#my favorite long lanky man

[mizgnomer]

David Tennant’s wide stance - Part Five

Links to Parts [ One ] [ Two ] [ Three ] [ Four ]

...with a special addition as shared by Georgia Tennant:

[pepperyduck]

a/n: nsfw, written with chubby fem reader in mind. 18+ mdni.

to my loves in america: make sure you go and vote!!! you can still register in some states, and some of those allow u to register in person on the 5th. go vote!!

satoru’s hands are big.

he’s lanky and his limbs are too long—but the man takes utmost pride in how large his hands are, how long his fingers extend.

and he adores how easily his hands engulf the different parts of your body.

no matter how big your own hands are, his are bigger. when you press your palms together to measure the difference in size, your fingers only come up halfway to his. he loves holding your hand, or, hands.

satoru’s one hand can effortlessly hold both of yours together, his thumb and pointer finger can wrap around your wrist with no difficulty. it especially comes in handy when he pins you down to the bed and doesn’t allow you to move; his one hand holds your wrists above your head while the other grips your waist, the plush fat under your skin bulging out between his fingers.

he can use one hand to hold your legs together behind the knees and push them up while he fucks into you, every so often leaning them to the side to get a view of your embarrassed, nervous expression. usually like this, his free hand will tangle with yours, his fingers intertwined between your shaky knuckles.

when satoru has you on all fours—or more like, just your knees with your face and arms pushed into the bed—he likes to hold your waist from behind. his thumbs touch together in the middle of your back while the rest of his digits sprawl out to wrap around the small of your midsection. the more he goes on, the tighter his grip gets, consequently leaving bruises you can feel for a few hours.

he’ll wrap his hand around your pretty neck, not in a choking manner, but just to see how you melt into that small touch when he pulls you in by the throat for a kiss. and when he does try to choke you, you swear his fingers can meet around the back of your neck.

when he sleeps next to you, his hands find a natural position; one atop your tummy, his other arm laid under you and his hand on your hip.

and speaking of hips, satoru is particularly fond of the curve of your hips, he enjoys resting his hand on your hip when you walk together.

but satoru’s favorite thing to do with his hands is hold the sides of your face, and pull you in for a kiss. his index fingers rest above your ears, his middles under them, while his ring and pinky fingers curl under your jawline. his thumbs gently stroke your cheeks and he’ll smile at you, so kindly before leaning in to plant the quickest, yet most intimate kiss on your lips.

so yes, satoru’s hands are huge—but it’s arguably one of his, and your, favorite traits about him.

[mandarinmoons]

Hello, how about Spencer with an outdoorsy reader. She is always on hikes and goes on long backpacking trips when he’s out of town for a case. Mostly because Spencer isn’t the hiking type.

Anyways what if when she’s just on a day trip while he’s working a local case and she finds a body. She calls him immediately and that’s when the team discovers Spencer has a girlfriend and she’s not what they expected.

I love this idea! x

The morning sun shone through the window as you were sitting by the kitchen table, admiring the dew drops on the glass and the gentle sound of the birds singing outside. It looked to be a perfect morning and with the air feeling so crisp and fresh, you were excited to go on the small hike you had been planning for the past few weeks. Work had been hectic and a little retreat to one of your favorite places was just what you needed.

After getting dressed, filling your water bottle and packing some snacks you took off to your destination. You thought about getting your boyfriend Spencer to tag along with you, but knowing how that went down last time, and that he was working, you had to enjoy the trails all by yourself this time.

“Spence, c’mon! We’re nearly there!”

You looked behind your shoulder to see how far behind Spencer was. You stopped and waited for a minute before you saw the lanky man in your view, breathing heavily and holding tightly onto the straps of his backpack.

“Hold on for a moment. I gotta…”

Spencer leans against the side of a tree, his face red and sweaty, even if he regularly chases down unsubs he’s clearly not used to hiking down these long trails.

Walking beside him, you offered your water to him, which he downed nearly half of it.

“How do you do this every week?”

“Practice my love, it takes practice.”

Chuckling to yourself at the memory, you walked ahead and took your time to admire the scenery around you.

It was nearing the end of summer and the leaves had already started to change colors and fall away from their branches, leaving them bare and withered.

Taking a few steps away from the route, you headed down your usual secret path to a small cliff that showed off a beautiful view to the town, a scene you were almost sure only you knew about.

Carefully making your way up the hill, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what seemed to be a shoe sticking out from the side of a bush.

Don’t let this be what I think it is

You were reminded of the case Spencer was working on and the details he shared with you flashed through your mind.

“Women in their late twenties to early thirties have been found dead in secluded areas, out in the woods and paths.”

You knew that with dating an FBI agent there was bound to be a moment where his work would entangle with your life, but you never expected it to happen in this way.

Slowly walking over to the foliage, your worst fears were brought to life when you saw a hand peek through the branches, covered in a crimson sheen, which was undoubtedly blood.

Trying to control your breathing, you pulled out your phone and dialed Spencer’s number. When the call connected through, your tongue went numb and you tried to figure out a way to explain your situation, which seemed impossible.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here.”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“No… no, Spencer I’m not-”, your breathing picked up and your head started to spin. You sat down on the ground to try and ground yourself a bit, breathing in and out through your nose to fight off the dizziness.

“Y/N, where are you?”

“I’m on the trail… Spencer, I think I found a body.”

-

The blinking lights on the police cars blinded you as you watched by the sidelines, a detective questioning you about how you made your discovery.

The longer you were questioned the more you felt the energy leave your being. Spencer took notice in your demeanor and quickly pulled you to his side as soon as the last of the questions were answered.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Spencer nodded and ran his palms over your arms, you weren’t cold and yet you weren’t able to stop shaking the entirety of the time you were interviewed.

“They’re about to wrap up the body and then we can go home, okay?”

Nodding as a response, Spencer guided you along to the car and let you be by yourself for a moment while he talked over details with his team.

Nearing his team mates, the last thing Spencer expected to see was a grin on some people’s faces.

“So, you and nature girl, huh?”

Derek was always one to make a quip over Spencer, which he didn’t mind, but regarding how everyone found out about this during such grim circumstances, now wasn’t the best time for jokes.

During the time Spencer was away, you managed to get comfy enough to close your eyes and get some snooze, but that was cut short by the engine being turned on and your seatbelt being clicked on.

“It’s okay, we’re going home.”

The car ride home was silent. Spencer would occasionally ask what you’d want when you arrived, but you didn’t have the energy to reply to him and simply replied back with either a nod or shake of your head.

You hadn’t felt this drained in a while. When arriving home you didn’t even have the energy to step out of the car and Spencer made his way to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside.

Inside the house, Spencer crouched down and took off your shoes for you, you looked down on him as his hands carefully undid the laces and slipped the shoes off, the gentleness making your heart clench.

“I’ll go make you some tea and we’ll lie down for a bit, how does that sound?”

Spencer looked up and his eyes met your glassy ones, tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“Oh honey,” standing up and taking you into his embrace, the tears took over and spilled over your cheeks as the distraught you faced today could no longer be hidden.

“How can anyone be that cruel?”

“I don’t know, angel.”

But that was a lie, Spencer did know how someone could be that cruel. In fact, he could list out the exact chemical reactions that needed to happen in someone’s brain in order for someone to behave in such an animalistic way, but he knew not to speak of them, at least not in this moment, because ignorance was bliss, and he did not want the only innocent miracle in his life to be tainted with the sorrows of his job, or should he say his primary life.

Taglist: @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream @kers505 @dan-the-womans-blog

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[babsworlds]

WEIRD, OLDER & ATTRACTIVE.

pairing. Sergei Kravinoff x fem! reader

synopsis. You finally meet your best friend’s brother.

warnings. platonic! Dmitri Kravinoff x fem! reader, mention of age gap, nothing more ig?

a/n: as a starting writer thank you for all the support! I still don’t really know how tumblr works so please have a patience with me! If you have some requests, message me or comment! ily all 🤍

YOU AND YOUR BEST FRIEND DMITRI were the definition of rich, spoiled children of Russian gangsters.

You met Dmitri at the prestigious private school you both attended. Being in the same year, you quickly became inseparable. Rumors of you two dating spread around the school, but you both knew it was just your shared humor and love for the same things, especially the money of your wealthy fathers, that brought you together.

You didn’t care about their jobs as long as you got what you wanted. Lavish parties, extravagant shopping sprees, and exclusive getaways were just part of your everyday life.

You and Dmitri often teased each other with flirtatious jokes, but it was always clear that it was all for fun and not serious. Neither for you took it to heart.

It was Dmitri's birthday today, and you celebrated it in your favorite club, a place reserved only for exclusive and loyal members.

After Dmitri blew out the candles on his white sparkled cake and opened his gifts, the real celebration began. Among the presents, he received a Cartier bracelet to match yours, and hand made photos album of you two, capturing your most cherished memories together.

You and Dmitri danced to the rhythm of the music, dangerously close, but it didn't bother you. You were used to that.

You truly enjoyed yourself, lost in the music and the laughter. But suddenly, a strange feeling washed over you, as if someone was watching. You glanced around the club, trying to spot the source of this unsettling sensation.

Dmitri pulled you closer, his face full of concern. "What's wrong, Y/n?" he asked, noticing your discomfort.

"Nothing," you shrugged, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. You continued dancing, but couldn't help but periodically scan the crowd, searching for the eyes you felt upon you.

Suddenly, you spot him—a tall, incredibly handsome man with curly hair, standing by the door. His intense gaze was focused solely on you, making you feel a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

“Dima, who’s that weirdly sexy man by the door?” you asked as he spun you around, directing your look towards the door.

“That’s Sergei. My brother,” he said calmly, his expression unreadable. Your eyes widened in surprise. You knew Dmitri had a brother, but you’d only seen photos of them when they were younger, and you heard that Sergei lived isolated from the family.

“No way that’s Sergei?” you exclaimed, still in disbelief. The Sergei you remembered from the photos was a lanky teenager with a mischievous grin, nothing like the imposing figure standing before you now.

Dmitri nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s back in town.”

Your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't help but steal another glance at Sergei. He looked even more striking in person, his curly hair framing a chiseled jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him earlier? He’s hella sexy,” you exclaimed, alternating glances between Dmitri next to you and Sergei across the room.

“He’s like... much older than you,” Dmitri said, raising an eyebrow. You always preferred older men for many reasons.

“Not so much,” you rolled your eyes. “And you know I’m kinda into these things.” You gave Dmitri a pointed look as he rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately,” Dmitri muttered, recalling the time you had a serious crush on your history teacher.

Your eyes locked with Sergei's across the room. There was something undeniably charming about him, but also a hint of danger that both intrigued and unsettled you. Maybe that was what pulled you closer.

“Can you maybe introduce me to him?” you smirked, playfully swirling a strand of your hair around your finger and biting your lip as a joke.

“Ugh,” Dmitri groaned with a smile, taking you by the wrist and dragging you through the crowd towards Sergei. As you got closer, the intensity of Sergei's gaze never wavered, making your heart beat just a little faster.

“Bro,” Dmitri blurted out, “Y/n here finds you very attractive,” putting an exaggerated emphasis on the word very. You mentally facepalmed—idiot, idiot, idiot, you thought. Dmitri wasn't exactly known for his tactfulness.

Embarrassed, you hid your face in your palms, taking a deep breath before looking up at Sergei, who was smiling, clearly amused by the situation.

“Well, thank you,” Sergei said with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Y/n. Dima has told me a lot about you.”

You found it really sweet that Dmitri mentioned you to him. It felt nice knowing that your friendship with Dmitri was something he valued enough to share with his brother.

“So, what brings you back?” you asked, genuinely curious about Sergei’s return.

“I’ve been traveling and working abroad for a while, but I thought it was time to reconnect with family,” Sergei replied, his eyes briefly flickering to Dmitri before returning to you. “And to see what my little brother has been up to.”

As you continued to converse with Sergei, you found yourself eagerly anticipating the possibility of another meeting.

At first sight, Sergei was everything you wanted and liked. He had that intriguing mix of being a bit weird, older, and attractive. The way he spoke with his Russian accent, combined with his looks and maturity, undeniably turned you on.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement every time he smiled or laughed. His deep voice, accentuated by that charming accent, sent shivers down your spine. And the way he carried himself, with confidence and grace, made him even more irresistible.

It was almost surreal—you were losing yourself over your best friend's older brother, someone you were meeting for the first time. You found it hard to believe how quickly you were drawn to him, but there was no denying the strong attraction you felt.

As you stood there, talking to Sergei, you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to spend more time with him.

“I think I’m gonna get some drinks,” Dmitri said, giving you a playful and knowing smirk before leaving. You rolled your eyes but deep down you were really thankful for the brief moment of privacy.

As soon as his brother left, Sergei wasted no time. “I really find you interesting,” he said, his eyes traveling over your body with a barely controlled intensity. It was clear that he meant more than just “interesting,” but the subtext added to the thrill of the moment.

It was your first meeting, yet the connection felt immediate and really strong.

You smiled, trying to keep things light. “Thanks, you aren’t really boring either.”

Sergei’s expression grew serious, his eyes locking onto yours. “Don’t mind me asking this,” he began, hesitating for just a moment. “Maybe we should meet again,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of hopefulness.

A smile spread across your face. He was asking you on a date, and you definitely didn’t mind that. “I’d like that,” you replied, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

You expected everything from this night—a fun celebration, dancing, and spending time with friends—but definitely not meeting Dmitri’s brother and being asked out the same night.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

more than i can handle

pairing: wonwoo x seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, poly!au, non-idol!au - minors dni.

warnings: dirty talk, dildo play, heavy degradation (whore, slut etc), use of petnames (sunshine, princess, baby boy, pretty boy), dom!wonwoo, switch!reader, sub!seungcheol, kissing, makeout session, anal sex, oral sex (m rec), heavy mxm action, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), creampies, voyeurism, masturbation, hair pulling, sir kink, ass slapping, aftercare

word count: 5,517

summary: the abundance of snow outside won't stop you and wonwoo from restocking your fridge. and it certainly won't stop seungcheol from getting what he wants from his girlfriend and boyfriend - their undivided attention.

Disclaimer: Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo are depicted as bisexual in the fic, which is used only for the purposes of fanfiction and it is not an assumption of the members' sexual orientation in real life. If you're not comfortable with these themes, then this fic isn't for you.

Author's note: your favorite poly is back and better than ever hehe - big thanks to @wongyuseokie, @gyuwoncheol, @highvern, @ourdawnishotterthanourday and @wonuvs for beta reading this fic!

p.s.: if you read about snow and holidays pls ignore, it was in the works since december😭

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.

“...Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate the understanding. Have a nice day.”

Wonwoo ends the phone call with a satisfied hum and he slouches back on his chair, returning to his work at hand.

“So, what’s the verdict?” You ask him, sitting on your own chair.

“Work from home. There was absolutely no way I’d be able to move the car with so much snow outside.” Wonwoo replies.

“Does that mean we get to be with you all day long?” 

“That’s right, sunshine.” He smiles sweetly and you get up and hug him excitedly, pressing your lips on his cheek.

“What’s the plan for today? Aside from working, of course.” 

“I was thinking of just being cozy with the two of you, y’know? Like those cliché Pinterest aesthetic winter routines.”

“I thought you weren’t the hot cocoa type.” You raise your brow playfully as you go back to your laptop.

“Just because I’m a coffee addict doesn’t mean I hate everything else.” Wonwoo defends himself while fixing his glasses.

“Well you definitely hate my protein shakes!” Seungcheol butts into the conversation from afar.

“That’s because your protein shakes are atrocious.” Wonwoo deadpans, “No sane person puts chicken breast in a glass.”

“Ew, that does sound atrocious.” You grimace in disgust.

“This is why you’re still lanky and not buff, Jeon.” Seungcheol scoffs as he downs the rest of his shake. 

“Maybe not everyone wants to be a muscle monster like you, Choi.” The younger man sighs and goes back to his task at hand.

“Oh wow, thanks for paying so much attention to me.” 

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Cheollie. He has a lot of work to do, despite staying home.” You try to reassure your other boyfriend.

“Does that mean you’re willing to make up for lost attention?”

“I’m sorry, but I need to catch up with my assignments….” You rub the back of your head apologetically.

“In the middle of the holidays?!” Seungcheol looks at you baffled.

“But my exams start two weeks after the holiday break! There’s not a lot, I promise.” You cup his cheeks.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes at you with a huff.

You watch him walk towards the bedroom with heavy steps and guilt settles in your gut.

“I think I was insensitive…” You plop down on the armchair.

“No, he’s being dramatic.” Wonwoo replies without breaking contact with his computer screen.

“But he got a leave from his job just to spend it with us and we’re ignoring him!” 

“Y/N, he’s doing it on purpose.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Wait a couple of minutes and you’ll see.” 

You look at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression and return to your laptop.

Shortly after, you notice Seungcheol coming into the living room, clad in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tight muscle tee. He’s sporting his earphones, as if he was going to the gym for his daily work out session.

Except he starts working out right in the middle of the room, without giving a single fuck.

He starts by stretching out his legs and arms and then proceeds to put music in his ears, switching into the more intense part of his workout. It doesn’t take long for him to start grunting and moaning as he does series after series of exercises, the sweat accumulated on his body staining the fabric of his muscle tee.

“Cheollie?” You peek your head from behind your laptop. “Do you need some water?”

“No worries, princess. I don’t want to distract you from your assignment.” He gives you a quick peck on the corner of your lips.

In true Choi Seungcheol fashion, he does his best to actually distract you from your work by taking off his muscle tee and continuing his work out shirtless.

Wonwoo turns around and takes a look at his boyfriend, mouthing a “told you so” when he turns his gaze to you.

It takes all of his willpower to not bodyslam Seungcheol on the floor and fuck the living daylights out of him with the grunts and moans he’s letting out. He swears there’s a tent forming in his black sweats and he’s quite certain there will be wet spots on the fabric pretty soon. He puts on his noise canceling headphones to focus on his work and get it done as soon as possible.

You, on the other hand, are the epitome of distractedness and all you’ve written in your essay is utter gibberish, rubbing your thighs together to provide some relief to your aching core. Right now, all you can think of is being underneath Seungcheol and getting fucked into next week.

You get up from the couch and walk over to the fridge to grab some ice cold water. As soon as you open it, your eyes widen in horror when you see the lack of basic groceries and dairy products.

“Um, guys? We have a problem.” You shout at them, but none of them lift their heads.

You get back to them and tap their shoulders to get their attention. 

“What’s up, princess?” Seungcheol removes his earbuds and pushes his hair back.

“Our fridge is empty. Like, the basics are missing.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He rubs his palms over his face.

“Are the stores even open right now?” Wonwoo asks.

“It has stopped snowing for now and there are probably tons of people who didn’t anticipate this weather. Some stores have to be open, even for emergency situations!” You rest your hands on your waist.

“Give me a second.” Wonwoo goes back to his laptop and with a few rapid clicks on his keyboard, he searches for nearby stores.

“There is one, about six hundred meters away from here.” He turns his screen to the both of you to see.

“It won’t be an ordeal to get there. All we need is sturdy shoes and warm clothes.” You shrug and move towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks you.

“To get dressed and go get groceries. The fridge won’t get full on its own.”

“Hold on , I’m coming with you.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.” Wonwoo gets up.

“I thought you were really fucking busy with work?” The blond man asks with irony laced in his words.

“I still am, but if you go out all sweaty, you’ll be bedridden for the rest of the holidays and none of us want that.”

“You’re not my mom, Wonwoo.”

“No, but I’m your boyfriend and I still care about your health. Now please go take a fucking shower, you’re all sweaty and gross.” He walks past the shirtless man, but Seungcheol stops him by putting his hand on Wonwoo’s chest.

“You better not think I haven’t noticed that little tent of yours, pretty boy. Two people can play a game.” 

“Too bad there’s three of us in this relationship. And I won’t be the outnumbered one.” Wonwoo bites back and pushes his arm away to join you in the bedroom.

Seungcheol scoffs and pokes his cheek with his tongue. 

Fine by me, he thinks, already thinking of the next step he’s gonna take.

A few minutes later, you and Wonwoo leave the apartment to go buy the much needed groceries and Seungcheol is left alone, an almost childish grin plastered all over his face.

He skips over to the bathroom, stripping himself naked and throwing the dirty clothes in the laundry basket. He jumps in the shower and lets the warm water run over his body, washing away the sweat from his work out session. He pours a generous amount of shower gel over his body and spreads it thoroughly over his skin, the cherry scent enveloping the small room. Even if the shower itself is relaxing, Seungcheol himself is way too worked up -  and it’s not just because of the post workout adrenaline. The blatant ignorance he experiences from you and Wonwoo annoys him and turns him on to the point of lunacy. 

He washes the suds from his hands and brings two fingers in his mouth, spitting on them and rubbing them over the rim of his ass experimentally.

He moans heavily when he pushes the fingers inside, cock twitching with need. He puts his free hand on the wall of the shower to support himself while stretching out his hole. He works his thick digits in and out of his ass, eyes scrunched shut and thighs flexing with each thrust. Every time he bites his bottom lip to suppress his moans, he fails miserably and moans even louder - he’s home alone, after all.

His cock is rock hard by now, the tip flushed an angry red and veins bulging over his shaft. He can almost feel the precum starting to build up and ready to leak all over, but he doesn’t want to cum yet and definitely not like this. He removes his fingers from his ass, satisfied with the stretch and washes away the rest of the suds, turning off the shower.

He fastens his bathrobe around his waist and goes into the bedroom, opening his side of the closet to search for his sex toy stash. He giggles when he finds the familiar box and opens it hastily, taking out his favorite knotted dildo. He grabs the lube from the nightstand drawer and looks around the bedroom to see where he’ll place the toy.

His gaze falls on the full bodied mirror next to the closet and an idea pops up in his head as he fiddles with the dildo in his hands. He removes his bathrobe and throws it on the bed, walking to the living room to get his phone. Once he returns to the bedroom, he kneels in front of the mirror and grabs his cock, slowly pumping it with his fist. He pulls up the phone camera and snaps a handful of pictures, flexing his biceps and thighs on purpose to make them look even more attractive.

“Damn, I don’t even have to filter them.” He checks them one by one, absolutely satisfied with the results.

He sends them to the group chat with a quick text, waiting for the two of you to open them and lose your minds. 

“Are we missing anything else?” Wonwoo asks you while pushing the shopping cart down the aisle.

“Maybe some bathroom supplies? Just to be sure, in case it snows again.” 

“I swear, if it weren’t for you, we would have died a long time ago.” Your boyfriend applauds you for your organizing skills.

Both of your phones go off at the same time and you fish your phone out of the pocket of your parka.

“What’s up?” He asks you while putting two ramen cups in the cart.

“Cheol texted the group chat.”

“He probably wants us to buy chicken breast for his godforsaken shakes.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

You open the messaging app and you let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth after being heard by other customers, instantly closing the screen of your phone.

“What happened, sunshine?” The tall man asks you with worry written all over his face.

“Um….How do I put this….” You scratch your heated cheek.

“Y/N, what did he send you?”

“See for yourself.” You point to his pocket and Wonwoo impatiently unlocks his phone

He clenches his jaw tight when he opens Seungcheol’s messages, the previous hard-on he was sporting now threatening to get bigger.

cheollie has sent three photos.

cheollie: it could be your hands but you’re working instead

“This motherfucker.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue and types back a quick reply. He puts his phone back in his pocket and pushes the cart towards the cashiers with quicker steps.

“Hey, what about the rest of the supplies?!” You tug at the sleeve of his parka.

“We’ll get them, sunshine. We just need to be quick about it.” He almost grits his teeth.

“You’re not the only one who’s hot and bothered because of Seungcheol.” You step in front of the cart.

“So you admit that you were having a hard time with your essay.”

“I never said I didn’t! Do you know how difficult it was to type on my laptop while he was groaning and moaning-”

“Like a bitch in heat?” Wonwoo completes your sentence with a lopsided smirk.

“Exactly! And he looks so beefy and thick and-”

“And unbearably hot, yeah I know. And God, it drives me insane.” He lets out a shaky breath.

“Wonu?” You ask him with a lowered voice.

“Yes?”

“Can we get out of here? Like, real soon?”

“I thought you wanted to shop some more stuff?” Wonwoo chuckles at your sudden burst of impatience.

“I still do, but I also have a hot boyfriend at home who could be doing God knows what.” 

“Your other boyfriend is still here with you, though.” He pushes his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“My other boyfriend wants to fuck the boyfriend at home too.” You grin and pull on the other end of the cart. “Come on, time is of the essence.”

As soon as you step foot into the apartment, you are greeted by absolute silence. You opt to call out Seungcheol’s name, but Wonwoo covers your mouth with his hand. He tells you to keep quiet by mouthing the words. He nods towards the fridge and you take off your shoes, tiptoeing your way to the kitchen and place the bags on the counter as stealthily as possible. He takes off his shoes and parka, taking careful steps towards the bedroom.

The closer he gets, the louder he can hear noises coming from the secluded space. He notices the door being cracked open just enough to get a good view of what is happening inside and he takes the initiative of pushing it wide open to rest his body on the door frame and watch the show in front of him.

Seungcheol is bouncing his ass on the knotted dildo like his life depends on it, the muscles on his thighs and back rippling with every motion. His moans are airy, almost whiny and it makes Wonwoo’s cock drip in his boxers, his self control starting to run thin. 

A small creaking noise on the doorframe alerts Seungcheol and he turns his head around, scanning his boyfriend up and down.

“Oh, don’t mind me, you can keep going.” Wonwoo waves his hand in dismissal.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping for your sake.” Seungcheol scoffs and keeps fucking himself on the toy, as if the younger man doesn’t exist in the room.

“If you want to grab my attention for real, you can try taking the knot in your ass and stay there.” 

“Are you challenging me?”

“You’re the one who said your ass can handle a lot.”

“Hmph. Whatever.” Seungcheol scoffs as lifts himself off the dildo to grab the lube and pour some more over the toy, climbing back on it again to ease himself on the bulbous knot. 

The initial stretch is always intimidating, but as soon as the knot disappears inside him, his body shudders and his nails scratch the wooden floor, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

He wants to move so bad, so fucking bad-

“Don’t you dare move.” Wonwoo’s voice is rough and demanding.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” The blond man bites back and raises his hips ever so slightly, never breaking eye contact with his boyfriend.

“I don’t think you want to do this. Am I right, baby boy?”

Seungcheol freezes in his spot, thighs going weak at the pet name. His mouth quivers, the knot stretching him open and he struggles to keep himself in check.

Wonwoo walks with slow steps towards his boyfriend, kneeling next to him. 

“What’s wrong? You went pretty docile just now, didn’t you?” He smirks.

“Fuck you.” Seungcheol grits his teeth.

“What did you say?” Wonwoo grips his jaw tight.

“I said fuck you, pretty boy.” Seungcheol sports a shit-eating grin and it earns him a harsh slap on the ass, making him whine pathetically.

“I prefer it when you make pretty sounds like the one you made just now.” Wonwoo runs his thumb over the pretty pink bottom lip and the naked man sucks the digit.

“That thing where you two start without me is getting annoying.” You shake your head in disapproval, stepping into the bedroom impatiently.

“Sorry sunshine, but baby boy is being a little impatient slut today.” 

“Yeah, I noticed. I bet he thought of walking around the apartment completely naked just to get our attention.” You take off your clothes in a hurry, remaining only in your underwear set. 

“Ooh, she has the lace on.” Wonwoo whistles in a flirty way as he takes his thumb away.

“I always like to be prepared for any case.”

“Could you please p-pay some attention to me?” Seungcheol asks through gritted teeth, struggling with the toy inside him.

“Hm? What was that, Cheollie?” You kneel right next to him, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please pay some attention to me.” He repeats his sentence a bit louder.

“We are right here, baby boy.” Wonwoo cups his neck lovingly, “Just tell us what you want and we’ll give it to you.”

“I need you, both, please.” The blond man exhales shakily.

Wonwoo and you look at each other, sharing impish glances, as if your brains thought of the same thing at the same time. He then gets up and takes off his long sleeved shirt and sweats, dropping the clothes right in front of Seungcheol. He then sits on the bed, patting his lap for you to join him.

You climb on the bed and in your boyfriend’s lap, leaving your other boyfriend shocked and visibly upset.

“You- I hate you both.” He grumbles while clenching his fists on the floor.

“If you want to join, then don’t cum.” Wonwoo looks him straight in the eyes while groping your ass. “Perhaps then we’ll consider it.”

“Wonu? I am right here, baby.” You get his attention by putting your hands on his broad shoulders and you rub yourself on his boxers to rile him up. And it works like a fucking charm, because he’s shoving his tongue down your throat like a man who hasn’t kissed someone in an entire lifetime. 

His kisses are usually softer and more calculated, but not today - Wonwoo is far too riled up to care about details and the only thing he wants is to ravish you. He pushes you on the mattress and climbs over you, ruthlessly attacking your lips and neck with his mouth. He uses both teeth and tongue to abuse your skin, deliberately targeting your weak spots to elicit sweet noises from you.

He steals a few side glances towards Seungcheol, who is on the brink of tears from being edged for so long, droplets of sweat running down his flushed skin. The irrational, needy part of his brain wants to jump on the bed and kick Wonwoo outside, while keeping you all to himself. But he knows better than disobeying a pissed off Wonwoo.

Wonwoo pulls you by the arms and makes you sit on your knees facing Seungcheol, while he sits behind you, chest touching your back.

“Let’s give our baby boy a show, shall we?” He whispers in your ear and you nod, biting your bottom lip.

Wonwoo caresses your body with his hands, over your stomach and reaches your covered breasts. He hooks his fingers in the lace of your bra, tugging it harshly to let your mounds bounce out of the undergarment, a small ripping sound reaching your ears. 

“Ease off the lace!” You whine, but he grabs your chin with his hand, the other glued on your chest.

“Act up and I’ll make sure you won’t cum at all, sunshine. Am I clear?”

“...yes Sir.” You sigh, 

“Good girl.” Wonwoo kisses your cheek and relaxes his grip on your chin. “Good girls always get rewarded.” He murmurs in your ear, his hand descending lower and lower.

You let out a small moan when your boyfriend’s hand palms over your clothed pussy, slowly rubbing the lace hiding your clit.

“I can already tell you’re excited about this, sunshine. Soaking through your underwear like the needy little thing you are.” Wonwoo’s lips are glued on your ear.

“Please touch me more, Sir.” You whine, looking right into Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I didn’t hear you well, darling.” The dark haired man chuckles.

“Just touch her, you asshole.” Seungcheol groans, his cock twitching like crazy again.

“You don’t get to speak a damn word.” Wonwoo grits his teeth.

“Wonu, please!” You cry out, “I need you so bad, I’m gonna lose it!”

“You goddamn little shits.” He pushes you on the bed and gets up, standing next to Seungcheol.

“You want to get fucked? Now’s your chance.” He grips the blond man’s hair and lifts him off the knotted toy, practically throwing him on the bed like a ragdoll.

“Ouch, that hurt, you fucker!” Seungcheol snarls at Wonwoo, but the younger man pins him down on the mattress, despite being less muscular.

“Playtime’s over, baby boy. My turn now.” He discards his boxers, cock slapping against his stomach, bright red and leaking.

“Funny how you’re trying to act all dominant yet you’re leaking more than a broken faucet.” Seungcheol snickers, spreading his legs apart.

Wonwoo glances at you and offers you his hand to help you get up. You take it with a smirk and he positions you right between Seungcheol’s legs.

“You know what to do. And remember - don’t let him have his way with you.”

“Gotcha.” You grin devilishly.

“Princess, do you seriously think you can dom me? Please be real now.” Seungcheol laughs, but his laughter is cut short when he sees Wonwoo hovering right above his face.

“No. But we can dom you.”

You put your hands under Seungcheol’s knees and push his thighs apart to make room for yourself, putting him in a mating press instead of the opposite that usually happens in the bedroom. You position yourself right over his tip and slowly slide your pussy down his length, until it has completely disappeared inside you.

“O-Oh….Fuck, Princess, didn’t see that coming.” The blond man’s mouth goes slack from the novel sensation.

“God, no wonder you like this position so much.” You moan and start moving your hips the same way one of your boyfriends usually fuck you stupid.

Seungcheol throws his head back and grins when he sees Wonwoo pumping his cock with his hand, the tip dangerously close to his cheek.

“What are you waiting for, Wonu?” The older man snickers and moves his hand to touch his boyfriend’s shaft, but Wonwoo pins his wrists down and lets his cock rub the plush lips.

“For the right moment to shut you up.”

Wonwoo slides his cock inside and starts fucking Seungcheol’s throat harshly, finally letting out his pent up frustrations. 

“Don’t be so h-harsh on him, Wonu, he might choke.” You point out the gagging, sloppy noises coming from above.

“Don’t worry, he can take it. Isn’t that right, baby boy?” Wonwoo takes off his cock for a few seconds.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol coughs a bit, but regains his breath like a pro, “Just make sure to fuck me like you both mean it, you weaklings.”

The comment makes you and Wonwoo’s blood boil like molten lava and you climb over Seungcheol’s body to push his thighs further apart and fuck him like a bitch in heat.

“That’s it, sunshine. Fuck him like the whore he is.” Wonwoo grunts as he facefucks your (and his) boyfriend, putting one hand on his throat to squeeze it ever so slightly.

“Shit, this feels so damn great,” you moan out loud as you ride his cock, “I can feel him twitching inside me, he’s close.”

“Of course he is,” Wonwoo leans closer and gives you a quick kiss, “Nobody could ever resist your beautiful pussy, sunshine. Especially us.”

Seungcheol starts moaning around the shaft bullying his mouth and he wraps his thick thighs around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Oof- God, he’s so damn desperate to cum.” You chuckle and run your hands over his torso to rile him up even further.

“Don’t stop until you are fully satisfied, Y/N. Baby boy is here to take whatever we’re going to give him.”  

Your pussy stays glued on Seungcheol’s cock, rubbing it like a tight fleshlight until it starts milking him dry, sucking globs after globs of cum. The muscles of his thighs twitch behind your waist and his fists clench on the mattress, the shocks of his orgasm torturing his body.

Wonwoo detaches his hips away from Seungcheol’s mouth, letting the man breathe and spew a string of moans and curses.

“Princess, please, s-slow down! You’re- ah, fuck!” He whines loudly, tears stinging his eyes.

“She won’t stop until she has had her fill, baby boy.” Wonwoo digs his nails in Seungcheol’s wrists, “And don’t even try to stop her. Am I clear?”

“Shit- Yes, Sir.”

You rhythmically bounce your hips on top of his dick, your inner thighs beginning to burn from exhaustion and a thick, milky ring forms around your entrance. You can feel your own climax inch closer and closer, the pattern of your movements growing sloppier by the second.

“S-Sir I’m gonna cum, God I’m so close!” You cry out and plant your palms on the toned pair of pecs underneath you.

“Go on, sunshine. You earned this orgasm all on your own, you and your capable pussy.” Wonwoo stares at you with hungry eyes, watching you fall apart on the blond man’s cock.

Your eyes nearly roll in the back of your skull when you finally cum and you would be lying if you said it isn’t one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. You’re certain your brain has stopped working and you probably look like a lust-crazed animal.

“That’s it, sunshine. Ride it all out.” The dark haired man presses a kiss on the column of your neck, while Seungcheol is writhing and shaking under the two of you.

“I’m so….full.” You sigh in satisfaction and you feel the meaty legs around your lower back relaxing around you and plopping down on the bed. You carefully lift yourself off his lap and let out a long drawn moan when a sticky trail of cum runs down your thigh.

“God, I’m so spent.” Seungcheol groans, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Already? That’s too bad.” Wonwoo scoffs and flips his boyfriend face down on the sheets. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

“And I thought you had completely forgotten.” Seungcheol grins and bumps his ass directly on Wonwoo’s hardened dick. “Come on, don’t you want to fuck my ass already?”

You sit back on the headboard, your fingers ghosting over your chest and clit, your gaze entirely focused on your boyfriends.

“We even have an audience, pretty boy. I think you should hurry up and stick it in.”

Wonwoo chuckles as he lines up his cock and slowly pushes in, until he’s balls deep.

“Enjoy the show, sunshine.”

The tall man grips Seungcheol’s waist and begins thrusting slowly inside him, grunting at the tight sensation around his cock. 

“How are you still tight after sitting on that monstrosity for so long?”

“Can’t betray my secrets like that.” The blond man sends a wink towards you.

“Wonu, go faster.” You say with a demanding tone, your fingers working circles on your clit.

“You heard the princess - Put your back into it, pretty boy.” 

“Damn you both, fucking brats.” Wonwoo uses one hand to fist Seungcheol’s hair and keep his head down, now towering over him. He pistons his hips against his boyfriend’s ass hard enough to make it bounce repeatedly, smacking noises filling the room.

“Fuck - That’s what I’m t-talking about.” Seungcheol grips the sheets, lips parted open and moans spilling freely.

Your whines match your boyfriend’s moans, your hands working out your pussy at the same speed Wonwoo is thrusting. Two of your digits are covered in the cum left inside you from previously riding Seungcheol, acting as the perfect lube.

“Ass made in Heaven, damnit,” Wonwoo catches his bottom lip with his teeth, “Made to be railed by none other than me.”

“My toys would like to disagree.” Seungcheol half moans and the snarky comment earns him a slap on the ass, forcing him to whimper.

“The only noises I want to hear from you are whimpers and moans, you whore.” 

Wonwoo gets rougher with his thrusts, his hand pulling Seungcheol’s hair by the roots, lifting his head to make him face you. “Now, I want you to look at her while I’m fucking you stupid and give her the most cunt-watering expression you have.”

“Y-Yes, Sir.” Seungcheol breathes out, a fresh layer of sweat adorning his body.

Wonwoo delivers full-bodied thrusts, pulling and pushing his cock until the tip is barely inside and then fully sheathed again, knocking the air out of Seungcheol’s lungs. Salty tears cascade his cheeks, his body jerking forward with each movement.

“W-Wonu, you’re being too r-rough with him.” You comment shakily, two of your fingers rapidly plunging into your weeping cunt

“Rough, you say? Do you want me to slow down, baby boy?” Wonwoo asks his boyfriend, halting his hips.

“N-No, please don’t, please don’t stop, fuck!” Seungcheol pushes his ass back, chasing the stimulation.

“See, sunshine? Baby boy likes it rough and sloppy - and so do you.”

“I-”

“Keep your beautiful pussy stuffed until we’re done, will you?”

“Yes, yes Sir.” You nod furiously as you try to push back your orgasm.

“W-Won’t be too long until then,” Wonwoo groans loudly, “I’m almost there, fuck.”

“Please do it inside, please!” Seungcheol begs loudly, his body nearly giving out.

“Fuck, take it all, slut, all yours.” Wonwoo curses in his ear and finally topples over the edge, dumping a part of his load in his boyfriend’s hole. He takes out his cock, giving it a few more pumps to splatter the remnants of his climax all over Seungcheol’s ass. 

The sight before you makes your head spin with more arousal and your walls clench around your fingers, your own orgasm washing over you and sending you to cloud nine.

For a good few minutes, mixed heavy breaths are all the three of you can hear. It’s clear as daylight that all three of you are beyond tired and barely able to move.

“My body hurts everywhere.” Seungcheol whines in defeat.

“Mine too.” You agree.

“I’m afraid both of you need to get up,” Wonwoo stretches his back, “We need to change the sheets, they’re fucked.”

“So are we, dumbass.” The blond man grimaces in pain.

“I am fully aware,” Wonwoo tries to lift Seungcheol up and you right after, “Now get up, we need to get you cleaned up.”

“You haven’t even prepared a bath!” You pout your lips in protest.

“Really going through the princess act, don’t you?” He lifts you in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, gently placing you on the edge of the tub. 

“As if you don’t like treating me like one.” You grin playfully.

“I would say this is Cheol’s duty, but I love you a little too much to not treat you like a princess.” He presses a kiss on your cheek and lets the water run. “Mind checking the water until I’m back with him?”

“Not at all.” You reply with a smile and he leaves the bathroom to return to the crime scene.

To his surprise, Wonwoo finds Seungcheol standing up and removing the dirty sheets, the skin on his ass and thighs stained from cum streaks.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t let you do all the work now.” The blond man picks up the sheets and the used toy from the floor. As soon as he takes a couple more steps towards the door, he can feel his legs screaming in pain.

“Ow fuck!”

“Whoa, careful!” Wonwoo sweeps at the right moment and catches him before falling, “Can you please not be so fucking stubborn?”

“But-”

“No buts.” He throws Seungcheol’s arm over his shoulder, “I need to get your ass to the bathroom.”

“What are you doing? The bath is ready!” You yell from the corridor.

“Coming!” Wonwoo yells back.

“Well, at least now we’re even, right?” Seungcheol gives a silly wink towards the dark haired man.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Wonwoo snorts as he helps the older man out of the bedroom.

“After being fucked like this? Definitely.”

“Stupid and incorrigible.”

“And hot and rich and-”

Wonwoo cuts him off with a quick kiss on the lips, catching him off guard.

“Can you please shut the fuck up?”

Seungcheol flashes a toothy grin and runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Yes, Sir.”

[pupkashi]

Ok so can i request something?

Im currently on my period and i feel my insides tearing apart. Im having rough months cause my roomate who was also my best friend got in a fight with me and blamed me for everything (that wasn't even my fault) and my final term exams are here as well :((( imagine all the pressure

Can i get something soft with toru?my period is killing me and I would KILL to have this man with me rn

a/n: me when a bad bitch tells me to write comforting fluff 🫡 in all seriousness i hope this helps you even a smidge my beloved !!! i know how terrible and hurtful fights with friends can be from personal experience and i hope things get resolved for you soon <3 i love u so so so much you sweet summer child I’m so proud of you & best of luck on exams !

masterlist

sundays are your favorite days, you’ve decided.

sunday means you’ll have a warm, lanky, white haired sorcerer asleep next to you when you wake up. his arms tightly wrapped around your torso with his over grown hair tickling the back of your neck.

it’s sunday morning, and satoru is wrapped around you like a koala bear. there’s soft snores coming from the tired sorcerer, making you wonder what time he got home last night. the clock on the nightstand reads 7:42 am, making you smile. you don’t move or try to turn to face your lover, opting instead for reveling in his warm embrace, letting your eyes close softly and listening to his steady breathing.

satoru is awake by the time you wake up again, he’s drawing light circles on your bare arms. you turn around slowly, finding him laying on his side propped up on one elbow with his head in his hand. part of his hair is spiked up every which way, the other completely flat and there’s stray strands of hair all over his forehead.

“morning sweetheart” he whispers, smiling softly as he wipes away an eyelash from your cheek. the pad of his thumb brushes against your cheek, his hands are a bit calloused and rough, but you don’t care. you let your eyes close at the feeling, smiling before fluttering them open again.

“g’morning toru” you whisper back, smiling as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “d’you get back late last night?” he nods.

“first years had more trouble than i thought they would” he adds on, “you didn’t wait up did you?” there’s a pout on his lips when he sees you nodding.

“not too long though don’t worry” you assure him, flopping onto your back and staring at the ceiling, “knew youd be upset if you found me awake when you got home.” satoru smiles, you had him all figured out and he loved it.

“can’t have my baby losing sleep over me, now can i?” his voice is still raspy and deeper than usual, it makes your stomach flip and your heart stutter.

satoru moves around until he’s got his head resting on your chest, closing his eyes when your fingers find purchase in his hair. you both stay quiet for a bit, your fingers running through his hair and satoru letting his body fully relax under your touch.

“missed you” he mumbles, not opening his eyes. “wish everyday could be like this” the sigh that leaves his lips makes you frown a bit.

“don’t worry angel boy, one day it will be” you assure him, continuing to play with his hair, smiling when you form it into a giant spike before combing it down again. “for now, you wanna make breakfast?”

the sorcerer hums in agreement, standing up and stretching before the two of you head to the restroom, grabbing your respective toothbrushes.

“any plans today?” satoru asks, words jumbled and muffled thanks to the toothbrush in his mouth, but you understand him perfectly. you shake your head ‘no’ the two of you spitting and rinsing your mouths before heading to the kitchen.

there was only one way satoru would eat his veggies, and it’s if you made them in his eggs. while you chopped up some bell peppers, mushrooms and rinsed spinach, satoru put coffee to brew. small talk filling the space of the kitchen as you two slowly woke up.

it’s not long before satoru was wrapping his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on your shoulder as he watched you cook the eggs. he’s placing soft kisses on your neck, smiling when he hears your giggles.

“your hair tickles” you laugh, making no attempt at pushing him off you.

“should i get a trim?” he asks you, laughing when you immediately respond with a quick ‘no!’

before long satoru has two coffees on the dining table, accompanied by two plates of food that you set down moments later. it’s peaceful as the two of you talk, hearing the world outside wake up, cars going up and down the street every five, ten minutes and birds singing sweetly by the bird feeder you’d set up with satoru not long ago.

“think a dove is setting up a nest in the garden” you smile, watching as your lover immediately looks up from his food excitedly.

“really? i told you we should’ve gotten the bird houses!” his eyes are gleaming as he stares out the window, smiling at the sight of two doves at the bird feeder. me and you, he thinks, staying quiet so he could continue to listen to you tell him of the new season premiere tonight.

the day passes slowly, with you two lounging on the couch watching an episode of whatever show you two had started during the week before getting ready for the grocery store.

satoru takes grocery shopping you very seriously, writing down every item you say on a paper list as you check the pantry and fridge. soon enough the two of you are on your way to the store, satoru grabbing a shopping cart and following you as you pick out everything.

he does make himself useful by getting whatever you tell him to, smiling widely when you approve of his fruit picks and sets them in the cart gently. he does all of the heavy lifting, carrying all your groceries in the house in one trip, not even breaking a sweat as he softly sets them down.

the two of you work harmoniously putting everything away, never once bumping into each other and easily understanding what the other wants without having to say a word.

“should we do takeout tonight?” he asks, looking down at you. the two of you freshly showered and now on the couch. your head in his lap as you both wait for the new episode of your show to premiere.

“yeah, what’d you have in mind?” you ask. 20 minutes later the two of you are eating dinner, drinking a bottle of wine satoru picked up on his way back home.

it seems unreal to satoru. being home. no matter how many weekends he spends with you, they all seem to be like a dream. he doesn’t care much for the show on tv, but he still sits with you and watches it for the full hour, listening intently to anything you had to say.

its dark out, and to both you and satoru’s dismay sunday has come and gone all too quickly. you’re both back in bed, in each others warm embrace. conversation topics come and go quickly, the two of you laughing loudly at any little thing.

“oh my god it’s already two in the morning” you gasp, looking at your lover with a shocked expression, “how do we always manage to talk all night?” satoru laughs as you try to pull the blanket over yourself, as if that would instantly make you fall asleep.

“time flies when you’re with the love of your life” he sing songs, joining you under the blanket and looking at you with fond eyes.

“that’s not how that goes” you tease, watching as he rolled his eyes, muttering a ‘come here’ before getting you back in his arms, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle.

“toru you have to be up early!” you scold, the smile on your face is a juxtaposition to your words. and you can’t help but smack him softly when he points it out.

“alright, alright” he sighs, turning off the dim lights and leaving a mixture of moonlight and streetlights illuminating the room. “let’s go to sleep then.”

it doesn’t take long to get cozy, the weeks exhaustion still prominent as you two begin to doze off quickly. satoru tries to keep talking, but his words don’t make much sense as they’re muffled against the top of your head.

“g’night toru, i love you” you whisper, holding him a bit tighter as he replies, already half asleep.

“g’night sweetheart, i love you.”

sunday ends the same way it began. with satoru wrapped around you like a koala, his streaky breathing lulling you to sleep. his body radiating warmth that makes you feel more sleepy. you can hear his soft snores after a couple minutes, it makes you smile.

you don’t dwell on the fact that come tomorrow morning, his side of the bed will be cold and you’ll have to go back to your routine. instead you sigh happily, letting yourself enjoy your lovers company on your favorite day of the week.

taglist (send an ask to be added): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[mydadleft471]

An Ailing Heart, A Shimmering Soul

Summary: Another Tarnished invades the Shadow Keep and Messmer takes care of them. But something seems off this time. You comfort him when he is most vulnerable.

Spoilers, per usual, for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. Warnings for descriptions of violence and a slight amount of spice wink wonk ;D (I've never wrote anything spicy please go easy on my ass, I'm so down bad)

I had two requests, one from the lovely @asianbutnotjapanese and the other from anonymous, and I thought they'd go so well together! I'll link the posts here and here! Thank you both for the requests! I love writing comfort for this lanky man.

As always, thank you for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting! It makes my day every single time!

Another Tarnished had invaded the Shadow Keep today. This one made it to Messmer himself. Many others found themselves terribly outmatched by his many knights and guards.

You waited patiently in Messmer’s chamber for him to return victorious, just as he had done a multitude of times before. Fiddling with your hands, you tried to drown out the screams and thudding from the room adjacent to Messmer’s, but your thoughts did little to distract you. Your mind wandered, as it always did in these moments: would he come back from this fight?

You shook your head. Of course he would. He was a mighty demigod with more than his mother’s wishes to fight for now. He had you. It was something he whispered into your hair when you lay huddled against his massive form in his bed. You were drifting on the very edge of sleep when his voice, silky and smooth, cut through the silence.

“I will return to thee, beloved consort. This I shall promise.”

Your heart had flipped in your chest. You knew he meant it and he never went back on his word.

The large door creaking open interrupted the sweet memory. Pushing yourself off the bed, you stepped timidly until Messmer came into view.

Blood adorned his chest like rubies and his eye was glued to the floor. He had left his spear in the previous room.

You hurry towards him. “Are you hurt?” You grab his hands and clutch them tightly.

“Merely scratched and covered in blood that is not my own.” He sounds tired.

Carefully, you lead him over to his ornate washroom. He doesn’t say anything as you pull him behind you like dead weight. Even his serpents stay still as they’re perched on his shoulders. Dropping his hands, you hurry to grab some bath salts he likes and a fluffy towel. You turn the faucet and the tub begins to fill with warm water. Pouring some of the salts in and swirling them around, the room begins to smell sweetly of jasmine and vanilla. 

Looking back at your lover, you notice that he watches you tiredly. His eye droops and he doesn’t stand as tall as usual.

“Do you need help taking your armor off?” He merely nods in response, so you get to work.

You stretch your arms up to take off his helmet and he bows his head. You set it on the table behind you and comb your fingers through some of the rebellious strands of red. Carefully raising the cloak he wears, you allow the serpents to wiggle out of it before undoing the clasp and letting it fall to the floor behind him. Moving around him, you work on the various buckles on his armor and before long, it joins his cloak in a bloody, crumpled heap. 

“Come, my love,” you call out to him and his eye shimmers in response. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You take his hand and gently guide him into the bath, letting him go as slowly as he needs to. Once he settles into the warm water, he lets out a sigh of relief. You tilt his head back and pour water over his hair, just as you have done many times before. It’s become a daily thing to wash his hair and body. He loves the tenderness in every touch you lay upon him.

You begin to massage some of his favorite shampoo into his fiery locks. You take your time ensuring his scalp has been thoroughly washed and thread your fingers through the tips of his hair. He shudders and shivers in pleasure. 

You want to ask what’s wrong. He’s come back from fights exhausted and worried, but he’s never looked so dejected. Perhaps the fight was too close for his liking? When you took off his armor minutes earlier, you hadn’t seen any new bruises or wounds on his body, so that couldn’t be it. The Tarnished that came to his Keep enraged him, sure, especially if they had hurt any of his men, but they had never made him like this.

“Messmer?” His eye opens slightly. “What’s bothering you?”

“Whatever dost thou mean?” His voice is dejected and quiet.

“Did something happen during your fight?” You tilt his head back and wash the shampoo from his hair.

“‘Tis nothing. Thou needn’t worry.”

You sigh. “I thought we talked about this, about being open with each other. If something is bothering you, I want to help.”

He reaches for your hand and you gladly give it to him. He turns it over in his hand, seemingly marveling at how small yours is compared to his. He kisses your knuckles and moves your hand so you cup his cheek.

“That Tarnished held the belief that I was keeping thee prisoner here.” 

Your mouth hangs open. “Prisoner? My love, no! I’m happy here.”

“They did not thinkest so. Perhaps they imagined themself a protector, like I.”

“Messmer,” you make him look at you. “I stay here because I want to. I stay here because I love you. Okay?”

“I had never felt rage such as that. I lost myself.” He admits.

“I’d be angry too. It’s okay.”

He lets out a shuddering breath and a golden tear streaks its way down his pale cheek. You reach out to brush it away.

“I do not deserve thee, beloved. I am naught but a cursed monster.”

“You are so much more than that. I don’t care if you’re cursed.” You pull away from him and pour a generous amount of conditioner into your hands. You gently apply it to his hair. 

“You make me truly happy. I hope you know that.” You whisper those words into his ear.

“I shall try to remember that.”

You wash away the conditioner and wrap your arms around his shoulders, not caring about how the water soaks through your clothes. He grabs one of your hands and holds it. You lay a light kiss on his neck and he shudders again.

“Do you want me to wash your body, my love?” You ask into his hair.

“Please.”

“Okay.” You smile and unwind yourself from him.

You gather some soap and begin to lather it on his shoulders. You take your time and even knead out some of the knots in his back as you go. He lets out small gasps and you can see that his ears are a bright red almost rivaling his hair. You raise his arms from the water and squeeze his arms, feeling his muscles. He shoots you a look and you quickly look away, continuing to wash him as he requested. You tilt his head back, sweetly sweeping your hands across his neck and travel down to his collarbones, giving them the same treatment as the rest of his body.

“I ask thee stop this teasing.” His eye is screwed shut.

“Oh shush. You like this.”

“Perhaps.” You smirk.

Continuing down his body, you lather his chest in soap and delicately make your way to his stomach. He visibly tenses at this and you shoot him a puzzled look.

“Thou’rt cruel indeed. Continuing may force my hand.” He warns you, his eye shimmering a bright gold.

Oh. Oh.

As much as you would love to indulge in him, right now he needs comfort. You nod, face blushing as red as his, and you begin to wash away any remaining bubbles kissing his skin. Grabbing a fluffy towel, you wordlessly hand it to him and he stands. You tear your gaze away from him as he dries off and try to keep your thoughts decent. You go fetch his favorite robe from his chambers and grab his brush from where it sits on his bedside table. 

When you return, he’s sitting on the plush chair in front of the large vanity he had made for you. You offer him his robe and turn around, waiting for him to dress himself. He clears his throat and you turn around.

“Would you let me do your hair tonight?”

“If it would make thee happy.”

“Always. I love taking care of you.” That earns you a loving smile.

You begin to brush away any tangles he has, but since you’ve been giving his hair regular maintenance, it’s become easier to manage. The bristles gently scratch against his scalp and he lets out a pleased hum. You have such a lovable demigod.

Once you’ve ensured his hair is soft and smooth, you part his hair down the middle. You can see him watching you in the mirror. 

“I think you would look stunning in braids.”

He shakes his head. “Braids are intended for nobility and those with honor.”

“You’re a demigod, my love.”

He opens his mouth to say something but he stops when he sees you standing behind him with your hands on your hips, daring him to refuse you. “There is no sense in arguing with thee, it seems.”

“You are correct.” He rolls his eye. You were so stubborn.

Staring on the left side, you take three small strands and delicately weave them together. His hair is easy to work with and within a few minutes, you have a tiny braid.

You hold out your finished work. “Hold this, please.” He does as you ask, and you almost chuckle at the sight of him concentrating on keeping it pinched between his fingers.

Moving to the right side, you do the exact same thing. Strands of red dance in and out and soon, you have another braid. You admire your work.

You take the first braid from him with a small thank you and carefully lay them down on his head, making them join at the ends. It creates an oval-like shape and emits an air of importance. You grab a small hand-held mirror from the table in front of him and give it to him. He stands and faces away from the vanity, repositioning the tiny mirror so he could see the beautiful, yet simple, job you did. He eye crinkles and he seems to like it.

“Thou hast done a wonderful job. I thank thee, beloved.” 

You take the small mirror from him and return it to the vanity table. You gesture for him to sit, which he does without protest.

“Your serpents deserve braids too.” He chuckles and his companions look at you with wide eyes.

You open the drawer of the vanity and pull out two tiny braids made from some fabric. You had been practicing with these so your braids would look perfect.

The serpents come closer and you gently lay the strand of fabric on them. They shake a little at first, then flick their tongues excitedly.

“I think they look handsome, don’t you think, Messmer?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “They look quite ridiculous.” The serpents hiss.

You gently pat them both and they nuzzle into your touch. “Don’t listen to him. You both look wonderful.”

In truth, they did look a little silly, but they seemed proud to wear braids like their master.

“Thou always tends to my ailing soul, beloved.” He kisses the top of your head.

“Proud to serve, my Lord.” He rolls his eye at the use of his title.

He scoops your hands up in his and gazes into your eyes tenderly. “I shall say it now for fear that thou dost not realize: thou art free. Wherever thy soul wishes to roam, thou mayest go. I only request that thou returnest to me safe.”

You shake your head. This man. You lean up on your tiptoes and he bridges the gap, placing a loving kiss on your lips. There is no rush, no fight for dominance, just the both of you existing in the same space. Your hearts swell in admiration for one another.

There is nowhere else you’d rather be.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Wardrobe creaked quietly, almost faintly as SAM MONROE wedged himself inside, his lanky frame folded uncomfortably against the wooden panels. Beside him, little Vinnie squirmed happily in his lap, clutching a small, carefully secured mug of lukewarm cocoa Sam made him in secret just minutes ago. The toddler’s tiny hands made the mug look almost comical, yet Sam wasn’t taking any chances - he won't clean his mother's favorite white carpet from flavored milk.

“Don’t spill it, buddy,” Sam whispered with tone firm yet still low enough to keep their hiding spot a secret. “If you dump that all over me, I swear, I’m throwing us both to the wolves.”

Vinnie responded with a gleeful babble, probably not even understanding sam's critical words but just being completely happy his father is giving him the beloved attention. Chubby face light up as he took a cautious sip, chocolate smudging the corners of his mouth. Sam sighed, lips twitching with the ghost of a smile before he wiped the mess with his long sleeve.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, grumpiness barely masking the fondness in his voice. “I’m risking my ass here, hiding from Grandma just so you can have your little sugar fix.”

The toddler cooed in response, wide eyes darting towards the small crack in the wardrobe door. The light outside from both Christmas tree and soft brightness casting faint patterns across their faces.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sam narrowed his eyes when he noticed Vinnie leaning toward the crack, tiny mouth opening like he was about to yell. “We’re on a stealth mission here, okay? You can’t blow our cover.”

The boy of course giggled, small teeth peeking through, and Sam shook his head, leaning back against the wardrobe wall.

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” he grumbled, lifting his finger to lightly poke Vinnie's cheek before you tickling the soft skin “Otherwise, I’d probably leave you out there to deal with Grandma yourself.”

Vinnie babbled something out of human dictionary, thrusting the mug towards Sam like he was offering it to share.

“What?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You want me to drink your cocoa now? You realize you’ve got backwash in there, right?”

The toddler didn’t seem to care, grin only growing widening but he whined now, more impatient for Sam to take it.

“Fine,” Sam relented, sighing before he took the tiniest sip. “Happy now?”

Vinnie clumsily clapped his hands, clearly delighted with himself, and Sam chuckled softly.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered, pulling the boy closer and wrapping his arms protectively around his small frame. “But I guess you’re my dork, huh?”

“Bet they’re all wondering where we went,” Sam said, voice softer now, as if it was to himself. “Let ‘em wonder. This is way better than all that fake holiday cheer crap.”

He glanced down at Vinnie, who was now resting his head against Sam’s chest - using it proudly as his pillow- eyelids growing heavy.

“Merry Christmas, little man,” Sam whispered, brushing a kiss to the top of Vinnie’s curls. “Next year, you can help me come up with an even better hiding spot.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @rssmary @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

[55szn]

lacy - mv1

max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max

wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)

warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry

a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah

YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.

She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.

YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.

The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.

The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.

She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.

But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.

Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.

It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.

She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?

She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.

Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q2, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.

The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.

He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?

He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.

She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.

"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.

"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."

YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?

When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."

"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.

Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."

"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.

The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."

He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.

"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.

Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.

"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."

The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.

But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.

[thedivineden]

Thin Ice

Summer Olympics Collab w/ @tetzoro

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: smut

words: 5k+

notes: dubcon, enemies, breeding, jujitsu kaisen au!figure skaters, slight mentions of sexual harassment from Gojo, obsession, controlling behaviors, jealousy, drugging, peer pressure, slight manipulation,

AN: I had so much fun writing this, you should see the notes I scribbled at work because we’re not allowed to have our phones! Thank you so much @tetzoro for allowing me to be apart of this lovely event. ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊

You and Gojo Satoru have been competing against each other since the day you were placed in the same class at nine years old. He was favored due to his family standing within the figure skating community but you had raw, unfiltered talent which shook him and his family to their core. Despite all your talent, he’s managed to win almost every single competition. You’d bet big money that it had to do with his family status but you don’t upset the balance until you’re both picked for the Olympics.

And boy were you fuming. “I ALONE have went through hell and back to be where I am whereas he gets placed just because of his family name! It’s preposterous Shoko!” you’ve been ranting to your coach for an hour about the competition; how you didn’t believe that he deserved to be here and wish you didn’t have to compete along side him. “That spoiled brat doesn’t have a INCH of talent in his bones even if it was injected with a needle!”

“Aw do you really hate me that much? I thought we were friends?” You turn to the door to see the lanky white haired man standing against its frame smiling down at you. “Friends? Satoru please, you know I never enjoyed your company now leave. I’m having a discussion with MY coach or are you wanting to take her away from me too?” Shoko stifled a small laugh and stood up. “Gojo, don’t stress my prodigy out. What do you want?”

Gojo never took his eyes off of you; he saw your annoyance as just another game. You roll your eyes and say, "Well, I was just coming to check on my favorite figure skater but I don't think she was to see me." Despite your request to go, Gojo slips into your room and envelops you in his arms. "I'll break all ten of your toes in five seconds if you don't get off of me."

Gojo chuckles at what you've said because he adores your fierce personality and is confident that you will follow through. You lost a tournament at 15 after he "jokingly" slapped your behind for taking first place and your only recourse was to throw your ice skate at him. His parents complained to the judges and got you disqualified.

You were more concerned about scuffing your brand-new Eden Piano ice skates than you were about the blade nearly striking him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he said, "Aw, must you struggle so much, you know you love it, and I know you love me, why don't we meet up later? My room?” You're furious now and shove him away from you. You're about to charge at him when Shoko, sporting her signature side grin, stands in between the two of you.

“Shall we maintain the calm? Alright, sweetie?” The man behind her laughs audibly, saying, "Yeah, sweetie! Let's maintain harmony.” Even though you were angry, you wouldn't allow him or anybody else to sour your mood. "Shoko, you're right; I won't have to deal with him for very long. After the Olympics, I'm heading to Brazil, and I have no intention of returning to Tokyo.” That touched a nerve; your coach's gasp indicates to Gojo that she was equally clueless. You had no idea that your remark had the man fuming.

You? Leaving? The young man finds just such idea absurd. Ever since he first saw you in class, you have been everything to him. You were not impressed with Gojo's antics, even if he is accustomed to getting his way. No matter how many pranks and tricks he performed or how many gifts he put in your locker, his efforts were consistently disregarded.

The man continued to essentially harass you every day despite your denial. He would make harsh remarks about your body, clearly taking care to point out that you are curvier than all the other figure skaters in the class or that your ass is "so massive that you might tip over," which would ultimately be the undoing of you. You could not care less, and all he wanted was the thrill of having your undivided attention.

Gojo needed and desired you more than anything else, and this only made his fixation worse. Without saying anything more, the young man left the room, leaving Shoko to ask all the relevant questions and provide the information later. He's going to make sure that you remember him forever.

It took hours for the two of you to be back together again. You were seated close to each other for the opening ceremony. The opening ceremony typically features the entrances of the head of state or other official of the host nation as well as the president of the International Olympic Committee. The national anthem and flag are then raised and played. Then the tournament started.

You have a strong passion for figure skating, and when you're on the ice, it feels remote. Nothing could distract you from your quest for excellence in each trick, flip, and turn. Everyone in the stadium is quiet, appreciating your stunning appearance and captivating performance. Your candid feelings convey a tale of bereavement.

You jump off the backward outside edge on one foot, using your toe pick to help you get airborne, then use your other leg to reach across your body and back to pick into the ice. Gojo is an enormous admirer of your performances and would do anything to spend time on the ice with you.

You were actually quite flexible, as required by the biellmann spin. You spin on one foot, stretching the other leg behind you and above your head to make the shape of a teardrop, and Gojo is staring at you in astonishment. You release your leg and step off the ice again. You can turn the odds in your favor with just your pure resolve.

You release everything forward, shift your entire weight on your takeoff left leg, raise your arms, and release your right leg back at the same moment of takeoff. At first, it looks like a typical axel leap, but in order to complete the trick, you have to make four and a half rotations in the air. When you land perfect, everyone in the stadium goes crazy. Gojo was aware of the announcers' adoration for your flawless quadruple axel.

Interviewers are waiting in line to chat with Japan's figure skating prodigy as soon as you step off the ice. Gojo heard all of the inquiries: "Wow, it was incredible! "How long have you been practicing your quadruple axel?" "How long have you been training?" and "Do you ever see yourself performing routines in pairs with?" You were brisk even off the rink, graciously and enthusiastically responding to every inquiry.

Gojo is the next to go, but not before he interacts with you. "Looks like you're going for the gold, but we all know who's really taking it home." Your smile quickly disappears and is replaced by a frown. "If you already know you're the winner why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that I'm not?" You grin again and walk past the gaunt man before he can respond, heading toward Shoko.

God, you made him so hard.

Despite what you previously stated, Gojo is without a doubt the greatest for Japan, and his mesmerizing methods are hard to ignore. Every now and then, Gojo stretches out his palm and takes a tiny step forward, sliding across the icy rink with effortless ease. Not long after he picks up speed, he throws his right leg over his head and balances on his left foot. He spread his arms, almost making a T or possibly a K. Gojo never fails to demonstrate to his own nation and the rest of the world that he was a showman in addition to a prodigy.

He swung his body in fluid motions, bending his knees. He was able to move down the rink more quickly and farther as soon as both of his skates were facing in the same direction and parallel to one another. Watch as the man launches himself and lands on the back outside edge of the opposing foot. You see him use his free leg to assist with the takeoff. Gojo starts off across the rink once more; he has the appearance of a swan on a quest. Despite his solemn expression, he manages to pique the audience's interest by molding his face to suit his intended message.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a tap from another skater. "Hi!"You're — correct? The most beautiful man you have ever seen is revealed when you turn around. "Yes I am and you are?" Your smile was enough to break any man's heart, and it certainly broke Gojo's. His eyes caught you talking to the low-level figure skater during his back bend. To get your attention, Gojo slowly lifts his body upward while making sure to circle close to you.

You paid no attention to anything, not even when the crowd chanted his name. He saw you gazing passionately at the man, touching him, and grinning during his performance. He'll make sure that everyone is aware of your connection. Interviewers swarm Gojo as he emerges from the ice, asking him questions about the tournament, his emotions, whether he predicted Japan would win, and what he loves best about the Olympics.

He took great pleasure in watching you, even though you were hostile toward you. He enjoys watching you on the ice and knows that all of these eyes will be able to see and appreciate your beauty and brilliance, even if that's not a suitable answer to the question. “I had fun watching my girlfriend accomplish a quadruple axel on the ice, going above and beyond the norm!” The interviewers are going crazy over the exclusive insider information that Japan's Olympic candidates are a couple! “I'm very proud of her!”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Could you two come on my show to give more information about your relationship and experience in the competitive skating world?”

“Do you plan on marrying her?”

Gojo has a broad smile, but it widens when he notices you approaching from the corner of his eye. He ensured that there would be enough disturbance to draw in people from a 50-mile radius. He quickly puts his arm around your waist to hold you close once you are arms length apart.

He undoubtedly knows that you are extremely conscious of your appearance and would never intentionally make a fool of yourself in front of thousands of people. "Hello my darling, don't you want to tell them about how our love blossomed?" Even though you're terrified, you swiftly avert the interviewers' attention to the man by saying that he always tells story better than you. He makes fun of you and tells a made-up tale of jealousy, hate, and love. Gojo lets the interviewer know that you two are deeply in love, plan to be married, and want to start a family.

He knows when you get uncomfortable in his arms and knows it's time to finish the interview and express gratitude for the interviewers' time. Curses fly from your mouths towards Gojo the moment you two are out of earshot. You attempt to escape his hold, but it's firm and powerful, and he won't let go until he proves that you are his.

Because he would be pressed for time, he had everything set up before the competition day. After his performance, he asked to have a car ready for him so he could take you to the Olympic village, to his room, and finally to his bed. You sound even more enraged now that you're practically yelling at him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why in the hell would you tell them that?”

"I just want you to realize how much I adore you, now hush and enjoy." Gojo hurries you into the back of the tinted Range Rover, entering on the left side. He signals the driver to shorten the route and closes the partition — his hand finds contact too high on your thigh and his look is exceedingly strained. "I'm not your enemy but you treat me like one, why?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes at his assertion, "You've been tormenting me since we were seven, and you think I have no reason to want you away from me?" When you look at him, his expression is one of perplexity. Torment? I used to put gifts in your locker, and from what I remember, you threw them out." Your face flushed from the accusation. "Well, I'd have kept them if you hadn't said anything about my physique. "Everyday, you said something demeaning which encouraged other people to say hurtful things. Now you all are in my shadow, I’m winning the gold ."

You turned to face Gojo and said this with the biggest smile on your face, but as soon as you saw the tear streaming down his hot cheeks, your smile fades. "What's wrong, you?" Even with a hint of worry in your voice, your countenance suggests dissatisfaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize, but I'd like another chance." In all honesty, Gojo doesn't give a damn about earning your favor. All he wants is what any man would want.

To win.

Gojo makes sure to be the ultimate gentleman as he ushers you out promptly as the car arrives at the village. When he offers his hand to help you out of the car and opens the compound door for you, he can see you're nervous and cautious because you pause. To be honest, you felt anxious at every turn, and when Gojo came up behind you, his arm clasped tightly around your waist. You didn't know why you two were at the compound without your coaches, or what he wanted, but you weren't enjoying it.

When he arrives at his room, he stops at the entrance and looks at you intently. "I set everything up for you because I want you to know how special you've been to me," he says as he opens the door. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla greets you, along with the sight of candles and petals scattered on the corridor floor. Gojo releases his hold on you as his hand travels to your lower back and softly presses you inside his room.

Although your instincts are going haywire, the environment appears in the opposite way. When you step fully into his room the corridor floor is only the tip of the iceberg. Gojo, rather, the person he hired to arrange the space, created a lavish pallet on the floor and surrounded it with a heart made of flowers. accompanied by a bouquet of flowers and a selection of finger appetizers. There are images of you from previous competitions, including ones where you lost, hanging on the walls with the term winner printed on them.

"Do you Iike it?" The pleasure on his face is palpable. In a normal situation, you would do anything to erase Gojo Satoru’s smile, but right now, it would be bittersweet. The amount of work he put in is both sweet and a little alarming, given that several of the images on display were taken when he was alone himself in the booth. You feel the silence begin to take on an unsettling note, so you turn to nod your head at the man, a small grin on your lips.

“Sit down, try the foods. I’ll be back with drinks!” Gojo disappears down the corridor and out the room door leaving you and your rapid heart alone. Thoughts were swirling in your head.

You could just leave.

What does all of this mean? I mean he did give you gifts when you were kids but you just chalked it up to him trying to buy you and throw you off your game.

Does he actually like you? Could it have been your announcement about you leaving?

You sit down on the pallet allowing your weak legs to rest and distract yourself with the white chocolate covered strawberries. Halfway through the patch and uncontrollable anxiety, Gojo comes in with a drink tray with two bottles of martell cognac l'or de jean and two glasses. “I see you enjoyed the strawberries, I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch” he places the tray on the pallet and sits extremely close to you.

You take a seat on the pallet, allowing your ailing legs to relax, and use the strawberries coated in white chocolate as a distraction. Gojo enters with a drink tray with two glasses and two bottles of Martell Cognac L'Or de Jean halfway through the patch and uncontrollably anxiousness. He lays the tray on the pallet and sits quite close to you, saying, "I see you enjoyed the strawberries. I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch." He picks up a piece of beef and dips half of it in the homemade ranch.

“Open” you look at the man as if he grew three head and laugh. You try to take the meat, saying, "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself," but Gojo pulls his hand back and gives you a stern look. Without a second thought you open your mouth to allow the man to feed you. Not only did you let him feed you once but the whole plate of beef along with the miso ranch.

Surprisingly, the beef is really soft, and when mixed with the miso ranch, it is exquisite. Gojo fed you the trend of white meal options, asking you what you thought of whatever he served you next and ensuring you finished at least half. You attribute it to his big ego, and he is still making whatever this is about himself, albeit in a minor way.

You begin to feel lighter, and your discussion with him has become comfortable, flirtatious even. Only when he places his hand on your thigh does your body react.

Your face is now hot, your mind is muddled, and his hand rubbing your thighs makes you want him to move his hand up higher under your skirt. You clear your throat and remind yourself who you’re with. "So, why did you actually do this? I didn't expect Gojo Satoru to be romantic” he hasn't taken his gaze away from you, but appears to be getting closer.

“Because you’re leaving and I know I won’t be able to stop you but I want to give you something to think about while you’re 17 thousands miles away.” It's the first time you've truly appreciated his appearance; he has subtle muscular physique. His lips appear smooth and plump, while his jawline is sharp. And his eyes? Women who testified about losing themselves in his gaze weren’t lying.

As your stare deepens, Gojo notices and seizes the opportunity to slide his hand up your leg and under your skirt. You pretend not to notice the precarious situation you've placed yourself in. Truthfully, all you want is for him to be beneath your skirt, to slide your panties to the side, and finger fuck you. Despite your increased heart rate and anxiety you don't stop him.

"Strip for me, princess," and your body becomes frigid instantly, making you appear almost ashamed. His eyes narrow as he leans in to whisper to you how much he wants you, how amazing you are, how he put this whole thing up for you, and how he begs you not to waste this lovely night. “You’re the one who let me put your hand up your skirt, don’t you want it?” You started to stammer and your pussy's heartbeat is becoming unbearable, but are you going to let this man defile you after he has attempted to humiliate you and make you feel inferior?

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs at your apprehension He starts to stand up, but your hand catches his arm and stops him instantly. "No, I think I want—" Before you can even finish speaking, Gojo covers you with his lips and hands. His thin fingers are hurrying through your clothing, admiring every inch of your body and snapping a mental image of your exposed breasts and pussy. His touch is light but frenzied and every kiss feels like it’s scorching your skin leaving an imprint on you.

Your body reacts beautifully to him which makes him hungry for you. Gojo is above you, staring down at you as you lie flat beneath him. Your gaze is locked on him, as though you're trying to assert your power and take charge of the circumstance in an effort to look less desperate and eager. He smiles and ask how much do you want it— with a cunning look on your face, you glare at him and repeat his question. The young man chuckles at you and pushes your legs apart by swiping his palm behind them.

Once your legs are spread, Gojo places his face close to your pussy, basking in its magnificence. "Is all of this for me?" He says before swiping his tongue through your slit. Your legs snap without warning, but his grip keeps you immobile. He revels in your flavor, the way your body heats up, and the way you try to hide your pleasure in your . This time, he didn't want to come up for air; he wanted to be buried in your wetness and hypnotized by your moans.

Your skin feels as like it is being scorched by every kiss and lick to your clit and hole. Gojo commands you to hold your legs up so he can stick two fingers into your dripping hole and curls them to give you the most ecstasy possible. He may be selfish, but he's definitely not when it comes to pleasure. You abandon your position to position your legs on his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his snow-white hair.

"Gojo~ I need- my head..I can't," you say as your legs start to tremble and your eyesight becomes white from the pleasure that has been building up. “You can take it princess, just hold on a little longer for me” he knows that he won’t stop until you've created a mess; you begin to urge the young man to stop so you can regain your breath, but he doesn't hear you at all. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and hums at the sight.

You have a face of pure bliss, your eyes are closed and your hair is starting to stick to your sweat covered body. Gojo has an unrelenting pace — you could do nothing but focus on releasing yourself on his blessed fingers. All he can hear after coming up is your ragged breathing which forms a smile on his face. “I would ask you how everything was but I can see you thoroughly enjoyed yourself”

“You fuck like a virgin who just got some for the first time.” Gojo smile is immediately wiped off his face. You sit up on your elbows but he pushes you back down and pulls out his angry throbbing member. “A virgin huh? Let me lose my virginity with you then” without warning he slides himself through your gummy walls. Now hovering over you, Gojo uses his hands to push one leg up and bend the other to your side. His face is beet red and you can tell he’s enjoying himself more than you are right now.

You want to fuck him, you can’t deny how he has you begging for him to move, yet everything feels forced in your mind. As your face starts to well up with tears, he notices and bends in to get near to your ear. "Aw, don't cry, I'll make it all better, okay?" you nod your head, and he replies "good girl.”

As much as he loves to tease you, he can no longer control himself. Although he intentionally uses deep, languid strokes, the louder your moans the quicker he thrusts into you. He's been saying in your ear all along how gorgeous, wet, and tight you are. How ever since he met you, he's been dreaming of this and wants to be the one man who can win your approval.

You become this lustful shell of yourself that just wants him to consume you, and everything begins to feel like an out-of-body experience. You cry out in desperation for him to go deeper and use you till he is unable to. When he lets go of your legs, you encircle them around his torso while wrapping your arms around his neck forcing his face into your neck.

Your mind is foggy and all you can think about is using your legs to drive him inside of you and lock him in place as Gojo takes advantage of this opportunity to leave as many markings on your neck as possible, intensifying the pleasure you're experiencing.

The young man is breathless at your actions and he makes a mocking tone saying you’re a desperate slut aren’t you? how about I give you something to remember me by”. He lifts his body up untangling your legs from his torso placing both of his palms behind your knees to extend them to the sides of your head, you whine at the lack of contact but he calms your hunger by pounding into you. Even if the action took you by surprise you start to moan and praise the man for fucking you so well.

The young man is breathless at your actions and remarks in a mocking manner, "You're a desperate slut, aren't you?" What if I gave you something to carry me with you forever? You whine at the absence of contact as he lifts his body up and separates your legs from his torso, extending both of his palms behind your knees and push them to the sides of your head. Gojo slams into you stifling your hunger. Even if the action took you by surprise, you start to moan and praise him for fucking you so well.

His climax happens quickly when you mutter, "I-I may just stay for you," in a breathless manner. He closes his eyes in an effort to continue for as long as possible considering he feels his balls getting tight. He desires to relish each instant spent within you, the way your walls enclose him, the firmness with which your hands clasp his arms, and the volume with which you utter his name. Gojo leans back toward you abruptly, giving you a passionate kiss and cums inside of you. Though you're mentally panicking out about the lack of protection, you quickly forget about it as he releases your hold on your limbs and turns you onto your tummy, telling you to lift your ass.

"That fat ass has to get love too, princess, don't be shy." Your embarrassment is the only reason for the heat that is starting to appear on your face. He scoops you up by your hips and slams into you, rolling his eyes at your hesitancy. He is aware of your sensitivity, but you wouldn't be aware of Gojo's struggle to endure the pain in order to prolong this time. Your ass jiggling with each thrust has him spellbound, and as he slides out of you to slam into you again, his dick is drenched.

At this moment, your pussy is hurting and you're crying, but the heatbeat is becoming worse. Then it dawns on you that he is the only one who can stop the excruciating feeling underneath. Your mind is immediately repulsed by the idea. Gojo Saturo, of all people, fucking you senselessly is shameful, but the young man wipes that notion away as soon as it occurs by grabbing your hair with one hand and playing with your clit with the other around your waist.

You were too high and fucked out to realize that Gojo had taken the remote and turned on the television before seizing you. You were so overstimulated that your legs were trembling, and your tears were blurring your vision. "Gojo, please, I just can't handle it any longer." The teleprompters are now announcing the male single winners, “Just let them announce the winners pretty, if you win I’ll give you a present okay?”

Your body became heavy and you can feel your thighs become wet from your climax and hear his win being announced. All he could hear from you now is sobs begging him to give you a second, this is what he wants, for you to break down on his dick. It goes without saying that Gojo takes home the gold, he saw the camera move to his coach; who was very upset over his absence and had a stone-cold expression on his face.

He didn’t want his movements to be soured by the display and leans his head back in bliss. He’s beyond sensitive and doesn’t want you to see the tears coming out of his eyes to. Not only did he win literally but he’s achieving his life long goal of ruining you. His next words are winded, “make sure you come back in nine months for your next present princess.”

Leaning his head back in delight, he didn't want the event to ruin his moves. His sensitivity is immense, and he would prefer that you not see the tears welling up in his eyes. Not only has he literally won, his lifelong ambition to ruin you has been achieved. He continues, "Make sure you come back in nine months for your next present, princess," in a taunting manner.

You continue to sob as Gojo bullies your overworked cunt, cumming again coating your tantalizing walls in white. He lets you go and once you hit the pallet your world goes black. Waking up you notice the space around you is pitch black, you attempt to get up and survey the surroundings but your body is incredibly sore.

You sob on and on as Gojo abuses your overworked cunt and once more covers your alluring walls in white. After he lets you go, you strike the pallet, and everything goes dark. When you wake up, you discover that the space is pitch black. You want to stand up and take in your surroundings, but your body hurts so much. From your head to in between your legs, you look and feel around for a light or at least your phone.

You jump back and scream as soon as you feel warmth and skin when you reach to your left. Your head is throbbing and you try to recollect the last few hours, but when you discover you can't, it just makes you feel more anxious. You stand up despite the fact that your legs are weak and sprint to the closest corner to make yourself appear smaller. Your final recollection is leaving the ice and talking with the interviewers. Besides that, you don’t know where you are, why you’re naked and who that is laying next to you.

“Why are you yelling princess, it’s late.”

Princess? When you hear the voice, your blood starts to boil, and you start to remember what transpired. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! GOJO SATORU YOU WAKE THE FUCK UP AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED," the man gets out of the duvet and moves across the room to turn on the light. He can't stop laughing when he sees you in the corner. "Princess, get up. I got you something."

The man walks to the nearest dresser, throws you in the shorts and shirt, and walks to the bathroom, seemingly unaffected by your outcry. It's amazing how calm someone can be when he's clearly done you some harm. But you get dressed immediately, grab your stuff from his room, and run out of there. "You sick bastard, I hope you know that I'm going to the authorities." A flurry of flashes from microphones and cameras jammed against your face greets you as soon as you open the door.

Questions about why you were in Gojo's room, whether you were actually unwell or if you skipped the rest of the competition to spend time with him, and why you were leaving in his clothing suddenly burst out of the seemingly small gathering. The sensation of his arms enveloping you, his naked chest resting on your back, and his murmur in your ear, "Gold winning Olympian misses her win to share intimate time with her new boyfriend," further intensifies your feelings of overwhelm. “I believe that is a catchy headline.”

Gojo got what he wanted, attaching you to him forever, hopefully in more ways than one.

[luffington]

paradise circus ♡

➤ summary: Corazon gets extra needy when he smokes weed. (18+)

➤ pairing: donquixote rosinante (corazon) x gn!reader

➤ word count: 945

➤ warnings: modern AU, drug use, oral (m receiving), established relationship, fluff

➤ notes: lil stoner bf cora brainrot :D title is one of my favorite strains of weed! feedback is appreciated as always <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Rosy pink and ruby red hues of light illuminated the otherwise dark apartment, midnight city streets lying quietly outside. Slow and rhythmic classic rock reverberated throughout the room — Corazon’s “setting the mood” playlist. The air reeked of marijuana and overly fragrant candles fighting for their life to diffuse the scent. You sunk deeper into the plush cushions of your boyfriend’s living room couch, head hazy and drowned in music. Your slightly unfocused gaze fell on the blonde man sitting on the carpeted floor in front of you, tall frame hunched over a coffee table as he rolled the second joint of the night. A quick swipe of his tongue sealed the rolling paper and he proudly showed you the final product with a goofy grin.

Corazon shuffled backwards until he settled between your legs, back pressed against the couch and head lying in your lap. He looked up at you with puppy eyes and the unlit joint resting between his plush lips. You chuckled and grabbed his heart-patterned lighter — Corazon and fire did not mix, and you tried your best to keep it out of his control when you were together. 

Fire ignited the clumsily twisted end of the joint. The blonde’s pretty maroon eyes fluttered shut as he took a long, lung-filling drag, leaning forward to exhale a long stream of smoke before returning his head back to your warm lap. 

“Thank you, angel,” he sighed with a smile. His sexy baritone voice sent pleasant vibrations throughout your body. Slender fingers brought the joint to your mouth and you noticed that it was already stained with a ring of dark red lipstick. You inhaled generously, welcoming the calming sensation that flooded every cell of your body. 

Your boyfriend always loved physical affection, but he got extra clingy when he was high. Sitting beside you on the couch, lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders and keeping your bodies pressed together. There was some bad Netflix original movie on the TV in front of you — your brain was too fried to follow the convoluted plot, and Corazon wasn’t even attempting to focus, too busy nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a cat and mumbling about how warm and soft you are. You slipped off his red beanie to pet his feathery hair and soothingly scratch his scalp. He almost purred. 

Blindly grabbing at the ashtray on the table, not daring to move away from you for even a moment, his fingers finally settled on the halfway-burnt joint. The blonde took another hit and exhaled the wispy smoke into your parted mouth. You moaned into the kiss, lips moving against his languidly. He tasted like sugary sweet cherry coke mixed with the strong earthy aftertaste of marijuana and old cigarettes. It was addicting and made your mind swirl. 

Weed inevitably made him horny. Long legs spread wide, the waistband of his sweatpants pulled down just enough to free his cock, already at full hardness after a few strokes. The movie was long forgotten and put on mute, but the light from the screen still flickered across his beautiful features.

“You’re so good at this, baby…” You’d barely touched him and there were already stars in his glazed-over eyes. He let out a delicious high-pitched mewl when you flattened your tongue and dragged it from the base of his dick to its flushed red tip. 

His long and pretty dick was always hard to swallow, stretching your throat to its limit, and especially now that the weed had made your mouth bone-dry. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, running the tip of it along his slit the way you knew he loved. He threaded his fingers in your hair but didn’t apply any pressure, letting you take things at your own pace. Sometimes he liked to hold hands when you sucked him off — he said it made it more intimate. You thought it was adorable.

It only took a few minutes of your warm mouth wrapped around Corazon’s length to unravel him into a whiny mess, occasionally bucking his hips into your awaiting throat. He tried his best to restrain his movements – he would never forgive himself if he hurt you – but you just felt so fucking good. The blonde attempted to muffle his embarrassingly wanton noises with the back of his hand, but you tugged at his sleeve insistently. Pulling off of his cock for only a moment to tell him how pretty his voice was, how much you wanted to hear it. His face flushed red and precum beaded at the tip of his dick. 

You hollowed your cheeks and slurped noisily at his cock, stroking the base at a lazy pace. His labored breathing and increasingly louder moans signaled his approaching orgasm. “I’m so close,” he panted. “G-gonna…” That was all the warning you got before ropes of warm cum coated your mouth. You savored the salty taste and continued to suck him through the aftershocks of his climax, throat constricting around him until he was shaking from oversensitivity. When you pulled away, a thick string of saliva connected your lips to his cock.

“Sorry I finished so soon,” he mumbled shamefully. In response, you climbed into his lap and grabbed his cheeks and kissed him passionately. He whimpered at the lingering taste of his own cum. He broke the kiss and brought the mostly burnt out joint to your lips again, black ash spilling from the end and falling onto his fluffy black hoodie (which thankfully didn’t burst into flames). He watched you inhale with a lethargic smile and a dopey, loving expression. “Can I return the favor?"

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ FLIGHTY

tw. uncle!satoru, incest, age gap, breeding, coercion, dirty talk, praise, brief choking, baby as pet name, some jealousy, degradation, corruption kink, sneaking around wordcount. 6.7k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @antique-remains ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning me and for being absolutely wonderful!! i really hope you enjoy your fic,, i had a blast writing it so i kinda went a little crazy with the word count but! hgdfsy listen i hear gojo satoru i jump into the deep end i hooopppee you enjoy it lovely!!! <33 and thanks a million to the beta readers ilY so much

gojo satoru x fem!reader

The door rattles with a loud noise as you make it two steps down the hall. Two whole steps before long arms wrap under your shoulders and you’re whirled around against an equally lanky body, while your giggles fill the hall. They echo down the old family house, pristine and proper, and give your mother a well deserved moment of rest as she rolls the suitcases inside. “Hey- There’s my favorite little squirt,” his lithe voice hums gleefully when you press a childishly sloppy peck onto his cheek and squish your face to his shoulder, and Satoru barely bothers to give your mom a quick smile before stealing your entire attention away and putting you into his neck with a smile.

“You gotta visit more frequently, nee-san. I gotta show my favorite niece what I’ve learned at monster school, don’t I?”

Your chubby cheeks glow hot as you parrot him. “Monster!”

“Your only niece. And you’re more than welcome to take a few babysitting shifts, Satoru. Lord knows I could use it,” the soft-spoken woman would then chuckle, and leave you to it.

That’s how it was, always. You remember finding the days where snow stuck to the ground and made the house feel so much toastier, the most lovely of all- no excuses, no exceptions. Not that you could give a reason as to why, back then. It was probably because winter meant family time and holidays and presents, and most of all, it meant packing everything up into the car and driving down for New Years. Without fail, a white winter meant Gojo Satoru — and without fail, you’d look towards him like a world faithfully orbits the sun.

You can’t thank Satoru enough for taking his role so gracefully, at the time. When it was still fun.

Now winter means being locked up in your room while that same man parades around a different princess each year, and makes your start to the new entirely unenjoyable. After a good few hours of hearing the drinking and talking grow louder and louder -and then eventually quieter again, you finally dare peak your head around the corner. Because if you’re lucky, uncle Satoru will have no self-control. And the copious amounts of alcohol that festivities require will leave him blissfully unaware of your scowl at the foreign pair of shoes by the door. Your bare feet pad on the floor as you make your way past the soft rumble of the tv, and into the kitchen to pop open your own box of cake, and another bottle of bubbles for yourself.

The frosting sticks to the roof of your mouth three bites in, and makes everything a lot more palatable. The smell of the obnoxious festive scented candles, the deep beats of the slow make-out music reverberating through the walls of his otherwise impeccable apartment. The knowledge that you’re meant to wait out the inevitable turnaround from festive cheer to loud moans down the hall as the countdown hits 0. It’s been this way for years now, and you find yourself wishing spring would come a little faster.

You’d never be so lucky, though. You drop the fork in surprise when long fingers sneak around your neck to squeeze gently at the soft parts of it, and a breath brushes over the shell of your ear. “Boo.” Festive cheer and a softer familiar musk overtakes your senses.

“Satoru, you dick,” you squeak out a little too loudly, halfway to turning when a strong arm wraps around your hips to allow him to slot a little closer to your back. He peers over your head at the cake, breath dusting over your hair. Uncaring, of course, about the level of appropriateness or the way it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Bit early for a late night snack, isn’t it? You could at least have asked your favorite authority figure to join you.” His smile gleams in the low light of the apartment like a million diamonds, white head of hair tousled and bed-head like. The hand on your hip squeezes ever so softly before you shake him off, and cross your arms over your chest in defiance.

“You’re barely an authority, let alone my favorite. Besides, aren’t you kept busy with… Keiko? Kyoko?”

“—Kimiko. Why?” It’s then you make the mistake of looking up into those perfect baby blues through the half-tinted shades, and despite your earlier frostiness, he still searches for a handhold on your shoulder, softly brushing his thumb along the collar of your shirt. He stares like he can see through you, where your heart beats wildly in your chest. You’d dare bet money that sometimes he definitely tries to. But the calculating glances that flick over your face are kept quiet by a faint hum.

“She’s gone home. I thought maybe we could celebrate New Years together this time.” Satoru is always smiling. It crinkles his eyes, seems to ooze out of him like syrup. He’s good at that. At feeling trustworthy. But— “We still have a good twenty minutes until the fireworks. Come celebrate. For me?” There’s no mistaking the way he leans in to nudge your face up and puts on an exaggerated puppy-like pout. Gojo Satoru is anything but trustworthy.

But hard lessons are slow to stick. You find your mouth opening almost like instinct, sugar-coated tongue running over your lips as he waits. “Fine, until after the fireworks. Only ‘til then.” His mouth corners go a little more cat-like when the grin grows further, and he rubs his heavy palm and long fingers over your head with a soft chuckle.

“Right? You’d never leave your poor old, lonely uncle Satoru alone on a special day, right?”

The couch is abandoned for a slower sort of swinging around the living room once the clock starts getting close, and Satoru places another flute of golden bubbles into your hand— grinning as you move to the beat. Try and resist as you may, Satoru has given you much to be thankful for. The heat of his hand back on your head distracts you from the way the drink goes down too quickly, letting him pick your hand into his to pull you closer. “Have you ever slow danced before, pretty girl?”

You don’t get to say anything before you’re in his arms, hands to his chest and quickly sliding down to wrap around him instead, swallowing down the stirring heat that hits when he chuckles. You must be crazy. Must be. Your heart feels like it’s banging in your throat. But Satoru rests his chin on your head into the embrace, and swallows you up into his arms. And your throat burns like a raging fire yet again. It isn’t like that. It isn’t like that. You’re the one making it weird, and you know it. But you can’t help the goosebumps when he presses a kiss to your crown, or when he pauses to look down at you.

Grinning like he’s got the world in his palm, he leans in to almost brush noses with you. “This is kinda romantic, isn’t it?”

“Gojo Satoru,” you immediately feel the warmth flare up on your cheeks and ears, eyes going wide. But the grin is back instantly, and he chuckles.

“Alright, don’t get your panties into a twist.” The air of his breaths dusts over your nose when he stares, and doesn’t look away. “You’re so obvious when you want something. It’s cute.” He’s awfully, disturbingly pretty. However weird it is to notice that about your own mom’s brother… you never were able to lie yourself out of that conclusion.

The clock ticks loudly, counting down. But you can’t tear yourself away, blinking blankly at the way he gives your face a once over, before those eyes find yours. Glittering brilliantly, pulling at your sanity. You did always adore him. The first few fireworks go off loud in the distance, when your own uncle Satoru dips down and kisses you. You freeze. Warm lips and tongue pressing into your mouth- he full-on kisses you and runs a hand along your neck to pull you into him. A muffled squeak makes it’s way out of you, warm tongue getting to taste all of him. You- you don’t stop it. When he pulls back, his mouth lingers over yours, and that devilish mouth whispers, “happy New Year, baby,” without any ‘sorry’s.

+

The flowers are already starting to bloom in the colorful pots that swing outside the windows when you nurse your own cup of tea, and don’t bother lowering your eyes when bright azures meet your gaze. There’s something there that tingles your tongue, faint memories biting at your conscious, but too swift to grab hold of. You can’t read him anymore. It makes the familiar glint in them feel anxiety inducing. The gaze shifts, and you feel your spine relax. All tall, perfect, unfairly casual grandeur of him goes back to entertaining your cousins and Megumi— and your attention is finally allowed to shift back to your mom.

“Deary me… That child seems like he’ll never grow up,” she softly chimes, turning your way to take your hands, “I bet you’re twice the adult he is.” Her slight frown is one of fondness though, of care and concern; all of which only makes your stomach drop further. Your mom’s so enamored with her tight-knit little dream of a family. She’s completely unaware, too. Of the deadly, treacherous words that your mind whispers to you when it knows no one’s watching. Your mother’s warm smile remains. “If you ever decide you can’t keep up with him anymore, you’re more than welcome to move back home, honey.”

“I know, mom— but I like Tokyo. I like my friends here, and- my job’s here, and I like my job.” Her hand makes an encouraging circle over the back of your hand, and she nods.

Her warm smile doesn’t keep away the cold flare that travels down your back though. “And you also like Satoru, for reasons I still can’t wrap my head around.” Her look over in his direction has you resolutely studying your lap instead, as heat travels back from your chest to your face. “Even when you were little, your uncle ‘Toru could do no wrong. It was infuriating at times…” You try to put on a smile when you feel her eyes return back to you, and let the cup bear the brunt force of your anxiety. “Now I just think it’s sweet. I know I couldn’t deal with his antics anymore, for even a few days.”

“He’s…” You trail off before you can even get started, and let your tongue swipe along your bottom lip to get rid of the pesky memory again. You feel like your moral compass has been compromised. Your stupid little crush was meant to go unacknowledged, and fade. No one was supposed to be any the wiser. Satoru was never meant to do wrong. He’s -what- exactly, you try to ask yourself. Sneaky? Childish? The reason you can’t look your own family in the eye without blushing like a schoolgirl?

Your heart blooms when you catch a glimpse of his smile as the beer bottle brushes his lips, and he finds your shape again across the room.

Before you get a chance to look away, uncle Satoru’s already calling your name again with that sing-songy tone that’s got you hooked; and pulls you out of your seat with a few slow blinks. “There’s my favorite girl.” He swings an arm over your shoulders, and invades your senses yet again. “It’s getting a little too stuffy in here for your liking, hm? Mind if I steal her for a while?” His sister barely gives him the tiniest of eyerolls before waving you both off. And the white-haired force of nature doesn’t even stop to ask you. He knows he’s right.

Before long, the glances of family get captured by other things, and the honorary member of your family gives you a knowing look that you mirror. Not that Satoru would let it stop him if he saw. You only just look away from Megumi’s grimace before you freeze into place. There’s the tiniest of kisses to the skin behind your ear where Satoru whispers in your ear. “I was really missing you, baby.” There’s a heat that spreads all over you as he continues, barely hiding his affections. “Whenever I see you… I just wanna…”

Your eyes go wide when you turn to stare at him, then quickly around at the rest of the guests. Luckily, everyone seems too preoccupied to notice the way he wraps his arm around your waist to steer you towards the front door. “What? I wasn’t done.” he chimes, eyes glinting over like the Chesire cat, “I wanna come annoy you, is what I was going to say.” Alarm bells should go off. You want them to signal your disaster. But no such thing happens, and the way his lips almost drag over your pulse makes your entire body feel like you’re filled with static. “You know uncle Satoru loves you. Step out with me for a bit.”

+

The miserable drum of rain has no way of drowning out the thoughts in your head. A heat-caused thunderstorm should just be a minor inconvenience, but it feels awfully telling about your current state. The string of messages of Satoru’s latest -what you can now assume is- ex blink back at you as you check the time again, and sink deeper into the couch. The apartment always feels a little too cold when you’re here alone. And sure, you’ve been living here too, but you’ve been on your very best behavior all this time. Taking up only the space he was willing to give.

So you sit in silence as the room gets darker and darker, and instead of checking up on work mails, you let the icy silence of the apartment sit beside you. The messages weren’t exactly frantic, but— the door clicks softly across the room, and the pitter patter of the rain on the skylight grows even more impatient. “Uncle ‘Toru,” you breathe as he drags his wet self in, only to suck your bottom lip into your mouth.

There’s only a few times you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing him like this. One was the first summer his best friend vanished into thin air, a shallow copy of your beloved left behind in its wake— and every few years after that. It drains all the color out of him, squeezes until there’s nothing left.

He looks drunk. He smells drunk too. But you still cross your arms and straighten your back, swallowing. “Ki-chan was worried about you. She says you two broke-”

“She’s right.” Satoru drops his bag by the tv, and unceremoniously kicks off his socks in the middle of the living room, slauntering towards the couch.

“Is that why you’re like this?” Your worry is undermined by a harsh snort and an equally unamused chuckle, before the white-haired man comes to a halt before you.

“Don’t be stupid. You and I both know it’s not.” His eyes are usually like the ocean on a summer day, bright, all-consuming, and peaceful— there’s nothing there when they land on you now. Just the dark, dreary image of a cloudy, uncaring vastness. “Get up, I’m trying to sleep here for the night.”

“I’m not leaving.” You’re not sure if the slight tremble in your voice is self-inflicted, but do your best to bite through the electric tension. “She also said that you’ve been saying all kinds of things that make no sense. Things about— me. And that’s why you guys broke up. She’s worried that you might try to do something to me.” Gojo Satoru is a lot of things. More things than a man with his constitution should be, all in all. Your light breath cuts the tension just enough for you to speak up again, staring up at him from your increasingly vulnerable position on the couch. “Well, will you?”

“Get up.” Before you have another chance to ask more, he takes you by the arm and pulls you up out of the couch in a split second, leaving you stumbling back. “Run off to your room now.” Smart, coherent thoughts leave you. Satoru looks like he’s hurting. Those long, white lashes and blue irises are no longer bright and understanding. They frame a simple look of distaste at the sight of you, and your rapid heartbeat falters. “I said, now.” As your tongue brushes your lips you search for something— anything— to say, but it seems he doesn’t want to let you. With large steps, he walks you back by your collar until your back hits the wall, and you stare up at him.

“Isn’t it bad enough that I already want you? What more do you need?” The cold, still wet touch of his thumb brushing your collarbones tingles down your entire body. “Tell me off. Hit me. Do something.” He’s basically begging now, through hard glares, teeth and a raspy voice. “Tell me off for treating you like this.”

You think you should. But all that you manage to say is a soft plea, eyes searching in the dark. “Uncle Satoru, I- I’m sorry.”

“Baby.”

His grip makes your shirt dig uncomfortably into your neck, but you barely feel it. Instead you raise your hands to cup his face, watching how the furrowed brows straighten out after only a few tight breaths. You mumble out a breath of his name, and allow him to pull you closer to his body until you’re pressed to his chest, face hidden against his collarbones. Until he leads you to look up at him and lets his lips brush over your eyelids, and the tip of your nose. “Your mom would kill me if she knew.”

You know him to be right. And still, you let his mouth meet yours. Meet and claim your tongue, hiking your one thigh up to allow him to melt against you. Rolling his narrow hips just a little too effectively against you. It’s way too much all at once, hot and cold meeting in the dark where his body grinds against you. You shouldn’t… allow any of this, right? But it feels too good to stop. Satoru clearly thinks so too when he grunts your name against your mouth, and his crotch rubs into your center.

It’s not hard to know what he’s thinking about as he drags his lips down the soft of your throat and sucks kisses into the skin. His strong fingers slide under your shirt to anchor at your waist, and leave goosebumps all over. “My pretty girl,” he ends up mumbling as his tongue makes shapes at the base of your throat, “you’re all mine. All fucking mine. Mh- never gonna let anyone have you.” It feels so good. Hearing that, however distorted by the moment— makes you feel like you’re floating. So much so, that it scares you. To think anyone would have such power over you.

Satoru goes in for another kiss, but you end up sliding out of his arms by mere chance, panting and shivering from the wet hands all over you. You take one single deep breath, and rush off down the hall.

+

When you sit at dinner the next day, rolling your veggies around your plate as you cast him weary glances from under long lashes, Satoru doesn’t falter. Doesn’t even blink out of place once, like the night before was just a dream. You’d really believe the slight ache of a hickey at the base of your throat to be an unlucky bruise, if you couldn’t notice the faint glances your way. After a while, his telltale grin slips back on when you startle at his voice, and he points his fork towards you. “You’re acting weird, you know that?”

“I- I’m acting weird?” Your voice pitches up almost comically, and his gleeful chuckle has your heart racing despite yourself. “W- about yesterday-”

“I’m taking you somewhere tonight.” Though the interruption should annoy you, he looks so content and smug as he stuffs the last of his food into his cheek, that you can only frown. His hand runs through his mess of white hair, noisily smacking his food as if to make a point. When you don’t immediately respond, he nods to himself, before leaning in. “I woke up with the worst headache of my life, I’ll have you know. But I’ve gotten over myself, I promise. And now I just want to hang out with my favorite niece.”

“Only niece,” you end up parroting, clenching and unclenching your hands into your skirt. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Call me ‘uncle ‘Toru’ again, and I’ll tell you.” You never tell him no.

As you walk through the hall with slow steps, the light falls like broken petals through the paper walls and casts everything in a hazy glow. For all your protests, uncle Satoru follows close behind, chirping all kinds of encouragements, giggling most of the way through. The lazy patterns he draws on your shoulders with his thumbs, or the brief brushes of his nose along your cheek, kisses behind your jaw— it all should make you feel a lot guiltier than it does. Instead you’re just wound up, skin tingling with every touch the longer it lasts.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re here now?”

He hums that melodic agreement, before pointing you towards the rather familiar door at the right. “If you go in there, I will.” At your slight frown, he only presses on. “I promise. Come on, trust your favorite uncle.”

“You’re not my favorite.”

His voice grows low as his lips brush your ear, and those strong arms start gliding down the sides of your back. “Liar.” The kiss that is pressed to your pulse is slower this time, humming in your throat and making you swallow your words. His mind hasn’t changed after you ran out. Instead of focusing on that- on him, you reach for the door and slide it open, finding your and Satoru’s room barely changed at all. His hands come to press at the sides of your hips, long fingers trekking all over the skin he can reach. “I’ve been thinking for a while now…” His playful voice dips a little lower, and your breathing grows slower and slower. “I always meant it when I said you were my favorite... but-”

“But it’s a little different now, hm, pretty girl? When did you change so much?” Those hands that start sliding up along your thighs to hike your skirt up to your belly, and though you try to keep it down with a little breath, he denies it. “You don’t like it? That I wanna see all of you?” The little hum to your soft throat makes you feel like you’re charged to the brim, crackling each time he moves. It’s unbearable, and yet, you couldn’t move a muscle if you tried. “Tell me that I’m a bad guy.”

You can’t focus on anything. His nimble fingers toy with the edge of your panties, and the puff of his breath sends a shiver down your neck. “W-why’d you take me to our old- ah- place?” Satoru doesn’t wait for you to catch up before the frilly fabric drags along your thighs. Your awfully wet underwear lands around your feet, and he leans in to nudge your face to his. Kissing you over your shoulder as his body covers you from behind, and his waist pushes up against you. His tongue steals your attention away from his hands just long enough to lose track of them before they’re on your tits, squeezing them and making your cunt clench in anticipation.

“Because I wanted to prove something.” He rolls his clothed waist against your ass and makes that awful feeling even worse, forcing a whimper out of you. And that mind-numbing fucking laughter returns before his hands start moving to your center. You’re not sure if you want to push him away or ride his fingers with the slow drag of rough fingertips along the inside of your legs— not that it’s up to you anyway. “You’re no longer that good girl that’d idolize uncle Satoru, right? You’ve started thinking about other things when I’m around, hm?”

Fingers slide through the embarrassing amount of wetness between your legs with another noise from him, pressing his hardening cock harder against you and grinding it against you- and you have to fight the urge to just get face down on the floor for him. “F-fuck, baby, you’re already dripping all over my hand. Does uncle ‘Toru turn you on?” Two prodding digits slide into your clenching hole as he grins against your cheek, and his free hand meanly pinches a nipple. “C’mon, tell me. Tell me how much you like me.”

“Mh-ack, I- li-like you.” He goes to pull his hand back but you reach for it, and push it back inside to have his hand palm rubbing up against your clit. “A lot, I like you a lot! Please.” The curl of his long fingers inside you is enough to have you shaking, leaning back against his chest with one shoulder, and hanging onto his wrist. It doesn’t take much to have him smiling into the hickey he’s sucking under your jaw, and fighting back your resistance just enough to start pushing another finger inside. The slight ache is almost instantly replaced with the pleasure of having your clenching pussy filled so full. Everything blurs a little when you reach back for him for support, and his strong hand fucks smoothly in and out of you. “Mhm, ah, ah, I love my uncle Satoru. Sa. To. Ru.” Slick runs down your leg and makes his entire hand sticky, and he hums in agreement.

“That’s a good little niece. Love riding my fingers like this? You’re shaking, baby.” He knows what it does to you, must’ve known for a while, when his voice is pressed to your skin— it leaves you a mess. You try to respond, but your tongue gets all tangled, and you can only whimper and nod as his fingers fuck right into the spot you need them to. Your back curls against him as your legs get shakier, and your poor clit is grinded against his palm until you can’t focus on anything else. It feels so good. Good, good, good, good~ You want to keep riding his fingers forever.

“Lay down for me,” he rasps when you really start rubbing back against his hand, pussy so messy and full and your lips glossy with spit— and you almost cry when he starts pulling back.

“No, no no nonono, uncle Satoru, please. I’m close,” you squeak, only to allow him to push you down by your shoulder and watch as he slots his fingers between pink lips. “Hm- I- can I cum? Please?” Your thighs rub together as you lay down, and Satoru kneels before you to pry them open wide enough to fit his shoulders between.

“Shh, lift your ass,” he quickly chants, getting comfortable between your legs as his hands pry you open, “let me taste my favorite pussy the way I want.” His devilish mouth is on you before you can register it, hot and instantly too much. Your puffy clit is laved in licks and sucks that hit the spot just right, and every nerve end fires in a way that no one else could ever accomplish. His hums and the brilliant glint of his eyes as he watches you tear up and moan, lifting your ass closer to his face as his tongue licks and fucks your dripping pussy. He laughs when eating you out so good your eyes cross, before latching his mouth around your overstimulated nub for real, and sucking the light out of your vision.

Your legs shake before you’re clenching them around his head with a long, high-pitches whimper and a string of moans that roll through your body— and Satoru just keeps going, until you’re twitching and you try to push him away. Your breathing is rapid and shallow as you blink the black spots on your vision away and loosen the grip you have on his hair, but your legs still shake as he brushes his thumb over your pussy without pity. “That’s one. Wanna see how many more I can get you to?”

“No,” you immediately squeak, making his smug grin grow even wider. “I wanna… first, wanna have you- i-inside.” Admitting it is different than thinking it. And you’ve thought it, too much to count- but it still heats your cheeks and ears upon seeing the way Satoru’s lashes flutter a little, and he pushes his pants down to take his flushed cock out.

“Yeah? You want your uncle Satoru’s big cock inside you?” His hand wraps around his thick length with a little hiss, sliding his hand over the swollen, dark pink tip as you watch. “Say it properly, and I’ll give it to you.” You roll onto your side to yank your shirt up over your tits, and impatiently shake your ass as you whine out a noise that barely seems to register as you. But you can’t help it. The buzz from your orgasm only made your belly hotter, slicking up your legs and ass and dripping for him- as he sits up on his knees so slide his pants down further.

“Satoru~ please.” His hand moves up and down a few times as he raises a brow, and knocks away your hand when you try to touch yourself. “Please, please, puh-lease~” Your voice cracks when you lay back instead, and knead your tit as you try to pull him closer by wrapping your legs around him. “I want to have- uncle ‘Toru’s cock. I want to have my own uncle’s cock, I love my uncle- and I want- to be his personal pussy to use~” Tears spring up in the corners of your eyes, so you close them. “Now please just put it in. I’ve waited long enough-”

A little chuckle breaks up your begging before he kisses you deep and greedily, and suddenly the hot head of his cock pushes up against your sopping entrance. “Want it so bad you gotta cry about it? Poor baby.” He just about pushes in the slightest bit, and takes a slow breath to stare into your eyes. Pretty. So fucking pretty, all of him. “Sorry I made you wait. Uncle will fill this little niece's pussy up, don’t worry.” Then he pushes in with a slow press on your tummy that makes you blink back tears, as his heavy, hot cock breaks you open a little further, along with your sanity.

The smack when he bottoms out is a brief relief, before he pulls back and uses those strong legs to start really fucking into you, nose to nose. “Letting your own family fuck your greedy pussy like this, look at you. I’m a bad influence, hm?” The weight of him, the brushing of his pelvic bone to your clit, the grip on your thigh and brushing of your tits and every brief brush of his lips over yours is enough to have that coil pull back so tight in your stomach too quickly. You dig your nails into his muscular back as each pap of his balls smacking against your slick-covered ass rings out in the room, and the white-haired man hums. “Uncle Satoru’s your favorite, say it. That you’ll beg for my cock until you go hoarse.”

He presses his nose to your temple, and pants against you- fucking with a rhythm that’s taking the breath out of you. You’re already going to cum again. “Say that you want uncle Satoru’s kids filling up your belly, ahg- go on— mhm, that tight, t-tight fucking pussy.”

“Yes, yes, I want my uncle’s cum inside! My favorite uncle’s ruining my pussy!” you squeak, and then cry out against his neck. “I’m gonna cum again, uncle ‘Toru. G-gonna- agh-ughn- p-please don’t stop.” The thrusts get even deeper if that’s at all possible, lifting your one leg up to grind the head of his cock against your cervix with the position he’s got you in, and goes to cup your pussy. And even that slight touch is enough to have your vision going black and white, head blanking as another orgasm rolls over you and locks your leg around his hips— but the fucking doesn’t stop even then. “Agh-mygodI-ah, ahgh-nh. Uncle Satoru.”

It’s too much, you’re entirely too hot and sweat is rolling down your temple and his chest, but his cock still drives home over and over again like he’s willing to break you in half. You don’t want him to ever stop. “Hearing that filth coming out of your mouth- ugh, mhm, makes me want to keep fucking you forever. For eternity.” His waist bumps your overstimulated clit each time he bottoms out, ring of white around the base of his cock before he throws his head back and moans out your name. “You can’t ever let anyone know how much uncle Satoru loves fucking his little niece, okay? F-fuck. How much I love ruining that little attitude of yours.”

Your both knees are pushes to your shoulders as he moves up, pulling out just a second to fuck between the sloppy lips of your pussy. “Been wanting to fuck you since you moved in. Can’t help but get hard when you’re around. Bad uncle ‘Toru, right?” The head of his cock is so swollen and flushed and dripping with your mixed juices, and he stares at you through narrowed, perfect eyes as he pushes back in and watches his cock disappear into the hot clutch of your pussy, swallowing it up like a whore. His lip is pulled between his teeth as he groans, and fucks harder and faster into you like you’re barely a toy. “But I don’t care. Uncle’s gonna fuck this pussy every day from now on. My pussy. Mine.”

You can feel him in your throat with the way he pounds your pussy until you’re raw, squeezing your throat between his long fingers as his heavy balls hit you. And his mouth covers yours, tongues back together and spit messily covering your chin by the end of it. You don’t think eternity will be enough.

+

There’s some kind of failsafe inside every human, isn’t there? And yours is simply malfunctioning at the wrong times.

The woman hanging off his arm is lovely. Mina, you think it is. She’s smart and pretty and accomplished, and her hair has that perfect commercial shine as it bounces around her shoulders. And Satoru is laying on the sweetness thick, from what you can make out between the giggles and shiny smiles. Underneath the obnoxious shades hiding his pearly gaze from direct view as he makes quick work of scanning the beach. It sits in your stomach with an uncomfortable rumble. Even though you know… It’s for show. It’s all just for show.

You do your best not to frown when he looks back over his shoulder for a second to drag his eyes over you. “We should play beach volleyball!”

And a soft chuckle from the person by your side agrees when you can’t be bothered to. “You got it!” The blond is smart enough to give you a softly encouraging grin that makes you feel vindicated in your exasperation, before you stick up your own thumb. You have no intention of watching Satoru leave hot handprints all over her skin. The young man beside you clearly notices your hesitation, because he smoothes a palm down your spine to straighten you up a little, before blowing out a long breath that makes you smile. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’ll keep him busy if you’d rather lay in the shade for a little longer.”

Kenji’s fingers softly brush along the small of your back, then teasingly slips them under the knot of your bikini, as his mouth comes to hover over your ear. “Or we could sneak away for a little bit and…”

“And get caught for indecent exposure?” you giggle over your shoulder instead of letting him kiss you, and grab for one of the books that had gone untouched earlier in the day to tap it on his head. “We can’t,” you breathe with a smile, and watch as he takes that as a challenge. Really, you’re not one for fighting fire with fire. That’s Satoru’s play, and you don’t have any intention of mistreating anyone. But … the adoring gazes and personal attention does make the whole ordeal a lot easier to stomach. So easy even, that you’re down in the toasty sand with him above and your chest rising and falling rapidly for a few blissful seconds, before the volleyball hits the both of you on the sides.

Your eyes snap over to the head of white hair when he clears his throat, and holds his hands up in mock apology. Serene, picture-perfect smile plastered on his handsome face. You click your tongue, and you can’t hold back the angry echo of his name in your head as he walks up. “Sorry, sorry, my bad! You guys coming or what?” This whole song and dance is just— so frustrating. Despite your best effort to keep it in, a slight tick in your brow still makes its way onto your face.

“You guys start without me,” you breathe after a few seconds of staring Satoru down, allowing Kenji to pull you up from the sand to dust you off. “I’m going to go grab the sunscreen and the coolers from the car.” Kenji makes an attempt to stand, but you wave it off in favor of putting some space between you and the tallest as his crystal eyes drill holes through you. “No, I got it. Thanks though.”

By the time Satoru’s “girlfriend” walks up and slips underneath his arm, he raises a brow your way, and the glitter in his eyes makes you convinced that he knows just as well as you do. You do your best to ignore him — them, but you can still feel the sting of him appraising you through those stupid shades. Asshole. You swing your hips as you walk away, kicking up sand every time your slippers bounce up.

At least the short walk allows for a moment to cool off, and collect your thoughts. There’s no sense in getting fed up. He’ll just get home and start cracking jokes like always, pretending like he didn’t do something wrong in the first place. Nevertheless, you allow yourself only a short sigh and admittance of defeat in the little game you play as you click the trunk closed again.

Before you turn and walk into a solid chest, almost scaring you skittering back against the hot surface of the car. Large hands descend on you, one to wrap around your waist and the other covering your mouth- before he leans down further into your space. “So, so grumpy all the time.” Uncle Satoru’s rough handpalm slides down to grab a handful of your ass before he lowers his face to yours into a languid kiss, tongue tasting vaguely like strawberry as he drags it over yours with a hum. “Stop trying to make me jealous.”

“I’m— I’m not! And ‘m not grumpy. I just don’t want to see you,” you end up breathing out, wrapping your arms instinctively around his broad shoulders when those long fingers start toying with your pussy through the awfully flimsy fabric. “Satoruuu~”

His chuckle is matched with the impatient way he rubs two fingers up and down along your slit, and slides his other hand down your smooth stomach to start peeling it all off. “Call me uncle Satoru, c’mon baby. You know what I like.”

You barely have a chance to place your hand over your mouth to keep quiet as he noses your bikini top out of the way to drag his pink tongue languidly over your puffy bud— and those baby blues find you through wispy, white lashes. “Uncle ‘Toru, unc-cle ‘Ru— You’re gonna get us caught.” He sucks part of it into his mouth and leaves a mean mark with his teeth, before grinning.

“Hmm. I don’t care.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[luvjunie]

— Unforgettable ( 1 )

part one • part two • part three • part four

pairing: e-1610!miles morales x fem!reader

contains: miles rizzing you up after knowing you for two seconds, a beef patty changing the entire course of trajectory for your life. nothing too major

summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 1,634

a/n: this was originally going to be one long fic but i decided to split it up, and i’m estimating around four, maybe five chapters in total. also, chapter one is cute but i thought i should let y’all know that two of them will contain some angst/conflict! this is the first series i’ve ever written so it won’t be the best, and i’m still deciding if i like how i mapped out the rest of the story so please bear with me if updates are a tad irregular 😅

next

To think, a damn beef patty is what started it all.

A beef patty that had tumbled out of your hands, down the sweater you’d just taken to the laundromat— your favorite one, at that— and onto the dirty bodega floor when a hard surface came in contact with you on your way to leave.

“Oh shit—“

“Jeez, what the hell man!”

You lunch gone and your good mood with it, your head lifted a great distance from the murder scene at your feet to meet the apologetic face of who had committed this unjust crime against your rumbling stomach.

“I am so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going…” The boy in front of you murmured sheepishly, palm dragging at the back of his neck.

Lips pursed, your forefinger and thumb pinched at the bridge of your nose as you willed yourself to refrain from cursing him out. New york already had enough of that, you decided as he continued apologizing.

“It’s my fault. I bumped into you, it’s fine.” you grumbled curtly, clearly irked. Shifting the blame onto yourself was your best attempt at keeping your anger at bay. The last thing you wanted to do was cut up in this nice man’s shop, especially not on a Sunday.

With a heavy sigh and a scratch to your brow, you crouched down and swiftly scooped the discarded meal off the floor with a napkin. Great, money down the drain.

“Let me buy you another one.” He said to the top of your green adidas beanie, palms pushed together to accompany his plea.

“No need.”

“I really wanna buy you another one.”

You shot up and tossed the remnants into the trash, your frustration evident in how much forced you used. “Dude, it’s—“

“I’m buying you another one.” he insisted, chin raising when he hollered at the clerk. “Yo, Lenny, lemme get another beef patty, man.”

He shuffled past you before you could decline again, the man behind the counter already sliding a fresh one past the register after having witnessed the run in.

You stared at the back of this stranger, brows furrowed incredulously. He was nice, which was unusual for someone in this city, so your innate response was to be annoyed at his persistence. People were always bumping into you and ruining your day, but no one had ever offered to fix it before.

“That’s the last one I got for the day, Miles.” Lenny, the owner of the shop informed apologetically, his Jamaican accent heavy on his tongue. He knew the boy usually came into his store around this hour for one thing, and it was always for one of his beef patties.

“It’s cool, don’t sweat it.” Waving him off, Miles slapped the cash down onto the counter and snatched the pastry up.

“Here,” He turned to you just as you were brushing your hands off onto your dark-wash jeans, breath held with what he hoped would be a peace-offering, extended out to you. “I’m sorry, again.”

You looked up at him, then back down at the patty in his hand before you gently accepted it, the pads of your fingers lingering in his palm when you did so.

“Thank you,..” trailing off, you blinked up at him, a silent request for his name. He was tall, kind of lanky, and had the prettiest brown eyes you’d probably ever seen. They stared back at you, appearing puzzled before he put the pieces together.

“Oh!— Miles.” he answered with a warm smile, hands tucking into the pockets of his jacket. It was green, your favorite color.

“Thank you… Miles.” you returned his smile with a smaller one, something about it contagious.

Caught up in the way you said his name for a moment, it wasn’t until you were already halfway out the door when he realized you hadn’t told him yours.

“Wait! I didn’t get your—“ he called out to the air, the bell on the shop’s door a taunt of his failed attempt. “Name.” he murmured, shoulders falling with a sigh.

He felt eyes on him and turned to the side, lips smacking against his teeth in annoyance at who’s stare he’d caught.

“Don’t be mad at me, man. You gotta step ya game up.” Lenny threw his hands up in surrender and stifled a laugh, shaking his head at the boy.

Even though he had nothing to be smiling about when he exited the small store—seeing as he was out of five dollars and still hungry—Miles found himself walking home that day with a smile etched onto his face, a little pep in his step and something to keep his mind busy.

Nothing happened, that was obvious, but for some reason he felt like this wouldn’t be the last time he saw you.

—

Exactly one thing was on your mind the next time you entered Lenny’s shop, and he already knew what it was before you’d opened your mouth to ask after approaching the register.

Well, maybe two things, but the second one wasn’t necessary to get into.

“Comin’ righ’tup, sweetheart.” He nodded at you.

“Thanks.” You smiled sweetly, idly tapping your hands against the counter during your short wait.

The white parchment paper cradling your all time favorite snack slid over to you a minute later. You paid quickly, your stomach rumbling just from smelling the savory treat.

Just as you went to turn around, you spotted that same boy who’d ran into you a week ago and nearly ruined your day. Miles, you remembered his name was, as you stuck an apprehensive hand out in front of you, patty pulled close to your chest and brows raised in warning.

“Chill,” He laughed, his hands shooting up in defense. “I’m out your way this time, promise.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, his playful demeanor rubbed off on you. “You better be.”

“Please don’t tell me you got the last one.” He pleaded with hopeful eyes, but wishful thinking never did much for him.

“She sure did.” Lenny called from behind the counter, eyeing Miles closely to see if he’d take the bone he threw. He then ticked his head to the side with a slightly widened stare, as if urging the disappointed boy to make a move.

“Woops.” Using your fingers, you ripped a piece off the patty and popped it into your mouth, shrugging as you brushed past Miles, who had just caught on to what the shop owner did for him.

With your back to him as you pushed the door open to outside, you missed the two fingered salute Miles shot towards the man as a thank you.

He followed after you, swiftly shouldering himself through the closing door and sliding outside, into step with you.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number for half of it.” He offered with a boyish grin, long legs able to keep up with ease.

You nearly choked, steps halting when you spun around to face him. What made him think you wanted his number? And maybe you did, because you definitely thought he was cute, but that was besides the point since he didn’t know that.

“Are you flirting with me?” you asked, and he perked up a bit.

“Depends. Is it working?”

You rolled your eyes. “How about my name first?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the side of the building a bit. “I kinda assumed that was a package deal, seeing as I’ll need something to save your contact under.”

Okay, you’ll admit it, that was smooth.

You put your hand on your hip, patty in the other with your head tilted in thought. “Somehow, I feel like this deal benefits you more than me.”

“That‘s possible.” Miles chuckled, and you can’t believe that’s all it took to convince you. How pretty he looked when he laughed. How good your name sounded rolling off his tongue when he’d repeated it back to stake it within his memory.

You quietly hummed to yourself, contemplating. You’d never accepted a guy’s advances this easily, and figured you’d test him in a way he’d most likely fail.

“Quick, what’s my favorite color?”

There was a pause.

“Green.”

Your jaw dropped. “What— How in the hell?” You gaped at him. “How did you know that?”

“You give away more than you know with your eyes.” He grinned. “Saw you eyeing my jacket last week, and you’re doing it again today. And your beanie, too.” With a raise of his eyes from yours, he pointed out the forest green hat pulled snug over your head and your hand mindlessly went to touch it. “But honestly, I was only like, seventy percent sure, so maybe you can call it a lucky guess.”

You quirked a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m checking you out now?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind.”

Well, you’d managed to lose at your own game, fair and square. Holding his gaze for a minute, you had to restrain a smile from splitting through your calm and collected facade and shooed away the urge with a clearing of your throat.

“Phone.” You held your hand out, beckoning him for it.

Fetching it from his pants pocket, he did the same to you with his other hand, palm upwards. “Patty.”

Huffing in frustration, you awarded him the half he earned and snatched the device, ignoring the triumphant look on his face as you punched your digits in.

—

It was pitiful. It barely took anything for you to take interest in a guy in general— but even if your standards were ridiculously high, there was no doubt that Miles would have weasled his way into your thoughts regardless.

You’d checked your phone at least six times in the past hour in hopes of seeing a text, coming up with unconvincing excuses like checking the time, or the weather— all while blatantly pretending to be oblivious towards the possibility that a message from an unknown number might just be there, too.

And then it came.

[Unknown]: Best patty I’ve had in a while. Food always tastes better when it’s not yours :)

He had you on your stomach, features pulled into a hopeful smile with your legs fluttering in the air off one message. You’d remind yourself to get a grip in due time.

Who’s this?

You knew damn well who it was. But you wouldn’t be who you were if you didn’t play hard to get.

[Unknown]: Damn, you forgot about me that quickly?

You clicked the info button in the top right corner of your phone and saved him as a contact before you replied.

Maybe. Remind me of your name again? Micah, right?

[Miles]: Okay, now that’s just hurtful. I do not look like a Micah!

You laughed to yourself at that, flopping onto your back as you typed a response. In the back of your mind you wondered if things would progress any further than this conversation.

But if only you could’ve time travelled and spoken to your future self, because she would’ve told you that forgetting about a boy like Miles Morales, or trying to, would be impossible.

tags: @cctoma

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Miguel O'Hara wanting to be around you

Request: Yes or No

I have a cold and its beating my ass but Midnight Beach should resume on mon or tues

~~~

He shouldn't be doing this. He should've stopped months ago. He was supposed to go in to this new dimension, catch the anomaly, and return to the headquarters. And he'd successfully caught the anomaly and sent them back. But he'd stayed behind in a world that wasn't his cause for a moment, just for a brief moment... He wanted to stop and take a breath. That small break brought him to a rooftop of an old apartment building.

It brought him to you.

The day had been cloudy and cool with a breeze drifting by occasionally. You'd been sitting on the rooftop of your apartment building with a small easel in hand and a paint-coated brush in the other. Your favorite hobby after a long, stressful work day. You hadn't noticed the figure perched up on the ledge meters away until you went to grab another color and spotted him. He looked like Spiderman, but didn't at the same time. The colors weren't right. His structure was too tall and muscular for the lanky man who spent his time saving the city. But something told you that is was alright, he meant no danger. So you returned to painting and he watched.

After that, it became a habit. Miguel knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't have been spending time with a civilian, much less one from another dimension. He just couldn't help it. You were so... calming. You hadn't looked at him with fear or that awestruck fan glint. You had regarded him as if he were a neighbor. And for a man used to being feared or glared at, it felt good to be seen again.

He often transported to your world, to your rooftop. You'd be there just about every day. You always acknowledged his presence with a nod but kept to yourself. No questions, no prodding, no begs for selfies or autographs. A nod and sometimes a smile. He never returned the gestures, only watched from a distance. Never too close but never too far.

It took him four months to grow comfortable enough to get closer. Each week, he'd perch on the ledge just the slightest bit closer, craning his neck to catch a sight of the easel and holding your gaze when you looked at him. Until he was close enough to watch your face as you painted.

Which led him to today, where once again, there he was. Sitting on that damned ledge and watching you paint. He'd seen the paintings come and ago. They were often of the city or the sky. Sometimes you'd just splatter paint on the canvas and make it up as you went. He liked watching the process. He liked watching you relax over time. The lines between your brows would soften, your shoulders would lower, you'd go between firmly holding the brush and letting it hang loosely between your fingers.

"I have something for you." His eyes snap up from the half-finished canvas. He stays silent and still, his body going rigid. He liked your voice- Ay, Dios, he liked your voice. His finger twitches and he thinks about leaving the rooftop and returning to Nueva York. Back to his office where he doesn't have to worry about seeing you, where he would forget about you. But he stays. You lean down and your fingers shuffle through the array of canvases you'd brought up with you today.

You hum quietly and pull a canvas out from the row, tilting it over so he can see. It's him. A painting of him. "I've never really drawn a superhero before," You speak and chuckle. "But I tried."

"It's..." His voice is uncharacteristically soft and he reaches out with careful hands, gently taking the sides of the canvas and staring at him. It's like staring into a mirror but this time, he doesn't loathe what he sees.

"Glad you like it, Spiderman."

[mya-valentine]

The One That Got Away (Almost)

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru, used to being admired by everyone, becomes obsessed with you, the one person immune to his charm. His efforts to win your attention grow genuine, and he unexpectedly falls for you, realizing that sincerity, not power, wins your heart.

The first time Gojo Satoru met you, he was convinced it was a fluke.

You were the new hire at Jujutsu High, assigned to assist with logistics and administration. It wasn’t a flashy role, but one that required intelligence, patience, and an unshakable demeanor—qualities you embodied effortlessly. When you were introduced to the faculty, Gojo, being Gojo, strolled into the room with his usual swagger, sunglasses perched on his nose, a mischievous grin already in place.

“Ah, so you’re the infamous newbie. Welcome to the Gojo Satoru Experience! If you’re lucky, I’ll even let you buy me coffee later.”

You didn’t even glance up from your paperwork.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Gojo,” you said, your voice polite but distant. “Please keep your requests professional.”

There wasn’t even a flicker of reaction on your face. No blush, no stammering, no giggle—nothing. You were like a fortress. Gojo blinked, momentarily thrown off. Most people fawned over him, or at least tried to mask their awe. But you? You treated him like he was just… another coworker.

Naturally, this only made him more interested.

Gojo had never been one to back down from a challenge. The more indifferent you seemed, the more he leaned into his antics. He began showing up in your office unannounced, leaning casually against your desk with his long, lanky frame.

“[Name], I was thinking we should grab lunch. You know, team bonding and all that. My treat!”

“No, thank you. I already brought lunch.”

Undeterred, he’d try again the next day.

“[Name]! I brought you a coffee. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.”

He even started showing off during training sessions, making dramatic displays of his cursed techniques in the courtyard, fully aware you could see from your office window. But every time he glanced toward you, hoping to catch you staring, you were buried in your work, utterly unfazed.

It was infuriating.

“She’s like… a brick wall,” Gojo groaned one evening to Shoko, who was thoroughly amused by his plight.

“Maybe she just doesn’t like arrogant man-children,” Shoko quipped, blowing smoke from her cigarette.

“Not possible. Everyone likes me.”

“Clearly not everyone,” she replied with a smirk.

If subtlety didn’t work, Gojo decided he’d have to crank things up a notch.

He started leaving little gifts on your desk—things he thought you’d appreciate, like rare snacks, handmade trinkets, or even a limited-edition plushie from your favorite series (he’d overheard you mention it to Ijichi). But when you walked into your office and saw the plushie, all you did was sigh and set it aside.

“You’re a hard nut to crack, [Name],” he muttered one day, leaning in dangerously close while you sorted through mission reports.

“Maybe I’m just not interested,” you replied evenly, still not looking up.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Not interested? That was a first.

But instead of deterring him, it only fueled his determination.

Weeks passed, and Gojo’s antics grew more elaborate. He once conjured a barrier of shimmering infinity around your office, claiming it was to “keep you safe,” though everyone knew it was just an excuse to show off. Another time, he brought you a bouquet of cursed energy-infused flowers that glowed faintly in the dark.

You finally snapped.

“Gojo,” you said sharply, your tone slicing through the air.

"Yes, [Name]?" he replied, visibly perking up like an eager puppy.

“Why are you wasting so much time on me? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Your words weren’t harsh, but they were firm. For once, Gojo didn’t have a clever retort. He rubbed the back of his neck, a rare flicker of vulnerability crossing his face.

“I guess… I just like being around you,” he admitted. “Even if you act like I’m invisible.”

Your expression softened slightly, though you didn’t let it show. “You’re not invisible, Gojo. You’re just… not as irresistible as you think you are.”

It was the truth, plain and simple. And yet, hearing it made Gojo’s heart race in a way he hadn’t expected.

Gojo’s initial interest in you had been shallow, born of his own ego and curiosity. But as time went on, he began to notice the little things about you—the way you always stayed late to ensure everyone’s paperwork was in order, the quiet wit hidden in your rare remarks, the subtle kindness in the way you treated the students.

One evening, as he watched you from afar, something clicked.

This wasn’t just a game anymore.

It happened on a rainy night. You were walking home when a sudden downpour caught you off guard. Without an umbrella, you resigned yourself to getting soaked—until a familiar figure appeared beside you, holding one over your head.

“Gojo?” you asked, startled.

“What, you think I’d let you walk home in the rain?” he said, grinning.

For once, he wasn’t teasing or showboating. His tone was genuine, his smile softer than usual.

You hesitated before replying, “Thank you.”

The walk was quiet, but comfortable. For the first time, you saw a side of Gojo that wasn’t all bravado. And for the first time, he saw a flicker of warmth in your eyes.

A few weeks later, Gojo found you alone in the school courtyard, staring up at the sky. He approached cautiously, uncharacteristically nervous.

“[Name],” he began, his voice unsteady.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I… I think I like you. For real. And not just because you’re the first person to ever ignore me,” he added quickly. “I like you. The way you are. The way you drive me insane but also keep me grounded.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your expression unreadable.

Finally, you sighed. “You’re exhausting, Gojo.”

The Confession

His face fell slightly.

“But…” You smirked, just a little. “I think I like you too. For real.”

For a moment, Gojo just stood there, stunned. Then, his trademark grin returned, brighter than ever.

“I knew it! You do like me!”

You rolled your eyes, but the faint blush on your cheeks didn’t escape his notice.

From that day forward, Gojo’s antics didn’t stop—they just became less about impressing you and more about making you smile. And, to his surprise, he found himself smiling more too.

Because for once, Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive—had found someone who made him feel like just Satoru. And he wouldn’t trade that for the world.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[dadddybangtan]

mtl: txt being into car sex

pairing: txt x gn!reader

cw: smut, mdni

word count: 0.3k

a.n. it’s been a couple months since my last post. i’m in a relationship that doesn’t force me to use fanfic as escapism lmao!! something just inspired me to make this… hope you enjoy <3

MOST

beomgyu,,,

he loves everything about car sex. driving around aimlessly as he teases you, finding a discreet parking spot, hooking up a playlist to the radio, undressing you and trying not to get caught. the thrill of it all turns him on. his favorite part is when the windows get foggy and blocks out the rest of the world. it’s just you, him and your bodies loving each other on his leather seats.

yeonjun,,,

he likes car sex for the convenience. he’s a busy man and sometimes a quickie in his car on the way home from work is the only way he can hookup with you. but he knows how to spice it up. the confined space only brings you two closer together. and the threat of getting caught makes you both more desperate for each other.

taehyun,,,

he’s in the middle of this list because he likes his privacy and space. he likes the comfort of a bed, a couch, even a shower or the carpeted floor. there’s nothing appealing about fucking in his car. until, of course, you both are heading home from a date and you’re tipsy, horny and impatient. he’ll pull over and give you a preview of what’s to come before you guys get home.

huening kai,,,

he’s just as tall and lanky as soobin, but the reason he’s not at the bottom is because he definitely enjoys a little bit of carplay. maybe it’s fingering you from the drivers seat or having his dick sucked on the road. he’s the type that can’t resist you wherever he is.

soobin,,,

listen, he’s too long and lanky to be fucking around in a car. unless it’s a camper, he literally cannot fit. as much as he wants to try it, he can’t get comfortable no matter how much you contort the seats. it’s okay, just wait until you guys get home.

LEAST