#yes i have giggled about this more than i wish to say

[vaaaaaiolet]

Your seasonally available secret-agent roommate got too into the holiday punch this year, and he's bursting with a secret you're not too keen on coming to terms with.

secret santa fic for @crsssie!! roommates + mistletoe + one serving of cuddling <3

HUGE thank you for setting up Leon Secret Santa 2024 and a HUGER apology for messing up the time 😭 i love you LOADS cressie and i hope this fic has banter that lives up to the wonderful dialogue in your fics <3 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

gn / m, romance, fluff, BANTER, leon is SO BAD at feelings, roommates au, angst / slight miscommunication trope + drunken confessions, close your eyes and ignore canon for me <3 no mention of pronouns but reader has bobby pins in their hair cw: alcohol / drunkenness

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

“Shit, I didn’t-”

“Open your eyes, Leon! You’re going to fall, just hold on to me, we’re almost-”

“...don’t need you to,” he slurs, “I got it!”

Leon, of course, has got nothing at all besides shitfaced drunk. Your key is currently deciding not to fit into the convoluted lock he’d decided was absolutely necessary for your shared apartment. It was something about you having the fighting talent of a bedbound sloth (completely subjective opinion, you’d argued) and him being out of the country every few weeks.

The snow must’ve frozen it over while you two were out tonight, and between shouldering 165 pounds of muscle mass while manifesting a bobby pin into existence from your now-bedraggled hairdo to work into the keyhole, the start of Christmas Day is starting to look like Mission Impossible. 

“Don’t make this harder for me,” you plead to both your problems. 

The lock seems to be the only one to listen. Please, please – yes! The mahogany door to the apartment swings open, and you shoulder in your precious cargo, tracking snow all over the floor that’s sure to melt into sludge come morning. Luckily, the chore chart’s on your side tomorrow: Leon’s due for mopping. 

Once he wakes up from his alcohol induced nap, that is. And then you’ll have your fun. 

You deposit him on the couch faster than your paycheck, and your lungs inflate three sizes once his back makes contact with the cushions. “God, you’re heavy,” you pant, wiping your forehead.

“‘Cause you don’t go to the gym with me. Gotta get stronger.”

“I’ll quit my job and get buff once you start paying more than a third of the rent, yeah?”

Leon snorts. “‘m only here a third of the time anyway,” he says under his breath. 

He’s right, of course. The rent split was your idea, fair and square. But you pretend he isn’t. Pretend that it doesn’t hurt, either, like his punches when he tries to teach you self-defense whenever he’s free.

A cherub ornament must’ve fallen from the Christmas tree in the kitchen and crashed on your couch. Frosty blue eyes flutter open to gaze up at you from the cushions. There’s roses in Leon’s pale cheeks, flushed from the outdoors combined with him drinking his head off tonight, and when a wistful, angelic expression spreads across his face, you wish the snowstorm outside would’ve frozen over your heart instead of the door lock. 

He crooks a finger at you. Whispers like it hurts him, “Got somethin’ to tell ya.”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah?”

“‘s goddamn freezing in here.”

Unbelievable. You throw a couch cushion at his chest and he has the nerve to giggle while you stomp away to shut the front door. “You shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, Leon, what were you thinking?” you scold the subzero air. 

“I can handle my drinks!” he shouts back.

“Then why are you passed out on my couch?”

And despite having your back to him almost ten feet away, you can practically hear his brow scrunch at your words. “Thought it was our couch.”

You wave a flippant hand. “You know what I mean.”

“But you’re right,” he barks out a laugh. “Should be yours. All of it, I…I shouldn’t be here.”

He might be the one drunk tonight, but you’re the one feeling that telltale nausea all of a sudden. Leon’s laugh never makes your stomach roil like this. Screw all the little catches and springs – you twist the biggest one on the door’s lock closed and power walk back to the living room, taking a kneel on the couch next to Leon’s head. He’s turned to the other side now, broad back facing you. Tit for tat. 

“What are you talking about?” Digging your fingers into his right delt, you pry him back to look him in the eye, barely keeping the alarm out of your voice. 

“Uh, coins. Lotsa coins in the couch.” Leon fishes out a dime, shoots you a plastic excuse of a smile like you were born yesterday, “Yours?”

You shake his shoulder. “Don’t play dumb with me, come on. What did you say about you not being here?” 

“Mistletoe too, so much stuff in here…” 

You don’t even spare it a second glance, snatching the sprig out of his fingers. “What’s going on?” you ask, voice trembling. 

Because truth be told, security obsession and his pain-in-the-ass work schedule besides, you really can’t imagine living with anyone else. 

It’s been a year with Leon, your mysterious government agent roommate, the one who you’d spent nights hunched over the kitchen counter with corner store ramen. You’d gripe over your shitty coworkers, he’d threaten to tear them each a new one, and you’d half-pretend to beg him not to. And then you’d both couch surf until the sunrise, with you ending up cuddling into his chest and magically tucked into bed the next morning with your share of the chores done before Leon left for the day.

Leon’s shoulder was always there for you to cry on after failed first dates. It was the one favor you couldn’t pay back in kind; the man seemed to have zero interest in dating with a curious tendency to grow quiet whenever the question got brought up. But for him, you kept your first aid kit stocked. You’ve lost count of how many times you’d stayed up past two AM cleaning his cuts and icing his bruises upon his return home. 

It was a shared agreement. He kept his secrets, you got a built-in best friend. Or at least you thought you did before now.

Your throat stings. “Is this why you drank so much? You didn’t have the guts to tell me you hate living together?” You crumple the hem of his sweater in your fist.

The faraway look in Leon’s eyes clears instantaneously once he registers what’s starting to spill down your cheeks. 

Your next demand comes out riddled with cracks. “You have to be h-honest, Leon, promise me. Why don’t you want to stay?”

“Then you’ll stop crying?” 

Leon’s hands clumsily drift up to cup your cheeks, but the world’s gone full snowglobe through your haze of tears. You don’t pay them any mind, nodding fervently. 

“It’s you,” he breathes. 

You smell the mulled wine in his breath. Your holiday once-favorite, sweet and and now sickening. You’re a bruised peach, frostbitten and smashed under his Timberlands. Leon had it all wrong; it wasn’t the front door that needed to be padlocked, it was your stupid heart and the creeping realization that you’d tried to stave off with all those horrible dates and more excuses to fall asleep in his arms. 

The thing Leon did get right, though, was that you had no fighting chance. How could you let him break his way so completely into your life? He wasn’t even here half the time and here you are, fighting the clock to greet him home like he even wanted you there. 

You shake your head, interrupting the thumbs trying to wipe away your tears. “That’s fine. Yeah. Totally fine,” you sniffle, putting on your customer service brave face.

“No,” Leon frowns. 

“If I’m such a horrible roommate, we can sto-”

“No,” he repeats firmly. “Don’t…ugh,” he claps a hand to his forehead, the alcohol headache hot on his heels. 

“Don’t what?” you cry.

“Not helping,” Leon grits.

“Sorry for being sad that I’ll miss my best friend? I don’t know what you want me to-”

There’s a sharp pull on your wrist. With an exasperated sigh, Leon lifts the fist at your side with the sprig of mistletoe still in it above your head. You get one, maybe two seconds to wonder how he remembered it was there before his lips collide with yours, his calloused palm guiding your cheek towards his cherry-flavored mouth. The wind knocks out of you – more than that time you dared him to throw you over his shoulder.

The mistletoe falls out of your fingers. Leon’s thumb brushes the last tear out of the corner of your eye and mulled wine becomes your favorite again.

“Didn’t have the guts to say I liked ya,” he mumbles, and your heart skips. Leon’s smiling. 

“You’d rather move out than admit you like me?” you tease, breathless, arms circling around his neck the way they always do when he princess carries you. 

“Sweetheart, y’know me.”

And yeah, you do. Nobody else does quite like you.

“Stupid.” You let him kiss you a moment more before pulling away; you can’t help that his frowny face is your favorite expression on him when he’s drunk. “And you know what happens when you pull stupid stunts like that?”

Leon blinks at you, the consequences of bad backflipping flashing through his head. “Don’t want plunger duty!” he groans, flopping back onto the couch.

He’ll be wishing the toilet rats a Merry Christmas, poor guy. Your guy. You’ll just have to wait to cuddle him after he takes an hour-long shower.

@leonsecretsanta MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL!! link to my masterlist lol

dividers by @/strangergraphics!

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Pairing: Yukimiya Kenyu x GN!Reader Synopsis: playing along might lead to something, right? Especially when everyone in your family knows where this leads to. Themes: fluff!! Best friends to lovers, fake dating (kinda??), Yukimiya is a joy to write, cliche situations, rom-com coded Author's Note: Denisse had a dream (legit). When I woke up yesterday, all I could remember was Yukki being there. Wth???

"He's really everything we wanted for you," your auntie's high-pitched voice said, irritating your ear and causing you to scrunch your nose as you plastered on a fake smile you've been wearing since the celebration started. "Yeah, I know, Auntie!"

You can see him laughing and playing with the little kids from afar. They love him. Who wouldn't anyway? He's gentle, mindful, kind-hearted... Exactly what your auntie said. He's everything you wanted. 

Yukimiya chased after the kids, his voice faintly heard from the garden as the children screamed in excitement. He caught one of your little cousins and lifted him, flipping him upside down. You smiled softly at the view of seeing him being goofy, and he met your gaze. His orange eyes softened as he stared at you for a moment and then back at your cousin who was starting to wiggle off his grasp. Oh, how you wish...

Where did it even begin?

University wasn't as kind as people say. You had difficulty catching up with classes since it seemed so different from when you were in middle school. You'd rush to your classes, sometimes just in time, sometimes just a few minutes late, but there was one particular class you took where you bothered to arrive early. It was one you had with him.

Yukimiya with his pretty hair, always styled most perfectly. Yukimiya with his soft voice, floats in the air every time he participates in class or delivers a report. Yukimiya was fairly popular as a model and one of the best players on the university's soccer team. Yukimiya, who you wondered why he bothered to be friends with you.

He always made you wonder why he chose you to be his seatmate that day, how his little snarky comments about your professor made you giggle silently, how he would help you out everytime you were in a sticky situation in your class, how he became a frequent visitor in your little dorm, be it hanging out or studying together. 

It's been 3 good years of having him as your closest friend, the one who knew you more than anyone in your family.

Yukimiya felt the same way. He was intrigued by your presence when he saw you on your seat, eyes meeting the moment he entered. He thought it was normal to look at the person who just entered the class, but a part of him thought otherwise. That's why he sat beside you that day, and the days afterward. He was comfortable being silly with you, letting his personality shine with you. He feels like he can act normally outside his modeling and soccer spheres. 

A week before winter break, you've received calls from your mother and aunties, reminding you to come home for a big family gathering before Christmas. It has been like that since you were a baby. The family always made sure that everyone would be there, with no excuses or exceptions.

"When will you come home? Hmm? Do you have enough money for the trip? Remember not to bring too many clothes, okay? You still have enough here."

Your mother's voice fills your empty dorm room as you flip through the pages of your reviewer, trying to at least study once more before your exam later that day. You heard the door click open, revealing a bundled-up Yukimiya entering your dorm.

"Yes, Mom," you sighed as you watched Yukki slip off his shoes and wear his slippers, "I'll be home next Wednesday after I finish everything I need to do in school. I still have exams this week."

"Okay. That's good. Make sure to take the early morning bus. Your aunties and uncles will be here on Saturday to prepare for the gathering," your mom replied, the busy chatter of the kitchen blending with her voice. Yukki already sat beside you at the little study table you had at your dorm, listening and keeping his mouth shut. "Oh, and honey," your mom chimed again, "please, at least, this time bring someone home?"

You groaned and said a flat "I'll try" before rushing to end the call with the excuse of studying (though it was true. It was embarrassing for Yukki to hear that). After so many kisses, goodbyes, and okays, the call ended, and you leaned back in your seat. "So, you had to hear that," you said, chuckling. Yukki offered a small smile as he leaned on his seat, shaking his head. "I understand. My mother keeps asking to bring someone too, so I understand the frustration." 

"Oh, yeah, I bet," you replied, rolling your eyes at him. Yukki laughed and started to poke your shoulders. "What? You don't believe me?"

"No? You're too good-looking to be single, Ken. Come on. You might be having a relationship behind my back by now!" You replied, scoffing. 

"I don't. I would've told you by now if I had one."

"One??" you exclaimed as you leaned forward on the table, resting your chin on your hand. "So you could probably bag two then?"

"That's... not what I'm saying," Yukki laughed. "What's going on in your brain? Getting all jumbled up with exams?"

You sighed in response. Yukki knew that you were getting overloaded with worries and expectations for you to bring a guest, so he decided to elevate your worries a little...

"Hey," he spoke softly, "how about I help you with your studies? And you can bring me to your family celebration as your guest, you can tell them I'm your best friend though," he added, teasing you. Your eyes widen at him at the suggestion, making your heart beat a little faster. "You know they'll assume anyway," you replied, stating that families are just like that. "Yeah, but if they assume stuff, we can just clarify it every time. Won't hurt anyone, right?" 

And so, that Wednesday, you were in the morning bus sitting beside Yukki, waiting for it to leave. Your mother was overjoyed to hear that you're bringing Yukki, already mistakenly calling him your boyfriend and you had to correct her twice in the call. The trip was smooth, you two enjoyed the view of the countryside from the window as you two shared earbuds, listening to his playlist (in your opinion, he has a better taste in music). "Won't your family wonder why you're not home for the break?" You asked him, your head resting on his shoulder. You felt him shrug then watched him open his text messages to his mom, something he was really comfortable doing with you (though in your opinion, again, you find it weird and uncomfortable that he just shows you his texts with his mom out of nowhere). "I told her about your family event and that I'll go home afterward. She's fine with it, and she knows you."

Your childhood home has always been the hub of all celebrations, mostly family reunions, given how spacious it was inside with a bigger garden in front and a backyard for the kids to run around. The moment you opened the gate of your home, your mother was already by the door, waiting for your arrival. "Oh! My sweet baby has come home! Finally!" She squealed as she came running towards you, showering your face with kisses. Yukki relished what was happening, smiling to himself. "Oh! And you must be Yukimiya," your mother said, turning her attention to your best friend. Yukki, with his best manners, bowed to greet your mother, flashing her his kindest smile. His soft eyes have captured your mother's affection, blushing slightly. "Oh dear, you never told me your boyfriend was a charmer!"

"Mom, best friend," you corrected her. She only tsked and moved away from the both of you, as if she was eyeing how you two looked beside each other. "Your father and I were best friends before we got together. You two are on the right path, you just don't know it yet. Now, come along and I'll show you to your room."

As embarrassing as it was, you two were assigned to sleep in your childhood room, with all the plushies and little toy collectibles still on your shelves, untouched. "We cleaned as much as we could since you'll be sharing your room with your boyfriend," your mom said, drawing the curtains open. "I hope you don't mind my sweet baby's collection, Yukimiya. They had too many hobbies growing up!" 

"It's alright. I can say it's the same for me, though it's just soccer-related," Yukki replied, examining your toy collections. "Oh? An athlete? Sweetheart, you never told me your boyfriend was the sporty type! We're gonna have the athlete gene in our family!"

"Mom, please stop," you groaned, pushing her out of your room, "and again, best friend."

Your mom just laughed as she walked out. "I'll give you two some time alone now," she teased as she closed the door behind her. You sighed and plopped on your bed. You two couldn't even fit on this bed, and you don't have anything for him to lie down on if he pushes sleeping on the floor (which will not be happening, not on your watch.)

"Your mom sounds fun," Yukki commented, pulling your chair from your desk to the bed. He sat down on it as he watched you think about something. "We can't fit," he added, guessing your worries. "And you're not sleeping on the floor," you replied,

"We'll figure it out."

Your mom scolded you that night for planning to sleep on the couch, pulling you back to your room and practically pushing you toward Yukki. He was enjoying all of this as your mom told you to stay in your room and you being a huffing mess. Your mom left you both alone in your room, and you turned to punch his arm. "I can hear you laughing the whole time, asshole," you groaned. Yukki's laughter filled the room as he tried to catch your punches. "Hey, I just love seeing you in this situation."

"Whatever. I'll be by the wall."

You climbed on the bed, claiming your spot. He laid beside you. In the dark. It was awkward given this was the first time you were this close and vulnerable. 

"You okay?" 

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep. Don't roll on my spot in the morning and cuddle me."

You laughed, turning to give him one more punch.

"In your dreams, Ken."

"Yeah, in my dreams."

You'd like to think that it was a comedy skit, the way you two just started to play along with your aunties and uncles after getting tired of correcting them everytime they assume that you two are an actual couple. The aunties fell in love instantly when they laid eyes on Yukki, working his charm with every smile and response. They complimented you for choosing such a handsome and kind man, and you'd fake laugh and respond, "Yeah". Your uncles loved him the most because he'd engage in their conversation about soccer, easily getting into their good graces. It was too good to be true.

Now the kids love him too.

"In your dreams?" you asked him after the party had died. You led him to the garden where you sat on the coffee table. "Hmm?"

"What did you mean by that?" You asked again.

"Did you know you rolled on my spot?" Yukki asked instead with a smile on his face, "You look cute in your sleep," You scowled at him, a blush of embarrassment slowly appearing on your cheeks. "You're making things up, Kenyu,"

"I took a picture as proof," he said, fishing his phone from his pocket. "No! No, don't show me! God, Yukki!" You stood up from your seat to playfully pull on his sweater, which Yukki found so silly. "Careful! This is expensive!" He joked as he held your wrists to stop you from pulling him, "I will pay for it as long as you delete that photo!" 

The laughter died down and you finally let go of him, sitting back on your chair. There was a brief silence between the two of you, only the soft chatter of the ladies inside can be heard. Yukki sighed, looking up at the lavender skies. "I realized something," he said softly, "I realize I can no longer hide this from you. This might be the worst timing, given that we already had given up correcting everyone in your family, but I need you to know this."

"Eh? What are you talking about? Are sick from all the-"

"I like you."

Yukimiya kept staring at the sky as you looked at him in shock. Is your best friend of 3 years liking you back? He doesn't know but hearing that made you think that the gods and your ancestors actually answered your prayers for the longest time. "It started when we became such close friends. Your family mistakenly calling me your boyfriend kinda made me wanna come clean with how I feel for you. I wanna confront this feeling that I've been pushing back and ignoring for the sake of our friendship. We've played along with everyone here today and it made me believe we could be something, and I have a good feeling that you feel the same...

Do you?"

"Do I...?"

Yukimiya chuckled and brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. "Like me?"

"... I love you."

"Really?" Yukki asked, his smile widening. Now, this was something so new to you. You have seen him smile, mostly grin and smirk, but never a full smile. This one was the first. His joy was contagious as you caught yourself smiling along with him. You shook your head, confirming that yes, you really love him. Yes, you knew for the longest time. Yes, you don't mind having him as your boyfriend.

Yes, the bed was a little warmer that night...

And yes, your mother was the happiest one when she found out months later that you and Yukki are officially a couple, reminding you again of how she and your father met and got together for the hundredth time in your lifetime, though she's more excited about the fact that you guys finally have an athlete in the family. 

[ratatatastic]

god's most tortured soldier? ekky and its not even close but he also has a guardian angel working overtime to cancel it out

st louis blues @ florida panthers | 12.20.24

[tonycries]

Something Stupid - G.S.

Synopsis. Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends-to-lóvers, canon fix-it, PINING, dry-húmping, face-sítting (fem receiving), creampíe, overstím, PÚSSYDRUNK GOJO, ríding him until he whínes, no smút until they’re adults obvs, slight ángst, manga spoilers, found family, THE HAPPY ENDING WE DESERVE, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.6k

A/N. Tumby lemme post this pwease? What canon? This is the only canon I know.

“Catch me if you-”

Sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru doesn’t have the privilege of finishing his sentence - hell, he doesn’t even have the privilege of standing, apparently.

Because in the blink of an eye, his back is hitting the soft grass of Jujutsu Tech, followed very shortly by a bewildered you. Foreheads knocking together, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, his own wrapping around your waist for some sense of stability.

Years later, Gojo tells everyone that would listen - and anyone that won’t - that life became just a bit brighter ever since you crashed into his life that day - literally. 

But right now, he’s opening his mouth to spit an irritated, “Watch it!”

It’s the first words you ever say to him, a shrill - almost hysterical - “Huh? No, you watch it-”

“Nuh uh, you-” Head spinning, shades skewed, it takes Gojo a few seconds to screw his bleary eyes open to the sudden newcomer straddled on top of him. And a few more to register that no, he wasn’t in heaven and hey, that uniform looks familiar. And, unfortunately, not even a split-second longer to breathe out something stupid, “I…I think I love y-”

“You stupid, moronic- wait what?”

The next few words out of his mouth are just as bad as the last ones, if not worse. Because yes he knows - for once in his life - that maybe he should just stop talking. He knows that even a moment longer with you is gonna turn his mind into more of a melty, honeyed mess than Six Eyes ever could. 

Which is exactly what he blames when jumbling out a garbled, “Dinner tomorrow?” Wincing, Gojo swallows them back almost as quickly as he wished he was swallowed up by Geto’s rainbow dragon instead. 

To your credit, you look a lot less bumbling than the strongest currently pinned underneath you. That look of annoyance on your pretty features melts into something of concern. And before he can dig a deeper hole for himself, you’re raising the back of your hand to splay out across his forehead.

“I didn’t think you hit the ground that hard but-” you raise a brow, head tilting to the side. “-I think you’ve got a concussion.”

Oh, yeah he’s definitely in heaven - that or actually concussed. Maybe both.

A low whistle sounds from his right - and soon enough he’s staring at the shoes of the other first-year he’d met just today. Low bangs hanging over his face, jostling with light cackles, “Haven’t they told you not to confess your undying love until at least the second date, Gojo?”

Nevermind, he was in hell.

“Ieri!” Geto turns towards the other girl, who was busy typing away on her phone. But Gojo could’ve sworn he heard the shutter of a camera coming from her way. “He was flown out of bounds, that’s gotta count as one point for me, right? And another for the pretty girl. You keepin’ score?”

She only sighs, “No.”

What’s a first day at high school without a duel between two of the proudly self-proclaimed strongest? And, of course, you - the fourth addition to their little group, hastily scrambling off of Gojo’s lap at the jeering laughter from above. 

Dammit. 

Later, he might apologize for running headfirst into you - might. Ignoring the pointed giggles, and the burning rouge at the very tip of his ears, to find out your name. And to make up some stilted excuse about how that was completely the concussion talking and he totally wasn’t serious about having dinner so please, please, please don’t snitch to Yaga about the impromptu matches taking place on school grounds…unless? 

But for now, Gojo’s only lazily turning to look up at Geto, bringing a hand up to squint against the harsh sun beating down. Or, at least, that’s what it was meant to look like - “Technique amplification: Blue!”

He only hopes the property damage isn’t as high as what his poor heart had just gone through. Detention with Yaga be damned - and if by some grace of the universe he actually does end up escaping before he’s caught then, well, he’ll actually ask you out to dinner tomorrow. 

---

Gojo Satoru is almost eighteen when he thinks that not even the Gojo family’s most expensive insurance will cover whatever curse you’ve casted on his poor heart.

You’re both well into the second year, and by now he’d been to twelve different doctors, five shamans, and Principal Yaga himself before Geto smacked him upside the head. 

“Satoru, you complete imbecile-”

“Hey!” He fights out of his best friend’s grasp around the scruff of his uniform, crossing his arms over his chest with a whine, “I’ll have you know that I got the highest exam score last week, and I cheated only a little bit-”

Geto cuts him off with a sigh, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose, “No- you idiot. What do you mean you went to Yaga to girl-talk with him about your crush.” And when Gojo’s mouth falls slack, he’s smirking, “Oh- my bad, I meant your love-”

It’s said that Gojo’s gasp echoed all throughout the wooden corridors of the school - maybe even the entire grounds. Hotly, he’s sputtering out broken little excuses, “I don’t- what do you-” Before turning away to cool the burning of his sweetly rosy cheeks, “You’re the imbecile for spewing out such nonsense, Suguru.”

“Are you sure?” Geto turns to get a better look at the way those pretentiously expensive glasses fail to cover even the half of it. He’s never been able to, when it comes to you. “Because that’s quite literally the first thing you said to her-”

“I had a concussion!”

“After she touched you?” 

And for perhaps the first time in the years he’s been wreaking havoc on Earth, Gojo is speechless. A welcome change for Geto, who mulls over in the silence while they loiter - very much missing whatever mission was assigned right now. 

“I…” he starts, voice small. Pathetic, even. “...was concussed.” And before Geto can let out the same frustrated, dragged-out groan he often does whenever he’s around the two of you, Gojo’s plowing on, “But if I did lo- like her - hypothetically speaking - how would I even tell her?”

Usually, the other’s first reaction would be to tease his best friend. But at this moment he sounded so…young, painfully sincere in a way that was so disgustingly un-Gojo-like that he can’t help but cringe.

“Well, Satoru.” he muses, throwing a hand around his shoulder. “You just gotta…tell her my man. Preferably before that big mission coming up because I am not dragging your moping self around.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Gee, thanks. I’ll totally get on that tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome.”

BANG!

Yaga’s voice bellows, “Can you two stop doing this outside my office!”

And as much as Gojo hates to admit it, Geto was right - he usually was. 

Well - perhaps not about the love part, but subconsciously, he found himself seeking out every tiny moment with you. Every second by your side - ignoring the other two bothers - was a new opportunity to just tell you. To break that thick solitude inside your little bubble with those little words. Ones that would go and spoil it all. 

Not to be dramatic, but Gojo almost made a game out of it. Mouthing out the words whenever your back was turned - it started from “Dinner tomorrow?” to “I like you.” to something stupid that only gave Shoko aneurysms. 

And, expectedly, “tomorrow” doesn’t happen to be tomorrow. 

Tomorrow isn’t in your next class, or whatever mission Gojo tags along with you for “moral support.” Tomorrow isn’t the cozy little detention the two of you attend after catching Yaga’s interpretive dance routine - “that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen- even more than any curse.” you whisper fearfully to him, and he thinks he might just blurt it out right then and there.

Tomorrow isn’t when he’s just about to leave on some confidential mission with Geto, bidding you goodbye with a roll of his eyes and a hug he pretends he doesn’t like as much as he actually does. Tomorrow isn’t even when he’s baking in Okinawan sun, or strewn out bloodied and left for dead on the very grounds he met you on. 

But oh how he wishes it was.

In that moment, incapacitated by Toji Fushiguro, and wondering where it went wrong, he thinks of you. Gojo thinks he’ll always remember you in every moment, and especially when they’re his last.

The Star Plasma Vessel mission and its aftermath takes up most of his mind afterward, even when he didn’t want it to. And all he can remember about tomorrow comes only a few months later, when an ashen-faced Gojo Satoru slams open the rickety door to your dorm.

“G-Gojo?” you sputter, sitting up in your bed. But before you can even think of reaching him, he’s crossed your floor in a few long strides. “Are you ok- mmpf!”

In an instant, he’s splaying out on your mattress, legs dangling off the end, strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist. 

Your first instinct is to snap something snarky - but every tease at the very tip of your tongue vanishes when he buries his head into your lap. And you feel something wet, something drench though your skirt heatedly. 

“Is…” you’re gulping thickly. “Is everything okay, Satoru?”

Ah, his name sounds too perfect on your tongue. 

“Suguru…” Is all he shudders out wetly, jittery hands looping even more vice-like around your figure. “He-”

It’s just about the only thing he can get out, and it’s just about everything you need to hear before bringing his shivering body closer. Quiet. Steady. Rocking the strongest gently, while you hum a wordless melody. “S’alright. S’gonna be okay.”

Now, he thinks. Now now now now - tell her. Tell her. But when a tear of your own stains his shirt, he knows. Hauling you in even deeper to his chest, he prays you don’t hear his thundering heart. Perhaps tomorrow. 

---

Gojo is twenty-one by the time he’s dragging you hand-in-loveable-hand through the winding hallways of an apartment in the heart of Tokyo. Mumbling excited little mutters, and almost tripping over his own feet with how fast he was navigating the corridors. 

“Sato- S-Sato-” you’re squealing out, grimacing at the tugging burn of your hands in his. “Toru! Where are you- taking me?” 

Sheepishly, he looks at you over his shoulder, “Whoops, did I forget to tell you- I have kids!”

He doesn’t know what’s louder - your shocked shout of “What? When?...By who?” or the screeching of his own two shoes skidding to a halt in front of that familiar door. 

“Well, they’re not mine.” Gojo sighs ultimately, with a hand at the door. And that makes you quieten down just enough to hear his barely-audible little whisper. Determined. Reverent, almost. “But they’re mine.”

And when he finally opens the door, just one look at the tiny, black-haired little boy and his sharp scowl is all you need to understand. You’re whirling your eyes back to his beaming gaze, oh, Satoru.

Only mere moments later the two of you - accompanied by a very begrudging Megumi, and his sister - sit by the booth of one of your favorite cafés. Embarrassingly, he finds himself sighing while watching you crack jokes with the little girl. Turning to the server to order for her - it almost felt like a little family. Oh you’d make such a perfect mother. A completely objective observation, of course. Completely. Unless- 

“You’ll never do it.” a tug on his sleeve has him facing Megumi’s leveled stare. How the hell does a kid manage to look like he’s seen the monstrosities of the world already? Gojo blames the father.

Baring his teeth, “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Little did he know that all it took was watching him seethe whenever the waiter by your side was just a bit too talkative, a bit too lingering with his gaze. In his little reverie, Gojo had accidentally croaked out a low, “I-” before you’d turned those pretty eyes his way, only to choke back embarrassingly on every syllable. Gesturing at you to ignore his little mishap. 

“Tell her, I mean.” Megumi hums. Taking a wizened sip of his milkshake, “She’ll date that waiter before you if you don’t tell her.”

“That’s so…so stupid.” Gojo whispers back hotly. “I will tell her.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will-” 

“Boys!” Your scolding tone makes them both jump - mainly Gojo, however, caught off-guard. Who scratches behind his neck when you wag a finger admonishingly, “Stop arguing, we’re in public. Now, as for payment-” Before turning back politely to the waiter.

“See?” Megumi counters, back to appraising the last of his cupcake. “You’re such a loser.”

Gojo’s gaze, however, stray back your way, as he found them often doing these days. Only to find them already on him, scrunched into crescents with a smile and twinkling so bright that he could almost catch his idiotic gawking in them. 

Very pointedly he ignores the knowing roll of Megumi’s eyes, the exact type he’s seen too much with Shoko, and Nanami, and Utahime, and Yaga - and every single being to come into contact with his almost-tangibly hopeless feelings for you.

Instead, slamming that shiny new black card of his down in front of him - with enough fervor that the tabletop jostles, and you jolt out of your conversation with the waiter. 

“I’ll be the one paying for myself, and my two kids and-” His burning eyes drink in every shred of surprise on your features. “-my wife.”

Somewhere in the distance, Gojo can hear Tsumiki giggle, and Megumi smack a hand onto his forehead. But right now he’s too busy remembering the exact degree to which your lips curl up, the way you hold back a laugh at the waiter’s jaw dropping. Nevermind the fact that the two of you were way too young to have two kids of this age. 

“He was getting a bit pushy.” you’d conspire afterwards, now completely full and fatigued after a long day. “Thanks for that, Toru.”

Gojo sighs, flashing you a megawatt grin. If there were ever a time he thanks his Six Eyes for being able to memorize every little detail - every little feature in this picture - then it would be right now. He’s reveling in the bittersweet perfection. Yeah, he thinks, holding up a sleepy Megumi in his arms, maybe tomorrow.

---

There’s actually been about sixty different times over the years that Gojo knows you’d wanted to punch him straight in his face - and he’s sure, at the age of twenty-seven, that this is the very latest one. 

“How did you get hit, don’t you have limitless?”

He shoots a wink your way, “Maybe I wanted you to patch me up?”

You scoff, “You stupid, moronic-”

“-no-brained, glasses-wearing dumbass.” he finishes for you, flashing you a cocky smirk that wouldn’t have been endearing for anyone but him. Gojo makes himself more comfortable on the hard infirmary bed, “You know, you’ve really got to update your list of insults, sweetheart. I don’t even wear the shades that much anymore.”

It was new - as soon as you’d cackled at the idea of him being a teacher with perpetual sunglasses, he’d wrapped that blindfold around his head. It was a slight shame, frankly, he was always honest with his eyes - but what was more important was that change.

Sweetheart.

Sometime after you’d intertwined seamlessly into Gojo’s mishmashed little family, he’d taken to calling you syrupy sweet nicknames. It’d started out as a joke, you think - with “sugarplum” and “honeybuckets” and whatever grocery item he could think of, before turning into something very, very real. 

Though, they still made poor Megumi grimace in disgust just the same.

“Zoning out on me, babygirl?” 

Yeah, sometimes they made you grimace in disgust, too. 

“No-” you’re rolling your eyes, putting a little bit more force than necessary when you dab the warm napkin at those tiny specks of blood on his lip. “Just hoping you’d shut up.”

Gojo hisses, eyes crinkling at the edges - and you can’t help but think of how much older he looked than the disgruntled sixteen-year-old that swore at you on your first day. 

“What?” his snowy brows raise, catching the hints of your laughter. 

You take a moment longer to bask in the memories, before sighing. “Nothing. Just thinking about when we first met, s’been ten years already, hasn’t it?”

Of course, it has - it’s not like something the great Gojo Satoru could ever even think about forgetting. He remembers it in every cheesy selfie from high school you show him, he remembers in each and every one of your laughs at his overused jokes - the same ones he’d cracked way back then. 

“It has.” he’s settling on after a few rare beats of silence. The thick white sheets on the bed rustle as he grasps your hand in his, “And I think I remember that today more than any other.”

It was impossible not to, when you’d just met your best friend after ten years. When you’d just killed your best friend with your own two hands.

Your pretty eyes shine with all the tears you’d been hiding, “Yeah? Guess so, huh?” Without warning, you bend down to meet your forehead with his, gulping back heavily. You knew he didn’t just want to be patched up, you knew better. And you knew that even the strongest gets lonely. Especially the strongest. Your voice is strained, quiet. “Do you think he’s happier now, Toru?”

Truthfully, Gojo doesn’t know. 

But he whispers anyway, “I think so.”

To soothe you - and himself - if anything.

His eyes burn, and he’s scrunching them shut. A lump forming in his throat, Gojo can feel his entire being just rattle with the sudden wonder whether you’d feel it just the same when - if - he dies. Would you ask if he’s happy, too? Thinking he did and had everything he wanted in this life - not knowing he’s searching for you in every one? This life, and the next, and each one after.

“Sweetheart.” Gojo mumbles, eyes widening when you’re raising your head to look back at him, as if he didn’t even expect the words to fall from his lips. His jaw clenches, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips like the rest of it was just threatening to wrench from his throat. “He- Suguru. Back in high school - before he…left- he told me-” 

“Gojo sensei, where is the- Oh!”

The two of you jump apart as if it burned, and for Gojo, the angry split on his lower lip hurts infinitely less than losing your touch. Holding back a silent whine, he turns towards the dark-haired boy fretting by the doorway, “Yuta? Something wrong?”

“Oh, you’ve done it, newbie.” Panda’s deep voice sounds from behind the doorway, and he peaks his large head in. “Gojo’s got his serious voice on, should’ve just spied silently like me. I told you not to interrupt him and his wife.”

“You’re married?!”

“We’re not married!”

“Tuna.”

The room erupts in far too many voices, and before long you’re clapping your hands in that strict teacherly manner that Gojo teases you always learned from Yaga himself. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” you call out, before turning to the newest first year. “Okkotsu, do you need help with anything? I’ll be right with you.” 

“I…I really didn’t mean to interrupt.” he’s bowing with apologies, ones that you only wave away with a chuckled-out, “It’s okay, Panda’s joking. We’re not married or anything anyway.”

And Gojo doesn’t know whether the look Yuta gives him is more akin to pity or understanding - he prefers it be neither, which is why he’s covering his head with the blanket. Groaning dramatically until you’re turning your attention back to him. 

You ruffle the amount of his hair peaking, and he has to screw his glassy eyes shut. “Toru, what is it that you wanted to say?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s stupid.” His tone is unreadable, “I’ll tell you, hope- hopefully tomorrow.”

---

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart.” 

You’re barely holding up the clingy mess that is a twenty-nine-year-old Gojo Satoru. Huffing and puffing in a way that makes his heart and his arms around you just squeeze, “It’s not an option. You know I have to do this.”

How he wished he didn’t.

How he wished he could grab your hand and run away from the fight with Sukuna, hide in the countryside of his hometown and build a new life with you.

It’s already been a hellish few weeks trying to get Gojo unsealed, and you can feel the last few months pounding at your temples. You let out a sigh, one that has him holding back a strangely giddy laugh. But before you can open your mouth to yell at him to not go - or more accurately, beg him until he doesn’t - there’s a tentative voice speaking up from behind you. 

“Um…sensei?” Yuji’s wide eyes sweep over his two teachers, being at Jujutsu Tech for a few months, he’s seen everything there is to see about the two of you. He saw the way you smacked the strongest when he got too mouthy, the way he let down limitless just so you could smack him. He saw the laughs, the looks, the way you’d flown into a frenzy when Gojo was sealed. 

Everyone saw.

It was like you were crazed, and right now, only a month after his return - you were gripping onto Gojo like he was the only thing keeping you anything but. 

So, it shouldn’t be new at this point. But he still can’t hold back the wonder in his voice, “I uh- wanted to ask about your robes for tomorrow- but maybe I can come back another time?”

“Yes yes, come back another time-”

“What robes?” 

You narrow your eyes at the man, and that sheepish little curl of his lips does everything but soothe your worries. He knew you saw right through him, you always did. 

Gojo’s exclaiming out loud, “Well- remember Toji-?” He waves his hands around, trying for a slightly softer way to say ‘the sorcerer killer and father of our honorary kid, who just-so-happens to be on a rampage right now’, before ultimately settling on, “-the worm guy? Well, I just figured I might as well take a page out of his book and dress like him, y’know since I’m fighting…Megumi after all.”

It takes a few seconds of stunned silence for you to find your voice, “You stupid-” 

“-moronic, no-brained, blindfold-wearing-”

“-dumbass! You remember what happened to him!” 

He bats his long, long lashes at you, “Why? Would you get this heated if I died just the same way he did?”

“No!” Your voice makes even Yuji flinch, which in turn has you reaching over to pat his head, “This is not on you, darling, of course. But your teacher here-” And it was comical, almost, the way the strongest stands up ramrod straight at just a leveled glare from you, “-will be getting it when he comes back from the fight.”

Comes back.

Oh, as much as Gojo throws his head back with chortles, he can’t help the way his heart twinges at the very thought of leaving you. 

And he can’t be sure of just how long.

“Ah, you talk too much, pretty. I’ll tell Megs how much you miss him.” You’re not given a second’s warning before you’re back in his embrace - more steady, this time. His arms securely around your waist, like they’d been twelve years ago and never wanted to leave since. Lips pressed up against the thundering pulse at your neck, Gojo’s voice dips just a bit lower than you’re used to. Breathing you in, “I will, too, y’know? Very much.”

Jittery, he could feel every slight tremor in your nervous fingers when you run them through his hair, dipping into the ends of his black blindfold. 

“Wh-what do you mean? S’only for a few hours, Toru.” you hum. “You better be back or so help me.”

“I know…” he heaves out, only pressing you close up against his broad frame. “But just in case- I-” Gojo’s voice cracks pathetically at the end, and he’s instantly too aware of Yuji’s keen eyes still watching. Edging up against the corner of the room like he wished he could have Gojo’s teleportation powers right about now. “-have something stupid to tell you. So I’ll hurry home anyways.”

You’re pulling back to quirk a brow, “Why not just tell me now?”

How he wished he could.

“Because it’s stupid.” 

Later, Gojo will find himself strewn across jujutsu hall with Yuji himself - the only one, other than you, he thinks, that can stand to be around a weapon like him right now. Listening to the hum of cursed energy in the air, he gets himself ready for the fight.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Especially now?” His student pipes up, suddenly, and Gojo remembers with a sigh just how uncomfortably in tune he is with everyone around him. Fearfully, so. “That you lov-”

“Because it’s stupid.” the older one grins. Such a sad, warmly smile - and for perhaps the first time, Yuji thinks that Gojo Satoru looks his age. “And I don’t think she’d want to hear it if I don’t make it to tomorrow.”

---

“Stupid.” you mutter, biting angrily at your nails. Hot tears burn behind your closed lids, and you can’t help but tighten your hand even more around his cold, cold ones. Limp. Like death. “You’re so, so stupid.”

There’s no response. No sing-song voice finishing off your insults, no large and ruffling your hair until you have to bat him away. 

Gojo Satoru was deathly still. 

Laid out on the cold mattress of his room, you’d bugged Shoko enough to let you move him here, knowing how much he hated the infirmary. 

“Being so reckless- having Yuta use your body-” in your fit of anger, you’re whirling your head up. Only for the pang of regret and grief to hit you tenfold all over again - because like this, he was too statuesque. A pretty mask of pale, what you’d give to have those eyes wink at you once more. “-if- when you wake up, I’m gonna kill you all over again.”

They told you he was dead - there was no point in waiting. In fact, you were sure there was a grave dug already, it was just a matter of how soon they could get to you. 

It was a strange thing, to be loved just enough to get a burial. In the end, it was lonely.

And so stupid. 

And at times, you felt that way, too. But all it took was one visit to where Geto’s grave was, a few long hours sat by his side, and you knew you couldn’t let Gojo escape you that easily. Not after everything, not after what he hasn’t told you, yet.

“Just wake up.” you sigh, the defeat bleeding into your every word. You run your thumb over the pronounced knuckles on his hand, calloused and scarred from his fight. “There’s so much to hear about. Higuruma’s alive, Nobara’s alive, pulling off that eyepatch. Like father, like daughter, huh? And Megumi- I saw Megumi laugh today. Yuji, too.”

Silence. Only stone-cold silence. He didn’t even move - not even the barest twitch of a finger.

“I just need you to wake up.” Your words are tumbling out a mile a minute, distantly, you wonder whether this was how Gojo felt when he first met you. How he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop wanting. “Shoko’s mad at you, y’know? But I know she misses you, no matter how much she pretends not to. I know that Jujutsu Tech can’t go any longer without Yaga, we- I need you. Didn’t even get to tell you-” 

It’s all croaked out into a deafening silence, at least if you were in the hospital room then maybe the pinging of the heart monitor might’ve accompanied you. But they’d pulled him off that, too. 

Unmistakable. 

“And I know that I…” You bury your face into the now-damp blankets, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

There’s only the split-second you take to snap your head up before lips are crashing onto yours - plump, slightly-chapped but something so sweetly Satoru. Before you can even think about kissing back, however, he’s pulling away. 

Only to press hasty, chaste pecks again. And again. And again and again and-

Gojo kisses your wet eyelids, “I love you.” Your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips. “I love you I love you I love you- and you beat me to it.” Those strained little words strike your very core - because it’s unmistakably Gojo. Sounding anything but, they’re broken and wrenching painfully out of his wracking chest. “So I just- I just had to-” Big, strong arms wrap around your middle - when did they even get there? It pangs somewhere in your hazy mind that you’re basically hoisted up on Gojo’s bed now, “-to do exactly what I’ve been wanting to since we were like this, thirteen years ago. Everything I’ve ever hoped for.”

“Everything?” you whisper.

“Everything. Even the strongest has dreams, y’know?” And he flashes you that smile you’ve missed so much, one you don’t think you’ve quite seen in years. “Even something stupid like ‘I love you.’”

That makes you cautiously glide over your palms onto the planes of his muscled chest, lightly pushing away to take in all of him. 

It was him. Alive. 

Really alive.

“Gojo…” you whimper, tears welling up behind your eyelids all over again.

“Ouch. Really?”

“Satoru.”

“Hmmm…”

“Toru.”

“That’s more like it.” The circled warmth around your waist crashes you even closer onto every ridge and divot of his hard chest, into the sweetest embrace - the kind you really couldn’t be mad about after your best friend had almost left you forever. “Told ya I’d come back, sweetheart.”

You could practically hear the sunshiney smile in his words, and his entire hulking body shook with emotion. 

“You’re back.” you breathe, dancing your arms upwards to wrap around his neck. “You’re here.” It takes only a second longer of being in his burning proximity, to catch that pearly white smile - tired, and infinitely harder than before - to have some semblance of rationality dipping into your mind. “-and- and we have to tell everyone!” you’re yelping. Moving to scramble off of his lap, “Oh- fuck, and they thought I was crazy. We have to- have to have Shoko give you a check-up and have Kusakabe finally ditch those funeral plans and-” 

You’re being shut up by Gojo’s lips on yours again, slow and sensual. It’s deeper this time, and he’s taking the time to part those candied lips of yours, sucking gently on the very tip of your hot tongue. 

“My funeral is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” he chuckles against your lips.

“But-”

“Tomorrow.” Gojo soothes, craning his weary neck to kiss your forehead. “We can do all that tomorrow. But right now, I just want to spend time with the love of my life.” His cerulean eyes just gleam with unshed tears and even more unspoken words, “Doesn’t have to be forever. Just right now.”

As promised, he’s petting up and down your body lazily. Kissing you until even smiling felt bruised and raw. But it’s only when the air grows thick, when the slight jostle of your body on top of his becomes hot, his own skin burning soon after that Gojo lets out a sullen hiss. 

“Toru-” you pull away panickedly, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the nonexistent air between you two. “We should really-”

“No- no no no no. Please wait-” Hastily, he’s bringing down a jittery hand to his hip, the buzz of reversed curse technique flowing through his thrumming veins. Meeting your uncertain gaze, “I’ve waited so long. Wontcha just let me worship you right now?”

As if to prove his point, he’s bucking upwards ever-so-slightly. The momentum teetering you precariously on his lap, dragging the heated core between your legs down in such a sloppy drag.

You’re gasping when the very outer edges of your panties rub up against something so hard, and rotund. Feeling the wet squelch of his angry tip gush out in a dripping wet wave at the friction. “A-are you sure?” you’re stammering, trying to hold back the way your greedy thighs were trying to rub together. Only achieving heavy, languid gyrations on top of the rock-hard outline of Gojo’s cock. “How about tomorrow? When you’re feeling better?”

It’s a slow, steady rhythm. There’s a ringing schwf! schwf! schwf! of sopping wet fabric, and it was driving him crazy. 

“Right now please- haaa-” Gojo’s tongue lolls out so sluttily to graze against your own, dazed blue irises rolling to the back of his head. His spine curves upwards, abs rippling with a harsh drag of your clothed pussy down his weepy shaft. “Whenever you’d have me.”

Almost tentatively, your hips roll forward. That flimsy excuse of your panties bunching up with each grazing rub, it’s all you can do to not just keen at the utterly delicious curve of his thick girth. Throbbing and twitchy under each of your motions. 

He’s hissing when your underwear snags on the very divot at his thick head, sitting up on two elbows, “S-sweetheart.”

“No, Toru.” your palms are back on his pecs, easily pinning the strongest down with a gentle push of your own. “Jus’ let me do all the work, m’kay?”

Gojo wasn’t all too happy - and the sullen pout jutting on his spit-glossed lips told you more than enough. But he wasn’t going down without a fight - that was for sure. 

“F-fine.” he grunts at a particularly harsh grind of your hips. Fuck, he felt like some animal, humping up into you like he was out of control. He could practically feel your puffed-up pussy lips through his pants, he could almost taste it. Two rough hands come to rest on your hips, grabbing and kneading a handful of your ass. “But then you’re not just hah- sitting there, pretty.” 

And, shit, even like this, you should’ve known better than to underestimate Gojo Satoru himself. Because whatever he wanted, he got. The one thing he didn’t was you - and now, since he had you, too, fuck- he might just be going insane. 

Not a moment’s wasted before you’re being so easily hauled up, up, up the entire expanse of Gojo’s body. Jittery body being balanced easily as if you were some type of toy, up from the slender curve of his toned hips, up around where his broad deltoids were spread, all the way until your cunt was hovering over his needy mouth. “Can’t believe I hngh- almost died without havin’ a taste of this pretty pussy.”

“Toru.”

“Sweetheart.” he mocks.

You shiver with each feverish puff of hot breath blown right onto your clothed cunt. And even more so when you’re feeling such a long, slender finger slide in through the translucent fabric. 

Fuck, Gojo swallows thickly, bunching up your skirt. You were so sopping wet he could almost see the outline of his index through your panties. He slides the back of it slowly up and down. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the volume of your saturated slick collecting on his digit, just trailing glossily down to his deft wrist. 

Mesmerized, your jaw falls slack at the sight down below of Gojo - cloudy hair mussed, cheeks all pink and burning a blushing rouge, tongue darting out to catch each stray drop of your sweet sweet juices. Drip! Drip! Drip! 

“Oh- sh-shiiit-” he rasps, lowly, mulling over your honeyed taste. Sounding so awed, breath hitching when Gojo tugs your panties just enough to the side to catch a mere glimpse of your messy cunt. Glistening and winking down lewdly at him. “S’jus’ you n’ me right now, huh?”

You don’t know who exactly he’s talking to - and you don’t get to find out, because that’s all it takes for Gojo’s kiss-bitten lips to clash messily against your cunt - panties and all. 

A soft swipe of his tongue glides the fabric to the side, so depraved, so needy that for that split-second he’s tasting you, he can’t even think of removing it. One taste of your sweetened pussy and he can’t even bear the thought of breaking apart, licking up in long, languid stripes that wet the very front of your swollen folds. 

Just the taste of you had him palming desperately at the tent in his pants, rubbing up and down at a pace that matched his rummaging tongue.

The very edge of your tastebuds rub so deliciously in teasing circles around the corners of your dripping silt, your inner thighs. 

“S-s’toru-” you’re letting out such throaty, dragged-out groans that send every drop of blood in Gojo’s body thumping to his achy cock. “Don’t be such a- a tease.”

You’re locking your glassy eyes with him and he feels like he could pass out. Groaning and smacking into your cunt, “Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- tell me what you want, sweetheart. Anything.” Your entire body arches into his hot mouth like such a slut, when he bullies between your folds. Barely flicking against the sensitive nub of your clit. “Everything. Anything for you.”  

When you’re weaving your fingers deliriously through his silky soft strands, he babbles, “Oh fuck- yeah, pull on my hair.” One of his hands come down to grip onto your panties, pulling the fabric so that you revel in the filthy friction. “Use me while you ride m’face, okay?”

With that, his mouth is sagging open even further letting your thighs straddle the entirety of his face so easily. So close. So messy how he was carding his tongue from the very base of your pussy, up into your quivering entrance.

“Fuck–” you’re whining, grinding into his touch when he wraps his soft lips around your clit. Barely even easing you with syrupy, wet circles of his heated tongue before sucking. Harsh. Depraved. But so, so him. “Don’- don’ stop, feels too good–!”

You didn’t know if he heard you, fuck you didn’t even know if Gojo was even breathing. 

Even if he wanted to stop - he didn’t think he could. Because he was so ravenous between your legs, forcing your pliant body into such smooth gyrations on his tongue. Silken, soft, such sultry licks of his tongue on your clit. 

Electricity sparks behind your eyes when with a wet slurp! he smacks away from your pretty pussy, “You think- you think I can stop?” And he sounds so genuinely in disbelief, as if the very thought of it was appalling. Through heavy, lingering kisses and sucks onto your clit, Gojo’s managing to get out, “I can’t have enough. Fuck- please.” The very rounded pads of his fingers dig so bruisingly into the flesh of your ass, jiggling and kneading with every drag of your hips. He’s begging at this point, “Fuck yourself on my face. Rougher, faster, c’mon now. You can do it, my sweetheart.” 

He was so fucking desperate, big fat tears almost welling in his eyes while he whined underneath you. Groping so obscenely at his sweltering hot erection. How could you not listen?

“If you say so.”

Using the vice-like grip on his locks, you’re managing to leverage your motions even deeper. Rougher, like he’d wanted. Every protesting creak of the bedpost was accompanied by a synchronized whimpering of ah! ah! ah! coming from both your mouths. 

“S’it good?” he gasps, and all you could see was the flushed upper half of his features. And the lower half - fuck, though the peaks and cracks you could make out just how glisteningly wet it was with all of your messy cunt. His lips were just drenched, slick-soaked mouth making out harshly with your pussy through your panties. Trailing all the way down in a glossy sheen over the lower half of his face, dripping off his chin, fuck- up to his cheekbones- 

As if that wasn’t enough, the massive palm resting at your thigh comes dancing down to tease around your sopping wet entrance. 

If you were in the right state of mind, you could’ve sworn that you heard a sharp rip! coming from that poor tattered fabric of your underwear right then and there. 

“Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- use that pretty voice of yours please.” Still suckling lewdly on your clit, his cheeks hollow out . Entire body just jolting upwards, forcing you to press down harder with your motions. “Use me. Use me.”

“S-so–” you mewl when his slender fingers bully easily past that first ring of muscle. So many cold inches of his digits, feeling around determinedly inside your heated, gummy walls for those sweet spots that will make you whine. “So loud, Toru-” you’re spitting, meshing his mouth even harder with yours down below. And you can practically feel him smirk against your cunt. “For someone that wants this s-so hngh! bad you sure are-”

There.

Right there.

Gojo Satoru had just crashed into the spongy cavern of your g-spot - easily, at that. And there was such a crazed, sloppy sting to each of his movements. Smashing in over and over-

“Heh…tha’s how I l-like it.” he’s spying up at your trembly thighs, the way his overworked lips were being coated with a fresh wave of our honeyed slick with each passing second. “Good girl- gooood fuckin’ girl–” 

Hazily, you’re wondering whether it doesn’t hurt. Whether his weepy cock ached just as badly as it looked, how his tongue isn’t fucking cramping up by now. 

But he goes on - like he couldn’t stop, like he was out of control. A greedy little push and pull, dragging his tongue all over until you saw flashes of white. Until you could only scream out his name like a mantra. Until you were cumming. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck- Toru!” your slurring out a mile a minute. Both of your hands now steadfast on his head, riding out your high all over Gojo’s pretty, pretty face. And he let you - fuck, he let you. “M’cumming- shit, feel so good. M’cumming-”

So good, so filthy that it made your toes curl, your hips stutter sloppily. Arching like such a slut, you could barely even see properly. Your breath was coming out in such labored heaves at this point, and Gojo wasn’t any better. 

It was like he couldn’t stop, happily drinking up every single, sticky drop your cunt had to offer. Pussydrunken eyes drooping shut, unable to let out anything but satisfied grunts. The muscle of his tongue is just frenzied in eager slips and slides along your cunt - absolutely no rhythm or method right now. Sucking, licking, biting anywhere he could possibly reach. 

“F-fuck–” you’re crying out tearily once the very peak of your orgasm fades, and all that’s left are a few overstimulated tingles being wrenched out by a greedy Gojo. “Toru, m’done.” You tug desperately on his hair - but even that doesn’t bate him the slightest bit. “S’getting too much- fuck-”

“Awww, too much for my girl?” he’s cooing, the words jumbling together in his drunken state. There’s a glossy mess of spit and slick drooling down the corners of his smirk. “Does this cute cunt of yours need a break?”

At your barely-lucid nod, it only grows wider. Smugger. “Too bad-” And Gojo’s just taunting you with a final, long lick up the very core of your pussy, “Because if I almost hah- died without her once, then you best believe m’gonna c-crawl back from death for ya each and every single time.”

It takes his strong arms - even bruised and battered through battle - only two whole seconds to plop you back down prettily onto his lap. Right over where his angry cock was just weeping for attention. And suddenly, it hurts without you. “So you’re not getting a break anytime soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Ha ha.” You’re rolling your eyes, “Very funny.”

“Mhm.” Gojo looks up at you through his white lashes, and you can only watch when he brings up his syrupy-sweet, glossy fingers up to his mouth. One by one. Sucking. Slowly, looking right into your eyes. It makes your mouth just salivate. “Got that right.”

The sheets billow behind you when you’re fumbling deftly with his shirt, all but ripping - tearing that stupid thing off of his form. Your skirt and top are soon to follow - his jaw clenches with the slight strain, leaving it in poor tatters on the floor.

“Shit- shit you’ve been-” his mouth just waters when your tits are released from your bra. Jiggling tantalizingly in his face in a way that makes him bury into it. “-been holding out on me.”

“Oh-” you let out, traitorously, at the first sight of each curve and divot along his milky sculpted body. Gojo Satoru was serious about dressing up like Toji, and no matter how much his t-shirt looked so sinfully painted on - actually seeing it was something else. “You’re so pretty, Toru.” You smooth your palms down his large shoulders, the faint scars between his pecs, his abs - that scar. Stark and large, Shoko had done her best work, but it still looked so painful. It must feel so, too, being sewn back together like some ragdoll. He catches the way your expression dampers - of course, he does. “Toru…”

Gojo winces when your fingers glide over that jagged scar. But if that was pain, then it was absolutely nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated fear when you abruptly pull your hands away. 

“S-sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“No!” he cuts you off, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. All but dragging it - right along with you - to his still-healing body. “Touch me. Hurts more when you don’t.”

You’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes his heart stutter, and his poor, angry cock twitch. “Hurts me when you lie.”

“M’not lying, see?” With a low nod of his head, he’s gesturing you to look down - where it was unmissable. 

Because straddled right in-between your pussy lips was Gojo’s erect cock - proud and so prominent, even through his pants. With the sheer girth bulging upwards you could feel your greedy pussy dampen over the cloth in anticipation. 

“Well…” He’s throwing his head back when you knead your palm over the very end of his print, “I can’t quite see-”

Gojo takes the hint - and you have to bite your lip from teasing that it was quite possibly the only hint you’d thrown his way that he’d actually understood. But it was so hard to - not when he was this eager. 

And, on those long, lonely nights, you’d imagined that your best friend would be suave, infinitely collected with things like this. 

But, no, he was fumbling and jittery with his movements. So needy to please you that it takes you to help him pull down his tight, sticky boxers over the curving muscle of his thighs. 

“O-oh fuck–” you breathe out, when he finally springs out. Sweeping up and down each and every long, thick inch of him - Gojo was as hard as if he was carved out of fucking diamond. Such a furious, rosy red at his leaky tip, glistening down, down, down into the most mouth-watering shade of creamy pink at his thick hilt. He was so big. Your thighs squeeze together in sultry need - with a slight tinge of fear. So unfairly pretty - even like this. “You’re- you’re so much bigger than I’d imagined, Toru.” 

No sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re being flashed with his dark smirk once more, “You imagined this?” There’s a slight reverence to his voice, scared. 

It almost makes you shy - and Gojo can practically sense the waves of embarrassment rolling off of you. 

“Awww, come back to me, please, pretty- Please-” he purrs, cupping your cheeks. “I came hah- back, didn’t I?” You’re being jostled to and fro when he rests himself more comfortably on the bed, leaning back to admire you further. “And now-” Your breath hitches in your throat when he situates himself right in-between your thighs, the fat curve of his head so swelteringly kissing your folds. Drenching it in his thick precum, “-now m’never gonna let ya go.” 

Fuck, you know you should heave in a few gasps of hair, you know you should relax, maybe even stretch your legs wide open.

Because Gojo was so fucking big, it felt like he was splitting you from the inside out. Just the slight push of his tip bullying between your folds has you moaning - crying.  

“You- you’re so big-” Your nails dig into the plush of his pecs for stability, leaving neat crescent patterns that stand out redly. “S’like you’re reaching into my hngh- l-lungs-”

Just those words have him expanding even deeper, ruddying even more furiously. Gojo gets so much bigger that you just can’t help but sink yourself down his shaft, feeling your elastic walls contort so easily around his length. 

“H-heh– ohhh-” he breathes out - baritone voice lilting a few pitches higher than usual. The hands around your waist grab you even harsher, feeding you each inch by fucking inch of his fat, pulsing cock. “You got me- so–” His hips thrust upwards in mindless little jabs, “-fucked up, right now, sweetheart.”

And while all you can do is whine and moan around his unforgiving cock, Gojo babbles on, “B-better get ready ngh- because I’m gonna be riiiight-” His thick index draws and invisible line up, up, up to somewhere midway up your stomach. Before pressing down. Brandingly. “-here.”

The pressure is enough to have your hips just slamming down with a wet smack! all the way to his hilt. The slap of skin-on-skin rings through the heady air and into both your drunken brains, making him just throw his head back into the plush pillows. 

“Yes-” you’re keening, your fingers wrapping subconsciously around Gojo’s pretty throat to have him facing you once more. He was so gorgeous this way - blue eyes falling shut with pleasure, mouth bitten raw and parted into a soft oh! pale muscles twitching with each breath. So fucked-out already that it almost made you think the sight alone could have you cumming. “Look at me, Toru- hah- gonna make up for lost time, right? Gonna fuck me good?”

His answering nods are more than enough, but Gojo doesn’t just stop there - no, he’s putting in every bit of last strength he has to just hammer into you upwards. Meeting every one of your relentless bounces down on him, he just clashes into your ravaged g-spot.

“Oh yeah, my girl.” he spits, a twinkling trail of drool dripping down the side of his lips. Crushing you so tight to his hardened front, “Ride me- ride me jus’ like that. Fuck- thought I saw heaven on the battlefield but it might jus’ be this pussy-” Over and over.

The back of your hand ends up on his forehead, “I think you’ve got a concussion.” It was in every little touch - that “something stupid.”  

At your surprised giggles, he’s rummaging your insides even more ferociously. Smushing the very end of his thick head against your spongy cervix. It was so soft, so swelteringly hot having him inside you. Clashing in long, wet glides against every inch of your pussy. 

The stretch was dizzying - and if it hadn’t been for Gojo’s lips attacking yours, then you’d have let your head loll backwards. It’s like he was marking you from the inside out, bruising the plushy insides of your cunt to every ridge and thumping vein down his possessive cock. 

“Spit on me.” 

His sudden plea puffs out of his plump lips, startling you out of your cockdrunk little reverie. “Spit on me, please, pretty. Mmpf-”

Gojo whimpers - whimpers - when the thick wad of your saliva hits his pink tongue, and the action has him delving into you impossibly deeper. Planting two feet onto the mattress, he angles his hips into your tight channel even harsher. Grimacing at the slight twinge of pain, “Shit-”

“Toru–”

“Wait wait- please- let me-” Expectedly, he’s cutting you off frantically. Begging, pleading with everything he had before activating reversed curse technique more. “Wanna fuck this gorgeous cunt so bad- fuck fuck fuck-”

But you’re only grinding your hips down faster - all the way from the pretty pink tip of his cock, until your ass massages against his tight, cum-filled balls. Thwacking! against your skin deliciously, pushing you up to scratch your clit against his snowy pubes. 

A few more unapologetic kisses up against your sweet spots have you blinking back stars, “Toru–” Your swiveling motions have him so hypnotized, following every move where his massive cock was disappearing in and out of your snug hole. “Kiss me-”

Oh, you didn’t even have to ask.

It’s such a sloppy kiss - all teeth and lips and Gojo grunting gutturally into your mouth. Letting you just use him like your favorite toy, fucking him until the bed creaked with effort and Gojo’s balls just smacked! angrily.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers. Drinking in your saccharine sweet gasps when he dips down one of his hands to your puffy clit, rolling the soft edge of his thumb in slow, methodical circles. “You’re gonna be the ah- d-death of me.”

Your hand around his throat tightens, making his eyes just roll back in ecstacy. “Better not die on me just y-yet, Toru. Not now, not tomorrow.”

For this, you’re being gifted with such a tight squeeze of his two fingers around your sensitive nub. Wracking your body forwards - exactly where he wanted you, exactly where he needed you to smash his sobbing tip into your g-spot. 

The stimulation is too much, and each of your pressurized slams down onto the sharp bones on Gojo’s v-line have him moaning. Bucking up helplessly whenever your heavenly walls drag sloppily up his shaft, like it hurt to not have each and every one of his heated inches buried inside. 

“Well- then-” You’re riding him now just as much as he was fucking up into you, leaving a damp puddle of slick and dredges of precum on the sheets below. Gojo’s punctuating each word with a harsh battering ram, “Better- cum f’me soon, huh? Because m’not gonna- fuck-” His nagging tip jolts into your sweet spots as if being zapped with white-hot electricity, in such a sloppy staccato with his feverish fingers. “-fuck I don’t think m’gonna last long.”

You’re nodding your head, clinging onto him like a second skin. “Mhm- m’so close, Toru.” Biting down wetly on his lower lip, “-gonna cum soon.”

Just the thought of it has him keening, stuttering up so messily. His precum coats your insides even more slippery slick, so heated in a way he thinks he might just explode. 

“I know, I know, sweetheart–” he’s simpering down in your tone, though his hips were anything but. Letting out some of the lewdest slurps that made your ears ring. “I got you. I got you, cum all over my cock, yeah?”

It only takes a few more mess strokes from both of your sweat-sheened bodies before you finally reach your high. Electricity thrums down your veins, your body arches so deeply into his. Bending into the perfect bow that has him spying down at your quivering folds, the way your gushing cunt expands and contracts through each and every one of your waves of pleasure. 

And he’s fucking you through it so filthy, fingers toying so erratically on your clit. Still reeling, still smashing the very divot of his cock into your bruised g-spot. Again and again.

“Ohh- fuuuck—” Gojo whines, eyes scrunching shut. Strained. Depraved. “Fuck fuck fuck me- please, please m’gonna-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before he’s stuffing your snug pussy full with ribbon after ribbon of thick, velvety cum. Potent seed coating your gummy walls in such a milky sweet gloss, the squelches from below are so loud. So soppingly wet. 

The hand at your waist moves down to where your poor cunt was just bulging with all inches of his spazzing cock. Gojo’s thumbing apart the corners of your slit just enough that his swelteringly hot cum oozes out of you in a slow trail. Sinful. 

“Oh my god-” he breathes, eyes unwavering. Hips thrusting upwards to push his cum up into you even deeper. It glistens opaquely down his length, forming a creamy ring at his thick base. “Oh my god love you- fuck!”

“Toru- m’so full-” you whine. A hand of yours coming up to press exactly where he had before, except now you could feel the nudging pace of his ruthless cock, the sloshing of Gojo’s seed all up inside you. “-really can feel you right here.”

“Tha’s the point, girl - my girl, should I say.” he’s pressing such a chaste kiss to your lips. And it would be swee - almost - if it wasn’t for the way Gojo’s greedy fingers soak themselves in the obscene mess from your cunt down below. Bringing them all the way up, up, up to his mouth. Suckling gently, “But…but you wanna hear something stupid?”

Your eyes widen, “Wh-what?”

And he only grins,  “I hope you know I love you, sweetheart. Because you sure as hell aren’t walking tomorrow.”

A/N. Can y’all tell I’ve been widowed not too long ago? Anyways, last post before kínktober! I tried posting this on Sunday but it refused to work so pray for me this time y’all *SOBS* <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[peachsukii]

Thinking about reader and fiancée!Bakugo prepping for their wedding when the important question of ‘who’s walking you down the aisle?’ comes up during a planning consultation.

“I’m still figuring it out,” you say to the planner nonchalantly. She nods, notating the response before continuing through the meeting per usual. Later that night, Bakugo decides to carefully bring the topic back up.

“I know it’s not easy, but do you wanna talk about earlier?” He asks gently, taking your hand in his. “Might wanna figure it out before the big day sneaks up on us.”

You know he’s right…but who the hell takes that place?

“I don’t know who to ask,” you whisper, somewhat talking to yourself rather than to him. “I don’t have any siblings and I’m not close with any other family members like that. I could ask Eiji or Izuku, but they’re already apart of our day in a big way. I don’t want them to feel pressured.”

“Why not?” Bakugo questions, moving his free hand to your shoulder. “Those idiots love you, peach. ‘Course they’d say yes if ya asked.”

“I know. But—”

“It’s not the same, I get it.”

There’s a brief silence before Bakugo’s eyes light up, an idea blossoming in his mind. “What about my dad?”

You give him a blank stare. “Huh?”

He tilts his head with a smile. “He loves ya like a daughter already, sweetheart.”

The thought lingers for a moment before the emotions catch up, a lump forming in your throat. Ever since you and Bakugo started dating, his family has been nothing but warm and welcoming to you. Mitsuki joked constantly that you were the daughter she wished she had for years, and Masaru struck up conversation with you at every dinner, his interest in you never feeling forced or fake.

Fidgeting a bit, you finally gather yourself enough to speak. “Would it be weird if I asked your mom instead?”

Bakugo laughs, but not at you, more-so in agreement. “Not at all. Think you can handle her? ‘Cause she will be a mess.”

That makes you giggle, the invisible pressure lifting from your shoulders and a sense of calm washing over you.

“If I can handle you, Mitsuki is nothing.”

[adelheidvonschicksal]

The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩

Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.

“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.

There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.

“I wanted to finish this report for work.”

“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”

Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”

“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”

“Ruined?”

“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”

Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”

His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.

“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”

“That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.

“It is.”

“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.

“Yes.”

Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.

“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.

“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”

“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.”

Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.

“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”

“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.

“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”

It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.

“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.

“Huh?”

“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.

“And Serotonin.”

Another kiss, lower.

“Oxytocin.”

He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.

“Reduced cortisol.”

Flustered, you grip his arms.

“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.

His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,

“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”

You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”

Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”

And by those things, you mean his dramatics.

“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”

Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”

He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”

Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.

“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”

“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”

Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.

Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”

“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”

Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[gumified]

PRICE TO PAY

pairing: god!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary: you had prayed and prayed for the drought to finally end, for the village to finally be granted rain, so when meeting one of the gods you strike a deal and pay the price.

content: 4.4k, smut, pwp, big dick!gojo, virgin!reader, praise, degradation, dirty talk, cunnilingus (fem. receiving), ice play, bondage, gagging, fingering, squirting, orgasm control, overstimulation, public but also not public sex

note: have fun :D

The heat beat down on your face as you walked up the hill, buckets of water straining your shoulders. Your throat was parched and you were drenched in sweat. You were so thirsty it was unbearable. It had been months since the last rain and the nearest stream was miles away. Your village had long since lost hope, abandoning their faith in the gods. But not you. You knew they were up there. You believed they would help.

While everyone else assumed the drought would eventually end, as it had before, you couldn’t wait. Your brother was so young; he might not survive much longer. Water was life and without it survival was impossible.

“Hey, Ren.” You forced a smile for your brother. His face was flushed, and his clothes were tattered. “Come on, you need to drink this.”

Ren coughed, struggling to sit up. “Y/n, you’re back.”

“Yeah.” You brought the bowl closer to his lips, urging him to drink. He sipped weakly. “How have you been feeling?”

“I feel really hot.” You felt his forehead and sighed when you felt it even warmer than before. The fever he had was burning through his body. Ren wrapped his arms around your waist, clinging on you tightly. “Y/n you won’t leave me will you? Not like mum and dad.”

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, you felt your heart break a little. “Of course I won’t leave you. You’re gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life, promise.” He grinned, giggling. There’s a small bit of you that wished that this would end soon but you knew better. 

“I love you Y/n.” Ren mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you too Ren.” 

You were shaken awake and you nearly screamed when you caught sight of a beautiful face in front of you. His jaw was perfectly chiselled and his lips were plump, kissable almost. You felt your cheeks flushed. His eyes were what captured you most of all. Sapphire swirls painted his eyes, you felt yourself being pulled towards him. 

“You mortals really do sleep like - what’s the saying? Oh yes - like the dead.” His sneer transformed his handsome features into something far more menacing. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to spend the night at a temple?”

“I-I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep by accident.” You tried to move away but it was like an invisible force was keeping you from moving your limbs. He smirked, crawling closer to you so that you were inches apart. “W-Who are you?”

“Little mortal doesn’t know who I am.” His tongue flicked over his lips. “You’re in my temple, little one.”

"Y-Your temple…" The cogs in your brain turned and you let out a frightened gasp. "Y-You're a God."  

He grinned, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Smarter than you look. It's Y/n isn't it?" Words failed you and you felt your throat grow dry. He twisted a strand of your hair around his finger. "You've been praying for a heavy rain season for weeks. How could I not remember your name." 

"Does that mean you'll help me?" 

"I'm afraid the weather is in my brother's domain. I control the oceans, mortal." 

"I know who you are, Satoru Gojo, God of the oceans and earthquakes. Your brother controls the sky and its weather." You said meekly, feeling your cheeks burn at how close he was. The tapestries had always depicted him as a handsome man with bulging muscles. But something about seeing him in real life had you so enamoured. 

Satoru smirked, the blue in his eyes growing even brighter. His body glowed with a soft, golden aura. You gulped, unable to meet his gaze. "And yet you knew that, but still came to pray to me every day, making sacrifices as well."

"W-Well they say you're the most generous s-so I thought…"

"You thought I would help you?" Satoru cocked his head to the side. "Don't you know everything comes with a price?" 

"And I'm willing to pay that price." 

A silent pause passed between the two of you before a smirk crept up on Satoru’s face. You noticed his eyes grow darker, the bright pigment transformed into a much more seductive hue.

“My, my, little mortal’s brave.” You felt his eyes trailing over your body and you felt like you’re being hunted. “So you’ll do anything?” His fingers brushed over your thigh teasingly. You nodded. 

A wicked grin spread across his face. You squeaked in surprise when his mouth collided onto yours. The intoxicating scent of the ocean filled your senses and your eyes fluttered shut. Satoru’s lips moved ferociously against yours, it made you feel dizzy yet they tasted sweet at the same time. You could taste the sugary taste of leftover ambrosia as he delved into your wet cavern, tongue exploring each and every crevice. 

Your arms remained by your side, unsure of what to do. But when Satoru tugged you forward, they wrapped around him tightly, and you felt him smirk. Your hands wandered over his rippling muscles, trying to carve the feeling into your memory. He bit down on your bottom lip, drawing the slightest bit of blood.

The taste of your own blood mingled with the sweetness of ambrosia, created a heady mixture that made you gasp. Satoru pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Everything comes with a price, little one." He murmured, his voice a velvety whisper. "Are you sure you're willing to pay it?"

You nodded, breathless and trembling. "Anything, just please help us."

Satoru's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "Very well, mortal. But remember, once a deal is struck with a god, there's no going back."

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "You'll belong to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Body and soul."

You felt yourself growing hot as he ravaged your mouth, a soft growl emitting from his throat. You weren’t familiar with his actions, you had never been bedded, too busy tending to your sick brother. The people had called you many names but you didn't care. But now, with your minimal experience, you were nervous, scared even at the thought of a God deflowering you. Nevertheless, you started to grow wet, your pussy started to stick to the thin piece of cloth that covered you. 

Satoru pulled away yet again, a single strand of salvia connected the both of you as he awaited your answer. You panted, out of breath and slightly intoxicated from just the sense of him. 

“Do you accept?” His voice was deep and sultry, something about him was so deliciously seductive that you couldn't help the way your thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

"I accept." 

Satoru's eyes flashed with satisfaction. "Good. Then let our pact be sealed." He captured your lips again, this time more possessively, his hands roaming your body with a newfound intensity. You let out a moan as his tongue slithered back into your mouth. 

He sunk two fingers into your folds making you whimper at the stretch. Your hands gripped his biceps, nails digging down. Satoru licked his lips, continuing to pump into you, gradually increasing the pace. The lewd noises that filled your ears made a blush rise to your cheeks. Never in your life have you felt so dirty, so shameless.

"You're dripping, my sweet. Who would've thought you'd be this turned on." His tone was laced with unmistakable lust and hunger. "Been watching you for so long. Couldn't wait any longer to be inside you." He growled, fucking into you faster, drawing louder moans out of you. 

"S-Satoru…" You gasped as he plunged another digit into you, manoeuvring his fingers so he hit all the right spots. "I-I…"

He stared at your core, your juices all over. For a second he slowed down, giving you a chance to breathe and relax before he picked up the pace. Curling his fingers, touching your sweet sensitive spots in your velvet walls. His thumb rubbed your clit, playing with your sensitive nub. A tight hot rope seemed to wrap around your stomach as Satoru continued to fuck you harder. He smirked as your walls squeezed his fingers. You let out a gasp when he touches a particular spot within you. 

"Close my sweet?" He whispered, lips brushing against your ear and it sent you closer to your high. All you could do is nod fervently, the twisting feeling wrapping around your stomach tightened. You mewled as he fucked you faster, adding another digit. “You can’t cum just yet, got to make sure you’re ready for my cock.” He hummed.

You clenched around his fingers once more, tears pricked your eyes as you threw your head back at the pleasure you were receiving. Satoru surged forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He swallowed your moans and whimpers. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving soft open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Your noises were like music to his ears as he drank in every moan, whimper, mewl - the breathy gasps and the lewd pants. 

“You know my sweet, there’s something that I love about being a God.” 

You gazed at him through your lashes, his lips curling up into a devilish smirk. An ice cube appeared in his hand. You weren’t sure what to think until he slid it up and down your hot wet folds, then you were gasping at the coldness that hit your core. There was a rush of newfound delight that filled you up and you were rutting your hips, asking for more.

Satoru simply grinned, pushing the cube of ice further inside you watching your reactions bloom in front of him. His fingers were dripping with both water and your arousal. You let out a soft hiss when the ice cube is pressed harder into you. The coldness contrasted with the warmness of your needy walls. It spiked through your body as it made your blood rise and your head became light at the overwhelming feeling. You were clutching onto Satoru with so much force that it would hurt him but he didn’t care, not when he was in the midst of unravelling you.

“Let’s see how many you can hold.” It shocked you into a frenzy when you felt another ice cube get pushed inside you, the last one still slowly melting. 

“Mmmph. Too much, ngh, feels weird, ‘s too much.” Your mind seemed to explode as you babbled incoherently. “F-fuckkk ‘toru it’s cold a-and-“

You were unable to finish your sentence as Satoru reached out his hands to pinch your clit causing you to jolt forward at the sudden gesture. You felt a rush as you gazed up at him. watching his smirk grow as he looked at your sopping pussy. 

“You’re so beautiful!” He teased your folds, rubbing against them harsher. “Take more for me okay? You’re such a good girl, my sweet, keep that dirty pussy dripping as I stuff you, okay?” Satoru’s lips brushed your ear. “Then I’ll let you cum.”

You felt yourself spiralling into euphoria when he slid his finger down your pussy. His tongue flicked over his lips as he admired your fucked out face. Morals left your body and you let your urges take over. All reason and thought left you as you were reduced to a whining needy mess. Your pussy clenched pathetically around the ice cubes, the cold still surprising you. Satoru did nothing but coo at you, tucking strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“Come on my sweet.” He urged. “You're doing so well. This pussy is so pretty, she’s just so gorgeous, fuckkk, wish you could see her.”

“A-Ah, ‘toru good f-feels so g-good.” 

You were writhing beneath his grip, a feeling of overwhelming pleasure surged through you as he continued his actions. Your pussy constricted around his fingers and you felt something grow within you. Your nerves and senses were heightened as you felt his fingers nudge at your swollen clit. 

“I-I feel somethingg, ngh, f-feels weird like I’m gonna burst-” You gasped out, unable to keep the noises within you.

“Awwww.” Satoru’s tone was mocking as he watched your tiny frame twist and turn under his grip. A wicked grin spread across his face. “You’re close, my sweet, beg to cum and maybe I’ll be nice enough to let you.” 

It was almost painful but the pleasure was so uncontrollable that it overtook any pain you felt. Satoru slid another freezing ice cube into you, making you scream. Your mind was dizzy and you could only feel yourself getting stretched repeatedly with the cold object. Your pussy walls were both cold and hot, the mixture that Satoru had concocted dripping from them. Sweat covered your body, glistening as the sun shone down. You felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, so desperate for an unknown pleasure to come to your saviour.

“S-Satoru...cum, p-please. W-Wanna cum…” You stuttered helplessly, silently shrieking at the contrast of temperatures.

“More, beg more.”

You screamed at the feeling as his fingers thrusted in you making your head light as you desperately gripped onto his shoulders, clawing at some sort of way to tether you to the present. His words were laced with seduction as he continued to tease you.

“C-Cum cum cum, please pleaseee, needa cum so b-bad ‘toru fuckkk! P-Please let me cum, ‘s too much need it s-so bad, please please please!”

Satoru laughed as he buried his head in your neck, placing kisses on the empty space. He loved your desperate pleas, the breathy moans that would fill the gaps and the tears that followed as you begged him for something you had never experienced before.

“You’ve been such a good girl.” He purred, his deep voice making you clench around him. “And good girls deserve to cum. Go on my sweet, let it all out on my fingers, make a mess of this pussy.” 

You felt a wave of ecstasy rush over you as he pressed his fingers down, biting into your neck. Your body shook at the sensation that overcame you. You rocked against Satoru as you felt your pussy squeeze and constrict. A newfound feeling gushed from within you and you felt yourself scream at the pleasure. Your mind was reduced to filth as you moaned, the ringlets of your release jolting through your body. Satoru groaned at the way your cum coated his fingers and he stared at your desperate cunt, watching the aftermath of the mess you had just created. You didn’t know what to think, your mind cloudy and confused. 

“You fucking squirted, dirty fucking girl.” His eyes were transfixed and suddenly you felt embarrassed at the wetness between your thighs. He reached his hands out forcing you to stay open for him, exposing your most private part for him to ogle at. “Who knew this cute little pussy was capable of such filthy things. You’re just a whore in disguise aren’t you?”

Your pathetic mewls convinced him of nothing. Satoru stared in wonder at your pussy, watching as you clenched around nothing. He slid his fingers in his mouth, tasting every bit of you. A low moan was heard before he dived down licking up your mess. Still sensitive, you cried in shock, threading your hands through his hair. He sucked harshly at your sensitive bud, lapping at your juices. The feeling made tears bleed from your eyes and you tug on his wispy locks. 

“Like it, my sweet?” His voice sent tingles down your spine and you held back the urge to scream. “Can’t hear you?”

“L-Like it so much ‘toru…” You let out a shaky breath, beads of your tears clinging onto your lashes. “P-Please…”

He lapped at your cunt greedily, swallowing every single drop. Your arousal dripped from his chin with a mixture of his salvia. His ears were blessed at the loud squelch that would emit from between your legs. Everything was so messy but he didn’t care as he continued to play with your pretty cunt. You could only whine and quiver at the feeling. Your legs shook, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Blissful thoughts whizzed by as he kept you locked in an euphoric sensation. You struggled to not cry out and sob when white dots blurred your vision. 

Satoru flicked his tongue against your engorged clit, plunging the wet muscle inside. His mouth was hot and you felt his tongue circle your swollen clit messily while you stuttered out pleading moans. He pried open your thighs, desperate to access deeper into the precious new heaven he had discovered. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head at the overstimulation, finding it hard to focus on anything as your senses overloaded. Your mouth hung open as sweet whines constantly fell from your lips. All you could do was lie there letting Satoru ravage your pussy like a man dying of thirst.

“C-Close, close so so so close!” You gasped when you felt him release with a pop before diving back down to continue to suck. “Too much, ‘toru ‘s too much, feels t-too goodddd…”

It wasn’t long before you were cumming again. Another round of your wet arousal coating his face and he licked it clean. You were drooling now, salvia running down your chin as you felt the tears run down your face. It was too much and you feel yourself fall into a new world of pure pleasure. You could feel Satoru’s lustful grin against you as he sucked your pussy. Your thighs shook, chest heaving up and down. Despite the fact you had just released it never stopped the god from indulging you in his carnal desire.

"Sweet little Y/n." He cooed as his thumb ghosted circles around your puffy clit. “Think you’re ready for my cock?” 

It was a question that didn’t need an answer but you still nodded your head lifelessly. Your body was limp in his grip and you struggled to hold yourself up, relying only on him. Satoru smirked from above you, pushing you down on the marble floor. His hands were big and warm and the simple touch had heat blossoming at your pussy. You barely registered what was happening until you had your hands tied together. A thin golden cord wrapped around your wrists and Satoru bit his lip. You looked so beautiful, so pretty, so submissive. 

“I like you this way my sweet. All tied up and ready to be used.” He frowned and you panicked, scared you had angered him. He snapped his fingers and you found a piece of cloth in your mouth, stopping you from speaking. “That’s better, as much as I love your noises I find this much more appealing.”

Your eyes widened when he reached down to release his cock from its confines. You had never seen something so big and dare you say pretty. Satoru’s cock was red and flushed, pre cum oozing out of the swollen tip, dripping like pearls as they rolled down his fat cock head. You felt yourself drool at the sight and you didn’t think you would want something in your mouth so bad. He grinned smugly at your reaction, knowing you were unable to say anything as you stared transfixed at the sight before you.

“Don’t worry my sweet, I’ll make sure to make you feel so good. I know how much this pussy loves to be filled up.”

The words are dirty yet you couldn’t help but let out a muffled whine as he picked you up. His tip pushed past your folds, nudging into your pussy hole. You shut your eyes letting yourself feel the stretch that he gave you. His cock was so big and every bit of your body felt like it was on fire as he continued to push inside. He paused letting you adjust, whispering into your ear quietly. Filthy praises that only made you drip and mewl. It felt like magic and you whimpered into your gag helplessly. Satoru’s fingers brushed through your hair and he peppered sweet kisses across your face. 

It was like your world had imploded as he thrusted into you. Nothing else mattered as you moaned and squirmed at his touch. Your senses went into overdrive as he quickened his thrusts. He pumped in and out of you. He filled every crevice of your sex. His pace never slowed even as you felt all the energy leave your body. You screamed into the gag when he hit that particular spot that had you keeling. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasped for air through the gag. 

“Fuckkk you’re so tight, such a slutty virgin pussy. Look at how you’re gripping on my cock my sweet, she’s so loud.”

His words only made you keen with desire as you gave in to the carnal temptation that bloomed within you. 

“Mmmmph!” Your moans grew louder with every harsh thrust as his cock touched every part of your gummy walls. “Ah-Ah-Ah! ‘toruuuu!”

Satoru showed no mercy as he pounded into you. Cock plunging in and out of your pussy. Wet noises echoed through the walls of the temple and a small part of you felt bad for doing this, here of all places. It was inappropriate but it felt so good. Too good even. He continued his movements and the binds that once bound you vanished and you assumed that this was a sign that Satoru wanted you to touch him so you obeyed. Your fingers dragged down his back, sure to leave marks. Fingers fluttered from place to place, desperate for something to anchor you.

“You look so beautiful, pussy sucking in my big cock. Such a good girl for me.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Everything he did felt amazing. “Moan for me my sweet, go on let me hear those filthy sounds.” 

You obeyed his command letting the lewd sounds tumble from your lips as you gasped for more. Your hands roamed the vast expanse of his body, the taut muscles that lay under your hands, each touch ignited sparks. His grip on you tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp again. Every brush of his lip, every stroke of his tongue, every bite and nibble was a reminder of his power and you couldn’t help but give in completely. 

The vigor that he fucked you with was compared to no man and you couldn’t help the lustful sounds that escaped your lips as his hips snapped to yours. It made your mind reel with the feeling of pleasure. His hair fell into his eyes and you reached your hands to sweep through his locks. Satoru was so handsome. He was a god after all and you couldn’t help that your heart pounded whenever you looked at him.

You felt your orgasm approach and you clenched your hands around his toned biceps, nails digging into his skin and he hissed. You moaned repeatedly into the gag as your body shook frantically from the pleasure. 

“A-A-Ahhh! ‘toru ‘toru ‘s too much, nghh.” Your body thrashed in his grasp, wriggling and writhing as you felt the immense feeling build up again. Every movement magnified the intensity as you felt the shock ricochet throughout your body. 

“It’s okay my sweet.” Satoru whispered but his thrusts were unrelenting. His fingers brushed against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves as he drew out your orgasm. “It’s okay, let's cum together. Soak my cock Y/n, such a good girl.”

Your juices overflowed and you felt his cum pump into your body, filling you up until you were so so full. Warmth blossomed throughout your body and you felt yourself wringing his cock with every drop of cum. The feeling was incomparable and you gasped for air once he removed the gag with the snap of his fingers. Satoru kissed you, his lips were demanding, moving against yours with raw hunger. The taste of the ocean filled your senses, salty and intoxicating. He pulled out to place a kiss on your thighs, on your pussy. You were so sensitive and you felt his cum as it flowed out of you. He stuffed two fingers in your pussy and you squealed at the sudden gesture. His fingers curled in and out of you before he slapped your core. The sting sent shock waves through your body and you couldn’t help the moan that tumbled out of your lips.

“Keep it in there my sweet, I’ll be visiting again.” His voice was a husky whisper, deep and seductive. 

Then, with those words, he disappeared, leaving you a naked mess on the temple floor. You were breathless and reeling from the pleasure that he had just bestowed upon you. You had just given yourself to a god, one that had just stuffed you so full of his cum. You stared at the place where he had been in shock, your head felt light from all that had just happened. Your legs gave way when you tried to stand up, they were sore and achy, covered in splatters of both of your cum. His smirks and groans filled your senses once again and you felt yourself flush at the memory. 

Satoru Gojo had just introduced a lustful desire that you didn’t think you would be able to forget for a very long time.

You gathered your belongings with shaking hands, urgently attempting to steady yourself as you stood. The wet splashes that painted your body were a stark reminder of what had just happened, and you tried your hardest to conceal them along with your flushed, fucked-out face.

You hobbled your way back to the village, heart pounding in your chest. Every glance from a passerby felt like they could see right through you. The sheer thought that someone would stop to talk to you had you eager to get home unnoticed.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru was watching from Olympus, his eyes never leaving your retreating form. He grinned, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he saw your tiny self hurry home. The memory of your trembling body and flushed cheeks was seared into his mind and he felt his cock harden again at the thought. He knew you were thinking of him, longing for him, and that was exactly what he wanted. When the time was right, he would come for you again, and induce you in a pleasurable haze once more.

[velvrei]

Protective Logan is living rent-free in my mind right now. Some guy trying to talk to you in a bar? BLAM. Logan is right by your side. His husky growl he gives as he has to fight back letting his claws out 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

protective logan scaring off a guy in a bar <3

you and logan, and few of your friends decided to have a fun night out at the club. you were sat at the bar, wade and logan over having a conversation on the couches, probably arguing about something, as you asked the bartender for your next drink.

he brought your drink to you, you gave him a thank you before sipping on it, not noticing the guy that had now sat next to you. definitely wasn’t logan. closer to being logan’s pure opposite than to logan.

he smiled at you, you tried to ignore his presence until he started talking to you. “hi beautiful? what you doing here sitting alone on a saturday night?” his words made you shiver, and you wish you could’ve ignored him, but you didn’t want to cause any trouble, so you just gave him an answer.

“i’m not alone, i’m here with my boyfriend and my friends,” your words didn’t seem to change his intentions at all, matter fact when you turned to him you noticed his smile had grew.

“boyfriend? and what’s he doing leaving a pretty girl like you alone over here by the bar?” you rolled your eyes, about to just walk away from the strange man.

“she’s not alone, and she made that clear.” you didn’t notice logan approaching the two of you, making you slightly smile.

the man noticed logan, who was now stood behind you, his arms around your body. the man laughed, turning to the both of you. “you’re the infamous boyfriend she told me about,” his words made logan growl, you could hear him in your ear and it took everything in you not to giggle.

“yes, i am. why the fuck are you still here?” logan’s words caused the man’s face to change, he looked mad, and you tried to hide your amused smile as you just sat back and watched all of this.

the man swallowed. “i’m just sitting here to get a drink.” his words sounded pathetic in logan’s mind.

“yeah and harassing my woman.” logan said, scoffing, and you felt your heart flutter at him calling you his woman. you’d been his woman for a while but every time he referred to you as his it would still give you buttetflies.

“i didn’t know she was your woman,” the man argued, slamming his drink onto the table.

“still? who gave you the right to go around talking to random women? you don’t know her, leave her the fuck alone.”

the man stood, practically challenging logan. logan loved a good fight, so he stood as well. the man was significantly shorter and scrawnier than logan, which made you almost want to laugh at how unfair of a fight it would be.

“who are you to tell me that?” the man argued, and the two bickered for a while, before logan grabbed the man’s shirt and held him up by it, holding him high and looking deep into his eyes.

“you come by me and my woman again, you’ll get more than just a shove, understand?” logan says, his open hand releasing his claws, as he holds them to the man’s face.

you both watch as the man’s eyes widen, and logan throws him to the ground, and the man just scatters and runs away.

you didn’t notice wade walking up, sitting in the empty stool next to you. “god, he’s sexy when he’s jealous, isn’t he?” making you roll your eyes and laugh in agreement.

“hell yeah he is,” you say, standing up and letting your hands run across logan’s chest, pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

To be perceived: Husband!Nanami x Reader

“I don’t feel good in anything!” Your clothes are strewn around the room, victims of your self-image. Nanami holds up a dress, raising an eyebrow in a silent offer. You shake your head. “That hasn’t fit in years!”

He sits down heavily on the bed, surveying the emptied drawers and your increasingly desperate face. He tries discreetly to check his watch. He’ll call and move the reservations back, no problem.

You take off the latest rejected outfit and sit down helplessly in the middle of the room. “Kento, I’m an ugly slug.” Your husband joins you on the floor, wrapping both arms around you.

“You’re a beautiful slug, dear.”

You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know we’re running late…”

He kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it. I just want you to feel good. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, my love.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be perceived, you know?”

Nanami nods thoughtfully. “I can’t make that happen, but maybe I could help distract people. Make it so you’re not the one they’re staring at.”

You turn to look up at him. “What do you mean? You’re wearing your scheming face…”

“Don’t worry, angel. You just finish getting ready and leave it to me, okay?” He disappears into the bathroom.

In a few minutes, you’re feeling a bit better. You’ve put on a comfortable outfit and done your makeup. Nanami’s voice is muffled from behind the door. “Are you ready, darling?”

“Yes, ready when you are!” You call back.

Your husband emerges from the bathroom, a confident smile on his chiseled face. Your mind short-circuits for a moment, not sure what to focus on first- the shock of blonde hair slipping over one eye, the expertly applied black eyeliner, or the skirt swaying around his muscled thighs. He looks beautiful.

“Kento, what is this?” You squint. “Is that my eyeliner?”

“No, it’s mine,” he says easily. “I’ve had it since high school.”

“And the hair? I’ve never seen you without it gelled up…”

He blushes a little at that. “Also high school.”

You shake your head in disbelief, your heart racing at the unexpected transformation. “Well I know that’s my skirt,” you giggle.

“Ah, yes. That’s correct. I found one with an elastic waist, so I could fit- but I’ll change if you mind me using it.”

“No, not at all!” You reassure quickly. He has a good eye for fashion, despite his usual insistence on a leopard-print tie. He’s paired the skirt with one of his own button-downs, sleeves rolled up over his ropy forearms. You step forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“You like it, then?” He asks softly.

“You’re beautiful,” you sigh. “But what’s this all about?”

He chuckles. “I figured that although you look stunning as ever, I might get a little more attention than you tonight. Help with the whole ‘being perceived’ bit.”

You laugh and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, careful not to muss his hair. “You’re an angel. A sexy, stylish angel.”

“As long as I’m yours,” he murmurs. “Now. I’ve moved our reservations once, let’s not be late for them again, hm?”

Nanami’s theory was correct. Every eye in the fancy restaurant is on him as the two of you are escorted to your table. Some stares are admiring, some judgmental, but he’s completely unbothered. He looks at you from across the table as if you’re the only other person in the world.

You clink your wine glasses together. “To my beautiful wife,” he smiles.

“To my beautiful husband,” you smile back.

[insufferablelust]

GEVĪ [BEAUTIFUL] Aemond Targaryen x F!Sister!Reader

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Two dragons, hatched from the same womb, nurtured by the same hands, yet bestowed with different fates— how do you, rekindle your love for Aemond after he has left you to pursue your mother and brother’s wishes? well he will show you how.

Words counted: 7.2k

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy corruption kink, breeding kink, Slight exhibitionism (Sex next to window), Choking, Claiming of maidenhood, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of blood (nothing graphic), Slight angst (mention of fidelity and arguments nothing heavy), Mention of usurping the throne (half-canon), LOTS of pet names (i’m a sucker for those).

Hello! this is my second HOTD character fic, yes this one is smutty too lol, its a filler i wish to post before posting the completed requests, this is NOT BETA’d, because i’m slammed with work so I apologize, however, a friend of mine will try to beta this soon (so it’ll be revised). Remember that english is not my native language so bear with me. My request is always open for HOTD characters. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

The soft pitter patter sound of your nieces and nephews makes you giggle in delight, their tiny puffy hands clutching the dragon figure, making gestures of flying them around, as they make sounds to imitate the giant beasts. Jaeherys and Jaehaera were playing on your personal chambers, as you hand invited your older sister, Helaena, to have a chat. You have always try and take care of Helaena, even when she is the older one, you hold a strong contentment to make sure she is alright, especially knowing her hardened path with that of your older brother, the King himself.

“Do you have a name for this one, sweet Prince?” You tenderly asked Jaehaerys, taking one of the dragons on the soft fur carpet up ahead of his line of sight, “Sunwyre!” Jaehaerys exclaimed excitedly, making you throw your head back and laugh softly, his mispronunciation have always warmed your heart, the innocent nature of children, their pure conscience, not yet tainted by royally duties, nor know the taste of power, their world filled with imaginary tales, and make-do creatures.

“Your father’s dragon hm? and what about… this one?” You hold another dragon figure now, a bigger one than the last, this one has the color of dark green, oddly reminding you of a certain someone’s dragon. Ah. “Vhagaw!” it was Jaehaera’s turn to answer, a shy quiet little girl just like you once were, but bright and intelligent nonetheless. Your lips curled into a warm smile, eyes crinkling at the adoration of your niece and nephew. You had hopes for them, even through this impossible times, that they uphold the values of their mother, Helaena, more than they do that of your older brother, Aegon.

“Vhagar? uncle Aemond’s dr—“

“Hm, the most powerful one, isn’t that right, Jaehaera?”

Your head snapped backwards as you heard his velvety voice, gulping quickly at the moment you caught sight of his figure, standing tall, leaning against the entryway of your chambers, head tilted, eyes darted to you, and lips stretched in a knowing grin.

“Aemond…”

It has been awhile since you saw him last, having been too angry to bid him farewell when he went on his way to propose a marriage deal between he and one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters. He sought you out for hours leading up to his leave and the days afterwards, yet you always manage to elude him, breaking your regular routine of breaking your fast with him, and retreating to your chambers at the earliest convenience, even strictly telling the guards stationed at your door to never let anyone in, even the Prince himself, not that they can say much if he insisted, but you know if he heard of your hardened resentment, he would never push you. No, not his little sweet sister, the delight of his days, the beacon of his visions, the only decadent part left from his viscous life.

You had spent your days crying inside your chambers, for you know it was selfish of you to be mad at him for doing his duty, but the pain had eaten its way through your heart, gnawing ever so brazenly through your sanity. You had refused to talk to your mother, only limiting few chosen ladies of your maids to be of assistance to you— once telling Alicent that you have no desire with entangling yourself in her business to Aegon’s crowning.

You see, Aemond and you were always inseparable, from the day you were born, he had been so infatuated by the small babe cradled by his mother, someone other than Helaena that he saw his mother doted on, he admitted that he was jealous of the treatment both you and Daeron received, something he never felt from his own mother, but alas your soft velvet nature is incredibly difficult to resist, not by his mother and well, certainly not him. A pretty little thing you are. Always so gentle, docile, never fuss much even as an infant. He would always play with your babbling lips when you talked about your lessons, or how you have dreamed on claiming a dragon of your own.

Your silver locks of hair as the curtain to your beautiful supple face, eyes alike his— lilac with tinges softer, your pink dewy lips… oh the stuff of dreams to him, curve of your neck which usually adorned by the various jewels your mother sought out for you, your enticing figure— growing into a grown Princess that bewitched him beyond belief. You are the epitome of everything he was not and never will be, an angelic dew scented nymph, to his raging soulless dragon.

Growing up with you alongside him was what made his life bearable, even through all the bullying he has suffered by the hands of his own brother, and nephews as well as the petulant ignorance of both of your parents, you made it all somehow possible. You would tend to him, fill his days with the stories and knowledge you have learnt from your Septa, blabbering about the story of the Conquerer’s war in the Dornish region, and fluttering his heart when you speak of your pious upbringing, obviously influenced by his mother.

It was you who cleaned his wounds when Aegon had pushed him too far, it was you who always listened to his heart’s content— during his darkest depleted epoch, it was you who wiped his tears after he was presented with a pig by his brother and nephew, sweet you— who have claimed yourself a dragon, one gentle hatchling when an egg was placed on your cradle. He was wary then, that you too, would cast him away, make him feel small— but alas he had judged you too quickly, for you never do any of his blackest imaginations, instead you would warm him up to your little dragon, a gesture which granted him confidence to later tame the beast herself, Vhagar.

But he had left you. For some other Baratheon girl. He left you to crawl into your hole of despair and insecurities. Damning yourself on what had you done for fate to be so cruel to you. What had you done for the Gods to banish his hands away from your own.

“Sister…”

His tone had been gentle, you looked away as you could not even peer into his eyes for you know he would be able to see the looming tears on your gentle violet eyes, one he had seen in his dreams each night since his return back to the Keep.

“Here, Jaehaerys, how about you play with Sunfyre, hm?” Your voice was shaky, eyes fleeting everywhere but at him, you are desperate to run away, anywhere but here, “Jaehaera, come, accompany your brother with Vhagar, yes?”

“Yes, auntie.”

“Good girl, Jaehaera, my sweet princess.” You kissed her temple lovingly, feeling saddened that you had to pry away from your niece and nephew so soon, but you had to go away, “Helaena, I must go, I shall catch you later during supper, yes?” Your eyes met that of your older sister’s distant ones, who just hummed, as she continued to draw some sketches on her brown paper. You were always grateful for her inquisitive mind, now more-so. Pecking a small kiss to her temple before standing up.

“Little one wait—“ You felt his hands graze the peeking flesh underneath the slit of your gown, the touch was— exhilarating, igniting that dragon fire inside of you once more, yet you paid it no mind, not now, you thought. Heels walking past him, making a beeline towards your reading chamber, the only place where you can escape.

Sighing softly, your eyes shut tight, the memory of his voice, his touch, his look, and even the feeling of his breath so close yet so far away, it makes you shudder. Gods, you think. Even after leaving you astray for days, he still leaves such an imprint on you, as if he had claimed you from inside out, and you have naught but a small grasp on your will to deny him.

You moved aside, setting yourself beside the door as you slowly drop to your knees, head thrown back against the wall— heart beating way too quick for your own comfort, what in the Seven hells—

“I thought I’d find you here…” You jumped slightly at the sound of your chamber doors opening as well as the sound of his voice again, of course he’d find you here, you thought, he was the one that had begged your mother to designated this place to become your safe haven in the first place, he always found your love for Old Valyrian literature to be as magnificent as you are, and had wished to accommodate you with all there is to know— a tutor, the ancient tomes, and the room itself.

“I do not wish to see you.” You stilled your gaze to the balcony far ahead of you, distracting yourself from his overwhelming presence— his voice, his tall lean figure, his musky smell that strongly resembles home for you, and his oh so devoted attention. “You do not mean that…” There’s a pang of guilt when you heard the softness of his voice, yet you ought to scoff and bit your lip instead.

“You know nothing of my wants or desires, brother.” You cringed at the shakiness of your own tone, scolding yourself at your constant reverie of him, making you lost inside your own thoughts, with tongue too numb, and throat too tight, “Why don’t you fly back to your Baratheon girl on Storms End? you ought to be excited to wed her, are you not?” Venom laced your voice, nails digging onto the soft lilac ensemble you had worn today. He chuckled.

How dare he.

“Little one…” He trailed, crouching down beside you, his thumb and index finger reach out to grip your chin softly yet demandingly all the same, you struggled against him, “Ah ah, do not fuss now.”

“Let me go.”

“Look at me, sweet girl, please?”

Sometimes you wish that the Seven could just curse your brother out for a bit, so that you do not have to be subjected to your own weak will against his own domineering charm, you looked up at him albeit reluctantly, oh how have you torn him to pieces with that look alone.

Your eyes are glistened with unshed tears, lips flushed and slightly pouty just as you used to do when you were a child— begging him to stop studying history and to play with you instead, Aemond does not know how does one capable to hold his life in the gentle crook of their palm, but here you are… his precious little sister, the core of his being.

“There you are, pretty princess..” He gently trace his knuckles across your cheek, then down your jaw, neck, and move to tuck strands of your silver locks behind your ears, softly caressing your hair, “What is it that makes you so restless, hm?” You scoffed at his pathetic attempt to sound dumb to your dilemma, knowing he is far too smart to not know.

“You left me, lēkia.” Brother. Your eyes darted away again before he tuts and tugs at your chin once more, “You know I only do what is asked of me, gevī, to help Aegon secure his throne…” Beautiful.

“Yet, you could not have proposed a better deal?” Your gaze sharpened at him, heart tugging tight at your ribcage, suddenly remembering his promise to you when you were once only seven, and then again during every single one of your name day.

I will never leave you, dōnus ñuhys, you are destined to be my queen, for all the Seven can never deny us.

“Tis’ my duty, sweetling, you know I—“ You rolled your eyes at that, tugging your chin free from his hold but remain your gaze at his own, “So it seems that you have chosen your duty over me then, brother, I should have known I was never more than a vessel to fill your desires with.”

“Left you for a few days, and you run your tongue as you please hm?” You shivered, flush heat spreading through your skin, down to the apex of your thigh, Gods, “Do you deny it, Aemond?” You gulped down your nerves, eyes finding his lips tilted in amusement, his little endeavor has left his sweet girl went feral, it seems.

“A vessel for my desires, you say… little one, how can you be just that when you have me wrapped around your little fingers—“ You were about to retort back, “Ah ah, let me speak.” He grabbed your fingers in his, tilting his head like how he did when you were kids. “All of this, I do for you, as to keep you safe, if that takes me to wed some girl to put you on the throne as My Queen, then tis’ a sacrifice worth my lifetime.”

“How come you do this for me if we shall never be together?” A tear fell from your eyes at last, unable to form other ways to express your distress, “If it is the throne that takes you away from me, I never want it.” You averted your gaze for you know that your brother has always desired Aegon’s throne even before it was bestowed upon the eldest, and he will do whatever it takes go get it as it was his birthright.

“Pretty girl with such pure wishes, you are.” He mused, both hands come up to cusp your jaw, directing your eyes back at him, clicking his tongue, “I will not let you get any less than what you deserve, the realm at our feet with you by my side.” For sure you could never conclude which is sharper, his stare that makes your spine tingle, or his words— full of high promises, one that is dangerous to talk aloud, one that would grant him a harsh slap on the cheek from Mother, one that can cost him his tongue.

“But… Aeg—“

“Do not let that worry your pretty head, little one, just trust me like you always have hm?” His promises were too sweet to resist, the temptation to breach what is beyond the comprehension of your family is too ripe for the taking, you are sure that if either your grandsire or mother have heard of this, you both will never set foot in King’s Landing again, but alas your childhood fairytale always clung to him, his words are inescapable… and well, if he will be damned as the consequences, then you may as well join him, for the world is a dull one without his devotion.

You crack out a tiny smile, one he always cherishes, once it was the center of his boyish infatuation, then it became the only thing other than Vhagar rumble or the promise of the cold hilt of Blackfyre that enlighten his youth, then it became his end goal, your smile— your beautiful oh so sweet saccharine smile. Fuck.

“You know I will always tru—mm!”

The declaration has yet to leave your lips, barely through your tongue when suddenly his breathing fawns over your cupid’s bow, the feeling was exhilarating, his lips—warm lips engulfing your own, gentle at first, like how he had kiss you once, twice, thrice when you were younger— the last one being the night before your sire had died, a day before he set out his proposal to the Baratheons, oh how you’ve missed this— him.

His palm hold a strong grip on the side of your neck, making you gasp and bringing you back slightly down to earth, you didn’t even realize you were floating in the bliss this whole time, “Aem—“ Your sweet voice, he thinks, so soft whimpering his name that the sound is enough to make his breech tighten. Aemond cuts you off by kissing you harder this time, tongue prodding against your lips so you may grant him an entrance to your wet cavern.

When you showed a little resistance through your teasing giggle he bit the bottom of your lip— now red and raw from his ministrations, you mewl deliciously, as he takes his chance to slip his tongue inside, oh, you think, the pressure is so immense, the swirl of his tongue tangling with your own overwhelms you. Aemond explores every inch of you, his thumb grazing at the pulse point on your neck, making you shudder and slightly arch your back to reach out for him, before he parted you both.

“Uh what—“

“Stand up, Princess.” He commanded, holding his hand out to help you up, you tried to stand as steady as you could but there is no mistaking the way your knees wobbled ever so slightly— damn him for making you so weak, Gods.

He spared you no time to muddle with your thoughts before pressing you to the wall beside the door, you whimpered at the sudden force, but he is careful on placing his palm behind your neck to protect your delicate head from the intrusion with the wall. “Aemond, what are we doing?” You asked, eyes glimmering with adoration, admiration, love, lust, fear, anticipation, and everything in between.

He smiled at you, scorching hot sent right to the core on the apex of your thighs, his eye flutter shut before pressing his forehead against yours, his nose also nudged into your own, lips flushed against your quivering one, “What we should have done a long time ago, sweetling.” Aemond moved his fingers to graze against the column of your neck, “Making you mine, in every sense there is, wholly.”

You trembled at that, if it weren’t for his strong grip on your hips and neck, your knees would have buckled and fell then on, you take a deep breath— closing your eyes before entangling your hands around his neck, pressing your lips back to his awaiting red, now tongue and teeth battling in the midst of pure pleasure, hot white whines, and mewls escaped your throat.

Aemond’s arms slipped from his grip on both your neck and hips, crouching down slightly— lips still interlocking with yours ferociously, he hooked them up under the back of your knee before pulling you towards his hips, you moaned through his lips, “Ah!” Wrapping your legs around his back, he effortlessly carry you to the nearby table— places you on top of it, one that so conveniently sat beside the oh so grand window overlooking the surrounding area of smallfolks outside the Keep.

“I have waited years to do this, riñītsos.” He grunts against your lips, you claw at his neck seeking him closer and closer to you, for any space between you felt like a void of infinity— fearing that it, too, will take him away from you again, “to devour you as I please…” He trailed, lips canvassing your skin with heated marks, first the corner of your lips, then to your jaw— oh and your most sensitive part, on the column of your neck. You shivered and let out a wanton whine. Little girl.

“To take you as I want to…” His teeth graze against your pulse as you arch your back, eyes sewn shut, pretty girlish pink lips parted with melodic whimpers escaping them, your skin heated— hands grabby for him, “To make you mine, my little petal.” You gasped as he bites down at the exposed skin, “Aemond!” Your cunt is surely drenching your smallclothes by now, but you spared it no thoughts, for you are too meddled in your blissful paradise.

“When the time comes,” After making his mark, albeit the color is a gentler one than he’d hoped, he grazes his fingers along the silk of your white dress, right atop of where the fabric seal the supple flesh of your breasts, the delectable bud that begs to be caressed, sucked, and worshipped, “Will you let me, hāedar?” His eye glinted at you, so gentle yet ravenous all the same, “Kessa, lēkia.” Yes, brother.

He passionately grunted, pressing his forehead against yours as his nimble fingers unlaced the intricate details of your dress, you are glad that you wore a rather relaxing dress today, for it is not so hard for him to loosen the laces and let it gently fall from your body— the silk pooling at your thigh against the desk, “Gevī.” He muttered as his eyes scanned through your ever so soft skin, from the way your neck is slightly arched backwards from your heavy breathing, your exposed collarbone, to the oh so mouthwatering swell of your breasts. He can feel his breeches tightening to the point of painful tugs, not that he cares much. Beautiful.

“Kostilus, Aemond…” You whimpered when his lips ghosted over your collarbone, “Ah ah, quiet, Princess.” His deep amber voice rattles your spine like no other, “Let me taste you.” He whispered, fingers moving to tug a gentle grip at the reddened and darkened bud on your breasts, “Mmnh!” You moaned delicately, arching your back with your palm flat against the desk behind you, your figure enticing and inviting him even closer. Please.

You bit your lips hard— harder than you should when Aemond engulfed the blood filled buds up to his lips, he goes gentle at first, suckling like small babe would but then he grows ferocious— “Gods!” You yelped as he bit at the hardened flesh, causing you to shiver once more, bucking your hips to try and assuage the building pressure at your cunt, now wet and weeping to be filled. Him… by him.

Aemond did not dare stopping his ministrations, one hand tugging on the other one as he continues to suckle on your nipples greedily, your nails dug through the hard material of the desk but you have naught care to it, for your brother is keeping your nerve ends alive— lit with fire and blood.

“Your purity has always been mine to corrupt, little one…” He trails as he moved to crouch down, his lips also trailing a soft kisses path down your tummy, to your navel before tugging at your dress a tad bit forcefully, as it fell to the floor below, he makes a quick move to release you of your smallclothes, wasting no time to stare intensely at your now exposed fluttery soaked cunt, “My my, Princess… look at you…” He groaned, making you mewl.

“S-stop looking at… me like that.” Your hand moved downward in a shy attempt at covering your now exposed flushed mound, which he clicked his tongue at— as if he is scolding you, and grip your wrist tightly, “You will not deprive me of seeing what is mine, sweetling…” He keeps a hold of your wrist, as you wiggle about, “Your cunt is mine, to taste, fuck…”

“Aemond…” You can no longer hold the wanton sounds originating from your bewildered state, body so flushed with heat and desire that your mind has reduced to blank fuzzy space of just him, him, him.

“Mine to own.” His other thumb move closer to your heat before pressing it softly against the throbbing bud that is your pearl, “I— ah! w-what…” Mix of confusion, thrilling pleasure, and indescribable rush flows through you when you feel the blissful pain from his fingers that had pinched your pearl, you desperately try to keep your moans and tears at bay, however, that proves to be fruitless when Aemond decided to replace his fingers with his mouth. You were done for.

“Slow down! mmnh!” You writhe in his hold, feeling his tongue slide from the fluttering of the silky entrance of your cunt and drags your sweet nectar up against your pearl, the bud thrumming in attention, relishing in the licks and suckle of his sinful lips, “Seven hells, riñītsos…” He let out an sadistic chuckle against your dripping petal, making you shudder, “You open up so beautifully… for me, tastes better than any Westerosi wine.” You clench tightly on nothing, he hummed at the sight. Little girl.

“Please please!” You begged, your body folding, grasping his silky locks on your hand, Aemond looks up at you with so much vigor as he continue working his tongue and lips on your cunt, the constant ah-ah-ah leaves your mouth, filling his ears. Aemond pushes a finger past your flushed opening, “Relax, sweetling, let me in.” He said with faux gentleness.

“I—oh!” Your peachy lips drops and your tongue lolls out at the intrusion of his index finger, curling it up as he inches in, your cunt is tight, tighter than anything— and you are not just any maiden, he thought, you are his sweet little maiden of a sister, “Syz riña.” He hummed against your nub, continuing his earlier work of suckling on your pearl as his finger eases in and out of you. Good girl.

You can only gasp and let out strings of mewls at the feeling, it’s so good, you think, so so so good— it feels better than being intoxicated in goblets of wine, it feels better than any gifts you have ever been given as a Princess of the realm, it feels better because it is given by Aemond, you concluded.

Your lips curled in pleasurable tandem, feeling your cunt clench like blooming flower around him, his lips leave you no choice but to submit to both him, and your upcoming peak. There is a strange yet powerful tugging at the base of your tummy, something about to snap— “Aemond.. I.. Gods, I think—“ You mewled desperately.

He looked up to you then, smiled and chuckled deeply, “Tis’ okay, little one, peak for me.” He urged you, mouth suckling around your peal, biting at the nub almost mockingly, combining with how the tip of his finger right on the spongy part inside you, curling them with purposeful jabs— your only response is a high pitched scream of his name followed by strings of girlish pet-like mewls as your cunt gush around his fingers.

“Good girl, my good Princess.” Aemond cooed, his tongue greedily lapping up the sweet saccharine nectar from the now fluttering oversensitive tightness of your cunt, “Mmh.. c-can’t..” You wiggle from his hold, shaking your head as your body shake with the aftershocks of your heightened pleasures— the feeling is akin to that of when you rode your dragon, Valyx, the majestic red winged creature that bonded with you.

“Shh, I know, too much hm?” Aemond hummed, releasing his finger out of you as your opening winked at him— what a petal of a slut you are, made just for him, pure and ever so decadent—“What did.. what happened, Aemond?” Oh you looked at him so so softly, demure and skittish, shy. Just like a kitten would. He suppressed the way his cock is begging for release just at the sight of your corrupted flushed face, and shivering body.

“You peaked, sweetling.” His voice deepened considerably, as does his lilac eyes, “Peaked? oh… like..” Your hands went to cover your face as you heated up, only for him to click his tongue and grip your wrist tightly, “Ah-ah, no need to be shy, little one. It felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yes but—“

“But no, Princess, from now on you should expect to feel like that from me, understand?” His voice is soft, although strained by lust and his desire to just fuck you then and there, he had to wait though, anything to make you feel more at ease with your body and the pleasure he brings to you. His innocent little sister.

“I suppose that’s okay…” You whispered timidly, which causes his heart to flutter, Gods, he will give you the fucking moon and rebuild Old Valyria from its ashes if it so pleases you, “Did you— did you do that to Floris too?” You asked, eyes are darted to anywhere but him.

He sighed, “Poppet, what are you talking about hm?” You shrugged, oh his sweet angel, always such a possessive little thing you are, knowing what you want yet restricted by your gentle nature, “I have not and shall never give that to anyone but you, my sweet, t’was a deal I myself never planned on following through.” He said, looking up at you— his eyes glinted with nothing but honesty and love for you, you’d know because of the numerous time he had lied on not being in pain after the torment he had suffered at the hands of your own brother and nephews.

“But what about Aegon, and mother?” You whispered, now looking at him, “Won’t they be furious if they knew? wouldn’t it be… treason?” The word leave an acid feeling on your tongue, it feels like you’re accusing him, Aemond knows you better than anyone else though, he knows you mean no foul— it showed you care for him.

“They can voice out their complaints to me when I am King, little one, it matters not.” Your wyes widened at his implication, excitement and thrill oddly runs through your blood at his declaration, Gods, you have no more care for formalities or ideals, not when he is here— not when this is what you can have.

“Brother…” Both of your palms come up to cusp his face, your finger gently peel the eye patch he wears— the movement has his eye fluttering, yet he bears no resentment to your action, only affection, “I want you, take me as you wish.” You are many things, hesitant in your steps— that innocence shines through most of the time, but none came when you said that, only truth and love. Solely devout to him.

Something animalistic flashes through the glint of his eyes, something feral, so driven by passionate affection, devotion, and lust—eternally for you, “As my Princess’s wish.” He muttered before standing up fully to his height, making you crane your head up to look at him. You watched as he tugs his coat and sleeves off, your eyes danced on his pale skin— his sapphire that taunts you with promise of unnerving fealty, and overwhelming dominance.

Exposing his upper body to you, your finger trail a feather light touches to his skin, a tad of your innocence apparent in the way you felt him yet you’re also teasing him with how you press on certain spots, in which he only smiled and chuckled at you—his wanton little slut wrapped in a saint goddess bodice of a Princess— admiring the way his muscles tense, the way his masculine musk penetrated your senses— so his, so so his.

Aemond then tugs his breech loose, letting it drop to the stone floor below— there he is, permeated by the sun shining through the slit of window, all in his naked glory— so enticing, your mouth waters as you gazed him fully— mouth agape, a loud gasp slipped from your mouth as your eyes focuses on the throbbing length of his cock, oh you almost cooed, he is hard—length so full with blood and tension, it looked like it was going to burst, the veins protruding on his shaft, darkened and angry, his tip is flushed a reddish color— thick and inviting, with the opening dripping with his arousal— oh how you would so easily taste him.

Your fingers swiftly went down to grasp his length, thumb about to swipe away the spend on his tip before he holds your wrist—you looked up at him like a child would, he was vastly reminded of a face you’d make as a little girl when he had taken away your lemon cakes just for fun— oh your pouty raw and bitten lips, your puffed out cheeks, your eyes that radiates want want want, silently begging him, Gods, you’d be the death of him.

“Aem—“ You whined like a spoiled little brat you are, oh he’d have so much fun taming the living soul out of you, later though, he thought, “You will get your taste later, little one—“

“But!” You and your stubbornness, he thought, oh but he’ll relinquish in the joy and thrill to break you fully— mould you just for him, “Ah ah no, behave, sweetling. Pouty mannered little girls will not get anything other than denied of their peaks, you do not wish for that, do you? hm?” Your spine shivered at the tone he used, so mocking, making you so small, especially with his fingers on your wrist and the other on your chin— scolding a child—yet the only sound that escaped your pouty lips are soft desperate mewl and whine.

You are so fucking sweet, he was ready to come then and there.

“N-no Aemond… I will be good for you.” You whispered, eyes glassy, lips trembling, he breathes heavily, “Oh sweet dove, shh you will get what you want.” He hummed, moving his fingers to gently run through your luscious silver hair, lips leaving an oh so sweet peck to the crown of your head.

When you nod to his words, he leaned in to kiss you ferociously, his palm move to your hips, bringing you to the edge of the desk as your tongue dances in a fiery battle— well less of a battle when you consider that he dominates you— “Uh!” You moaned as his thick shaft touches the soft pulsing wet folds of your cunt, you’re incredibly soaking the table beneath you by now.

Aemond groaned at the way your cunt is opening up to him, fluttering around the very top of his tip as if inviting— daring him to just slide in, though he restrains himself because this is your first time, he will go gentle, there’re plenty of times to break you later, he mused. “Syz, riñītsos.” Aemond purred deeply, “Ready?” He sweetly gaze down at you and your quivering form, pressing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. Good, little girl.

“Mhm.” You nodded, voice naught but a small whimper, one of Aemond’s palm reach down to grasp yours in his, intertwining your fingers to his— his other hand grip the base of his throbbing length—You let out a loud gasp as you feel him breaching your wet entrance with a swift motion, the tip is in and you cried.

“I-it hurts…” Tears dropped down from your eyes, “Shh, doing so well for me, sweetling.” Aemond cooed gently at you, holding him back from indulging in the feeling of your unimaginably tight tight tight warm wet flowery cunt grasping the tip of his cock— Gods has to reward him for his resilience for he can wait little longed than to come right then and there, you’re intoxicating, too sweet for him and way too fucking tight.

The Prince kissed your lips gently, lovingly as if to ground both you and him, the softness of his lips bringing you back to earth slightly— but mayhaps it was to distract you for what comes next, you wailed loudly as he pushed in more of his length, your cheeks now drenched with tears, chest heaving, and cunt clenching around him ever so torturously, both of your fluids mixing below you, feeling the wetness help him to push in yet more inches, filling you to the brim.

“Full Aem… so full, too big…” You truly ought to send him to an early grave, he thought, “You can take it, my sweet girl taking her brother’s cock like the perfect girl she is.” Aemond cooed against your ear, the praises consuming you whole, the pain from your core gradually subsides as you feel him waiting— you heart warmed at the gesture— he’s waiting for you to be comfortable.

“Please… please continue.” You whimpered, craning your head backwards as he pressed his thumb against your swollen pearl to relieve the pain, “I-ah! fuck me, Aemond.” Your comment might’ve been brazen but he doesn’t miss the way your body shivered at your eyes drooped, lips curled just as you did whenever you revert back to your girlish demure self. Oh his sweet little girl, being brave just for him, his little dragon.

He shushes you all at once, both palms on the either side of your hips as he slowly experimenting by moving his hips backward so that only half of his length is inside of your tight haven, before thrusting back in, deep deep deeply, you both moaned loudly at that, the feeling of his cock in and out, in and out, in and out of you is heightened— you can feel his veins against your walls, clenching tightly— holding him in a vice grip.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Aemond grunted, his hips faltering a bit but keeping a nice steady pace as you mewl, cunt gushing his cock with the pain now dulled and replaced by pure white pleasure, you swear you can feel your ear rings, “Perfect little cunt for a perfect little girl.”

“For you! ah!” The plethora of moans and whiny gasps that left your lips has his head spinning, “Gods made you for me, to be mine.” He possessively growled, increasing the pace of his thrusts as he leaned down to capture the sensitive part of your skin just below your ear and leave a reddish purplish mark.

You can do naught but to take the way he thrusts thrusts thrusts in and out of you, his curved tip always hitting that spongy spot inside you, making you dizzy and drunk— cockdrunk and dumb on him, your lips agape as he continue to nibble marks on your skin, you could care less on how you will conceal that later, too wrapped up in bliss of his grunts and the feeling of his cock inside of you.

“One day you will bear me an—fuck! heir, you hear me little girl?” His thrusts are borderline mean now, hips rutting inside you as if you’re his drug and he cannot deprive himself from your sweet intoxicating cunt, “Yes! Gods yes! as many as you want.”

The sound of the skin slapping inside the room will for sure frighten anyone, especially guards outside the door, but you had hoped that mayhaps someone from the council might able to hear, so that they know Aemond is irrevocably yours— and so that they know you will bear his babes, heirs— none of that arranged marriages for political gains, just you and him, thrumming with the strong bond of Old Valyria, the dragon’s blood danced and merged.

Aemond pulled away from your neck as he looked at you with eye full of love love love, lust lust lust, and adoration, like he would worship the ground you walked upon, and even you knew he would if you asked. At one of your loud mewl, he bring his thumb to rub harsh circles on your pearl making you grip him as you soak him and your thighs even more.

“Mmh Aemond…”

“I know, close aren’t you, Princess?” He taunts you, all the while you do not have the strength anymore to care, for you are so so so close to reaching your peak, utterly desperate for it, “Uh huh, please please please.” Oh you sweet sweet dove, begging him like that, how can he ever refuse you? his beautiful little sister? he might be mean but not so mean to deny you of your peak.

“Shh, little one, I know what you need, you trust me don’t you?” His tone is sickly sweet, mocking and genuine at the same time— your mind having been too fuzzy to comprehend it only let out a muffled whimper, “Mmhm..” He laughed at that, finding you so unbearably cute, just his little dragon wanting to come so bad, it makes him wanna fuck his seed into you more.

“C’mon my sweet, i know you can do it.” He urged you, all of it— the hot breath against your skin, the nibbling, the way he circled your pearl so sinfully, the way his cock impaled you open— all of it is just too much, addictive. “Peak for me like the good little whore you are, hm?” His voice is rough, hips faltering in his pace— obviously holding himself back from releasing into your womb.

“Nnmh, not a- not a whore.” You hiccuped in a high pitch, oh his sweet little girl, he chuckled at you— looking at your pathetic teary eye, cheeks drained— as drained as your cunt is soaking his length, “My little princess, the purest of maidens, the finest of whores, mine, nobody else’s.”

“I- ah ah ah! Aemond!” You clenched your cunt so tight around him as something snap inside of you, the dam broke and once more you can feel yourself hitting that plethora of pleasures— brain fuzzy, only Aemond, only him him him. You peaked— body trashing, and flushed all over for you are unable to control the movement of your limbs and muscles anymore— too drunk on his cock.

“Good girl, shit, my good fucking girl.” Aemond cooed but the harshness of his voice indicates that he, too, is close, “Gonna come too now hm? want that little one? my seed inside you?”

“Yes yes yes, uh huh, give it to me please.” You begged him so sweetly, how can he refuse? after all you’re his little sister, his Princess, he never gave you less than what you deserve, even that one time when you asked to take the remaining berry tart that he wanted so bad yet he let you have it, or that one time you begged him to show you the tunnels inside the paintings, the one that holds Balerion’s skull knowing he’d have to evade Ser Cole, or that last time you asked him to kiss you before he went to Storms-end, anything for you. Everything for his Queen.

“Fuck! Gods you’re perfect, going to make you my fucking wife, I swear it.” He possessively muttered, or more like babbling now— too obsessed with the way you hug him so tight like he’d disappear, or the way your cunt clutch him in a come come come motion. “Give it t’me.” You pleaded, voice so soft it makes his head heady— He simply can’t resist you, “Seven fucking hells.”

Aemond shuddered as he released his spend inside of you, the tip of his cock right against the opening of your cervix, enough to make itself known but not enough to hurt you, never to hurt you, not when it does not bring you pleasure. “Thank you thank you thank you…” Your voice is barely a whimper now, your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth parted with your lips lolling out. Sight to behold indeed.

“Shh good girl, my good little girl.” He hummed against you, looking at you with adoration as he slides out slowly— you whined at the loss, already accustomed to being stretched by him, he shushes you one more time as he hold you— seems like you’re a bit gone inside your fuzzy little head.

“My little dragon, so good for me, hm?” He cooed at you, one hand holding you close to him, as his other palm cups your cheek, rocking you slightly, “Come back to me, little one, c’mon, I’m right here.” He whispered, grounding you back down as you hiccuped slowly.

“Aem…” Your voice is barely there but its there, it’s you, and Aemond smiled knowing you are alright, “Here, Princess, did so good f’r me.” He kisses all over your face, making soft pecking noises that has you giggling softly and make an attempt on nudging him away, “Stop.” You whined adorably like a little cat, which he laughed at, “There’s my girl.”

By the way you smiled and blinked at him, he just know that he would give you all 7 realms if you asked, make you his Queen, and demolish all your enemies, so that you shall rule with him— as it always meant to be. The dragons that lived through the dance.

[navybrat817]

Fall for Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he's good enough for you, but still wishes he could be your guy. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Longing, insecurities, "just friends" (for now), Steve is a good friend, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Friday Feels inspired by a nonnie.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a special kind of torture for Bucky to watch the person he loved flirt with someone else.

To be fair, he couldn't say for sure that you were flirting. Being friendly? Yes. You had a warm and welcoming personality, the kind he was drawn to the moment you two crossed paths months ago. One of the things he loved about you was how genuine you were. It was only natural that you pulled others in as well. Your compassion, charm, beauty, everything called to him.

You were the whole package, inside and out.

“What the hell am I doing here?” He muttered. He hadn't wanted to go to the bar, but Steve assured him it was a hole-in-the-wall sort of place. Not a lot of patrons on a night like this. Somewhere no one would bother them. He added at the last second that you were going.

Bucky grabbed his leather jacket to go as soon as those words left Steve’s mouth.

Instead of having a drink with you like he wanted or just talking, he simmered in silence in a booth while you stood at the bar. He narrowed his eyes as the guy you were talking to moved an inch closer. A bit too close for his liking.

Steve said his name was Will. They had met each other at some point in passing. Short blonde hair and a trimmed beard. Ex-military, but still built like he had a war to fight. Behind the guy’s blue eyes lurked pain, guilt, and regret that most would miss due to his general stoic demeanor. Bucky could relate all too well to horrors that haunted even the strongest of men.

But when Will looked at you, his eyes lit up. They held a sense of longing. Hope.

Once again, Bucky could relate all too well because that was how he looked at you.

“You’re doing that staring thing again,” Steve said, grabbing a beer from the bucket and setting it down in front of him. “Just talk to her.”

Bucky took a swig, but didn't take his eyes off you. He was afraid if he looked away that Will might convince you to leave with him. “Talk to her about what?”

His best friend sighed. “You know what.”

Steve knew how he felt about you. Talking about his feelings wasn't easy, but he had to tell his best friend. And it wasn't the first time Steve encouraged him to speak up. He said you had the right to know so the two of you could figure out how to move forward, whether as a couple or just friends, instead of dancing around it.

But how could Bucky admit how he felt when he didn't deserve someone like you?

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

“We're friends,” Bucky stated. The words tasted as bitter as the beer he sipped. No, not bitter. He couldn't feel that way just because he had a piece of you when he wanted all of you.

Was he selfish for that?

He nearly shattered the bottle in his hand when you giggled at whatever Will said. Something akin to jealousy settled in his chest and he had no right to feel that way. The two of you weren't together. You were single and didn't owe him a thing.

But he knows if you gave him a chance, he’d treat you well. Better than any other guy before him. He would do his best to make you happy. Maybe that wasn't enough.

“Will is a good guy, but he isn't you, Buck. You’re still one of the best guys I know,” Steve said.

“You don't have to kiss my ass, punk,” he muttered, immediately regretting it. He was only trying to help and God knows he had done more than enough for him over the years.

Steve shook his head. “And you don't have to feel sorry for yourself, jerk.”

“I’m not,” he whispered. Maybe he was. He was sorry for so many things.

As if you sensed his sadness, you looked over your shoulder and met his gaze. You smiled at him, the kind of smile that stole the very breath from his lungs and made his head spin. He wanted to believe it was a smile you reserved only for him. And the softness in your beautiful eyes, he imagined he could see his future in them.

Could you see the endless love he had for you in his?

His heart ached when you turned away and put your hand on Will’s arm. Of course, you were attracted to the guy. Why wouldn’t you be? The thought of you kissing him though, being intimate with him? He felt sick enough to finally look away.

Bucky glanced at his distorted reflection in the beer bottle. A long time ago, he would've called himself handsome. Not because he was full of himself, but because he knew himself then. He knew how to walk the line between confidence and cockiness. He was full of life and wonder once. Now the weight of his sins showed in how he carried himself.

Sins you never judged him for.

“Jamie? Are you okay?”

Steve nudged him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was so lost in his mind that he hadn’t heard you call out to him. He should’ve known since you were the only one who called him Jamie. When he looked up from his seat, he saw that you were no longer standing next to Will as he was still at the bar. And there was nothing but concern in your gaze as you set your drink down on the table.

“What? What happened?” He asked, not smooth at all.

Your eyes flickered to Steve and then back at him. “I asked if you’re okay. You don’t look too well.”

“Not feeling so great,” he said, which wasn’t a lie. “This place…”

“Oh,” you said, sliding into the booth beside him. He inhaled, your sweet scent soothing the pain in his heart and making it race all at once. “Well, why don’t we head out? There’s no reason to stay if you don’t want to stay.”

He gently smiled. You were always willing to go with the flow and change plans if things ever got too loud or too much for him. “I’m fine. Besides, you just got your drink and you haven’t had a chance to play pool with Sam or Natasha,” he argued. He didn’t want to spoil your night.

You put your hand on his arm, but it seemed different than when you touched Will’s arm. This was tender, soothing. “If being here is making you uncomfortable, then I don’t feel like sticking around. They’ll understand. Steve, please, back me up on this.”

“She’s right. You two should go,” Steve said, conveniently leaving himself and the others out of the equation.

Bucky spared Will a glance, who was now talking to the guys he went into the bar with. He swallowed hard before the next words left his mouth. “What about your new friend?”

“You are my friend, Jamie,” you said. He winced inwardly at the reminder. Friends. You were just friends. “Don’t worry about him. Let’s just go. How about a movie at your place? Something low-key so you feel better.”

“You sure?” He asked, wondering just how eager he looked to leave with you.

“I’m sure,” you smiled, making his heart warm again.

“Okay. You convinced me,” he said. Not that it would’ve taken much. Your smile could bend the will of just about anyone.

“You know, I hear healthy conversations are also good to help people feel better,” Steve chimed in, earning an elbow to the side from Bucky.

You raised an eyebrow and slid out of the booth. “Yeah. Sure. Jamie and I can have a healthy conversation and you all enjoy the rest of the night.” You offered Bucky a hand to help him out. He didn’t want to let go. “C’mon. We have a movie waiting for us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky teased, proud of himself when you giggled.

Steve gave him an optimistic smile and he couldn’t help but return it. He wasn’t sure if Will had given you his number or if you planned to see him, but maybe he’d take a chance and tell you he had fallen for you. Maybe, if he was lucky, you had fallen for him, too.

Just maybe.

And maybe, just maybe, this could be a thing? Did Will give you his number? Will Bucky say how he feels? What's going to happen? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS AND YOU (their crush)

KISSING THEIR CHEEKS

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none just fluff

note : little nod to max's 4th championship win, congrats to him, sooo proud !!

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

I know for sure boy was blushing so so hard. But it's absolutely adorable and cute. Oscar is very patient with you, and even though he dreams of being able to touch you in a more than friendly way, of being able to at least have the right to a little kiss, he restrains himself and tries not to act under his impulses. . However, when you decided to quickly kiss him on the cheek, out of nowhere, he actually felt himself melting from the inside. His cheeks have never blushed so much, and his heart has never beaten so quickly.

─ LANDO NORRIS

Ugh, you guys can barely hold eye contact, but he's already so in love. So mad in love even. Despite the fact that you are still shy, especially him, that you struggle to make eye contact without blushing afterwards, Lando can't help but ask for more. Just a little extra. So, when he walked you to your doorstep, he immediately asked you if he could have even a mini kiss. Your lips naturally landed on his cheek, brushing against it, almost like a ghost kiss. And when you pulled back oh... He was already touching the place where your lips rested, cheeks as pink as yours.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

This was absolutely surprising to Charles. But he would love to be able to feel that feeling again. When your lips pressed naturally against his cheek, your hands framing his face perfectly. He didn't move for at least a good two minutes, trying to figure out what just happened. If it was real. He was so shocked that he didn't see you lean in again to place another sweet kiss. He blinked a few times, and you could only giggle silently. Oh, it was the best day of his without a doubt. And if he could live it again, he wouldn't hesitate for a single second before saying yes.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

He only had eyes for you. And he loved seeing you smile, and making you happy. So from time to time he spoils you, and although you don't like it when he buys so many things for you, you always end up thanking him warmly because after all, it's adorable. You always hugged him, hugging him a little tighter each time, but this time it was different. You wanted a change from hugs, so with a surge of courage and love you gently kissed his cheek to thank him. He was dizzy, almost on the verge of passing out. He couldn't hold back a shy smile, and above all he couldn't settle for a hug from now on.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

He waited there patiently, sitting in a corner of the garage before getting in his car. You were a few feet away from him, watching the mechanics adjust the final modifications to the car. He couldn't help but admire you. And stare at your lips. God, he would give anything to be able to feel them against his skin. And as he was about to get in the car, he stopped when he felt your arm rest on his forearm. And without knowing how, your lips crashed onto his cheek in a quick kiss. His best smile appeared on his face, as he tried to hide his blush by putting on his helmet. Finally, his wish came true, right?

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

He can't stop replaying the scene in his head. He already found you so perfect, so beautiful and incredibly intelligent. It wasn't just a crush anymore, it was George, a simp for you. But already his heart was speeding up just by looking at you, he really thought it was going to stop beating when you gently kissed him on his cheeks. It was pure, sweet and... terribly affectionate. He tried to appear as normal as possible, but inside he was a mess. His whole body was telling him to kiss you and tell you everything he has in his heart right now. And he's sure that day will come soon, because there's no way another day will pass without a kiss from you.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

As the race draws to a close, Max is finally a 4th time F1 world champion. And getting out of his car, as he proudly waves his arm to greet the crowd, only one thing is on his mind. You, you and only you. So it was natural that he found you among the crowd, looking at you as if only you existed in the world. His hair was still damp, his face still covered in drops of sweat, but that absolutely didn't stop you from pressing your soft lips against his cheek, for a long time. Passionately. And oh, that sweet gesture was better than any championship. His eyes spoke for themselves.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDIO

He will never, ever stop teasing you about the kiss you gave him. Quite simply because he loves seeing you smile and laugh, but above all because he secretly wants you to repeat this gesture over and over again, for eternity. Honestly, you wouldn't even have to ask him for permission as he will already be ready to receive another kiss from you on the cheek. It was by far the most beautiful experience of his life, and oh, his heart always asks for more when he sees you. So, he hopes to feel your lips on his skin again, even if it costs him to tease you all day long.

[chrisbesitos]

insecurities.

You were on top of Chris, you and him were in a hard make out session. Your hands were rested on Chris' chest already out of breath, but you couldn't break the kiss. Kissing Chris was so good to stop.

But Chris broke the contact, he was breathing hard, but his lips touched your neck. Kissing and biting slowly, you was gasping by her kisses. Your nails scratching his naked chest, you could feel something grow against your ass. Biting your lower lip, you smiled swiping your hands through Chris' shoulders.

Chris tugged the bottom of your shirt, instantly you stopped and held his hands.

You and Chris have your intimacy, yes, but never more than handjobs or heads. You never felt ready and your insecurities make you feel scared of this, but you never told Chris.

Of course Chris stopped when you held his hands, he raised his head with his eyebrows frowned. He let your hands, Chris cup your cheeks making you look at him, because you were embarrassed to face him.

"What's wrong, princess? Did I make something wrong?" He asked, worried about his girlfriend. "Don't hide things from me, we already talked about this."

"I don't feel ready for. . . This." You pointed to your shirt, Chris raised his eyebrows understanding what you were saying. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, 'kay? We're not doing anything until you feel ready." He kissed your forehead, pulling you closer to him. You rested your forehead on his chest and sighed.

"I wish I wasn't too insecure." You murmured, Chris gently pushed your shoulders and caressed your back.

"You don't need to feel insecure when you are with me, I love you the way you are." Chris smiled softly.

"I know, it's just. . . I'm not like the other girls."

"What do you mean with this? I don't care about–" You cut him.

"I know, I know." You let out a huf of air. "I don't have their bodies, you know what I mean. Big boobs, tiny waist and a flat belly."

"I don't care if you don't have a body like them. I love your small tits your waist and your cute belly." He tickled your belly, making you giggle. You held him hands to make he stop. Chris smiled. "I love your body and if you think I'll love you less because you don't have big boobs, you're wrong."

"You always say that I'm never wrong." You tease.

"Now you are!" He chuckled. "You let me see them?" He asked, you trust him with your life, so you nodded your head.

Chris tugged your shirt off gently, he put aside and looked at your tits. He smiled at your small boobs in your pink bra, Chris kissed the middle of them and then kissed your belly. He grabbed your waist and rested his head on your chest.

"Your body is so pretty, doll."

You smiled, resting your hands on his back. Chris was the first guy who ever said this and you love him for that. You tell Chris that you still don't feel ready to do it, but he doesn't care, he'll wait until you're ready.

"Just let me stay here, please, princess." He asked, wanting to stay with his head in your chest. You giggled and nodded your head.

After this, Chris wanted to sleep with his head on your chest every day.

i NEED him so bad 😭 btw i tried a new style of writing, but i'm not a big fan, it was just an attempt

Tags: @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668

join my taglist!

[nonranghaes]

felix looks half-asleep by the time he enters your apartment, and you sit up to see if he's there alone. he's not, as chris stands in the open doorway, chuckling to himself before waving and wishing you well before leaving. he drops his bag in the doorway, shuffling out of his shoes and into his house slippers before crossing the living room.

and then he's flopped down onto you, burying his face in your neck as he wraps his arms around you. "missed you," he mumbles, planting a chaste kiss against your skin before cuddling in. "did you miss me?"

you giggle softly, tapping his side a little. he moves back enough for you to wiggle your arms out so that you can hold him. now that you're more comfortable, you pull him back into your embrace and kiss the side of his head. "of course," you say. "did you have a good time?"

"mmhm. you should come next time. mom wanted to see you again." he snuggles in closer to you, warm as ever. "next time she's here, she wants to get lunch."

"with me? or both of us?"

"you," he mumbles. "both of us, too, but mainly you." he chuckles softly to himself, his eyes finding yours in the low light. "i think she likes you more than me."

"well... you know how that feels," you brush back his hair from his eyes. your family loves felix to the point where they're always asking about him and wanting to talk to him when you call home. "but i'd like that." you cup his cheek, and he leans into your touch. "wanna go to bed?"

"yes, please," he pecks your lips. "i slept on the plane, but..." he takes your hand as he's getting up. "i'll unpack in the morning."

you just follow him off of the couch, following after him. "lix?" you say softly, and he turns to you with a sleepy hum. "i'm glad you're home."

he squeezes your hand tighter. even while so sleepy, he gives you a cute smile, and speaks again, "i'm glad you're my home, too."

[withleeknow]

Lee Minho/Know + “quit it or i’ll bite.” + “do it. i dare you.” + suggestive

Thank you if you take this request!!! Up to you who's doing the biting :)

feline tendencies. (m)

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, suggestive (probably a teeny bit more than suggestive), minors dni; practically dry humping, biting kink??, mimo's pecs (yes they deserve their own warning) word count: 0.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

"quit it or i'll bite," minho grumbles, wriggling away from you in an attempt to ward your paws off him. "jesus, what's gotten into you?"

"i wish you would," you mutter, crawling toward him again to lay your head on him once more. the man is reading his book, just trying to enjoy his saturday afternoon and yet there's a menace quite literally in his lap, making grabby hands at him. disrupting his peace and quiet, though that's not really anything new.

"insatiable," minho tsks, his fingers carding through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp as he makes an effort to appease you. his attention is then promptly returned to the pages in front of him.

that's how your weekends are usually spent - lounging about, being lazy together, relaxing by each other's side.

you're just acting up today.

your twitchy fingers have a mind of their own. they dance up his stomach, over his abs until they reach their desired destination.

you place your entire hand over one of his pecs and squeeze, giggling to yourself when you feel his skin under your palm. this earns you a glare though it doesn't faze you.

minho may be scary to other people, but never when he's with you. it's just physically impossible, even if he wanted to.

"seriously, what is with you?"

you give his chest another tender squeeze. "boobs," you say simply. you think that's a pretty good explanation.

maybe you're no better than a man after all.

so it started a couple of weeks ago.

minho rarely skips going to the gym and while you are eternally grateful for it, you must admit that sometimes it drives you a little crazy. you respect his commitment, the consistency of his workout regimen (this could never be you, but that's beside the point); it's one of the traits that you admire most about him - he sees things through and adheres to the schedule that he makes for himself. minho doesn't half-ass the things he does or ditches them when he's feeling a little lazy (unlike you).

however...

it's this same dedication to his routine that's been sending you into a frenzy. lately, your boyfriend has been focused on working a particular area of his body and honestly? it's making you spiral more than you have ever spiraled.

chest. who knew it would be your downfall?

when minho came home last evening straight from the gym, you swear you almost passed out the second he walked through the door. his pecs looked especially good even under his shirt that you practically salivated, shamelessly ogling him like a hungry wolf.

minho sighs as if he's at his wits' end with you, though this time, he lets you continue feeling him up. "you wouldn't like it if i did the same thing to you, now would you?"

"actually, i think i would like that very much."

"i will bite you, no joke."

you have no doubt that he actually would. but again, that isn't something that you would been entirely opposed to either. you might be one of the only people on planet earth who can handle lee minho.

"your feline tendencies are jumping out," you comment, your hand still on his chest, alternating between playful pokes and full on kneading his pecs like dough. "do it. i dare you."

minho bares his teeth at you in the cat-like way that he sometimes does. it's cute, oh so cute.

before you know it, the book is haphazardly flung onto the carpeted floor (bookmark be damned) and your boyfriend is forcing a yelp from your lips when he practically pounces on you. your head is no longer on his lap; instead, he's got you pinned underneath him, his hips flushed against yours.

you can feel him through his sweats. delectable.

minho leans in until his lips ghost over yours. "stop testing me," he murmurs.

"stop tempting me," you shoot back.

"but i'm not though?"

"your boobs are."

"my god." he lowers his head to your neck, his soft lips brushing against your exposed skin as he chuckles. "that's not what they are."

"they might as well be. they're gonna be bigger than mine one day."

the sound coming from his mouth morphs into a laugh, airy and completely defeated by your words. "god, you're just so..."

"i'm so what?"

"weird," minho says.

you smile. "perfect for you then, aren't i?"

"mhmm."

then he's closing the gap between his mouth and your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as he rolls his hips against your body, spreading your legs open so he could slot between them more comfortably, so he could fit against you perfectly.

"oh," you gasp when he ruts forward, presses himself into the warmth between your thighs, over your shorts and his sweats. you weave your fingers through his hair to keep his head close to your neck as if he has any intention on moving elsewhere. minho continues to kiss and lick at your skin, nibbling on it gently in alternation.

"i thought..." you breathe out heavily, your body starting to move against his too, "thought you promised to bite me."

"promised? it was more of a threat, wasn't it?"

"same difference."

you can't see him, but you can just bet that minho is rolling his eyes. then, you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck like he's deciding where the best spot would be. he presses his hard pecs tightly against yours as his mouth closes in. you almost fall apart right then and there.

well, this certainly awakened something in you, didn't it?

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 palindrome969

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 20.01.2024]

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 ONLY U hanni pham x reader

↳ warnings: yn from paparazzi, and many other works under my masterlist, idol au, lesserafim member reader, hanni is jelly, swearing (of course there is its firecracker!yn)

hanni wasn’t a jealous girlfriend.

if anything, yn was the more jealous one between the two. there had been multiple times where hanni had to show up at the lesserafim dorms because yn, being petty after seeing a ship edit, refused to answer her phone all day.

it was honestly pretty funny to watch yn get jealous. the hothead never really showed those type of emotions like that, so whenever hanni got the rare chance to see yn pouting, she savored it.

“you were jealouuusss,” hanni teased, looking at yn, who was sitting on the floor with her nintendo in hand, completely ignoring her. hanni had barged into the lesserafim dorms after yn ghosted her all day..

“fuck off,” yn muttered, eyes glued to her game, while hanni sat down beside her, resting her head on yn’s shoulder. “just wait until the day you get jealous.”

“i don’t get jealous,” hanni replied playfully, earning a nudge that knocked her head off yn’s shoulder.

it was all fun and games between them—at least for hanni. she knew yn didn’t have an insecure bone in her body, so there was nothing to worry about.

and neither did she.

or at least, that’s what she thought.

hanni wasn’t lying when she said she doesn’t get jealous, so the feeling she had in her chest at the moment was very foreign.

she sat beside hyein who had a big ipad in her hand showcasing a live on weverse with yn and eunchae.

she was originally in her room but then she heard a voice that sounded a lot like her girlfriend so she went to investigate only to see a giggling hyein who had her eyes stuck on the screen.

“yn was so nice to me today.” eunchae said to the live smiling brightly at yn who just rolled her eyes.

“shut up.” the girl mumbled squinting her eyes to see the chat since she didn’t have her glasses on her which made hanni shake her head in a scolding way at the screen, she was definitely gonna bother yn about that later.

“she got us matching bracelets!” eunchae exclaimed showing her wrist and picking up bus as well. a chrome hearts bracelet being around both of their wrists, yn was an ambassador for the brand.

yn snatched her wrist from muttering curses under her breath but anybody could tell that she was more flustered than angry which made hanni shift uncomfortably at the sight.

“has yn gotten you a matching jewelry from chrome hearts?” hyein always felt cool just saying yn without unnie ever since yn told her she didn’t have to.

“she has… plenty of times” hanni trailed off watching eunchae wrap her arms around yn who didn’t make any effort to push her off this time, “but not matching.”

“you guys are like kuromi and melody,” eunchae read the comment before turning to yn with a big smile, “are we?”

“no.”

“that means yes guys.” eunchae said interlocking her hand with yn who just ignored the girl keeping her eyes on the chat, but she didn’t argue.

a frown made its way to hanni’s face, her and yn’s relationship obviously wasn’t open to the public but their friendship sure one, and it was an ongoing joke between the two fandoms that yn and her were kuromi and melody.

she watched as this time yn didn’t pull her hand away from eunchae and let the younger girl keep their hands interlocked, a sick feeling making its way to her stomach.

she doesn’t know why this was bothering her so much, maybe it was fact that even when yn tried her hardest to act like she was annoyed by her, it was obvious that eunchae will always be someone who had a soft part for.

and hanni wasn’t gonna lie she wished she was the only person that yn had a soft spot for.

“I’m going to my room.” hanni announced not wanting to watch the live anymore, “I forgot to finish cleaning.”

“oh yeah, yn is sleeping over, you begged her.” hyein teased.

oh right…

“what the hell is your problem?”

hanni looked up from her phone to look at a clearly annoyed yn who pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose which made her look less intimidating, both girls sat beside each other on hanni’s bedroom floor.

“what?” hanni replied looking off to the side to avoid yn’s gaze.

“don’t what me,” yn said aggressively, “you’re the one who begged me to sleep over and you’re not even talking to me what the hell is your problem?”

“there isn’t a problem.”

there was definitely a problem, after watching the live hanni had spent the last hour watching yn and eunchae ship videos on youtube.

“so you think I’m stupid.” yn asked when deeply offended that hanni would even think that she would take that as an answer.

“maybe I will if you don’t believe me.” hanni said with an attitude, “I said there’s no problem, leave me alone.”

as soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted it. before she could even process it, she was flat on her back against the fluffy carpet, yn straddling her, one hand firmly pinning hanni’s wrists above her head.

“let go of me!”

“I will after you tell me what’s wrong!”

”there’s nothing wrong you short stack of pancakes! let me go!”

“what the hell did you just call me?!”

“nothing! let me go!”

“I can do this all day, just communicate with me.”

“since when did you become a therapist, let me go!”

“I guess we’re staying like this.”

five minutes passed.

hanni stopped struggling breathing heavily looking up at yn who looked down at her unimpressed, “ready to talk.”

“you.”

“huh?” yn asked confused, her grip on hanni’s wrists loosening.

“I said you!” hanni exclaimed sitting up fast causing yn to fall off of her.

yn groaned as she sat up, “what are you talking about,”

“ask eunchae.” hanni grumbled.

“can you get to the point!” yn snapped, her patience was always slow, her pinning hanni down earlier was a great example of that.

“I’m jealous!” hanni snapped back, before covering her face with her hands, “ I’m jealous, alright?”

yn genuinely looked shocked at her girlfriends words, “you? jealous? why?”

“you and eunchae in your live today and you getting her matching bracelets and then letting her be all over you and then I went into this deep hole of watching ship edits of you guys,” hanni rambled.

“and YOU allowing her to call the both of you melody and kuromi when WE’RE melody and kuromi.” hanni exclaimed gesturing to their matching pjs hers and melody on it while yn had kuromi on hers.

there was silence for a couple of seconds before yn let out a small giggle.

“why are you laughing?” hanni asked in shock.

“because I never thought I’d see the day where you would be jealous and of eunchae? she’s like an annoying pet, but you’re my girlfriend.”

“this isn’t funny,” hanni grumbled shoving yn’s shoulder.

“it is!” yn replied, “because you have nothing to be jealous of its only you.”

“really?”

“yes,” yn rolled her eyes, “now please stop pouting it’s annoying.”

hanni wrapped her arms around yn who groaned, “that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” she teased, “and please never let eunchae call the both of you melody and kuromi that’s our thing.”

“ugh get off of me.”