#maybe the two of you could hit it off
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thinking about ch0mpkin's evil evbo post (evilbo, if you will) and going "How can I align this with My Interests (the axes)" and the answer is Very easily actually
#thoughts in tags.....#when the cookie crumbles#pciv#pvp civilization#you know. evbo leaving behind everything he knows for his friend and going along with The Plan#constantly telling himself its for the greater good its for the greater good#but the longer he goes on the worse it gets#and both tabi and clown force him to stop diagetically monologuing somehow because otherwise he'll blow their cover#so he just gets quieter and quieter and withdraws more and more#to the point where even tabi is thinking like âdamn maybe i Should've killed him in sword civ...â but he's here now#another thing is i think evbo would 100% buy and sneak another video journal machine out and when tabi finds out she Flips Her Lid#clown is less concerned because he wasn't With them so he doesn't know like tabi does that he spends So Much Time On This Shit#not knowing that (like minute said) video journaling is the biggest reason evbo is able to take in so much new info and maintain himself#and if they straight up take it away from him he's going to get Even Worse#i think clown doesn't see it as much of an issue despite tabi's major objections because he'd literally be talking about their plan On Air#and that tape goes somewhere and is Seen by someone (plus if someone else sees their cover is gone cuz video journals are sword only)#but in his eyes that means the only people who will ever see it are the diamond swords in their ivory tower who can't leave anyways#so why worry? if anything it shows them what they're (the axes) doing to their (the swords) little golden boy and they can't stop it#another thing i thought about is that they would definitely hold killing evbo over his head like. Constantly#and evbo's fear of dying isn't the same because he never died to tabi's axe so he doesn't know zam is waiting for him (which is also funny)#so instead it takes a spin of tabi saying âill kill you and let you respawn in sword civ and you'll stay there with your regretsâ#because even if zam Wasn't still waiting for him he kinda ditched the diamond swords so uh... kinda lost your sense of kinship there#a-NOTHER point of interest: guardfriend#since guards can access all civilizations they'd definitely want to take advantage of his connections and relation with evbo#especially since unless evbo spills the beans he most likely wouldn't know the eternal sword was taken and tabi is the one who took it#let alone that she (and clown by extensionâ but to throw off suspicion he doesn't show up around guard) is a natural born axr#so they can defo use what trust those two have to get places easier#but if he ends up getting in the way... [makes a chopping gesture across my throat]#could even do it in Front of evbo as an example of what happens to those who stand between them and their mission#holy shit this is the first time ive ever hit 30 tags. wtf
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has anybody else thought about how jk could easily manage sofia's parts of slow dance or is it just me?
#jikook#bts#everybody is working to insert jk in who where i just don't see it (other than the seven parallels)#and not talking much about what i see as WAY more obvious nods most especially in rebirth#like jm sings about wanting to be worthy of someone - maybe someone who just became a huge SOLO global popstar?#and mentions 'real love' - what was the name of that chapter in the bangtan book again?#and the feminine pronouns not present it's just the nebulous 'you' that in jimin songs often stands in for 'army'#(and one very specific 'fan' who has said he is ALSO army)#it's the 'i wanna be with you'#the answer for jk's 'i am still' with its unspoken additional 'still with you' layer#and then we get slow dance and we're back to the nebulous 'you' - on an island he-#oh wait what was that about a pair that traveled to an island? and filmed some stuff there that we'll see soon? hm#the reason this set me off though is the lines about 'cancelling my plans' to live to 'the tempo of our favorite song'#the falling deep into lines etc etc#because we know what happens when those two get together - they lose track of time everything else fades away#it's why they haven't done lives. why 'you and me' are 'up all night' why jm knows that as soon as jk is around#his self-discipline will crack and he'll fall into the pattern he tried to head off by separating from jk while making face#and we *know* jimin wrote on this song#frankly if he *hadn't* gotten a female feature everybody would be JUMPING on this song as a jikook anthem#the inclusion of sofia works perfectly - like hammering the pin back in a grenade#but i was reading those lines and thinking how high she went and going who else could sing this ...?#huh. who do we know of who can sing *anything*? and who has a range that can hit and blend with jimin's perfectly?#so. i dunno. y'all do your delulu the way that works for you and i will do my delulu my way lol#personally i think the eyes in the mv look like a screenshot from the love wins all mv but that's only me#i think the parallels with seven work more#and speaking of parallels (there are so many) i think this album was built to ensure jm is on equal footing with a certain someone#it's the commerciality of it - as though jm was like we will be together in this as well#when he seems not to be super interested in global domination but still 'special' enough to be on the same level with his love
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(ïœĄïœ„Ïïœ„ïœĄ)ïŸâĄ
#Alright I got tragically interrupted while watching it but I'm finally finished watching the episode!!#It's really really good both the animation and drawings are very detailed compared to the rest of the anime but...#The pace is so off :((( Like it's not the end of the world but ugh. It's unfortunate...#So many things just don't hit off as deeply because everything is moving so fast all the time and there's no time to process anything.#They won't allow you one second for the last line of a scene to sink in that the next scene's ost is already playing.#And like it's not even the worst crime an anime can commit I guess but still...#I wish they didn't. Like rather than make a 13 episodes season and squeeze the Sky Casino arc in merely two episodes it would have beenâ#a lot better to finish the season at the previous episode and make 12 episodes out of everything (so that everything could be better paced)#Like yeah maybe it's not the best season ending that there can be but... It's not terrible eitherâ you have Atsushi saying the lineâ#âthere's still hopeâ and the season ending thereâ that's pretty cool#I don't know why everyone feels like they have to rush all the time.#Guys do I have to be the one to remind you you make more money if more season come out.#Like how can the knowledge of Sigma being made by the book have any kind of impact when we've only known him for ten minutes.#Teruko's looking mad AND looking cutesy AND blowing up the landing zone didn't have the same comedic effect they did in the manga because..#It just happened all together! There's no time to process anything. Or maybe I'm just slow idk but I mean YOU GOTTAâ#MAKE TIME FOR THE OPENING AND ENDING IN THE EPISODE c'mon man#Sorry I'm complaining it's actually good. I really really love Teruko & Tachihara. Jouno too!!!#I liked the Tahihara spotlight this episode... It's so cute to see what he's like when he's not actingâ wellâ not completely I guess#Mmmmhhh.#Yesterday I read an interesting post on how a lot of early dc/mk wouldn't work today because the technology of the world has changed SO muc#I think a similar reflection can be made for the doa terrorist plot. Countries are pushing towards a complete digital money transition.#In 50 years or so coins may not be circulating anymore and today already the impact of this terrorist plot would be a lot smallerâ#compared to when the chapters were coming out. I think#Well. Nice episode! Forward to next week! If tomorrow's manga chapter hasn't killed me before that#random rambles
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FAVORITE MCR SONG! GO!
OH FUCK UHHHH. UH. dude how could you do this to me /hj
uhh. i am going to say Demolition Lovers. but Augh
#kins tag#asks#fuzzy squeaks#I LOVE ALL OF THEIR SONGS DAMN IT#IT'S SO HARD TO CHOOSE#demolition lovers is definitely my favorite off of Bullets [although early sunsets did hit me like an out-of-control train]#i really love the live performances of demolition lovers too [or at least#yknow#all the ones that i've watched]#augh but Bullets is so cool.#but i think that Early Sunsets and Demolition Lovers are my two favorites#even though the other ones are also awesome#& Demolition Lovers wins over Early Sunsets because . waves hands vaguely.#god i love demolition lovers i am studying it under a microscope.#demolition lovers might also have been the song that really made me start thinking about song structure as well??#unsure. i feel like that might not be true i might just be misremembering. but demo lovers.... i have lots of thoughts. mostly incoherent#i am going to add more tags to this post but i think there is a glitch where tumblr eats my tags so i am going to post this first and then#more tags later. huzzah!#edit: tumblr did not eat my tags this time! yippee!#okay so#my favorite off of Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge........ hmhrmhm. it has been a while since i listened to that album.#cemetery drive used to be my favorite#it's got a super fun Sound. i love the beginning#but there's so many fun ones off of that album as well#i should relisten to three cheers. it's been too long#.........maybe i will relisten to all of their albums#the black parade.......#OH WAIT HANG ON FUCK. I FORGOT. THE GHOST OF YOU!!!! THE GHOST OF YOU.#how the HELL could i forget The Ghost Of You#that song. that fucking song
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OL-F*CK-TORY ETHICS?!
Synopsis. Pheromone perfume? Shouldâve thought about the olfactory ethics of driving him absolutely wiId with them.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pheromone perfume (theyâre affected), they go FĂRAL, slight aphrodĂsiacs, creampĂes, dĂșmbification, tummy buIges, MARATHONS, overstĂm, really nĂ©edy boys, GOJOâS POWERS, full neIsons, making Geto whĂmper, handcĂșffs (Geto), rough s, p sIapping, PĂSSYDRĂNK JJK MEN, pet names, swĂ©aring.
A/N. Yes, I think Iâm a comedian for that title.

⥠TOJI FUSHIGURO - BREAK HIM!
âP-please-âÂ
âHm?â
âPlease, dollâŠâ
And itâs the first time in your life that youâve heard Toji Fushiguro beg - the first ever time in his life that he has. Low, rasping over the deafening snap! of the poor headboard splitting in half, âMercy- mâbegging ya. Mercy.â
Itâs hard to think that just a few hours ago, he was trying not to snicker with smugness - pheromone perfume. Really? As if anything in that shiny, half-off bottle could make him lose his composure.Â
âSuch a silly girlââ Toji had rolled his sage eyes down at you. Tutting at the way you were impatiently sprawled over his lap, waiting for his word. Leisurely, heâd leaned inâ well whatever his lady wants. âTold ya already, this stuff isnât gonna m-make me-â
Oh.
And that was hours ago. Hours.Â
But here Toji was bullying his furiously sweat-slicked face into the heady crook of your neck - taking only one singular whiff before he flinches. Hips rutting mindlessly into yours with a smack! âO-oh, weâre not making it hngh! outta this alive, ma.â
It was the fourth time in the past few minutes that heâs babbling those very words into your perspired skin. The fourth time.Â
He was broken.
Managing out only a few throaty whimpers when youâre shuffling onto your elbows, all you have to do is give one fluttering squeeze of your gummy walls before something hits your arched spine with a wet splat!
Multiple. Tears.Â
âF-fuuuuckââ Heâs hissing, sexy baritone thickened with clingy sobs. And the only thing sloppier than Tojiâs unsteady tone, was his cock. Ruthless. âFuck- fuck fuck fuckââ
âNeed a lilâ h-help, baby?â You find yourself purring, head tilting ever-so-slightly over your shoulder to bare Toji with even more of your scented throat. Clouded wafts of it puffing over to his darkened features and making him gaspâ âBecause-â
In only a split-second, youâre not even sure what you were about to say - what happened other than Toji shoving you face-first into the cushy pillow in nanoseconds.Â
Staggering strength leaving the bulging biceps on his big, beefy arms flex, and you keening away into your soft landing. Boneless legs stumbling onto the bed once he tilts his bodyweight onto yours and makes you stumble, âT-Toojiâ!â
Oh, the sound of his name in your honeyed tone makes Tojiâs hulking voice break out in shivers.Â
âS-sâit turn you on ta see me like this?â Punctured with solid, pounding plaps! of his bloated tip against your springy cervix, such a staggering size that tenderized every sliver inside your heated cunt without even trying. His massive arms tremble, âTo see me a-all pathetic and ngh- weak?â
Weak.Â
But the way he was pinning you down onto the creaking bedcoils and slamming jagged bruises onto your mounds of flesh from behind was anything but.
âM-maybe?â Oh, he definitely was fucking you stupid - because you find yourself giggling. Globs of slippery drool overspilling from your slack maw and drenching the puffy pillow underneath you. So wet nâ utterly filthy that it makes your thighs squeeze, âYouâre s-so cute, Toji.â
âDonât- donât you fuckinâââ Immediately leaving one spank on your puffed-up clit. Two. Three, just for good measure- shit, Toji really canât help but bring those sappy, glazed-over fingerpads to his mouth and sucking.Â
And the sugary sweet taste makes the man moan.Â
âFuck- fuck, did that p-perfume make her taste even sweeter or what?âÂ
Before you know it, Tojiâs hard, Herculean front is sagging downwards into yours - hunching over, collapsing. He can barely keep his eyelids held open, let alone his glissading body.Â
Sinking you ever-deeper into the plush mattress, you swear you could count each and every rock-hard ab pressing into you. The curvy massage of Tojiâs pecs rendering your mouth to let off a soft mewl.
And heâs rough above you. Still fucking you in a way that makes your sturdy bed splinter. Dark tufts from Tojiâs happy trail scratching the very tip-top of your papping ass with every merciless whack.
âGonna tell ya a s-secret-â He spills in breathy puffs against your ear, nuzzling the pointed tip of his nose against where your perfume was the most potent. Drinking you in. Gasping. â-b-better not tell ngh- anyone- got it, ma?â
And you almost get the urge to tilt your head back and confirm that this was really your Toji.
Because not only were his choked-up words making you dizzy, so was the way that he sounded right about not. Voice numerous octaves higher, cracking.Â
Youâd have half the mind to tease him about it if the entirety of your fuzzy head wasnât completely overtaken by simply the thought of Toij Toji Toji-
âOi- oi!â Three harshly repeated smacks to the side of your cheek wrench you from your little daydream, until youâre being manhandled with a few fingers around your throat to gaze up at the man himself. Growling, âN-no zoninâ out on me just yet- gotta tell ya h-how much it turns me on, tooâŠâ
Oh? Oh.
And as soon as he starts, he canât stop. Canât slow down the prattling words spat into your mouth - all teeth and something lecherous.Â
Youâre squealing once one of his splayed-out palms rover to the bumpy outline of him fucking a tummy bulge into you.Â
Skimming across until he could practically feel the rapid ba-dumpâ! ba-dumpâ! ba-dumpâ! being crashed into all your magical spots, âL-look at you taking it allll. Look how hard I am- feel how hngh- fucking hardââÂ
He doesnât even have to finish his sentence for you to know. For you to feel.
Another heavy gulp of the thick air surrounding you two - of that familiar candied smell - and heâs like an animal. Swollen cock stretching your goopy walls until they were wiiidely agape, throbbing a few solid centimeters wider in circumference.Â
âHow fucking big. Yeah? Hngh- t-takinâ it all like a big girl, arenât ya?âÂ
Getting harder just from the perfume. From you.Â
One hand desperately claws at his own bustling bulge, the other smearing over your overstuffed pussy.
âO-oh, god-â Your eyes sprint needily to the back of your head, head pushing into the soaked pillows. Tojiâs ministrations were heavenly, rubbing quick, jerky heart all over your sugar-coated clit. Faster. âK-keep doing that nâ mâgonna c-cum.â
âMâonly getting harder. Needier- fuck, I need you-â Swirling his fat thumb in circles right on time with his globular tip, âMy big girl- w-with her ngh- big perfumes. Fuck-â You donât think Toji even registers when he plants a delicate peck where your scent was the strongest. Moaning. Before pressing two more, three, four- âDonât want- Need you to c-cum fâme. Need to feel that ngh- pretty pussy cum âround my big fuckinâ cock.â
Youâre raking your nails down his toned forearms, âClose. C-close.â
âFucking cum.â
And when you so, your silken soft walls are squeezing Tojiâs veiny shaft so tight that it takes him everything in him to fuck you through each white-hot peak. Dragging you across your starry high and then some-
Wiping away a trickling spray of his own drool, Toji feels himself laugh - low and humorless. Youâve found his weakness.
⥠NANAMI KENTO - Mr. CEO
Nanami Kento was a gentleman. The perfect sweetheart.
But that was the complete opposite of the way that said Nanami Kento currently had you shoved face-down into his cool mahogany office desk, your delirious tears spilling over in rippling puddles over the expensive wood while he fucked you like he hated you.
âFuck-â heâs spitting into your open maw, fingers loosening his overpriced tie. Your popped ears ring with a sharp riiiipâ! once he tugs your tight satin skirt even higher, rough. âFuck- not again, darling.â
Before you can even think of gurgling out any coherent syllables, his ragged palm comes striking down on the surface mere inches away from your face with a deafening SLAM!
Meaty thighs rippling with copious shivers from right behind you - Nanami was letting himself heave, he was letting his muscular body pin you down. Sliding the ladder-like ridges of his abs down your arched back.
âShit. Shit shit shit- not again. Mânot supposed ta-â Cutting himself off - gasping - and itâs a sheer miracle that he can even manage to wrench out those growling words at this point. Breath puncturing with a low ah! ah! ah! after every hit of his toned hips against your ass. âI donâtâŠdonât know why-â
AlmostâŠferal.
Youâre both letting your heads drop down at a drunken pace to catch the splat! of those first few ribbons of cum being slipped past your folds.Â
Every bludgeoning inch of Nanamiâs coral pink crownhead plugs your leaky hole full. Heâs fucking in those dewdrops of seed to maze across your gummy walls, leaving sweltering hot geysers pooling on your cervix.
So hot.Â
And in the corner of your eye, youâre catching him reel those powerful hips back until only the very tip of his swollen cock was softly pecking your entrance. âCanât- canât stop cumming- fuck!â
âWh-what?â Youâre not sure if you heard him right.
âCanât stop, mâsorryââ He draws a slow five circles around your quivering hole with the very edge. A glossy white lip gloss that cakes over your pussy folds like icing. âWonât stop cumming. Haaah- your cute cuntâŠsâdrivinâ me mad.â
You feel Nanamiâs round-ended thumb plug up the weeping orifice right in the middle of his cockhead, trying- failing to stop his trickling rivulets of creamy seed. Before letting out a pained huff and filling you once more to the very brimâ
It was so much. Too much. And it just pained him to not be all sunken inside your hot, pretty pussy.
You whimper at the taut stretch, stumbling onto your unsteady elbows to peek at your husband. âI-is everything alright, Ken?â
Desperate.
You havenât seen Nanami look this gone - eyes so hooded they were almost shuttered closed, mouth forever parted in awe, cheeks burning with a bright red blush - since the first time he ever fucked you.
So warm and dizzy.Â
Your fluttery walls squeeze involuntarily around his puffed-up veins, as if youâre trying to memorize every jagged pattern. Heart racing once leans in with a vulgarly handsome snarl-
âStill here.â He gruffs out a throaty murmur into your rapidly beating pulse, teeth nipping dangerously over the drumming staccato as if to warn look what I can do, my love. And the expression plastered all over his face is nothing if not crazed, âStill there.â
Fuck, that same mantra over nâ over again.
âWh-what do you mean, Ken?â It takes everything in you to voice out, even the leaking cum that Nanami scoops up dutifully doesnât compare to just how much wetter your cunt gets at the hoarse baritone of his voice. He was so effortlessly sexy.
âItâs- itâs still there, darling.â And youâve never heard your stoic husband sound soâŠruined. Like he was on the verge of crying - or damn near breaking you in half. Or both.
And how could Nanami Kento have become the boss if he didnât multitask? Â
He was still pounding long, rummaging inches into you after every syllable spoken - hitting the bruised and battered target of your g-spot with a sickly sweet ba-dump! every single time. Not even slowing down to let himself catch his breath after his previous orgasm.
He wouldnât.
He couldnât.
Because even though Nanamiâs molten eyes were stinging with tears from the utter sensitivity, even though he could feel his hefty balls flinch tenderly every time they thwacked against the front of your cunt - he still found something dark and deep inside of him begging for more more more.Â
Body moving before he could even control.
In only nanoseconds, Nanami interlaces a clawed grip around your throat to haul you up like some glamorized doll. Eyes widening, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and gasps.
âTh-this-â And Nanami Kento never stutters, he never lets his statuesque facade crack with the beginnings of something that almost looks shy. Your stomach twists at the way his cerise lower lip wobbles adorably, â-what is this, my love?â
âHmmâ? Oh.â And then it finally hits you. âA n-new perfume?â
Although it looks like it wasnât just a perfume. Fuck, you shouldâve looked at the packaging a little closer.Â
But Nanami doesnât answer. He doesnât utter a word. Does nothing but let his lungs drag in a generous heaval of your scent.
And itâs enough to send his needy cock crashing into the very bottom of your sloppy pussy. Your hands scramble for anything - and land on the golden name plate emblazoned with CEO NANAMI while he draws up a looong wet glide. Prying apart the papping mounds of your ass to rut into you impossibly deeper.Â
Nanamiâs vision clouds and heâs not sure if itâs from the force of the countless orgasms or simply you. His gorgeous wife.Â
Wait- wife?
Before he knows it - before he can stop himself - heâs babbling away, âMarry me- marry me, my love.â
âButâŠâ Youâre reaching over to tangle your fingertips through his dishevelled strands of gold with a smile. Thumbing away that perspired furrow in his brow, âWeâre already hah! married, Kento.â
Oh?
And Nanami Kento trusts you above him. Which is why he finds his eyes rovering down to steal a glance at your pretty ring finger and- oh. You were right.Â
âMhmâ thaâs me, Kento. Your husband.â Heâs breathing out, one hand tracing over the staggeringly large rock homed prettily on your wedding ring.Â
And the other- the other was letting his fat fingerpads swipe down your buttery slit, topping itself with sweltering hot ounces of cum. Before promptly pushing past your wobbly lips, âNow suck ânless you want the whole office to hear about your ph-pheromone perfume.â
⥠GETO SUGURU - T-take it, dammit-
âYou- you bitch.â Geto Suguru looked so pretty like this - amethyst eyes fighting to stay open in anger and need, curtaining inky hair splayed out like a halo underneath him. Each growling snarl of his only growing raspier by the minute, âFucking knew this would h-happen, didnât you?â
Did you just hear the oh-so-suave Geto Suguru stutter?
And itâs just about all you can do to keep yourself from snickering, hands planting precariously onto the delicious curve of his deltoids. The bulging flex of his toned muscles makes your mouth water, âOh? I donât know what you mean, Suguââ
Getoâs rolling his eyes - but his hips were speaking a completely different language. Rolling up off of the sticky hold of the bedsheets to give your g-spot a good, lengthy skim of his ruby-red tip.
Heâs tugging one shackled wrist, âSâthat why ya have me in this, gorgeous?âÂ
Ah, and how could you forget your favorite part about tonight?Â
Those fuzzy pink handcuffs that youâd goaded your dear boyfriend into wearing, all smug smiles and chuckles until youâd leaned down to give him an innocent peck. And then let him smell-
âSh-shit. Look what youâve done tâme.â Heâs hissing into your loosened mouth, snatching your pouted lips into such a bruising, bruising kiss. Sharpened canines digging into your bottom lip, he practically gulps in the breaths of your special perfume. âYou and th-this heavenly pussy and that- godforsaken pheromone perfume.â
You were making a fool out of him - all with a âspecial perfumeâ that heâd bought for you at your pleas. Idiot, he didnât even read the box before gifting it to you.
Geto throws his head back with a drawling grunt when the only reply he gets is your pretty smile. âFuck- fuck!â
Voice pitching up in volume higher and higher- and he was sure he looked crazed right about now. Hips rutting cleanly off of the mattress to spearhead you with so many copious inches. More.Â
It was already hard enough keeping himself smooth nâ composed every time he usually sunk past your velvety walls - you drove him wild without even trying. But now?Â
Now this stupid âperfumeâ of yours was here to do the very same thing, only tenfold because it was his beautiful girl wearing it.
Oh.
Geto thanks he can feel himself going wild.
The extra heavy-duty handcuffs sing out a metallic creakâ! once he tugs particularly harshly, trembling fingertips aching to feel every inch of your glissading body. You were riding him at such a maddening tempo. Your hips hitting the very back of his generously curved balls, before gyrating your puffy clit down in a slooow grind up his toned abdomen â but he wanted more.
It wasnât enough. It would never be enough when Geto was like this.
âWhen- when I break out of these oh!â With every empty threat puffed out into the heady air, Geto finds his achingly hard cock weeping even more thick rivulets of pre. Lungs filling up with hypnotic volumes and volumes of that scent. He can feel himself fucking tearing up, âF-fuck you.â
He was so sexy like this.Â
Trying oh-so-desperately to pretend that those collisions into your gooey depths didnât have his toes curling, heavy lids falling shut to hide away just how fast Getoâs eyes were sliding to the very back of his head.
Youâre arching a brow, âOh? What was that?â
Lips sleazing backwards into a pussydrunken grin, you had the inkling that Geto didnât even realize what he was babbling away at this point. He couldnât even think. âI-I said fuck-âÂ
Mouth still moving. Soundless.
And all it takes is a mere touch of your sensory fingertips caressing his sweat-lathered temple to render Geto speechless.
âW-waitââ He breathes out, and he sounds hysterical right now. Venomous tone lilting countless octaves higher and wobbling as if he was about to break. His chest caves in with a low pleaseâ! once youâre streaking your digits through his silky hair, shivering as if being shocked with a thousand voltages. Pulling. âNot fair. Not fair not- fuck thaâs not fair tâme, gorgeous.â
You already knew that the pheromone perfume had someâŠaphrodisiacal effects. But it seemed that Geto was extra sensitive to it. Cute.Â
âYes, and?â Just for good measure - oh, you were thoroughly enjoying this - youâre trekking your stray fingertips to latch onto the gleaming curve of his throat. Bringing your scented neck even closer-
âOh.â Getoâs snarky mouth now floods with a silvery plash of scorching hot saliva, fucked out of him after every resounding slam! of your hips down on his. You watch as his weightily lidded eyes glaze over with a film of something murky.
Continuing to wrench needily at his restraints. Desperately. It was like a second nature for Geto to touch you and right now he was ruined. You canât help but ogle the rounded flex of his biceps-
âGonna- fuck.â He whimpers - whimpers - out, nose crinkling. It made you much too drenched when he leans in mindlessly to rub the buttony tip of it against yours in a lazy kiss. Maw slacking every time you pumped his achily swollen cock across your most tender spots, the orifice of your hole massaging his reactive shaft so greedily. âMâcloseâŠâ
Whispering, right now, as if it was the most dear confession.Â
Because Geto Suguru never came before heâd made you reach your orgasm at least five times over.
But right now he was teetering right over the very high edge of it, so close. His thick, sculpted thighs push up from behind your motioning body to urge your bounces vulgarly faster, skin-to-skin.Â
âC-close.â And it sounded almost pained if you didnât feel the way it was accompanied by a hastily slipped spasm of Getoâs ballooned-up crownhead against your cervix. Too close. His beautiful head lolls backwards against the tear-streaked pillows, âMâgonna- mâgonna-â
Before snapping up furiously again when your merciless pace stops.
And all you can get out is a not-so-innocent, âWhoops.â
All you can get out - because it takes Geto exactly two split-seconds to snap! those useless pink handcuffs off of him and flip the two of you over to tower over you in all his glory. Speckles of frustrated sweat slithering between his bulging pecs and down onto your heaving body.
Heâd let you have your fun, already.
Geto moves slow. Calculated.Â
Leisurely meandering his face all over your thrumming throat, your tits, everywhere and anywhere that godforsaken pheromone perfume was calling to him. Taking in looong languid breaths of it - and each time he did, heâs fucking up into you like he didnât even realize.Â
Pounding you into the drenched silken sheets with all girthy inches of his circumference, branding it into your slippery womb like he didnât want you to forget.Â
Youâre hit with the sudden remembrance that there was a reason you had to tie Geto up.Â
And that is when you catch his gaze - wide, unfocused. Feral.Â
Oh, you were fucked.Â
So very fucked.Â
âSo.â Geto shatters your anticipatory realization with a throaty few syllables, hoarse like he wasnât even ready for himself to speak at that point. Without a single warning, he spits - right in your mouth once. Then twice onto two slender fingers, before giving your cunt a stinging spank. âYa gonna beg for mercy now or later, gorgeous?â
⥠CHOSO KAMO - H.O.T.T.O.G.O.
God, if this was any other time then maybe Choso wouldâve felt embarrassed about the way he was letting his clammy palms cling onto your waist like he never wanted you to let go.Â
Because he didnât. Would never.Â
Huffing and puffing out clouded puffs of air into the sticky valley of your chest, heâs just so drunk on you. Can feel himself veering lazily into the pillow, drenching it with gumdrops of thick saliva. It takes everything in him to lift his head and puff in smoky breaths of your pheromones. Â
And it makes him burn. So hot rutting up into you, skin-on-skin.Â
Probing veins scouring your every nook and cranny, ruthless shaft the complete opposite of just how delicately he was boring down at you. Choso was nudging his ballooned-up cock past your puffy hole like he was making you melt around him.
Making you break - just as much as he was right now.Â
And the only thing hotter is the way the slithering muscle of Chosoâs pierced tongue lolls outwards to skim the buttery splotches of cum scattered across your tits from before. Shiny Prince Albertâs cooling you hardened nipples.
Eyes reeling to the very hidden backs of his hooded lids, heâs moaning at the salted caramel taste of himself. âS-so hot. So soft inside, mâ l-losing my mind.â
Youâre just soaked skin-deep with him.Â
And youâre blaming it all on that strange perfume - a pheromone perfume - that that assistant had dabbed on you at the store. Youâd forgotten just howâŠsensitive curses can be to smells.Â
How feral.
Finding your heart racing at the way he was narrating off every single thing, every single twitch inside you that slid across your gluey magical spots. âSâthat so, Cho?â
Usually, Choso would nod away deliriously to your every word. Usually, he would prattle on sweet, sweet simperings of his very own.
But right now, you watch in slight awe as the pale skin of his pretty cheekbones scorch over with a brightly blossoming blush. The heat of it so feverishly hot that you can almost feel it, and Choso bucks his hips wildly into you with a low keen at the back of his throat.
âD-donât call me that.â Heâs straining out through a shiver. Lower lip fussed until it was a pouted cherry pink. You swear the moment Choso leans closer you see his long mahogany lashes glisten with tears. His big, beefy arms finding their way around your body, âSâgonnaâŠgonna make me cum. Gonna- fuck!â
As if to prove his point, the perked hill of his fattened cockhead splits with glossy white swabs of pre. Buttering up your deepest insides and promising more.Â
Youâre tugging him in ever-closer, the look in your glassy eyes so loving that he feels his length pump greedy ounces more and swell. Growing girthier - pushing your glutinous walls further nâ further apart just from the way youâre staring at him.Â
How he loved you.
You hum, âBut I want you to, Cho. No need to be shy.â
Something in him breaks. And just the thought of it is enough to make the special grade in front of you drool.
Slick rivers of spittle streaming from between his jaw, unhinging when he inches in to gift your surprised tongue with a weighty splat! of webbed spit. He breathes out past the breathless bubble, âNo no no no- D-donât say things like that, babyâ Iâm notâŠmyself, right now.â
Tasting him. All of him.
The sugary sweet coating lathers your tastebuds and makes you whine, your legs stumbling around Chosoâs toned hips. You can feel every tense of his toned core, count all eight of his washboard abs, âS-sâthis the ngh! pheromone perfume, babyâ? Maybe I should wear it more hck! often-â
âNo.â
No?
And Choso can bash himself for interrupting his lovely lady later - but right now, he was frenzied.Â
Gulping voluminous lungfuls of that scent - of you.Â
Deftly practiced fingers entrap your plummy clit and roll over not circles, not hearts- no, the letters of his name over nâ over. Branding the perked hood of your nub until you could feel your eyes burst with stars, Choso was ravenous.Â
âSâbecause- because itâs you.â He gasps out thickly, smooth baritone unsteady under the weight of all those tears painting smudged eyeliner down his pretty cheeks. âYour scent, n-not that ngh- perfume.â Youâre flinching at the looong drag of his scratchy tastebuds dragging over your scented throat. Or, well, previously scented throat. He was addicted to you. âYou have me- have me in heat, lilâ human, nâ itâs making meâŠâ
Wild.
If Choso was any lesser man then he wouldâve dragged you halfway down the bedcoils and thrown your legs haphazardly over his shoulders. Folding you in half to pound you into the mattress until you were dumb.
But, luckily for your dripping cunt, Choso was that lesser man right now.Â
He doesnât think he feels alive - canât even register his wheezing breaths once heâs manhandling you into the densest possible mating press.Â
Strong biceps rippling, chest heaving-
His fuzzy brain only sparks with recognition when Chosoâs heavy breeder balls clench once, twice, thrice at the way your drooling pussy was laminating his rounded curve with a slimy coating of slick. Thatâs when he can feel himself actually startle, actually see.
And fuck, was it a sight enough to make him cum if he wasnât so entranced with that prettily awestruck look on your face.Â
âCanât even feel m-my legs, baby-â Heâs spitting through clenched teeth, stray strands of coffee brown plastering all across his sweat-slicked forehead. And something in Chosoâs voice wasâŠdark. Dangerous. You were in trouble. â-canât th-think of anything but ngh- breeding this pretty pussy right now.â
Oh.
Oh.
Thatâs what he meant by a heat.
âMhmâ my clever girl.â Shit- did you say that out loud? Rewarding your cutely spellbound mind with a hefty thud! thud! thud! right onto what feels like your lungs. He had all the time in the world to fuck you stupid, after all. âMy mate.â
⥠RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sweetener
âH-heh- say that again, silly human.â
âA pheromone perfume.â Youâre squirming impatiently, words sticking to the back of your throat in saccharine gasps. And even the tiniest of gyrations leave Sukunaâs ruby-topped heads kissinâ sultry circles around your weeping hole.Â
Leave you wanting more.
Snickering, âA fucking- pheromone- what?âÂ
The monstrous king of curses displays you with a rugged sneer that makes your folds even more impossibly watery. Just for those stupid words stumbling from your mouth, youâre gifted with one - two - three solid spanks, elongated black nails curling into the stinging mounds of your ass.Â
Itâs all you can do to grapple on helplessly to the mountain of his toned shoulders, fingers clawing red train tracks that look more like kitten scratches on him. âK-Kunaâ!â
âDonât K-Kuna me, brat.â Raw need coats the scorching innards of your mouth when he only rolls his crimson eyes, burning hot. And out of all four of Sukunaâs beefy arms, it only takes one to latch onto the curve of your hips and hover you unstably over his doubly swollen cocks. Tutting, âWhat? You think some h-human perfume will control Ryomen Sukuna. I mustâve fucked ya dumb already.â
So mean.
But Sukuna always did have a soft spot for you.
And all is a single criss-cross of your wobbly arms, kiss-bitten lips puckering up into the beginnings of his only weakness â your pout.Â
âFine. Fine, spoiled girl.â It works.
Yet, youâre shivering at the thwack! thwack! thwack! of his doughy-tipped fingers swatting your plump clit. Pecs puffing out with pride and smugness when your eyes glaze over at them and you stare.
It happens all at once. In an instant.Â
As soon as both of Sukunaâs round, throbbing cockheads crown the edges of your drooling pussy - he leans sultry inches closer and finally, finally smells it. That.Â
That scented perfume youâd found in your kingâs centuries-old treasury, untouched and just ripe for your picking. For Sukuna to get hit with a thorough blast of it off of your heated skin, simply taking one whiff to addle his honed senses.
Undoing years upon years of painstaking training to make your great king of curses halt, jagged canines baring you with a predatory snarl. âTh-think this can affect oh-â
Who was he against you?Â
Your entire body vibrates when Sukunaâs chest rumbles with something carnal. Bursting from the very depths of his chest and making you shiver.
The thunderous noise has barely even stopped ringing in your ears before heâs latching on two massive hands to your waist and pulling you in. No care, no hesitation - nothing but drooling with the anticipation of being buried inside your slick-flooding pussy.
He needed it.
And he can feel his head fall headily backwards at the shuddering thud! of Sukunaâs two proud tips skimming the ends of your spongy cervix. Hooked fangs snatching onto the jut of his bottom lip at the bouncy recoil-Â
Fuck, he didnât want to separate from your gummy walls for even a split-second. Even if it was to let your hips bounce in lecherous swivels up nâ down up nâ down up nâ down.
âSh-shit, youâre in so ngh- deep.âÂ
Itâs a slow tempo, but you never got used to the stretch that was Sukunaâs staggering sizes.Â
Both aching cocks were so unfairly long and hard that he didnât even have to try to smear his puffy veins over your awaiting g-spot. You swear both lengths reached well over a foot, and just having him bottom out had you scrambling to caress the inflated tummy bulge he was fucking into you.Â
Your jaw hangs open, a syrupy waterfall of saliva dribbling all over your chin. Youâre not sure if Sukuna even registers the way heâs tenderly swiping away the overspilling excess with a fat thumb.Â
âKuna?â You have to stop yourself from almost flinching away, feeling oh-so-shy at the burning heart-eyes in his gaze. The way a fourth arm was patting the sinful cylindrical outline leading up from your puffy pussy. Reaching an arm to stroke his sweat-matted pink locks, âA-are you okay?â
The moment your fingers skim any part - any minute millimeter - of Sukunaâs body, heâs whimpering. Whimpering.Â
And if that was the worst of it, then maybe he could have gathered up some semblance of his shattered dignity.Â
But Sukuna isnât simply making pretty noises - heâs cumming.Â
One touch. And a thousand torrents of cum sugarcoating your claggy walls.Â
So much of it. Too much of it - it sweeps through your gluey walls and forms a little puddle âround his bulky bases. Creamily filthy mixtures of seed and slick ringing Sukunaâs base, they hit your perked clit with a wet pap! each time youâre milking him through his peaks.Â
âD-did you just-â
âShut up.â He bites back, leaving you no time for the realization to sink in - before curling a vice-like hand around your throat and making you slam down your hips. âShut up.â
Sudden, striking hits that bruise the curve of your ass just as much as it bruised your battered insides. You were so hot. So soft that it made him dizzy. Melty depths being contracted around thick lengths, the pace at which your greedy pussy was swallowing him up almost made the king want to whine-
âO-oh my god.â
It did make him whine.
With a creaking squeak! of cushion, Sukunaâs sculpted hips lurch off of the decadent royal mattress in repeated ruts. Animalistic.
âShut up- I s-said ngh- sânot my fault.â He spits out, angry dewdrops of steamy pre being streaked out in twin ribbons into the back of your cunt. âNot my fault you just feel so- so ohhh- f-fuck you, brat. I-if the rest of âem found outâŠâ
But Sukuna already knew he was weak for you. He knew.
Just not to this extent.Â
Not till just a simple cloud of your scent made his vision swim, a fresh wave of drool slipping nâ sliding from between the traitorous slit of his mouth. Both of them.
âM-mhmââ You find yourself smiling - maybe from his reaction, maybe from the way you were being fucked so thoroughly right. The knobbled tops of your knees skid easily across Sukunaâs drenched lap when you straddle him even even tighter, âSâthat why-â
He wanted you to shut up. He needed you to shut up or else he was going to fucking cum again.Â
Which is why his second cursed mouth opens wiiiide to puff your cunt with steamily clouded pants. Before rolling out his tongue and dragging up the entirety of your bulging pussy. All overfilled with him.
âA-another wordââ Sukunaâs seething through clenched teeth, but itâs no use. None. Not when the way you lean in to listen closer is enough to make the king blush, â-a-and I make you walk a- ngh! around the entire day with my cum all safe nâ sound inside..â
⥠INO TAKUMA - âU-use me?â
âWh-what?â
And for the first time in hours, Ino manages to meet his hazy chestnut eyes with yours. Shivering. Half-lidded. âUse me.â
Fuck.
You thought your beloved boyfriend would regain his senses by the second round- no, perhaps the third timeâs the charm.
Okay, maybe the fourth? The fifth?
But even after six looong rounds, your splintered bedframe was still trilling with shrill creaks; sagging uselessly on one end as strong, tannish arms stick ever-closer to your body like glue. Folding you into the meanest nâ tightest full nelson possible.Â
Still scorching. Still needy after getting hit with just a waft of that pheromone your friends bought you as a joke. A joke.Â
But this was anything but.
Ino canât even bring himself to wipe away the wads upon wads of slippery drool leaking from his maw after every mushy thud of his globular cockhead against the very back of your goopy cervix. He canât even think.
âPuh-please.â Heâs hiccuping, soft tipped fingers clawing near the sweaty crown of your head to push you further down. Lapping a lazy stripe up your scented neck, âJust one moreâ ngh! Need you t-to use me to make yerself cum once more, sweetness.â
âM-more?â
And oh, your voice was warbling with such cute disbelief that it makes Ino groan. âYes. Yes.â
Planting a few more vicious plunges of his strawberry pink tip into the target of your favorite sweet spots - Inoâs favorites, too. Especially once your puffy pussylips part with numerous geysers of slick, flooding translucent rings at his base.Â
All without even looking up from your neck.
He canât.
Inoâs entire body wracks with tremors when he even tries to pull away a mere inch. Two. All that he can manage before nuzzling back in with heavy repeated pants.
Youâre only getting wetter - and that maddening little perfume one you? Only stronger.Â
He swears - fuck, maybe heâs going crazy - that he can smell just how close you are, how your tummyâs tightening into wiry knots.Â
âBut- but are you sure, babyâ?â Your fingers scratch at the tawny ends of his damp locks, a primal itch so heavenly that he almost purrs. âMâwondering if you even can-â
âI can-â Heâs cutting you off, free fingers straying down to the slightly-softening base of Inoâs furious cock and squeezing. Rutting up into you with wild abandon, âI can. I can- promise, sweetness, I promise.â
âTakuââ
And throughout Inoâs hazy mind, your words ring out like a death sentence. Like a punishment. Causing him to snap open his eyes with a sharp intaking gasp, round-topped curves of his knees manhandling your thighs further nâ further open.
You whine at the burning smear, head throwing backwards in a way that makes his slow rovering over your neck break away-
And if Ino was upset before, then heâs simply devastated now.
Sounding like heâs on the verge of sobbing, âNo. No no no no no- donât run, pretty.â Like catnip. Like a moth drawn to your frame, heâs wrapping his jittery forearms around you until you could count every twitch of his sculptured forearms. Crushing you in close. âLook at yourself- smell yourself. Fuck, I need it. Mânot asking, mâb-begging you to use me like aâŠtoy.â
He almost wishes he could bring himself to lurch away from that haven of pheromones dabbed across your skin.Â
Almost wishes he could do anything else but swivel a fat thumb across your weepy folds, bringing it allll the way up to his eager nose to steal a long sniff.Â
Filthy.Â
But itâs exactly what makes Inoâs swollen cock perk up with an animalistic flinch inside of you, probing into the target of your g-spot dead on.Â
âShit- shitâ y-you just got so much bigger.â Your vision flashes blissful white when his length stiffens into even longer nâ sold inches, swabbing at your precious cunt with pressurized pounds. And whatever ounces of blood left in his melty mind? Oh, theyâre sprinting all the way down Inoâs boiling veins to end up bloating his throbbing cock.Â
Getting hard just by the smell of you.
âO-oh.â Youâre being bounced on top of his toned pecs when they dip with a sudden hitched breath. âYes. Yes yes yes, jusâ like that. Love everythinâ about this ngh- pussy, sheâs started smelling sweeter e-even here, too. Fuck, youâre a goddess, pretty.â
Sounding as if he was in such heavenly agony - husky voice cracking a few octaves higher. His hold so vice-like on you that you can already feel yourself bruising.Â
Sloppier. Needier.
Shit- Ino needed to see that dumbstruck look surely being fucked onto your face. Heâs finding himself moving - body before mind - to face that reflective, floor-length mirror propped up at the end of your bed.Â
He always knew that thing would come in handy.
Youâre croaking out a moan at the wet texture of Inoâs mouth watering, sprinkling your heated skin with spatters of spit.
But who could blame him?
It was such a sultry sight - to watch your bloated lips be pried apart by his reddened circumference, spraying out saturated glazes of your sweet, sweet juices each and every time.Â
âSee? See?â Inoâs murked puffs tinge with something higher-pitched and wild. Pearly white edges of his teeth sink into your delicate lobe, and make your skin break out in goosebumps. âHow fucked you have me. Think mâgonna hngh- die if I donât fuh-fuck this pretty pussy. If I donât make you cum-â
Shit, he doesnât even want to imagine the thought.
Your kiss-bitten mouth slackens into a loose oh! âWanna- I wanna cum, Takuââ Twisting your head âround to face him with a slight pout that makes his entire body jolt.
âY-yeah?â So, so pretty with a dopey smile being spread all across his face, youâre leaning in to kiss the cratering dimple at the edge of his plump lips. âCâmon. Fuck back into me- ngh- use me ta make yerself cum.â
Youâre heading his every word, thighs aching at the fatigued pain of bouncing your hips in a resounding pap! pap! pap! Grinding your treacly slit all the way back into his fattened balls, âL-like this?â
âAtta girl. Harder, now.â His brows furrow. âHarder.â
More more more.
Words petering out halfway into a snarl at this point, you glimpse at the glint of Inoâs sharp canines peeking through the mirror. âFuck me. Fuck me, pretty.â
âTaku.â
And youâre not sure who wanted you to cum more - you, or your feverish boyfriend.Â
But your spellbound self had some semblance of an answer when the sound of his name on your honeyed tongue makes Ino flinch as if hit with a zillion volts of electricity.makes him dart down a hand to grace your neglected clit with an oh-so-rude pinch.
Inoâs fuzzy brain wasnât even working enough to remember those patterns you loved so much. To remember just how to make his body move.
All he knew was that he needed this.
Needed the way youâre arching your spine into the perfect curvature against his glissading front, head thrown back with a mewl of Takuâ! once you finally tip over the edge.
He finds his mouth falling gape, âY-youâre so fucking hot.â Eyes locked on the trembly image of you in the mirror, he fucks you through every white-hot peak of your high. Babbling away,âDid your dear Taku m-make you cum, sweetness? Does it feel good?Â
Oh, the audacity of him to tip a few thick digits underneath your chin and force you to nod.Â
Giggling, âThought so-â And then it happens. Then, he leans in for a sweet, sweet kiss as he usually does - only to be wafted with a murky cloud of pheromone perfume. Again. You watch as Ino blushes a soft pink, âHey, p-prettyâŠsoâŠâ
⥠GOJO SATORU - Everyday is everyday.
Everyday means everyday - and it still wouldnât be enough. Not even after so many countless rounds and rounds.
Never, for a Gojo Satoru that has to grit his pearly white teeth viciously to stop himself from using just an ounce too much of his strength on your pliable body and breaking you.Â
Snarling canines peeking out just when he nestles your legs over two broad shoulders and bends down, down, down in half.Â
âHngh- pleaseââ Your chin hits the heaving edges of your chest at the burn of the sheer stretch. Gojoâs muscular thighs sticking against your own and pressing into the inflated little pouch heâd made at your tummy. Filled to the brim with his sappy cum-
âTh-thatâs all your fault, yâknowââ Heâs hissing, handsome jaw clenching desperately to stop those tremoring keens from invading his words. He fails. And Gojo can already tell by the smug smile curling your lips, â-all b-because of you and that fuck! damn perfume.â
Nevermind that he was the one that bought it for you in the first place - some niche, overpriced brand dropped straight into your lap.Â
Nevermind the fact that he had come up with the idea.Â
Oh, you shouldâve known that this is what wearing pheromone perfume around the strongest would get you.
Because Gojo Satoru was breaking - shattering.Â
Every pressurized thrust of his leaking out a new wave of overstimulated pre frosting up your slicked entrance. Accompanied hand-in-lecherous-hand with shockwaves of cursed energy that make your unbolted furniture drag magnetized centimeters all the way towards the creaking bed.Â
âSh-shit your p-powersââ youâre whining, eyes widening at the hazy sight of blue lightning flickering across Gojoâs sweat-lathered body.Â
âMy p-p-powers, huh, sweetheart?â Heâs leaning in to whisper, eyes wide. Wild. Breath hitching so many octaves higher that it sends your spine arching with a goosebumped chill. All into his awaiting touch, âAnd whose- fault- is thatâ?â
Youâre not sure if youâre a genius - or just plain idiotic. Because even feeling the withheld power being those very same soft palms holding your boneless thighs up, you find it in yourself to snark. âYours.â
And Gojo almost stops.Â
If that didnât torture him just as much as that would torture you, that is. Instead, heâs slowing down to sleazy drags nâ grinds pressing gluey peck after peck on your cervix.Â
Such sweet, sweet leisure - yet, his words were tense. He breathes out a shallow cloud of air, âWhose?âÂ
Gojoâs tone was dangerous. And his battering rams even more so.
âY-y- ngh!â Saved by a particularly hard slam of all his copious inches digging into your glutinous g-spot, it leaves a bulky circular branding that stings deliciously with every targeted buck.
You can feel yourself slowly being fucked into stupidity with every swash of thickly viscous cum swirling around your insides. And you already know by the buzzing pressure around his cerulean eyes that he was taking unfair advantage of his Six Eyes to make sure his veiny cock reaches each and every single spot inside your pretty pussy.
Locking your dangling ankles with one hand behind his head - the noticeable flex of Gojoâs pale biceps makes you moan.Â
Trapped.Â
Oh- how pretty you were like this, he muses, eyeing the wobbly quiver of your needy lips. Both of them. And you were so loud, too - your saturated cunt so desperate to chat up at him with ringing squelches that carry over your adorable noises.Â
Maybe he should let you hit him with a waft of that special pheromone perfume more often.
His round nostrils flare, hyper-sensitive senses greedily gulping out each ounce and waft youâre letting off. Every repeated pap! of Gojoâs hipbones follows one of his choked-out syllables, âI said- Whose?â
Someone sobs - and only a few sloppy seconds do you realize that itâs you. Words coming out helplessly garbled, âM-mine.â
At that very moment, a dimly-lit lamp across your heady bedroom shatters.Â
Sharp shards of glasses bounce off the two of your fervently glissading bodies, limitless.Â
But if that was taxing for the strongest - then he doesnât show it. Not even a sign. Gojo only angles his hip a few degrees to the right to bounce into your spongy cervix even harsher. In rough, jagged strokes as if it was nothing.
In fact, by the filmy glaze overtaking his hooded eyes, you think that it might just be nothing. You think that he might not even have realized what was happening.Â
Pressing a drunken trailway of kisses down the helpless curve of your calf, he grins. Toothy. Animalistic. âAtta girl.â
Pulpy soft tips of Gojoâs fingers slide sneakily down to your messy pussy, drivelling up slow slides up and down your teary entrance. Just until you were getting comfortable - just until you were letting your guard down. Silly girl.Â
Before slipping past your tight ring of resistance and prying you open doubly. And oh, you shouldâve expected that when Gojo gets the job done - heâs going above and beyond to make sure you remember it.Â
That youâre his.
Pummeling right into the throbbing bullseye of your g-spot, the edges of his long digits hit that spot so hard that you find yourself bawling. Eyes snapping open- before promptly closing as you cum.
Your high is a shock - a white-hot mess of such euphoria.Â
Tipping right over the edge - and it mightâve been a surprise to you, but Gojo saw it coming a mile away with those special eyes of his. Chuckling to himself at the velvety smooch of your sappy walls milking every inch of him.
âThere we go- there we g-go, my girl.â Heâs pumping you so thoroughly full that you feel your vision blur, the vibrating buzz of Gojoâs cursed energy being fed into you with each strike. âCum- cum fâme. H-heh, all because- because of me-â
Your tits bump up into his plush pecs, sensitive nubs of your nipples brushing against his rosy pink ones. Youâre reaching out a trembling hand to cup Gojoâs pretty face - one he leans into and kisses. âT-Toruâ!â
Just about all you can manage out.
And your orgasm might not have been a surprise to him, but Gojoâs own absolutely was.
It happens in a split second - just after that nickname spills from the honeyed tip of your tongue.Â
Gojoâs snowy lashes flutter upwards, sweat-slicked brows raising all the way to the edges of his silky fringe. Bubblegum lips parting into an oh! only falling further and further slack with every creamy ribbon shot upwards into you.Â
It floods, it pours. And you can feel your flooded pussylips overspilling before heâs even halfway through his orgasm.
Oozing out glutinous wads of cum with every pump - Gojo had no rhythm now, he had no rhyme. Nothing but the carnal need to push every ounce of his fatly beading seed deeper nâ deeper into your pretty pussy, heated pink crownhead swirling out what feels like hearts at the very door to your womb.
Youâre so full you could explode-
A hand rovers over that inflationary bulge - bigger now. âOh, sweetheartâŠâ
Was that really your loving boyfriend? He sounded so ruined right about now, hoarse. You couldnât even blink your eyes up to make out the expression on his face because the lights had exploded. Possibly in every ward of Tokyo.
You feel it before you see it.
The familiar, shrill puff! of that pheromone perfume being sprayed on you- what?Â
With a sharp gasp, youâre looking back nâ forth between the shiny sheen of liquid spritzed once more over your skin and Gojoâs ever-loving smile.
âOh, whoops.â Soft snickers punctured with a loooong sniff of the air - of you. And Gojoâs eyes take on a predatory glint that makes your entire body wrack with shivers. âBetter hope youâre on ngh- b-birth control, girl.â
â...â
A/N. Fun fact, the entirety of Sri Lanka had a six hour power cut while I was writing this because some monkey jumped onto a power line </33
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#ino x reader#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut#ino smut
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You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Housewardens
Other Parts: Vice-Housewardens; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo
Riddle Rosehearts
The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood and the rustle of fabric as you flopped onto the couch with all the grace of a cat forcibly denied its favorite sunny spot.
The argument still hung in the air, an unspoken tension that neither you nor Riddle were willing to breachâat least not yet. He wasnât wrong, not entirely, but he wasnât right either. The impasse was as thick as the silence between you.
Determined to make a statement, you yanked the blanket off the couch arm and cocooned yourself in it, defiantly turning your back to the door. No way were you crawling back to bed tonight. Your pride wouldnât let you. Let him stew in his perfectly fluffed, oversized bed.
Meanwhile, in his room, Riddleâs impeccable composure was fraying at the edges. He lay stiff as a board under his duvet, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to all his mistakes. His pillows seemed unusually hard, the blankets too suffocating, and no matter how he adjusted, something felt... wrong.
It didnât take him long to figure out the culprit: you werenât there.
He groaned softly into the darkness. Guilt clawed at his insides, sharp and relentless, each tick of the clock making it harder to bear. Heâd handled things poorlyâhe could admit that, now that the heat of the argument had ebbed. And worse, he couldnât bear the thought of you being upset, out there on the couch, all because of his stubbornness.
With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, he threw off his blanket and shuffled into the living room. His breath caught when he saw you.
There you were, fast asleep, your cheek smushed against the arm of the couch, one arm dangling off the side. The sight was far too adorable for the emotional train wreck heâd become. His guilt doubled.
Riddle knelt by the couch quietly, determined not to wake you. But as he crouched there, the exhaustion hit himâof the argument, the guilt, the restless tossing and turning. Maybe just sitting here would suffice. He wouldnât disturb you.
A few minutes turned into an hour. Before he knew it, heâd slumped sideways against the couch, head lolling onto his arms, fast asleep in what had to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable.
When you stirred awake, the morning light was peeking through the curtains. Groggily, you rubbed your eyes, the previous nightâs anger feeling like a distant shadow. That was when you noticed himâhis normally pristine figure curled up on the floor, head resting uncomfortably close to your dangling hand.
Your chest ached at the sight. The idiot. The sweet, guilty idiot.
You reached out, brushing your fingers lightly against his hair. âRiddle,â you whispered. âHey⊠wake up.â
He stirred, blinking up at you with sleep-clouded eyes, disoriented but instantly softening when he saw your face. Without a word, he shifted closer, arms wrapping around your middle as he buried his face against your stomach.
âDonât go,â he mumbles, voice thick and quiet.
You freeze but quickly recover, leaning into his embrace. âI wasnât going anywhere.â
âIâm sorry,â he mumbled, voice muffled by your blanket. âI didnât mean for it to get so out of hand.â
Your throat tightened, and you found yourself carding your fingers through his hair. âIâm sorry too,â you whispered. âLetâs not fight like that again.â
For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped up in quiet forgiveness. When he finally looked up at you, there was a hesitant, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
âWill you come back to bed now?â he asked softly.
âOnly if you promise to use it too. No more couch-floor accommodations,â you teased, pinching his cheek lightly.
âDeal,â he murmured, and together, you made your way backâcloser than before, warmth filling the space where anger once was.
Leona Kingscholar
The argument had been sharp, biting, and the kind of fight where you both refused to back down. Storming out of the bedroom felt dramatic enough to match the vibe, so you grabbed a blanket, stomped to the living room, and threw yourself onto the couch with the weight of your indignation. âFine,â you muttered into the cushions. âLet him have the stupid bed. I donât care.â
And at the time, you didn't. You were replaying his snarky remarks and cursing his stubborn attitude. But the couch was lumpy, the blanket too short, and sleep came grudgingly after what felt like hours of stewing.
When you finally woke, disoriented and achy, something felt...off. For starters, you werenât on the couch anymore. You were in the bed, wrapped snugly in the comforter that still carried Leonaâs scent.
Blinking against the sunlight, you sat up, confusion clouding your thoughts. At the foot of the bed was the blanket youâd dragged out last night, now neatly folded like some taunting symbol of Leonaâs existence.
And Leona himself? Missing.
You slid out of bed and wandered to the living room, where the answer to your mystery lay sprawled across the couch. The sight of him, however, made your irritation waver.
Leona was far too large for the couch. His long legs hung over the edge at weird angles, and one arm was slung over his face to block the light filtering through the curtains. He looked wildly uncomfortable, but his usual arrogance softened in sleep, his face peaceful and unguarded.
It didnât take a genius to piece it together. He must have carried you to bed sometime in the night, only to exile himself to the lumpy couch. The guy could be maddeningly stubborn, but this... this unexpected gesture had you torn between wanting to yell at him or simply kissing him awake.
Ultimately, you decided to settle for the middle ground.
Crouching next to the couch, you reached out and brushed the stray strands of hair from his face. Before you could withdraw, one eye cracked open, and a lazy grin spread across his lips.
âCaught ya,â he drawled, voice rough from sleep.
You raised an eyebrow. âYou moved me to the bed, didnât you?â
He huffed, clearly uninterested in owning up to the sentimentality of it. âCouldnât leave you out there whining in your sleep.â
âI wasnât whining!â you protested, even though your cheeks were burning.
âSure you werenât,â he replied smoothly, grabbing your wrist before you could retreat. With a sharp tug, he pulled you down, practically pinning you against him. âDonât see the big deal. Youâre mine, arenât ya? âCourse Iâm gonna take care of you.â
The casual way he said it didnât make it any less sincere.
You sighed, melting into his warmth despite yourself. âI hate how sweet you can be when Iâm trying to stay mad at you.â
His smirk widened, and he tucked you closer, burying his face in your hair. âDidnât mean to piss you off,â he murmured against your temple. âBut youâre not leaving this couch till we make up. Deal?â
You rolled your eyes, but your voice softened. âDeal.â
As the tension melted away and his arms tightened around you, the couch didnât seem quite so lumpy anymore. Maybe this wasnât such a bad place to be.
Azul Ashengrotto
The argument had been tense, the kind where you both said things you probably shouldnât have. Frustrated and too stubborn to stay in the same space as Azul, you grabbed a pillow and marched out to the couch. Heâd barely tried to stop you, his pride seemingly keeping him rooted in the bedroom.
But pride was a fickle thing, and now you were left trying to fall asleep on the stiff cushions. Every creak of the floorboards made you feel a little guilty, knowing exactly who it was.
You didnât even need to look; you could feel Azulâs presence lingering in the doorway, his usual composure clearly absent. The sound of shuffling footsteps returned to the bedroom, and you thought maybe heâd finally leave you aloneâonly to hear those same footsteps inch closer again a minute later.
"Azul, I know you're there," you muttered, cracking an eye open and turning toward the doorway. Sure enough, there he was, peeking out. His glasses caught the faint glow of the hallway light, and he immediately froze like heâd been caught stealing treasure.
âI-I wasnât...â he started, before trailing off, clearly scrambling for an excuse.
You sighed and sat up, your frustration ebbing in the face of how uncharacteristically sheepish he looked. This was Azul Ashengrotto, the calculating businessman who could sell ice to Yetisâand yet he couldnât even apologize without peering at you like a child whoâd been scolded.
âIf youâre just going to lurk there all night, weâre both going to lose sleep,â you said, finally beckoning him over with a wave.
Azul hesitated for a fraction of a second before his composure cracked, and he shuffled toward the couch. âI didnât mean for things to escalate...â he started, sitting next to you, his head ducked low, voice soft.
You smirked despite yourself. âYouâre cute when youâre embarrassed, you know that?â
He bristled, his dignity rallying as he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. âI am notââ
âYouâre very cute,â you interrupted, and the smallest flicker of a pout crossed his lips.
Azul looked away, a hint of color dusting his pale cheeks. âYouâre the worst.â
âAnd you still love me,â you countered, pulling him down beside you. âTruce?â
He glanced at you, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. âTruce.â
Apologies came in murmured exchanges after that, both of you acknowledging where youâd gone wrong. You knew youâd both let pride get in the wayâtypical for two people as headstrong as yourselves.
Eventually, Azulâs head rested on your shoulder, his warm weight grounding you. You leaned back against the couch, and despite its discomfort, it felt perfect with him there.
âYou know,â you whispered, running a hand gently through his hair, âfor a guy whoâs made half of Twisted Wonderland sign contracts, you really canât stand your ground for the life of you.â
Azul huffed, turning his face into your shoulder to hide. âDo you want me to apologize again?â
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. âNope. I think Iâll just enjoy this.â
And with that, the two of you finally let the tension of the argument melt away, falling asleep together on the couch in an imperfect, perfectly âyou and Azulâ sort of peace.
Kalim Al-Asim
The argument had been uncharacteristically heatedârare for someone as sunny and easygoing as Kalimâbut even he had limits, and so did you. When your stubborn streak flared, it ended with you grabbing a blanket and storming off to the couch.
âNo, Kalim, Iâm fine. You sleep in the bed, Iâll sleep here,â you snapped, cutting off his attempts to follow you. His face fell, but for once, he didnât argue, retreating to the bedroom with a defeated slump of his shoulders.
You burrowed into the couch cushions, determined to stay mad, but as sleep started to claim you, the anger dulled into annoyance. It didnât matter. He started it, you thought stubbornly, clutching the blanket tighter.
A soft rustle of fabric woke you, tugging you from the edges of sleep. Blinking groggily, you turned your head to see Kalim crouched beside the couch, carefully tucking another blanket over you. He had his tongue poking out slightly in concentration, his touch so gentle that it was clear he didnât want to wake you.
âWhat are you doing?â you mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.
Kalim flinched, looking at you like a startled puppy caught raiding the kitchen. âOh, IâuhâI just thought you might be cold, so IâŠâ
He trailed off, clearly expecting you to brush him off again. Instead, you sighed, your irritation melting as you realized just how ridiculous he looked, trying to coddle you even while you were angry at him.
âCome here,â you said, sitting up and pulling the blanket back a bit.
âWhat? No, I donât want toââ
âKalim.â
His protest crumbled immediately, and he slid onto the couch beside you, tucking his legs up awkwardly. You wrapped the blanket over both of you, and after a moment of stunned hesitation, Kalim relaxed into the embrace, resting his head against your shoulder.
âIâm sorry,â he said quietly, his voice small and earnest. âI didnât mean to upset you.â
You sighed, tilting your head to rest on his. âIâm sorry too. I overreacted.â
He perked up slightly at that, his usual cheer trying to peek through. âSo⊠does this mean you wonât sleep out here alone again?â
âYouâre lucky Iâm even letting you under this blanket, Asim,â you teased, though your smile softened the words.
Kalim beamed, his arms wrapping snugly around your middle. âI knew you couldnât stay mad at me forever!â
You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning back into the cushions. The couch wasnât exactly built for two people, but the warmth of his presence made it easy to ignore. Slowly, you both drifted to sleep, Kalim murmuring sweet nothings even as his breaths evened out.
Maybe next time, you thought sleepily, youâd just let him win.
âYou can have your perfectly fluffed pillows and skincare routine in peace,â you muttered, tucking yourself in with a spiteful sense of triumph.
Vil Schoenheit
The argument left both of you simmering in silence, which for Vil was a rarity. Instead of his usual icy composure, he seemed genuinely rattled. You, however, werenât in the mood to care. Grabbing a blanket with theatrical flair, you stomped to the couch.
Once comfortably cocooned, you scrolled on your phone, trying to drown out the lingering annoyance. Thatâs when you heard itâsharp, purposeful footsteps marching toward you.
Before you could react, Vil appeared like a vengeful storm god, looking every bit as flawless as a deity would while furious. With a huff that could make kingdoms tremble, he reached for your arm and began dragging you back to the bedroom.
âVil, what are youâlet me go! Iâm fine out here!â you protested, but his grip was firm, his annoyance palpable.
Once you were unceremoniously deposited by the bed, he turned to you, pointing at your neatly made side. âYou are sleeping there,â he declared.
You folded your arms. âIâm sleeping on the couch. Deal with it.â
He tilted his head, his expression a dangerous blend of frustration and disbelief. âAbsolutely not. Youâve ruined my entire evening, and now you expect me to suffer further by sleeping alone?â
âRuined? Seriously?â you shot back.
âYes! I require my beauty sleep, and I canât possibly get it knowing youâre out there, sulking on a couch. Itâs impossible to relax without you next to meâso you, are going to have to take responsibility!â
The sheer audacity of his statement left you blinking. It was so dramatic and entirely Vil that you couldnât help itâyou laughed. Not a little chuckle, but a full-bodied, slightly wheezing laugh that made you clutch your sides.
Vil crossed his arms, arching an offended brow. âI fail to see whatâs funny.â
âYou,â you said between giggles. âThis whole âitâs your fault I canât sleep because I love youâ nonsense. Youâre ridiculous.â
He didnât deny it. Instead, he sighed, and once your laughter subsided, he gestured to the bed again, this time more softly. âPlease. Donât make me sleep without you.â
You relented, sliding under the blankets. As you settled in, Vil switched off the lights, the room going still.
âIâm sorry,â he said quietly after a moment. His tone was sincere, lacking the sharp edges from earlier.
You shifted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him gently against you. âIâm sorry too.â
Vil let out a contented hum, nestling into your hold. With your body heat mingling and the earlier tension dissipating, it didnât take long for both of you to fall asleepâtogether, as it should be.
Sleep came in patches, your mind replaying the fight in a loop. At some point, the dull ache in your bladder forced you to stumble toward the bathroom. On your way back, you froze, hearing quiet, panicked murmurs drifting from Idiaâs room.
Idia Shroud
The argument had been roughâsharp words, bitter edges, the kind of fight that left your chest heavy. It didnât matter how much Idia stammered his way through an apology or tried to explain his side; you werenât ready to hear it yet. So, in an act of frustrated finality, you grabbed a blanket and retreated to the couch, refusing to spare him another glance.
âOrtho, what do I do? I think I really messed up this time,â his voice wavered, thick with worry. âThey probably hate me now. Like, actual hateâno respawn, no restart. I mean, who else would put up with me? Iâve completely blown it.â
You sighed, anger ebbing as guilt trickled in. You hadnât meant to push him that far, and his usual self-deprecating spiral sounded more frayed than usual.
Pushing the door open, you caught the tail end of Orthoâs voice. âBig Brother, you shouldâoh!â His robotic eyes darted to you, scanning the scene. A moment later, he gave a tiny thumbs-up and practically zoomed out of the room, leaving you and Idia alone.
Idia froze when he noticed you. His shoulders hunched as if he could shrink his already wiry frame. âI-I didnât mean for you to hear that. Sorry for being pathetic. Again.â
Rolling your eyes fondly, you stepped forward and opened your arms. âCome here, you dramatic dork.â
His eyes widened, hesitation etched into every inch of his posture. When you didnât move or drop your arms, he finally shuffled over, nervously slipping into your embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him securely, and his entire body seemed to deflate as tension drained out of him.
âI thought you werenât coming back,â he admitted, voice muffled against your shoulder.
You huffed softly, rubbing his back. âIdia, I wasnât leaving. Just... needed space to cool off. And honestly, hearing you lose your mind over it made it hard to stay mad.â
âCool. Cool, cool, cool,â he mumbled, the words tumbling in an embarrassed rush. âUm, does this mean...?â
âIt means I still love you,â you interrupted gently.
His grip on you tightened for a moment before he pulled back, pink dusting his cheeks and his hair glowing pink at the ends. âIâm sorry,â he murmured, his voice so soft you almost missed it.
âIâm sorry too,â you replied, kissing his cheek and earning a startled squeak.
Together, you made your way back to bed. As you settled under the blankets, his fingers tangled hesitantly with yours. The argument seemed miles away now, replaced by the steady warmth of simply being with him.
âIâll try to be better,â he murmured into the quiet.
âYouâre already enough, Idia,â you replied, squeezing his hand.
And as you drifted off to sleep, you felt his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your knuckles, grounding both of you in the quiet comfort of reconciliation.
Malleus stood frozen for a moment, processing your declaration, and you could feel his pout even with your back turned. "You do not need to sleep on the couch," he finally said.
Malleus Draconia
The argument left both of you tense, and you were too mad to deal with Malleus' brooding silence. Grabbing a blanket, you stormed off toward the couch, refusing to even glance at him. "I'm sleeping on the couch," you announced. "Goodnight."
"I'm not changing my mind," you shot back, tossing the blanket onto the couch for emphasis.
There was a brief, sulking pause. Then, he went quietâsuspiciously quiet. You peeked over your shoulder just in time to catch him crossing his arms with a look of smug triumph spreading across his face.
âMalleusââ
Before you could finish the thought, a flash of green lightning struck the couch, reducing it to a pile of ash with alarming precision. You stood there, jaw dropping as the faint smell of charred upholstery wafted in the air.
"Well," Malleus said, ever so matter-of-factly, "it seems the couch is⊠out of commission. A most unfortunate turn of events."
You turned to him, dumbfounded. "Did you seriously just smite your own couch?"
He looked at you expectantly, his lips pressed into an overly calm smile. "The bed is still available," he offered, gesturing toward the bedroom as though that solved everything.
Your anger reignitedâif that was even possible after witnessing such sheer audacity. Without a word, you dropped your blanket onto the floor, flopping down dramatically as if making it your personal mission to out-stubborn a dragon fae.
He stared at you in bewilderment, clearly expecting a different outcome. For a long moment, he didnât move, as though trying to process your act of defiance. Then, with an audible sigh, he finally caved.
âAlright,â he said softly, crouching to your level. His eyes held a rare vulnerability. âI⊠overreacted. I apologize for upsetting you.â
You bit back a smirk, pretending to be unimpressed even as you felt your resolve softening. "I wasnât thrilled about it, yeah."
Malleus tilted his head, something of a pout returning to his expression. âWill you come back to bed, then? The floor hardly befits someone so precious to me.â
âOnly if you promise not to zap anything else," you teased, finally relenting as you reached out to take his offered hand.
He helped you up gently, his grip firm but careful, as though he feared breaking you. âI cannot promise to never act rashly in defense of my love,â he murmured, leading you back to the room.
Settling into the bed together, you couldnât resist poking at him one last time. âYou really destroyed your own couch just to keep me near you, huh? You know they make coupleâs therapy for this, right?â
He chuckled softly, pulling you close. âI would smite an entire castle if it meant you stayed by my side.â
âNoted,â you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldnât hide the warmth in your chest. As you both drifted off, tangled in the sheets, you couldnât help but think how absurdly lucky you were to be loved by someone so dramaticâand so utterly devoted.
Masterlist
#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar#twst leona#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#kalim x reader#kalim al asim x reader#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x readee#vil schoenheit#twst vil#malleus draconia x reader#twst malleus#malleus x reader#malleus draconia#malleus#idia x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud
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The Soldier and His Mission
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 1K
Summary: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.
You shouldâve known something was wrong the moment Bucky went still.
One second, the mission was wrapping upâjust another Hydra facility wiped off the map, just another set of goons taken down. The next, something triggered him. A phrase muttered in Russian over a radio, the faintest crackle of a long-dead handlerâs voice. You saw the shift in his posture before he even turned around, the telltale tightening of his jaw, the blankness overtaking those usually warm blue eyes.
Bucky Barnes was gone.
The Winter Soldier stood in his place.
And yetâhe didnât hurt you.
Not when he turned to face the team, his body language bristling with danger. Not when Steve hesitated before stepping forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And certainly not when you cautiously called his name, your voice softer than the others.
Instead, the Soldier moved between you and everyone else.
A shield.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
Back at the Tower, you thought the episode would pass. That maybe, after a few hours, after enough familiar sights and sounds, Bucky would shake it off like he always did.
But the Soldier wasnât leaving. And he had decided you were his mission.
Not to eliminate.
To protect.
At first, it was just hovering. You movedâhe followed. You satâhe stood at your back, ever watchful. The others gave him space, exchanging worried glances when they thought you werenât looking. Steve was tense, obviously trying to figure out how to break through, while Tony was less patient about it.
âThis is a problem,â Stark declared after the first few hours, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. âI mean, I hate to be the one to say it, but we have a fully armed, brainwashed assassin in the Tower again, and we all know how that went last time.â
âHeâs not attacking anyone,â Natasha pointed out.
âYet,â Tony shot back.
You ignored the argument as best you could, focusing instead on cooking something for Buckyâsomething normal, something familiar, something that might ground him. His eyes tracked you the entire time.
Then you miscalculated the heat on the stove.
The oil in the pan hissed and spat, and a second later, you hissed too as a sharp sting bloomed across your palm. You barely had time to react before there was a sudden blur of motion.
Bucky was on you instantly.
His flesh hand gripped your wrist, his metal one hovering protectively over the stove, as if it had personally attacked you. His face was unreadable, but his grip was firm, his hold gentle as he examined the burn.
âIâm okay,â you assured him, but he wasnât listening.
Instead, he took the cold pack you hadnât even reached for yet and pressed it carefully to your palm, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in focus. You exchanged a look with Steve over Buckyâs shoulder, and the Captain exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes.
He was still in there.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
The Soldier continued shadowing you for the next two days, much to Tonyâs frustration. But as Natasha had pointed outâhe wasnât hurting anyone.
Unless they posed a threat to you.
That was something Steve learned firsthand during a sparring session. You had barely landed a hit before Bucky, watching from the sidelines, had moved. The next thing you knew, Steve was on his ass, blinking up at the ceiling, while Bucky stood between you like a human wall, eyes cold and calculating.
âFor the record,â Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his ribs, âI was letting her win.â
Bucky wasnât convinced.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
It wasnât until you needed a medical checkup that things really came to a head.
âBarnes, I have to actually examine her,â Dr. Cho said patiently, eyeing where Bucky stood between you and the med bayâs equipment.
âNo,â he replied flatly.
âBuckyââ you tried.
âThe room is secure.â
âThatâs not theââ
âShe does not require assistance.â
âI do require assistance,â you corrected. âBecause I burned my hand and twisted my shoulder thanks to a certain super soldier overreacting in the gym.â
Bucky didnât move.
You exhaled slowly.
âOkay,â you said, shifting tactics. âThen stay.â
That got his attention.
âIf you want to make sure nothing happens to me,â you reasoned, âthen you can stay here. But you have to let the doctor check me out.â
His expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, after what felt like an eternityâ
ââŠUnderstood.â
Progress.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
When it finally broke, it wasnât dramatic.
There was no grand trigger, no huge revelation.
Just a moment of quiet.
You had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning after two days of Buckyâs overprotective hovering. When you woke up, it was to warm hands gently brushing over your wristâboth flesh and metal, but softer this time, as if relearning the feeling of touching you.
And then you heard itâhis breath hitching.
A tiny, barely-there sound, but one filled with something raw.
You blinked sleepily, looking up.
Bucky was staring at you. Not the Soldier. Bucky.
His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes wideâhis real eyes.
ââŠDoll?â His voice cracked over the word, like it had been caught in his throat.
You smiled sleepily, shifting so your fingers curled around his. âHey, Buck.â
His exhale was shaky. His shoulders sagged. And when you tugged him down to you, he didnât resist.
He just buried his face in your neck and held on.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
âYou scared the hell out of me, you know,â you murmured later, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he rested against you.
âI know,â he admitted, voice rough.
âYou threw Steve like a ragdoll.â
ââŠYeah.â
ââŠKind of hot, not gonna lie.â
A laugh. Quiet, but real.
And just like that, Bucky Barnes was back.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#self insert#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#james barnes x reader#James barnes#james barnes x y/n#james barnes x you#bucky barnes self insert#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#fluff#marvel mcu#mcu fandom#marvel imagines#marvel fanfiction#magical-reid
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From time to time I keep wondering why isn't the boy who talks in fish and has the Simon Says power the strongest sorcerer ever of whatever. Couldn't he just make Gojo's head explode?
Edit: Toge Inumaki
#Yes yes the stronger the command the more strain in his body or whatever#But wouldn't he be able to do a 'we'll both burn together' sort of move?#Or maybe something like 'why are you hitting yourself?' kind of thing?#The layer of infinity around Gojo isn't able to stop this boy's Simon Says powersâ right? How would it?#So if the harm comes from within...#And doesn't this boy miko buffed and with a megaphone have the power to make confetti out of Sukuna?#There must be some sort of justification about why this doesn't work#And I'm not convinced the boy dying in the process is the answer considering they send kills to off themselves all the time#Gojo knew he could die. Yuuji knows he can die. Yuta very much knows he's risking his life in the body of a dead man#Nobara was sent there not half an hour after waking up from a two months coma#Not at all convinced by the fact 'this may kill the kid' would weight much on them#They're in a terrible situation and it's not like Nanami is there to try and stop them#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later#Hilarious that looking up on google 'boy that talks in fish jjk' gave me his name. Not surprising but very funny#Anyway I hope they explain this a bit because I think of this boy and why he isn't more important a lot
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Search History // Poly!141 x Reader
A continuation of this thought
Summary: Reader (based loosely on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds) has to be face-to-face with the boys for the first time since they started including her in their late-night fantasies. They've decided it's time to take it off-screen and move in IRL.
I'm taggin the peeps who replied to the last part bc I'm desperate for attention lol (in all actuality y'all really encouraged me to actually write thank you!!)
CW: allusions to porn, allusions to female genitalia, they're all horny in the workplace, this is basically workplace harassment but we're excusing it because they're hot and fictional and I say so, no outright smut
Still nsfw though so MDNI pls and thanks
âThe 141 just touched down. ETA twenty minutes.âÂ
Your eyes flicked up from the muted video on your monitor, cheeks flushed red but masked by the light radiating off your screen in your dark office. Thank God, your monitor faced away from the door. A young private was standing in the doorway with a tablet, looking at you for an acknowledgment, probably running about starting preparations for their arrival back on home base.Â
âThank you, private.â You murmured, teeth toying at your thumbnail, chipping the polish. The young soldier gave a short nod at the quiet dismissal and disappeared once again. Your eyes, with embarrassingly blown pupils, flicked back to the video.Â
After your discovery two weeks ago, the sites and links you had to review furthered down the rabbit hole. And this video you were currently watching had been one that all the men had been visiting, and revisiting, and revisitingâŠÂ
By god, theyâd done it.Â
Similar build, skin tone only a shade or two different - you could probably share foundation and it wouldnât look too bad. Hair and eye color so close it was uncanny. And when the woman looked over her shoulder at the mountain of a man hitting it from the back, the angle made the resemblance almost scarily uncanny.  The Had you had a porn career and simply forgotten?- kind of uncanny.Â
Sure there were differences- she was a little taller, maybe a bit leaner, with boobs that had definitely had some work done. Tattoos where your skin was bare and vice versa, different piercings. Her voice was pitched different, and her accent was completely different from yours but within three minutes of the video sheâd stopped speaking words, so accent didnât matter much. Â But as far as porn actresses went- she might as well be your twin.Â
It seemed the 141 had perused her entire.. filmography. Different videos, different scenarios, different partners. They all had videos they seemed to like better than others. Soap seemed to particularly like the POV video where the man had a thick Scottish accent. Gaz had bookmarked a soft-core bondage and forced orgasm scene. Price, a shorter video of an unseen man pushing the actress under a desk for oral, and Ghost⊠the only link heâd visited was your instagram. It was hard not to let it stroke your ego a little bit.Â
God, if you told anyone about this⊠Theyâd tell you to file a workplace harassment suit, and maybe a police report.  To start job hunting, and therapist hunting. Distance yourself. You should have been embarrassed or uncomfortable- you knew you should be. That you should feel objectified or disrespected, disgusted.Â
But hell, youâd be lying if you said you didnât send yourself the links and watched them in your free time at home. It was hot- turned you on in an almost concerning way that would set feminism back twenty years if you told anyone.Â
The video kept playing on your monitor, one of the videos that Soap had visited more than once (little did you know it was one that Ghost had picked out). A gloved hand smoothly glided down the actress's spine before curving around her throat and pulling her upright on the manâs lap, filthy praises in a British accent playing through your single AirPod.Â
âHoly shitâŠâ  You muttered, thighs clenching because if you squinted it really did look like you, even some of her mannerisms. And the rough accent was like a mix of Ghost's and Priceâs.Â
Abruptly, you shut down the entire monitor completely, ripping out the AirPod and tossing it on the desk. Pressing slightly shaking hands to your too hot face. You needed to get it together, because Price was your boss and the others were your superiors. Theyâd been gone for a month and a half, and itâd been your voice in their ears guiding them through missions, and you knew you had a flirty disposition, especially from the private safety of your dark little office half way across the world.Â
It made sense that their wires got a little crossed, but your wires- like those off all your monitors and hardware- needed to stay neatly organized and separate. Focus. Focus.Â
Your nails were bitten to the quick, the bitter taste of old nail polish on the back of your tongue. The skin around your nails was raw from your teeth toying with it as your so intensely focussed on the videos. You needed to get out of this too small, too hot room.  Which is how you found yourself, twenty minutes later, in the communal break room fighting with the vending machine. It was withholding the ice cold water you were desperate for, despite your curses and attempts to jostle the machine. Right as you delivered a frustrated kick to the machine-
âJust the bird we were looking for!âÂ
It was Kyleâs voice first, that tipped you off to the herd of men entering the space. You almost jumped out of your skin- brain flitting through several scandalous snippets of the videos heâd replayed. His smile was dazzling as always as he came into view, tapping the yellow warning stickers that instructed people not to jostle the machine, with the little illustration of the stick man getting crushed, âWhatâd the machine ever do to you? It might start fighting back.âÂ
A gloved hand reached between the two of you, skeleton fingers curled into a fist that delivered a blunt strike, and, like magic, the water bottle fell in to the receptacle. You peeked over your shoulder at Ghost, standing just slightly too close and looking down at you intensely, but not meanly. An easy to miss bit of mirth that was usually reserved for Soap. Thank god youâd bitten your nails to stubs or they wouldâve drawn blood from how they were digging into your palms to distract you from the gloved hands and the brutish display of strength.Â
Kyle put the drink sweetly in your hands after cracking it for you, like he would do when bringing Ghost or Price something, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didnât. Â Another hand, warm and large clapped gently on your shoulder, pulling you back a step, almost directly into Captain Priceâs chest.Â
The men shared a look over your head before focussing back on you.Â
âYour intel was good.â It was a simple statement, but delivered in a warm, proud tone that felt so much like praise that your stomach flipped a bit, with that warm smile that made him look soft despite the fact he was still in full tac-gear, âThey didnât even see us coming.âÂ
âThey never see you coming, thatâs kind of your whole thing.â You tried a joke, your voice a touch strained. His hand was lingering, right on the curve where your shoulder became your neck, fingers flexing into the flesh just so. Just like it did on the boys when he thought others wouldnât noticed. focus, focus, focus.Â
Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Soap that interrupted the kneading of Priceâs fingers.Â
âDonât be so modest, bonnie!â He was laughing as large arms caught you around the waist, lifting and spinning you slightly. His voice so similar to that one Scottish co-star that had done such filthy things to your lookalike, it made your head spin.  Despite your startled yelp and squirming, his grip didnât waver, âCouldnât of done it without our lass in the chair.âÂ
â ânough, Johnny,â Ghost called firmly, leaning against the vending machine that theyâd all but cornered you against, âPut âer down.âÂ
Soapâs laugh was still good natured as he set you on your feet again, a little roughly for the heels you had on to match your skirt, you wobbled only for Ghost himself to steady you, giving you another intense look, that you had trouble meeting, â 'eâs right though. Intel was good.âÂ
They were all staring at you, varying degrees of smirks, eyes a spectrum of mischief and something that was dizzyingly close to hunger.  Unable to keep still, you were squirming, shifting your weigh from foot to foot, fiddling with the wrapper on the bottle. You found your eyes flitting around settling anywhere but their own gaze, cheeks feeling hot, mind full of vile images that you knew theyâd seen and enjoyed- ceiling, the exit sign, Johnnyâs tac-vest, the floor, the water bottle in your hands. You gulped, eyebrows raising as you puffed a breath, trying desperately to reign yourself in.
âGlad to be of service.â You smiled tightly, nodding meeting each set of eyes briefly and hoping your foundation masked your blush (it didnât). Jesus Christ, you couldnât do this.  You couldnât tell if you felt turned on or awkward or both, but you needed to go. Preferably before you did something that would cost you your job. Your voice was rushed as you squeezed between Gaz and Price, double timing it to the exit, âEnjoy your leave, boys, you deserve it.âÂ
As you all but fled the building, you typed out a mass base-wide memo email, language formal as you professionally reminded every soldier, specifically four of them, that any website visited by government devices was subject to internal review.Â
You swore you could hear them laughing as the memo went out. But maybe that was just your overactive imagination.Â
____
Youâd gone home for the evening, and then clocked back in the following morning. Surprised to find all of the 141 was still there, debriefing must have ran long.Â
âMorning, love.â It was Kyle that greeted you, pressing a cup of coffee into your hands. He looked tired but happy to see you. Soap was with him, eyes bright and grin wide as he whistled lowly, fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt as you passed his seat.Â
âLooking good, bonnie,â He smiled devilishly, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before letting go, âTired of all the green, black, and beige tac gear. Missed seeing something a littleâŠÂ softer.â Â
You somewhat doubted that. He seemed to appreciate military khaki when it hugged Gazâs ass, and he sure didnât seem to mind an all black tactical ensemble when it was on Ghost. But the compliment still brought heat up your neck, which you coupled with a sip of the hot coffee Gaz had brought you- fixed perfectly the way you liked it. It elicited a pleased sigh as you swallowed, humming in content.Â
âPrice wants to see you before we all leave. Brought you some new stuff to work on.â Kyle smiled, watching how your expression softened at the taste of the beverage, clearly proud of himself for drawing out that reaction. Â Â
âA present? For me?â You smiled sarcastically back at the prospect of more work added to you caseload, âItâs like Christmas.âÂ
âYou been good this year?â Kyle grinned back, accompanied by Soap chiming, voice low and chiding, âNah, sheâs definitely been naughty.âÂ
Both Sergeantâs shared a look as you almost choked on another sip of coffee.Â
âIâm leaving now.â You shook your head, turning on your heel away from where they were hanging around the rec room, clearly waiting for Price to dismiss them, âYâall should shower. Or take a nap.âÂ
âYou want us naked?â Kyle questioned, raising his eyebrows at you, leaning back against the wall, standing so very close to Soap, who was sprawled out in his chair, long legs splayed and spread before him as he waggled his eyebrows. âAnd in bed?âÂ
Now that was some imagery. Taking the lordâs name in vain you didnât dignify that with a response other than a huffed, âLeaving now.âÂ
____
The good thing about Price and Ghost was they were business first. So if you really focussed you could almost ignore Ghost's thigh pressed against yours as you sat beside him in the dark room, reviewing body cam footage. They pointed out different things to you, things to include as you started your next dark web deep dive.Â
You could almost ignore how Priceâs fingers grazed and lingered on your palm as he gave you a thumb drive to decrypt and analyze, how he stood close enough to you that you had to look at him through your lashes.Â
âHas a self destruct program that Gaz didnât want t' aggravate. Figured it needed your... soft touch.â Price smiled down at you as you curled your fingers around the thumb drive. You had to try pretty hard to ignore the slight emphasis on soft. Ghost seemed to chuckle lowly at your expression at the captain.Â
âWhatâs on there'll point us in the next direction of our next target.â Ghost nodded to you, his leg shifting so it pressed harder against yours. In the guise of stretching out, heâd draped an arm over the back of your chair, the cotton of his gloves half tickling the sensitive skin on the back of your bicep, where the flesh was soft.Â
âSo donât screw it up, got it.â You swallowed thickly, shifting so you couldnât feel his thumb against your skin- it was making it hard to think about hacking and terrorism and military operations. Â He took it as an invitation to spread out more, his fingers grazing the exact spot only seconds later.Â
âPrecisely,â John laughed lowly, his hand moved to your shoulder, back into that sweet curve that was partly your shoulder and partly your neck, and gave it a lingering squeeze, that kind of made you want to melt, âYou wonât screw it up, love.âÂ
The captain gave his Lieutenant a nod, and Ghost quickly stood, his boot giving the toe of your pretty heels a slight nudge as a goodbye before silently stalking out. Price took a seat across from you, leaning back and his arms cross comfortably over his chest.
âIâm having the boys over at mine tonight. A couple of drinks, Iâm gonna grill, put the footie on, celebrate another successful mission to start our leave.â Price listed out their plans casually, noting how you squirmed a bit, uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you tugged at the hem of your skirt before continuing, âWe want you to come. Couldnât have done it without you, so you should celebrate it too.âÂ
âOh, uh-â You started before you could think of a good excuse, âIâll be really busy⊠with.. with the flash drive. And stuff.âÂ
âWhat stuff?â Price rose a single brow, his stare pinning you still as he reached across the table and took the flash drive back, âThis can wait.âÂ
âFiles. Coding. Security checks.â You mumbled the first couple aspects of your job that came to mind, the intensity of his gaze making you want to adjust your collar or shrink in your seat. You figured youâd have a couple more sites to clear off their devices, if theyâd been sitting around base all night. Your cheeks heated just at the thought. âIâm a little behind. BeenâŠÂ distracted lately."
âEverything all right, love?â He âaskedâ with at signature warm smile and amused eyes, he seemed to already know the answer to his question, âYouâve been⊠skittish, since we got back.âÂ
Your teeth worried the seam of your lips as you considered the question. Skittish, was one way to put it- fidgety, fleeing rooms, avoiding eye contact, barely speaking as opposed to your usual chatter and banter. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze again, swallowing dryly again- geez when did you get so shy, â âm fine. Absolutely fine. Never been better. Howâre you?âÂ
Cringing at your own rambling, you sighed shoulders drooping as he fixed you with another look, and muttered your name in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that expected obedience, as his legs shifted into a natural man spread. Your brain flitted back to the video of your look alike being shoved under a deskâŠÂ
Him saying your name again, slightly louder but just as bemused drew you back to him, realizing you were staring at his legs, debating if you could fit between his knees and you almost sputtered as you cleared your throat, âIâm fine, really.âÂ
âEither lie more convincingly or tell me whatâs bothering you, sweet.â  Price chuckled, leaving forward against the table, drumming a knuckle against the table. Sweet, that was new. Youâd have to add it to the laundry list of nicknames and pet names the boys had for you. Youâd always told yourself that it was nothing personal, that British/Scottish people just did that. But this on wasnât as easy to write off as âloveâ or âbonnieâ, average pet names in the UK colloquial, no sweet seemed personal.Â
âIâm not bothered.â You glanced away again, nose wrinkling, even though you were bothered- hot and bothered. John Price had a way of drawing details out of people with just a look and a couple of well prodded words.  With a deep breath, you tried to keep your characteristic rambling to a minimum, a losing battle as he starting stroking at his beard with those long fingers- two parts of him that youâd been thinking about way too much lately-, âListen, Iâm not judging, youâre grown men, watch what you want to, but just a reminder that itâs my job and obligation to review every link and site that government devices visit. Which includes at least skimming videos.  In case you didnât know or maybe forgot that I can and do see these things, so maybe you could pass that along to the boys-âÂ
âYou can tell 'em yourself. âs your job, sweet.â Price said firmly. The girlish part of your brain corrected âfirmlyâ to dominantly. Before his demeanor relaxed again, giving you an amused, appraising look again, âAt my place. Tonight. 8 oâclock. Not a request.â Shrinking in your chair a bit, hoping the chair hid the way your thighs involuntarily clenched, you couldnât help but nod and squeak, âYes, sir.âÂ
___
Part Two
Was supposed to have actually smut in this but I got carried away on the build-up, laugh out loud. Maybe a part three or you can just imagine how the little dinner party goes (hint, she's the meal)
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Soap hits on Ghost's girl part 2
Part 2 to THIS
Word count: 550
The next time Soap sees you is when you come to the base to drop something off for Simon. Soap saw the text pop up on Ghostâs phone while he was in the shower post training. You were waiting for him at the main entrance. You were waiting all alone and Ghost was busy, Soap simply could not leave you waiting for another second, plus he needed to apologize for the last time you met. (Did Soap steal Ghostâs phone so when he got out of the shower he wouldn't know his pretty girlfriend was waiting for him? maybe).
You watched the Scotsman jog towards you, apologies falling from his mouth the second he was within earshot. âMâsorry. Didnât mean any disrespect. You were jus sittin there all alone. Woulda thought Riley was gonna bring you with emâ.â You said his name a few times trying to get him to stop but he was so caught up in trying to âmake it rightâ that he didnât hear you until you used his last name.Â
âMacTavishâ the command of your voice almost had him standing at attention. The call of his name had him sucking in his lips, rightfully shutting him up. You reached out to tap his arm, as if to say ârelaxâ.
âSânot a big deal Johnny.â you laughed a little, âIt was fun playing with you. Just hope Si didnât give you too much shit about it.â (He did. Soap has been dodging literal punches for weeks now). Your phrasing made Soap smile.Â
âYou can play wit me anytime youâd like lass.â if he had long hair heâd be twirling it in his fingers right now.
âIâll keep that in mind MacTavish.â The way you were looking up at him reminded him of why approached you in the bar the first time. Just looking at you and he was smitten.Â
The sound of big heavy footsteps made Soap flinch. The second Ghost appeared, Soap bolted behind you. Ghost wouldnât beat the shit out of him in front of you right?Â
âYou forgot this hun.â You handed a bag of stuff to Simon who was trying to step around you to get to Soap who was moving in the opposite direction of Ghost. Soap trying his hardest not to grab you to better use you as a shield. You stood still watching the two soldiers behave like children running around you. Ghost finally got his hands on Soap who called out your name, a last ditch effort at protection.Â
âLet him go Si.â His grip mightâve loosened but there was no way he was going to let go.Â
âDonât go taking his side lovie.â He may or may not have a knife behind his back ready to use right now.Â
âHeâs harmless Rileyâ You stated, arms crossed but definitely enjoying whatever this situation was.
âYa. Riley. Mâharmlessâ The grin could be heard in Soapâs voice as Ghost let go of him.Â
âGive him back his phone John.â Ghostâs head snapped to Soap who was wide eyed. Howâd you know he stole it? When you gave Simon a small peck signaling you were leaving, Soap began to run knowing once you were gone he was no longer safe from Simon Ghost Riley.
#ghost x reader#cod x reader#blurb#soap#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod#ghost cod#tf 141#cod modern warfare#ghost#ghoap
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inspired by this video âĄ
thinking about biker!simon who meets you one night when your car breaks down on the side of the highway, and you canât manage to get a tow truck out so late at night - so of course he offers you a ride.
heâd pull up beside you and immediately notice the way youâre pouting and huffing in frustration, whining over the phone about how youâre all alone in the middle of nowhere - and how you canât afford to call a cab, so surely a gentleman should help a poor girl out. and then simon is sitting on his bike with his arms lazily crossed in front of him leaned forward, killing the engine as he asked you what was wrong.
biker!simon would slip off his gloves and lean over the hood of your car as you meekly explained how you really should have changed your oil sooner - and that you really hate to be such a bother, but could you get a ride home?
heâd tell you that a pretty little thing like you shouldnât even have to worry about something like this, that he could take you home and make sure youâre all safe and sound - and you think maybe heâs hitting on you, but youâre so shy and maybe heâs just being courteous. strangers normally offer to teach you how to change your oil and that next time theyâll make sure to bring an extra helmet - right?
biker!simon would pat the seat behind him and mumble something along the lines of how he usually rides fast, so youâll have to hold on tight. biker!simon would offer you his jacket and zip it up for you, practically groaning at the way you bite your lip and avoid his gaze - but that damn helmet is so daunting, and how are you supposed to focus when he smells like pine and tobacco?
you would anxiously say that youâve never ridden a motorcycle before, how itâs just too intimidating - plus youâve never met anyone who owned a bike. biker!simon would be smirking under his helmet and humming in satisfaction when your arms tighten around his waist as he weaves between lanes.
biker!simon would hold your thigh the entire ride home - and is it just you or is he gently squeezing your leg while talking about how youâre being such a good girl and that for your first time riding, youâre doing so well?
and when he drops you off at home, biker!simon has his hand rubbing up and down your thigh as his bike idles in your parking lot. he would talk about how heâs so glad to have helped out, and how heâd love to pay for the tow truck - itâs the least he can do when youâve been such a princess.
even though you insist that itâs just too much, and how you really shouldnât be accepting such gifts from strangers - heâs done more than enough, and is there anything you can do to make it up to him? but then biker!simon is dismissing your concerns with the wave of a hand, telling you that heâs more than happy to help a doll like you.
biker!simon says something about how you donât need to be strangers, that youâre just such a sweetheart, and how heâd love to take you out sometime soon. youâd smile sweetly to him and feign consideration for his offer - despite the fact youâve already made up your mind when you were trying to memorize his tattoos and the way that heâd glance over his shoulder to check on you throughout the drive.
heâd help you off his bike and walk you to your apartment because he wouldnât want you to get into any more trouble tonight, right? when you shamelessly type your number into his phone, biker!simon is pulling off his helmet to reveal a balaclava that hides nearly everything except two dark eyes and the cocky smirk plastered across his lips. and youâre mesmerized by the way he lowers his voice and leans down to speak to you, one hand gripping his helmet as the other sits on your lower back the whole walk to your apartment.
the next day heâs leaning against his bike outside your building, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as you shyly rock on your feet and stutter over a thousand thank-youâs - and heâs so focused on the way you rub your thighs together and bite your lip that he almost misses when you say that you really canât thank him enough for everything, and that you really do plan to make it up to him.
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steamy shower sex with simon.
the man's just come home from a deployment which took you away from him and him away from you for a whole month. a whole month of both of you having no sexual contact with each other, no calls, no photos, no nothing.
so just imagine the desperation and the raw need between the two of you as he stepped foot back into the place that finally felt like home after so many years of trying to find it, dropping his bag to the wooden floor, not even bothering to take his shoes off as his arms found themselves wrapped tightly around your smaller body, holding you close, so close.
"missed you, lovey." his voice was deep, low, as usual, yet his tone was softened, into one of vulnerability, love, desire, and need. one that he only ever used towards you. only you were deserving of hearing and seeing his true emotions, which were hidden behind a cold mask to others.
you insisted he should take a shower, clean himself up from the messy deployment, ease his stiff, aching joints, slowly ground himself back into the domestic side of his life, even if it wouldn't last forever. not yet, at least, one day, maybe.
however, simon didn't want to be alone yet, no, not after he just came back to his sweetheart. so in the end, the two of you ended up showering together. it started as a normal shower, which slowly escalated into more.
which is how you found yourself, in simon's big, well-trained arms, his scarred fingers pressing tightly into your thighs, back against his muscled chest, as he fucked up into you, his fat cock stretching out your pulsing, clenching walls with a slight new found difficulty from how long he was separated from you. but, that just means he has to get you nice and stretched out, doesn't he?
the running water did little to conceal the groans and low moans from him, and the higher, louder moans and whines from you. your head was leaning against his shoulder, eyes barely open, as his tip repeatedly pressed against your sweetest spots inside you, making you feel dizzy from the unwavering pleasure.
rutting his hips up into you, his grip on you tightened, as he slowly lowered his head, whispering into your ear amidst his noises of pleasure and relief. "feeling good, pretty girl? getting close? i can fucking feel you clenching around me so hard. you wanna cum, yeah?"
he was teasing you with his words, as he soon began to simultaneously bring your wet pussy down onto his dick while fucking up into you, but you knew he was just as wanting as you were in this moment.
your moans grew louder in noise, stirring him on to do the same, his groans and grunts of your name and dirty words growing louder and more rushed. your wetness was dripping down his cock, slipping down his bare, marked skin, leaving a trail which almost immediately got washed off by the running water in the shower.
the glass was steamed up, a white sheet of condensation hiding your two bodies away from the outside. the air was getting hotter and thinner, which, along with your current states, didn't really help much. but, none of that mattered in the moment. what mattered was that you were with simon again, getting one of the best sex experiences in your life.
"g'nna cum, wanna cum, pleasee, 'leasee!" you cried out, turning your head, trying to capture simon's lips in a long-awaited kiss. you could see his eyes moving to look down at your lips, as he lowered his head down, capturing your lips in a wet, messy kiss, one with tongue's meeting, fighting for the dominance, which undoubtedly you had lost quickly.
"you wanna cum, huh?" he muttered out, his pace constant, not speeding or slowing down. "wanna cum so desperately? then do it. be a good girl for me and make a fucking filthy mess."
and that was all it took for you to snap, your body jerking and trembling as the tension in your lower abdomen snapped, mind blank, save for simon's name, as your orgasm hit you so intensely, squirting so hard as your body shook from it. your pussy clenched and twitched so much that that in itself was enough to bring poor simon to the breaking point.
holding you down tightly on him, which was definite to leave many loving, reminiscent marks of what had happened, he let out a lusty, heavy moan, burying his face in your shoulder, as hot spurts of his cum shot into you, intertwining with yours, creating a sticky mess between the two of you as it began to dribble out, getting flushed away through the shower water.
it took you some time to gather yourselves; to catch your breaths, come back to reality, to ground yourselves from the orgasms you had just experienced. simon slowly let you down, turning the shower off, looking down at you, as you slumped against him, barely managing to stand on quivering legs.
"well, that shower was pointless, wasn't it?"
but he wouldn't trade these moments for anything in the world.
(author's note: wrote this on a whim, not too proud of it đ€)
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One Single Thread of Gold
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Part 2 Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as readerâs background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated đ
The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.
âI saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleevesâthey would look great with it. Itâs tres boho chic.â
JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.
âDid you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?â
âWait, what?â Emily interjected.
He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. âYeah, yeah. Thereâs an article written about it in Vogueâsoftness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.â
They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.
Penelope was the first to break the silence. âVogue?â
âKid, what gives? Just the other time, you didnât know how many shoes a woman owns and now youâre some kind of expert?â Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.
âDid not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?â Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.
âWhat?â Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. âIâI like to read.â A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.
The three women shared a look.
âBut you read academic textbooks and classic literature,â JJ stated.
Penelope added on. âNot fashion magazines.â
He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. âI donât discriminate when it comes to reading. If itâs interestingââ he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. ââIâll read it.â
Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasnât the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.
âOkay, see you tomorrow!â he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.
She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy geniusâ erratic behavior. âHuh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?â
âMaybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.â Morgan shrugged.
The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasnât far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldnât shake the feeling that there was something else.
So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. Sheâll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.
âââ
Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his motherâyou.
âSpence?â You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. âIs that you, baby?â
âHey, love. I missed you,â he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.
You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfumeâthe same scent youâve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. âI missed you too. How was your day?â
âBetter now with you,â his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. âActually, I almost slipped up today.â
You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.
âYeah? Did any of them catch on?â you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.
He laughed, finding your aggression cute. âNo. At least, I donât think so.â
âMaybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,â you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. âI mean, weâve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while youâre away. Which is a lie, by the wayââ
âI have plants!â he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.
ââthat I brought over, Spence,â you quipped back. âBut donât worry, I wonât spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.â
There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. âLove, I wouldnât exactly call you naiveââ his voice going an octave lower. âânot when youâre looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.â
Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheekâa stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.
Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when heâs on his knees tasting nectar from the source.
The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bedâonly the cries of his and your name and moans of âyesâ echoed well into the night.
***
The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meantâluxury label and priced well above their pay grade.
She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldnât dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.
âReid, thatâs a really nice sweater,â she complimented, throwing in her bait.
He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. âYeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.â
Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. âCan I see it?â she innocently asked.
The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to herâstill warm from body temperature.
Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.
âWhat is it, baby girl?â Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. âItâs Reidâs new sweater. Are you seeing something Iâm not seeing?â
Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?
âHuh,â Emily surmised. âBased on the fibers, itâs definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?â
âIt says here on the tagâ100% virgin wool,â she read out loud. âThat makes it very expensive, right Garcia?â
The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. âRight you are, girlfriends! But itâs not only that, thisââ pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. ââthis is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollarsââ they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. âânow why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?â
With his vast intellect, he couldnât think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldnât very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question âfrom who?â He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.
When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.
âHey Spence, I got you something,â you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing itâs other half.
You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. âHere you go!â
âA new sweater!â He exclaimed.
You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. âI noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new oneââ your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. âânot that her gift wasnât great! No, it was very cute! Itâs justâI want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.â
He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about itâs nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.
He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. âI love it. Thank you.â
âItâs nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,â you reasoned. âPlus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.â
A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.
âOkay,â Morgan drawled. âWhatâs got you smiling, Pretty boy?â
âNothing,â he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.
âWe have a case,â Hotch announced.
The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reidâs irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.
âHeâs been acting weird,â Garcia rushed out. âDefinitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?â
Emily nodded. âAre you thinking what Iâm thinking?â
âA girl?â JJ guessed.
âYes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,â Garcia surmised. âDo you think heâll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?â
âFurther?â Emily clarified.
JJ laughed. âProbably, letâs wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?â
She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.
***
The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.
âCold Alaska is so not good for my skin,â she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. âI love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasnât it.â
Morgan chuckled. âAw câmon baby girl, donât tell me you didnât enjoy our time together?â
âYou, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,â Penelope turned to the other female profilers. âMy beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.â
Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.
âReid, since when do you carry lotion?â Emily inquired.
He shrugged. âHand cream has itâs benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on itâs properties, it can also repair and undo damage.â
The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.
âWe know that,â JJ stated. âWe just thought you didnât.â
His brows furrowed. âWhy wouldnât I?â
âWell, besides from the fact that youâve never shown interest about skincare before, isnât it a stereotype for men not to know? Unlessââ Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.
âUnless you have a girlfriend that we donât know about,â Garcia bounced on her seat.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Spencerâs eyes widened in alarm. He didnât realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. âWhat makes you say that?â
They laughed.
JJ started. âBesides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashionââ
ââor having a pricey sweater youâd never buy for yourselfââ Emily added on.
âOr, orââ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. ââhaving a shea butter lotion with rough hands!â She waved the tube up in the air. âPlus, this is half empty. So either itâs not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!â
Derek chuckled. âBaby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.â
âOh tell me something I donât know,â she quipped back. âSo Reid, want to tell us the truth?â
He sighed, finding no escape. âYes, yes I have a girlfriend.â
The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!
âLooks like that cat is out of the bag,â Rossi nonchalantly stated.
Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. âRossi, you knew about this and didnât tell me?â Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.
He laughed. âI caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over hereââ nodded in Reidâs direction. ââbegged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?â
âSix months ago?â Emily repeated.
âWait, wait. Hotch, donât tell me you also knew?â Morgan asked.
The unit chief smiled. âShe was added to Reidâs emergency contact last February.â
âFebruary? Thatâs almost a year ago!â JJ sputtered out.
The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. âReid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.â
âWhat about hearing it all from her, instead?â He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partnerâhopefully until the end of time. âShe wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.â
All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.
âMy man,â Derek sighed. âCanât believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.â
âAnswer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?â Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.
âThe prettiest,â Spencer gushed out. âSheâs my own personal sunshine.â
The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.
âShe makes you sappy too,â Derek teased.
***
[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]
Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.
Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. âYou okay there, lover boy? Sheâs still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?â
âYeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.â
Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. âYou know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldnât be sitting here worrying.â
âWhatâno Garcia, I donât want her tracked plus she didnât want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,â his voice going up an octave in your defense.
She shrugged. âIâm just saying. I mean we donât know a single thing about herââ
âWe do know she exists and youâve been together for almost a year now,â Emily interjected.
âActually, itâs been more than yearâone year and 124 days to be exact.â
âButtercup, all Iâm saying is we donât even know how she looksââ Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. âOh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bagâI wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.â
âOh sheâs pretty,â JJ noted.
Derek smirked. âBaby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her âcause I wouldnât mind asking for her number.â
The tech analystâs eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.
âYou werenât kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,â JJ appraised.
Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. âIt looks high quality, probably vintage andâis she going near us?â
âOh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!â Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derekâs arm.
The stranger stopped behind Spencer. âHey handsome,â your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. âFancy seeing you here.â
Penelopeâs jaw dropped as she took in Derekâs flustered reaction.
âMe?â He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for himâthe ladies man of the BAU.
You laughed. âWell, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mineââ you bent down, kissing your boyfriendâs cheek. âHey, Spence.â
A series of gasps were heard all around the table.
The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. âHey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.â
âI missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,â you explained as he helped you into your seat.
Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yoursâall attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.
He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.
Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but hereâspecifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found itâs way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three timesâcommunicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.
The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.
âOkay, Spence,â she smiled. âMind introducing us to your girlfriend?â
He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. âThis is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morganââ he gestured to each one. âEmily, JJ, and Garcia.â
âItâs nice to finally meet you!â You exclaimed. âSo sorry weâre only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agentââ you nudged Spencerâs shoulder. ââwanted to keep me to himself. But whereâs Aaron and Dave?â
Emily whispered under her breath. âAaron? Dave?â
âThey had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,â Spencer explained.
âLove?â Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.
You nodded. âIâll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?â
âHowâd you two meet?â JJ asked.
âWhen was the first date?â Emily inquired.
Penelope brought out a pen and paper. âWhatâs you social security number?â
Derek snorted at that. âDo you have any other siblings?â
Spencerâs eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.
âShe has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,â Spencer laid out. âNo need to make it sound like an interrogation.â He was wishing to keep you forever, if youâd let him.
You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. âYeah?â
âYeah.â
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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Something Stupid - G.S.
Synopsis. Five times the strongest would rather dĂe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends-to-lĂłvers, canon fix-it, PINING, dry-hĂșmping, face-sĂtting (fem receiving), creampĂe, overstĂm, PĂSSYDRUNK GOJO, rĂding him until he whĂnes, no smĂșt until theyâre adults obvs, slight ĂĄngst, manga spoilers, found family, THE HAPPY ENDING WE DESERVE, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 9.6k
A/N. Tumby lemme post this pwease? What canon? This is the only canon I know.

âCatch me if you-â
Sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru doesnât have the privilege of finishing his sentence - hell, he doesnât even have the privilege of standing, apparently.
Because in the blink of an eye, his back is hitting the soft grass of Jujutsu Tech, followed very shortly by a bewildered you. Foreheads knocking together, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, his own wrapping around your waist for some sense of stability.
Years later, Gojo tells everyone that would listen - and anyone that wonât - that life became just a bit brighter ever since you crashed into his life that day - literally.Â
But right now, heâs opening his mouth to spit an irritated, âWatch it!â
Itâs the first words you ever say to him, a shrill - almost hysterical - âHuh? No, you watch it-â
âNuh uh, you-â Head spinning, shades skewed, it takes Gojo a few seconds to screw his bleary eyes open to the sudden newcomer straddled on top of him. And a few more to register that no, he wasnât in heaven and hey, that uniform looks familiar. And, unfortunately, not even a split-second longer to breathe out something stupid, âIâŠI think I love y-â
âYou stupid, moronic- wait what?â
The next few words out of his mouth are just as bad as the last ones, if not worse. Because yes he knows - for once in his life - that maybe he should just stop talking. He knows that even a moment longer with you is gonna turn his mind into more of a melty, honeyed mess than Six Eyes ever could.Â
Which is exactly what he blames when jumbling out a garbled, âDinner tomorrow?â Wincing, Gojo swallows them back almost as quickly as he wished he was swallowed up by Getoâs rainbow dragon instead.Â
To your credit, you look a lot less bumbling than the strongest currently pinned underneath you. That look of annoyance on your pretty features melts into something of concern. And before he can dig a deeper hole for himself, youâre raising the back of your hand to splay out across his forehead.
âI didnât think you hit the ground that hard but-â you raise a brow, head tilting to the side. â-I think youâve got a concussion.â
Oh, yeah heâs definitely in heaven - that or actually concussed. Maybe both.
A low whistle sounds from his right - and soon enough heâs staring at the shoes of the other first-year heâd met just today. Low bangs hanging over his face, jostling with light cackles, âHavenât they told you not to confess your undying love until at least the second date, Gojo?â
Nevermind, he was in hell.
âIeri!â Geto turns towards the other girl, who was busy typing away on her phone. But Gojo couldâve sworn he heard the shutter of a camera coming from her way. âHe was flown out of bounds, thatâs gotta count as one point for me, right? And another for the pretty girl. You keepinâ score?â
She only sighs, âNo.â
Whatâs a first day at high school without a duel between two of the proudly self-proclaimed strongest? And, of course, you - the fourth addition to their little group, hastily scrambling off of Gojoâs lap at the jeering laughter from above.Â
Dammit.Â
Later, he might apologize for running headfirst into you - might. Ignoring the pointed giggles, and the burning rouge at the very tip of his ears, to find out your name. And to make up some stilted excuse about how that was completely the concussion talking and he totally wasnât serious about having dinner so please, please, please donât snitch to Yaga about the impromptu matches taking place on school groundsâŠunless?Â
But for now, Gojoâs only lazily turning to look up at Geto, bringing a hand up to squint against the harsh sun beating down. Or, at least, thatâs what it was meant to look like - âTechnique amplification: Blue!â
He only hopes the property damage isnât as high as what his poor heart had just gone through. Detention with Yaga be damned - and if by some grace of the universe he actually does end up escaping before heâs caught then, well, heâll actually ask you out to dinner tomorrow.Â
---
Gojo Satoru is almost eighteen when he thinks that not even the Gojo familyâs most expensive insurance will cover whatever curse youâve casted on his poor heart.
Youâre both well into the second year, and by now heâd been to twelve different doctors, five shamans, and Principal Yaga himself before Geto smacked him upside the head.Â
âSatoru, you complete imbecile-â
âHey!â He fights out of his best friendâs grasp around the scruff of his uniform, crossing his arms over his chest with a whine, âIâll have you know that I got the highest exam score last week, and I cheated only a little bit-â
Geto cuts him off with a sigh, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose, âNo- you idiot. What do you mean you went to Yaga to girl-talk with him about your crush.â And when Gojoâs mouth falls slack, heâs smirking, âOh- my bad, I meant your love-â
Itâs said that Gojoâs gasp echoed all throughout the wooden corridors of the school - maybe even the entire grounds. Hotly, heâs sputtering out broken little excuses, âI donât- what do you-â Before turning away to cool the burning of his sweetly rosy cheeks, âYouâre the imbecile for spewing out such nonsense, Suguru.â
âAre you sure?â Geto turns to get a better look at the way those pretentiously expensive glasses fail to cover even the half of it. Heâs never been able to, when it comes to you. âBecause thatâs quite literally the first thing you said to her-â
âI had a concussion!â
âAfter she touched you?âÂ
And for perhaps the first time in the years heâs been wreaking havoc on Earth, Gojo is speechless. A welcome change for Geto, who mulls over in the silence while they loiter - very much missing whatever mission was assigned right now.Â
âIâŠâ he starts, voice small. Pathetic, even. â...was concussed.â And before Geto can let out the same frustrated, dragged-out groan he often does whenever heâs around the two of you, Gojoâs plowing on, âBut if I did lo- like her - hypothetically speaking - how would I even tell her?â
Usually, the otherâs first reaction would be to tease his best friend. But at this moment he sounded soâŠyoung, painfully sincere in a way that was so disgustingly un-Gojo-like that he canât help but cringe.
âWell, Satoru.â he muses, throwing a hand around his shoulder. âYou just gottaâŠtell her my man. Preferably before that big mission coming up because I am not dragging your moping self around.â
He rolls his eyes, scoffing, âGee, thanks. Iâll totally get on that tomorrow.â
âYouâre welcome.â
BANG!
Yagaâs voice bellows, âCan you two stop doing this outside my office!â
And as much as Gojo hates to admit it, Geto was right - he usually was.Â
Well - perhaps not about the love part, but subconsciously, he found himself seeking out every tiny moment with you. Every second by your side - ignoring the other two bothers - was a new opportunity to just tell you. To break that thick solitude inside your little bubble with those little words. Ones that would go and spoil it all.Â
Not to be dramatic, but Gojo almost made a game out of it. Mouthing out the words whenever your back was turned - it started from âDinner tomorrow?â to âI like you.â to something stupid that only gave Shoko aneurysms.Â
And, expectedly, âtomorrowâ doesnât happen to be tomorrow.Â
Tomorrow isnât in your next class, or whatever mission Gojo tags along with you for âmoral support.â Tomorrow isnât the cozy little detention the two of you attend after catching Yagaâs interpretive dance routine - âthatâs the scariest thing Iâve ever seen- even more than any curse.â you whisper fearfully to him, and he thinks he might just blurt it out right then and there.
Tomorrow isnât when heâs just about to leave on some confidential mission with Geto, bidding you goodbye with a roll of his eyes and a hug he pretends he doesnât like as much as he actually does. Tomorrow isnât even when heâs baking in Okinawan sun, or strewn out bloodied and left for dead on the very grounds he met you on.Â
But oh how he wishes it was.
In that moment, incapacitated by Toji Fushiguro, and wondering where it went wrong, he thinks of you. Gojo thinks heâll always remember you in every moment, and especially when theyâre his last.
The Star Plasma Vessel mission and its aftermath takes up most of his mind afterward, even when he didnât want it to. And all he can remember about tomorrow comes only a few months later, when an ashen-faced Gojo Satoru slams open the rickety door to your dorm.
âG-Gojo?â you sputter, sitting up in your bed. But before you can even think of reaching him, heâs crossed your floor in a few long strides. âAre you ok- mmpf!â
In an instant, heâs splaying out on your mattress, legs dangling off the end, strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist.Â
Your first instinct is to snap something snarky - but every tease at the very tip of your tongue vanishes when he buries his head into your lap. And you feel something wet, something drench though your skirt heatedly.Â
âIsâŠâ youâre gulping thickly. âIs everything okay, Satoru?â
Ah, his name sounds too perfect on your tongue.Â
âSuguruâŠâ Is all he shudders out wetly, jittery hands looping even more vice-like around your figure. âHe-â
Itâs just about the only thing he can get out, and itâs just about everything you need to hear before bringing his shivering body closer. Quiet. Steady. Rocking the strongest gently, while you hum a wordless melody. âSâalright. Sâgonna be okay.â
Now, he thinks. Now now now now - tell her. Tell her. But when a tear of your own stains his shirt, he knows. Hauling you in even deeper to his chest, he prays you donât hear his thundering heart. Perhaps tomorrow.Â
---
Gojo is twenty-one by the time heâs dragging you hand-in-loveable-hand through the winding hallways of an apartment in the heart of Tokyo. Mumbling excited little mutters, and almost tripping over his own feet with how fast he was navigating the corridors.Â
âSato- S-Sato-â youâre squealing out, grimacing at the tugging burn of your hands in his. âToru! Where are you- taking me?âÂ
Sheepishly, he looks at you over his shoulder, âWhoops, did I forget to tell you- I have kids!â
He doesnât know whatâs louder - your shocked shout of âWhat? When?...By who?â or the screeching of his own two shoes skidding to a halt in front of that familiar door.Â
âWell, theyâre not mine.â Gojo sighs ultimately, with a hand at the door. And that makes you quieten down just enough to hear his barely-audible little whisper. Determined. Reverent, almost. âBut theyâre mine.â
And when he finally opens the door, just one look at the tiny, black-haired little boy and his sharp scowl is all you need to understand. Youâre whirling your eyes back to his beaming gaze, oh, Satoru.
Only mere moments later the two of you - accompanied by a very begrudging Megumi, and his sister - sit by the booth of one of your favorite cafĂ©s. Embarrassingly, he finds himself sighing while watching you crack jokes with the little girl. Turning to the server to order for her - it almost felt like a little family. Oh youâd make such a perfect mother. A completely objective observation, of course. Completely. Unless-Â
âYouâll never do it.â a tug on his sleeve has him facing Megumiâs leveled stare. How the hell does a kid manage to look like heâs seen the monstrosities of the world already? Gojo blames the father.
Baring his teeth, âThe hellâs that supposed to mean?â
Little did he know that all it took was watching him seethe whenever the waiter by your side was just a bit too talkative, a bit too lingering with his gaze. In his little reverie, Gojo had accidentally croaked out a low, âI-â before youâd turned those pretty eyes his way, only to choke back embarrassingly on every syllable. Gesturing at you to ignore his little mishap.Â
âTell her, I mean.â Megumi hums. Taking a wizened sip of his milkshake, âSheâll date that waiter before you if you donât tell her.â
âThatâs soâŠso stupid.â Gojo whispers back hotly. âI will tell her.â
âWill not.â
âWill too.â
âWill not.â
âWill-âÂ
âBoys!â Your scolding tone makes them both jump - mainly Gojo, however, caught off-guard. Who scratches behind his neck when you wag a finger admonishingly, âStop arguing, weâre in public. Now, as for payment-â Before turning back politely to the waiter.
âSee?â Megumi counters, back to appraising the last of his cupcake. âYouâre such a loser.â
Gojoâs gaze, however, stray back your way, as he found them often doing these days. Only to find them already on him, scrunched into crescents with a smile and twinkling so bright that he could almost catch his idiotic gawking in them.Â
Very pointedly he ignores the knowing roll of Megumiâs eyes, the exact type heâs seen too much with Shoko, and Nanami, and Utahime, and Yaga - and every single being to come into contact with his almost-tangibly hopeless feelings for you.
Instead, slamming that shiny new black card of his down in front of him - with enough fervor that the tabletop jostles, and you jolt out of your conversation with the waiter.Â
âIâll be the one paying for myself, and my two kids and-â His burning eyes drink in every shred of surprise on your features. â-my wife.â
Somewhere in the distance, Gojo can hear Tsumiki giggle, and Megumi smack a hand onto his forehead. But right now heâs too busy remembering the exact degree to which your lips curl up, the way you hold back a laugh at the waiterâs jaw dropping. Nevermind the fact that the two of you were way too young to have two kids of this age.Â
âHe was getting a bit pushy.â youâd conspire afterwards, now completely full and fatigued after a long day. âThanks for that, Toru.â
Gojo sighs, flashing you a megawatt grin. If there were ever a time he thanks his Six Eyes for being able to memorize every little detail - every little feature in this picture - then it would be right now. Heâs reveling in the bittersweet perfection. Yeah, he thinks, holding up a sleepy Megumi in his arms, maybe tomorrow.
---
Thereâs actually been about sixty different times over the years that Gojo knows youâd wanted to punch him straight in his face - and heâs sure, at the age of twenty-seven, that this is the very latest one.Â
âHow did you get hit, donât you have limitless?â
He shoots a wink your way, âMaybe I wanted you to patch me up?â
You scoff, âYou stupid, moronic-â
â-no-brained, glasses-wearing dumbass.â he finishes for you, flashing you a cocky smirk that wouldnât have been endearing for anyone but him. Gojo makes himself more comfortable on the hard infirmary bed, âYou know, youâve really got to update your list of insults, sweetheart. I donât even wear the shades that much anymore.â
It was new - as soon as youâd cackled at the idea of him being a teacher with perpetual sunglasses, heâd wrapped that blindfold around his head. It was a slight shame, frankly, he was always honest with his eyes - but what was more important was that change.
Sweetheart.
Sometime after youâd intertwined seamlessly into Gojoâs mishmashed little family, heâd taken to calling you syrupy sweet nicknames. Itâd started out as a joke, you think - with âsugarplumâ and âhoneybucketsâ and whatever grocery item he could think of, before turning into something very, very real.Â
Though, they still made poor Megumi grimace in disgust just the same.
âZoning out on me, babygirl?âÂ
Yeah, sometimes they made you grimace in disgust, too.Â
âNo-â youâre rolling your eyes, putting a little bit more force than necessary when you dab the warm napkin at those tiny specks of blood on his lip. âJust hoping youâd shut up.â
Gojo hisses, eyes crinkling at the edges - and you canât help but think of how much older he looked than the disgruntled sixteen-year-old that swore at you on your first day.Â
âWhat?â his snowy brows raise, catching the hints of your laughter.Â
You take a moment longer to bask in the memories, before sighing. âNothing. Just thinking about when we first met, sâbeen ten years already, hasnât it?â
Of course, it has - itâs not like something the great Gojo Satoru could ever even think about forgetting. He remembers it in every cheesy selfie from high school you show him, he remembers in each and every one of your laughs at his overused jokes - the same ones heâd cracked way back then.Â
âIt has.â heâs settling on after a few rare beats of silence. The thick white sheets on the bed rustle as he grasps your hand in his, âAnd I think I remember that today more than any other.â
It was impossible not to, when youâd just met your best friend after ten years. When youâd just killed your best friend with your own two hands.
Your pretty eyes shine with all the tears youâd been hiding, âYeah? Guess so, huh?â Without warning, you bend down to meet your forehead with his, gulping back heavily. You knew he didnât just want to be patched up, you knew better. And you knew that even the strongest gets lonely. Especially the strongest. Your voice is strained, quiet. âDo you think heâs happier now, Toru?â
Truthfully, Gojo doesnât know.Â
But he whispers anyway, âI think so.â
To soothe you - and himself - if anything.
His eyes burn, and heâs scrunching them shut. A lump forming in his throat, Gojo can feel his entire being just rattle with the sudden wonder whether youâd feel it just the same when - if - he dies. Would you ask if heâs happy, too? Thinking he did and had everything he wanted in this life - not knowing heâs searching for you in every one? This life, and the next, and each one after.
âSweetheart.â Gojo mumbles, eyes widening when youâre raising your head to look back at him, as if he didnât even expect the words to fall from his lips. His jaw clenches, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips like the rest of it was just threatening to wrench from his throat. âHe- Suguru. Back in high school - before heâŠleft- he told me-âÂ
âGojo sensei, where is the- Oh!â
The two of you jump apart as if it burned, and for Gojo, the angry split on his lower lip hurts infinitely less than losing your touch. Holding back a silent whine, he turns towards the dark-haired boy fretting by the doorway, âYuta? Something wrong?â
âOh, youâve done it, newbie.â Pandaâs deep voice sounds from behind the doorway, and he peaks his large head in. âGojoâs got his serious voice on, shouldâve just spied silently like me. I told you not to interrupt him and his wife.â
âYouâre married?!â
âWeâre not married!â
âTuna.â
The room erupts in far too many voices, and before long youâre clapping your hands in that strict teacherly manner that Gojo teases you always learned from Yaga himself.Â
âOkay, thatâs enough.â you call out, before turning to the newest first year. âOkkotsu, do you need help with anything? Iâll be right with you.âÂ
âIâŠI really didnât mean to interrupt.â heâs bowing with apologies, ones that you only wave away with a chuckled-out, âItâs okay, Pandaâs joking. Weâre not married or anything anyway.â
And Gojo doesnât know whether the look Yuta gives him is more akin to pity or understanding - he prefers it be neither, which is why heâs covering his head with the blanket. Groaning dramatically until youâre turning your attention back to him.Â
You ruffle the amount of his hair peaking, and he has to screw his glassy eyes shut. âToru, what is it that you wanted to say?â
âDonât worry about it, itâs stupid.â His tone is unreadable, âIâll tell you, hope- hopefully tomorrow.â
---
âStay.â
âSweetheart-â
âStay.â
âSweetheart.âÂ
Youâre barely holding up the clingy mess that is a twenty-nine-year-old Gojo Satoru. Huffing and puffing in a way that makes his heart and his arms around you just squeeze, âItâs not an option. You know I have to do this.â
How he wished he didnât.
How he wished he could grab your hand and run away from the fight with Sukuna, hide in the countryside of his hometown and build a new life with you.
Itâs already been a hellish few weeks trying to get Gojo unsealed, and you can feel the last few months pounding at your temples. You let out a sigh, one that has him holding back a strangely giddy laugh. But before you can open your mouth to yell at him to not go - or more accurately, beg him until he doesnât - thereâs a tentative voice speaking up from behind you.Â
âUmâŠsensei?â Yujiâs wide eyes sweep over his two teachers, being at Jujutsu Tech for a few months, heâs seen everything there is to see about the two of you. He saw the way you smacked the strongest when he got too mouthy, the way he let down limitless just so you could smack him. He saw the laughs, the looks, the way youâd flown into a frenzy when Gojo was sealed.Â
Everyone saw.
It was like you were crazed, and right now, only a month after his return - you were gripping onto Gojo like he was the only thing keeping you anything but.Â
So, it shouldnât be new at this point. But he still canât hold back the wonder in his voice, âI uh- wanted to ask about your robes for tomorrow- but maybe I can come back another time?â
âYes yes, come back another time-â
âWhat robes?âÂ
You narrow your eyes at the man, and that sheepish little curl of his lips does everything but soothe your worries. He knew you saw right through him, you always did.Â
Gojoâs exclaiming out loud, âWell- remember Toji-?â He waves his hands around, trying for a slightly softer way to say âthe sorcerer killer and father of our honorary kid, who just-so-happens to be on a rampage right nowâ, before ultimately settling on, â-the worm guy? Well, I just figured I might as well take a page out of his book and dress like him, yâknow since Iâm fightingâŠMegumi after all.â
It takes a few seconds of stunned silence for you to find your voice, âYou stupid-âÂ
â-moronic, no-brained, blindfold-wearing-â
â-dumbass! You remember what happened to him!âÂ
He bats his long, long lashes at you, âWhy? Would you get this heated if I died just the same way he did?â
âNo!â Your voice makes even Yuji flinch, which in turn has you reaching over to pat his head, âThis is not on you, darling, of course. But your teacher here-â And it was comical, almost, the way the strongest stands up ramrod straight at just a leveled glare from you, â-will be getting it when he comes back from the fight.â
Comes back.
Oh, as much as Gojo throws his head back with chortles, he canât help the way his heart twinges at the very thought of leaving you.Â
And he canât be sure of just how long.
âAh, you talk too much, pretty. Iâll tell Megs how much you miss him.â Youâre not given a secondâs warning before youâre back in his embrace - more steady, this time. His arms securely around your waist, like theyâd been twelve years ago and never wanted to leave since. Lips pressed up against the thundering pulse at your neck, Gojoâs voice dips just a bit lower than youâre used to. Breathing you in, âI will, too, yâknow? Very much.â
Jittery, he could feel every slight tremor in your nervous fingers when you run them through his hair, dipping into the ends of his black blindfold.Â
âWh-what do you mean? Sâonly for a few hours, Toru.â you hum. âYou better be back or so help me.â
âI knowâŠâ he heaves out, only pressing you close up against his broad frame. âBut just in case- I-â Gojoâs voice cracks pathetically at the end, and heâs instantly too aware of Yujiâs keen eyes still watching. Edging up against the corner of the room like he wished he could have Gojoâs teleportation powers right about now. â-have something stupid to tell you. So Iâll hurry home anyways.â
Youâre pulling back to quirk a brow, âWhy not just tell me now?â
How he wished he could.
âBecause itâs stupid.âÂ
Later, Gojo will find himself strewn across jujutsu hall with Yuji himself - the only one, other than you, he thinks, that can stand to be around a weapon like him right now. Listening to the hum of cursed energy in the air, he gets himself ready for the fight.
âWhy didnât you tell her? Especially now?â His student pipes up, suddenly, and Gojo remembers with a sigh just how uncomfortably in tune he is with everyone around him. Fearfully, so. âThat you lov-â
âBecause itâs stupid.â the older one grins. Such a sad, warmly smile - and for perhaps the first time, Yuji thinks that Gojo Satoru looks his age. âAnd I donât think sheâd want to hear it if I donât make it to tomorrow.â
---
âStupid.â you mutter, biting angrily at your nails. Hot tears burn behind your closed lids, and you canât help but tighten your hand even more around his cold, cold ones. Limp. Like death. âYouâre so, so stupid.â
Thereâs no response. No sing-song voice finishing off your insults, no large and ruffling your hair until you have to bat him away.Â
Gojo Satoru was deathly still.Â
Laid out on the cold mattress of his room, youâd bugged Shoko enough to let you move him here, knowing how much he hated the infirmary.Â
âBeing so reckless- having Yuta use your body-â in your fit of anger, youâre whirling your head up. Only for the pang of regret and grief to hit you tenfold all over again - because like this, he was too statuesque. A pretty mask of pale, what youâd give to have those eyes wink at you once more. â-if- when you wake up, Iâm gonna kill you all over again.â
They told you he was dead - there was no point in waiting. In fact, you were sure there was a grave dug already, it was just a matter of how soon they could get to you.Â
It was a strange thing, to be loved just enough to get a burial. In the end, it was lonely.
And so stupid.Â
And at times, you felt that way, too. But all it took was one visit to where Getoâs grave was, a few long hours sat by his side, and you knew you couldnât let Gojo escape you that easily. Not after everything, not after what he hasnât told you, yet.
âJust wake up.â you sigh, the defeat bleeding into your every word. You run your thumb over the pronounced knuckles on his hand, calloused and scarred from his fight. âThereâs so much to hear about. Higurumaâs alive, Nobaraâs alive, pulling off that eyepatch. Like father, like daughter, huh? And Megumi- I saw Megumi laugh today. Yuji, too.â
Silence. Only stone-cold silence. He didnât even move - not even the barest twitch of a finger.
âI just need you to wake up.â Your words are tumbling out a mile a minute, distantly, you wonder whether this was how Gojo felt when he first met you. How he couldnât stop talking. Couldnât stop wanting. âShokoâs mad at you, yâknow? But I know she misses you, no matter how much she pretends not to. I know that Jujutsu Tech canât go any longer without Yaga, we- I need you. Didnât even get to tell you-âÂ
Itâs all croaked out into a deafening silence, at least if you were in the hospital room then maybe the pinging of the heart monitor mightâve accompanied you. But theyâd pulled him off that, too.Â
Unmistakable.Â
âAnd I know that IâŠâ You bury your face into the now-damp blankets, âI love you.â
âAnd I love you.â
Thereâs only the split-second you take to snap your head up before lips are crashing onto yours - plump, slightly-chapped but something so sweetly Satoru. Before you can even think about kissing back, however, heâs pulling away.Â
Only to press hasty, chaste pecks again. And again. And again and again and-
Gojo kisses your wet eyelids, âI love you.â Your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips. âI love you I love you I love you- and you beat me to it.â Those strained little words strike your very core - because itâs unmistakably Gojo. Sounding anything but, theyâre broken and wrenching painfully out of his wracking chest. âSo I just- I just had to-â Big, strong arms wrap around your middle - when did they even get there? It pangs somewhere in your hazy mind that youâre basically hoisted up on Gojoâs bed now, â-to do exactly what Iâve been wanting to since we were like this, thirteen years ago. Everything Iâve ever hoped for.â
âEverything?â you whisper.
âEverything. Even the strongest has dreams, yâknow?â And he flashes you that smile youâve missed so much, one you donât think youâve quite seen in years. âEven something stupid like âI love you.ââ
That makes you cautiously glide over your palms onto the planes of his muscled chest, lightly pushing away to take in all of him.Â
It was him. Alive.Â
Really alive.
âGojoâŠâ you whimper, tears welling up behind your eyelids all over again.
âOuch. Really?â
âSatoru.â
âHmmmâŠâ
âToru.â
âThatâs more like it.â The circled warmth around your waist crashes you even closer onto every ridge and divot of his hard chest, into the sweetest embrace - the kind you really couldnât be mad about after your best friend had almost left you forever. âTold ya Iâd come back, sweetheart.â
You could practically hear the sunshiney smile in his words, and his entire hulking body shook with emotion.Â
âYouâre back.â you breathe, dancing your arms upwards to wrap around his neck. âYouâre here.â It takes only a second longer of being in his burning proximity, to catch that pearly white smile - tired, and infinitely harder than before - to have some semblance of rationality dipping into your mind. â-and- and we have to tell everyone!â youâre yelping. Moving to scramble off of his lap, âOh- fuck, and they thought I was crazy. We have to- have to have Shoko give you a check-up and have Kusakabe finally ditch those funeral plans and-âÂ
Youâre being shut up by Gojoâs lips on yours again, slow and sensual. Itâs deeper this time, and heâs taking the time to part those candied lips of yours, sucking gently on the very tip of your hot tongue.Â
âMy funeral is the last thing I wanna think about right now.â he chuckles against your lips.
âBut-â
âTomorrow.â Gojo soothes, craning his weary neck to kiss your forehead. âWe can do all that tomorrow. But right now, I just want to spend time with the love of my life.â His cerulean eyes just gleam with unshed tears and even more unspoken words, âDoesnât have to be forever. Just right now.â
As promised, heâs petting up and down your body lazily. Kissing you until even smiling felt bruised and raw. But itâs only when the air grows thick, when the slight jostle of your body on top of his becomes hot, his own skin burning soon after that Gojo lets out a sullen hiss.Â
âToru-â you pull away panickedly, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the nonexistent air between you two. âWe should really-â
âNo- no no no no. Please wait-â Hastily, heâs bringing down a jittery hand to his hip, the buzz of reversed curse technique flowing through his thrumming veins. Meeting your uncertain gaze, âIâve waited so long. Wontcha just let me worship you right now?â
As if to prove his point, heâs bucking upwards ever-so-slightly. The momentum teetering you precariously on his lap, dragging the heated core between your legs down in such a sloppy drag.
Youâre gasping when the very outer edges of your panties rub up against something so hard, and rotund. Feeling the wet squelch of his angry tip gush out in a dripping wet wave at the friction. âA-are you sure?â youâre stammering, trying to hold back the way your greedy thighs were trying to rub together. Only achieving heavy, languid gyrations on top of the rock-hard outline of Gojoâs cock. âHow about tomorrow? When youâre feeling better?â
Itâs a slow, steady rhythm. Thereâs a ringing schwf! schwf! schwf! of sopping wet fabric, and it was driving him crazy.Â
âRight now please- haaa-â Gojoâs tongue lolls out so sluttily to graze against your own, dazed blue irises rolling to the back of his head. His spine curves upwards, abs rippling with a harsh drag of your clothed pussy down his weepy shaft. âWhenever youâd have me.â
Almost tentatively, your hips roll forward. That flimsy excuse of your panties bunching up with each grazing rub, itâs all you can do to not just keen at the utterly delicious curve of his thick girth. Throbbing and twitchy under each of your motions.Â
Heâs hissing when your underwear snags on the very divot at his thick head, sitting up on two elbows, âS-sweetheart.â
âNo, Toru.â your palms are back on his pecs, easily pinning the strongest down with a gentle push of your own. âJusâ let me do all the work, mâkay?â
Gojo wasnât all too happy - and the sullen pout jutting on his spit-glossed lips told you more than enough. But he wasnât going down without a fight - that was for sure.Â
âF-fine.â he grunts at a particularly harsh grind of your hips. Fuck, he felt like some animal, humping up into you like he was out of control. He could practically feel your puffed-up pussy lips through his pants, he could almost taste it. Two rough hands come to rest on your hips, grabbing and kneading a handful of your ass. âBut then youâre not just hah- sitting there, pretty.âÂ
And, shit, even like this, you shouldâve known better than to underestimate Gojo Satoru himself. Because whatever he wanted, he got. The one thing he didnât was you - and now, since he had you, too, fuck- he might just be going insane.Â
Not a momentâs wasted before youâre being so easily hauled up, up, up the entire expanse of Gojoâs body. Jittery body being balanced easily as if you were some type of toy, up from the slender curve of his toned hips, up around where his broad deltoids were spread, all the way until your cunt was hovering over his needy mouth. âCanât believe I hngh- almost died without havinâ a taste of this pretty pussy.â
âToru.â
âSweetheart.â he mocks.
You shiver with each feverish puff of hot breath blown right onto your clothed cunt. And even more so when youâre feeling such a long, slender finger slide in through the translucent fabric.Â
Fuck, Gojo swallows thickly, bunching up your skirt. You were so sopping wet he could almost see the outline of his index through your panties. He slides the back of it slowly up and down. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the volume of your saturated slick collecting on his digit, just trailing glossily down to his deft wrist.Â
Mesmerized, your jaw falls slack at the sight down below of Gojo - cloudy hair mussed, cheeks all pink and burning a blushing rouge, tongue darting out to catch each stray drop of your sweet sweet juices. Drip! Drip! Drip!Â
âOh- sh-shiiit-â he rasps, lowly, mulling over your honeyed taste. Sounding so awed, breath hitching when Gojo tugs your panties just enough to the side to catch a mere glimpse of your messy cunt. Glistening and winking down lewdly at him. âSâjusâ you nâ me right now, huh?â
You donât know who exactly heâs talking to - and you donât get to find out, because thatâs all it takes for Gojoâs kiss-bitten lips to clash messily against your cunt - panties and all.Â
A soft swipe of his tongue glides the fabric to the side, so depraved, so needy that for that split-second heâs tasting you, he canât even think of removing it. One taste of your sweetened pussy and he canât even bear the thought of breaking apart, licking up in long, languid stripes that wet the very front of your swollen folds.Â
Just the taste of you had him palming desperately at the tent in his pants, rubbing up and down at a pace that matched his rummaging tongue.
The very edge of your tastebuds rub so deliciously in teasing circles around the corners of your dripping silt, your inner thighs.Â
âS-sâtoru-â youâre letting out such throaty, dragged-out groans that send every drop of blood in Gojoâs body thumping to his achy cock. âDonât be such a- a tease.â
Youâre locking your glassy eyes with him and he feels like he could pass out. Groaning and smacking into your cunt, âTell me- fuck fuck fuck- tell me what you want, sweetheart. Anything.â Your entire body arches into his hot mouth like such a slut, when he bullies between your folds. Barely flicking against the sensitive nub of your clit. âEverything. Anything for you.â Â
When youâre weaving your fingers deliriously through his silky soft strands, he babbles, âOh fuck- yeah, pull on my hair.â One of his hands come down to grip onto your panties, pulling the fabric so that you revel in the filthy friction. âUse me while you ride mâface, okay?â
With that, his mouth is sagging open even further letting your thighs straddle the entirety of his face so easily. So close. So messy how he was carding his tongue from the very base of your pussy, up into your quivering entrance.
âFuckââ youâre whining, grinding into his touch when he wraps his soft lips around your clit. Barely even easing you with syrupy, wet circles of his heated tongue before sucking. Harsh. Depraved. But so, so him. âDonâ- donâ stop, feels too goodâ!â
You didnât know if he heard you, fuck you didnât even know if Gojo was even breathing.Â
Even if he wanted to stop - he didnât think he could. Because he was so ravenous between your legs, forcing your pliant body into such smooth gyrations on his tongue. Silken, soft, such sultry licks of his tongue on your clit.Â
Electricity sparks behind your eyes when with a wet slurp! he smacks away from your pretty pussy, âYou think- you think I can stop?â And he sounds so genuinely in disbelief, as if the very thought of it was appalling. Through heavy, lingering kisses and sucks onto your clit, Gojoâs managing to get out, âI canât have enough. Fuck- please.â The very rounded pads of his fingers dig so bruisingly into the flesh of your ass, jiggling and kneading with every drag of your hips. Heâs begging at this point, âFuck yourself on my face. Rougher, faster, câmon now. You can do it, my sweetheart.âÂ
He was so fucking desperate, big fat tears almost welling in his eyes while he whined underneath you. Groping so obscenely at his sweltering hot erection. How could you not listen?
âIf you say so.â
Using the vice-like grip on his locks, youâre managing to leverage your motions even deeper. Rougher, like heâd wanted. Every protesting creak of the bedpost was accompanied by a synchronized whimpering of ah! ah! ah! coming from both your mouths.Â
âSâit good?â he gasps, and all you could see was the flushed upper half of his features. And the lower half - fuck, though the peaks and cracks you could make out just how glisteningly wet it was with all of your messy cunt. His lips were just drenched, slick-soaked mouth making out harshly with your pussy through your panties. Trailing all the way down in a glossy sheen over the lower half of his face, dripping off his chin, fuck- up to his cheekbones-Â
As if that wasnât enough, the massive palm resting at your thigh comes dancing down to tease around your sopping wet entrance.Â
If you were in the right state of mind, you couldâve sworn that you heard a sharp rip! coming from that poor tattered fabric of your underwear right then and there.Â
âTell me- fuck fuck fuck- use that pretty voice of yours please.â Still suckling lewdly on your clit, his cheeks hollow out . Entire body just jolting upwards, forcing you to press down harder with your motions. âUse me. Use me.â
âS-soââ you mewl when his slender fingers bully easily past that first ring of muscle. So many cold inches of his digits, feeling around determinedly inside your heated, gummy walls for those sweet spots that will make you whine. âSo loud, Toru-â youâre spitting, meshing his mouth even harder with yours down below. And you can practically feel him smirk against your cunt. âFor someone that wants this s-so hngh! bad you sure are-â
There.
Right there.
Gojo Satoru had just crashed into the spongy cavern of your g-spot - easily, at that. And there was such a crazed, sloppy sting to each of his movements. Smashing in over and over-
âHehâŠthaâs how I l-like it.â heâs spying up at your trembly thighs, the way his overworked lips were being coated with a fresh wave of our honeyed slick with each passing second. âGood girl- gooood fuckinâ girlââÂ
Hazily, youâre wondering whether it doesnât hurt. Whether his weepy cock ached just as badly as it looked, how his tongue isnât fucking cramping up by now.Â
But he goes on - like he couldnât stop, like he was out of control. A greedy little push and pull, dragging his tongue all over until you saw flashes of white. Until you could only scream out his name like a mantra. Until you were cumming.Â
âFuck- fuck fuck fuck- Toru!â your slurring out a mile a minute. Both of your hands now steadfast on his head, riding out your high all over Gojoâs pretty, pretty face. And he let you - fuck, he let you. âMâcumming- shit, feel so good. Mâcumming-â
So good, so filthy that it made your toes curl, your hips stutter sloppily. Arching like such a slut, you could barely even see properly. Your breath was coming out in such labored heaves at this point, and Gojo wasnât any better.Â
It was like he couldnât stop, happily drinking up every single, sticky drop your cunt had to offer. Pussydrunken eyes drooping shut, unable to let out anything but satisfied grunts. The muscle of his tongue is just frenzied in eager slips and slides along your cunt - absolutely no rhythm or method right now. Sucking, licking, biting anywhere he could possibly reach.Â
âF-fuckââ youâre crying out tearily once the very peak of your orgasm fades, and all thatâs left are a few overstimulated tingles being wrenched out by a greedy Gojo. âToru, mâdone.â You tug desperately on his hair - but even that doesnât bate him the slightest bit. âSâgetting too much- fuck-â
âAwww, too much for my girl?â heâs cooing, the words jumbling together in his drunken state. Thereâs a glossy mess of spit and slick drooling down the corners of his smirk. âDoes this cute cunt of yours need a break?â
At your barely-lucid nod, it only grows wider. Smugger. âToo bad-â And Gojoâs just taunting you with a final, long lick up the very core of your pussy, âBecause if I almost hah- died without her once, then you best believe mâgonna c-crawl back from death for ya each and every single time.â
It takes his strong arms - even bruised and battered through battle - only two whole seconds to plop you back down prettily onto his lap. Right over where his angry cock was just weeping for attention. And suddenly, it hurts without you. âSo youâre not getting a break anytime soon. Maybe tomorrow.â
âHa ha.â Youâre rolling your eyes, âVery funny.â
âMhm.â Gojo looks up at you through his white lashes, and you can only watch when he brings up his syrupy-sweet, glossy fingers up to his mouth. One by one. Sucking. Slowly, looking right into your eyes. It makes your mouth just salivate. âGot that right.â
The sheets billow behind you when youâre fumbling deftly with his shirt, all but ripping - tearing that stupid thing off of his form. Your skirt and top are soon to follow - his jaw clenches with the slight strain, leaving it in poor tatters on the floor.
âShit- shit youâve been-â his mouth just waters when your tits are released from your bra. Jiggling tantalizingly in his face in a way that makes him bury into it. â-been holding out on me.â
âOh-â you let out, traitorously, at the first sight of each curve and divot along his milky sculpted body. Gojo Satoru was serious about dressing up like Toji, and no matter how much his t-shirt looked so sinfully painted on - actually seeing it was something else. âYouâre so pretty, Toru.â You smooth your palms down his large shoulders, the faint scars between his pecs, his abs - that scar. Stark and large, Shoko had done her best work, but it still looked so painful. It must feel so, too, being sewn back together like some ragdoll. He catches the way your expression dampers - of course, he does. âToruâŠâ
Gojo winces when your fingers glide over that jagged scar. But if that was pain, then it was absolutely nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated fear when you abruptly pull your hands away.Â
âS-sorry- I didnât mean to-â
âNo!â he cuts you off, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. All but dragging it - right along with you - to his still-healing body. âTouch me. Hurts more when you donât.â
Youâre batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes his heart stutter, and his poor, angry cock twitch. ïżœïżœHurts me when you lie.â
âMânot lying, see?â With a low nod of his head, heâs gesturing you to look down - where it was unmissable.Â
Because straddled right in-between your pussy lips was Gojoâs erect cock - proud and so prominent, even through his pants. With the sheer girth bulging upwards you could feel your greedy pussy dampen over the cloth in anticipation.Â
âWellâŠâ Heâs throwing his head back when you knead your palm over the very end of his print, âI canât quite see-â
Gojo takes the hint - and you have to bite your lip from teasing that it was quite possibly the only hint youâd thrown his way that heâd actually understood. But it was so hard to - not when he was this eager.Â
And, on those long, lonely nights, youâd imagined that your best friend would be suave, infinitely collected with things like this.Â
But, no, he was fumbling and jittery with his movements. So needy to please you that it takes you to help him pull down his tight, sticky boxers over the curving muscle of his thighs.Â
âO-oh fuckââ you breathe out, when he finally springs out. Sweeping up and down each and every long, thick inch of him - Gojo was as hard as if he was carved out of fucking diamond. Such a furious, rosy red at his leaky tip, glistening down, down, down into the most mouth-watering shade of creamy pink at his thick hilt. He was so big. Your thighs squeeze together in sultry need - with a slight tinge of fear. So unfairly pretty - even like this. âYouâre- youâre so much bigger than Iâd imagined, Toru.âÂ
No sooner are the words out of your mouth that youâre being flashed with his dark smirk once more, âYou imagined this?â Thereâs a slight reverence to his voice, scared.Â
It almost makes you shy - and Gojo can practically sense the waves of embarrassment rolling off of you.Â
âAwww, come back to me, please, pretty- Please-â he purrs, cupping your cheeks. âI came hah- back, didnât I?â Youâre being jostled to and fro when he rests himself more comfortably on the bed, leaning back to admire you further. âAnd now-â Your breath hitches in your throat when he situates himself right in-between your thighs, the fat curve of his head so swelteringly kissing your folds. Drenching it in his thick precum, â-now mânever gonna let ya go.âÂ
Fuck, you know you should heave in a few gasps of hair, you know you should relax, maybe even stretch your legs wide open.
Because Gojo was so fucking big, it felt like he was splitting you from the inside out. Just the slight push of his tip bullying between your folds has you moaning - crying. Â
âYou- youâre so big-â Your nails dig into the plush of his pecs for stability, leaving neat crescent patterns that stand out redly. âSâlike youâre reaching into my hngh- l-lungs-â
Just those words have him expanding even deeper, ruddying even more furiously. Gojo gets so much bigger that you just canât help but sink yourself down his shaft, feeling your elastic walls contort so easily around his length.Â
âH-hehâ ohhh-â he breathes out - baritone voice lilting a few pitches higher than usual. The hands around your waist grab you even harsher, feeding you each inch by fucking inch of his fat, pulsing cock. âYou got me- soââ His hips thrust upwards in mindless little jabs, â-fucked up, right now, sweetheart.â
And while all you can do is whine and moan around his unforgiving cock, Gojo babbles on, âB-better get ready ngh- because Iâm gonna be riiiight-â His thick index draws and invisible line up, up, up to somewhere midway up your stomach. Before pressing down. Brandingly. â-here.â
The pressure is enough to have your hips just slamming down with a wet smack! all the way to his hilt. The slap of skin-on-skin rings through the heady air and into both your drunken brains, making him just throw his head back into the plush pillows.Â
âYes-â youâre keening, your fingers wrapping subconsciously around Gojoâs pretty throat to have him facing you once more. He was so gorgeous this way - blue eyes falling shut with pleasure, mouth bitten raw and parted into a soft oh! pale muscles twitching with each breath. So fucked-out already that it almost made you think the sight alone could have you cumming. âLook at me, Toru- hah- gonna make up for lost time, right? Gonna fuck me good?â
His answering nods are more than enough, but Gojo doesnât just stop there - no, heâs putting in every bit of last strength he has to just hammer into you upwards. Meeting every one of your relentless bounces down on him, he just clashes into your ravaged g-spot.
âOh yeah, my girl.â he spits, a twinkling trail of drool dripping down the side of his lips. Crushing you so tight to his hardened front, âRide me- ride me jusâ like that. Fuck- thought I saw heaven on the battlefield but it might jusâ be this pussy-â Over and over.
The back of your hand ends up on his forehead, âI think youâve got a concussion.â It was in every little touch - that âsomething stupid.â Â
At your surprised giggles, heâs rummaging your insides even more ferociously. Smushing the very end of his thick head against your spongy cervix. It was so soft, so swelteringly hot having him inside you. Clashing in long, wet glides against every inch of your pussy.Â
The stretch was dizzying - and if it hadnât been for Gojoâs lips attacking yours, then youâd have let your head loll backwards. Itâs like he was marking you from the inside out, bruising the plushy insides of your cunt to every ridge and thumping vein down his possessive cock.Â
âSpit on me.âÂ
His sudden plea puffs out of his plump lips, startling you out of your cockdrunk little reverie. âSpit on me, please, pretty. Mmpf-â
Gojo whimpers - whimpers - when the thick wad of your saliva hits his pink tongue, and the action has him delving into you impossibly deeper. Planting two feet onto the mattress, he angles his hips into your tight channel even harsher. Grimacing at the slight twinge of pain, âShit-â
âToruââ
âWait wait- please- let me-â Expectedly, heâs cutting you off frantically. Begging, pleading with everything he had before activating reversed curse technique more. âWanna fuck this gorgeous cunt so bad- fuck fuck fuck-â
But youâre only grinding your hips down faster - all the way from the pretty pink tip of his cock, until your ass massages against his tight, cum-filled balls. Thwacking! against your skin deliciously, pushing you up to scratch your clit against his snowy pubes.Â
A few more unapologetic kisses up against your sweet spots have you blinking back stars, âToruââ Your swiveling motions have him so hypnotized, following every move where his massive cock was disappearing in and out of your snug hole. âKiss me-â
Oh, you didnât even have to ask.
Itâs such a sloppy kiss - all teeth and lips and Gojo grunting gutturally into your mouth. Letting you just use him like your favorite toy, fucking him until the bed creaked with effort and Gojoâs balls just smacked! angrily.
âOh, sweetheart,â he whispers. Drinking in your saccharine sweet gasps when he dips down one of his hands to your puffy clit, rolling the soft edge of his thumb in slow, methodical circles. âYouâre gonna be the ah- d-death of me.â
Your hand around his throat tightens, making his eyes just roll back in ecstacy. âBetter not die on me just y-yet, Toru. Not now, not tomorrow.â
For this, youâre being gifted with such a tight squeeze of his two fingers around your sensitive nub. Wracking your body forwards - exactly where he wanted you, exactly where he needed you to smash his sobbing tip into your g-spot.Â
The stimulation is too much, and each of your pressurized slams down onto the sharp bones on Gojoâs v-line have him moaning. Bucking up helplessly whenever your heavenly walls drag sloppily up his shaft, like it hurt to not have each and every one of his heated inches buried inside.Â
âWell- then-â Youâre riding him now just as much as he was fucking up into you, leaving a damp puddle of slick and dredges of precum on the sheets below. Gojoâs punctuating each word with a harsh battering ram, âBetter- cum fâme soon, huh? Because mânot gonna- fuck-â His nagging tip jolts into your sweet spots as if being zapped with white-hot electricity, in such a sloppy staccato with his feverish fingers. â-fuck I donât think mâgonna last long.â
Youâre nodding your head, clinging onto him like a second skin. âMhm- mâso close, Toru.â Biting down wetly on his lower lip, â-gonna cum soon.â
Just the thought of it has him keening, stuttering up so messily. His precum coats your insides even more slippery slick, so heated in a way he thinks he might just explode.Â
âI know, I know, sweetheartââ heâs simpering down in your tone, though his hips were anything but. Letting out some of the lewdest slurps that made your ears ring. âI got you. I got you, cum all over my cock, yeah?â
It only takes a few more mess strokes from both of your sweat-sheened bodies before you finally reach your high. Electricity thrums down your veins, your body arches so deeply into his. Bending into the perfect bow that has him spying down at your quivering folds, the way your gushing cunt expands and contracts through each and every one of your waves of pleasure.Â
And heâs fucking you through it so filthy, fingers toying so erratically on your clit. Still reeling, still smashing the very divot of his cock into your bruised g-spot. Again and again.
âOhh- fuuuckââ Gojo whines, eyes scrunching shut. Strained. Depraved. âFuck fuck fuck me- please, please mâgonna-â
He doesnât even get to finish his sentence before heâs stuffing your snug pussy full with ribbon after ribbon of thick, velvety cum. Potent seed coating your gummy walls in such a milky sweet gloss, the squelches from below are so loud. So soppingly wet.Â
The hand at your waist moves down to where your poor cunt was just bulging with all inches of his spazzing cock. Gojoâs thumbing apart the corners of your slit just enough that his swelteringly hot cum oozes out of you in a slow trail. Sinful.Â
âOh my god-â he breathes, eyes unwavering. Hips thrusting upwards to push his cum up into you even deeper. It glistens opaquely down his length, forming a creamy ring at his thick base. âOh my god love you- fuck!â
âToru- mâso full-â you whine. A hand of yours coming up to press exactly where he had before, except now you could feel the nudging pace of his ruthless cock, the sloshing of Gojoâs seed all up inside you. â-really can feel you right here.â
âThaâs the point, girl - my girl, should I say.â heâs pressing such a chaste kiss to your lips. And it would be swee - almost - if it wasnât for the way Gojoâs greedy fingers soak themselves in the obscene mess from your cunt down below. Bringing them all the way up, up, up to his mouth. Suckling gently, âButâŠbut you wanna hear something stupid?â
Your eyes widen, âWh-what?â
And he only grins, âI hope you know I love you, sweetheart. Because you sure as hell arenât walking tomorrow.â
A/N. Can yâall tell Iâve been widowed not too long ago? Anyways, last post before kĂnktober! I tried posting this on Sunday but it refused to work so pray for me this time yâall *SOBS* <3
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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despicable
updates as of 22 oct




Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotesâ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.
âYou donât really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but thereâs some people who took some positive things from it,â Dermott said. âThatâs kind of what Iâm looking to impact.
âYou want to have everyone feel included and thatâs something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. Itâs not like I just just jumped on this train. Itâs something that Iâve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.â
âI wonât lie,â said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. âFrom the outside, itâs easy to see that Iâm putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but Iâd love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.
âI donât want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when itâs their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. Iâm not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but weâre going to find better ways to do it.â
As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.
âIâd be lying if I said I havenât shed tears about this on multiple occasions,â he said. âSo yeah, itâs something Iâm definitely very passionate about.
âIâve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that thereâs some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesnât take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.
âIâve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and itâs because of a system that maybe no oneâs intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until youâve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, itâs tough to kind of take steps.â
It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.
âItâs not like Iâm shutting up and going away,â he said. âI know more questions are going to be coming. Weâre just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. Thatâs the thing. Itâs gay pride that weâre talking about, but it could be menâs health. It could be any war. Itâs just wanting world peace. Everyoneâs got to love each other a little bit more.
âLike my parents said growing up, âHow awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?â Thatâs what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy thatâs having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, thatâs going to have an effect on you.
âWith how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that itâs not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.â
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mature

pairing: jungkook x reader
wordcount: 8k
glimpse: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back â the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.
alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.
[ push n pull fic YIPPPEEEEE, fluff, angst, So Much Yearning, friends to lovers trope, jealousy, dunking on a stewpid jk (as one does), arguments that kinda hit home, redemption!! ]
notes: WE R SO BACK!!!! thank u for waiting đ«đ€
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!
You will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want to be loved.
In your defense (much to Jungkookâs offence), you want to be loved as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Heâs not pathetic in the sense that heâs hopeless, but rather pathetic in the light that you want the entirety of him (stubbornness and occasional dimness included) to rub off on you.
You want to be loved pathetically in the same way that Jungkook never computes his expenses when it comes to self-indulgence yet always calculates when it comes to actual requirements. You want to be loved as wholly by the guy who can get by one DIY dorm dinner at a time by asking for scraps from the whole floor with a grin and his hands cupped in begging.
Jungkookâs one of your friends, if not the best youâve ever had, and itâs a miracle that you havenât jumped at each and every available chance to confess your growing feelings for him.
You bit your tongue that one time he bought you "one of those silly blind boxes you like" on a whim from a bookstore he only went inside to in the first place because he was dying outside in the heat, only to open it for you with your eyes closed and earn you an extra rare figure.
You had to physically restrain yourself (read: clasp your hands together in front of you) when Jungkook made you swap your counterfeit, barely-holding-on kitten heels for his trustworthy slides on the way home because your research presentation prior had you pacing nervously.
Every time that he gives you your tax of whatever he ordered (which always ends up being the best variant that your friend group could possibly order for a meal or a sweet treat), you have to etch into your head clearly, with ballpoint pen, that you will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want him to love you.
Every time that he gives you a one-on-one friend outing, just as he does with everyone else from your circle of ten people and counting (you lost count because you figure that all of you are about to outgrow the long table in the library that nobody else could fill), you convince yourself to never tell him how much you want it to be just you.
You figure that youâll tell Jungkook that you do hold a candle for him, despite not detailing the extent, in this lifetimeâ maybe even the next time you get a moment alone with him, but you figure you wonât do it now; now, when heâs berating you for just a tiny sacrifice you made thatâs minuscule for everything he does for you and everyone else.
âYouâre impossible!â he huffs, his annoyance for you being loud enough to stop his faux display of studying and gather attention from everyone else in the library who actually is. Jungkook holds up his phone for you to read, brows scrunched at your look of amusement. âJimin told me you were lactose intolerant!â
You canât figure how and why Jungkook and Jiminâs conversation even flitted towards you when you recall clearly that the lactose-filled meal in question was from two weeks ago. You donât question it because you already know that even giving it a second thought would already be too pompous of you, and you donât question either why Jungkook looks too devastated at the realization.
âI just tolerated it,â you snort, burying your nose back into your notes, missing the flash of regret in Jungkookâs features.
He doesnât know whether heâd feel more sorry over the fact that he didnât know you were lactose intolerant, or that you didnât speak up at all to preserve his excitement over eating at the restaurant he wanted to try out.
âBut why would you?â he sulks, completely foregoing the textbook he has opened on the same page for the last hour.
You know exactly why you did, but youâd rather not tell Jungkook now.Â
Youâll tell him some other time, that much youâre sure of, but not now â not now when heâs too devastated over your tummy issues, and not now when heâs just one revelation away from chewing you out over something he has to learn from someone else.
âYour broke ass bought it so I had to,â you murmur, rolling your eyes as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand.
âFoul,â Jungkook immediately chuckles, shaking his head at your retort even if he knows youâre just kidding around (he knows you wonât hurt him like that that), finally opening his laptop.
Jungkook, your friend, finally types on his laptop, yet itâs not for the contribution that he badly needs to put in for a group project.
Instead, he opens up the Google Doc and writes in a bullet point underneath your name, the words do not give cheese acquainted with three exclamation points â along with your name, is the names of your mutual friends and Jungkookâs observations that would come in handy for an outing, a gift, or both.
Jungkookâs that good of a friend, and thatâs why youâll never tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him.
( ⥠)Â
Getting gifts for someone who has a credit card and has no inhibitions when it comes to buying whatever they want is a difficult task.
Getting Jungkook for Secret Santa this year is even harder than the last, and that was when Jin snuck five strips of his name and left more than five of you (you donât even know how that happened) without gifts, all while he was laughing to himself after he successfully gaslit everyone into thinking that they were all drunk and made the mistake themselves.
You donât know what to give Jungkook that he doesnât already have. He doesnât have a girlfriend the last time you checked and while you canât exactly wrap yourself in ugly, recycled kraft paper (as opposed to Jiminâs dumb, all-knowing-about-your-hidden-feelings suggestion), youâd rather not drive Jungkook away, even if you donât know either how to drive him in.
You donât have the slightest clue to what his âsurprise me ;)â scribble underneath his name means and it makes you feel guilty, far more than he ever could have after Jiminâs revelation of your dietary restrictions.Â
Itâs not the dilemma of who would sit next to who in the large albeit crowded dining table in the cabin that you rented out, nor is it the cooking and wrapping duties that each of you are tasked with that stresses you out this holiday season.
You wish so badly that the largest champagne problem you have at the moment was wondering if your Christmas gift for your nitpicky mom and nonchalant dad back at home arrived in time. You pray that your biggest hurdle is either convincing Namjoon that his room is just cold and not haunted, or breaking off a fight between Eunwoo and Soomin because they keep fighting over whose overpriced film camera will be used for the picture by the tree, or even talking Mingyu down from smacking Jin in his sleep.
The largest champagne problem that you have, even if itâs actually between life and living said life in peace without minding your inevitable heartbreak, is worrying about Jungkookâs gift.
You hold your breath as soon as Hoseok gathers everyone into the living room, your nerves probably getting the best of you because you hear Jungkook hollering to whoeverâs closest to the thermostat to adjust it because your teeth kept chattering.
You have nothing to be nervous about, you convince yourself as Jungkook steps up into the middle and awaits with wide arms, your best friend being another victim of assuming that the comically large wrapped present is his (itâs not).
Jungkook doesnât have any expectations for you to meet, you convince yourself as he becomes even more hyper when he learns that itâs you, so much so that he takes a lap around the backyard with his hands clapping furiously.
You canât love Jungkook any more than you do now, you realize as you see Jungkook throw his head back in glee when he opens up your gift.
Itâs only a Himalayan salt lamp. Itâs only a lamp that you didnât buy for so much. Itâs only a thing that Jungkook said to you in passing one time, yet heâs beyond grateful â enough for him to carry you in his arms and take another lap around the backyard.
âGod, you love me soooo bad,â he lulls, teasing you mercilessly as he unceremoniously drops you so he could adore the lamp up close. âI always wanted to lick one!â
âYouâre so stupid,â you mutter, rolling your eyes at his excitement over something so simple; something so insignificant in the world of thoughtful, expensive gifts.
You affectionately think that Jungkookâs stupid, yet you canât tear your eyes away from him.
âI didnât hear a no,â Jungkook hums with his tongue out, eyes wide and flickering between you and the lamp. âShould I do it? Should I? Iâm doing-âŠ!â
You put a spoonful of cake into his mouth instead, the whine that escapes his throat still sounding like gratefulness to your ears.
Tonightâs not the night wherein you tell Jungkook how badly you want to be loved by him â not when heâs so preoccupied with his new salt lamp that he keeps daring people to take a lick of, not when heâs the one whoâs being convinced that thereâs a ghost in Namjoon's room and being bullied into sleeping in.
Not when Jungkookâs being the perfect, lovable friend that he is during the holidays and every other day.
( ⥠)Â
Youâre well-aware that Jungkookâs a catch.
You know that heâs a catch and heâll never live it down, and neither can you.
Youâre very painfully aware that Jungkookâs a catch because youâre reminded of it every single day whenever youâre with your friends. You know that atleast two of them were integrated into the group in the first place because they liked Jungkook, and that doesnât really bother you (more than it should, atleast) anymore.Â
Soraâs crush formed out of boredom on Jungkook disappeared as soon as she got a boyfriend, but you understand why her gaze lingered on him in the first place.
Eunjiâs crush on Jungkook already dissipated the moment she learned about his GPA, but you get why she had been attracted to his charm anyway.
You know that heâs a catch and that heâs not solely yours either, and the latter makes you humble.
âThereâs flowers on your desk again,â you point out, the arrangement irking you for more reasons than one. âWhy do you have to be so popular and handsome.. and lovable,â you mumble, the tail end of your mini rant barely being heard by Jungkook because he's too busy admiring his gift.
âWhatâs that now?â Jin piped up, eyebrows furrowed upon picking up your angry muttering. He's beyond confused, maybe just as much as you are, when you just snarl at him for his unintentional use of supersonic hearing.
âAnd why do I have to sit next to you even if I have allergies,â you redirect your attention to Jungkook who has to sweep the flowers to a beaten-up paper bag for safekeeping, the item in his backpack being the most used object for all of the admiration towards him.
âBecause youâre the best-est friend ever,â he rolls his eyes, the faux pout on his lips surprisingly softening you instead of the opposite. âAnd maybe Iâm the worst-est one to keep putting you through this.â
âYou sound so stupid,â you reply automatically, crossing your arms and keeping them there. âBut youâre right,â you exhale through your nose, conceding your defeat over willingly letting him put you through this, carrying the blame by yourself.
Jungkook doesnât only act like this with you anyway. Thereâs no special treatment, thereâs no false hopes being promised â itâs just you genuinely happening to fall for him.
âCome on, just tolerate it! Pinch your nose or something!â
âWhy should I? Find another seatmate,â you sulk, making a point to angle your back away from him and towards Jin whoâs at your right, doing his best at holding in a laugh over how ridiculous the both of you look.
âObviously youâre the one with the latest phone so you have to take pictures of me with the flowers!â Jungkook whines, punctuating his sentence with a hand on his hip. Heâs sulking because youâre sulking, and youâve never hated him more at the moment. âWhy else would I force you to sit with me?â
Jungkookâs stupid, and so are you, so youâd rather not tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him today.
( ⥠)Â
In all fairness, you thought you would lose nothing.
You thought you would lose nothing because in the first place, you barely expected anything out of Jungkook. Liking him didnât mean that you were indebted to him, and liking you back isnât something that he owed to you either.
You werenât expecting Jungkook to fall on his knees and say something stupid to hint at his mutual love for you (although you did think about it a couple of times), but you atleast expected a little bit of respect from him to try and see the strength it took you to even confess.
You planned it perfectly, even taking a page off his book and making a whole word document for it wherein you spent days typing whatever crossed your mind throughout the day and erasing what seemed the most impossible throughout the night.Â
In your word document, you and Jungkook would be out in the snow, skating in an outdoor rink even if neither of you know how to. You figure that you wonât attempt to drag (read: hobble with) him to the middle of the ice because in case he doesnât like you back, the waddle back to the exit wouldnât be as awkward; if Jungkook does like you back, youâll still be hobbling to the exit, albeit happily.
In your word document, thereâs a spine of a script that you would say when the day comes. Youâll skim along the lines of how youâve never been so enamored with someone in your entire life (with the internal note that youâll dial it back a bit if his expression turns sour), of how bright he makes your days for you, and how he doesnât have to be obligated to like you back.
In your word document, youâre set. Youâve planned a foolproof blueprint of what would turn out, whether or not Jungkook is set on loving you the way you desperately want to be â
Except now, Jungkook completely undoes everything youâve ever worked for.
Now, he looks at you with a glint in his eye that looks more apologetic than it is endearing. You donât even know what led to your heartbreak exactly because one minute, you were just studying, and by the next, Jungkookâs already letting you down even if you haven't had the chance to rise.
You swear on your life that you werenât giving any signals at all that you were actually about to confess. You were only silent, refusing to talk to him because you were too stressed over your task and that you were scared you would burst into tears if you tried mouthing the formula out loud, yet Jungkook mistakes it for your love.
Whatever you do on a daily basis, whatever you do based on your nature, Jungkook mistakes it for a confession that he wasnât even supposed to hear until the end of the week.
He wasnât wrong about the fact that you love him â what heâs wrong about is his assumption that your silence around him when itâs just the two of you, right now while you lose your mind over an assignment as youâre dressed in last weekâs sweater and last semesterâs horror, is your confession.
âIâm sorry, Y/N,â Jungkook winces, gently patting you on the shoulder as youâre yet to digest his rejection. âBut I just donât think weâll work out.â
( ⥠)Â
You theorized that getting over Jungkook would be fairly easy on the chance that he rejects you after your confession.
You figure that Jungkook himself as a concept would be drastically difficult to move on from because he was just so lovable. He doesnât know how to read a room and itâs one of his better quirks when youâre worrying over nothing. He doesnât know much about knowing when to let up, and it comes in clutch when heâs pushing you to wholeheartedly do an assignment even if youâre already burnt out from crying.
Jungkook, as a concept, is indestructible. Heâs the everyday variant of the goodness that some frat guys possess occasionally. Heâs the realistic, attainable version of a main lead in a manhwa thatâs only perfect 1/4 into the plot.Â
Heâs the manifestation of every good deed a stranger has done for you, except heâs someone you know with your heart and not just someone you could sketch from memory.Â
With that, you also figured that moving on from Jungkook canât be that hard because he was too out of reach despite being in the same friend group as you. Surely, it wouldnât be so catastrophically hard to move on from a guy who just gasps for air every five minutes when heâs in charge of cooking in the BBQ hangout (instead of using the exhaust like a normal person), or from a guy who thinks citing references for a paper is only a suggestion.
The funny thing about it all is that you never actually confessed to Jungkook.
Actually (and contrary to the assumptions of the other friends you have from your circle), youâve never said it to his face that you do have a crush on him. Youâre ultimately known to be the friendliest person to ever walk the campus, and while not the most confrontational, they atleast expected for you to confess to Jungkook in your own way.
What actually happened was that Jungkook read through you â he does happen to be right about your feelings for him! Heâs the second friendliest person right beneath you, and so the way he rejected you should never sting this much.
Jungkook thought it out meticulously. He read into the way you spent extra attention listening to him with your eyes practically gleaming. He read into the way youâd lag back behind him and hold him by his wrist whenever you were all crossing the street. Hell, he even read into the way you would take a shot at opening the extremely tight water bottle from the vending machine before everyone else.
The funny, tragic thing about it is that whilst Jungkook wasnât wrong about pinpointing your feelings for him â you never confessed.
Jeon Jungkook, the second, ultimate friendliest man that your university has ever known, rejected you without even hearing the actual words from you.
Heâs turned his back on you even before you could reach him, and the realization sinks in you unsettlingly. You never expected for him to like you back because it would be unfair of you, and you knew that; what just happened to hurt you most was that Jungkook didnât even think twice.
He hadnât given you the chance to pour your heart out at the very least.
He hadnât even given you the space to breathe right after the rejection, because he skips and puts a smile on before winking, telling you that heâll never speak of it again because you must probably be embarrassed.
The funniest thing about it all is that you arenât embarrassed â youâre actually devastated about it.
Itâs an odd event for Jungkook to feel lonely because with such a big friend group, he never thought heâd feel a little empty despite literally rubbing elbows in a circular table. He never thought heâd come to be a little annoyed at Jimin and his routine, playful, borderline offensive banter heâd always have with you at the top of the morning, and he never thought heâd even be more annoyed over the absence of it.
Thereâs one less laugh in the circle. One less bag strewn underneath the table, one less coffee order written on the notes app, and one less person to look for when hanging out.
Youâre missing from the friend group, and oddly enough, Jungkook seems to be the most devastated about it.
âWhy is Y/N not here?â he asks in the middle of Jin retelling his drunken fishing story, grabbing the attention of everyone in the table and maybe just about everyone elseâs in the common area with the way his voice is frantic. âAnd why is she there with the new kid instead?â
Everyone flits through separate conversations after Jungkookâs interruption, some even wincing to themselves because although they know about your admiration for the guy and not your confession-that-wasnât-one, they figure that nothing good could come out of Jungkook sucker-punching the new kid in his head.
âI donât know, man. Buddy system, maybe?â Jin shrugs, stealing his food because it was obvious that Jungkookâs attention is everywhere but himself and the table.
Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms tightly to the point that even he feels a little suffocated. His entire face is crumpled with hurt, eyebrows furrowed out of frustration when you still arenât looking at him; when youâre still not looking at him with confusion in your eyes, silently telling him off for glaring.
âBuddy system? Weâre in uni. Who the fuck would bully that guy?â
âBy the looks of it, probably you.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â he huffs, refusing to unclench his fists on his thighs.
âWell, whatâs it to you that Y/Nâs hanging out with someone new? What are you so heated for?â Jin elaborates, eyes flitting to you again.
Jungkook could only glare at you.
âWhat are you so nosy for?â he asks defensively, leaning back on his chair in a faux display of relaxation when all he wants to do is to remove the stupid smile on the guyâs face as he watches you talk.
Unlike Jungkook, Yoongiâs not stupid at all â in fact, heâs been vigilantly aware of Jungkookâs glare on the side of his face ever since you sat in front of him.
Yoongiâs not stupid, so he angles himself in a way that Jungkook gets to see him more. He doesnât know the guy personally, but he does know of him and his âcharmâ that seems to make everyone go nuts for him.Â
If looks could kill, then Yoongi wouldâve already had mourners at his feet, but if provocation could poison, then Jungkook would already be frothing at the mouth.
The thing is, Yoongi doesnât even know about your admiration nor your foiled confession to Jungkook. The latter hasnât even done anything personally to him.Â
All he knows is that youâre in a big friend group and that you chose to sit with him, your friend whom you share a couple of advanced classes with but not a friend-friend like Jungkook is, and that youâre very easy on the eyes and admirable yourself if he thinks about it (he doesnât need much time to ponder over it) â and, that he doesnât really like being glared at.
âNo really, I insist!â he laughs, pulling out a handwritten reviewer from his backpack with a grin. âI donât know anybody else who likes making reviewers anymore by hand, so really, youâre just perfect to get them.â
âBut you worked so hard on them,â you gasp, eyes already widening in both surprise and awe at the thick stack of papers in front of you. Yoongiâs handwriting and formatting are perfect; thereâs no unnecessary calligraphy, the vividness of the highlighter is just right, and thereâs even sticky notes at the bottom for additional details and references you could cross-check. âI.. I donât want you to feel that Iâm taking advantage-âŠâ
âBut I offered! You didnât ask for reviewers from me shamelessly like every other opportunist does,â Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back as he slides the papers closer to you. âIâd be a really shitty senior not to give you any help. If anything, I think you deserve even better than-âŠâ
Jungkook canât resist.
Jungkook canât take any more of watching you and Yoongi push and pull over whatever topic he canât hear nor force Jin to eavesdrop on. He canât take another second of seeing you be so happy talking to a guy that he doesnât know, so much so that he comes up to you without a second thought.
âHey,â he greets, his body only turned to you, completely ignoring Yoongi and blocking him off from your sight. âYou didnât order any coffee.â
You angle your body slightly to excuse yourself, except Jungkook conveniently happens to mirror your every move, confusing you even more. âOh, I wasnât feeling like it,â you trail, looking up at him in confusion while Yoongi could see right through him.
âReally?â Jungkook replies, the smile on his face being far from amused, eyes narrowed as he tries to catch up with the own annoyance that he harbors. âBecause Iâm seeing two coffees right now, and oneâs in front of you, soâŠâ he trails, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly.
Jungkookâs jaw is still clenched, along with his fists by his sides. Heâs standing tall between you and Yoongi with his shoulders squared and his face steeled, the immovable forces that are him and the unnamed pit in his stomach starting to garner attention.
Namjoon has his phone out.Â
Hoseok only has one cheek remaining on the seat because heâs ready to stand up and collect bets.Â
Youâre still sitting, mostly confused, when you realize the attention thatâs starting to build towards the three of you.
âYes, Jungkook. Great observation,â you snicker, the discreet roll of your eyes making him take offense.
âOh okay, I see. So you were lying by saying that you werenât feeling it, and I donât get the hold-up of you-âŠâ
âWhat did you come here for now, Jungkook?â you angrily whisper, keeping your head down as you retain your gaze on him and lightly tap at the table to indicate to Yoongi for the both of you to move. âItâs a little far-fetched for you to come all over here to pick a fight about coffee.â
Jungkook huffs, turning his head back to Yoongi behind him because he most definitely saw your signal. The lazy, amused gaze of Yoongi is what sets him off even further, the anger in his eyes unmistakable, except you recognize it for only what it is and not jealousy, because Jungkook doesnât see you like that.
Or atleast thatâs what the both of you assume.
Jungkook, your best friend, scoffs loudly.
âYou sound so defensive right now.â
( ⥠)Â
You donât respond much to Jungkookâs calls.Â
As a matter of fact, you donât respond much to Jungkook at all.
You donât show up whenever heâs present, meaning that youâre only magically available whenever thereâs half of your friend group at the most because if thereâs more, then the search for the missing members would ensue, then youâd end up squished in a long table next to Jungkook again.
Itâs very much like him to form grudges, yet he canât even tell if heâs capable of having one towards you. Jungkook, with all his chest and afflictions, wants so badly to hate you because youâve been blowing him off ever since he literally and physically came between you and Yoongi.
He apologized to you for that (and not to Yoongi because he didnât really matter to him at all), and he doesnât know the answer for it yet because his messages still remain unread. Heâs enlisted the help of your mutual friends on various occasions by trying to get them to give all his little treats for you, yet you refuse them as soon as you catch wind that itâs from Jungkook.
He even tried studying for real in the library in hopes that reverse psychology (he thinks thatâs what itâs called) would work and that thinking he doesnât want you to come would make you do the opposite, yet it still doesnât work. Jungkookâs already mad that he studied for nothing (heâs more interested in getting you to notice him than to actually learn), but he becomes even more heated to realize that your anger for him is just directed at him alone.
You still talk to your best friends, with the exception of him, and Jungkook has never been more envious of people who are apparently of the same status as him.
Jungkook wants you to drag him like you drag Sora to the nail salon and have you whisper at his ear to tell the nail tech not to cut your cuticles because youâve been afraid of getting them done since that 1/34th part of a medical drama episode you watched on your phone.
Jungkook wants you to complain to him like you complain to Namjoon when youâre frustrated with a professor whom youâre convinced is only critical to you and no one else, later making him promise not to tell anyone else from your friend group because they like said professor.
Jungkook wants you to run to him as you always did, just because you feel like it. He wants to sit in silence with you again and put his hand on your knee when youâre in the verge of tears just looking at your schedule for the week.
He wants to stand guard again outside the bathroom door of the expensive coffee shop because itâs either the lock is broken or because Namjoon's managed to instill in you the existence of ghosts in cold spots.
He wants to be the Jungkook like youâve always known, again, because it seems like youâve forgotten him completely. You have the Yoongi now, it seems like â the smarter, more composed, and more charismatic variant of him that he wants to get rid of because Jungkook never predicted the existence of him.
Even more, Jungkook didnât even entertain the concept of him being replaced because it was always the two of you together, even in a sea of friends.Â
Heâs your best friend, your confidant even, but nothing more â all Jungkook feels is that heâs even less than the status the both of you are assigned to be.Â
Heâs angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time because he thought he had almost lost you since he rejected your confession. You were fine; you were as fine as you could be for someone rejected when it comes to yearning to be his, and yet the moment you let Yoongi in, Jungkook feels as if you threw everything the both of you had just for him.
âJust so you know, student-teacher relationships are illegal,â he corners you one morning in your dorm, two godforsaken weeks after chasing you around the campus yet turning up empty.
âWhat the fuck are you on about?â you immediately scrunch your nose at him, the accusation he throws at you being too farfetched to the point that you donât even think of shutting the door at him, ignoring Eunjiâs betrayal for you by pretending to come over.
âWhat am I on about?â Jungkook exasperates, the scoff that leaves him making you feel small in front of him. âYouâre literally the one whoâs getting chummy with fucking Yoongi of all people!"
"Yoongi's a teaching assistant! He's our senior! Do you not know that?"
"Do I look like I'm interested in any other people outside of our circle?" he retorts, lips turned up in a snarl. Jungkook provokes you with a sarcastic glare, the look on his face enough to make you throw your head back in irritation.
"Come on, even Jin and Jimin are friends with Yoongi and-..."
"This is not about them!"Â
"But you just-..." you stop as soon Jungkook interrupts you, losing your gaze on him for a single second to close your door and when you look back, you find that heâs already comfortable being vindictive on your bed, his arms crossed and his back straight.
"Also, teacher and teaching assistant both have the word teach so it's literally still illegal," he narrows his eyes sarcastically, the tone to his voice unclear despite his words suggesting otherwise. "You look so stupid right now."
"Jungkook can you stop?!" you burst, your temples stinging at the back and forth that Jungkookâs thrown the both of you in. âWhat the hell is going on with you?"
Jungkook had sworn to himself up and down that he has so much stuff to pick with you. He knows he has so much baggage to unpack and how much shit he has to bring up, even if itâs only been two weeks with you. Heâs partly relieved that youâre in front of him and you still havenât fled, yet a large part of him is beyond frustrated with you because you donât even look like as if your time apart has taken a toll on you.
Between the two of you, itâs only Jungkook who looks like his distraught has manned him completely beyond surrender. Even coming to see you by hatching a plan with a hesitant friend is something he considers an act beyond surrender â whatever the space is between surrender and demand is where Jungkook lies with you.
"No, what's going on with you!â he argues, standing to his feet to come face-to-face with you. âYou can't just spin this around when I've done nothing but be a good friend to you!"
"You think I'm not being a good friend to you just because I don't spend every single minute attached to you? I can still hang out outside of our friend group without being-..."
"This is not about our friend group!" Jungkook emphasizes once again, the tell-tale sting of tears behind his eyes coming up because he feels as if you canât hear him no matter how much he repeats himself. âThis is about us and how you abandoned me ever since I rejected you!"
"I didn't abandon you, Jungkook!" you spit, pushing at his chest lightly with your finger to get him to back up from your face yet he refuses to. Heâs still insistent at staring you down with his jaw clenched, eyes wide and unblinking because he knows that if he moves even just a millimeter askew, heâd cry. âYou didn't even give me the chance to confess to you! You rejected me without even hearing me out. Do you think I would still be able to talk to you, face to face like how you want so badly, as if nothing happened?"
"The answer would've been the same even if you confessed,â he grits with his chest heavy, not at the way he keeps holding his breath in order not to break down in front of you, but because you look at him with so much disdain that it makes him want to puke.
"Do you not think I know that?" you laugh humorlessly, gnawing on your bottom lip as you donât drop his gaze. âDo you think I didn't prepare for that possibility? I knew what could've happened if I confessed and I'd still be okay with it, Jungkook!" you raise your voice, throat already giving out at the slightest pressure because you know you lost the fight ever since you let him in. "What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.â
Itâs evil, really, with the way no amount of self-pity could ever pull you from the grave youâve dug up. You went for Jungkook, carrying all grief you knew you were bound to feel, and yet you still feel unprepared. You still feel unworthy even moping for someone like Jungkook because not even his rejection, nor anyone elseâs acceptance of your admiration by some sort of miracle, is enough to make you feel like youâd be missed.
Your two weeks without Jungkook is your rehearsal for the two months, then two years, then two forevers eventually without him by your side. You had still been able to live by yourself and with your friends, excluding him, and you thought you were fine because it feels as if nothing had changed.
You thought you were fine until Jungkook gets in your face to tell you that itâs not, and all over again, youâre reminded of how desperately you want to be loved by him to the point that youâd rather drown in your own pity to try and preserve whateverâs left of you.
"I told you the answer would-..."
"Shut up!" you cry, steeling your nerves when you realize that Jungkookâs angrily crying in front of you, wiping at his eyes hastily. âFor the love of god, shut up!"
Jungkook stays quiet, not because you told him to, but because nothing good comes to mind when he realizes that youâre crying because of him.
"See? You don't even get where I'm coming from because you're not even giving me the chance to explain myself without making it all about you,â you sob, finally pushing him away, to which he lets you. "That's the problem with you, Jungkook. You're too self-involved."
"Not true," Jungkook whispers, shaking his head earnestly even if he feels the stupidest he has ever did in his life in front of you.
He follows your steps out of routine even if his brain had convinced his system that he hates you just seconds ago, arms instinctively trying to crowd you when you almost trip on the flooring on your way to the coat rack.
"Since you keep insisting that I abandoned you," you chuckle dryly before grabbing your jacket, turning your back on Jungkook and on your own space, which had just been the default hangout place of the both of you for the longest time, in pursuit of your own quiet without him. "Let me follow through."
Jungkook doesnât want to tell you how desperately he wants you to want him again, to love him as you already did, and neither do you.
( ⥠)Â
The perks of having a big friend group is that the absence of several members wouldnât make that much of a difference when it comes to hanging out. It would still sustain itself without a few extra voices joining in on the chatter watching movies and the bullying when it comes to a forgotten birthday greeting here and there.
The downside of being in one, is that said big friend group doesnât matter at all to Jungkook when youâre not in it.
The lengths that your friend (read: a word that Jungkookâs come to abhor) has went through since your fight at your dorm are basically incomprehensible because heâs fully involved himself.
Heâs pining after you pathetically, just like how you had always dreamed of, yet seeing him take turn after turn just trying to gain your forgiveness for something youâve always pitied yourself for makes you feel guilty.
In Jungkookâs defense, he wants to be forgiven and loved (again) as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Not only is he pathetic in the sense that heâs hopeless, but also pathetic in the light that he wants the entirety of you (stubbornness and occasional sharpness included) to rub off on him.
âI know Iâm stupid. I-I.. I know that I was unfair for not even letting you confess your feelings because I felt like dying when you started to ignore me,â he mumbles to your bedsheets, his legs crossed on the ground and his head muffled by the fabric because he doesnât even want to sit next to you in fear of you revoking his chance to apologize in person, again, as if thatâs not what he had been doing the past weeks. âY/N, you donât deserve someone as stupid as me and I hate it so, so bad.â
The sound of Jungkook apologizing to you has already been repeated enough to the point youâve learned when to tune him out, but with the way his heart precedes his tone this time, you stop folding your clothes in favor of Jungkook whoâs just two seconds away from passing out on your bed by fabric conditioner-bathed quilt-induced suffocation, to which he couldnât pass up on because it was your scent and he missed hugging you.
âI canât catch up with you on anything that youâre talking about with Yoongi. The only times I open a book are when I want to look at you but I donât want you to see me. I canâtâ I can barely even talk to you without feeling like Iâm beneath you,â he admits lowly, the truth of his rejection finally springing up a little too much, and almost a little too late. âI thought, stupidly, that we wouldnât work because you deserve someone better.â
âI donât need you to catch up with me, Jungkook,â you murmur, lightly slapping his cheeks because he looks sleepy from all the sniffing heâs done on your quilt, but really, his eyes are only narrowed into slits because he feels like heâs about to cry. Again.
âBut I need to, b-because when we run out of things to talk about that youâre willingly to dumb down to my level, what else could we catch up on?âÂ
âYouâre not stupid. I just say-âŠâ
âNo. Donât make excuses for me,â he laughs lightly, still sat on your carpet obediently like a dog because he doesnât want to push your boundaries. âIâm beneath you and I didnât want to drag you down with me because I.. I didnât feel that you deserve me,â he confesses. âBut I want you so badly, Y/N. You have no idea.â
Jungkook wants you so badly, that in your insistence of self-pity, it was his self-preservation that led him to cry by himself when you finally left the library after not-confessing to him.
He wants you so badly, that in his fit of self-preservation disguised into stubbornness, he had tamped down his desperation for you.
âI want to catch up with you, not you to slow down for me,â Jungkook rests his chin on your thigh, his wide, pleading eyes looking up at you. âIâm so sorry, my baby. Iâm so, so, so sorry for being stupid enough to let you go the first time,â he tilts his head, resting his cheek on your awaiting hand. âPlease. Iâm just begging you to slow down for me this one time,â Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, nudging your hand gently with his cheek. âPlease let me look stupid trying to earn you.â
Jungkook, without fail, tells you how desperately he wants to be loved by you.
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