#then tilt into that and do the best version of what you do best
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itneverendshere · 14 days ago
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BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)
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pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut
inspired by this audio (+18)
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between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.
the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 
sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).
you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.
you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."
you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.
the only downside is that you’re in his territory.
it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.
your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.
he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.
and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.
as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.
against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.
mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.
��ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely sorry.
you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."
he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 
you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.
"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”
he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”
rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”
he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”
you raise a brow, "you think so?"
he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”
the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”
the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”
you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”
 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”
"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."
the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”
you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."
there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”
there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 
the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.
you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."
“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”
you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 
you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”
he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”
yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 
“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.
he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”
you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”
he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”
with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 
“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”
instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.
by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.
at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching. the look on his face is priceless—like he’s not sure if he’s about to follow a dream or walk into his worst nightmare. perfect, you think.
you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.
you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 
why make it easy for him?
rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.
he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.
you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.
pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different. 
he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.
at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 
rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.
he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.
third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 
it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 
his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.
did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.
rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.
“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a full out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”
a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.
he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 
his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 
“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”
“who says you’re that dangerous?”
the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 
it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 
you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.
“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”
his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”
he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 
“be a good girl and come out.”
rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 
the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 
“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 
he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 
“what���s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”
your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.
“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 
his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 
“caught you.”
moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 
he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.
you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 
rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.
“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.
“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.
he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 
“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.
“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.
 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?
“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.
you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”
a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”
the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.
your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 
he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.
“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”
you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 
he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 
“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”
his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.
“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 
“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”
he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.
“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”
he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 
“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.
rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.
“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you want to fuck me.”
he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.
“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”
“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.
rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 
he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”
he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.
“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can’t take me.”
the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.
“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.
“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”
rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.
“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”
you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"
his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 
you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”
he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.
“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”
rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.
he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.
“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”
it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 
“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”
with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—
“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.
you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”
“whatever you want.”
you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 
he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?
the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”
looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 
you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.
“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.
“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”
rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"
you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.
“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”
your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 
he’s so strong.
“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”
“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”
it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.
“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”
“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.
“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”
by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”
“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”
“please.”
it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 
he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.
“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 
you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.
“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”
you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”
he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”
for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 
“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”
the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”
“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”
you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.
your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 
“nothin’ to say now, huh?”
the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”
if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 
somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.
“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”
rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”
“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”
he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.
you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.
rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 
a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”
“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”
he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 
your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.
“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.
rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”
he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 
he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”
his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.
five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.
you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.
you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.
“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”
he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.
the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of her attitude that only made him want you more. 
but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 
bless halloween.
“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”
more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 
and the worst part is that you’d do it again.
“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”
you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?
“can i eat you out?”
you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”
he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”
you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”
rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.
“why not?”
well, fucking damnit.
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dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties
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cursingtoji · 16 days ago
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cw: band au, rockstar!geto x groupie!gf, slight manipulation?, car sex, oral. a/n: geto deserves a loser gf too. gojo version nanami version
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geto who has a rock band and though they’re quite small they already have a #1 fan: you.
the band is all you talk about, going to the point of making your own shirts and posters, you doodle the bands logo everywhere and, most importantly you don't miss a single concert.
by the end of it you're waiting next to the back door of the pub when the band comes out, as soon as you see suguru you call his name extending your little gift bag.
"woah for me? thanks, doll." he takes your chin and gives your glossy lips a peck that makes your heartbeat spike up and your face warm up. geto fucking suguru just kissed you!
during all that week you were on cloud nine, so distracted and giggly.
of course geto notices you, always in the front row and ready to give the band some gifts, he sees how you try to dress up as one of them before they even realize they have a visual identity.
geto likes having fangirls, if anything that’s the best sign that the band is doing well. till that point he never considered engaging to one in a more intimate level. after all, women were never a problem for him, fans or not.
the problem is when they think more of the relationship than it really is. geto has always made sure they knew that sleeping together and treating them well was not synonymous to committed relationship.
because he already is committed. to his music. so after spending the whole day trying to come up with a new song so the band may finally have a complete album to present to a record, he takes a frustrated break picking up his phone and to his dismay only finding a long message about how he hurt someone’s feelings.
“oh for fucks sake” he lets his phone fall on the couch and take his keys, this is not a good week to quit smoking.
“geto?” he hears a small voice calling him after he leaves the convenience store with a very much needed cigarette on his lips and nicotine in his system.
“oh hey” he recognizes you by name and face.
“you’re using the lighter” you point out enthusiastically, that was a limited edition you bought and gifted him.
“that’s right, you bought me this, did i say thank you?” he’s genuinely wondering, your face heats remembering the kiss.
“i-its no big deal” you brush it off, since he doesn’t seem to be in a rush you start to babble about one specific song and everything you loved about it, knowing he was the composer.
“do wanna go to my place?” he says after quietly listening to your passionate thoughts. you think steam is about to come out of your ears at how hot your face got.
geto throws away what’s left of his cigarette and takes your hand, not really waiting for a response since the heart in your eyes is pretty obvious.
“you’re so cute” he says with his face mushed into your breasts as he guides your movements on his lap. you never guessed when you came out this morning you would be riding your favorite guitarist’s dick a few hours later, if you knew you probably would’ve put a sexier lingerie. not that he would care, by the way he pushed your bottoms down all at once he probably didn’t even know what color your underwear was.
geto pulled your hair tilting your head to meet his mouth, he devoured you so intensely, so overwhelming… you came not even needing your clit to be touched, just by having him inside you and breathing into your mouth like that was enough.
for suguru it was all a power trip, when he saw you after a concert he knew it wouldn’t take you much sweet talking to get you in his car.
he quickly mumbled an excuse to meet the band at the bar later and in just a few minutes he had you bobbing your head down his cock, “just like that, gorgeous, so good” his head is thrown back as he moans softly.
and as the band grew more popular and they had to travel to other cities to perform he would always count on you to meet him at his hotel room.
“geto~” you mewl his name as he eats your pussy from behind so lewdly.
from the very first time you knew it was over for every other guy the moment he touched you. no matter what anyone said about geto, that he was using you, he would never marry you, you didn’t care. you would be his devotee as long as he wanted.
and geto got all he wanted, a pretty little thing that didn’t complain or asked too many questions and best of all: that loved his music and understood his work.
“i know, you have to practice” you kiss him one last time before gathering your clothing from the floor, the hints of him not wanting to stay over were all memorized at this point, so you turn your back at him and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.
but the usual sound of the door opening and closing never came, instead you saw him coming from behind to lace strong arms around your waist, “well maybe just tonight” he smells your hair and through the mirror he sees the tattoo bellow your belly button, just above the hem of your underwear. your prof of love: the logo of the band.
geto touches it and you giggle at the feathery feeling, like a tickle, he likes that sound. he likes you.
“i was thinking you should get another, right here” a finger caress your right ass cheek.
“the same one?” you ask confused.
“no, silly, something else” he gets down hands caressing your hips and kissing the extension of your butt, “my name.”
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sakkiichi · 1 year ago
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COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.
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Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?
ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.
cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.
a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
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✧ SCARAMOUCHE
Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.
Scaramouche is not amused.
Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.
Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.
“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.
“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.
“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”
“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.
He sighs.
“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.
“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.
Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.
“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.
“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.
Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.
“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.
Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.
Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.
Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.
Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.
Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.
✧ ALBEDO
A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.
Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.
Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.
“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.
“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.
The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.
“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”
Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.
Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.
“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.
A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.
“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.
“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.
“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”
“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.
After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.
“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”
His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.
“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.
Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.
Those last two syllables.
His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.
“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.
Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.
“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”
“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.
Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.
When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.
✧ XIAO
“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.
Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.
What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-
“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.
The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.
Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.
You, however, know better.
“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.
The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.
She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?
Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.
“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.
“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.
In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.
“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.
The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.
“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.
His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.
“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.
Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.
The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.
✧ CHILDE
Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.
Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.
The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.
He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.
She must get closer.
Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.
Her plan can be put into action now.
Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.
Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.
Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.
Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.
And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.
“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.
Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.
“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.
You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.
“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.
Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.
Then:
“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.
Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.
“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.
No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.
✧ KAEYA
Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.
Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.
Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.
But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.
A couple and their daughter.
“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.
His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.
“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.
“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”
The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.
You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.
“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.
With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.
“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.
“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.
“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.
Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.
Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.
✧ NEUVILLETTE
Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.
Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.
Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.
Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.
The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.
Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.
“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”
Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.
“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.
Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.
A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.
“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”
The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.
“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.
Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.
“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.
In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.
Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.
The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months ago
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thinkin’ about katsuki who grabs you by the arm after you’ve commited a crime punishable by death—trying to leave for work without giving him a proper goodbye kiss.
you’re already running a little late and he’s still sipping at his coffee when you rush past him, haphazardly shrugging your jacket on. “i”ll be back by five !” you call out. and katsuki stops you dead in your tracks with a loud “oi !”
you spin around to see him scowling at you, crossing his big arms over each other as he squints at you. he’s already in uniform and about ready to go, face mask around his neck and a bit of his shirt still unzipped, chest exposed just enough for you to sneak a quick peek at.
you tilt your head, mind still a little scrambled and confused about what he could possibly want and he rolls his eyes “you forgot something, dummy..” he clicks his teeth. a smile grows onto your face and you’re happily skipping over to your man, having understood his slightly butchered version of “you forgot to give me a kiss before you leave.” katsuki watches intently as you approach him.
unfortunately for you, still in a rush, you make the fatal mistake of pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, you feel your lipgloss cling to his skin and giggle internally, you knew he’d complain about how irritatingly long it took to wipe the sticky shit off.
“have a nice day, baby. i love you.” you say sweetly, spinning around because you imagine he’ll just grumble something back like how you’re used to. you make your way to the door—or you try to, because in a heartbeat you’re grabbed by the arm and spun right back towards the blond.
he looks extremely irritated from this close up, katsuki presses his forehead to yours and pulls you closer by the small of your back, then smacks his lips against your hard, you squeal at the intensity of it all, especially so early in the morning (even though you should always expect intense with katsuki). his hands are rubbing up your spine as he pulls you impossibly closer and he’d managed to force his way into your mouth, breathing into it. you break away, and he presses one more wet kiss to yours.
it’s all you can do to try and catch your breath, eyes wide as he keeps looking at you intensely. he pulled away just enough for you to see him speak. you hear your heart in your ears.
“you gimme..a proper kiss or nothin’..y’got me ?” he pants, still trying to catch his breath. still hearing your heart in your ears you nod “mhm, okay..” you hum. he scans your face before a smirks breaks onto his face.
“good..,” he looks awfully proud of himself. he pats your butt and snorts when you jump, then presses a kiss to the side of your head “love you babe, have a good day at work.” the smirk stays prominent, not like he’s trying to hide it, as he finishes the rest of his coffee and you turn around with a hum, trying your best to get out of your daze and rush for work.
you’re absolutely sure he’d just made you late with that one, but you really weren’t complaining
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tbaluver · 3 months ago
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Hi, Can I request short fic with Lads boys (or only Zayne if you want ). They turned into cats for one day, and MC took care of them.
It would also be interesting to know what breed and color they would be, how they hinted that it was them, etc.
and then in the morning they turned back!
(^˵◕ω◕˵^)
Love ya
When They Turn Into Cats- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: silly a/n: hi anonnie! sorry this took so long to make but this was so cute and fun to write ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ ! i love love cats but i don't own one yet so i'm soso sorry to any of the cat owners out there if i miswrote what it's like ! i hope you like and enjoy it! i love ya too anonnie have a good day/ night! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ edit: heres the version of where you turn into a cat! When You Turn Into A Cat any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :
You begin to stir from your sleep, reaching out for your lover only to find the space beside you cold and empty. Your eyes flutter open to see a fluffy ragdoll cat with white and light brown fur. The cat curled up peacefully beside you, unaware of the turmoil unfolding around it. Panic and confusion surged through you as you sat up abruptly. 
Where was Xavier? Did he bring this cat home with him? Did this cat wander through an open window?
Your mind raced with questions as you quickly scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of him but he was nowhere to be found. You moved through the house, calling out his name and looked in every room, only to return to your bedroom with no sign of him. The cat remained undisturbed on the bed. In a last attempt, you grabbed your phone to text Xavier, a notification chimed from his phone- right beside his bedside.
As you stand there, taking in the sight of the cat, it begins to stir. It stretches its fluffy paws kneading the bed spread. A soft meow escapes its mouth and tilts its head in confusion. It lets out another meow, as if it’s trying to speak but only produces feline sounds. The cat looked down at its paws, its eyes wide with confusion. With a clumsy roll, it flopped onto its back, its tiny belly exposed in full display. The realization to Xavier of his feline form seemed to down on him and let out a resigned meow.
Determined to you show, he darts around your home trying to show you that this cat is in fact him, your lover. He runs to the kitchen, pawing at his favorite snacks and when you're still confused until he runs to his sword. He paws at the star keychain on the sword's hilt, hoping you would get the idea.
The connection clicks in your mind as you watch the cat meow again, although it’s not just any random cat, it was Xavier. You sink to the floor, settling yourself at Xavier’s cat level as he crawls into your lap and curls comfortably as if he’s always belonged there.
You don’t know how Xavier turned into a cat or how to reverse it so the best you could do for now was to take care of him, hoping that he’ll be okay when he randomly turns back into a human. When you tried to leave the house to get him cat food, he persistently cried making it impossible for you to leave him behind.
In this cat form, Xavier’s behavior was oddly just like his human self. He was calm and gentle and found often sleeping contentedly  on your lap or nestled close by. The warmth of his tiny and fluffy body was a comforting presence and his soft purring was a soothing background in your home. He also seems to really love it when you scratch behind his ears.
Anytime you laid down, he would knead any parts of your body. Anytime you ate something, he would paw at your food or try to steal a bite. And anytime you didn't let him have a bite, he'll stare at you with sad cat eyes. He would even follow you around even to the bathroom to do whatever business you had in there. It felt as if he was just guarding you in his cat form- even if he fell asleep again.
When night time falls, he curls up beside you, something Xavier would always do during your night routines. You reach out, your fingers gently brushing through his fur, and Xavier response with a content sleepy "meow", pressing his head against yours.
When you woke up, you felt a warm presence beside you. Blinking sleepily, your eyes widened in surprise to find Xavier back into human form, still curled up beside you. His hair tousled and his face relaxed as he sleeps peacefully. With a gentle smile, you kiss the top of his head and pull him closer, drifting back to sleep together. All your worries melt away and was replaced by the comforting presence of your lover.
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Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :
You were supposed to meet Zayne an hour ago for a date after his shift, but despite your repeated calls and texts, he never responded. Concerned, you decided to check on him at the hospital. As you navigate the familiar hallways, you make your way to his office. When you opened the door, you were surprised to find no sign of Zayne- only a gray Scottish Fold cat curled up on his desk, peacefully asleep on top of a messy stack of papers.
You called out his name, but the only response was the cat’s slow stretch as it blinked awake. The cat rubs its eyes with its paws, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute it looked with Zayne’ glasses perched on its nose.
The cat’s eyes widened in confusion as it glanced down at its feline form. It meows softly, then looks up at you with an almost desperate expression. It paws at you, as if it were trying to get your attention but you mistook this as a request for affection and scratched the back of its head. The cat seemed to enjoy the attention for a moment, then abruptly shook your hand away and started pawing at the glasses.
Confused, you picked up their glasses and the cat seemed to become even more agitated. It started patting at the name tag on Zayne’s desks with urgency. Realization has finally hit you and you looked back at the cat and the name. The cat let out a resigned meow, and you laughed softly as you tried to process this strange situation.
You settle into his office chair, and he curls up o your lap, resting his head against your chest as if surrendering to the situation. Gently, you scratch the back of his head, offering a soothing reassurance that you'll find a way to restore him to his human form.
Before you leave, you tidy up his desk so it is ready for his return one day. You carefully carry him through the familiar hospital hallways. As you pass by Greyson, who reaches out to pet what he thinks is just a stray cat, Zayne swats his hand away, not in the mood for affection from others, only you.
Once you get him back home, you opt for cat food, concerned that giving him his favorite human food or treats might upset his stomach in this new feline form. You couldn’t tell but he would be really sad watching you eat your shared favorite food and treats without him. He would just stare at you as you eat it all. 
Being a cat does not stop him from being a doctor to you. He'll gently headbutt you or paw you if you indulge in too much junk food, concerned about your health and your disregard for his medical advice.
You offer a stick and string for play and at first he seemed indifferent about it but a few minutes later he was swatting and pouncing with enthusiasm. You were definitely gong to tease him about this later.
He was a very observant cat. He doesn't do much other than explore around new corners areas of your house he hasn't seen before due to his smaller form. Other than that he takes keen interest in watching you go about your day as he sits on your windowsill.
He loves it when you pet him and he purrs contentedly in response. He's read somewhere that cats purr as a form of healing, and he hopes that maybe just maybe that it'll heal your heart. As your stroke his fur, hell give you slow, deliberate blinks. It's his cat version of saying I love you.
As you prepare for bed, he follows you to the bathroom, quietly overserving you as you brush your teeth and go through the rest of your nightly routine. When you make a cozy spot for him on the bed, he disregards it and instead curls up right beside you. As you both settle into bed, you run your fingers gently through his fur, and together you drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's warmth.
As the light settles through the curtains, you gradually wake up, feeling arms wrapped around your waist. Your heart racing with a mix of joy and disbelief, you see your lover back to normal and already awake. He looks down at you tenderly, gently brushing the stray strands of hair from your face. You gently cradle his face, savoring the precious moment before drawing him into a close embrace, filled with gratitude that your lover is finally back in his true form.
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Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :
You visit his studio, only to find the room he usually paints at messy. More messy than usual. Paw prints were scattered all over the canvases, the floor, and the furniture. As you call out for Rafayel, a distressed orange cat darts towards you, urgently trying to climb up your leg and practically crying.
"MYEOWWWW" "MYEOOWWW"
You giggle thinking Rafayel must have scared the cat. As you bend down to soothe it, the cat tries to climb onto you, continuing to meow loudly and seek comfort.
"Did Raf let you in? Did he scare you?"
The cat steps back with a huff, it's ears going in airplane mode as it shakes its head in disapproval. You were amused by the cat from how it looks like it just responded to you. "Let me go find him."
You call out for him again, but the only reply is the cat gently tapping your feet. As you look down, you see the cat jump onto a stool, giving you a clearer view. To your surprise, you notice it's wearing Rafayel's locket- the one that matches your bracelet, something he has gifted you a while ago. The realization hits your hard, your lover has turned into a cat.
You approach him, gently petting him to offer reassurance. Your aware of how much he fears and dislikes cat and now somehow he transformed into one and you're not sure how long this curse will last on him. You stifle a snicker, finding the situation oddly amusing, but your determined to take good care of your love in his new feline form.
"meow."
Even as a cat, he chatters endlessly, trailing after you wherever you go. You clean up the studio from the mess he made as a cat and the ones he probably made in his human form. "meow. meow. meow. meow. meow."
You attempt to wash the paint off his paws yet he hisses at the water despite him being a Lemurian- perhaps it's due to his feline nature. He also rejects the healthy cat food you offer, hissing and retreating to a corner in disapproval. He tries to sneak and steal his favorite food but he gets caught by you every time. You had to give him positive reinforcements and praise him for him to eat the cat food you fed him.
Anytime he passes by a mirror, he would hiss at it. Anytime you wouldn't give him attention, he would bite your leg or your arm depending on what you're doing. When you scold him for doing that, he'll have his tail and brush against your leg while meowing at you. "myeowwww. myeowwwww."
You attempted to play with him on the bed, but he suddenly stood up on his hind legs. In a playful misstep, he ends up flopping onto his back and tumbling off the bed.
After a long day, you prepare for bed, with him trailing behind you, his paws making soft pattering sounds. He leaps into the space right next to you, settling in comfortably. You gently scratch the back of his head, and he purrs softly, secretly enjoying the affection. You kiss the top of his furry head and wish him a goodnight before you both drift off to sleep.
It wasn't the sun that woke you up by your lover who was right beside you gasping when he finally realized he wasn't a cat anymore.
"Maybe true love's kiss? Pfft. You should've kissed me sooner cutie. Was I not adorable even as a cat?"
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Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :
You wake up to the heavy weight of a cat sitting on your stomach. A Burmese with dark, fluffy fur is perched comfortably on you, staring at you with a piercing gaze. The intensity of its stare is a bit unsettling and you're left wondering how this cat appeared or what it's doing in Sylus's home.
"meow."
You shift to a sitting position, causing the cat to hop off your body. However as you settle, it immediately climbs back onto you, finding a comfortable spot once more. Instinctively, you reach down to pet it, and it closes its eyes, purring contentedly. As you reach for your phone to call Sylus, you hear his phone from the opposite bedside table right next to you.
Confused, you get up from the bed and start searching for him, with the cat following you and meowing persistently. "meow. meow." You check every room, calling out for him, but he's nowhere to be found. You even asked Mephisto where Sylus might be, only to remember you don't speak crow. You eventually asked him to fly in the direction Sylus might have gone, but the crow remains still as the cat stands right beside you.
Not understanding the clue right away, he paws at you and meows insistently. As you glance down, you notice the red, shiny necklace Sylus always wears. Suddenly it hits you that all this time it was Sylus who had been the cat.
Finding his new form both adorable and amusing, you reach down to pet him. As you let out small laugh, he playfully wrestles with your arm. You didn't want to admit it but somehow even in his cat form, he was still strong as he playfully dominated your arm with ease.
He eats any cat food you give him without any fuss. He has a lot of fun playing with Mephisto though you think it seems one sided, as Mephisto quickly flies away in fear whenever he jumps up to chase him. He also enjoys playing around with Mephisto's feathers and becomes even more engaged when you join in as you hold up the feather for him to catch.
He purrs contentedly whenever he's on your lap or curled up right beside you. His purring continues as you brush his fur and nearly drifted off to sleep as he finds it so soothing.
He follows you everywhere around the house, not giving you any space at all. Even when you're in the bathroom, he trails after you, watching every move with whatever you do in there.
As you prepare for bed, he tries to settle on you again, but he feels a bit heavy with the weight on your stomach so you gently lift him to curl up beside you instead. He doesn't mind being moved, as long as he's close to you. Once he's settled, he makes himself comfortable and you both soon drift off to sleep together.
You haven't woken up yet, still unaware that he's already returned to his human form. Propper up on one elbow, with the other arm around your waist, he watches you sleep with a soft smirk, finding your peaceful sleep adorable. As you stir, you might wonder if the previous day's events were just a dream and he would one hundred percent try to make you believe that.
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prael · 2 months ago
Text
A Bargain To Remember
Kinktember Day 13: Car sex
(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut
words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist
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"Finally, a face to the name."
You know all about Miyeon, of course. She's the type of girl whose face is plastered on every screen and every street in every corner of the galaxy, a darling of the interplanetary conglomerates. From the spaceports to even the most downtrodden of back-alleys, you can probably find her face on some poster or flyer or some massive digital billboard high above you—those corporate powers that be sure want to squeeze as much out of her as possible.
The surprise is that she knows you.
Of course, it's on those screens, or the ones at home, or the ones in their pockets, that most people become acquainted with a girl like Miyeon. Those glossy eyes, her effervescent smile, her delicate but fierce features, of course, they leave an impression. They sell you dreams, products and promises. That's why you can find her all over the place—but the versions of her you can interact with— ones to purchase and enjoy—are another beast altogether.
"Can I help you, miss?" you feign ignorance of her identity as she takes the chair at the other end of your desk.
"I would like to make a purchase."
"A purchase? From me? What could I possibly offer to someone like you? I sell scrap electronics to junkies and fix the broken implants of low-life thugs. How could that possibly interest you?"
She crosses her legs, and says, "Don't play with me. I have seen your work, quite the artist you are, though I wouldn't say you exactly have my mannerisms down. The curve of my mouth, the cadence of my voice—not exactly up to par with the real deal. But as fakes go, you do well with what you have."
You scratch at the back of your head and then catch a bead of sweat forming at your temple, "Think you have the wrong guy, miss. You're talking AI and Virts here. Not my thing, definitely not my forte."
She's quiet as you look around at anything but her face. The grey concrete walls and steel beam of the roof are awfully fascinating suddenly, and then the holos playing on loop above the screens of your makeshift booth—really anything than to have to admit that your life's work consists of making and selling forgeries of people like her. She knows why she's here—the least you could do is be brave and admit to your craft.
"I tried your work myself. Quite the experience. Can't say I ever planned on fucking myself—but well, there's a first time for everything I guess."
There's enough power across your desk to not only shut you down and make it so the only tech you would ever touch again is a pair of electrified cuffs at best, and at worst she could have you put down and silently disposed.
Miyeon continues, "As I say, it wasn't entirely accurate, I'm not actually that loud or aggressive, for the record. But it was fun, so if you're thinking I'm about to expose you, not the case—I'm actually here to invest in your skill. Your art is fun, and I dare say your tastes in women, are spot on."
You let out a small nervous laugh and then say, "I don't usually take requests."
Her pink-painted lips, the gloss shimmering slightly from the bright fluorescent overhead light, form into a delicate, mischievous grin. "I'm willing to make you an offer, one you won't refuse. You get me what I want, and I'll license your work. Think about it. An official Miyeon VirtueX™, think of how lucrative an asset that could be. The whole galaxy's lining up to get a taste—and you would be the only real supply."
You lean forward in your chair to peer at her and ask, "Let's say I was who you think I am, what is it that you want from me?"
"What I want from you," she pauses and tilts her head, her eyes glance across your features briefly and her tongue traces the edges of her teeth. "Is to show me the past." She places a drive on the desk—old-tech, the kind that would never run on any kind of systems that are sold today. "You can get this working, right?"
"Is that a government stamp?" You point to the symbol on the drive. "I plug that in and I'll have execution squads here in under a minute."
"It's all above board. Officially disposed and untracked. I just need to live it, once." Her voice is quiet and pensive.
"Alright. Deal. But those two lumps of metal you call bodyguards have to stay out there, and you're coming through to my studio. If I'm gonna help, you have to play by my rules."
She flashes you a winning smile. You thought you had her pegged down but all this has proved you wrong—there was more to Miyeon than the flashy clothes and the blinding lights, a lot more. And your curiosity is getting the better of you now.
"You know, you're only the third person to ever step in here," you open up the secret passage into the back room, and gesture for Miyeon to step in.
You close the door behind you both and feel the heavy metal slide lock with a hiss.
"The first was me, naturally, and the second left it in a body bag a few years ago."
She doesn't flinch, just brushes past you and sits on the edge of your desk, running a finger along the steel as if surveying the conditions of your equipment. "Hard to imagine you make the stuff you do from a place like this," she says.
"The drive," you say as you hold out a hand.
She passes it over and you examine the shape and material. Most drives these days are designed to interface with neural implant ports or organic docks directly—this is true vintage work. It might have been what some would have called groundbreaking tech a hundred or so years ago. You hook the little device up to your primary work machine and start running tests.
She slides off the table, her hands resting on your shoulders. She bends down, her body pressed into yours as she murmurs near your ear. "How is it?"
"A mess. But a fixable mess. Should have something you can use soon enough."
Miyeon breathes gently in your ear before placing a hand on your arm, "Please, whatever you do, do not look at the contents. It's personal, just let me view it, and live it, one last time. Then you can lock it away again for all eternity and erase the copy from your server. And then you get exactly what you want from me."
You breathe in deeply, a mixture of her perfume and the thick oily scent of hot electronics flooding your brain. "Whatever, it's none of my business anyway. Now take a seat will you." You nod to the chair on the other side of the room.
The drive whirrs softly and a data scan runs to gather all the fragmented encryptions left behind on the device. Miyeon lies flat back on your chair and waits for you to connect her—she holds out her forearm expectantly.
"Come on then," she smiles sweetly and pulls a loose curl behind her ear.
You clamp your eyes tight and inhale. "Here goes nothing." You run the system at the push of a button and all the data you scraped compiles in a memory, one for Miyeon and Miyeon alone to relive. You walk over, drawing the connection from the chair and readying to insert it into her arm. "Connections like these, they can hurt, okay? Are you ready?"
"Do it." She's insistent.
A quick stab of your fingers later and the tiny prongs slide into the barely visible organic slot on her skin. Her head tosses violently and for the first time, there's fear on her face. But as soon as you have her connected, her eyelids begin to flutter. You sit a while, watching her as a million synapses all spark to life behind rolling eyes—whatever the moment is, she is in it. You leave her in peace and sit back at your workstation, waiting.
There's an artificial sensation of the atmosphere becoming slightly humid all around, the lights are a soft pastel blue, and the world is swathed in cotton wool. Silent. You find yourself completely frozen in time. It drags and yet somehow comes to a finish just as you're still adjusting to the quietude.
Miyeon's connection beeps and you turn around, removing the port from your system. She pulls the connection from her arm.
"So, tell me, was it worth the trip down memory lane? You get everything you wanted?" You unplug the old-school hardware and await the confirmation that all the corrupted data's safely expunged from your hard drives.
"Almost everything. But most things, in the end, never get a happy ending, do they?"
"Sounds heavy. The stuff that happened on there, pretty rough, huh."
Her pupils are dilated, the whites of her eyes flooded red. "Like you wouldn't believe." Miyeon climbs from the chair, finding her feet back in the real world after living in another for a precious few minutes. She blinks twice and there's a distinct film over her corneas.
"So that's it? My end of the bargain was fulfilled. And I get my licensed content?"
Miyeon turns and you wonder if that's a tear that's been cast down her cheek. "Sealed and guaranteed. Now let's give you some real data to work with. The right anatomical model, an authentic Miyeon behavioural pattern, every single unique vocal calibration, every erogenous spot, every subtle expression in real-time—have it all. One more condition. I have another memory, a real one in my head, if you make me relive that, you can record it and scrub every detail you need. Are we agreed?"
You nod. "Done. Sit there and we'll connect."
"You're going to manually record?"
"How do you think I get it all so accurate?" you tell her with a smug smile.
She sits and gives a nod. "If it's got to be done." You take a seat behind her, and you both reach over your shoulder to pull the neural connector into your napes and slot them in.
A brief flash of many realities as you slip into her consciousness and she welcomes you to her memory.
A calm setting, sitting in a car, you were driving and she's in the passenger seat. You're parked beside a winding hillside road and looking out over a city. A city you don't recognise. Miyeon's fingers dancing across your thigh with a suggestive gentleness, a sly smile.
"Where are we?" you ask.
"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.
"When are we?"
"2024."
"2024? That's over seventy years ago!"
She laughs. "Yeah? You wanted the real authentic Miyeon, didn't you?"
"Sure, but in 2024? That's just unbelievable. You look the same. How are you so—"
She leans close and traces a finger across the line of your jaw. She stares directly into your eyes and says, "We'll worry about the details later. Right now, you want what I've promised, and you've come this far, so you know what has to be done. We're already where we need to be."
Your senses are engulfed in an emotion and memories that are not your own. All a simulation and all a vivid and overwhelming experience. You're in love with her, that's the overriding feeling—the feeling of whoever she was really with at this time.
"This is the memory of the best sex of my life." She leans close to whisper to you. "So do try your best."
"This is just..." You don't get to finish, she's grabbed your shirt and pulled you close. She kisses you deeply. There is nothing of the daintiness or composure that you're used to, you've lost all your will and she is dragging you out of control. You find yourself consumed with an overwhelming and perplexing ecstasy and the idea of restraint or of reason seems unimportant now. You're driven purely by passion and by instinct—she has to have you and you have to have her, it's almost a compulsion. She's yanking off her seatbelt and reaching for your trousers, clawing at them desperately.
And just like that, you're scrambling at each other's clothes, almost frantic. You have the sensation of her breath across your face, the heat of her lips against your skin. Hands, everywhere. Exploring the curves of her body. A hungry desperation to peel back every layer of fabric to feel more, and more of her. She bites your bottom lip and looks at you with pleading eyes.
"I want you and I want you now." Her lips move like liquid lust and her hand like electricity, the energy tingles when she wraps her fingers around your cock and pulls it free from your pants.
She gasps and then giggles as if pleasantly surprised, a cute and kittenish squeal, she hums with her own approval of her actions.
"I'll be gentle," she whispers, her eyes shining with mischief. She rubs you from tip to base, taking the full length, slowly and teasingly over and again until the blood's pumping and you're at full salute. She's on her knees in the passenger seat and leaning over you. A smirk on her lips, she goes lower and lower still, her tongue warm and wet. Taking your crown into her mouth and enveloping you, her pace slow but sure.
Your hand in her hair, not to control or pressure, just to feel her in the moment. Encourage her, caress the back of her neck and appreciate every moment of pleasure. She takes you deep, deeper into her throat, the heat of her lungs, the power in her movements as she comes off and plunges again and again. It's effortless and instinct, and not for anything other than her own desire to please, and that itself is thrilling, you have to admit.
It's a strange new world for you to have sex without the enhancements of technology. It's so raw.
You sigh and whimper at every suckling pull, your nerve endings raw and singing. Her palms firmly pressing down onto the tops of your thighs, her movements grow slower, more sensual but she sucks harder, the vibrations from the moans of her enjoyment humming through the root of your shaft—fuck, it feels so fucking good, too good. She releases you with a slight gasp for air and a drooling line of spit.
She wipes her lips with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Outside, now." Miyeon doesn't hesitate. Her shirt pulled off and tossed into your face and she's leapt over to the rear passenger door, flinging it open wide, the warm night air rushes in to greet you, along with the sound of crickets. She slams the door shut and you open yours.
You climb out and head to meet her at the front of the car, she's already leaning against the metal hood. The car is one of those muscle cars from back at the time, a real classic ride that suits a woman like her. "Hey you," she rubs her hands against the metal as she leans forward and sprawls herself over it. "Get behind me already," her tongue dancing across her red-stained lips, her chest heaving in excitement, you're as hot and as hard as you'll ever be.
Miyeon tilts her head, watching you closely with half-opened eyes, her pretty pink tongue sticks out between her perfect teeth, and a teasing wink follows. She wiggles her hips, an inviting gesture, her skirt raised to reveal the gentle wobble of her cheeks—she doesn't have underwear, what a perfect minx she is—all bare for you.
She runs a hand down over the hem of her skirt and then raises it fully up over the top of her ass. As glorious as the very stars overhead. You have an overwhelming urge to run your hands across her bare flesh and as you take the first steps towards her, you find your arms reaching and touching and tracing every inch of skin that's exposed.
You run your hands over her cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, Miyeon's letting out soft little noises, encouraging you, inciting you—but fuck, this view... it's exquisite. It's so clear now, that all those fakes, the painstaking hours of recreation, simply did not live up to the real deal, and not just the view, everything is magnitudes superior.
You smooth your palm between her thighs and you part them, pulling her ass to the edge, sliding her legs open, watching as her wetness shines. "Just how badly do you want me?" you ask her.
"Look at me, how can you say something like that? Of course, I fucking want you. I hate having to wait. Come and fuck me."
You guide your cock to sit between her cheeks and rock into it gently, enjoying how those perky cheeks cradle your length and the way her whole body rocks with every movement. "Is it wrong that I love watching you squirm?" you ask, running the palm of your hand over the bare skin, digging your fingers in, grasping a handful and appreciating how it yields under your fingertips.
"Only wrong if I mind, and I don't," Miyeon groans, lifting her hips against you and smothering your dick in her deliciously juicy flesh. She is irresistible. "So what are you waiting for," her voice soft and suggestive. "Go on, you know you want to. You know how much I need it."
You grit your teeth and trace her lips with the tip of your cock, and it's like lightning flashing between you both. Fuck. Her lips are so wet and hot—they're so tantalisingly puffy. She wiggles and gyrates against you as you rest inside her opening. She groans and you're shuddering.
You slide the first few inches and gasp. You both moan softly together as you glide in, she's so much tighter than you had imagined she might feel—every inch that slides inside makes her clench you more.
"Yes," Miyeon is urgent and breathy, her muscles are contracting as though attempting to swallow your entire length. And she's hungry for it. "That's it baby, nice and deep," her words as electrifying as the sensation of her snug walls quivering as she clings on with greed.
"Like this?" you whisper in her ear as you lean over and pin her petite frame against the metal, letting her feel you, all of you. Every inch. And as she moans and shivers under the weight of your body. Your hands reach her shoulders and your fingertips find her neck, circling and caressing and massaging in all the right places—she turns her head as far round as she's able to gaze at you as she hums and gasps with each rolling movement of your hips.
Her teeth biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink, a complete dream in motion. Her body arches as she urges and wills herself back on you. You groan in return. Everything about her feels unreal in its perfection. She's squeezing against your cock, and her most hidden recesses begin to melt for you.
Miyeon cums like this, and it's without warning. She tenses, her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open—her silky tunnel clamps tight as a vice grip. And the way she gushes all over you, covering you, she can barely breathe, she can barely let out a cry or a single noise, only ragged breathing as you hold her firmly in place and fuck her through it.
You fuck her without shame or inhibition. She whimpers, a feeble cry, every thrust powerful and deliberate. Miyeon moans what feels like your name and you give another forceful snap of your hips, both hands firmly on her slim and shaking waist. There are no words that can possibly encapsulate her.
"That's it," her breath erratic and shaky. She grinds her ass into you with every forward push, working into a perfect rhythm and going balls-deep with each pump. "Hard." You slam against her ass, the clapping sound of skin against skin—it fills the warm and humid air.
Miyeon cums again. So fucking easy to make her cum. Her beautiful brown eyes are desperate with desire. She shakes, she is panting, "Just like that, keep doing exactly that and I'll lose my damn mind. God, you feel so fucking big."
She's limp now, just taking rough, powerful and blissful strokes—her cries a series of hoarse grunts and weak moans.
You grab her by the waist, hard, she lets out a yelp, and then you're manhandling her, throwing her delicate figure over onto her back. There they are, those perfect little tits, grown red being forced against the metal of the car. Her soppy mess drips out from her thoroughly fucked hole.
"This, is all you wanted right?" You gather her legs and thrust them roughly up and over your shoulders, sliding easily back inside. Her pussy gushing and absolutely soaking. "A good rough fucking. You just love to be used don't you, baby. This is the side of you I've been missing, seeing how you have always been so prim and proper in front of everyone."
"That was your problem, all those homemade VirtueXs made me all commanding when I really just love to be taken." Her breaths are ragged.
"Maybe that's just how I'll be selling you in future then," you say.
She gives a throaty chuckle. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but for now," Miyeon takes a tight hold of her knees, and draws them against her chest. "Make me cum again, please."
You have her absolutely filled with every inch of cock and stretched tight with every savage drive of your hips, again, and again, and again. Sweat forms a light film over every curve and groove of her form. She's gorgeous, she's taking it, and she's loving it. "Let me feel you cum," she breathes between pumps and thrusts, her fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as she spreads herself as open as is physically possible.
A combination of pressure and adrenaline, you're hammering deep. Miyeon is groaning and pleading. A loud moan, a series of short sharp exhales and whimpers. Those narrow hips are trembling, her slim thighs shake, toes are curled. Her orgasm and invitation for you to join her come as a surge.
You explode. Locked, sheathed so deep and full, you fill her. "Cum so much..." Miyeon sighs in awe. Your climax is euphoria.
Both a sweating, quaking mass of interlocked limbs, you pull away and your drenched cock slips out. "How are you real," you exhale. "Never felt anything like you."
"I am one of a kind." Miyeon laughs gently to herself. "Now let's get back in there and you can fuck me some more."
You're in the backseat now, Miyeon's slender body climbing all over you. She leans in and takes your lips, her sticky lip gloss and the sweet taste of her mouth as she invades with her tongue and leads yours into a frenzy. Her fingertips drag down across your chest. She's positioning herself over your cock.
The beauty of simulation is there's no recovery, only the chasing of the next orgasm, and she's keen to provide the means. She takes you with her eyes closed, a small, grateful moan and she slides herself slowly up and down. Your head arches back with a cry as she holds onto your shoulders and glides her lips down over your shaft.
"Gonna ride you," she whispers as she rocks herself in time with the rise and fall of your breaths. "Ride you until you explode again." Your fingertips squeeze into the supple curves and muscles of her torso.
It is a euphoric ecstasy. Miyeon looks perfect riding a dick. She sinks down low, grinding back and forth. She moves like waves, her hair stuck against her cheek. You take hold and move the strands out of the way, before trailing down the bare skin of her neck and to her tits, groping them firmly.
"Been so long since I last got to do this. Missed how big you are." She grasps the headrest as the speed and intensity of her motions increase. "Yeah, that's it, baby."
Her eyes flutter and her head starts to fall further and further back. Erratic, out of control, wild—she starts slamming her ass down hard. Fucked-slack and oozing, her juices dripping down. She's growing quiet and you watch her expression transform, her eyes turn glassy. You watch her face strain in her pleasure, it's a wonderful sight—pure bliss. Then she erupts into moans as her body convulses and spasms, and all you can do is hold her steady, her hole throbbing tight around you. She gasps, desperate for oxygen, every fibre and nerve singing in harmony.
From one, right into chasing the next, Miyeon lifts herself, turns, presents her ass to you and sits back on your cock. You watch it slip up between her cheeks and disappear inside her cunt once more, she hums a content sigh and leans forward. Miyeon braces herself against the window of the car, looking over her shoulder as she moves.
Her groin rocks and grinds on your shaft in a rolling motion and it's heaven itself. That cute, perky ass smacks on your groin in a sensual motion. Her hand snakes between her legs. Her moans grow in strength and volume. Wet, slippery, soft, Miyeon's fucking you and riding herself to her own orgasm. She starts to tremble. You start to tremble. She's squirming wildly, desperate for her climax, that gorgeous cunt squeezing every inch and driving you crazy.
And you lose it. Another intense explosion that makes you clasp onto her ass and hold it steady. A groan rips through your entire body, and you empty everything you have. She cums the instant she feels the heat spread through her. A unified orgasm. Pure heavenly relief. The energy seems to drift into the air and the car rattles beneath you both. It is incredible. The euphoria is otherworldly.
"Tell me that was good," she asks softly.
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"Again. Again. Please, one more time?"
"It's your head, sweetie. Have at it."
"Hmm, I suppose it is. Then I want to sit on you, and I want it in my ass." Miyeon giggles and slips herself off you, a mixture of your cum and hers falling down her thighs.
"Whatever the fuck you want," you groan, delirious as Miyeon pulls you up to the seat and then takes her place on your lap, she spread her legs out over yours and you take her hips, guiding her ass onto your cum-soaked cock. Everything is a fucking blur but the sensations are turned up to eleven, and there is nothing else that is comparable.
You plant kisses on her hot, sweaty back as you slide her down onto your length. She's twitching, and squirming. You hear her let out a soft gasp of delight at the invasion. The tightness, the constricting squeeze is just...
"Oh yes..." Miyeon breathes softly. "Let me... let me do the work now, let me fuck this big hard dick with my tight ass." She circles her hips, drawing on your cock with a slow, tight, merciless motion. Your world starts spinning all over again. She's slick with sweat, her cheeks grinding on your thighs, the scent and the sex drives you fucking wild. "What a perfect dick. I could do this all day."
You lean your head forward, and sink your teeth into the muscle of her shoulder—a flurry of loud moans from Miyeon as she bounces on your shaft. The sloppy sounds, the music of her pleasures, the clapping slap, it's insane and exhilarating. You lick her sweat from her flesh, tasting her.
She's slick and stretched, clamping around your cock as her pace quickens and turns ragged and urgent. It's a whole other level, it's unparalleled and all-consuming. You're just about ready to blow inside her ass.
"Hold onto me," She pants, grasping your left wrist and bringing it over to her mouth, placing your fingertips upon her tongue and sucking. It is lewd and erotic and exciting and your insides begin to churn and ache.
There's no stopping you now, you erupt again, gripping her waist as your hips buck up on instinct, jamming yourself deep and blowing. Miyeon moans around your fingertips—taking your load while still rubbing her swollen little clit.
"Yes, I love it when I make you cum like that," she murmurs, sliding herself slowly off your half-mast cock and crawling off your lap. She throws herself down on the seat in a heap, peering down at the thick mess of cum dripping out of her freshly fucked orifices, a dazed smile, satiated.
You blink and try to get her into focus but it's to no use—she blurs and vanishes before your eyes. And soon, you're back. Your workshop, in your chair, and still hooked into Miyeon. Still sitting back-to-back, your foreheads damp, breathing hard and ragged. The lights flickering a bright electric blue.
"Incredible," you breathe.
Miyeon sighs. "Yeah..." She detaches the link from behind her ear. Miyeon climbs to her feet, shakily making her way around your workspace. "I'm such a mess," She says, touching under her dress.
"Fuck, yeah me too," you sit there trying to process what just happened.
"I want a copy. The whole thing." Miyeon places a card down on the desk.
"I'll get started."
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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 5 months ago
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sleeping beauty | s.r. x liaison!fem reader
spencer checked the time and date, one thirty pm on june tenth. he took a deep exhale then pulled open his top desk drawer, staring at him were two tickets for a screening of the french adaptation for sleeping beauty. he remembered you mentioning how she was your first princess movie to own on vhs, saying how the ending dance sequence was truly enchanting.
usually spencer goes to these film festivals by himself, but when this was one of the movies announced for the weekend, he decided now was the time. spencer reid was gonna toughen up and ask you on a date.
“hey reid,” he startled at the feminine voice beside his desk. he shut the drawer closed and turned to see elle watching him with raised brows, “everything okay?” crossing her arms and cocking a hip against his desk.
“ye- yeah. is there- was there something you needed?” hoping she doesn’t mention anything about his weird behavior, but most people would argue he’s always weird.
elle pursed her lips, “uh no. just wanted to know what’s got you sweating in this cooled office.” profiling nonchalantly. spencer bit into his bottom lip, his own brows raising as he squinted his eyes, “i- i don’t know-“
his sentence stopped short when he heard your gentle giggles and then his eyes followed your figure as you walked beside penelope. your eyes caught his and you waved in greeted, smiling widely as you continued on your walk.
“so something involving our second best liaison.” elle hummed, spencer flinched again. he forget she was still there, “n- no…” his stuttering more present whenever you were of the subject.
elle perked up and leaned forward, her eyes were alight, “are you finally asking her out?” almost squealing at the idea.
“what do you mean, finally?” spencer questioned. he didn’t tell anyone about his infatuation with you. elle rolled her smokey eyes, “oh please. you may have an iq of one eighty seven, but whenever she’s in the vicinity or mentioned it’s slashed to sixty.”
spencer felt his cheeks warm, he hunched into himself, “that’s not true.” mumbling into his chest. “you also stopped talking just to watch her walk down the hallway,” elle scuffed.
spencer licked his lips and figured there was no point in lying, plus elle might give him some advice for the date. “i’m- i’m planning to take her to a movie festival. they’re playing a french version of sleeping beauty.”
elle cooed, “gonna whisper the translation in her ear? that’s a pretty morgan move to do.”
that worried spencer, “that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, right? i don’t want her thinking-“ elle held out her hands to stop his anxious rambles.
“just ask her. when presenting the tickets, ask if it’s okay to translate for her. if she says no, there might be something the theater has to fix that problem. but i’m sure she won’t mind.”
“who won’t mind what?”
spencer’s heart rate spiked when your voice was in earshot, then when elle moved to the side to show you joining the both of them he knew his ears started to flush red. he opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to steer the conversation.
“oh, how jj won’t mind if spencer steals you for a chat. i’ll go double check.” and with that fib elle sauntered away, leaving you confused.
“you wanted to talk with me?” hands held behind your back as you tilted your head. it prompted spencer to stand up, your head needing to lean back a bit to make eye contact.
he rubbed his palms along his pants, “uh yeah. i was- there’s this film festival that i visit regularly, many foreign originals or adaptations. and there’s gonna be a screening for a french sleeping beauty and i- i was wondering if you’d… would you like to- to go on a- on a date? with me?” he stuffed his hands into his pockets at the end when he noticed all his fidgeting.
your lips parted slightly and your head straightened, “i’d- i’d love too,” eyes twinkling like a star. “but i don’t know french.” an embarrassed smile at the information.
spencer moved a hand to scratch at his ear, “i- i could translate it for you. but i’d have to speak quietly and into your ear, is that- are you okay with that? we- we could also ask the employees for-“
you stopped him when you stepped closer and touched his forearm, a sweet smile shining upon him. “you can translate for me. i like listening to your voice.” your words a sweet syrup dripping over his heart.
spencer nodded dumbly, “o- okay. it’s- it’s friday at- at seven. so we can just- just leave after work.”
you nodded, “it’s a date.”
-
pt2
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ncroissant · 8 months ago
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switch! doppelgänger francis mosses x dom! gn! reader x sub! francis mosses
summary: double-teaming the real francis with doppel! francis
wc: 1.4k
content warning: nsfw, cock can be viewed as a strap, nipple play (personal fave), throat-fucking, blow jobs, hand jobs, dirty talk, doppel francis is referred to as doppel, wrist burns, tied up francis
author’s note: hellooooo my lovelies !! here is the long awaited fanfic that will hopefully satiate everyone’s preferences from the francis mosses poll yesterday (so i'm a pathalogical liar bc the way this was just sub! francis...) i plan to write many, many more sub! francis content because i cannot imagine him any other way. hope you guys enjoy this :) not proofread, minors please dni !!
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“hhGHK-”
“can’t hear you that well down there, francie. speak up f’me?” you smile devlishly, tilting your head to look down at your crotch. francis knelt there with brusied knees, sucking your cock, stroking what he couldn’t fit with two hands.
another francis emerged from behind you, chuckling at his dupilcate’s pitiful state. “is that what the francis of this world is really like? a milk delivery man during the day, then a pathetic little whore who chokes on cocks back at home?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“c’mon, use me too. i would never whine like this while suckin’ on that…” his fingers trailed down your v-line to the base of your cock. “i’m different from this loser…” he pouted, placing his chin on your shoulder, giving you a pleading look.
“m-mmnMPFH, g-GHK!” francis moaned, the vibrations shooting through your cock. he was whiny, but that’s what turned you on the most about your desperate little boyfriend.
you chuckled, gripping at his hair to make him look up at you. “don’t forget to look at me while i fuck your throat, francy,” you instructed as he nodded as best as he could with tears pricking his eyes. the look he gave you was so priceless, his mouth stuff full with your fat cock and drool dripping down his chin.
“yeah, but my dirty boy takes my cock the best,” you praised, making doppel frown. you thrusted your cock deep into francis’ throat, hitting the back of his throat every time you made even the slightest movement.
his eyes rolled back at the thickness and length of your cock, as he exhaled through his nose heavily. he felt his hands drifting down to his bulge, humping the carpet underneath.
you noticed, finally knowing what to do with doppel. “actually, i need you to take care of my needy little boy down there…” you shot francis a glare, shaking your head in disappointment. he whimpered at the action, his eyes widening with tears immediately streaming down his cheeks.
you pulled him off your cock, his saliva connecting to the tip. “haagnh…” he mewled out, his tongue still stuck out, waiting for a sweet treat. “c-cum on my tongue, please…” he begged, placing the tip of your cock on his tongue.
“such a needy boy. always wanting more than what you’re given, huh?” you tutted, grabbing your middle of your cock to tap it roughly on his tongue. he could only moan, feeling his hips shake in anticipating.
“that’s why i have him. to help me discipline you,” you pulled at doppel’s bow to tug him closer, untying it in the process. “c’mere francie. up on my lap,” you patted your lap, holding a hand out for him to get up.
he followed suit, stumbling over his feet a bit, but ultimately sitting on your lap with his back pressed against your chest. his cock was aching in his stupidly tight pants, begging to be let free. his face flushed at the sight of a very different, yet similar version of himself in front of him.
“doppel, c’mere sit on francie’s thigh,” you motioned him over, straightface. you, on the otherhand, begun to tie francis’ wrists above his head with the tie you had previously acquired. doppel obediently followed your instructions, sitting on one of francis’ spread thighs.
“w-what’re we doing?” francis stuttered, feeling exposed despite being fully clothed.
your arms looped around his body, rubbing his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. he jolted. “just punishing you,” you smiled, giving doppel a look. he quickly caught on, unzipping francis’ pants, palming him through his underwear.
your pointer finger tickled at his sensitive nub, while the other hand pinched at his already hardened nipple. francis’ weak spot was his nipples. the way he reacted when you even grazed his nipples made you want to bend him over a bucket and squeeze them until milk came out.
“o-oooH! hnnghh…w-why through my s-shirt?” he whimpered, jutting out his wet lower lip.
you gave him no response, flicking at his buds with your nails, making his arch his back. “gHK! y-you’re too, mnGHHK, rough!” he exclaimed, his brows furrowing. you loved to twist and tug at his nipples.
it was his fault for wearing such a tight uniform shirt. he was just asking to have you toy with his neglected buds that always poked out from the slightly nudge from the shirt fabric. your hands grope his chest, fingers rubbing over them quickly.
doppel wasn’t neglecting francis’ cock either. he was playing lazily with the wet spot on francis’ underwear that leaked pre-cum. it stuck to his pointer finger when he dragged it away, making doppel chuckle at his copy’s sensitivity.
“feel good, francie? squirmin’ so much, hm?” you placed your chin on his shoulder, watching the way his lips shaped into an “o”, mewling at the way you played with his perky nipples. you’d tug on one, flicking the other one quickly.
“g-good, HNGH, o-oghhh...s-so gnhh…” he could barely get a word out, lewd noises just falling out of his lips. you stopped teasing his nipples before slowly unbuttoning his uniform shirt.
doppel wasn’t taking francis seriously, stroking at a pace he thought was slow, but inhumanely too quick for francis. “human dicks are so small. you pleasing anyone with this tiny little guy, huh?” he teased, making eye contact with francis. “oh look, more pre-cum spilled out!”
francis felt how wet his cock was getting, covered in dopel’s spit and his own pre-cum. when he thought he only had to focus on doppel, your hands came back to grope at his chest. you could now visibly see the pink plushness of his nipples.
“looks like something might come out if i squeeze hard enough, right francie?” you whispered in his ear, rolling your fingers around the bud.
“same thing on my end,” doppel chimed in, rubbing his thumb over francis’ slit.
francis shivered at the thought, feeling his high come at lightning speed. the way the tips of your fingers would flick at his nipples combined with doppel’s inhumane strokes made the poor boy explode.
“ooonghhh, ‘m c-cumming soon, mmngh! HGK! c-cumming!” he bursted into doppel’s palm, collapsing into your arms. your movement slowed slightly, but you continued to flick at the tips of his nipples.
doppel took note of this, playing with the slit of his dick, playing with the foreskin. “human stamina is so pathetic. surely you’re not done now?” doppel leaned down, lapping francis’ cum with his monstrous cum.
“UGHK? i-i jus’, hic, came…hnnn…” he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling his aching tip burn. regardless of his pleads, he still rutting his cock into doppel’s mouth for additional friction.
“show me what your pretty chest looks like now, francie,” you ordered, as he puffed out his chest for you to see properly over his chest. you hummed deciding to untie him so he could give you a real show.
his wrists were red from shaking against the restraints so you pressed chaste kisses against the burns. “that’s not how you show me, is it?” he shook his head, shaking from the way doppel was sucking his dick.
francis’ fingers stretched the skin around his nipples, properly showing you the puffiness of his teased buds. he looked up at you with his fingers strewn across his chest with a teary-eyed expression.
“such a perfect boy f’me,” you praised, ruffling his locks. “so good that you can take another hour of teasing before taking my cock, right?” you grinned, your hands finding their rightful spot on his chest.
‘e-EUGH! yesyesyes…i can take it, hngh!” he nodded furiously, his hips shaking like a dog in heat.
“good boy,” you nodded, sticking your fingers into his already open mouth. you and doppel had a long night ahead of you.
taglist: @lordragamuffin
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amomentsescape · 9 months ago
Note
Could you write that the Slashers walk in on their lover changing and the lover has their top off, but is a bit embarrassed about their torso? -But kinda two versions though.
Such as a female lover with rolls or a chubby torso and a male lover with a more 'feminine' or hourglass torso.
Slashers with Reader That's Insecure About Their Body
Slashers x Fem! Reader, Slashers x Male! Reader
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, Lester, & Hannibal
A/N: Each of the Slashers will have two parts: one with Fem! Reader and one with Male! Reader :)
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Freddy Krueger
Fem! Reader:
He lets out a loud whistle when he first walks in to see you without your top on
But his amusement is quickly replaced with concern when he sees the small frown on your face
He immediately stands beside you and asks what's wrong
When you tell him about your insecurities and how you don't like what you see, he smiles softly
"Babe, you have a woman's body. And there is nothing sexier than that, hm?"
When you don't immediately respond, he begins pinching at your side a bit, starting to tickle you
You let out a few giggles as he pulls you close to him
"There's that smile."
Male! Reader
"Whatcha lookin' at babe?" Freddy asks, snapping you out of your thoughts
You just respond with a sad look
Freddy goes serious and asks what's wrong immediately
When you explain that you don't look "masculine" enough, he just laughs
"That's all phony," he reasons. "You'll always be man enough for me, and that doesn't have to do with how your body looks either."
When you give him a questioning glance, he just wraps his arms around you
"You fit perfectly in my arms like this, yeah?"
This causes you to blush a bit, making Freddy smile widely
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Michael Myers
Fem! Reader:
He doesn't really acknowledge you changing right away until he hears a little sniffle
He instinctively walks over to you and begins to look you over, making sure you're not hurt
But when you subconsciously bring your arms up over your torso, he looks at you confused
"Do you think I'm... attractive?" you ask after a bit of him staring
He quite literally rolls his eyes and grabs your hands, pinning them behind your back
With his other hand, he begins to massage along each dip and curve on your body
He lets out a guttural "mine" into your ear
And that's enough to put you more at ease
Male! Reader
Seeing you without a shirt on wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but seeing the way you were looking at yourself was
He comes over to you and stares at your reflection, already waiting for you to explain what's wrong
Instead of just shrugging it off once you told him, he steps closer
"Don't doubt yourself," he huffs out
He looks you over once again and then rest his hand on your arm, giving it a squeeze
He may not be the best at reassurance, but even just him trying to is saying a lot
And it's enough to make you feel a little more comfortable
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Jason Voorhees
Fem! Reader:
You could see him freeze up from the mirror when he entered the bathroom
Even after all this time together, he still becomes shy during private moments like these
But when he sees your sad face, he doesn't hesitate to step further into the room
When you finally tell him what's going on in your mind, he immediately shakes his head in response
You give him a confused look
It's then that he gets on both of his knees in front of you and pulls your whole body to him, his head resting on your torso
He won't let go until you tell him that you're feeling better
Male! Reader
He drops his machete down on instinct, pulling you away from the mirror
You explain to him how you're feeling about your body, and he responds with a tilt of the head
He thought you were perfect, and it seemed crazy to him that you didn't feel the same
He quickly decides to lead you to the couch, holding you close to him
He gently rubs up and down your back, his silent way of soothing you and showing appreciation towards your body
He's willing to do this all night if he has to
As long as you're feeling better, that's all that matters
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Thomas Hewitt
Fem! Reader:
He walks in and gives you a big smooch on the cheek like he does any other day
But instead of seeing you smile, he's met with a sour expression
He tilts his head in question, prompting you to talk to him
When you explain what's going on, he just looks at you in disbelief
How could you feel insecure at all? You are literally the most beautiful person he has ever met.
He moves in front of you and motions to your whole body with his hands
He then places them onto his chest, his way of telling you that he loves you
In response, you step into him and immediately feel his arms wrap around you, rocking back and forth a bit
Male! Reader
He smiles widely behind his mask at the sight of you getting ready for bed
But it soon drops when realizes that you are unhappy
After telling him your insecurities, he quickly grabs your hands and holds them in his
You can see in his eyes that he's genuinely sad that you feel this way
He'll hold you hands like this all night if he has to, not letting you go until he's certain that you're feeling better
He really wishes he could verbalize just how perfect and manly your body is to him
But what he can't express through words, he'll happily communicate through his actions
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Bubba Sawyer
Fem! Reader:
He lets out some happy claps when he steps into the room, already showing you praise for your body
You can't help but break out into a small smile, but your mind still felt heavy
He begins to show concern when he sees you aren't as happy as he is and walks over to you immediately
Before you even have time to explain what's wrong, he has you hoisted in his arms
He's spinning you around, bouncing up and down, and basically just trying to shake some giggles out of you
It inevitably works, and you find yourself unable to remember what had you so down in the first place
Male! Reader
Bubba can't help but admire you for a bit, just feeling all giddy with finally seeing you after a long day
But once you explain that you're not feeling well, he shows concern
He looks you over, completely confused on how you could ever feel self-conscious
It's at this that he also strips off his shirt, standing right next to you in the mirror topless
The suddenness of his actions causes you to let out a quiet chuckle
Bubba responds in delight, bouncing a bit beside you
And you better believe that if you find yourself feeling down again, he will not hesitate to rip off his shirt again in any attempt to make you smile
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Brahms Heelshire
Fem! Reader:
To be completely honest, Brahms is always lurking around somewhere
So when he sees from the walls that you're looking sadly at yourself in the mirror, he quickly hops into the room with you
"Don't," he orders you, making you face him instead
When you give him a confused look, he sighs
"It is an insult to think you are anything but beautiful," he speaks roughly
When you look down towards your feet, he grabs your face and makes you look at him
The moment you try to say anything, he smashes his lips to yours and silences you immediately
Male! Reader
Brahms has never shared any preference to how you looked
Everything about you was attractive to him, so seeing you pick yourself apart was more than frustrating
He quickly pulls you away from the mirror and has you stand in front of him instead
He takes your hand and places it over his chest
"You feel that? It's beating for you."
He'll keep your hand there until he's content with how you're feeling, quickly planting a kiss on your lips
The next day, you find that the list of rules has an extra step now
Will tell Brahms that you're handsome before bed
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Norman Bates
Fem! Reader:
He can sense something is off pretty quickly when you don't greet him at the door like normal
When he questions it, he finds himself in disbelief
He didn't think it would be possible for you to see yourself as anything but pretty
He quickly pulls you into a hug and shushes you, swaying back and forth
"You are so beautiful, I promise. And it's a privilege to be the one to prove it to you every day."
This is enough to bring tears to your eyes as you cuddle into him further
Male! Reader:
"You look great," Norman says when he enters the room
But you only respond with a huff
This causes him to walk over, asking you what's wrong
When you tell him, you can immediately see the sadness in his eyes
"Oh, honey, none of that is true."
He steps closer with his arms slightly open
You take this as an invitation and hug him, feeling him rub your back softly
"You'll always be the most wonderful person to me, inside and out," he whispers
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Billy Loomis
Fem! Reader:
His jaw goes slack when he walks in on you topless
But he immediately snaps out of it when he hears you sniffle a bit
The moment you tell him what's going on, he lets out a humorless laugh
"Every curve and every mark turns me on so goddamn much, don't you know that?" he whispers into your hair
He massages along your back and helps put your tense muscles at ease
"I can't get enough of you. I thought you'd know that by now."
He begins nipping at your shoulder a bit, finally forcing a smile out of you
Male! Reader
He gives you a quick kiss to the forehead when he first sees you
But when he immediately feels you tense up, he knows something is wrong
He gives you that look and you know that you have to spill the beans
When you finish telling him about feeling insecure, he scoffs
"Babe. I am the most shallow person I know. Your body is absolutely perfect, and that is the damn truth."
You give him a small smile at this
"And if anyone made you feel like this, tell me. They won't ever be a problem again..."
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Stu Macher
Fem! Reader:
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he says with a big goofy smile
But when you don't respond right away, he comes up to you a bit worried
He quickly ushers you to tell him what has you so upset
You tell him and he gets the most baffled look on his face
"You're joking, right?"
When you just stare at him, he quickly spins you around and places his hands on your stomach
"Look at you. You've gotta be blind to not see how hot you are."
He begins to tickle your stomach, causing you to smile right away
"That should be how you react every time you look at yourself, babe."
Male! Reader
Stu gives you a big smooch when he first gets home
Before you can even say anything about how you're feeling, he breaks out into a wide grin
"Look at you, baby! I am dating the most perfect man."
With that, he grabs your hand and makes you do a spin for him, looking at your topless figure
"I'll never get used to this sight," he mutters mostly to himself
This has you blushing immediately, and you can barely even remember feeling self-conscious earlier
Leave it to Stu to make you feel better without even trying
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Vincent Sinclair
Fem! Reader:
His shyness immediately dissipates when he realizes that you had been crying
He can feel his protectiveness kick in as he rushes over to you and looks you over, making sure you weren't hurt
When you reassure him that you're okay, you're just feeling self-conscious, he becomes confused
How could someone like you ever know a day of insecurity?
He thought you were an angel
He gently places his hand on your cheek and rubs away any residual tears
He simply shakes his head at your words, silently reassuring you that you were absolutely stunning in his eyes
Male! Reader
When you first ask him what he thinks of your body, Vincent immediately turns red
When you ask again if he really finds you attractive, he nods his head dramatically
Of course he did. Why would you think otherwise?
When you eventually share how you're feeling towards your body, he seems bewildered
When he sees you tearing up a bit, he immediately rummages through his desk and pulls out a little wax figurine
You quickly realize that it's you
He made a little statue of you because of how beautiful you are to him
That gets you crying for a different reason
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Bo Sinclair
Fem! Reader:
You can feel Bo's wandering eyes the moment he enters the room
Normally, his attention would make you feel good, but today didn't feel normal
The moment he feels you freeze under his touch, he pulls back with a look of concern
When you express that you're not feeling good about how you look, he scoffs
"Darlin' you really think I'd be here right now if I didn't think you were drop dead gorgeous?"
When you shrug, he rolls his eyes and squeezes you into him
"A little extra somethin' never hurt nobody..." he says, kissing the crook of your neck
Male! Reader
Bo goes into murder mode when he sees how upset you are
"Who did this?" he asks
But when you explain that it's all because of your insecurities, his face softens
When you tell him that you feel like your hourglass shape is unattractive, he walks up to you
He places his hands right where your waist comes in and gives a little squeeze
"This is my favorite part of you," he smiles. "It fits my hands just right. Don't you see how perfect you are for me, just like this?"
You become shy at his words so he cups your face and brings your gaze back to his
"No reason to be thinkin' like that now," he reassures
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Lester Sinclair
Fem! Reader:
He lets out a "wow" when he sees you topless at first
But when he walks up to you and feels how stiff you are, he realizes something is wrong
"Sweetheart, I promise you are the most beautiful person to me. I don't even know how I got someone like you."
He motions to your torso area
"All this is perfect."
When he finally gets a soft smile from you, he breaks out into a similar grin
"You know I've always liked having something to hold onto," he teases, making you give him a teasing slap on the shoulder
Male! Reader
He's quick to rush over when he sees your sad face
He sits beside you, fully willing to wait however long you need to open up to him
Once you do, he shakes his head in disbelief
"Darlin' you must be goin' crazy if you think you look anything but perfect," he says seriously
When you don't respond right away, he slides closer to you
"I ain't lyin'. If you paid any attention, you'd see me starin' at ya all the time."
He nudges you a bit and this breaks loose a little smile
"That's it, darlin'. Keep 'em comin'."
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Hannibal Lecter
Fem! Reader:
He can immediately tell something is off when he walks in
He quite literally knows you better than you know yourself
You don't even have to say anything for him to walk over and stand behind you, his hands resting along your waist gently
"Your body is what ancient goddesses were modeled after. I wish you could see how worshiped you are."
He takes your hand and brings it up to his lips and kisses it softly
You just look to the ground, blushing
"I suppose this will be a lesson that needs to be taught," he pulls you closer to him, "Let us begin now, hm?'
Male! Reader
Hannibal's specialty is reading people like books, and you were clearly no exception
He pulls you to him and has you sit on his lap
He often does this to help you feel more comfortable
He waits patiently for you to explain what he already knows
"Masculinity, my dear, is nothing but a construct. You can't lack something that only exists in disillusioned people. You have and always will be beautiful in my eyes."
You crack a small smile at this, not used to him being so open with you
"Now, put on that shirt you love so much and join me downstairs for dinner," he speaks softly
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deunmiu-dessie · 7 months ago
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price, after seeing you with kids, vows to himself that he'll get you pregnant.
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  "i'm so happy you guys could make it!"
    john watches fondly as you smile. it's wide and genuine, the action making your nose scrunch up; your head tilting to the side to mimic the woman's excitement─ and john can hardly take his gaze off of you. your eyes glimmer at the sight of your heavily pregnant best friend and the woman watches with a soft smile as the two of you make your way up their driveway. 
 your body is tucked away underneath john's arm, the usual warmth of your perfume; a sweet and spicy blend of saffron and sugared vanilla, has him unable to keep his hands off of you and he makes it obvious with the way his thumb rubs back and forth over your bare shoulder. and you're just as guilty as he is, with the way your hand is nestled snuggly in the back pocket of his jeans, the other stationed right atop his hand that rests affectionately on your shoulder. 
when the two of you can make it to gatherings in your neighborhood, there's bound to be talk and swooning about you and john the next day. most women were envious that even after being together for years, it seemed like the two of you were still in your honeymoon phase.
 "jas! babe, what are you doing up?" your voice is a teasing lilt as you shimmy your way out from under john's arm, looking back at him briefly to flash him a pleased smile. however, it's different from the one you sent jasmine earlier, it's softer, intimate, and familiar and it warms his belly better than bourbon ever could; his eyes soften and he smiles back, the crow's feet around his eyes deepening. 
despite john only having a few days off until his next mission, which he had wanted to spend with you, cuddled up next to the fireplace and watching movies, or perhaps cooking and baking with each other, all lovey-dovey and tête-à-tête─ you had instead asked if he could spare a day and go to a cookout hosted by a mutual friend. 
of course, he couldn't say no to you. not when you looked so reluctant to ask in the first place, with your eyebrows furrowed and a small frown marring your lips─ the same lips he had languidly kissed until it flipped right side up, with gentle murmurs of reassurance. besides, john didn't mind jasmine's husband. tom was a retired colonel of the army and they had hit it off quite quickly, especially given john's position. 
  reluctantly, john's eyes drift away from where you stand hugging jasmine, immediately spotting tom who is situated with a few other men at the grill. sucking in a breath, john made his way over to them, a smile splitting his cheeks when tom notices him, his tongs clanging against the metal. "well i'll be damned, if it isn't john, fucking, price." 
 the two men join hands briefly, "tommy, i've been gone a few months and she's already pregnant again." john chuckles softly at tom's sheepish look, the man's cheeks pinkening. "m'surprised y'r balls haven' shriveled up yet." john finishes, dropping into a squat to pluck a lone water nestled amongst the beers. “well, what can i say? she’s all over me!” tom, through his boisterous laughter at his own joke, notices the bottle and sends john a smirk, "you gone in a few days?"
 john grunts, hoping to save himself from the conversation, talk of work right now would only annoy him. tom clasps him on the shoulder firmly and sends him a mocking grin, perhaps this is why john liked tom, banter flowed naturally between the two of them. john was reminded of gaz time and time again when holding a conversation with the retired colonel. "it's as i said before. maybe it's time for you to settle down, you're not getting any younger."
  john grunts at that one too, eyes scanning the bustling cook-out to look for your comforting presence. he immediately finds you amongst your group of friends, a newborn babe nestled in the crook of your arms delicately and other children playing a simple version of tag around your legs. you're gazing down at the baby with envious adoration, eyes sparkling with awe and something akin to being maternal and it knocks the breath from his throat, his heart swelling within his chest at the sight of you. 
   and for a moment, he pictures that you're holding his child in your arms and that those are his kids circling your legs. and it's when your eyes somehow find his, your smile shy and your eyes almost pleading, that he swears to himself that he'll get you pregnant. and an ache to see your belly swollen with his child starts in his chest before traveling straight to his cock. tom chuckles, it's a knowing and judgment-free look. "i guess your mind is made up, huh captain?"
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occamstfs · 1 month ago
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Follow Your Nose
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Robin's not happy about visiting his student's frat house but with each heady breath he finds new pleasures to be gained from the experience.
Another Musk based Frat TF! Not breaking new ground but I like how this one turned out haha! Also in the wake of my contest I'm restarting the queue on my other blog so if you want to see what I read/have any burning questions send them over there! Hope you enjoy this little scent-centric romp! -Occam
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Robin hated being on this side of campus; he doesn't know why on Earth he agreed to do a homecall for office hours. Totally unprofessional of course, but the grad student was simply so tired of sitting in his cold office for nary a soul to show up. When Carlos reached out asking for some one on one assistance the T.A. agreed to venture to what he was told was a common study area. What Carlos hid from Robin was that it just so happened to be his frat’s living room. 
The researcher almost turned around and rain checked as soon as he saw. But after Carlos texted to thank him for his help, whatever scholarly version of the Hippocratic oath he took compels him to continue onward despite himself. It of course doesn’t hurt that the slightly younger man seems to have been made in a lab to attract Robin. Though the professional has done his absolute best to remain professional and push down the repressed desire. Though as he steps in this is made far more difficult.
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Carlos welcomes him into the frat house clad in a far too tight, clearly stained, tee and what seem to be, impossibly gaudy, similarly tight, athletic shorts. Immediately Robin’s face sears with blush and the smirk that is almost always at home on Carlos’ face grows wider. Before the fratty fiend can get a word in the grad student speaks up, fighting through an embarrassing voice crack, “uHm- Mr. Esperanza if you wouldn’t mind, could you change into something more appropriate for our session?” Carlos tilts his head, deliberately exposes his midriff as he scratches it. After a moment he laughs and answers remembering why he’s dressed like this, “Oh sure sure no problema bro.” 
Robin’s eye twitches as his student opts for bro rather than his title, name, or anything vaguely respectful. The T.A. hears the man’s hands scratching thick hair out of sight before he sniffs his hand and rubs his jaw, continuing, “It’s just uhhh, my laundry’s still in the machine so this is all I could throw on before you got in huhuh.” Robin holds his tongue from deriding the man’s shoddy planning, I mean for god’s sake they had an appointment!
So intent on hiding his attraction to, and irritation at, his student, Robin doesn’t quite catch the glint in his eye as Carlos offers an idea, “if you wouldn’t mind, uhhh, professor? You could go grab me some pants or somethin’” Not wanting to correct Carlos’ switch up to a title far loftier than his own and before he can even humor the idea that he’d wander deeper into the frat house, the bro thanks him as if he’s already agreed. “Thanks much lil bro- I’ll get us all set up here. It’ll be the third door on your right but you can probably just follow your nose hahah!”
Robin squints his eyes at the brazen assumption that he’d do anything of the sort. And yet, preferring anything to confrontation, he acquiesces with a sigh. The faster they start the faster Robin’s out of here. But a step down the hallway his nose wrinkles as he realizes that Carlos was not being cute, he can genuinely smell the laundry room far down the hall. Taking a deep breath and centering himself before the air is full of more musky sweat than oxygen, he shifts his jaw in irritation at the situation he stumbled himself into and presses onward.
Robin pushes open the unreasonably heavy door of the laundry room and enters. He hears the door slam but keeps his eyes forward as he endeavors to spend as little time in here as possible. Pushing down rational questioning of why he is doing this, in his haste he makes the mistake of opening the washing machine rather than a dryer that would presumably hold Carlos’ clothes. Before he even realizes his mistake he is almost blasted back by the potent musk spilling out of the drum. Choking out a ‘why wasn’t this run…” as his eyes glaze over and he is overwhelmed by the scent.
It’s as if there are more particles of sweat in the air than, uh, air. His mouth falls open to avoid smelling but that only heightens the experience and leads to him taking deeper breaths. Despite everything in him screaming to leave now, Robin feels himself drawn towards the machine that simply must have been intentionally compiled to smell as musky as possible. As the seconds pass Robin feels his body begin to move of its own accord, like an out of body experience he sees himself inch closer to the machine. There’s a struggled swallow as he is suddenly conscious that he is drooling at the scent of the frat’s dirty laundry.
When his hand reaches into the filthy load of laundry he feels his autonomy return and he quickly draws back. Clothes almost crunchy with sweat, and other substances, he stands stunned as he tries to understand what he just did, why he did that. Only then does he notice that he is so hard that anyone who glanced in his direction would notice. It almost hurts as his cock strains against his underwear and pulses with deep need. 
Priority rapidly shifting to hiding his massive erection should Carlos stumble in Robin opts to adjust his pants. Rather than doing it surreptitiously as he would usually do, he shoves his hand directly in his underwear in a manner distinctly boorish. Notably he also plods around his underpants with his dominant hand, the same one that only just left the frat’s collection of their dirtiest tops, bottoms, and drawers.
Stained hand now touching his cock he is overwhelmed with the desire to never remove it from this spot again. Drool still pooling in his mouth, Robin almost forgets his surroundings as cock seems more impressive than it’s ever been before now. Or no, his hand seems larger, rougher, more powerful. He squints as the seconds pass and the sensations continue to shift before he looks down to find that his bulge is indeed larger than he has ever seen it. Biting his lip he glances at the door and, demonstrating his clearly fading rationality, decides ‘fuck it’ and pulls out his cock.
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Haloed with pubes that are growing thicker, spreading further, with each quivering breath and graced touch from his stained hand. Pre drips from the head of his thicker cock as it stands high, beginning to rival the length of his forearm as it inches longer with each heartbeat, each uncontrollable pulse. He cups his balls to remove them from his underwear and is again struck dumb. God they’re itchy. 
He scratches at them as his nails almost draw back into his hand, to the eye of an observer they shift from manicured to the deliberately uncared for, dirty nails of a frat bro. Thus he must dig even deeper to satisfy his itching balls as long, thick curls begin to spread across them. Each drag across finds them larger than they were less than a second before. Each mindless scratch they hang lower, stretch his sack larger as his balls begin to rival the size of eggs and churn to fill him with hormones that will make it all the harder for him to think his way out of this, or any, room. 
Despite his mind awash, feeling his hand begin to mindlessly move to start masturbating in this frat’s laundry room he regains his senses. Fear suddenly overwhelms his lusts and need for pleasure as he tries to inspect his body. Looking down at his hands he finds they both have changed and the horrors have not stopped there. Thick dark hair and a haphazard tan have spread up his forearms and as he feels heat begin to burn on his bicep it’s clear this is a situation still ongoing. Robin struggles to stand and falls over on his face, squarely landing in some brute’s discarded briefs. Fighting back a smirk as he is inoculated with a direct dose of his frat brother’s musk, Robin rolls over in fear of the changes that must be about to begin on his face.
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His nose adjusts as memories of breaking it twice assert themselves into his mind. Rob feels his biceps bulge against his forearms as he raises his hands to his face. Grunting and ignoring how much deeper his voice is as it echoes in the room, he talks to himself to begin his flight, “Mrgh, I gotta, get out of here.” Trying to pull his pants up, before they can even struggle to cover his monumental bulge and increasingly cushioned ass, his jeans are caught on his thighs. Muscle and fat press larger as they become two massive meaty trunks. Dropping the pants to inspect his suddenly impressive legs he flexes them and goes weak at the knees as desire tries to take over once more. 
Rob only just fights these rising instincts and makes for the door. Then does he find the most clearly sinister aspect of this situation yet, it’s locked. His uhh, boy? His bro. Yeah his bro trapped him in here. Fuckin’ Carlos did this to him on purpose he bets. Leaning against the door he finds his breathing suddenly inhibited by the tight shirt that he’s been wearing. Seeing his waist has apparently filled out, his stomach quivers with butterflies. He’s always been envious of his bro’s forms but man he looks just as killer huhuh. His widening upper body sends tears through the shirt without his hands even needing to tear the top off. 
Dressed in nothing but torn shreds on the floor of the, er his, frat’s laundry room Rob’s clouded mind observes the final touches of his new form. Weighty pecs pulse larger and hang over his new thick torso. Hamhock thighs frame a bulge that would make any mouth water. He scratches stubble growing thicker on his face while he begins to thoughtlessly masturbate against the laundry room door. Stretching his neck as it thickens to hold up a head growing thicker and mind growing duller, his mouth falls open and he appreciates the musk of his bros as if it's the most pleasant thing in the world to him. Were this the rest of his life the horny bro wouldn’t mind. Rubbing his torso as thick curls begin to decorate him like a beast. Treasure trail stretching from pubes thicker than foliage. He raises his free arm to bathe in his own musk.
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His mouth waters as he realizes he doesn’t need to use these other’s fucker clothes to get off! He’s got the sweet stuff right here. Any shreds remaining of the prudish, frat-phobic teacher’s assistant vacate as he delights in his own pit. Thickening curls spread outward from deep in his pits as a truly voluminous mass begins to press out from under his arms. His tongue stretches out from his mouth into the jungle as it grows thicker, perpetually soaked in his new musk. And then Rob loses control. Decorating the walls and himself and finally adding his own mess to their little ode to locker rooms everywhere. 
Tongue out enjoying himself in what is apparently his new home, sweat begins to pool under the man’s discovery of new delights. It seems like forever for him but in reality, a few minutes later he feels the door push into him, “Yooo bro what’s takin’ you so long?” Carlos opens the door and pinches his nose to avoid the stink of the room and the overpowering scent of Rob’s first time.
 Rob’s dumb smirk and glazed eyes meet Carlos’ mischievous grin and the new brother speaks in his new bass, “Uhhh, didn’t you lock me in here bro?” His brother stifles laughter and ruffles Rob’s sweaty new haircut, “You dumbass huhuh- It’s a pull door.” It takes a few seconds for Carlos’ words to sink in but after realizing that he simply forgot how doors work he joins in laughing loud enough to shake the foundations of their frat house. “Brooo huhuh!” 
“Now throw something on so we can figure this shit out!” Rob goes to grab clothes from some stray hamper filled with someone’s dirty laundry and heads out. Walking out of his musky captivity, Rob finds a new warmth fill him as he wanders into the house, into his house. The frat didn’t quite need a new member but Carlos is more than happy to make the most out of his new brother. Not all of them are so unabashedly into their own musk but judging by Rob’s changes and the already returning erection in his shorts, Carlos can’t wait to see what the two of them will get up to in their new lives together.
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ozzgin · 9 months ago
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okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere
nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.
nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?
nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names
nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.
nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!
mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…
mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…
mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.
nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.
people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.
tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other
have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3
-Ash
A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭
Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader
They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?
Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything
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You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.
The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.
Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"
He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.
How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".
The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.
And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.
You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.
The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.
You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.
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livwritessometimes · 19 days ago
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So What Now?
: Part 12 (Lando's Version)
: Who said navigating through your feelings was gonna be easy?
: Prev | Next
: Series Masterlist
: Main Masterlist
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Chuckling at Kika's message, Y/n set her phone down on the nightstand and lay back on the bed.
She let out a deep sigh, convincing herself that maybe it was for the best. Closing her eyes, she tried to push away the lingering disappointment she felt. Just as she was about to drift off, the doorbell rang.
Opening her eyes, she looked at the clock. 11:45 PM. Frowning, Y/n made her way towards the door, annoyed at whoever thought it was a good idea to disturb her so late in the night.
Angrily, she swung the door open, only to find herself face-to-face with him.
"Lando!" Y/n exclaimed, surprise evident in her voice.
There stood Lando, still wearing the same clothes from earlier that night. His hair was even messier than she remembered. It looked as if he had run his fingers through it multiple times.
"Hi," He said, a little out of breath.
"What are you doing here?" Y/n asked.
"Umm," The Lando in front of her now was completely different from the one she was used to. The usual confidence in his eyes was gone, along with the familiar smirk on his lips. This Lando avoided eye contact and was constantly fidgeting with his fingers.
"Did you forget something?" Y/n asked, opening the door a little further.
Looking up at her, Lando swallowed hard. He could feel his pulse quicken. It's now or never!
"Yes," He said with a shaky voice.
Y/n tilted her head, urging Lando to continue.
"This," He said as he stepped forward and captured her lips in a heated kiss.
For a second, Y/n was too stunned to do anything. As soon as the reality of what was happening hit her, she kissed him back. She felt his hands cup her cheeks, his thumb slowly caressing her cheekbone as he pulled away.
"What was that?" Y/n asked, her voice almost a whisper.
"I didn't want the night to end before I had the chance to do this." Lando confessed, looking into her eyes. "I should have done this earlier," Lando admitted, regretting not doing so before.
Smiling softly at him, Y/n asked, "Then why didn't you?"
"Honestly? I don't know," Lando said sheepishly as he looked back at her.
"So now what?" Y/n asked as she looked back at him.
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Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @papaya-twinks | @vintagefucksstuff | @st4rg1rln | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tashisgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @anthonylockwoodandco111 | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @niyu2208 |
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crushmeeren · 1 month ago
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࿐ part one of my kinktober series! Hoshina’s version can be found here! enjoy little bats!
࿐ master list link ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ knotting, breeding, scent kink, biting/marking, fighting as foreplay, a/b/o dynamics, praise kink, mentions of blood, mentions of reader becoming pregnant.
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ You’ve danced around each other since you were kids. It didn’t start as something romantic, no, it only developed into something more when you turned into teenagers. Once you both reached 21, it’s no secret who you’re deliriously hoping will pin you down during your first, and only, mating run.
⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣
You were six the first time you heard Katsuki. Yes heard, not met.
You vividly recall how purple and blue chalk had stained your knees. That it had dusted the fraying hem of your jean shorts like snow as you scribbled pictures as fast as your chubby hands would allow. The concrete of your driveway was filled with your imagination when their car pulled into the house across the street.
Your ears had twitched and perked up when a car door slammed shut. But it was the furious shouting and growling of a small boy that captured the entirety of your attention. An answering warning snarl radiated from the woman standing before him and that piqued your interest even further.
You took a break from, what you would call your masterpiece, and tilted your head to the side as you spotted a young blonde boy with gravity defying spiky hair, close to you in age, stomping his foot, baring tiny canines, and pointing furiously at who you assumed was his mother. After all, he did look like the miniature version of her and her face was pinched with the same anger that he displayed.
You studied them curiously as they screamed at each other when a man with the same crazy hair stepped in between them to calm the situation. You startled suddenly, chalk slipping from your fingers when your mom called your name, and causing the blonde’s scowl to turn your direction instead. Unsure of what else to do, you raised your chalk covered hand and waved tentatively, a shy smile curling your lips and showing off your own premature fangs.
His frown rooted even deeper into his expression in response. Your sharp vision had allowed you to watch as his cheeks turned pink and splotchy from the unexpected attention you gave him. You grinned a bit wider and he abruptly raised his tiny hand to flip you off before spinning and storming towards his front door. His mother had choked on her next breath and screeched “Katsuki you little shit! Don’t you have any manners?!”
His rude behavior should’ve offended you, but instead it made you laugh so hard that your little belly started to cramp and your own face burned with delight. Safe to say you were, for lack of a better word, excited to get to know the new wolf that just moved in.
When your parents introduced you later on, you became fast friends. As brash and nasty as his attitude was, you were able to see the kinder side of him on occasion. You also couldn’t deny that he was unfairly entertaining, even on his worst days.
You both shared similar interests, and he was so cool in your eyes that you were more enamored with him than the sticky mud you both used to make pies with after it rained. Not to mention he always smelled of caramel, which you loved. It reminded you of the first bite of freezing vanilla ice cream with warm caramel syrup drizzled on top.
As you got a bit older, you were allowed to start shifting together. As wolves you’d explore the dense forest behind your home every weekend when the moon was high in the sky. You’d wrestle, playfully chasing and hunting rabbits until your paws hurt. Then you’d take a dip in the chilly creek until your fur hung heavy and was soaked through to the bone. They were, without a doubt, the best moments of your young life.
Reaching your teen years, however, was….different. Your parents took great care and time to teach you about your secondary dynamic. About alphas, betas, omegas, how they all related to one another. About heats and ruts and mates. It was overwhelming at first, but it did help you make sense of the rapidly evolving feelings you were harboring for your best friend. Nevertheless, you continued to take on life side by side with Katsuki.
When you were 16, you presented as an omega. Katsuki was an alpha, and truly you couldn’t even be surprised by the news. What you weren’t expecting was just how intense your feelings got for him after that, how much more powerful and attractive his scent had turned. You were aware you were in love with him by that point, but once you both presented Katsuki wouldn’t leave your side for a single second.
And then late one night he snuck into your bedroom through the window and confessed his feelings with a bright, rare blush of embarrassment on his face and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. You’d been together ever since. That was five years ago, give or take.
⇣ ⇣ ⇣
Mating runs are traditional for werewolves in your small home town. Once you reach 21, you’re able to participate in one to officially become part of a mated pair. It could be with someone who you’ve only just met, someone from a long term relationship, or anyone in between.
Four times a year, during a full moon, the mating run takes place. It begins in the clearing at the edge of the forest just outside your town and ends at sunrise or once you’ve been pinned down and knotted by your chosen mate. The omegas take off first, then the alphas shortly after.
The heart pumping thrill of being hunted is what pushes you at a breakneck pace now. The bite of autumn wind whips through your fur, but it’s lost to the heat of adrenaline. You dig your claws into the earth each time your paws make contact to send yourself full throttle even further into the forest. You made sure Katsuki was aware you wouldn’t let him catch you so easily.
Seeing in the dark is an advantage, allowing you to dodge trees and jump over obstacles. The muscles in your hind legs clench and propel you over a decent sized log, which inadvertently lands you in a small creek. You create a decent splash on impact and pause only for a moment to get a much needed drink when a set of thundering paws echoes in the distance.
You huff irritably. You stopped for only few seconds, how the hell has Katsuki caught up to you already? You should’ve known better than to assume you could rest at all. Once more you begin sprinting in the opposite direction of your soon to be mate.
Your pulse skyrockets and a yip of excitement escapes you before you manage to reign it in. Katsuki’s answering excited howl sends a shiver down your spine. Now, you’re able to catch stronger whiffs of singed caramel as he closes in. His scent only tinges burnt when he’s riled up.
You burst through a line of trees, skidding to a halt and kicking up dirt in a small field. You whip around to wait for him, panting harshly to catch your breath. Sure enough, within seconds, a huge sandy colored wolf explodes into the clearing, slowing to a trot and halting about 15 feet away.
Tail wagging vigorously, you press your front half to the forest floor, snarling playfully and snapping your jaws in invitation. You’re ready to fight. Katsuki huffs in a way that mimics amused laughter and answers you with a deep rumble of his own, mirroring your position. You pretend you’re about pounce, but fake him out by twisting and taking off like a shot.
You only cover a pathetic few feet of ground when a bag of bricks hits your side, tackling you into the dirt with no mercy. The air’s knocked from your lungs when you land, and the two of you begin to roll as you try to end up on top. Katsuki snaps his teeth too close to your ear for comfort and you sneak your hind paws underneath to kick violently at his belly.
The push knocks his balance off center and you take advantage of the slight window to slip out from underneath him. Standing, you shake out your fur but then razor blade teeth close on your back leg and yank until you fall to the floor. A startled yelp rings free and you twist to the best of your ability to try and rip a chunk out of Katsuki’s fluffy ear.
Katsuki’s chest rumbles teasingly, dodging your retaliation, and spicy warm caramel floods your nose. Your furious growling tapers off into a whine the more the air fills with his scent. You tug your leg petulantly, but a warning snarl from Katsuki has you sinking into the forest floor in defeat.
Katsuki yips happily and releases you, allowing you to roll over and show him your belly as a sign that he’s caught you and of your trust in him. The ash blonde wolf shifts to hover over you and bends to gently to place his jaws around your throat, applying just enough pressure to spike your heart rate.
With practiced ease and only a minimal amount of pain, you shift until your fur is replaced by bare skin, damp grass tickling your back. Katsuki releases his hold and stares down at you, ruby eyes shining. Your lips curve into a smile and you reach up to pet the soft fur on his head and nose. Your mate licks your hand once, causing you to laugh, before joining you seconds later.
He rests his hands by your head instead of paws and straddles your naked waist. His cock is already partially filled out and resting on your stomach when he smirks down at you, an air of infuriating arrogance surrounding him.
“Thought you were gonna make it difficult for me to catch you,” he teases with a husky tone, leaning down to mouth at the scent gland under your jaw. “You taste so fuckin’ good baby, I’m gonna to eat you alive.”
The noise Katsuki makes stands at the edge of a whine when he drags his tongue over your pulse point, dick twitching with interest. You moan softly, fingers threading through thick golden hair, and you bend your neck to expose even more skin to him.
“Yeah,” you breathe, pride welling up in your chest as your eyes flutter shut. “I knew you’d catch me Katsuki. You’re the strongest alpha after all, and you’re mine.”
Katsuki’s chest vibrates with approval, nipping harshly and sucking a mark into the hollow of your throat. It aches dully and you squeeze your thighs together, a feverish heat starting to consume you wholly.
“Such a pretty girl, sweet fuckin’ omega, all for me yeah?”
“Forever Katsuki,” you confirm. “I’m your omega, your mate until we die. So claim me the way we both want, please.” You tug desperately at his hair until his mouth is a hair’s width away from yours, gaze half lidded and starving.
It takes absolutely nothing else to bring the two of you into a sloppy, heated kiss. Your pussy clenches when one of his hands sneaks down to grab a handful of your tit, squeezing and pinching your nipple.
Your lips part and Katsuki eagerly pushes his warm tongue into your mouth. The rhythmic, slick glide has your lower half weeping for his attention. A molten type of heat burns low in your gut and your inner thighs have gone slippery as your mate works you up to an unbearable degree.
You suck on Katsuki’s tongue and his breath hitches before he releases it as a breathy moan, cock fully swollen and throbbing repeatedly. You squirm under him impatiently, noticing the precum gathering near your bellybutton. You trap the tip of his tongue between your teeth and bite mischievously.
He pulls back to glare halfheartedly at you, and the look on his face is blazing, pupils wildly dilated and cheeks flushed beyond compare. You can tell he wants to devour you and you need it just as badly. He chews his bottom lip, gaze trailing over your tits and flickering back to your face as your own cheeks burst into flames. Your blush is so violent it burns your eyes.
Katsuki starts shifting backwards until he can get between your thighs, brushing his lips down your sternum and sucking briefly on your nipple.
“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ pussy, okay sweetheart?” He noses at your hip bone, stopping to inhale deeply at the crease of your thigh, groaning as his eyes shut. “Then I’m gonna knot you and you’re not fuckin’ leavin’ until you’re full with my pups, you hear me?” He asks hotly.
Your head tilts to the sky with a whine, something like electricity running through your blood. You fist his hair and pull restlessly. “Jesus Katsuki, stop fucking talking and do it.”
Katsuki laughs, voice full of amusement. “You’re lucky I like when you’re bitchy.”
He doesn’t waste another moment, parting the soft lips of your pussy by dragging his tongue upwards until he can circle your clit a few times. The next lick has you fighting for air, muscles jumping as your skull digs into the surface below. He repeats the action multiple times and then places the flat of his tongue on your swollen clit, shifting his head side to side.
The cry of his name gets stuck in your chest when sucks on your clit for the first time, the rolling wave of pleasure branching from your pelvis outwards. You can’t take much more, the animalistic instinct in the back of your mind making it seem as if you’ll die if you don’t take his knot soon.
You push at his forehead, asking for his attention. “Katsuki, c’mon, knot me already,” you plead to no avail. He pulls away by an inch and grins coyly at you.
“Nah, you’re cummin’ like this because I’m telling you to. Then I’ll knot ya, ya spoiled little princess.”
“At least use your fingers then!”
“Hell no! You’re not cummin’ with anything inside you unless it’s my cock.”
Releasing his hair, you push up to your elbows and pout to help persuade your case, but he doesn’t pay you any mind. Katsuki sinks his nails into your inner thighs and your brain fills with cotton when his tongue returns to play with your clit. His heavy lidded stare makes you shiver and the way he eats you out is so obscene you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut when you cum.
Katsuki lets his tongue spread you open and lazily gather every drop of your orgasm until his spit is all that remains. He raises up to sit on his heels, and the moonlight highlights the way his chin shines because of you. An intense pulse of affection accompanies the thought of how breathtaking your mate really is.
Katsuki smoothes his palms up your thighs, over your belly and trails them up your rib cage before coming back down to squeeze your hips. You shift to sit up and lean in to brush your lips gingerly with his and then Katsuki presses back into it even harder. Demanding fingers grip your jaw and break your kiss. Katsuki peers at you, smirking and rubbing a thumb over your jawline.
“Turn over,” he murmurs, tone smooth like whiskey. A thrill races through you at the command and in the blink of an eye your cheek is squished into the grass, elbows resting by your head, and your ass is high in the air, presenting for him like you’ve wanted to all. damn. night.
The thick, blunt tip of Katsuki’s cock nudges against you, but he doesn’t allow it to catch. You jolt in surprise when he slides over your the rim of your ass instead, toes curling with anticipation.
You whine loudly in protest and Katsuki croons softly to you, relaxing some of your tense muscles. He lets out a deep rumble of approval and places a hand on your tailbone to guide your hips backwards. You’re panting when he finally slides halfway in, moaning in relief from the stretch.
“Katsuki.”
He hums distractedly, holding tight to your hips and rocking his hips shallowly until his cocks fit snug inside, balls pressed against you.
“I love you,” you manage to say, breath catching in your throat when he pulls his hips back and then thrusts back in fluidly.
“I love you, more than anything,” Katsuki promises, tone so sincere you have to shut your eyes in the face of it. He knocks your knees further apart, curling over your back and searches for your hands. His long fingers lace through yours and your spine curves even deeper as he pins you in place.
There’s not much talking after that. You’re too focused on the delicious drag of his cock in and out of your pussy, carving out a space made just for him. He fits inside you perfectly and goosebumps litter your skin each time he makes you remember. Sweat beads swiftly in the valley of your breasts and dirt paints your cheek as you rock with each of Katsuki’s deliberate thrusts.
You scent must be suffocating him because he’s sniffing the back of your neck and whining every other breath. It’s all the same to you because you’re drowning in caramel and the sound of your mate’s hips bouncing frantically off your ass is quite literally the loudest noise surrounding you.
Your gut clenches tight, tight, tight and you’re so close you can’t fucking stand it.
“You’re gonna make me cum! Knot me Katsuki, please!” You manage to untangle one of your hands and reach backwards to push at his stomach, the muscles straining and rolling under your touch.
He moves with you easily and snickers in your ear. Warm breath tickles your nape and your gums start to ache, the omegan urge to tear into his neck and claim him mercilessly grows stronger by the second.
“Yeah? Think your pretty little pussy is ready for my knot sweetheart?” Katsuki huffs between words and then out of nowhere he’s unsticking himself from your back and settling on his calves, cocking slipping free. You’re furious, glaring at him over your shoulder and curling your lip into a snarl.
“What the hell Katsuki!” You whip around to face him fully and shove at his chest. Katsuki rolls his eyes and snags your wrist, yanking you forward so you have to catch yourself on his shoulders. He grabs your waist and forces you to walk on your knees until you’re hovering over his lap.
“I’ve been waitin’ for this fuckin’ moment my entire life. There’s no way in hell I’m knottin’ you without being able to see the sweet expressions you’re gonna make.”
Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly, but before you can answer he’s applying pressure to your hips and helping you sink back down onto his still stiff dick. You moan his name, pressing your sweaty forehead to his and huffing hotly against his mouth.
True to his words, his knot’s begun to swell. It presses against your pussy, begging to pop inside each time you sit down. You ride him roughly, nails sharpening into claws without your permission and breaking the skin on your mates shoulders. Katsuki inhales sharply and howls briefly in excitement.
His canines start to stretch even longer and, with a burst of caramel scent so thick you can taste it, he bullies you down onto his knot. It burns, but the coil that’s been building steadily in your gut breaks then, flooding your limbs with heat.
You all but sob as you cum, claws carving into the base of his skull as he surges forward and sinks his teeth into the mating gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your wail is earsplitting when Katsuki digs those razor like teeth in even harder. His cock throbs, filling you with hot, sticky cum. It rips another orgasm out of you, pussy absolutely choking his knot.
“Katsuki let go!” You’re thrashing, speaking through gritted teeth. “I need to bite you, please!” Your voice is hoarse and wrecked, rising anxiously as you struggle to get free. His scent is so potent it’s making you dizzy.
Your mate groans lowly, finally unhinging his jaw with a heavy purr rattling throughout his chest and tightly grips the base of your neck. Blood trickles down his chin and he shoves your face into his throat, unable to give a single fuck about anything else but being claimed by you.
“Bite me, omega. Make me your mate.”
You moan deliriously, eyes stinging with relief as your teeth cut through his skin like butter and pierce his mating glad, a metallic and overwhelmingly caramel taste floods your mouth.
Katsuki’s cock kicks yet again and he growls hotly, locking his arms around your waist to still your squirming. The muscle in your jaw flexes, allowing your teeth to sink in deeper and his growl abruptly cuts off into a high pitched whimper.
Your mate’s chest heaves from the toll your bite is taking, and you release your jaw unhurriedly to draw it out for as long as he’ll allow. You lick over the wound a few times to help cease the blood flow and Katsuki shivers. Gingerly he shifts your arms up to wrap around his neck and he instructs you to hang on.
He delicately lowers the two of you to the ground, resting on his back so his chest becomes a cushion for your exhausted body while you wait for his knot to go down.
“That’s right, such a good girl. You take my knot so fuckin’ well, you’re incredible. You look stunning with my bite,” Katsuki praises, chest rumbling gently. The soothing sensation of it starts to make you drowsy. He rubs your back lazily as he speaks and you both start to come down from the high.
You purr delightedly, unable to resist teasing him even as your eyes get droopy. Your heart’s complete now. “You look even more gorgeous with my bite, Katsuki.”
He scoffs, pinching your hip playfully, and you purposefully clench around his knot in response. It rips a startled gasp from him and you giggle.
“I have a fuckin’ tease for a mate,” he sulks, letting his head thump onto the dirt floor below. You sound unbearably smug when you reply.
“Yeah well, you better get used to it baby. You’re stuck with me forever now, whether you want to or not.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I wouldn’t want any other omega in the fuckin’ world anyways, idiot.”
About a month later, when you tell Katsuki you’re pregnant, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins proudly, saying “told ya you weren’t leaving that clearing until you were knocked up with my pups.”
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alygator77 · 5 months ago
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∘₊✧─moment of weakness─✧₊∘
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✧ pairing. satoru gojo x fem! reader (also ft suguru geto)
✧ summary. after a rough night at the bar, you are drunk out of your mind and decided to ask your best friend satoru to come pick you up to take you home. but during the car ride the alcohol starts giving you courage, making you feel rather bold as you make a move on your best friend. did this ruin your friendship? was this a mistake, or does he reciprocate your feelings?
✧ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, smut, bit of angst, reader is drunk for first half, friends to lovers, mutual pining, somewhat public sex, car sex, groping while driving, dry humping, handjob teasing (m), fingering (f! receiving), satoru and reader in their 20s and both work at jujutsu high, both are powerful sorcerers, satoru takes care of you while you’re sick, satoru is also being an idiot, suguru makes a move on you, takes place before suguru leaves jujutsu high, will end with fluff
✧ words: 12.7k (yeeeeah idk what happened)
✧ a/n. this will be two parts because I'm currently sitting at 20k words, I have no clue how this happened... so I'm splitting it up. anyways, this is just a little side story that I have had brainrot for and had to get it out :)
✧ part two: moment of passion
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“'toruuuu~” you call his name is a singsong childish voice while he pulls you into an embrace outside of the bar. Leaning into you, he can smell the liquor on you as you sway a little and give him an adorable pout. It’s not often he gets to see you like this.
“Take me home please, I'm bored here,” you sigh and nuzzle into the crook of his neck.        
Amused at this side of you, an affectionate hum leaves his lips as he tugs you even closer. You're being extra clingy today. Satoru can't help but snicker softly, his hold around your waist tightening. His hand slides lower to rest against the curve of your hip; slender, nimble fingers digging into your skin through the thin layer of your skirt.
A low amused chuckle falls from his lips as you snuggled into him. His face buries into your hair, his chin pressed softly against your tilted head. "You're such a needy little thing," he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and almost ticklish. "And drunk off your damn ass, too. I’ll take you home."
Despite his words, his arms stay where they are. He was relishing in this clingy version of you, much more than the usual, sober you who tends to get irritated by him and push him away.
But who were you to push him away right now? Typically, you would do so in an attempt to distance yourself, to keep yourself in check. Afterall, Satoru is your best friend, but underneath the surface there has always been a part of you that craves more from him. Yet in this moment, you simply want to enjoy his gentle embrace.
With a soft exhale into Satoru's neck, you become enveloped in his warmth. It's a soothing contrast from the cool bite of the outside wind. A low groan escapes his lips as your warm breath tickles his neck, each puff sending a jolt of electricity running down his spine. He wishes he could stay like this forever.
It's always been this way— you're the only person who can make him feel things like this. Satoru and you have been friends for years. It started off as mere fellow jujutsu sorcerers, working together on missions, defeating curses together, but at one point it grew into something much more personal, with your late-night phone calls, lunch dates and movie marathons. That’s how it’s always been now, for as long as you can remember – you, Satoru and Suguru. And despite how much Satoru can get on your nerves sometimes, with his childish demeanor, emotional constipation and somewhat cocky attitude, he is always there for you.
You click your tongue before speaking, a cheeky smirk upon your lips. "Suguru challenged me to a drinking contest. Who am I to say no?"
Satoru's eyebrow quirks up at your response. Trust Geto to influence you into doing stupid things. Though, a subtle hint of irritation stirs within him when you mention his name. He begrudgingly recalls that as of recently, his best friend's gazes tends to linger a moment too long on your figure whenever interacting with you. Satoru’s admiration for you has grown into something he can’t quiet explain. He’s never felt this way about, well, anyone. Yet somehow, you manage to pull at him, thawing the icy heart he shields from everyone else. But he’s scared – if he is to act on those feelings, he’s certain it’ll only cause you both pain. He’s the strongest sorcerer after all, that easily makes you a target. So, he chooses to push his emotions down and continues to be what he’s always been for you, your best friend.
"Of course you're not. You're a glutton for punishment," he sighs, his fingers giving your hip a gentle squeeze. "You just had to prove yourself, huh? Why do I have a feeling you didn't even last a few shots? You're such a lightweight," he teases, his tone a mixture of amusement and affection.
His hand moves lower to hold the back of your thigh – a gasp escaping your lips, immediately followed by a soft giggle as he easily lifts you off your feet. “You're lucky I'm here to take you home, princess."
With a gentle sigh, you rest your head against his chest as he holds you in his embrace. The soft sound of his heartbeat soothes you as he begins to carry you towards his car. "You're the best 'toru. Always taking care of me."
A rare, fond smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you murmur those words, his heart skipping a beat inside his chest. Despite his usual nonchalant and cocky demeanor, Satoru has always had a soft spot for you. He may not admit it, of course, but secretly, he craves your praise.
"Of course I am." he muses, carrying you effortlessly towards his car. As he walks, his chin brushes gently against the top of your head. "Someone has to watch over you so you don't get into trouble. You're a magnet for mishaps." His tone playful, but laced with a hint of protectiveness. "Can't have someone else picking you up from the bar all drunk, now can I?"
Satoru opens the passenger door and carefully sets you inside, leaning over momentarily to click your seatbelt into place. He then walks around and enters the driver side. You lean your head back on the headrest, gently closing your eyes and exhaling with a slight annoyance as you take a moment to recall what happened moments before Satoru picked you up.
"Ugh. You won't believe it. Suguru was insisting I go home with him tonight.. and he was being real persistent," the alcohol is clearly loosening your tongue a bit more, and it doesn’t help that you never really gave yourself a moment to process what had happened.
Satoru freezes for a brief moment, his hand hovering over the ignition. His jaw clenches briefly at the mention of Geto again – did his closest friend actually make a move on you? It sets off a flicker of jealousy within him. Not that he'd explicitly show it, instead, a nonchalant expression maintains his features as he starts up the car. The engine hums to life, casting a low rumble in the otherwise silent vehicle.
"Is that so?" he replies, feigning nonchalance despite the subtle edge that underlines his tone. His gaze briefly flickers in your direction before focusing back on the road. "And why would he suddenly want to do that?"
You stare out at the road and lift an eyebrow, biting your lip as you hesitate – you’ve always had a slight suspicion that maybe Satoru also has feelings for you, he undeniably is affectionate.. but it’s hard for you to know for certain if that affection is romantic since he is always so hot and cold with you. One moment he’s worshiping you, the next he’s pushing you away. And deep down you know it’s probably for the best to remain the way you are – you’re content having him in your life, even if it’s just as your best friend, though a part of you still pines for him.
You wonder how he'll respond when you tell him about Suguru. Satoru’s always been protective over you. But you feel that as your best friend, he should know. That's why you called him. After everything that happened, he was the only person you thought of, the only person you wanted to see.
"Well, considering the way he tried to kiss me tonight, I'm assuming he didn't wanna talk."
Satoru's grip on the steering wheel tightens visibly at your revelation, his knuckles turning slightly paler as his hold on the leather material strains. A wave of bitterness washes over him, his eyes growing darker as he processes what you'd just said. He’s always buried this bitterness deep down when he’d watch you with other men, but Suguru? A twinge of betrayal stirs in him.
His gaze remains fixed on the road ahead, the car's headlights cutting through the night. He clears his throat slightly, his voice low and measured. "And how did you respond to that?"
Bringing your hand to your face, you shake your head in disbelief as if you’re trying to shoo the mere image out of your mind. You, Satoru and Suguru were an inseparable trio. The three of you have been the best of friends for… well what feels like practically forever. But lately, Suguru has been acting rather…odd. That’s why his advances tonight really caught you off guard. It just didn't feel...right.
"Well.. obviously, I pushed him away. I don’t know what came over him, but I was not having it. So, I immediately called you to come get me."
As you describe the encounter, a wave of relief washes over Satoru. It appeases him to know that your reaction wasn't one of reciprocation. His hold on the steering wheel eases a fraction, his shoulders losing some tension. He hums softly in acknowledgment, his gaze flickering in your direction for a brief moment.
"Good," he replies, a hint of protectiveness seeping into his tone. "You should always call me if someone tries to bother you, alright? I'll always come get you. I'd rather have you with me than with anyone else any day."
You giggle and turn your head to the side facing Satoru, the warmth of the alcohol giving a soft flush to your cheeks. You admire Satoru's profile while his eyes are peeled to the road. He is so beautiful in the moonlight, his snowy hair as smooth as silk, tousles hanging loose amongst his white lashes – the headlights illuminating his cerulean blue eyes, eyes you find yourself getting lost in.
Wait.. did he just imply that he wants me? You think.
Have you perhaps had too much to drink? Was that a slip up, or did you imagine it?
"You'd, rather have me with you?" You repeat his words back slowly, gazing at him.
Satoru's grip on the steering wheel loosens slightly, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern against its leather surface as he navigates the darkened roads. He glances in your direction, meeting your gaze for a moment before turning his attention back to the road – the way your eyes trace over his features, bathed by the passing street lights, nearly makes his breath catch in his throat.
The words he uttered moments before replay in his mind, and he realizes just how much they might have revealed. Usually, you’d simply dismiss his subtle advances, or he’d play them off with a witty comment, but tonight there was a look in your eyes, and the gentle seriousness in your voice... It caught him slightly off guard.
"Yeah. I would," he responds, his tone softer than usual.
A brief moment of silence fills the car, his words hanging in the air like a heavy promise. You shift your body to the side entirely, facing directly towards him as you lay back in your seat – your cheek pressed flush against the cool leather as you watch him intently. The intimacy in the car is palpable. You reach your hand out and rest it on Satoru's leg.
"'Toru..."
Satoru's breath hitches at the feeling of your hand on his leg. It's a simple gesture, a subtle touch, but it sends a jolt coursing through his body. The way you say his name in that moment, he’s heard you say it every day, but this was different. The warmth you suddenly inject into the small space, he can’t simply disregard it.
He steals a glance at you, his eyes darkening as he sees the intensity of your gaze. His muscles tense, both from the impact of your touch and the unexpected shift in the atmosphere.
"..yeah?" he replies, his voice a low, almost husky whisper.
You feel the liquor driving your body in a way you cannot stop. You begin to rub small intimate circles on his leg with your fingertips – brushing him ever so gently as you caress slowly up his thigh. There are words you’ve been eager to say but have locked up deep within you – suddenly the alcohol is causing your shackles to break, betraying your sense of restraint.
"I realized tonight.. I really wanted to see you. I only want you. That's why I called," your breath a whisper, your eyes bearing into him with deep longing.
Satoru can barely concentrate on the road anymore. Your gentle touch, the way your fingertips graze over him – it ignites a fire within him. His thighs flex under your caress, your gesture sending sparks of pleasure throughout him.
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Your words, the truth in your confession, hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd been wanting to hear those words for so long, and now that they were finally being voiced, it somehow seemed too good to be true.
He inhales sharply, the air caught in his lungs. "You’re drunk. Only me, huh?" he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse as his gaze momentarily flickers to meet yours. The raw honesty in your eyes stirs something primal within him.
The unpredictable movements of your fingertips begin to climb higher up his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. Your eyes do not waver, intently looking at him with a burning passion. A passion that you had buried deep inside yourself for many, many years.
It’s a passion you’ve been bottling up – you’ve been denying yourself your affection towards Satoru. Denying your love for him. And while there may have been subtle hints that he reciprocated your feelings, there was also an inexplicable fear of breaking the friendship you have built up over many years. That is why usually, you would just turn a blind eye, and so would he. You both accepted this is how it would always be.
But you crave him so much. You crave his touch.
"Only you, 'toru. I... need you."
A soft, almost strangled gasp escapes Satoru's lips as your fingers move higher, the sudden intensity of your touch driving him into madness. He tightens his grip on the wheel, his knuckles turning white from the sheer force. His eyes briefly flicker back to yours, your intense gaze not missed by him.
"Fuck,” he mutters, a hint of desperation in his voice. The need in your words, the way you express your want for him, it causes his stomach to flip in a way he’s never felt before. “What are you doing to me, love?”
Your lips curl into a smile as you hear his voice waver. It’s a side of him you have never had the privilege to see. An intense ache pulses in between your legs as you feel pure, wet, desire begin to cloud your judgement. Why was it you didn’t act more daring with Satoru before? You suddenly can’t remember, because right now all you know is that you just want to hear more of those sounds from him. Make him become undone from you.
Your fingertips brush gently, teasingly, against the slight bulge forming under the taut fabric of Satoru's pants.
"Do you want me to stop?" your voice a silky whisper.
Satoru's breath hitches, a shiver raking down his spine as your fingers brush against the growing arousal in his pants. You have never been this bold with him. It takes every ounce of his restraint not to shudder visibly. He clenches his jaw, his gaze fixated on the road ahead, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of composure.
"I... fuck," he manages to mutter, his gaze flicking between the road and you. "Don't you dare," he responds, his voice thick and raspy. "If you stop, I might just lose my damn mind."
You bite your lip and trace your fingers up to the tip of his now prominent bulge – feeling it twitch with a needy desire underneath your digits. A slight wet patch begins to form, seeping through his trousers. Satoru nearly jerks the wheel as shock waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. A sharp exhale escaping his lips, his body reacting viscerally to your touch. It takes every ounce of control for him not to lose it entirely. He can barely keep his eyes on the road, the urge to look at you, to devour you, is almost unbearable.
You click your tongue smugly, a self-satisfied smile forming across your lips. "Tsk tsk~ 'toru, eyes on the road."
Another strangled sound escapes from somewhere deep within him. The way you touch him, the way you tease him, ignites a fire that burns throughout his veins. His mind is swimming with pure need, his hands trembling against the wheel.
"You're... going to be the death of me," he manages to utter, his voice a strained growl. But he can't stop himself from glancing at you, his azure eyes almost black with desire. "You're such a damn tease. I want to pull over and... God." He trails off, his teeth clenched.
You press your palm down on his erection, feeling it grow underneath the pressure, and you enjoy quite literally having him in the palm of your hands. The street lights darting behind Satoru's longing stare, each flicker of light revealing beautiful glimpses of his desperation for you.
"Come on 'toru. Hurry up and take me home. We're almost there," you knowingly tease him with a subtle plea.
Satoru’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, his head falling back against the seat, as you press your palm against his aching length. Was he dreaming? He lets out a low groan, a mixture of need and frustration that he's unable to act on, yet. His eyes flash open and he briefly shakes his head as he quickly remembers he’s still infact driving.
He growls and presses down on the gas, the speed of the car gradually increasing as he fights to maintain his control. "You'd better be ready for what you're doing to me, love. You're playing with fire."
The road stretches ahead, the car's headlights illuminating the way, the distance seemingly insurmountable. You catch sight of familiar houses through the window behind Satoru, which immediately tells you that you are on the street of your apartment complex. Feeling that needy ache between your legs again, you crave more. Your hand trails up to the zipper of Satoru's pants, slowly pulling it down to expose his boxers, bulge pushing hard against the cloth as it is covered in a pool of precum – aching, and desperate for you.
"God, 'toru," you gasp at the sight. Even though it is hidden underneath the fabric, you can tell that it is undeniably, big.
The sound of the zipper being undone is like a siren's call in his ears, his breath catching in his chest. "Fuck," he mutters, his voice a gravelly rasp. "You're... unbelievable. You're... so damn impatient," he manages to bite out, his voice a wrecked, strangled whisper.
His thighs tremble with an uncontrollable shudder as you look at his arousal – he looks at your soft supple lips, and he wants so badly to shove his cock deep into your throat, the need to have you consuming him, gasping and moaning. It’s an imagine that he would often fantasize about.
"If you keep teasing me like this, I promise you—” as he trails off the car suddenly comes to a halt, the engine shutting off as Satoru pulls up to the curb outside your apartment building.
The moment the car stills, the only sound being the rhythmic pace of his ragged breaths, Satoru looks over at you, his eyes raking in the sight of your face — flushed and full of yearning. His gaze dark and intense, his pupils dilated with raw desire.
He watches as you unbuckle your seatbelt, the sound of the click echoes in the small space. And in that moment, it acts as if a switch flipped inside of him, unleashing something primal within. He quickly unbuckles his own seatbelt and turns towards you with haste.
His hand promptly reaches out, grasping your wrist, his grip firm and unrelenting. "Not so fast," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. He reaches for your thighs, his fingers almost trembling with the need to touch you. His body moves with a desperate fervor and a harsh grip as he tugs you across the center console and onto his lap, his strong arms encircling you tightly. The air is thick with tension, the desire between you two palpably tangible.
"Come here," he whispers. His hand grasping the back of your neck and guiding you towards him. You feel your clothed clit press against his length and moan, pushing forward as you crash your lips against his own.
The moment your lips meet his, he practically growls, his own groan mingling with yours as you rock against his aching arousal. His hands immediately finding purchase against your thighs, his grip on you is almost bruising, a physical manifestation of his need for you.
The taste of you, the feel of your body on his lap, pushes him to the edge of what little control he had as his hands begin to wander freely, roaming possessively over your body, as if he needs to touch you everywhere at once – touching and massaging, as if trying to commit every curve and contour to memory.
His tongue dips into your mouth, exploring and claiming your tongue hungrily.  His hands moving beneath your shirt, his palms searing against your skin. “You.. don't know... how long... I've wanted you," he manages to mutter between kisses – his breath coming in as hot gasps as his body trembles with the sheer intensity of his desire.
A guttural moan rumbles from deep within his chest, his hips jerking involuntarily as you grind against him. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down the length of your neck, his teeth nibbling and biting possessively along the way. A hand underneath your shirt cups your breast, gently flicking your nipple between his index finger and thumb, while his other hand roams below your skirt, greedily seeking to touch more of you as he circles around your wet sensitive bud through your already soaked underwear.
“Nngh… ‘toru,” you moan. The heat between you two is fierce, a burning tension that has been years in the making. He relishes the sound of his name escaping your lips in a desperate moan. He wants to hear it again, hear the sound of it on your lips, as he claims you entirely.
His hand on your clit moves hungrily, his touch exploring greedily as he aches to feel more of your arousal. “You're so wet for me," he breaths against your skin, his touch growing more insistent, more urgent. "I can feel how badly you want this. Need this."
He pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pretty folds dripping in pools of nectar, and he begins to tease your entrance. His mouth moves from your neck to your ear, his lips grazing over the sensitive flesh of your earlobe. "Say my name again," he whispers, his voice a low, demanding growl.
“Please… ‘toru,” you plead. Satoru's eyes fix on your face, he drinks in the sight of you – flushed and filled with need, lips plump and pink. A sight he’s only ever dreamed of, and now he cannot believe that he actually has you like this on top of him. It’s so captivating it makes his heart pound against his ribcage like a caged beast.
He moans softly against your ear, a low growl rumbling in his throat as you say his name — just how he wanted. His own breath comes in ragged gasps as he continues to tease your entrance. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice roughened with need. "Beg for me. Beg me to give you what you need."
An inch of his finger presses against your entrance, his touch gentle yet insistent, as his thumb slowly circles your sensitive bud, teasing and tormenting you, his touch hungry and demanding.
"You're so unfair," you moan, pleading and desperate for more. "Please 'toru, please. Need you now."
"Good girl," he grins as he parts your lower lips and thrusts his digit in deep, feeling the warmth around your plush warm walls. Your body arches back in pleasure as you let out a loud and longing moan. The sound of your moan fills the air, a symphony of desire that only feeds the fire within him. "You're so pretty like this," he murmurs, his voice a ragged whisper. "So desperate. So needy."
He begins scraping inside you softly and slowly, curling his fingers up as your walls clamp down on him, needy for more. You feel the heat rising in the car. The air is thick with your combined breaths, the windows fogged up like a veil of desire.
“Fuck ‘toru.. so good… need more,” pleading to him between your moans, your essence dripping onto him while the squelching sound of your juices fill the air.
"You want more, huh?" he breathes, his voice a low, growl. "You want everything I have to give, love?" He continues to tease you, his finger and thumb working in unison as he adds a second digit, his movements insistent. "Well, I intend to give you just that."
Moaning his name in pleasure from the intrusion, you slowly rock your hips upon his hand. The other hand continues to caress your breast as his claims your nipple with soft stimulating circles. You feel yourself eagerly approaching a sweet release. "Nnngh, don't stop 'toru... m' close"
"So close," he echoes, his voice a low, gravelly growl. "I can feel you clenching around my fingers, love. You want it so badly, don't you?" He continues, his pace quickening, determined to send you over the edge.
Your hands take purchase on Satoru's hair, intertwining his white locks between your fingertips, you lightly pull at the tousles with a desperate need to grab something, anything, as you ride out the wave of overwhelming ecstasy that he gives you. Satoru leans into the touch of your hands as you grasp for him, his eyes never leaving your face. The sight of you, flushed and wanting, only feeds his desire to give you what you need, his cock throbbing underneath you.
His fingers continue their onslaught, increasing pace and delving deeper into your core, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. You rest your forehead gently against his own while the speed of your grinding increases, eagerly matching the movement of his thrusts. "That's it sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a ragged whisper. "Just let go for me. I want to feel you come unraveled in my hands."
His motions become more insistent, his fingers finding the spots that make you shudder and gasp. "Nnngh.. Satoru.. m' cuming."
"Cum for me, love. I want to hear you scream my name," he breathes against your lips before he captures them in a heated kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with fervor. His fingers move more urgently, his pace relentless, determined to send you over the edge – and he does just that as you come completely undone on top of him. Moaning his name into his mouth, you feel the sweet release drip down his hand, drenching him completely.
Fuck, he wanted to cum right then and there. Holding you close, his arm encircles your waist as he swallows your moans, his tongue claiming your mouth as he kisses you deeply and greedily. His fingers slow their pace, gently guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Pulling away from the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours while groaning in satisfaction. “That's my girl," he breathes, his voice a husky whisper. "You're so beautiful."
He slowly withdraws from within you, his hand glistening with your sweetness, and he brings his fingers to his mouth, slowly licking them clean while a low groan of pleasure escapes his lips. “Need to taste more of you.”
Every nerve in your body begins to sing with hungry desire, your head slightly spinning from the liquor while your skin tingles with the aftershocks of your pleasure. The sight of him, lazily licking his fingers clean, sends a new wave of heat through you, and Satoru’s words, so primal and possessive, only serve to stoke the flames of need within you. He shifts beneath you, his hands moving to your thighs now, gripping you tightly and pulling you down closer to his evident arousal, only separated against the thin fabric of his boxers.
"You'd better get me upstairs,” you urge, breathless from the heat of the moment and hungry for more – more of him. All of him. “I don’t think I can bear much more of this. Need you inside me," your breath tickles him as your teeth lightly nip at the sensitive skin across the length of his neck, moaning softly while you leave a trail of burning kisses across his flesh.
His body shudders under your touch as you graze him, and you feel his cock twitch against you. The feeling of your mouth on his skin is like a drug, driving his desire to a fever pitch. He leans back against the headrest, his head tilting back in pleasure, exposing more of his neck to your hungry lips.
"You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. "The things I want to do to you... you don't need to tell me twice."
But while he fumbles for the door handle, you grin against the crook of his neck as you begin to press yourself further on top of him, slowly grinding against his aching length. Ragged gasps escape his lips and you are pleased with how you have him writhing beneath you.
“Nngh.. fuck it,” he hisses. “I need you. Right. Now. Hold on tight."
And in a moment, you feel yourself pulled by a magnetizing force. You blink, and suddenly there you are, laying against Satoru exactly as you were, but now directly on top of your bed inside your apartment. He teleported you there, unable to wait a second longer.
You’ve experienced Satoru’s teleporting technique in the past, but there is one thing you both failed to take into consideration, you were drunk. The sudden force of being projected through space and time makes your stomach twist in discomfort, you bring your hand to your mouth in an attempt to fight off the nausea, and Satoru's eyes widen as he realizes the sudden shift in your demeanor, the color draining from your face as you quickly scramble off of him.
A pang of guilt stabs at his heart as he realizes what he's done – he had temporarily forgotten your slightly impaired state. Concern etched across his features, he watches you stumbling towards the bathroom, your balance betraying you. Satoru springs to action, catching you, his hands reaching out to steady you.
"Fuck," he curses under his breath, his hands gently encircling your waist as he leans you against him, guiding you carefully. "Shit, love, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. You alright?"
The room begins to spin as Satoru guides you towards the toilet. You slump down in front of it and begin retching, the nausea beating you in an already lost battle. Tears well up in your eyes from the burning pain that stings your throat.
Satoru's expression twists in concern as he kneels beside you on the floor, his hand gently rubbing soothing circles on your back. The sight of your tears makes his heart sink, and a mix of guilt and worry clouds his features.
"Shhh... it's okay, love," he reassures, his voice laced with remorse. "Shit, I'm sorry. I should've known better.. guess I didn’t think that one through. I really shouldn't have teleported you like that in your state."
You sit in front of the toilet for what feels like an eternity, and Satoru stays beside you the entire time, offering what little comfort he can while you let it all out. You feel your body overcome with exhaustion, aching from the tension of each agonizingly painful convulsion. As you let out the last of what your stomach has to offer, your breath becomes ragged, panting with fatigue. You curl up into a ball, resting your head on Satoru’s lap whilst closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the overwhelming feeling that the room is spinning.
He gently brushes away the hair that sticks to your sweaty forehead, his touch tender and caring. "I'm sorry," he whispers softly. "I should have been more thoughtful. I shouldn't have let my impatience ruin things. I was just so caught up in the moment. You're in this state because of me."
You let out a long deep exhale while your eyes remained closed, the sound of his voice giving you slight comfort. “Satoru. I’m in this state because I thought having three shots of hard liquor and five mixed drinks was a good idea. This isn’t your fault.” Reaching for his hand, you intertwine your fingers with his own. “You weren’t the only one caught up in the moment..”
He squeezes your hand in return, his grip firm yet gentle. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, tracing small patterns on your skin.
"You know, for a woman who just emptied her stomach, you sure still know how to put things into perspective," he muses.
You scoff, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “What can I say, I’m a guru.”
"Yeah, sure. You’re a guru. Guru of making poor choices, maybe," he quips back at you with a grin. “You really thought five drinks was a good idea? You've always been a lightweight, but this time you really outdid yourself, princess," he teases.
“Shut up.” You laugh, your eyes still closed as you nuzzle your face more into the warmth of his lap.
He lifts his other hand to your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that lingered on your cheek. "I still feel guilty, though," he admits, his voice carrying a gentle tone. "I should have been more cautious, especially since I know how your tolerance is when you're drunk."
"Well hey, at least we’ve learned our lesson, right? No more teleporting drunk girls."
He chuckles and lets out a small sigh, his eyes tracing the contour of your face. "You've always been a handful when you're drunk, always tending to do things recklessly when alcohols involved. Like drinking more than you should, or getting your hand stuck in the Pringles can. Or…" he trails off, briefly recalling your shared passion in the car.
Your tired eyes flutter open, revealing a lazy smile as you respond with a playful glint. "Oh come on, getting my hand stuck in a Pringles can was a one-time thing. And it was your fault."
He looks down at you with a mixture of concern and affection. Was this all just another one of your drunk antics? He desperately wanted to know your feelings, but now wasn’t the time. You needed rest, and it’s probably best if you’re both level headed for that conversation.
"You’re gonna drink some water and brush your teeth, alright? Then, we'll get you into bed," his voice is gentle yet firm.
You nod weakly in agreement, appreciating his care and concern in that moment. The events of the night and the nausea had drained any energy you had left. Summoning the little strength that you had to pull yourself up from the floor, Satoru's supportive presence is there to stabilize you. You allow him to help you to your feet, steadying yourself against him as the room continues to spin.
"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you mumble softly. "I'm so tired.”
Satoru's touch is gentle and attentive as he guides you through a routine of cleaning up - supporting you to the sink to brush your teeth, helping you brush your hair and gently drying your face with a clean towel.
“Thank you, ‘toru." You mumble softly, and he smiles warmly in response. His arms lift you from the bathroom, carrying you like a delicate treasure through the hallway to your bedroom. He slowly lowers you onto the soft bed sheets with a feather-light touch and brings you a glass of water.
Satoru tenderly strips you of your evening clothes, replacing them with the comfort of your satin pajamas. The fabric is soft and soothing against your weary body and his fingers delicately guide each limb as he moves. He pulls the blankets over you, tucking you in like a cocoon. You shiver slightly as the cool sheets touch your skin, but as you sink into the softness of your bed, the exhaustion seeps into your bones, and you can feel your eyelids growing heavy.
Kneeling beside the bed, Satoru gently brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead, searching your face with a mixture of concern and affection. "Do you need anything else?" he asks, his voice a low and soothing murmur.
With a soft smile of contentment on your face, you reach a drowsy hand over to him and grab onto the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him. "Stay with me," you murmur, the words barely more than a tired whisper.
He chuckles softly, endeared by your drowsy voice and the way you hold onto him. Without another word, he carefully maneuvers himself onto the bed, climbing in beside you. Once he's settled in, he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around your body.
He reaches forward to switch off your bedside lamp, plunging the room into a soothing darkness. He buries his face into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent as he settles into the comfort of holding you. "I'm here," he whispers softly, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear. "Not going anywhere, love."
You feel warm – this is everything you’ve always wanted. But as you battle falling out of consciousness, you cannot stop your mind from racing. The memories of Satoru being hot and cold with his affection of you in the past – you desperately hope your feelings reached him properly. After all this, he wouldn’t push you away again… right?
“Don’t leave…” your words a soft murmur in the quiet room, revealing the vulnerability and fear lurking in the depths of your heart.
Satoru's expression turns somber as he considers your plea, his arms instinctively tightening their embrace around you. "I'm not going anywhere." he repeats, his voice soft in your ear. He feels the weight of your body relax against him as you slowly drift off to sleep.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
As you slowly slip into unconsciousness, Satoru remains wide awake, his thoughts swirling like a tempest in his mind. The memory of your shared passion weighs heavy on him, it was a moment where you were drunk while he was sound in mind – he can't shake the feeling that he was too selfish, too impulsive. He feels torn between the desire to submit to his love for you and the knowledge that it may put you in danger. Guilt gnaws at his heart.
∘₊✧
A slight beam of sun filters in through the curtains of your apartment, casting rays upon your face. Your eyes flutter open and you immediately feel an intense pang upon your temple, suddenly remembering just how much you drank last night.
You exhale in discomfort, rolling to the side to see yourself greeted with an empty bed… the sheets beside you are cool to the touch, evidence of Satoru's absence. Suddenly, memories of last night begin to flood your mind. You groan, covering your face with your arm. You acted recklessly… but you don’t regret it. You’ve desperately wanted Satoru for so long, and now you really didn’t want to lose him. Does he think last night was a mistake?
Your phone suddenly pings with a text notification. You fumble to reach for it on your nightstand, wincing as the brightness of the screen assaults your sensitive eyes. As you read the words in the message your heart jumps – can we talk about last night?
Fluttering your eyes briefly, you rub them sleepily in an attempt to steady your vision. You prop yourself up on your bed and take another good look at the message.
Suguru Geto: Can we talk about last night?
The phone feels heavy in your hand as you consider how to respond. You groan and plop back down into the mattress face first, the memories of Suguru's attempted kiss at the bar last night adding another layer of complication to your already throbbing headache.
You know you’ll need to address Suguru, but first you needed to get some food and medicine in you. After taking some Tylenol and chugging three glasses of water to help with the aftermath of your drunken night, you make a cup of coffee and fix yourself a slice of toast and a banana, hoping it'll quell the empty feeling in your stomach. You take a seat at the table, slowly nibbling on the food and sipping the coffee, feeling the caffeine start to help clear your still groggy state.
Once you've had your small makeshift breakfast, you pick up your phone again, steeling yourself to reply to Suguru's message. You muster the courage and quickly type –
Me: Yeah, we can talk.
You continue to take another sip of your coffee, and are surprised to see the phone chime almost immediately after you sent your message.
Suguru Geto: Okay. Meet you later tonight? After work?
Me: Sure.
∘₊✧
As you enter through the doors of Jujutsu High, Shoko's voice cuts through the air, making you wince as your lingering headache throbs.
“You look like shit,” she bluntly remarks as she observes you shuffle heavily on the floor, black sunglasses shield your gaze from the intense light that searches for you through the windows of the hallway.
“Gee, thanks Sho,” you mumble sarcastically.
She raises an eyebrow before continuing, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion. “By the time I got to the bar, you were already gone. You left earlier than I expected, we didn’t even get to do karaoke. What happened last night?”
“Honestly?” you say, trying to find the words. “I’m not even too sure myself what happened last night. What did Suguru tell you?”
Shoko studies your face closely, her eyes narrowing as she tries to make out your expression behind your dark sunglasses. She takes a moment to assess your state, her expression a mixture of concern and subtle curiosity.
"He didn't say much," she says slowly. "Just that you had a good time at the bar and then you randomly left early. But I could tell something was bothering him. He seemed pretty… distracted." She pauses for a moment, tilting her head slightly. "He also mentioned that you left with Gojo," she adds.
“Yeah… I was feeling sick so he took me home,” you reply slowly, trying not to give too much away. You really wanted to talk to Satoru himself before mentioning anything about last night to anyone else.
Shoko furrows her brow at your response, sensing that there's more to the story than what you're letting on. But she doesn't press further, sensing your reluctance to say more.
“Hey, speaking of… where is Satoru?” you ask while briefly glancing through the halls. “Usually he’s the first one here, ready to pester me.”
"Gojo's been pretty mysterious today. He got here earlier this morning, but he was in a weird mood. He didn't say a word to anyone and just headed straight to his office. He seemed preoccupied with something."
“I see...” you say, slight concern filtered in your voice. You really wanted to talk to Satoru, but does he want space? He left while you were sleeping last night, hasn’t texted you, and didn’t greet you like he usually does. Your heart feels a bit heavy with concern – you really hope that your actions didn’t ruin things between you two. How would you even face him? You shake your head, trying to push away the lingering thoughts. Time to focus on the task at hand – you had to get through work, then later you’d address Suguru.
Shoko eyes you closely, sensing the hint of worry in your voice. She hesitates for a moment before speaking, her voice a gentle yet firm reassurance. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure he's just busy. You know how he is, being the strongest and all."
You nod, trying to brush off the nagging feeling that something was off with Satoru. Maybe he really was just busy. "Yeah, you're right," you say, forcing a smile. “Anyways I gotta head to my mission. See you around Sho.”
"See you later. Be careful on your mission, okay?" With a final wave, she turns to head towards her own work. You take a deep breath and trek forward as you mentally prepare yourself for your assignment. You can’t afford to be distracted right now.
∘₊✧
While you’re nowhere near as strong as Satoru or Suguru, you are by no means a weak sorcerer. You hold the rank of Grade A, slowly making a name for yourself in the Jujutsu world. Typically, you can handle missions on your own, it’s really not often that you’re paired up with anyone for your assignments, but today you’ve been paired up with your fellow sorcerer, Nanami Kento, and thank god you are because the bothersome hangover almost makes you lose sight of a dreadful curse lurking in the shadows. It lunges directly at you – Nanami saves you with a black flash and eliminates the curse effortlessly.
Nanami shoots you a disapproving glance. "You need to pay attention," he says gruffly, his eyes narrowing at your distracted state. "You could've avoided that attack if you weren't so lost in thought."
You nod with a subtle grimace, and of course Nanami, as observant as ever, notices your struggle. "Are you alright, y/n?" he asks, his eyes still firm but there is concern in his voice.
“Yeah… thanks Nanami. Guess I’m just a little out of it today. Can you finish up here? I’ll go head back to campus and report to Yaga.”
Nanami studies you for a moment, his gaze assessing your tired appearance before nodding in understanding. "Alright. Be careful on your way back."
You head back towards Jujutsu High, the walk is peaceful, the sun slowly meeting the horizon. You look down at your phone, it reads 4:47pm. Your empty mailbox gnaws at you, it’s clear evidence that Satoru still hasn’t reached out to you. Agitated, you hastily tap your fingers on the keyboard, and hit send –
Me: Hey. Thanks for taking care of me last night.
After the message is sent, you stare at your phone, your fingers tapping the screen anxiously, waiting for a reply – a blue bubble, anything. But the minutes tick by and there’s nothing. The empty screen mocks you, the silence deafening, your heart sinks further.
Were you overthinking things? A pang of disappointment chews at you as the screen remains stubbornly empty. You brush your phone into your pocket and continue to walk towards the school. After a few silent minutes, although it felt like an eternity, you feel the buzz in your pocket. Quickly, you pick it up and look down to see a simple reply.
Satoru Gojo: Anytime.
A scoff escapes your lips, frustration and worry tug at the corners of your mind. The one worded message just as unbearable as his radio silence. Shaking your head, you stuff your phone back into your pocket as you walk through the entrance of Jujutsu High once again. Is this day over yet? Oh yeah, you almost forgot, you still have to talk to Suguru. Your misfortune never ends.
∘₊✧
“I see, so you and Nanami successfully defeated the curse in Ginza.” Principal Yaga speaks to you while he shuffles through the papers on his desk, his eyes not looking up at you while you give him your mission report.
“Great work y/n. You can head home for today,” But as you’re about to step out the door, Yaga promptly stops you with a sudden request.
"Actually, y/n. One more thing.”
“Yes sir?”
“Before you leave, could you bring some of these documents to Gojo for me? He was supposed to handle them yesterday, but you know how he is…" he gestures to the mound of documents on his desk with a disheveled sigh. "This is urgent – the higher-ups are getting impatient."
Satoru. The thought of seeing him right now makes you anxious, however, you know that you can't refuse Yaga's request. What excuse could you possibly give Yaga anyways? You nod, feigning nonchalance while taking the pile of papers from him. "Alright," you reply, the weight of the thin parchment feeling heavy in your hands. "I'll make sure he takes care of them."
As you gather the courage to approach Satoru's office, you can hear your heart pounding in your own ears. You halt directly in front of the door and with a deep breath, you knock firmly on it. His muffled voice instructs you to enter.
The office is dimly lit, the setting sun casting shadows across the room. He sits behind his desk and his eyes flicker up to you, but his expression remains enigmatic. Those piercing azure pools seem to stare straight through you, and you can immediately see they are somewhat detached. He leans back in his chair, his gaze fixated on you as he assesses your presence. The air between you both is thick with tension.
"Hey," he says simply, breaking the silence that hangs heavy in the room, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a more reserved one, causing a pang of trepidation to shoot through you.
“Hey,” you utter. “Yaga sent me to give you these documents,” you set them down on the desk in front of him amongst more stacks of papers. “He says it’s really important you address it.”
Satoru glances idly down to the papers before looking back up at you, his expression still unreadable. His usual smirk is nowhere to be seen; it is instead replaced by a hard, serious look that leaves you feeling unsettled.
“Thanks,” he replies curtly. He picks up the stack of papers and flips through them, his eyes skim over the words without a hint of emotion.
“So… um,” you begin, unsure what it is you want to say but desperate to see him feel something, anything, that will give you some sense of relief from the growing knot in your stomach. “Have a busy day?”
Satoru looks up from the stack of papers, his gaze locking onto yours, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He lets out a dry chuckle, a shadow of his usual playful self. "Busy?" he repeats, with a hint of annoyance. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Meeting after meeting, curses left and right, and the higher-ups breathing down my neck as usual." He sighs deeply, running a hand through his messy white hair.
You know that everything about him is telling you to leave him alone, but your heart aches seeing this side of him. You feel a slight sense of guilt knowing that you probably caused more trouble for him last night, considering how late he was up taking care of you. Satoru always has so much on his plate, being the strongest sorcerer and all. He’s always sacrificing his own wants and needs for everyone else.
You yearn to break his icy front. He’s always putting on a façade, never really great about talking about his emotions, opting to brush them aside with feigned aloofness. Biting your cheek, you finally let the words come out.
“Yeah… well thank you again for taking care of me last night. Sorry I caused you trouble.”
His eyes narrow slightly at your mention of last night, his expression faltering momentarily before he quickly regains his composure. That brief lapse was enough to tell you that he didn’t want you to bring it up. He sets down the stack of papers and leans back in his chair, his arms crossing his chest.
“It’s fine,” he says, waving off your thanks. “You’re just a goddamn pain in the ass when you’re drunk.” There’s a subtle smirk on his face, but it’s lacking his usual teasing tone. “Wasn’t the first time,” he mutters as his gaze returns to the stack of papers in front of him. “Though you definitely were more clingy than usual.”
“Satoru.. about that…”
“—let’s just forget about it, okay?” he interjects, his body tense, his tone icy and his eyes peeled on the papers in front of him. “It meant nothing. You were drunk and horny, I just happened to be within reach.”
Your heart drops as a wave of emotions crash through you. You felt many things in that moment. Hurt. Sad. Angry. Very angry. You were trying so hard to be mature about this but his dismissive attitude was shattering what little composure you had. He wasn’t even giving you a moment to speak. Quite frankly, you had enough.
“Are you serious right now?” your voice laced with an evident sting.  
Satoru’s eyebrow raises at your sharp tone. Despite his cold demeanor, the slightest hint of surprise flickered across his features as you retorted. His gaze lifts from the papers in front of him to meet your hurt and fuming expression.
"I’m serious," he snaps back coldly. "It was a drunken mistake. Nothing more. It didn’t mean anything." He pauses, watching you intently, waiting for your response, but you are momentarily speechless as you clench your fist in frustration.
“What?” he continues, his tone sharp. “You don’t like it when I speak the truth? Because that’s what it was. It was just a drunk accident.”
“Oh, so you’re speaking for me now?” you quip. “Who are you to say what it meant to me. I was the only one drunk last night, not you.” You feel your eyes getting wet as you fight back the tears that you desperately try to stop from falling, a lump in your throat from the pain of holding them back. “So, tell me Satoru, is that what it was for you?”
“What do you want me to say? That it meant something? That I’ve secretly been pining for you all this time?” He chuckles bitterly, his gaze hard as he looks up at you. "Sorry, sweetheart. It wasn’t anything more than what it was. If you want a friend to sleep with, why don’t you crawl over to Suguru. I’m sure he’d be happy to please you."
The second the words leave his lips he instantly regrets them. His eyes widen slightly as he realizes the weight of his hurtful words, the stoic front he was maintaining crumbles as he watches a teardrop trickle down your smooth cheek, its salty wetness carving a path of sorrow. He knew that he took it too far. He was trying to push you away, to protect you from himself, protect you from his true feelings.
He closes his eyes for a brief moment, his jaw clenching as he tries to keep his own emotions in check. He hates himself for making you feel this way… but his own fears, his own insecurities, have gotten the better of him. When he opens his eyes again, he looks at you apologetically.
"I... I didn’t..." he attempts to backtrack. But before he can find the right words to say, the sound of your choked, heartbroken gasp makes him freeze.
“You have some real nerve, Gojo.” He can see the hurt, anger, and frustration in your expression, the tears were really coming out now. You felt shattered, feeling as if last night meant nothing to him – as if you meant nothing to him.
You turn your back to him as you shift towards the door, and angling your head to the side, you speak your final peace before ultimately taking your leave. “You know what? At least Suguru is vulnerable with me about his feelings. I’m done. If you won’t even listen to what I have to say, what’s the point. Guess I’ll save my breath.”
The sound of your trembling voice pierces through his chest like a knife, pained and frustrated. He clenches his jaw, fighting back his own emotions and the growing guilt that threatens to overwhelm him.
As he watches you leave, the door swings shut behind you. He’s left alone with the silence of his office suffocating him. Every fiber of him screams to go to you, to apologize, to explain himself, but he simply can’t move and the words he wants to say feel stuck in his throat.
“Damn it,” he mutters under his breath. He rests his arms on his desk and buries his face into his hands, his mind replaying the scene over and over again. He knows he’s royally fucked up – the damage is done.
∘₊✧
The sound of your footsteps echo in the campus hallways as you wipe the streaming tears off your face. Oh god, please don’t let anyone see you like this right now. You really can’t bear it. Right now, all you want is to just crawl into bed and cry. Your best friend’s words are ringing in your mind, each retelling making the tears fall harder. You felt so stupid. So embarrassed.
You push through what feels like a never-ending hallway until finally, stepping outside, you are met with Suguru leaned up against the rail of the stairway, waiting for you. He looks relaxed as always, eyes peering out through the Jujutsu campus, a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke gently curling in the air around him.
When he looks up, the sight of your tear-stained face makes him straighten up immediately. Your expression is one of raw emotional pain. Without a second thought, he quickly stubs out his cigarette and pushes himself off the railing, walking directly towards you, his voice laced with worry.
“Hey,” he says gently. “Are you alright? What happened?”
You don’t know what else to do, desperate for comfort, you run into Suguru’s arms, tears streaming down your face as you sob into his shirt. As you collapse into his arms, the force of your body against him is almost enough to knock him off balance, but he steadies himself, wrapping his arms around you as he holds you tightly against his chest. He's silent for a moment, just letting you cry, his hand gently rubbing soothing circles on your back.
After some time, he speaks, his voice gentle and filled with concern. "Y/n... what happened?"
You exhale sharply, your breath quivering as it escapes your mouth. Sniffling, you dry your eyes and shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Please.. can we just go?”
Suguru looks down at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your broken expression. He nods silently, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your back. "Yeah," he replies softly. "Let's get out of here."
He gently releases you from his embrace, keeping one arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guides you away from Jujutsu High.
∘₊✧
The car ride with Suguru is quiet. For your planned talk tonight, he had arranged for reservations at a charming little restaurant in a peaceful village. He briefly mentioned how he recently discovered it on an assignment he was sent on. Truth be told, you feel a bit guilty, him doing all this. After all, he went through all this trouble, and it appears that he’s willing to put his best effort forward to have a real, mature conversation with you about how he tried to kiss you last night. Suguru means so much to you, but as much as you hate to admit it, you simply can’t reciprocate his feelings, and you know that tonight will likely lead to some sort of heartache. You’ve been dreading this conversation; likely due to fear you’ve been bottling up – part of you hopes that your friendship doesn’t falter because of this. You’ve already lost one best friend today… frankly you don’t think you can handle losing another.
Suguru steals glances at you every so often as he drives through the village. He can sense your quiet demeanor and the lingering traces of sadness in your face. It’s clear that you’re still upset about something, but he doesn’t dare to pry, allowing you to have some space to collect your thoughts.
When he pulls up in front of the restaurant, he turns off the ignition and looks at you. "We’re here," he says softly, his voice gentle and tinged with concern.
As you enter the restaurant, the quaint atmosphere immediately begins to soothe your weary soul. The gentle music playing, the soft hue, and the smell of delicious food wafting through the air work together to create a warm and comforting environment.
Suguru leads you to a cozy booth in a somewhat secluded corner of the restaurant and slides in opposite of you.
His eyes study you silently. He watches as your gaze roams around the room, taking in the ambiance of the restaurant, before finally you focus on him. “The food here is pretty good,” he comments, attempting to break the ice between you. “I hope you like it.”
“Mmm,” you hum, nodding. “It smells amazing. I’m really hungry. I barely ate this morning. My stomach was turning all day from last night.”
Suguru winces slightly as memories of last night resurface in his mind. "Yeah… about last night," his voice tentative. "We should probably talk about that."
“Right,” you lock eyes with him as let out a sigh. Might as well get straight to it. “Would you like to go first?”
"Alright…look," he begins, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "I know things got a little out of hand last night. Firstly, I want to apologize for that. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries with you…" he pauses momentarily, looking down at the table, taking a moment to steady himself before he looks back up at you.
"And secondly. I... I need to be honest with you. I love you. Like, romantically. I think you're beautiful, smart, kind. And honestly...I'm tired of hiding it. I’ve felt this way for a long time. And last night, it just felt like the right moment to tell you...to show you."
“I see…” you say, the weight of his confession is heavy. You can’t help but feel terrible. Here he was, taking accountability for his actions and being completely open with you... but you can’t lie to him about your feelings. And you didn’t want to string him along, it wouldn’t be right.
“Suguru, you’ve been one of my closest friends for a long time. I do love you, just not in the same way I think you feel about me… I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”
Suguru’s expression softens as he listens to your words, a mixture of acceptance and disappointment washing over him.
"Yeah... I kind of thought that might be your answer, " he admits, his voice soft. "I just..." he pauses, running a hand through his hair, "I guess I needed to tell you, to try and see if maybe..."
He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. The silent 'maybe you would feel the same' hangs between you two.
You reach for his hand across the table and look into his eyes. “I appreciate you telling me… and apology accepted. Sometimes people can get carried away when they’re drunk… call it, the heat of the moment,” you give him a soft smile. The words you speak pull at your heart a bit, as they are not only directed to him… but to yourself and your own actions.
"Yeah..." he responds quietly. "Heat of the moment." He laces his fingers through yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.
The waiter interrupts as he approaches you both, asking if you are ready to order. Both Suguru and you attempt to shake off the lingering awkward atmosphere.
After the waiter leaves, Suguru looks back up at you suddenly with concern, his gaze searching your features. "But...does this change things? Does it change our friendship?"
“That’s the question I should be asking you. I’m okay with putting this behind us but you need to consider if you’re comfortable being around me Suguru… I’d really hate to cause you more heartache.”
He regards you for a moment, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Hey," he says gently, "You know me. I'm not one to let heartbreak keep me down."
There's a pause as he gathers his thoughts, his expression growing more serious. "As for being around you...I’d rather that not change. You're one of my best friends. I think we've been through too much together to let something like this come between us."
“You’re right,” you smile. “Our friendship can get us through this. Nothing will get between it.”
The waiter brings your food and you both dive into your plates eagerly. The atmosphere between you two slowly starts to feel more comfortable as you enjoy your meals, the food helping to lift your spirits. Suguru can see the color slowly returning to your face as you eat, the tension in your shoulders slowly relaxing. He glances at you every so often, studying your expression, and he can't help but notice the slight dark circles under your eyes, a clear sign of the stress and lack of sleep you've been experiencing lately.
“You’ve been looking pretty tired as of late,” he notes. “How was work today?”
You exhale, where to begin? While you’d like to confide in Suguru about Satoru, you want to be considerate of his feelings. You know you’ll have to tell him eventually, but that conversation would likely sting too much right now, so maybe it’s best to leave Satoru out for the time being.
“This pain in the ass hangover didn’t do me any favors,” you chuckle. “I’m a real idiot for taking you up on that drinking challenge.”
Suguru’s lips curl into a grin and he snickers, “Hey, I tried to warn you. When will you learn your lesson?”
“I know, I know. I’m just lucky that Nanami was assigned as my mission partner today, or I likely wouldn’t be sitting here with you. You should’ve seen the nasty curse that almost got me.”
The sound of his cutlery suddenly becomes quiet, you feel the atmosphere change instantly. You look up to see his face, hauntingly zoned out, a burning rage simmering under him. His usual calm expression hardens, his knuckles turning white as he grips his fork tightly.
"What... what do you mean a curse almost got you?" he finally asks, his voice strained as his words carry an eerie bite.
“It’s nothing really,” you say nonchalantly, a failed attempt to play it off.
"Right," he says sarcastically, a bitter edge to his voice. "It's nothing to worry about. Just another near-death experience. Just another day of risking our lives for people who don't even appreciate it. Just another day of putting ourselves on the line for those who would never do the same for us."
You halt the movement of your fork, frozen momentarily as you’re caught off guard from his sudden shift in attitude. “Suguru, it’s okay. Nanami saved me—”
“And what if Nanami wasn’t there,” he cuts you off, slamming his hands on the table, his volume rising. “It’s not fair that we have to risk ourselves for these damn non-sorcerers … these monkeys.”
There is a loud silence between you as his furrowed stare pierces into you. You’re left speechless, unsure what to say to him. He grips your hand and the violet hue in his iris’ appear to be void of everything. You don’t even recognize him.  
"They don't understand the sacrifices we make y/n," his words cold. "Yet we're the ones who bear the burden. We're the ones who have to risk our lives everyday just to keep them safe, and for what?”
You begin to feel a bit nervous as people’s wandering eyes peer to the scene unfolding amongst you both – murmurs echo throughout the restaurant. Suddenly, your waiter walks over, gripping his notepad under a tense grip in support. “Is everything oka—”
Before the waiter finishes his sentence, you watch blood splatter across Suguru’s cheek. You blink – did your eyes deceive you? Suguru just killed an innocent civilian. The waiter, who moments ago was speaking to you both, now lays motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his lifeless body. There is no denying it… right?
The once peaceful restaurant erupts into chaos, horrified gasps and screams filling the air as all eyes turn to look at Suguru, who remains perfectly calm. Civilians around you are running in panic as they try to get away from the scene of the crime.
Suguru simply sits there, his expression blank. There is no remorse in his eyes – only a cold emptiness. He raises a hand, wiping the blood from his cheek with his thumb, before finally speaking. "That was annoying... I despise monkeys."
Suguru's swift and violent act shocks you to the core, causing your heart to race with fear and disbelief. “Suguru…” you manage to finally mutter, your voice catching in your throat from fright.
He looks at you, his expression still hauntingly neutral, as if all he simply did was swat a fly away. "Yeah? What is it?"
“What… what did you just do?” you ask slowly, your voice quivering in fear.
Suguru regards you for a moment, his gaze calculating as he takes in your trembling voice and fearful expression. "I merely got rid of an annoyance," he replies coolly, his voice emotionless. "A mosquito that wouldn't leave me alone. Nothing more."
Reaching for his napkin, he dabs it against his cheek with a look of disgust as he cleans off the lingering remnants of blood left from the waiter. Was this the same person you were casually talking to moments ago? The same person who held you in his arms while you cried? No. Who is this person? Every fiber of your being is telling you to run, but you cannot move, frozen in fear.
“You know y/n. My last mission got me thinking.” He casually leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as he looks at you. “Wouldn’t it be better to live in a world of just sorcerers? If these monkeys didn’t exist, curses wouldn’t be born. We could finally be free.”
You watch him intently as he begins to lift himself from his seat. A fierce cursed spirit begins to manifest behind him whilst emitting blue flames. The blaze dances around him, a sinister aura. “I bet we could make this dream a reality. You... me and Satoru.”
The air around you feels tense and thick with the shock of Suguru's statement. His words hang there ominously, the coldness in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
"That's a dangerous thing to say, Suguru," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "A very dangerous thing..."
"Imagine it," he continues, approaching closer to you. "A world where we are the only ones to walk amongst the living. No more weak, worthless monkeys to hold us back. Just the strong. Just us."
"And Satoru?... You think he would agree with you?" you rasp as Suguru stops in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face as he answers your question.
"Satoru..." he muses, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "He'll understand. It may take a bit of convincing, but he'll listen. He always does. He’s the most important piece – we need the strongest."
He reaches out, his hand gently caressing your cheek, his touch almost tender compared to his cold words. “He’ll come. Especially if you join. After all, he’s always been unable to say no to you.”
Your eyes expand as the realization hits you. Was Suguru using you as a tool? Your stomach spins. You’re not sure what to believe anymore – was his confession even real? What happened to this man standing in front of you, the man you once considered to be one of your dearest friends.
“Suguru…” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “You can’t do this.”
“Now y/n, don’t say that,” he muses, his voice eerily tantalizing. “After all, you’re my best friend. What was it you said earlier? Our friendship can get through this. Nothing will get between it.”
There's a hint of mockery in Suguru's tone as he repeats your words back to you. It's almost as if he's taunting you. He leans in closer, his hand moving from your cheek to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him more fully. His expression is cold and calculating, like a predator sizing up his prey.
"See? You said it yourself. Our friendship is unbreakable. That means you'll stand by me, no matter what. That means you'll listen, when I tell you something, right?"
You swallow hard and speak slowly, aware that the next words you utter will ultimately decide your fate. “I can’t, Suguru.”
“Can't?" Suguru repeats, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. He leans in closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. "You can't? Or you won't?"
Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his breath dance on your face. You open them and stare deeply into the eyes you once thought were warm and filled with love. “I won’t kill innocent people Suguru.”
Suguru's face suddenly twists into a scowl, his voice is dangerously soft. “After everything we’ve been through, after I’ve trusted you with my deepest secrets, my most intimate thoughts...and you still say no?” His hand drops from your face as he takes a step back. The coldness in his gaze becomes more intense as his eyes narrow. “It’s a shame really. I always cared for you. How…disappointing.”
Chaos erupts as the cursed spirit behind Suguru lets out a screeching roar. The blue flame expands, engulfing the village, casting a hell-bent inferno over everything. The air is thick with smoke and the acrid stench of burning wood. Screams and cries echo in the air as people run in panic – they search for any salvation as they desperately attempt to flee the hungry flames devouring them.
You are locked in a vicious battle with Suguru, your bodies moving like blurs amidst the carnage and destruction around you. The once peaceful village becomes decimated before you. Buildings are reduced to nothing more than smoldering ruins, the putrid stench of death.
Suguru shows no mercy, his strength and power overwhelming. But despite his ruthless force, he intentionally chooses to leave you alive, though badly beaten and injured. As the smoke and flames of the battle clear, you find yourself lying on the ground, barely conscious. You open your eyes to see Suguru standing over you, his expression cold and void.
"I truly wish it hadn't come to this," he mutters to himself. “If you change your mind… come find me.”
Your vision begins to falter, and you can barely make out the figure walking away from you, but you know without a doubt it’s Suguru. He leaves you there, alone and helpless.
Fumbling for your phone with what little strength you have left, you try multiple times to unlock it, hitting the incorrect digits over and over again while desperately trying to remain conscious. You finally get past your home screen, and you click through your contacts. There is only one person who comes to your mind – one person for you to reach out to. As you tap Satoru’s name, you use every last bit of energy you have to send him your current location – nothing else.
The world around you goes dark, and you slip into unconsciousness.
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✧ thanks for reading! part two will have fluff :') read part two here.
taglist: @haychhans @mysticnozel @luvrsbian @xxxxwhatsername @imonhereforareasonsadly @kalulakunundrum @ch3rryistheg @skyahri @genshingeeksworld @seilahtitania32 @strychnynegirl @kazbrkker @moneyy-21 @tifa1991
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yawnderu · 9 months ago
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MORE!! NEET!READER!! I’m obsessed with this it’s so silly and cute <33 I love your writing I can scroll through your page for hours 🍒
“Y'wanna what?” Simon almost chokes on his water at the request, looking down at you with raised eyebrows. He's always been an expressive man, even more so underneath the heavy layers of his balaclava— even more so with his best friend.
“Wank you.” You repeat quietly, slightly nervous hands fidgeting with the edge of your notebook while your head rests on Simon's meaty thigh, shamelessly resting on your knees in front of him the same way you used to do when you were much younger.
Simon's fingers drum against the plastic of his water bottle, eyes narrowing slightly as he tries his best not to laugh at the blunt request, not a single social cue in that little head of yours.
“An' what do I get in return?” Your scrunched up face makes it almost impossible to hold back his laugh, forcing Simon to take a deep breath before his rough, calloused hand goes to caress the length of your hair, subtly pulling you in closer.
“Well, you get wanked...” Simon's hand drifts down to your face, gently cupping your cheek and forcing you to make eye contact, your fingers running along the length of the notebook in your hands as you look up at him expectantly.
Simon's stare isn't half as intimidating when you know how much of a cry baby he used to be as a kid. The corners of your lips tilt up into a small smile as you think about a much younger and innocent version of him— only for the bastard to take the chance to sneak two of his fingers into your mouth, making you recoil back out of pure instinct.
“Tosser.” You try to slap his hand away only for him to grab your wrist out of reflex, shooting a cheeky smirk your way when you look up at him with disbelief. For someone as big as Simon, he's surprisingly gentle, giving you time to protest as he makes your hand run up his thigh, slowly inching towards his already hard cock.
“Go on, then. Give me a proper wank.” Seeing how you don't pull away, Simon wastes no time on lowering the band of his sweatpants, hooking it under his balls to keep in place. You scramble for the notepad on your lap with your free hand, finding a blank page to write about his body's reactions, much to his amusement. Simon doesn't mind being used as an experiment— not when his best friend keeps making him cum.
Your soft hand wraps around his length, feeling it throb beneath your palm as you take notes with your free hand. Simon's dick is as pretty as they come; 21 centimeters of thick meat, green veins running along the shaft, the head of it always seeming to be leaking like a pathetic, broken faucet.
Simon groans the moment your hand starts to move up and down agonizingly slow, a small grin pulling at the corners of your lips the moment his legs part, giving you more room to do whatever you want to him. Your hand goes up to the tip of his cock, rubbing it with your fingers and palm, gathering the precum leaking down only to use it as lube to be able to jerk him off better.
“Fuck.” Simon's head is thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down the moment your now sticky hand goes back to his shaft, muffled deep grunts and moans leaving his lips. Discipline, precision, and control are what Simon built his entire life on, all broken down by you the moment he can feel your warm breath hitting his cock, your flat tongue licking his tip with curiosity that, if it wasn't for how pent-up Simon is, he wouldn't have minded.
Simon's hand joins yours, guiding the rhythm of the handjob to something he needs— hard and fast, your soft digits caressing the thickening veins every once in a while until he can't take it anymore. Without a warning, Simon shoots ropes of thick, hot cum all over your face and tongue, making you let out a surprised yelp at the sensation and taste, already busy taking new notes as you absentmindedly make him ride off his orgasm, feeling new ropes of more watery cum fill your mouth and overwhelm your senses.
Half-lidded brown eyes focus on what you're writing, resisting the urge to roll his eyes despite his intense orgasm, his hand now softly caressing your cheek, making sure to spread his warm cum all over your cheek.
Slightly salty and too thick, doesn't taste that bad.
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