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#and then it slowly got shorter
triona-tribblescore · 2 months
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Triona
Join me
Have hair to your knees
(really, irl I have hair to my knees when they are straight)
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LETS GO!!! GROWING MANES IN HYPER-SPEED TIMES!!!
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jadequarze · 11 months
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Reunion 🖤💜
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gyrabanias · 5 months
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picspam of my AA nendodolls! I wanted to start sharing them here so they're not forever lost to the twitter void
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spooh52 · 11 months
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June 24: “…something like a sharp wail quickly suppressed; and then there was silence, deep, awful silence, which chilled me. With a beating heart, I tried the door; but I was locked in my prison, and could do nothing.”
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linawritesocs · 1 year
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jay's union birthday ssr vignette + art!
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it's jay's bday!! :D
i remind you that i only see fake!jay as a playable character while real!jay does appear in the story, you can't play as him, so he doesn't get his own vignette. he does get mentioned though!
and here's another reminder that in the third year/graduated versions post i've mentioned that fake!jay's personality would change a lot and.. as i said, i want my characters to actually get older, so you can see him already starting to act differently in this vignette <3
also this one is a bit short bc i basically had to speedrun both writing his vignette and drawing his bday art
[ part 1 ]
[ ujasiri dorm lounge - birthday venue ]
jay: "i wonder who i will get as my presenter."
jay: "it's probably gonna be allen-senpai, isn't it.."
jay: "or maybe it will be blythe-senpai-"
???: happy birthday, jay-chan!!~ ヾ(⌒▽⌒)ノ
jay: ".. oh. it's still a speculum student, but a different one."
jay: ".. the dorm leader, to be more exact."
angel: i was chosen to be your presenter! \ (^-^) /
angel: and i promise to take my job very seriously. ( ̄ー ̄)
jay: ".. a-are all speculum students like that? maybe they're just trying to be more like their dorm leader?"
jay: "i think blythe-senpai is like.. the only exception."
jay: i-i see.. i'm happy to see you, ashley-senpai-
angel: please call me angel! (>_<) everybody calls me that and you should too~ ^‿^
jay: by the way, why do people call you that? is it like.. a nickname or something?
angel: eh, i don't know, someone came up with it and said that it suits me because i'm so kind. (• ε •)
jay: .. but what is an "angel" exactly?..
angel: i don't know, ask seth-chan about it. he came up with it and when he explained it to the other students, they agreed that it's perfect for me and i just played along. ╮(─▽─)╭
jay: .. oh, so it was his idea..
angel: but enough about me!( ̄へ ̄ ) it's your day after all! v(⌒o⌒)v♪
angel: oh, that reminds me, i have a present for you! O(≧▽≦)O
angel: to be honest, i don't know much about you, so i just picked it based on what allen-chan has told me. (╯︵╰,)
angel: here, open it! ヾ(^∇^)
jay: ".. i'm gonna be honest, i'm a little scared."
jay: ".. hm?"
jay: oh, it's a book.
jay: let me see..
jay: .. wait a second.
jay: .. i-it has another book inside of it??
jay: and it has a third book inside too..
jay: just how many-
angel: it has only seven of them, sadly. (。-_-。) i really wanted your gift to be special and i know that reading is one of your main hobbies, but i felt like just getting one book for you isn't enough..
angel: i was told that this book will have at least ten more books inside of it! (ಠ ∩ಠ) what do you mean it has only seven??
jay: all of them look very interesting though.
jay: thank you, ash- um, angel-senpai. i appreciate it.
angel: .. you like it? you really mean it?
jay: yes.
angel: ...
angel: .. i'm so happy!! ヽ(´▽`)ノ
angel: thank you so much, jay-chan! i was so worried that you won't like it.. o(╥﹏╥)o
jay: haha, it's okay, it's okay.
jay: ".. is it true? were they really worried about such a thing?"
jay: "i just can't figure them out at all."
[ part 2 ]
angel: okay, it's time for the birthday interview! ┗(^0^)┓
angel: here's the first question! ヾ(*´∇`)ノ
angel: "if you could choose one person from the royal sword academy as a sibling, who would it be?" └(★o★)┐
angel: it can't be someone from your dorm though! (◡︿◡)
jay: a sibling?..
angel: oh, oh, i bet you're gonna choose allen-chan! (σ≧▽≦)σ you two are very close after all~ (人´∀`)
jay: um, well..
jay: to be honest, when we first met, i saw him as someone completely different.. like, totally not a sibling figure..
angel: eh? what does that mean? (*°ヮ° *)
jay: n-never mind.
jay: hm.. yes, i think i know who i would choose.
angel: ohhh?? (•⊙ω⊙•) so excited!! ☆(◒‿◒)☆
jay: i think it would be roland-senpai. you know, the gardening club leader.
angel: !! really?? (⊙︿⊙)
angel: ah, it's probably because of his big brother figure vibes! ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)
jay: haha, i guess you can say so.
jay: but the thing is.. roland-senpai really is someone i can fully trust. i admire him a lot.
angel: oh?? ◉‿◉ i wonder why.. (◠‿◠✿)
jay: well, you see.. roland-senpai has not the best reputation, i agree.
jay: but he tries his best to become a better person. and even if he still has his moments of weakness, he never gives up.
jay: i don't know what he did and what kind of person he was in the past, but.. i can try to guess.
jay: and i respect him a lot for still trying to make friends and being nice to everyone even though almost all rsa students either hate him, think he's scary or just ignore him.
angel: .. oh no, now i feel bad for roland-chan.. o(;△;)o
angel: i didn't know that people hate him?? ಥ_ಥ why would they be so cruel to him?? he's such a nice and kind person!!
angel: i wish i knew about it.. i want him to feel safer here. (╯︵╰,) i heard that he used to go to nrc before transferring here. now that i think about it, it does make sense why so many rsa students dislike him..
angel: it doesn't mean that they should hate him though! they should be nicer to him! ( ⇀ ‸ ↼ )
jay: and also.. even though i said that i don't see allen-senpai as a sibling figure, i still admire him too.
jay: p-please don't tell him that though. he won't stop mentioning it all the time if he finds out.
angel: really?? how cute!! so you two really are close! ( ≧◡≦ )
jay: i just admire him for not trying to be like the other rsa students, that's all.
angel: .. huh? what do you mean by that, jay-chan? (。・_・。)
jay: allen-senpai is weird. he's really weird, he's scary, he never thinks before doing something and he gets a new crush like every week.
jay: .. but that's what makes him unique. he doesn't try to be like other rsa students, who act like stuck up royals and pretend to be better than they actually are.
jay: he just doesn't know that his flaws are.. well, flaws. he thinks it's normal to act like that. most of the time he's not doing it on purpose or with bad intentions. he just does what he thinks is right.
jay: .. b-but i would still never want an older brother like that.
angel: haha, and here i was hoping that you will say something like "even though i don't show it, i care about him a lot"!(^v^)
angel: but it's okay. i can see that you like allen-chan more than you think you do. ≖‿≖
jay: h-hey-
angel: oh, are you friends with any nrc students, by the way? (*´・v・) you do come there often after all.
jay: "most of the time i come to nrc only to tell allen-senpai to come back to rsa.."
jay: hm.. i guess so? there's this one student from savanaclaw who i didn't expect to become close with, but he's surprisingly nice even though he looks kinda scary, haha.
jay: .. there's also this one person who i also saw as my sibling figure. he was like a twin to me, to be honest.
jay: i'm not sure if i still want to be associated with him though.
angel: wait, what?? ( °□° ) what does that mean, jay-chan?? please, i need answers-
jay: next question, please.
[ part 3 ]
angel: o-okay.. ahem, if you were to join any dorm other than ujasiri, which dorm would you choose?
jay: .. i don't know.
angel: huh? really? come on, i think you would be perfect for, like, any dorm in this school, jay-chan! (人´∀`*)
angel: you're basically like a prince after all-
jay: hey, angel-senpai, am i really that popular?
jay: i don't have that many friends here, so..
angel: hm.. i heard many people say that they think you're like a perfect rsa student to them! (^▽^)
angel: sure, maybe you can be a bit awkward sometimes and you need to be more confident, but you're smart, polite and very pretty! your unique magic is so fun too! ヽ(´▽`)ノ
jay: .. interesting.
angel: sooooo, which dorm would you go with? (°⌣°) oh, may i suggest spec-
jay: no.
jay: "i've already heard enough from blythe-senpai.."
jay: "just say something already. i want them to leave me alone."
jay: ".. but i want to give an honest answer too.."
jay: um.. enaskota, maybe?
angel: ohhh, makes sense! since you're the smart and curious type and all. (✿◠‿◠)
angel: but sometimes i'm surprised to see just how much you actually don't know about this world. seriously, you look like a lost child sometimes, haha. ヾ(^∇^)
jay: .. haha, yeah, i do have those moments sometimes.
jay: "okay, that's it, i can't stay with this person in the same room. say what you want about allen-senpai, but i'd rather run to him right now."
jay: u-um, angel-senpai, don't you think it's time for the "gift of good fortune"?
jay: or do you have more questions for me?
jay: "i sure hope you don't."
angel: nope, i've only got two of them! (。´∀`)ノ
jay: "what kind of interview is that??"
angel: okay, are you ready then, jay-chan? (。◝‿◜。)
jay: i am. thank you for being my presenter, angel-senpai.
jay: "please, just throw it at me already and let me go!.."
angel: ehehe, okay!~ (σ≧▽≦)σ
angel: happy birthday, jay-chan! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
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annoyinglibra · 11 months
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Having a low body temp is so funny 98.9 is within like regular temp fluctuations for a lot of people but I was like feeling feverish
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arikad0 · 2 years
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another fun fact about Szene: back when I first created her I gave her bangs that covered her eye and said she lost her eye as a lazy way to explain it. that design trait never left. Szene has been missing her eye for over 10 years now
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patrophthia · 6 months
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mini skirt | theodore nott
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 3.5k
genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am
smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing
summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.
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Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.
There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"
Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."
"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"
He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"
You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.
"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."
And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"
"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.
Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."
"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."
His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.
But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.
You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"
His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."
You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."
"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.
"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"
Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."
You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."
"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."
There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"
"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."
It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.
Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.
"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"
"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.
Fuck, Blaise was not lying.
In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"
"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."
It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"
"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."
His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.
He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.
He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"
You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"
And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."
"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."
His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."
Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.
It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.
"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"
Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"
You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"
You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"
Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”
“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”
Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”
Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."
You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.
"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.
Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.
Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."
"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"
"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."
"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.
You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.
His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.
Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.
Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."
Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."
And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.
"Hey, I liked those!"
"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."
"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."
You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."
"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."
" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."
"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."
" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."
Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.
"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."
The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."
"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."
You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”
“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."
And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”
“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”
“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”
“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.
"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"
You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"
“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”
You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"
"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."
Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.
Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.
Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"
Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"
"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."
"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.
"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."
Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."
"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.
"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.
"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"
"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."
"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"
Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.
"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."
Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"
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— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡
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doobea · 5 months
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YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.
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synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.
tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat
MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST
contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO
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Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.
He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him. 
Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.
“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”
Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.
So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere.  The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him. 
“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.
He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster. 
First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.
Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.
“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.
Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.
“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.
Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.
He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine. 
Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”
“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”
Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”
Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”
“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”
The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”
“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”
“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.
“Huh?”
“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”
Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.” 
“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.
If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.
Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.
“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”
He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”
“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?
He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” 
“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”
Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”
By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?
“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.
He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.
You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”
Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”
You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”
And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment? 
Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real. 
“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”
Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”
You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.” 
“Huh?”
Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda. 
By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week. 
“Tired yet, Gojo?”
You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.
Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.
“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”
He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”
“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”
“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction. 
Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.
“Carry me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.” 
He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”
You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”
“Wouldn’t count on that.”
Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even. 
You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.
“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby. 
You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —
“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.
He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.
“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.
You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.
Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout. 
“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.
Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”
“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”
He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”
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Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different. 
Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.
“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”
“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.
“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside. 
And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides? 
When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.
You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”
He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”
“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.  
Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly. 
You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”
“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.
You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”
Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.
“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly. 
He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”
“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.
“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”
“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”
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By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future. 
It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.
Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over. 
“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater. 
“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.
“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.
“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”
“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”
“You treating me like an errand boy?”
Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”
“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.
Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”
There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower. 
“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”
Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.
What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.
His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.
“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.
“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.
Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”
Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.
“Ooh, where to?”
You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”
“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”
That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now. 
“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”
“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”
As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.
“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”
“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out. 
“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise. 
You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.
And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”
That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he? 
Satoru’s not really sure.
It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.
Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.
Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.
On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.
It might not be such a bad idea.
Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize? 
His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people’s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate. 
“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”
Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”
Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”
“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”
He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud. 
He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”
Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”
“What? I haven’t given you—”
“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”
“You called me!”
“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.
“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”
“But my shift doesn’t start till—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”
Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.
Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.
“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.
He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”
The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.
“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...” 
Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”
He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter. 
Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.
And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.
“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this. 
“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”
“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major? 
Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”
Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”
“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”
“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”
“Might’ve?”
“Okay, definitely said something classist.”
“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”
Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”
“Maybe not a date—”
“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”
“You never called me dumb, though?”
“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”
Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.
“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”
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It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.
He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures. 
After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia. 
“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people. 
So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise. 
Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve. 
It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard. 
Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”
To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”
And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”
A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests. 
“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?” 
And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt. 
“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”
Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”
Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos. 
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“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”
“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby. 
It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.
“Choso?”
He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”
Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took. 
You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”
And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.
Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”
Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”
Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”
You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”
He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”
“You finally want to talk about it?”
He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes. 
The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky. 
“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.
I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.
But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart. 
Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between. 
You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.
Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.
Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.
“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.
You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.
“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”
Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”
“Will you say no if it is?”
He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”
Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.
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© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
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lqvesoph · 7 months
Text
Baby Fever - LN4
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landonorris x fem!reader
summary: summer vacation with lando and his family, especially his little nieces have got you feeling a certain desire
warnings: a bit of kissing but apart from that just fluff
part two
masterlist | taglist
"Baby, look!", Lando called from a distance. You slowly opened your eyes and sat up, having laid spread out on a tanning bed, enjoying the warm spanish sun gracing your body.
Your boyfriend held his niece Mila in his arms, or better said, on his shoulders. The little girl let out squeaks of laughters, especially when Lando crouched down a little and stretched his legs again.
An unfamiliar feeling tugged at your heart and a warmth that definitely wasn’t from the sun spread inside of you.
Mila squealed a little. "You wanna get down?", Lando asked softly, and she nodded so he placed her gently on the yacht deck.
The little girl walked closer to the edge of the yacht, making Lando react quickly and snatch her into his arms again. "Heyyy careful, darling", he mumbled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Swim!", Mila called out and pointed to the ocean.
"Of course we can go swim but you need your floats", Lando genteel explained and stroke his fingers over her back. The little girl nodded and looked around for her mum. "Let’s go find your mummy to ask her where she put them last time", he said, sending you a quick smile before disappearing.
You couldn’t whipe the smile off your face even if you wanted to. Seeing the way Lando interacted with his niece made you incredibly soft.
Only a few minutes later Lando "ran" back to your side of the yacht with Mila chasing after him. One quick glance told you, he held her floats in his hands.
He fell to the floor when she caught him and lifted her on his torso, making the girl giggle loudly.
"Baby help!", Lando called out for you between laughters and you shook your head with a grin on your face but got up from the bed and crouched down next to the two of them.
"Tie-Tie", Mila giggle when she saw you, her nickname for you based on "Auntie" which she still struggled to pronounce so Tie-Tie it was.
"Hello, darling", you smiled and poked her side a little. "Want me to help you with your floats?" She nodded and held one of the pink floats out for you to take. With her still sitting on Lando’s torso you put on both of her floats before lifting her up and placing her on the deck. Together you walked over to the edge of the yacht but before you could safely enter the water with the little girl, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, body checking you into the ocean.
You let out a scream, trying to wriggle out of Lando’s arms underwater to catch some air. "I hate you!", you called, slapping your boyfriends’ shoulders before placing your hands on his shoulder and putting weight on them to dunk him into the water again.
From the boat you could hear Mila’s giggles while she was watching the two of you.
You swam closer again, motioning her that it’s safe to jump into your arms. "Come here. Close your eyes and jump", you encouraged the little girl and smiled when she did as you said.
Lando had swum closer to you in the meantime, wrapping an arm around your waist so you wouldn’t have to kick your feet as hard to hold yourself up. You placed one arm around Lando’s shoulders and leaned in for a second.
"I love watching you interact with her", you mumbled while both of you were watching Mila having fun in the water. Lando smiled and turned his head to you to press a short kiss on your lips.
You let your hand that wasn’t wrapped around him absently wander underneath the water until you felt his hard chest, from there on you traveled along his torso.
The deeper your hand went the shorter became Lando’s breaths. "Baby…", he muttered warningly. "Hm?", you asked, focus still on Mila. "I really love it when you’re feeling me up, don’t get me wrong, but maybe not when we have to watch my niece swimming in the ocean", he muttered and you quickly moved your hand. A surprised look grazed your face before you chuckled.
"I swear that wasn’t my intention", you laughed. "You know how comforting I find it to trace your body."
Lando crackled and placed a kiss on your lips.
"Hey watch the kid, dickhead. You can make out later!", you heard Max call and saw Pietra approaching behind him as well. Lando held up his middle finger as a response.
"Lando, darling! The food is ready!", his mum called before spotting the three of you in the ocean. "Well hurry up", she smiled nodding towards the rooms.
"Mila, honey, come on Grannie cooked!", Lando called and swam over to Mila to bring her back to the boat and lifted her out of the water.
You watched the two of them and swam closer to the boat as well. Lando was already sitting on the edge of the yacht and waited for you. Dopplets of water dripping down on his bare skin.
He gave you his hand to pull you up next to him. You pushed a few wet strands of his hair back and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. Lando’s hands rested on top of your thighs and smiled into the kiss.
He laid his forehead against yours, still staying close to you.
"Come on, let’s go", he muttered, pulling you up to your feet and leading you to your room.
Dripping wet Lando stood in front of the small closet, trying to figure out what to wear. You moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his naked torso, putting your cheek against his shoulders.
"I love you with Mila", you mumbled. Lando chuckled. "You tell me that quite often, baby", he said, placing his hands over yours on his stomach. "It’s true. You’re perfect with her", you smiled, pressing a light kiss to his right shoulder.
Lando turned around and leaned down to you and gently started kissing your lips, his hands moving from your shoulders down to your waist and pulled you in closer.
He moved you back a little until the back of your knees hit the bed. "We shouldn’t-", you muttered but allowed Lando to put you on the bed. "I thought you said you like me with children", Lando smiled, moving down between your bikini covered breast.
You giggles softly and pushed your hands in his curls. "I do, I totally do", you sighed as he places gentle kisses to your skin. You tapped his back a few times. "Come on, get up. Your mum’s made food", you said, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "What? I thought we can practice a little?", Lando whined. You let out a laugh and pushed him off you to the other side of the bed.
You got up and quickly exchanged your wet bikini for a dry one, hearing a groan from Lando behind you.
"You can’t say we can’t have sex and then proceed to undress in front of me!", he complained, making grabby hands to signal you to come back to bed. You laughed and took his hands but instead of getting in the bed with him you pulled him up into a sitting position. "Get changed and maybe later", you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before throwing on your white sundress and leaving Lando to get changed.
Upstairs his family had already gathered around the table. Even Mila was faster at getting changed than Lando.
"Lando will be up in a second", you excused your boyfriend, only earning a joking eye roll from his older brother Oliver. "Don’t worry, we know what he’s like", Cisca chuckled and nodded to the two empty seats next to Pietra and Max.
After lunch you went back to the book you were reading prior to your little ocean trip. Lando’s head rested on your naked stomach, his arms around you and his eyes closed. You were sure he wasn’t actually sleeping and only relaxing a little as he’s been tracing your waist with his fingers.
A few minutes later, Mila waddled closer and tapped Lando’s back a few times. "Uncle Lan!", she called, making Lando open his eyes. "Let’s play!!"
Lando murmured something inaudible and snuggles closer into your stomach. You signaled Mila to climb on Lando’s legs.
Your boyfriend jokingly whined, lifting his niece up and turning around between your legs so his back was resting against your stomach.
Right then Sav walked out from downstairs, Athena in her arms. She immediately smiled when she saw the three of you.
"You look adorable!", she called out, walking closer to you. "Wait a second", Lando’s sister in law said before handing Lando his littlest niece.
He gently took her from Sav’s arms and crawled her safely into his arms. Mila was sitting between Lando’s legs, who sat between yours.
Savannah smiled and pulled out her phone quickly. "Let me take a picture of you”, she smiled, snapping a few pictures.
"My uterus can’t take this", you whined into Lando’s ear and pointed at the small baby girl in his arms and the other toddler in front of him. Lando broke out in a fit of laughter before turning his head to whisper something into your ear.
"Wanna practice?", Lando grinned smugly, causing you to hit his upper arm. "There are children around!", you hissed which made Lando only crackle.
part 2
taglist
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luveline · 17 days
Text
—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k
You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.
You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.
It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.
I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.
Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.
You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.
You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—
“Hi.”
You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.
“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.
Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.
(He’s wearing glasses!)
You’d thought he was pretty before.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”
You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.
He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”
“You think so?” you ask, surprised.
“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”
You send Hotch anything he wants to see.
“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”
You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”
He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”
“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”
You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”
Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”
You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.
“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.
“Come on, there has to be something.”
His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”
“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”
You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.
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riality-check · 9 months
Text
Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.
But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.
Steve very much did not need to know that.
With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.
He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.
Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.
So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.
“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.
“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.
The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.
A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.
And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.
“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”
“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”
“We already have the axe!”
“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”
“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”
Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.
“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”
“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.
“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”
“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”
“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.
“You gotta give him context.”
“No, I don’t, Jeff.”
The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.
“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.
“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”
“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”
Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”
Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.
Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"
"Anna," she says.
"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"
"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."
"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.
Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."
"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."
Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.
"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.
Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”
“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.
Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.
It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.
It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.
Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-
Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.
Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.
He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"
She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.
Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"
"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.
"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.
"Like dancing?"
"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."
"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"
Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.
"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."
"Sorry," Eddie whispers.
"Don't be."
Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."
"Anna," Steve cautions.
"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.
Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"
"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.
Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.
By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.
Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.
When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.
"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"
"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but you-"
"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.
"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.
Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.
Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.
"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."
"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"
"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"
Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."
The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.
Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.
Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.
He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.
He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.
Whatever that means.
Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.
He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.
It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.
It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.
Shit.
(Part 2 is alive!!)
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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months
Text
[ RIDE ] for the taller muse to give the shorter one a piggyback ride so they don’t have to keep up.
↳Alastor
A/n: I got asked to write more Tol & smol prompts for Alastor / reader so here it is.
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You loved your walks with Alastor is what you would say if the man wasn't so fucking tall. You tended to pass out the moment you both got back to his studio due to being so tired thanks so how short your legs were.
It was easy for him with being how tall he was, it was a breeze for him but for you. You had to practically run to keep up with him. You swore he took some pleasure in this, maybe it was due to the fact that he could slaughter any demon's that came near you as you trail behind.
Yet this walk seemed different, you were starting to trail behind him. Your chest heaving but just as you were about to complain you ran into his back. Nearly falling on your ass you had to grasp his jacket to make sure you wouldn't fall.
"Why did you stop?"
"Why do you insist on coming on these walks if you can barely keep up?"
Licking your lips, you were trying to decipher how he was feeling. "Um, because you seem to like it Alastor? And I like it when you're happy. That's what you do for people you like right? Do things you don't like?"
Alastor stiffened, he was still doing his best to get used the affection you gave him. This was still foreign to him but it wasn't bad. Slowly turning to face you, he cleared out his throat as he tucked his nail beneath your chin. "You are just oh so adorable...your little legs remind me of a rabit."
Feeling warmth rush to your cheeks, you shivered from the sound of his voice as you lent into his touch feeling his fingers run through your hair until he yanked you to your feet. "W-what are you doing?"
"You're far too slow! So I am giving you a little ride, you can thank me later little rabbit." The static in his voice held a teasing edge as he helped you settle on his back.
Sighing, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck as Alastor stood. A small squeak escaped your lips as he started to walk. "T-Thank you"
"Oh you don't need to thank me doll, your smile is rather infectious. I could hardly say no to you." He teased giving your leg a squeeze.
While you knew the demon couldn't see your face, you still hid it in the crook of his neck. Not saying anything, you opted to keep your mouth shut. You'll figure out a way to thank him.
Once you got back to his room that is.
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mclqren · 2 months
Text
MAKE A WISH ★ CL16
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!childhood friend!reader
SUMMARY ✦ you and charles have been friends since you were little kids, and each year without fail charles posts you on your birthday, unknowingly marking the milestones of your relationship [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ none, i think!
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ reader grew up in monaco. i tried to use old-ish pictures to mark the time period he was posting her from! this one's a bit on the shorter side because i only included charles' perspective of posting her. the fc i've used is cindy kimberly, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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2017
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liked by yourusername, user1, and 14,192 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc happy birthday to my very best friend! can't believe we've been friends for more than ten years, time flies by when you're having fun! love you y/n, have the best day ❤️
view all comments
yourusername awww charlieee!!
yourusername this is the sweetest omg
yourusername thank god you didn't use that crusty photo of me you threatened to use...
user1 okay now we haveee to see it
yourusername NOOO NEVERRR
yourusername thank you sm love you!!💘
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
user2 scrolled so far down i managed to find these old gems of y/n 🤣
user3 stop they're acc so cute i can't
user4 the way this is the point where they relationship was just so sweet and innocent is so heartwarming to me
user5 also before charles got slowly more and more whipped with each post he made
2018
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liked by yourusername, user6, and 67,256 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc Y/N!! another year of us being friends, and another year where i have to put up with your awful dad jokes & incapability of cooking 🤣🤣 still, wouldn't have it any other way! love you y/n ❤️
view all comments
yourusername stoppp that cat was sooo cute
charles_leclerc ur cuter 😘
user6 THE BLATANT FLIRTING HELLOOOO??
yourusername birthday wishes much appreciated charles!! thank youuu 💘💘
charles_leclerc why so formal??
yourusername idk just felt like it ❤️
yourusername i literally can cook idk what you mean
charles_leclerc you almost burnt down my apartment??
yourusername intentional. 😊
user7 is that his girlfriend???
user8 nooo his childhood best friend from monaco!!
user9 well not yet anyways 🤷‍♀️
yourusername NOT THE BANGSSS IT WAS A DARK TIME OKAY
user10 Y/N REVISITING THIS IS SO FUNNY
yourusername NO STOPP WHAT WAS I THINKING.
2019
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liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel, and 102,441 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc hopefully the getaway to italy was enough of a birthday present for you 😘 happy birthday y/n! no one else i'd rather eat crappy pizza with ❤️
view all comments
user11 TELL ME HOW THEY'RE NOT DATINGG
user12 omg she is absolutely STUNNING!!
yourusername CHARLIEEE IT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH
user13 she seems like such a sweetheart
yourusername the flowers were so beautiful oh my
charles_leclerc you have no clue how long it took me to find them 🤣🤣❤️
user14 GET TOGETHER ALREADYY
sebastianvettel 👀👀
user15 SEB IS HERE!!
user16 what on earth can this man know
2020
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 274,928 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc happy birthday to the craziest cat lady i know!! 🐈‍⬛ thanks for supporting me through my ups and downs, and staying with me during this crazy journey! the best person to ever have by my side ❤️
view all comments
user17 oh so he's in love.
user18 RIGHTTT
yourusername you can NEVERRR take me away from cats!!
charles_leclerc as a dog person this hurts
yourusername idc deal with it eclair!!
user19 crazy cat lady x dog guy >>>>
yourusername love you charlie 💘💘
user20 CHARLIE HAS ME WEAKKK
user21 if this man doesn't want her I DOOO PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE Y/N
user22 looking back on this in 2024 it's actually sooo obvious idk how (some) of us didn't see it
2021
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 451,002 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc forever thankful that my mama made me play with my (annoying) new neighbour when i was 7 years old 🤣❤️ happy birthday y/n, hope it's the best one yet!
view all comments
user23 HOW IS SHE SO PRETTYYY
user24 more y/n content asap pleaseeee
yourusername exploring spain w you was sooo much fun & the tour guide was great asw! @/carlossainz55 😉😉
carlossainz55 it was my pleasure! ❤️❤️
user25 PLS SAY THEY ARENT DATINGGG I WANT CHARLES & Y/N
yourusername omg no he's in a long term relationship & i'm not at all interested 😭😭
user26 charles x y/n is still possible then!!
yourusername not the picture of me and the sushi 🤣 my one true love!
charles_leclerc i think you prefer the sushi to me
yourusername you'd be right!!
user27 wait guys i'm a new fan who is this??
user28 y/n l/n!! she's charles' childhood best friend from monaco (and we're all 99% sure they're in love)
2022
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 729,090 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc the only person who continually manages to pull off white regardless of the weather ☀️ happiest of birthdays to you y/n! love you more each year ❤️
view all comments
user29 JUST ADMIT IT UR IN LOVEEEE
user30 L-O-V-E
user31 hey alexa play you are in love by taylor swift (listen until it gets in ur head pls!)
user32 literally: "pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was, he is in love"
yourusername I LOVE YOU 💘
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
user33 they're lovers, your honor.
yourusername don't get in the way of me and one direction
pierregasly are they not over??
yourusername SHUT UP GASLY IM IN DENIALLL
user34 she's truly one of us!!
2023
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liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and 1,033,994 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc my very best friend and now, i can officially say, the woman i am very much in love with. happy birthday y/n - thanks for putting up with me all these years ❤️❤️
view all comments
user35 CHARLES X Y/N CONFIRMEDDD
user36 THE CAPTION?? THEY ADMITTED THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER IM CRYING
user37 AND THE LAST PICTURE?? I LOVE THEMMMM
yourusername my love forever 💘💘
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
user38 parents pls adopt me i beg
yourusername THE FIRST PIC HELP i did NOT think you'd post that
charles_leclerc why wouldnt i 🤷‍♂️
francisca.cgomes what are you doing with MY WIFE 😖
yourusername idk PLEASE come pick me up baby he's annoying me sm rn ❤️❤️
francisca.cgomes dw on my way rn 🙏
pierregasly oh???
charles_leclerc it would seem we've been replaced, pierre!
2024
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,801,332 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc MY girlfriend!! happy birthday y/n l/n; 14 year old me would be very happy to call the girl he'd been in love with since a kid his girlfriend ❤️
view all comments
yourusername 14 year old me would be screaming crying throwing up right about now, if it's any consolation
charles_leclerc 🤣🤣❤️
user39 THE WAY THEY LOVED EACH OTHER AS KIDS ASW I CANT
user40 the definition of soulmates i can't
user41 PARENTSSS
user42 i need to find me someone who loves me the way charles loves y/n
yourusername in all realness though kika is my gf sooo idk what the caption is about buddy!
francisca.cgomes righttt?? 😘😘
charles_leclerc so should i change the caption orrr?
yourusername NOO i have to flex my relationship somehow 🤷‍♀️
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2K notes · View notes
matchamiko · 2 months
Text
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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Lucky Undies
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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Warnings: oral sex ( f -> receiving) m.masturbation, mentions height difference (reader implied shorter than Aizawa), reader implied big belly, thighs + ass (ie. not skinny), prev. established relationship, sooooo self-indulgent don’t look at me
₊˚⊹ ᰔ Note: disgusted with myself honestly.
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“What are those?”
You stop in your tracks, toothbrush lodged in your cheek and foam threatening to drip down your chin.
Aizawa stands behind you in the bathroom doorway, eyes trained dark on the tug of your sleep shirt over your ass. Spitting into the skin, bending lower and offering more of a view, you finish washing your mouth with heat all over your face,
“I didn’t have anything else clean, s’all I got,” you explain yourself, eyes connecting with his in the mirror,
“And they’re your last resort because?” Arms folded over his broad chest sprayed with dark hair, Aizawa cocks his hip against the doorway, eyes never leaving the peak of your asscheek from beneath the t-shirt. It’s his and it’s soft and he offered it to you on your first sleepover years ago, a little tighter round the middle now but still long enough to pass as a nightie.
“They don’t fit!” You resort with embarrassment, “they pinch my hips and they go up my butt ‘nd roll down my belly if I bend down or even move,” you feel as though there’s steam hissing from your ears, suddenly regretting even putting on the offending underwear. You’d miscounted your laundry days and found yourself wearing either silky lingerie or old high legged cheeky style undies that were a very adorable baby pink and sported a little red rose at the front. Usually you wore comfortable high rise with a trusty band and often times sensible colours so to not show through your chosen trousers or skirts of the day. Maybe you’d wear a thong if you felt adventurous but comfort was key in your relationship with underwear, and being with Aizawa for so long helped you not only explore that a little bit but also enabled you to stay comfortable without judgement or ridicule.
And Aizawa liked your plain underwear, didn’t care much for it really because all he often wanted was them off or not even on in the first place. Complaining about his partners choice in underwear was beneath him; he’s a man, he’s mature and he’d much rather eat your pussy than muse over what’s covering it.
But these? He’s not seen these before.
“Cute,” he says with a gravelly voice, stalking forwards slowly, “you look cute,”
Biting your lip, you shake your head,
“I’ll just put some gym shorts on and do a quick wash, s’stupid to even try to do anything in these,” you grumble dejectedly, turning and even in your limited movements, the seam tugs over your cheek and makes you cringe.
But Aizawa is as sturdy as he is stubborn, a wall preventing you from leaving and a large hand sits heavy and inviting on your hip.
“I said you look cute,” he says pointedly, “not just the underwear, but you in general, seeing your skin makes me - desperate,”
That hand smoothes under your sleep shirt, fingering the thin, stretchy band of the panties with a heavy breath in his chest. The harder he pulls the band, the higher up your hip they go and the further up your -
“They’re just panties Shouta,” you blink up at him, leaning closer to ease his fondling, “stupid uncomfable panties that is,”
“Shh,” Aizawa kisses you quiet, a peck to keep you satisfied while his other hand drifts over to your ass, fisting the fat and spreading you meanly, “just - lemme look for a sec,”
His eyes catch the flash of your asshole in the mirror, panties caught taught and high over your ass and he groans low and deep from his belly. You clear your throat and whimper when he buries his face into your neck, teeth scraping the delicate skin there. Then - his hand rounds to your stomach, fiddling with the little silky rose before tickling the exposed skin of your belly from where the panties had dislodged and folded down.
He doesn’t often explore you this selfishly, having listened to your qualms and insecurities over your body, doing it to prove that no weight could distance him from desiring your body. But he touches you with a filthy selfish agenda and filthier moans.
Thick fingers tease you over the fabric, slippery with your arousal, sliding between your folds and circling your clit with loud little click. It’s shameful how turned on you are at his exploration of your underwear, but he’s no better; hard and heavy and leaking against your hip. ‘Nd when you look down, mewling at the thick forearm jammed between your cushiony thighs, you can see the flushed tip of his cock peaking from the sagging waistband of his underwear, black and tight and baring a hole just above the seam on his thigh.
And suddenly you understand exactly how Aizawa feels with you in underwear he’s never seen before. Because those are boxers you bought him three christmases ago and are also a result of not doing laundry often enough. And when you look up at him with your hand squeezing him through the thin fabric; your shameful desperation is reflected in his eyes.
All too suddenly, Aizawa is on his knees and your lower back is cradled uncomfortably against the bathroom counter, and he’s all up between your thighs with devastating groans and grunts.
“Taste’s fuckin’ divine,” his tongue is hot and so wet against the gusset of your underwear, pulled tight over your cunt and practically frothing with how aroused you are. One hand cups your ass and spreads you, the other is crude and sharply tugging on his cock. At the taste of you. At the smell of you. Nipping your clit through the fabric and sucking hard enough to send you shuddering and shaking right down to your toes.
“Shouta ! S’too much !” You grip the top of his head, hair tangled from sleep but the tugging of the knots seem to encourage him, groaning into your cunt and huffing deep agonising breaths against your pubis. You’re on your tiptoes, one leg lifting a little even to give him space and Aizawa shuffles closer on his knees, haphazardly throwing your leg over his broad, sinewy shoulder.
It’s almost like the sensations are muted, dulled through the thin fabric of your panties. But they’re still there and you fumble with your shirt for a moment before lifting it and tucking the hem beneath your chin so you can look down, down at your boyfriend so eagerly and so messily slurping at your pussy.
He’s feral like this, eyes fluttering and nose pressed hard into your clit, tongue trying to rip through into you but failing miserably. Or not, as it seems that wasn’t his goal, simply content with tasting you through the panties that had entrapped him so suddenly. You couldn’t even feel confused and weird at his random bout of arousal over your too-small panties, too thrummed with pleasure and the shivers of an orgasm to really deep dive it.
It rears its head slowly, but with a strength you’d yet to experience before. All suction and desperate licks, moans and grunts vibrating you just enough to send you jerking into his mouth. Hips moving on their own, tits falling from the grasp of your shirt and shuddering with your movements. Your underwear slips and tugs harshly as you grind through your orgasm, pulled taught only by Aizawa’s insistent tongue and fingers. He seemed to have given up on his own pleasure, or got enough from watching and tasting you, both hands clutching your thighs around his head.
“Let up, oh my god, give me a sec Shouta,” you’re still panting hard, limbs boneless and belly throbbing with every aftershock, cunt fluttering against the sodden and stained panties, “you’re such a - now I really don’t have anything to wear today,”
Your words die from a telling off to a small sigh at the sight of him, drunk on the sight and taste of you. His eyes are heavy, mouth open and shining with your spend, cheeks flushed and chest heaving,
“Good news for me then,” he stands with a grunt, coming in close enough for you to smell the remnants of your orgasm on his lower face - but he doesn’t kiss you. Instead massaging your hips and the tangled band of your underwear, “I’m having you on my face next, ‘nd keep these on,”
He’s a pervert really, snapping the band and making you tut in disapproval. But as you follow him into the bedroom with a sheepish grin and nervous lust building in your chest; you realise you are too, for letting him indulge in this and letting him.
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all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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satoruhour · 8 months
Note
Gojo would make such pretty noises if he gets a BJ as he’s waking up
a/n: anon u r so real for this !!!!!!!!! i conquered my 2k essay! but also doin a shorter req bc i got distracted by changing themes and it’s late lol / @jabamin @hannzai @shotorus
warnings: fem!reader, consensual somnophilia, sort of subby gojo but not very established, pet names, oral (m! receiving), finger / thumb sucking, deepthroating, multiple rounds, spitting, sloppy bj sort of, this is what i think he would sound like hehe, n*sfw under the cut
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gojo’s always known he’s the most sensitive in the morning. before you, he’s settled for his hand, feeling around his centre when he wakes up hard and slips his hand under his boxers where it pumps slowly at his shaft. the orgasm always comes too fast and unsatisfactory, though, done more out of necessity than pleasure.
but you? he finds that he never wants to go back to his hand ever again. you treat him like everything good in the world, both with your soft demeanour and your pretty cunt, all for him and yet not at the same time. you’re so pliant and receptive to his touches and still, you have your own agency; you are your own person. that’s what he admires about you.
you infiltrate his dreams like a temptress, heat forming between his legs as he cuddles closer into what he thinks is your figure. there’s fire all over his body and his hairs stand and the trails the blaze leaves seem like fingers. they span his body, heart rate speeding up and he wishes he hadn’t buried his body in the sheets last night. they want to move, but satoru is locked down by sleep and your wandering hands.
“’toru . .” gojo moans at the soft voice that whispers his name in his dreams, unaware you’re doing the exact thing. you’re already drooling at the half-hard bulge that pokes out from below his underwear, clinging to his skin and darkening in colour with each trail of your finger along his body.
so sensitive . .
here, gojo looks as splendid as the morning tokyo sun even if the weather outside struggled to stay stable. the clouds soon hover over the city, pouring down light raindrops and the drop in temperature only makes your boyfriend whine again.
you poke a manicured nail to his length that twitches on its own, pressing and prodding with it and enjoy the soft sounds that escape his lips each time. “baby”, ”princess”, it’s a different name each time for satoru always enjoys referring to you with pet names, and the low raspiness of it only pushes your resolve further—
“it’s okay, sweets, you know you have access to my body. i trust you.”
even with your boyfriend’s authority, you’re still unsure shown in the way your hands hesitantly pull at his underwear. you’re snapped out of your dilemma when a drawled whimper leaves him, whiny and high-pitched in nature that it sends chills down your whole body. there are murmurs of your name on his lips, lingering like the sugary sweets and the saccharine of your kisses. the cold air is simply too much for his sensitive cock, and gojo’s hips buck in cute little jerks.
his length and girth always takes you by surprise no matter how many times you see it, but it feels just a little different when you’re the one to fish it out yourself. satoru is just so hard, pink mushroom tip leaking pre-cum all over his pelvis and a curve to his dick in wanton need.
you let out a breath when your soft hands wrap around his length, at the same gojo sucks in a breath in his sleep — if that was even possible — and tenses his thighs. in his dream you’re doing more than whatever you were doing right now, imagining your pussy wrapped around his throbbing cock.
but you like it slow. your hands drag themselves across his shaft, stroking slowly just to allow him to fully harden and gojo starts to kick his legs slightly, hands have begun to clutch uncomfortably at the sheets. your head lowers to his tip, blowing lightly at the sensitive area and it almost gets him waking completely from unconsciousness. wrecked moans and whines continue to weasel themselves out of his throat, brows knitted and mouth in a temporary ‘o’.
“satoru,” you call, with no intent behind it rather than just wanted to feel the syllables roll against your tongue, “satoruuu . .”
but the mission last night takes a good amount of toll on him. you stick out your tongue to kitten lick his weeping tip and your lover jolts in your hands yet again. it’s so adorable, seeing the normally confident man plead, and he wasn’t even conscious.
“y—yess . .?” you’re unsure if he’s sleep-talking or if he’s really awake but you press on. your mouth suckles on the tip like a pacifier, teasing the most sensitive part of his cock. there, you swirl your tongue around, hands still pumping lazily. gojo’s voice cracks on the next moan, reality sinking in on him bit by bit. you’re relentless, tonguing your muscle along frenulum and around.
and then when you look up, you can see a pair of drowsy eyelids open, looking with his blue eyes through the whiteness of his lashes. it feels like he wasn’t of this world, the initial confusion morphing into recognition and then pleasure —
“ohh . . f-fuuuckk . . ” gojo’s voice shakes as you then descend upon his shaft, warm mouth encompassing every inch of his cock until your nose buries itself in his pubes. the loud moan satoru lets out only makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, sure that your hips were grinding into the sheets. “a-always take my cock so well, shit.”
he’s normally reduced to a state of non-verbality in the morning, but he seems to still have some adrenaline from last night’s mission. gojo’s head meets with the pillow below him, stuck between enjoying how fucking hot your mouth feels versus watching you take all of him down your throat.
you start to bob your head, the gurgling noises along his throbbing length only adding to the lewdness of the scene. he lovingly trails his hand through your locks, brushing back stray hair that interferes with you. they continue to do that (his love knows no ends), undoing the knots in your hair while you uncoil the familiar feeling in his tummy. “baby, baby, baby—”gojo’s eyes squeezes shut and his chest heaves needily with lined sweat, neck straining just to catch a glimpse of how you deep-throat him. your fingers grasp onto his thighs so harshly that they would probably bruise.
you’re keeping eye contact as you come up to breathe while gojo’s hand who took refuge in your hair switches its sanctuary to your face. his heart and dick jumps when you lean into the touch, both your hooded lids matching each other before his thumb runs over your bottom lip. in the rainy morning, you can exchange words without saying anything; you just know satoru that well.
gojo’s thumb traces the softness of your lips before he dips it inside and you take the finger into your mouth willingly, sucking intently as you make the strongest weaker and weaker by you, alone. all he does is spiral, moans transforming into little whines at how you suck on his thumb and it’s off — because then after your mouth closes in around his cock again and he swears so loud it probably reaches the neighbours.
“mmfuuuck—! o-oh my god—” your head bobs again, tongue running along the underside of his cock each time you do, hands moving along the places where you can’t reach and the moans that fill your ears only gets needier and needier. “princess i’m gonna— pleaseplease—!”
gojo has that split second to prop himself up just so he can see you take his cum down your throat, a hand holding your head in place alongise a makeshift ponytail. but your mouth mimics your pussy so well, wrapped snugly around him that he has no time to warn you before he’s cumming deep into your mouth. you jerk in surprise before moaning at the feeling, letting him spurt ropes of cum down your throat as your pace slows down.
“c’mon . . let me see, pretty girl,” satoru assists you in coming off of his cock, and the white in your mouth spills out almost instantly. “aaattagirl . .” your boyfriend grins his infamous lazy morning grin that makes your heart do flips, faltering just a bit when you let his seed drip down your tongue and back onto his dick.
“s’much cum, satoru.” you mumble, intoxicated, fingers connected by strings of his cum and you gather saliva mixed with cum to spit onto his shaft and the gesture is so hot that he needs to see you do it again, and you indulge him — you push out saliva past your lips, a long string before he finally meets his sensitive tip again.
gojo reaches heaven a second time when your hands pick up pace again, slick noises now filling his ears.
“want more.”
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bro it’s like i forgot how to write 😭😭
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