.”

“No need to be so grouchy. I have another arm,” Kunigami cuts in.

Isagi shoots him a glare, frowning lips hidden by a large scarf. “That’s not what I- ugh. Are you idiots ready to go?”

“Not yet,” Chigiri murmurs, still squished against Kunigami’s side. “Bachira isn’t here yet.”

“When have we ever waited for him?” you argue with a murmur, plopping back down on the seat of the table. “He’ll be late to his own funeral, I swear.”

Before anyone can respond, Bachira’s chirping voice calls out to the four of you. He wears a huge smile as he runs through the field of white beneath his feet. “Hiiiiiii guys! Good morning! Can you believe how much snow we got last night?!”

“Good morning, Bachira,” Chigiri hums. “Glad to see you’ve actually dressed appropriately for the cold this time, unlike someone…” he turns to you with a cocky smile, and you only stick your tongue out at him.

“Oh, yeah! It’s real chilly out today, isn’t it? I can totally see my breath in the air. Lookie lookie!” Almost instantly, the golden-eyed boy exhales audibly, his breath condensating in the open air.

You and the others smile at him, with Isagi slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“(N/N), it’s cold! What are you not wearing?” Bachira asks with a pout.

“What do you mean?! I’m perfectly content the way that I-“ a gust of subzero wind blows harshly against your body. All of the hairs on your arms stand up as you quite literally freeze on the spot. “am…”

“Like I said, I have another arm. Princess here seems perfectly content to be- OUCH! DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST BITE ME?!”

“I tried to warn you.”

You huff, flexing your fingers as a shiver wracks your body. You shake your arms a few times, trying to brush it away. You will NOT concede; this year is going to be your-

“Scoot over,” Isagi orders.

You oblige, creating less space between you and Chigiri, who seems perfectly content to be warming up the way he is. Isagi sits down next to you, mirroring Kunigami’s earlier action. Almost instantly, you lean into his body, clinging onto his jacket with an annoyed huff.

“Honestly, (N/N), you need to take better care of yourself. It’s okay to admit that you’re cold,” Yoichi murmurs, rubbing your arm with his hand. “You’ll catch your death if you don’t start dressing properly.”

“I’m not cold,” you rebut petulantly.

“And I don’t play soccer.”

“That’s not fair. I’m not cold!”

“You’re practically melting into his side there,” Bachira coos, coming behind you and rubbing your shoulders teasingly. “If you’re not cold, there must be a different reason you’re leaning into him so much~!” He giggles as you shoot him a glare as icy as the ground.

You roll your eyes, leaning into Isagi more. Luckily, the newfound warmth on your face helped to fight the winter’s cold, and it seemed that Yoichi had no protest to having you so close to him… No, no, don’t be delusional.

“Well, I for one am ready to get out of this weather. Shall we head inside?” Chigiri’s voice sounds over your impending inner monologue.

“Huh- wh- yeah! Yeah. Let’s go inside,” you hum, not making any effort to move away from your personal heater.

“Seems like we were both lying through our teeth I guess,” the redhead hums, having not moved an inch either.

You giggle, gasping with an exaggerated pout as Isagi moves to stand up. He offers you two gloved hands, which you happily take and help yourself stand. When the action was done, he keeps one hand interlocked with yours, claiming it’s “to keep you warm.” All you can really think is that Yoichi is holding your hand.

Soon, everyone is up on their feet. Isagi and Kunigami walk on your left, talking ecstatically about an intense soccer game that they had either watched or played in—you aren’t quite paying attention.

Bachira and Chigiri are to your right. Chigiri’s listening fondly to the half blonde telling him horror stories of his times in the kitchen. Again, you’re not really paying attention. (However, you did catch Kunigami sneaking glances at Chigiri, smiling like an idiot whenever he would so much as laugh at something.)

Your mind is a mess as you walk, focused on how touchy Isagi has been today so far. You absentmindedly squeeze his hand, leaning against his shoulder when he does it back. From an outsider’s point of view, it would look like the two of you are- WOAH! WOAAAAAH! PAUSE! Get your head screwed on right, (Y/N)!

All things considered, you can’t help but smile as you walk with them to class.

By the end of the day, the temperature has only seemed to drop more. You instantly cringe as the permafrost brushes against your skin. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoichi. He frowns, slipping his hand into yours once again, as if it were second nature, as if it were a totally natural, knee-jerk reaction.

“Come on, (N/N), let’s go find everyone else, okay?” he hums softly, rubbing his thumb over the base of your own. “I swear, you’d freeze to death without me here.”

You only can follow after him, focusing on how soft his touch is…

When you catch up to Kunigami and Chigiri, you’re all waiting on Bachira… again… The two shoot each other a smirking side-eye when they notice your interwound hands. You look at them with a poorly hidden, dopey grin, yourself shaking your head slightly in disbelief.

“So, you giving in yet, (N/N)?” Kunigami asks you with a soft chuckle. “You’re looking pre-tty cold there.”

“Nope. I’m not cold!” you hum, despite the shivering state of your body.

“They have me to thank for that,” Isagi cuts in, squeezing your hand slightly.

At that moment, Bachira does what he does best and somehow spawns behind the two of you. He drapes himself over the two of you, leaning against your backs with his arms around your shoulders. “Ohoho! Isagiiii~! You sly dog! Holding their hand so publicly?! You’ve got guts, man!”

You just about jump out of your skin from the sudden voice. You turn your head around with a patient smile choosing to ignore his teasing comment. “Hi, Bachira. How was your test?”

“Ughh soooooo boring! I finished it in like five minutes, so I had almost an hour of free time. The field is totally covered in snow. I had enough time to build a snowman!” Before either of you can protest, you and Yoichi are dragged along together, due to your interlocked hands, with Kunigami and Chigiri following close behind.

The half-blonde’s snowman is a… sight to behold. the sticks for the arms are far too large, and he had stuck butter crackers into it for the eyes, blueberries for the mouth and buttons. You want to ask why there’s one missing from the mouth, but amidst his jabbering, he notes that a bird came by and snatched it up before he could stop it.

“It’s… something,” Kunigami mumbles.

“Isn’t it awesome?! It makes me feel like a kid again,” Bachira hums, dropping onto his back and making an angel in the snow. “We haven’t been able to just play like this in such a long time. Oh! I miss being so young and carefree~!”

“He does have a good point…” Chigiri mumbles. With the tie on his wrist, he pulls back his long red hair, tucking it under his hat. He lays down in the snow next to the half-blonde, chuckling softly at the Cheshire grin he’s met with.

“Join usssss!” Bachira chirps, beaming the remaining three of you a close-eyed smile. “It’s so fun!”

You want to protest, but Kunigami shrugs with a soft grin, joining Bachira and Chigiri in the snow. Yoichi only rolls his eyes. “You’re all children.”

“You too can be a child for the price of one snow angel!” Bachira chirps in reply.

“No way. I’m not getting all snowy.”

“See, you claim that. But, can you really be sure?” Chigiri hums innocently.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it right now.”

“I’m not thinking anything. You’re just on edge for noooo reason,” the redhead says with a chuckle.

“Hyoma-“

“Yoichi-“

The two are interrupted by a sharp battle cry by Bachira. He jumps to his feet and tries to pull Isagi down into the snow, but the bluenette only dodges effortlessly. You watch with a fond smile as the two work the snowy field like an empty soccer pitch.

“You two are so totally obvious,” Kunigami teases. He stands up and offers a hand to Chigiri, who takes it with a smile. “You’re such a cute couple.”

“W-What?! We aren’t-“

“(Y/N),” the two say simultaneously, giving you an exasperated look.

Before you can argue, you notice that Isagi’s hat slipped off his head in the midst of the “fight.” You quickly rush over to retrieve it. When you bend down to pick it up, you hear rushing footsteps behind you. Within seconds, a huge mound of snow fell atop of your head and down the back of your shirt.

Your body instantly seizes up, and you whip around with dangerous, wide eyes. “W-Who th-the hell d-did i-it?” you stutter, body turning to total ice. “I-I’m go-gonna fr-eak-king k-k-kill-“

“Oh God, (Y/N)!” You had never heard such fear in Yoichi’s voice before. His hands instantly find your shoulders, brushing the snow off of you. He looks at you with concern while Bachira looks at you with immense guilt. “You stay here. I’ve got stuff in my bag for you.”

“W-W-Why d-do yo-ou-?”

“You always swear you’re not cold, but I know you, (N/N). Every year, without fail, you tell me you’re cold. What kind of man would I be if I wasn’t prepared for when you finally admit it?”

The comment leaves you dizzy, and your heart starts to pound. You barely register him calling for Chigiri and Kunigami until they’re standing at your side. The three boys don’t hesitate to start wiping the snow off of you, with Kunigami’s warm hands getting the powder out from the inside of your shirt. His hands gently brush along the skin of your back.

“Hey, g-guys, uh-“ you mumble.

The three look at you with confusion as you watch Isagi rush to grab his things.

“Is Yoichi… um seeing anybody?”

Everyones’ hands halt when your words register. They all rush to stand in front of you, looking at you in confusion.

Bachira giggles sweetly. “Yeah! He sees us all every day!” He teases sarcastically, knowing fully well what you mean.

“No, no, I mean like… is he dating anybody?”

The half-blonde looks at you dumbfounded, as if you had just spoken to him in a foreign language. “Wait, what? You’re not messing with us? You actually mean that-“

“Why are you all looking at me like that?!” you ask in exasperation.

“(Y/N), are you two not dating already?!” Bachira asks, genuinely shocked.

You feel your breath stop in your lungs. This is news to you for sure. Were you two actually together, and you didn’t even realize it? There’s no way! “You’re screwing with me, right? Yoichi does not like me like th-“

“(N/N), he’s literally running to get you the hat, gloves, and scarf he’s kept in his bag since I’ve known him,” Chigiri deadpans.

“Right. And, truth be told, no guy would be so touchy with someone he doesn’t like,” Kunigami notes.

“You guys are-“

“That’s different,” Bachira hums. “We give you hugs because you’re our friend. We don’t do it because we like-like you; at least, I don’t.”

“That’s right, friends. Friends are pretty touchy with each other!” you try desperately to argue.

“(Y/N)…” Kunigami murmurs. “He literally held your hand earlier for at least fifteen minutes. Plus, he let you lean on him when you were cold.”

“You let Chigiri do that!” you whine. “He was all snuggled up into your side earlier, and you two aren’t-“

The two look at one another, sighing, then back at you, locking their hands together with eyes half-lidded. They look at you as if you’re stupid, waiting for it to click.

Your defensiveness sobers as you relax a bit. “Oh.”

The two chuckle, with Chigiri rolling his eyes. “I mean, even Bachira put it together.”

“Hey! I’m so much smarter than you give me credit for,” the half-blonde whines.

“Says the guy who thought putting butter crackers in an open field was wise,” you rebut.

“I won’t hesitate to shove more snow down your back, (N/N).” His voice somehow drops to a deadly serious one, only in a matter of seconds. “You’re in for a rude awakening if you think I’m kidding.”

You hold your hands up in defense. “Woah there, calm down, Tiger. I’m trying to warm up, not get more cold.”

“Ha! So you admit it,” Isagi’s voice finally sounds. His breath condensates in the air as he huffs and puffs, clearly having run faster than he had all day. “Here, don’t move.”

“I can put it on mys-“

“No way. I can’t trust you to do anything for yourself. It took getting snow dumped down your back for you to finally admit you might be affected by the weather.” Yoichi takes off his glove and takes hold of your hand. “I mean, seriously! Your hands are like ice for crying out loud!”

You can’t help but smile softly, deep down loving being fussed over by him. The bluenette mumbles out an angry ramble at you, carefully dressing you in the winter gear.

“I keep telling you to dress warm, (N/N), but nooooo,” “You never ever want to listen to me.” He places a scarf around your neck, securing it into the collar of your shirt. “It’s like the universe planned for you to get totally frozen to teach you a lesson.”

You watch intently as he takes your hand, sliding a glove on it. He holds the other glove in between his teeth as he continues to mumble about how you’re “being irresponsible with your health,” and how you’re “gonna end up sick,” and how he “hates how whiny you are when you’re sick.” Both gloves are now on, and he shrugs his coat off, wrapping it around you and pulling your arms through it. He zips it up with a huff.

Finally, he grabs the hat he brought and places it on your head. He pulls it down with an exasperated exhale. He then places both hands on your temples and kisses your forehead angrily. “There. Better now? Are you warming up?”

The three boys watch silently, biting back smiles smiles. You on the other hand…

“I-“ you blink, unspoken words stuttering on your lips. “Y-Yeah.”

Yoichi’s mind seems to sober when he looks down at you. His face erupts into a deep blush. “I- I didn’t- I- uh- you- we-“

His cute babbling was interrupted by Bachira nailing him in the side of the face with a snowball. “Oh you little-!”

You shoot a wink at the half-blonde, flashing him an evil grin. Before he can rationalize, you wrap yourself around Isagi’s middle, pulling him down on the ground. He lands with his arms on either side of your head. “RUN BACHIRA!” you squeal.

The bluenette groans at you. “What the hell was that for?! Are you okay? Did I crush you or anyth-“

You roll your eyes, smiling up at him. “Had to give him a head start, Y’know? He could barely catch you last time.”

Yoichi rolls his eyes. “Sometimes, you’re just as insufferable as him.” He rocks back onto his knees, then gets to his feet, offering you a hand. You take his hand with a cheeky smile.

“Stay here, okay? I don’t need you getting another load of snow dumped on you,” Isagi hums. It seems like clockwork when he holds your head and kisses your forehead for the second time. He begins to stalk off toward Bachira.

“Hey, Yoichi!” you shout.

Isagi comes bounding back toward you. “Yeah? Yeah? You okay?”

“No! That’s the second time you’ve missed, idiot!”

“Missed?! What do you-“

The bluenette is cut off by you cradling both sides of his face and connecting your lips for a kiss. His hands find purchase immediately, one wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer, and the other holding the side of your own face.

You kiss him as if you’d waited years for it, and it seems as if he’s doing the same. When you pull away, everything tells you to go back in. You look into his eyes like a lovesick puppy. Oh boy… a conversation is going to have to be had. “Go get him, Loverboy,” you coo, flashing him a sweet smile.

Isagi runs off with a stupid grin on his face, shouting Bachira’s name. You, in turn, take a seat next to Kunigami and Chigiri, snuggling into Isagi’s jacket a bit more. Kunigami opens his arm, and you rest against his side, cheek squished against his shoulder.

“God, he really is like a space heater,” you murmur.

“Told you,” Chigiri murmurs, cheek squished all in the same way.

You sigh, watching contently as Yoichi successfully catches Bachira, tackling him to the ground before smooshing a snowball in his face. You cringe at the thought of how cold he must be.

But, with a boy like Yoichi Isagi in love with you, you feel like you’ll never have to fight the cold again.

✪ ——— ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ. ——— ✪

[nctsworld]

JUST TWO HOT GUYS IN SUITS ROLLING UP THEIR SLEEVES, NO BIG DEAL

[andy-clutterbuck]

[undyinglantern]

the amount of surprised pika “wait people actually shave their arms?” comments on posts about body hair are so funny like I unironically am so happy for you that you weren’t laughed at by a classmate for having hairy arms “like a man” in like 4th grade this is why I wish body hair conversations would stop centering around armpit hair

[cumironi]

THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.

warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.

the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.

they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.

the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.

“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.

gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”

“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”

toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.

gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”

geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”

toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”

there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”

toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.

“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.

the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.

sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”

but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.

“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.

“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.

“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”

the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.

gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”

geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.

sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.

“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”

the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.

gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.

toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.

it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.

today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.

“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.

you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.

but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.

“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”

you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.

his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”

his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.

you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”

his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.

he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.

you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.

you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”

his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.

gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.

“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”

he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.

and that’s where you are . . .

gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.

“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.

he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.

gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.

his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.

“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.

you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.

“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”

despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”

his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.

gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”

with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”

the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.

“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”

despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.

gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.

you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.

“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”

“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.

gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.

he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.

but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”

you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.

“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.

gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.

“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.

“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.

gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.

“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.

gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.

“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.

“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.

you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.

as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.

next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.

gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.

“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.

with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.

“perfect.”

gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.

without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.

you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.

“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.

gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”

gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”

his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.

“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.

“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.

“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.

gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.

“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.

you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.

when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."

his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.

gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.

with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.

slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.

“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.

you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.

gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.

you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.

“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”

gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.

gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.

“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.

once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.

your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.

gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”

you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.

“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.

gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”

but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.

gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.

gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”

he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.

“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”

gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.

“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.

he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.

when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”

gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”

he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.

gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”

gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.

his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.

you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”

your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.

“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”

he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.

gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.

a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.

but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”

your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.

“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.

gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.

gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”

gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.

your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.

a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.

a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.

“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”

gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.

as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.

the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”

gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.

overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.

after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.

his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.

a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”

you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.

gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”

he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.

gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.

gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.

his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.

gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.

you simply nod.

gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.

he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.

once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.

“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.

gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.

he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.

gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.

as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.

he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”

the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.

he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.

as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.

geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.

toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.

and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.

a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.

sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.

“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.

gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.

“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”

the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.

then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.

their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.

you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.

the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.

toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.

sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”

toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”

geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”

gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”

the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.

gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.

gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”

lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.

each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.

toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.

gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.

you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.

[choslut]

# PUSSY TALK !! (vi x reader)

$YNOPSIS. you’ve been feelin’ a little insecure about yourself lately. good thing you have a girlfriend who’s head over heels for you, no matter what! // wc. 2.4k

warnings. insecure!reader, talk of body image + weight, face sitting, spanking (ass + clit), praise, dirty talk, stripping, oral sex, size kink (?), teasing, fingering, begging, squirting, overstimulation, mirrors, awkward aftercare, spooning, pet names

NSFW below the cut. minors, stay away. enjoy your read!

Dresses aren’t your favourite piece of clothing. They never have been and they never will be, and even as you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, you absolutely hate how this dress looks on you.

When you asked for something flared that would hide your curves, you didn’t expect your tailor to make you look like an overstuffed cream puff. The flared sleeves hang off of your arms like misplaced scraps of fabric, and the material pools at your feet, surrounding you in an unceremonious circle. You look frumpy, you feel frumpy, and nothing in the world could have convinced you that this is the dress you were going to wear to the annual Councillor’s Gala.

“What the fuck…” You turn around to inspect the back, and it’s even worse than you thought. It seems as if the tailor has attempted a daring backless design, but to you, it just looks like a gaping hole, the fabric tight and loose in all the wrong places before messily accumulating just above the apple of your ass. It looks horrible, and if you weren’t insecure enough, this dress makes you feel like a laughing stock. 

And that’s when the dreaded words come out of your mouth. “I seriously need to lose weight.”

Someone doesn’t like that, because out of nowhere, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin on your shoulder. “And why’s that? I think it looks perfect.” 

Vi loves seeing you in dresses. She thinks they make you look so graceful, no matter what shape you choose. It solidifies the fact that you are her perfect princess, and she will never understand why you hate them when they make you look so pretty. 

She also doesn’t understand this whole weight thing you have going on. If anything, one of the things that first had her on her knees for you was your body, and like now, she always feels a need to be touching it, whether it be stroking your thighs or kissing your collarbone or, like now, wrapping her arms around your perfect waist and pulling you into her chest. 

“‘M not perfect though, Vi,” you grumble, hands running along the sides of your chest and resting over where her hands cradle your tummy. “I look like a creampuff.” 

“Creampuffs are sweet. I like creampuffs,” she says, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror as she noses your neck. “I like you.”

You roll your eyes and whine. “I know you like me, Vi. But that’s not gonna change the fact that I hate this dress.” 

“Take it off then.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like you’re not going to be stuck in it for three whole hours, playing the part of a member of high society whilst trying your hardest to ignore the obvious stares at the atrocity which is your outfit. You want to tell Vi that it seriously isn’t as easy as that, but you’re distracted by her hands slipping into the open back of your dress. 

“I can help you,” she whispers in your ear, and you can feel the cold metal of her nose piercing against your heated skin. “Take it off, I mean. Relax.” 

“Vi…”

“Can we try something?” She begins to kiss your neck slowly, and you whimper when you feel the rough scar on her lip brush against your heated flesh. “I know you’ve been feeling some way about your body lately, and to be honest, I have no idea why because your body is already so fucking perfect…” Her hands slide up the insides of your dress, and you lift your shoulders automatically as she slips those god awful sleeves off of your shoulders. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”

After all this time, she hasn’t broken eye contact once, and you notice her eyes go dark when she shoves the front of your dress down, only to find your perky nipples staring right back at her. “What is it?” 

“Sit on my face,” she states simply, hands coming round to rub at your tits. “I want all of it, baby. Your whole body. I want you to fuckin’ suffocate me.”

You probably will. You stare at your girlfriend in the mirror incredulously, because there’s no way in the universe that you’re going to sit on her face. Not in a million years, and certainly not today. “No.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” She has a point, because it’s getting increasingly hard to refute her when her hands are making their way underneath the front material of your dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your regulation panties. “Go on, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t sit on my face.” Before you can open your mouth to protest, Vi smiles and bites your shoulder. “And your weight is not a valid answer.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Violet.”

“Yes, baby?” She acts like nothing is wrong, like asking you to crush her skull in between your legs a couple hours before the most important event of the year is a completely normal request. And she continues to act this way, even when she slips her hand into your panties, fingers eagerly in search of your clit. “So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to sit on my face, and you don’t want me to make you feel so good that you forget all about this stupid dress and that stupid gala?” 

Your back arches into her chest when she starts rubbing your clit in small circles, lips widening into a smile as she watches you unravel against her. “That’s not what I said.” 

“So why are you acting like you don’t want it?” She’s taunting you now, fingers halting all movement on your clit and sliding down lower, tips starting to tease your quivering hole. “Because I know you want it, baby. She’s telling me you want it.” 

You hate how Vi can read you like a book. You do want this, but you’re worried, and she makes sure to eliminate of all of that worry by slipping her fingers into your cunt, mouth dropping open in wonder when you begin to crumple against her.

“Vi, please.” 

“No.” Stubborn. “You’re not cumming unless you’re where you're supposed to be, princess. My game, my rules, and no amount of that pretty begging is gonna change that.” 

You bite your lip as you feel her palm grind against your clit, fingers speeding up and continually assaulting your sweet spot. It’s so hard not to beg her to let you cum, especially with the way she’s holding eye contact with you so intensely. 

“Say the words, and that orgasm’s yours,” she mumbles, smile ever present as her fingers alternate speeds. “Come on baby, I know you can.”

You can, you will, and you do. Your pleas to cum are replaced with nonsensical begging and whimpering, your hands futilely clawing at her biceps as you try to rip her fingers away from your weeping hole. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just let me cum, Vi, please-”

All of a sudden, the pressure building up inside of you dissipates, and you notice Vi licking her fingers clean as she backs towards the bed. “That’s what I like to hear,” she laughs, sitting down on the bed in a way that has you weak in the knees. “Come take a seat, princess.” 

Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes to have you stepping out of the pool of fabric on the floor and crawling onto the bed towards her, legs planted on either side of her hips as you bend over and catch her lips in a heated kiss. It’s loud and it’s messy, her hands sliding up your thighs and onto your covered ass as you grind down onto her knee, tongue intertwining with hers in a clash of passion and need. 

“Good fucking girl,” she groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it hard, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. “Come on, baby, c’mere, come sit.” 

Your hands splay the surface of her chest as you push her back onto the bed lightly, chest heaving gently with every heated breath you take. Vi looks up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, because to her, you are, and she wouldn’t want to be underneath anyone else. 

“There she is,” she whispers as you situate yourself comfortably on her chest. “My pretty girl, huh?” 

“I’m nervous,” you mumble, hips beginning to move slowly as you plant your hands on either side of her head. “I… don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” She captures your hips in her strong hands and pulls you further up her body, letting you hover just above her collarbone. “I’ve lifted this perfect body with my own two hands before. What makes you think a little face sitting will hurt me?” 

In a way, she’s right. Vi is strong, more so than most people. If it got too much, she would be able to move you effortlessly, and-

You’re pulled out of your train of thought by the feeling of Vi’s nose nestling in between your legs, rubbing up against your pulsing clit under your panties. “Vi…”

“You’re thinkin’ too much, baby,” she groans, voice muffled in between your thighs. “Just do it.” This time, she doesn’t leave you any time to think, because she’s now mouthing at your cunt through your panties, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you ever closer. You gasp in surprise, one hand coming up to grip onto the headboard as you fight not to lose balance. 

Another thing about Vi: she’s impatient. And when you hesitate to begin moving your hips, she does it for you, fingers pulling the seat of your underwear to one side and arms pushing you down hard. 

“She’s so wet, baby, I don’t know how you can say you don’t want this.” Her tongue darts out to lick your throbbing clit and you whine, hips stuttering as you stare hazily at the mess of pink hair in between your legs. Vi is staring up at you with lust swirling in her eyes, and you can feel her smile on your cunt as her tongue slides downwards to your entrance. “I mean, she is practically begging me to eat her out. Is that what you want?”

Before you can answer her, you’re caught off guard by her hand slapping at your clit playfully, sending pleasured shockwaves throughout your system. “ ‘M not talking to you anymore, silly,” she laughs, thumbs rubbing at the area she just assaulted. “I’m talking to her, since my girl doesn’t seem to know what she wants anymore.”

“Stop it,” you grumble, but Vi pays no notice, resuming her languid licks on your pussy. Your protests are quickly turned into prolonged whines and whimpers of her name, the pressure once taken from you beginning to build in your core with each shallow thrust of her tongue into your hole. 

“Not until she’s satisfied, angel.” And she means it, because the grip she has on your thighs is nothing next to lethal, and you feel yourself begin to shake as the pressure builds more and more. “And she’s getting close, don’t you think?”

She is. Your head begins to swim and you tangle your fingers in Vi’s hair in an attempt to stabilise yourself but it proves futile, mouth dropping open as you beg her to let you finish. “Vi, please, please, I’m sorry, I-”

“Nothin’ to apologise for, angel, you’re doing a great job.” You have no idea how she still manages to speak when she’s being all but crushed in the trap that is your quivering thighs, but her voice drives you ever closer, your hips grinding down onto her happily awaiting tongue as you chase your orgasm desperately. You want it- no, you need it, and when she begins to massage your ass sensually, you think you might just squirt.

“Vi...”

“Yeah, baby? Is she telling you something?” She loves playing this game, delaying your orgasm as long as possible whilst making it impossible to hold yourself back. It feels like her hands are everywhere because suddenly her thumb is massaging your clit, and you’re begging her like there’s no tomorrow.

She seems satisfied by your begging, because she takes one arm off of your thigh to use her fingers to fuck your needy cunt. “Cum for me baby, c,mon. Give it to me.”

And give it to her, do you, and in gracious abundance at that. Your juices drench her face unceremoniously as you twitch above her, spine shaking as you hold on to her hair for dear life. You’re all but riding her tongue, and she’s moaning profusely into your cunt, the vibrations only heightening your sensitivity. And try as you might, you can’t pull her away, her mouth a suction as she pushes you unforgivingly into overstimulation.

When you’re all but ready to surrender your stability to her relentless assault in between your legs, you feel a strong pair of hands lifting you off of her mouth gently, and light kisses being littered all over the expanse of your thighs. Vi’s mouth travels along your skin lazily, her powdery blue eyes looking up at your shaky form with nothing but love etched into her irises. You barely begin to register the sweet praises she gives you, instead basking in the afterglow of your intense climax mixed with the feeling of her hands stroking your back.

Moments later and you’re laying down on the bed next to her, curled in a foetal position as you fight the army of sleep threatening to overthrow you. “Are you tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Why don’t you… skip the gala? Stay here with me, I’ll cook, and…”

You think the difference between the Vi laying next to you now and the Vi who made you climax to the brink of passing out is a cute one. She’s never been too good with aftercare, instead trying to make awkward conversation in an attempt to divert from the fact that she just rocked your world in more ways than one. “We can stay home. I’ll tell the organisers I wasn’t feeling too well.” That, and the fact that god awful dress made you want to bust a nerve.

Vi smiles at you gently, and you wish you could stay like this with her forever. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”

© this work belongs to choslut. do not copy, translate, repost or feed my work into any regenerative ai system.

main masterlist

[maruflix]

CAVE CANEM #oneshot #squidgame #thefrontman

Cave canem. Beware of dogs. In the ruthless games, there are countless hounds looking for prey. Oh Young-Il promises to be your shield, your shepherd, your guardian angel— but you soon find out that it’s often the unassuming ones who are the most dangerous.

feat. the frontman / hwang in-ho / oh young-il　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.5k

cw: female reader, yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, manipulation, squid game spoilers, i’ll use all of his names & nicknames here so don’t get confused, i do not condone yanderes irl, no beta we die like all 455 players in season 1

I.

It’s funny how tragedy brings people together.

It has only been twenty two hours since you entered the twisted battle royale with 45.6 billion won dangled on top of you, but you’ve found companionship in fellow participants: Player 456 Seong Gi-hun, Player 388 Kang Dae-ho, Player 390 Park Jung-bae, and Player 001.

Oh, Player 001.

“How are your wounds?”

You look up to see Player 001 — or, as he introduced himself to you, Oh Young-il. His eyes gleam in worry as he takes in your appearance: hair disheveled, knee bruised, sleeves rolled up to reveal the scratches littering your hands.

You’re just glad you didn’t get killed during the Red Light, Green Light stampede.

“This is nothing,” you assured him with a genuine smile, “thank you for helping me.”

Young-il pauses. Then, as if remembering something, he reaches into his pockets and hands you a small carton of milk. “Here. You must be dehydrated.” He watches as you gratefully take it, instantly drinking the contents, “Don’t worry about the next game. We’ll get through it together.”

Tears are brimming in your eyes at the kind man’s encouragement. You let him take your hand and nod at him, smiling. “Thank you, Young-il-ssi.”

Young-il gives you one last smile before climbing back down to rejoin the rest of the group. His movements alerts Jung-bae, who mindlessly throws a glance his way.

Jung-bae instantly pauses. He knew from the start that Player 001 is not a simple man, but the expression on Young-il’s face is nothing short of terrifying, like a tiger eyeing its’ prey. He follows Young-il’s line of sight and finds you, curled on one of the beds.

A chill runs down his spine.

II.

You don’t know how you got through the Six-Legged Pentathlon, but you did.

Chosen as the one to play ddakji — it’s not like you sucked at it, but you were scared you would be a burden to your teammates — your hands couldn’t stop trembling.

The squares of ddakji felt like rocks in your hand, your shoulders heavy by the fear of dragging everyone down. Their encouragement and cheers merely heightened your anxiety.

That was, until a hand gently clasps your own. “Don’t think too much about it. You said you won more times than the ddakji guy, didn’t you?” Young-il’s eyes twinkle, his shoulders lax, as if he’s not currently playing for his life, “Well, you won’t receive slaps if you fail, so go wild.” It’s amazing how he manages to silence all your fears.

You flipped the ddakji on your first try.

III.

In-ho knew it from the start, but the reality of it still disgusts him. Humans are selfish creatures, blinded by greed, driven by instincts.

He sighs, looking at the results of the vote— 139 for ‘O’ and 116 for ‘X’. One hundred and thirty nine people marching to their own deaths like brainless maggots.

He sneaks a glance your way and sees that you’re shuddering. His heart drops to the pits of his stomach. Slipping away from Gi-hun, he makes his way to you. He keeps on surprising himself: joining Player 456 in the games, cheering with the others during the pentathlon, and now comforting you?

But In-ho is not one to ruminate over his actions too much. He knows what he wants, he gets what he wants, and right now all he wants is to hold you in his arms.

“Young-il,” your eyes instantly land on his and he wonders how it will feel to hear you call him by his real name, “I’m scared. I’m so scared, I don’t want to die!”

He’s beside you the next second, catching you before you can fall to the ground, strong arms wrapped securely on your waist. In-ho falters for a fraction of a second, but his hand quickly shoots up to caress your hair.

Receiving the kindest act for the first time in many years, you can’t help but to cry in his warm embrace, letting out all your frustration and fear. His touches are so tender, so serene, and being enveloped in his tall figure makes you feel protected.

In-ho calms your sobs with gentle shushes, rubbing circles on your back. He was unsure then, but his heart is determined now— he wants you, he’s got to have you, and there’s nothing under the seven heavens that will stop him.

He shudders at the thought of having you all to himself. In-ho can barely control himself right now, when you fit so good in his arms, your skin brushing against his. What would it feel like? To have you next to him every second of every day? He’d shower you with all of him— all his riches, all his affection, all his time.

First, the two of you will have to exit the game safely.

His grip on you tightens as he lifts his gaze from your trembling figure to the several pink guards stationed near the door. In the distance, they straighten their posture in alarm.

Even among the many faces of the players, they can locate their boss in a heartbeat — the Front Man is still the Front Man, even if he’s amusing himself by playing dress up. The way he carries himself is so telling, they have no idea how the players are none the wiser to the wolf hiding amongst the sheep.

... And right now, their superior’s glare speaks volumes about what he’s conveying.

A warning.

IV.

‘One more game,’ they said, ‘it’ll be fun,’ they said.

The rotating stage under your feet is spinning at a controlled pace, yet you feel like you’re going to throw up. The light feels blinding, the gasps from the participants making your head spin even more.

Amidst all the chaos, Young-il’s hand clasping yours serves as an anchor.

“You okay?” His voice is as gentle as ever, unworried.

Even Gi-hun, the former winner of the games, is not exempt to the anxiety and apprehension that shadows the rest of them, but Young-il has never showed any signs of stress— like he has a safety net... or like he’s very sure of his own abilities.

You nod, grateful that he’s allowed you to stick by him like glue all this time. He squeezes your hand in encouragement, smiling.

“Two.” The woman’s voice announces cheerily. In an instant, the crowd erupts in disarray.

Young-il looks around. “Stick close to me,” he murmurs before pulling you with him towards one of the rooms. Not wanting to be a burden to him, you quickly fall in line, matching his steps. His back is very comforting as he cleverly navigates the chaotic hall, avoiding the other players.

Just when the two of you reached the door, a player appears, crashing into the two of you and sending you tumbling away from Young-il. Your world spins as you struggle to pick yourself up, searching for him.

Thankfully, you locate him almost immediately. A few steps away from the door, Young-il is strangling your attacker. “Get in! I’ll be right behind you!”

Fueled by adrenaline, you nod frantically, moving to enter the room. But there’s already another person inside.

True to his word, Young-il quickly scrambles to the room, slamming the door behind him. He immediately takes note of the anomaly, his expression dark.

“I-I was here first!” The stranger sputtered, shuffling away from Young-il.

There are loud bangs coming from the other side of the door and you quickly hold onto the lock, tears now falling from your eyes. “Sorry!” You yell, ”Sorry!”

“Five. Four. Three.” The countdown continues mercilessly.

You look back, “The other guy—!” but your words are caught in your throat.

Young-il has the man in a chokehold. For a moment you had no idea why he’s handling the guy so aggressively when it’s obvious that he’s more scared of the two of you than the two of you are of him.

“Two.”

“Young-il!”

“One.”

CRACK!

You scream. The man slips from Young-il’s hold, limp.

Lifeless.

Young-il’s gaze meets yours. There’s an emotion you can’t quite place on them, but it’s quickly replaced by that of horror. “I-I had to do it.” Tears start to brim on the corner of his eyes, his hands visibly shaking, “I had to-” he desperately crawls away from the dead man as he covers his face in terror, “I’m a monster, I-”

Crying, you kneel next to him, pulling him into an embrace, “No, you’re not,” assuring him in between sobs, “it’s this game, it’s the game’s doing, it’s not your fault!”

Breath haggard, In-ho rubs your head comfortingly. You didn’t even realize that he has long since stopped crying. He covers your ears, knowing by now that the sound of gunshots horrifies you, and glances at the body of the man he just killed.

You watched him kill one guy and you get this rattled? He sighs quietly.

For you, he would kill a thousand more.

V, PART ONE.

“Hey girl,” a voice booms from behind you, catching you by surprise.

You let go of your hand that’s holding Young-il’s, turning your head to address the stranger.

“Saw you from afar and I can’t believe I didn’t talk to you sooner.” The purple haired man wastes no time getting into your space, running a hand through his hair. “D’ya know who I am? Because I wanna know who you are.”

You stiffen up. Of course you know him. Who didn’t? The number one ambassador of the ‘O’ team, aka the people who wish to continue the games, the outspoken menace, Thanos.

Thanos catches sight of something behind you and wavers before looking back at you. “A-anyway. I’ll see you around. Team’s always open, baby!” He exclaims, but it’s obvious that he’s trying to hide his nervousness.

You look back to see Young-il smiling at you. “Wonder what that’s about.”

The people here freaks you out. You sigh. “I know, right?”

In-ho hums, his finger treading along the sharp edges of the fork.

V, PART TWO.

The bathroom is a mess— team ‘O’ and team ‘X’, warring against each other, fueled by the actions of a junkie who’s high out of his mind.

In the middle of it all, Hwang In-ho calmly makes his way to a purple haired man who is slumped on the ground, yelling at his friend.

“Get him, get that sucker! He tried to kill me, man!”

A dark shadow looms over Thanos, and he looks up in terror, recognizing In-ho immediately. “W-what are you-?”

In-ho eyes him coldly before swinging down.

The cold gleam of a fork is the last thing Thanos sees before it penetrates his neck.

VI.

The fire of revolution burns bright behind all of you. Your hands may tremble, but your rifle is secure in your arms. All those first person shooter games are finally coming in handy as you manage to actually shoot down several guards.

“You okay?!” Young-il questions in panic, “You’re doing a good job! It’s gonna get more dangerous afterwards, but I can’t leave you behind!”

You nod, reassuring him, following him up the stairs with two other men in tow. Right now, you are brother-in-arms, comrades, fighting for your freedom.

Young-il halts, sensing the presence of a guard, before speaking into the comm, “Gi-hun-ssi, we found it.” he holds out an arm in front of you like a shield, “Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we’ll hit them from behind.”

Your knees tremble in fear and anticipation. Somehow, with Young-il on your side, you feel like this ragtag team of freedom fighters can actually succeed.

“Okay, got it!” Gi-hun’s invigorated reply came from the other side.

Young-il pockets the comm, nodding to the two men. They nod back in response and move forward. He quickly moves in front of you, signaling you to stay behind him.

Just when you thought about how reliable he is, two sharp gunshots resonates in the air.

Is it over?

You peek from behind Young-il’s back only to be met by the horrific sight of Player 015 and Player 047 sprawled on the ground, choking on their own blood.

Young-il’s rifle is still pointed at the two of them, his eyes cold.

Who is this person? You scramble to get away from him, alarm bells ringing in your head. Did he miss his shot? Did I see wrong? Is there a guard in front of him?

“Young-il-ssi, what’s going on?” came Gi-hun’s distressed voice from the comm, “Are you shooting?”

You watch in horror as Young-il calmly reloads his rifle before squatting down and glancing your way. “Gi-hun-ssi, I’m sorry.” Like a seasoned actor, the unscathed Young-il puts on a strained voice, “It’s all over. They got us too.”

Gi-hun’s voice is blurred as you fall to your knees, finally coming into terms with the betrayal of the person you’ve come to trust the most.

Young-il momentarily looks away from you to shoot the two men one more time. Cold, unfeeling, his fingers steady like he’s done this countless times before.

This is not the Young-il you know.

When it’s all over, several pink guards march up to him, a coat and a black mask in tow. Young-il (?) lifts a hand up to stop them, turning to finally address you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, your fingers desperately trying to locate the trigger on your rifle, but the man in front of you is much quicker. He yanks the rifle from your trembling hands, unloading the bullets and kicking the weapon away as you back away to the wall, shivering in fear.

He sighs, taking the coat from one of the guards before kneeling down to your height. “I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

Confused, you can only gape at him. “W-who are you..?”

“Hwang In-ho. My real name.” he offers, tenderly wiping a tear from your cheek, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I’ll explain everything, if you’ll just give me a chance..?”

In one swift motion, he wraps his coat around your shoulders. You look at his eyes, as tender and unchanging as ever— then it dawns on you: he has always been this way.

“Mr. Front Man, sir, everything is ready.”

You let In-ho pull you to your feet, his touch as comforting as ever as the two of you pass by countless guards. They make way for the two of you, the hierarchy crystal clear when not one of them dare to step out of line.

You’ve been such a fool. All the signs were there, the reason why Player 001 carries himself with such grace as if he’s untouchable. How the guards say things about ‘not tolerating actions that will disrupt the votes’ and yet kept quiet when it’s Player 001’s turn to speak his mind. The way they would shuffle away from him slightly whenever he walks—

In-ho turns to look at you, his eyes kind, “Do you trust me?”

Yet, you can’t bring yourself to say no.

note: i know i appeared on the dash absolutely losing it over the recruiter/the salesman/ddakji guy (he’ll get his own fic after this don’t worry) but i took one look at this man with his hair down and i fell into a SPIRAL. this is totally a passion project. front man ftw 🙆‍♀️