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tojirights · 2 months

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❛ you taste like heaven. ❜

Alastor with angel!reader omg. I imagine that reader was Alastor's wife back when they were alive, but didn't see eachother again after death because Alastor is in hell and reader is in heaven. I imagine that after Sir Pentious got redeemed, Sera sent reader (because she has experience with demons(? Ur choice) and Sera trusts her a lot) down to hell to investigate this 'hazbin hotel'.

a/n: AHHHH i almost didnt want to write smut into this because it was so precious 😭 ooc alastor again but its so CUTE. i added my "alastor speaks french" agenda to this as well lol.

buy me a coffee? 😇

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, fem! receiving oral

heaven was in shambles after the last extermination, no one knew what would happen next now that souls could be redeemed from hell. it was then that sera approached you in private, all but begging you to go be an "ambassador." you were hesistant at first, not only thinking that this was a lot of responsibility, but also that your... husband had to be down there. he wasn't a "good man" after all, but your heart still fluttered at the thought of seeing him once more. with a sigh, you accept sera's plea and prepare for your trip down to the hazbin hotel.

there to greet you, was charlie morningstar herself, bright eyed and bubbly just like you heard all about. she leads you into the foyer of the hotel before you stop dead in your tracks. charlie is still speaking a mile a minute in your ear, trying to welcome you as best she can, but you're not listening. your eyes meet alastor's, immediately recognizing him even in this new form of his. and when his smile almost fades, you know he recognizes you too.

there's another brief pause before you're running towards him, your wings unfurling on their own as you're quickly wrapped up in his embrace. the other inhabitants of the hotel watch, confused, seeing as alastor hasn't really let anyone but niffty get close enough to touch him, let alone embrace him. your wings fluff up and cover your faces as you lean up to kiss your estranged partner. "oohh, sweetheart.." he sighs against your lips. "its been..."

you smile between kisses, your heart racing in your chest. "too long." you finish his sentence, earning a chuckle from the demon. his lips kiss a trail to your ear, a low growl to his voice as he whispers to you. "you taste like heaven, darling." your cheeks go red, not quite prepared for such a comment, especially in front of company. "alastor!" you hiss, hitting his chest gently but he just pulls you closer in response.

finally, he addresses the group behind you who are all standing with their jaws hanging open. "now, if you're all done gawking, i believe my wife needs to be shown around..."

husk spits out his drink as alastor speaks, covering angel in alcohol. "your WHAT!?" you hide your face as calamity ensues, everyone trying to speak over eachother at the insane news. "your wife... is an angel?" charlie asks gently, trying to get to the bottom of this. "well, i couldn't have known for sure but she was always more a saint than i." alastor hums, running his hand down your back. you shudder when he touches your wings, to which he notes in his head for later.

"o-oh! well then! i guess you should show her around, yeah?" she smiles bashfully, still taken aback by everything happening since your arrival just a few minutes ago. you look up at alastor, your cheeks aching from smiling so wide. "i think i'd like that." you whisper to him, enjoying the way he pulls you closer to him. "hold on tight then, my love."

you're not sure what he means by that until you're slipping into the shadows with him. its an odd feeling, but you don't think much of it until you're reappearing in what you assume is his bedroom. alastor is careful with you, like he's afraid the wrong touch will burn you, but he craves the feeling of your bare skin against his hands more than he can admit. you smile, reaching your hands up to cup his face. "touch me, al. i'm not fragile..."

your words light a spark deep within him, forcing him to restrain himself from ripping your pretty clothes into tatters. he groans inwardly, large hands reaching around to pick you up before fumbling his way to the bed. "corrupting an angel wasn't on my bucket list until seeing you again, my dear." his tone, its not what you're used to hearing, but that gravelly undertone shoots straight through you. "oh please, you can't corrupt me more than you already have." alastor's lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you feel him smirk.

"i hope that's not a challenge." he tests, tugging at the hem of your dress. you all but giggle, lifting up so alastor can free your body of clothes. "and what if is it?" you challenge, knowing full well that alastor wouldn't let your teasing continue without proper punishment. his eyes darken red, and there's a tinge of fear in your gut. because this may still be alastor, but its been quite a while, you don't know how he's changed.

but as he kisses down your stomach, you're reassured that the man you married is still there somewhere, underneath this 'radio demon' persona. "your lips tasted of heaven, mon amour, does this taste so sweet as well?" alastor's words alone are enough are enough to make you whimper, then the feeling of his hot breath against your clothed cunt makes your core pulse.

your hands naturally fall to the top of his head, feeling the softness of his ears and the rough points of his antlers. "c-can i..?" you start, timidly holding onto the horns. alastor's body shudders as he shoves his face into your thigh. "yes, ma chérie. please do." he breathes, tugging on the thin fabric of your panties until they rip in half.

alastor wants to be patient, wants to treat you like the angel you are, but he is a demon after all. and he hasn't gotten such a delicious meal in far too long. after he feels your grip tighten on his antlers, he lets loose his self control. his first taste of your sweet pussy sends him into a frenzy, eating you like a man starving. his tongue swipes up your slit before circling your clit in quick flicks. your legs are shaking already, breathy moans leaving your lips with reckless abandon.

there's a part of you that is concerned to be getting your cunt ate by a demon, but this demon was your husband, after all. sera made you come down here and you might as well enjoy yourself, right?

your hips arch up, craving more and more, and alastor is happy to oblige. "this is heaven, my dear. not some palace in the sky, but here, between your legs." your eyes well with tears, overwhelmed in more ways than one. every pass of his tongue has your release teetering on the edge while his sweet words make your heart flutter. its almost too much, and when alastor sucks on your clit, your walls burst.

"a-alastor i'm..." you mewl, every nerve on your body screaming as your orgasm rolls over you. you're almost sure you're hurting him by how hard you tug at his hair, but alastor doesn't stop. the intensity is something you've not experienced in many, many years, and the tears stream down your cheeks. alastor coaxes you through it, licking slow and soft circles around your sensitive bud until your shaking stops.

he's quick to climb up, wiping the tears from your puffy eyes. "such a good girl, mon amour. there's plenty more where that came from."

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riaki · 5 months

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nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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sanjisblackasswife · 10 months

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𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕒𝕤 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕘𝕒𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪

New series alert because i made all the jjk men hcs too long for one post lmao

Bad Summary: HC’s of JJK Men as your SD.

Cw: Mentions of sex, Petnames, Age differences off the wazoo(i.e. reader is around 19-22 and he is over 40)

SFW

Sugar Daddy Gojo treats you like his best friend with benefits

Him. He’s giving you all the benefits.

He was simply too hard to ignore

Coming to your cafe everyday ordering the same thing followed by a

“And your number.”

You were strong enough to resist, yes he was a handsome man but you never were the type to just give out your number to anybody. He was just a simple and flirtatious older customer you seen.

Gojo didnt take it lightly though, he was persistent.

Eventually he’d whoo you with small gifts and large tips, even when you happily declined he managed to get you to take it

He finally got you when he seen you off work. A small chat with him (with of course shameless stares at your body and lips) he convinced you for one small coffee date.

Then that led to him getting your number, then more expensive dates, more expensive gifts, and more princess treatment

You both went on a trip together and you clearly underestimated how rich this man was; private jet, owning WHOLE hotels on islands.

It was overwhelming to say the least but Gojo didnt mind. He loved to see the sparkle in your eyes when he took you to a new place you never been before.

He was pretty much your man at that point, he never had interest for any other women, which was hard to believe, sure he was in his 40s but he didnt look a day over 30. Not even eye bags. He reassured you you were his and only his.

He always takes you out to try to convince you to leave your job. It was a bit concerning how fast he was moving in the relationship, after expressing your concerns he did slow down. At least insisting you work at a different establishment near his place.

One he owned and the pay was twice as much.

Its almost overwhelming how he puts you at such a high priority in his life. It almost felt like your life became straight out of a fantasy.

He treats you as if you were made for him, he’s so gentle, so authoritative which was such a turn on. Him being so big and tall, always doing what your past boyfriends refused to do both out in public and in the bedroom

NSFW

Sex with Sugar Daddy Gojo was exciting.

He was always amped to do try new things like toys or even role play

His favorite; teacher and student of course.

He always buys you some of the skimpest lingerie, you always have to take as many pictures as you can because if he catches you wearing it he will in fact rip it off

Sex with SD Gojo is something you can’t even compare to

Sex with SD Gojo made you realize You were far from a virgin but laying with him made you feel like one, either the men you slept with were THAT bad or he was THAT good

Sex with SD Gojo always knew how to touch you, he knew how many fingers of his inside you can make your mouth fall slack

Sex with SD Gojo was fun and light hearted, he’d giggle at how sensitive your body BECAME after sex with him, peppering your body in kisses telling you how much youve improved on taking him in entirely

Honestly, there was no other man to fuck you better than he does

#TimikosGojo #black reader #jjk #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #jjk x black reader #jjk x poc!reader #gojo x black reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo saturo

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markiemelon · 20 days

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ordinary

fluff ─ ੈ♡˳ no warnings! ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

idol!jaehyun x gn!reader

this one’s for all my delulus out there!

{6:33pm} ♡‧₊˚ ↴

it wasn’t his job that made him ordinary, it wasn’t his talent, and it certainly wasn’t his looks.. but it was the little things he did, like wanting to go to the convenience store with you at 2am even after a long day of photoshoots and promotions.

it’s starting to get colder, and leaves are turning brown again. just like it was when you met him. this time of year makes you remember the first time you crossed paths.

you were working at a cafe, your first day, first job. he, of all people, walked in. you felt your heart stop and start again. of course you knew who he was, but you didn’t dare say anything. you kindly welcomed him, holding back the urge to ask for a picture or an autograph.. you were too shy to do anything like that.

you’ll never forget his order. it still hasn’t changed. you called it out. “extra hot caramel macchiato, two pumps hazelnut, extra whipped cream.”

he was off to the side of the counter, jotting something down on piece of paper. his head perked up at your call, and he smiled.

he payed in cash, and managed to slip something in with it. a little folded up sticky note wedged in between the bills. you wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t slipped out and fallen onto the floor. “oh, did something fall out of—”

“don’t worry. that’s for you.” he interjected, taking the change you held out for him in your hand. “well thanks. have a nice day.” he nodded on his way out.

after watching him exit in awe, you picked up the note. a string of digits was written across it in really poor handwriting. it read ‘text me?’ but it actually looked more like ‘taxi man’

but you couldn’t focus for the rest of the day. seeing him in person was enough to shake you up, but for him to hit on you? you got a least 4 orders wrong after that.

when you finally got home, you were hesitant to type the number into your phone. did he really mean to give it to you? that’s dangerous… for all he knows, you could be a sasaeng.

you ignored any doubts and just did it anyway. you had no idea what to say. not wanting to freak him out or act like a crazy fan, you went with something simple.

hi are you the guy from earlier? caramel macchiato?

shortly after you sent it, you got a response.

yeah that’s me

you stared at your screen expressionless, trying to process what was going on. and then another text came through.

sorry that note was so sloppy. actually i was worried you wouldn’t be able to read it

im jaehyun by the way. could i get your name?

all you could do was laugh. it was unbelievable.

surprisingly, you slept pretty well that night. but you woke up a little disappointed, thinking you’d just woken from the best dream ever. you picked up your phone to check the time only to see a message from a number that had yet to be saved as a contact.

you working today?

you took a second to notice the messages above it, where you exchanged names. your heart fluttered, but then it dropped. it was already noon and jaehyun’s text is what reminded you that you had a shift at 1:15. your thumbs slammed against your keyboard to respond.

yes i totally forgot

you pulled yourself together in like 10 minutes. hair kinda messy, eye bags on fleek, you head out. you were in such a hurry, it didnt occur to you to check if he responded.

nice. i’ll see you there

but you left him on delivered.

you made it just on time. you reached for the door handle but someone else beat you to it. a familiar voice spoke. “here, i can get that.”

you weren’t expecting to see jaehyun right beside you, and you obviously weren’t used to seeing his face up close and personal. “oh it’s you-” your hands instinctively covered your mouth in surprise. “what are you doing here?” you avoided looking directly at him as you made your way inside.

he followed behind you. “i have a day off.. and i was craving coffee.” you rubbed your cold hands together. “is that so?” heading to the back to put your things down, you tried hard not to show how nervous you were.

you came back out with an apron, and you made sure to fix your hair up a bit. jaehyun was standing on the other side of the counter like he was ready to place an order, so you had to think of him as any regular customer. “what can i get for you today, sir?”

“can i get a… date with you?”

at that point, it had started to sink in. that you actually had a shot with this guy.

“sir, that’s.. not on the menu.” you teased with a sudden confidence, looking him in the eye.

yes, this was jeong jaehyun. but at the end of the day, he was still a man. and like any man, you wouldn’t let him pull you so easily.

“it’s not?” he answered, his gaze lingering on you so naturally. “hmm…” with a quick scan of the menu, he continued. “a caramel macchiato is fine, then.”

one thing led to another, and the untouchable superstar jaehyun you couldn’t believe was real, was now the annoying jaehyun who refused to leave your home.

the unreachable jaehyun who travels the world, performing at sold out stadiums, is still the jaehyun who sleeps through his alarms, and sings in the shower…

now you know he’s not unreachable or untouchable, but it was still hard for you to understand how such a special person… could really be so ordinary.

thank you for reading 🌱 reqs always open

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pseudowho · 3 months

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Daddy

Dating apps are a hazard for men like Higuruma Hiromi...

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Higuruma Hiromi has a dating app on his phone.

It's not that he wanted it-- he really didnt. Two silly-drunk colleagues on a night out pushed him incessantly. The cool night air on the balcony made Hiromi shiver and seek out red wine for its warmth; it stripped Hiromi clean...or, it would have done, if not for his Junior Associates and their dirty talk.

"What do you mean you don't have a girlfriend, Higuruma?" The girl chirped, looking so appallingly young to Hiromi, with her mascara and lipstick all drunk-smudged.

"It's because he's working all the time, look at him, probably hasn't had a good fuck in years--" The boy bullied, really barely a man, sharing a cackle with his tipsy, sloppy friend.

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" Hiromi groaned, both hands sliding down his face as he leant back in his chair, "I'm after more than just 'a good fuck' as you so eloquently put it--" his colleagues laughed a dirty laugh, "--and I can get by without one, just because you two saplings have to wank furiously twice a day or you'd spontaneously combust--"

Hiromi was being ignored now, his two juniors chattering between themselves, deciding on a plan.

"Give us your phone, Higuruma," the girl wheedled, two hands clasped to Hiromi's forearm, "just for a minute."

Hiromi groaned again, running a hand through his hair, just wanting some peace and quiet; "sod off, I'm not giving you my phone--" and instantly the two voices were on him, rabbling, cajoling, bullying, until Hiromi waved his splayed long fingers at them.

Hiromi unlocked his phone, flipping it carelessly into the lap of the girl who clapped and squealed in excitement. Instantly, the two young drunks put their heads together, working on their dubious little project.

"Okay, all done, Mr.Higurumaaaa!" The girl sang, presenting his phone to him with a flourish, looking proud of herself. The boy sat, smug, looking at Hiromi like he'd done him a favour. Hiromi felt nervous already.

"What did you--" Hiromi looked down, and groaned for a third time to see a dating profile in his name. But, even he couldn't deny that the candid photo of him in the city skyline bar, loose-tied with a hand running through his black hair, wine-drunk and sultry, was good.

"I certainly won't be using that, thank you," Hiromi berated, to two raucous laughs. Hiromi snorted into his wine, shaking his head fondly at his juniors, and promptly forgot all about his new dating profile.

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Some weeks later, in a fit of loneliness, Hiromi remembered it. Legs up on his sofa in the dark, really just wanting someone to talk to, and if they managed to talk him into bed, well, then that was just a bonus--

Hiromi felt a thrilled little leap in his belly-- his inbox was bursting. It didn't take long for the thrill to be replaced promptly by a little rancid coil of disgust.

"Why is she-- why is she calling me Daddy, she doesn't even know-- jesus wept..." Hiromi sifted through 24 year olds, 21 year olds, and even 18 year olds, in his inbox, with an immediately dismissive shudder, feeling like a lecherous old man even just for having been approached by them.

Even the tiny handful of 25-29s made him uncertain, wondering what they wanted from a man with a not inconsiderable amount of grey in his hair.

Feeling dirty and disappointed, Hiromi dropped the phone on his coffee table.

"I shall die a nun, I think," he said aloud to nobody in particular, resigned, lonely.

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"Darling-- darling-- put on some music for me will you? My hands, uh..." Hiromi waggled his hands, stood at the kitchen counter, chopping raw chicken.

You hummed in affirmation, wandering over to Hiromi, unlocking his phone for him. Hunting through his phone for his music, your other hand teasing his aproned waist, your jaw dropped to find an app languishing, overflowing with notifications.

"Hiromi! You've got a dating app?!" Hiromi spun, his mouth gaping, eyes wide with panic.

"Not-- no no no, it's not what you think--I just completely forgot I had it--"

"Oh shush, I don't think that, silly, I know you'd never do that--" you laughed, opening the app, raising your eyebrows with an appreciative whistle at the artistically languid photograph of Hiromi sprawled in a roof garden chair, long fingers curled around his red wine, looking to all the world as though he were the devil made flesh.

"I'll be having that, thank you," you pipped, saving the photo and sending it to yourself, "and what have we here?" You began to scroll through Hiromi's messages, interested, beginning to laugh.

"Wow, you uh...really attract the daddy-issues ones, huh?" Hiromi hung his head in shame, as you laughed at him, and begun to read some of the messages.

"Daddy looks like that lap needs a baby on it," your voice coy and 'innocent' in a way that made Hiromi audibly "UGH" at you, rushing to wash his hands, grabbing a dish cloth to whip you with as he chased you around the kitchen, laughing.

"Fine AF," you chirped, dodging Hiromi, falling back onto the sofa, still reading aloud in a nasal whine, "Daddyyyyyy."

"Enough of that, you sick little demon," Hiromi snapped, snatching his phone away, pressing you to the sofa, his hips pressed between your legs, nose and lips working with punishing insistence against your throat. You giggled again.

"Dadd--" Hiromi bit into your neck, his water-cooled fingers pinching your pebbling nipple through your top without warning, and you shivered in delight.

"You want a grown woman instead of a girl, these days, and you're the freak--" Hiromi complained, huffing, blushing and smirking down at you. You coiled your hair around a finger, looking up at him, biting your lip in a way that made Hiromi's cock twitch.

"You're saying I'm too old for all that?" You teased, sighing in faux-despair. You gasped as you felt Hiromi hum against your belly, kissing and nipping his way downwards.

"Shut up," Hiromi dismissed, "and let me taste you."

#higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma #jjk #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #hiromi hiromi hiromi #hiromi smut #hiromi jjk #higuruma smut #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma fluff #higuruma fluff

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veryberryjelly · 7 months

Text

gone to shit

pairing : jake peralta x fem!reader

prompt : "can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

your day had been going too well for it to continue.

you had gotten to your local coffee shop before it got too busy, gotten up to the bullpen without getting catcalled by some jackass outside and you and your boyfriend were the only ones in the office which was nice.

it was quiet and the first 30 minutes your day was spent sat opposite jake just talking until your friends and colleagues filtered in through the elevator.

and then everything came crashing down.

multiple people in the holding cell caused the bullpen to be filled with noise which was unsettling.

the coffee you had gotten this morning spilled over your desk and your lap.

your phone had died half way through a conversation with your sister and you knew she wouldn't appreciate it seeming like you hung up on her.

and you had misfiled some evidence and had to talk to holt to fix it.

you hoped he would be in a good mood so this wouldn't end up with you getting reamed out.

unfortunately that was not the case.

while he didnt yell you could sense the annoyance & slight disappointment in his tone as he told you do leave so he could deal with it.

and you did leave.

but instead of heading back to your desk you went to the evidence lock up, heading towards the back corner and sinking down onto the floor, the cool surface bringing you out of your head very slightly.

but it wasnt enough to stop the hot burning tears from falling from your eyes.

this wasnt something you should be getting so upset about, there were people in the world that had it a lot worse than you and here you were crying over the tiniest things.

just because they had happened in quick succession it felt so overwhelming.

you were way too in your own head to notice your name being called quietly into the room.

it was only when you saw a set of shoes infront of you that your attention was pulled from the spiralling thoughts in your head.

your hands instantly lifted to wipe at your cheeks to try and pass it off like you weren't crying.

" woah woah, hey. what's wrong, babe? "

the sound of jake's voice did not relax you as much as usual.

you shook your head, trying to shake off this awful tightness in your chest but that did nothing to calm jake's worry.

he crouched down beside you momentarily before sitting down next to you, knowing that his gaze on you could overwhelm you even further.

his arm dropped to around your shoulders and your head instantly dropped down onto the soft fabric of his hoodie.

" you wanna tell me why you're hiding in the evidence lock up ?" he asked, his fingertips running over the fabric of your shirt.

" everything was just going so well this morning and then i spilled my coffee, the holding cell is so full of jackasses, my phone died and then i misfiled some evidence... it all just went to shit "

his small motions on your shoulder were calming you slightly but not by much, your shoulders were still shaking and you couldnt bring yourself to take a full breath.

jake didn't reply for a few moments but his fingertips kept tracing shapes over your shoulder.

" ok, well these are all easy fixes. rosa has a charger in her desk she'll let you use, the holding cell is thinning out really quickly and you left a spare pair of jeans at my apartment a couple days ago and i brought them to give back to you, so you can change into those. "

how he managed to solve all of your problems so quickly you'll never know, but you were just so grateful.

you turned your body further into his, smiling softly when he wrapped his arm tighter around you and pressed a short kiss onto the top of your head.

" thank you "

" you're welcome, babe " he said quietly.

both of you remained sat on the floor of the evidence lock up for a couple more minutes before jake moved to stand and lead both of you back to the bullpen.

before he could take you outside you pulled him back by his hand, a soft and playful pout resting on your lips.

"can i have one more hug?" you asked, tilting your head back to look up at him.

a grin spread across his face.

"aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

you quickly closed the two feet between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head buried against his chest.

another 5 minutes were spent surrounded by weapons in boxes just hugging your boyfriend.

but when you returned to the bullpen, everything seemed a little bit better

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luvhughes43 · 3 months

Text

you are in love | luca fantilli

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: Loved the Luca fic! Can you write one with him based on “you’re in love” by taylor?

word count: 3.8k words

one look, dark room, meant just for you

time moved too fast, you play it back

buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke

no proof, not much

but you saw enough

you weren’t drunk enough to truly enough the frat party luca had invited you too. you were chatting with a few girls from one of your classes, but your attention kept straying to your best friend of many years.

luca was undoubtedly your best friend. he was the reason behind a lot of your decisions - like committing to the university of michigan - and the reason why you struggle to talk to other guys at parties like these. because despite it all, you would always feel love for your best friend even if you couldn’t speak on that part out loud.

now of course you didn’t do everything for him but… sandbox love never dies. so when you discovered that michigan offered you a substantial scholarship… a school that your best friend coincidentally had committed to playing hockey for… how could you have turned it down?

“okay, and i swear the lectures never make any sense! like there’s no structure at all” the girls around you continue to talk but you were no longer paying attention. Luca had caught your eye, mouthing a quick you okay? from across the crowded room. you nod politely, and turn your attention back to the girls in front of you.

you're interrupted less than a minute later however when luca - grinning - taps on your shoulder. “you ready to go?” he asks, head so close to yours you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.

“yeah just let me go grab my coat,” you reply, waving goodbye to your friends and taking hold of lucas hand so the two of you don’t get separated.

it takes a few minutes but you find your roommate gwen who was guarding your belongings for you, and you give her a quick hug before grabbing hold of all your things.

“are you guys leaving?” she asks, looking between you and your best friend with a knowing glint in her eyes.

luca nods and grabs your things from your hands. he has your purse slung around his shoulder and your coat held up for you to slip your arms into.

“yeah, luca’s tired” you joke, smiling back at him as you pull your arms through your jacket sleeves.

luca rolls his eyes and spins you around before buttoning up your coat for you. when he did things like this for you, you swore that it was impossible for your feelings to not be requited.

“tired of being bored because you ditched me, maybe!” luca smiles, your burgundy bag still sitting pretty on his shoulder.

“you're right, I should've known better! no party is fun without me,” your reply was meant to be taken as a joke but luca enthusiastically agrees with you.

“alright, well you guys drive safe! yn text me when you get back home. i might be late,” gwen says, her eyes catching on somebody in the distance.

“okay i will! love you, bye!” the two of you part ways, and luca immediately slips his hand back in yours under the guise of “not being separated…”

Small talk, he drives

coffee at midnights

the light reflects

the chain on your neck

lucas passenger side isn’t an uncommon place for you. everything about his car felt familiar. he had bought it used back in freshman year, and it was beat to all hell with the amount of hockey boys and trips it’s been through.

“hey, did you hear that rutger got a girlfriend?” luca asks about five minutes into the drive. car rides between the two of you were mostly in comfortable silence, neither of you needing to say much to enjoy your time together.

“no i didnt. is she nice?” you respond, letting your gaze shift from the dark streets in front of you to the boy beside you.

“yeah, i think you’d really like her,” the conversation falls flat after that. you can’t help but pay attention to luca. his grown out hair, the way his hand flexed around the steering wheel… how the light is hitting the chain hanging from his neck just right.

with all the years you’ve spent with luca, you’ve never once got tired of the sight of him. even when the two of you were back in toronto and he had braces with all the hideous band colours.

you would also never get tired of his company. it was all just so easy being with him like this. even though you wanted more, you thought that it always going to be enough to just be his best friend.

“do you want to get coffee?” lucas voice breaks through your thoughts, and your smile becomes impossibly wider. coffee at midnight - as strange as it sounds - became yours and lucas tradition ever since your first final season when the two of you were exhausted and in desperate need of caffeine. luca had managed to find the only coffee shop in ann arbor that was still open, and ever since then the tradition had continued.

he says, “look up”

and your shoulders brush

no proof, one touch

but you felt enough

luca was at your usual spot in less than ten minutes, parking the car and rushing over to your door to open it. which was another one of your many traditions. you had seen it in a romcom once, something so simple and yet so charming at the same time, and since then whenever he could luca would open your door for you.

“look up,” luca says, gesturing up to the sky adorned with hundreds of stars.

you look up, shoulders brushing against lucas when you feel the familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach.

luca looks down at you, a soft smile on his face as he appreciates you without you noticing.

you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

the coffee shop is quiet when you enter, and you order yours and lucas coffees to-go. while you're waiting, you catch lucas gaze on you and your cheeks heat up accordingly. you were so in love with him…

“i’ve got one sugar one cream, and two creams two sugars!” a barista calls out and you immediately grab your coffees.

back in the car luca asks you a question, “do you want to stay at my place tonight?” now, this wasn’t something unfamiliar for you two but every time he asked it still felt like the first time. it felt like how it did years ago, like giggles and blushes and unspoken feelings.

you easily accept, “yeah sounds good. i don’t have any of my things though”

“I bought you a toothbrush when i went to the store last week,” luca flashes you a smile.

“a little bit presumptuous huh?” you tease. whenever you’ve gone to lucas before it was always pre-planned. therefore there was no reason for you to leave any of your stuff at his place.

“oh i knew it’d happen eventually,” he jokes. “I know you love me,” luca smiles again and your heart races. could he know? has he known all these years?

when you don’t immediately respond, luca frowns. “you're my best friend… i’d hope you’d love me?”

you shake your head to rid yourself of your thoughts. “no, of course i love you. my best friend forever!” you sing, hoping that you’ve masked your feelings well. there was absolutely no way - even if there were multiple signs that luca loved you - that you were going to confess your feelings. you weren’t going to risk your many years of friendship on something that he may not actually feel.

yn to gwen: hey! there’s been a change of plans and i’m staying at lucas tonight. be safe tonight!

gwen: ok!!! you be safe too🤭

morning, his place

burnt toast, sunday

you keep his shirt

lucas sheets are cold, and you know that because you're tangled in them. you push your hair out of your face and sit up in bed, quickly noticing your best friend’s absence.

you let yourself adjust to your surroundings for a moment, before a whiff of something burnt reaches your nose.

“luca?” you call out, before getting out of his bed and making your way into the kitchen.

luca was standing there in his pajamas, trying and failing miserably to cook breakfast. he looks up at the sound of your voice, eyes trailing your body as he takes in your outfit.

“i’m loving the look,” he says, referring to his shirt and sweats you borrowed last night.

you roll your eyes, laughing lightly as you walk up to luca to assess the damages he's done to the food. “how is it that you’re 21 and don’t know how to cook?”

“aht! aht! aht! this is gourmet!” he gestures towards two messy plates.

“ah sorry!” you amend. “i wasn’t familiar with your work”

“yes! this is the great fantilli breakfast which i am proud to serve…” he passes you a plate and you smile up at him as you lean against his counter.

the two of you eat in silence for a while before luca pauses and looks up at you. “you should keep that shirt by the way,” he says, completely catching you off guard.

you wipe the crumbs from the corner of your mouth, “really?” you set your plate to the side.

“yeah it looks really good on you,”

you hum in agreement, twirling around in the kitchen so luca can see the full effect of his shirt. “i think i look really good in your car too!” you tease and luca sets his plate down.

“oh yeah?” he replies, smirking.

“mhmm think i might have to keep it,” you advance towards luca playfully, grabbing ahold of his hands when you finally reach him.

luca squeezes your hands, “sorry but the car comes with me,”

you pause for a minute, pretending to contemplate whether the car, luca included, was worth it. “i think… i can find a place for you!”

“oh you think?” luca laughs, breaking apart from your hold to tickle your sides.

“okay i know so!” you pant, trying but failing to break free from lucas grasp.

“hmm.. I don’t think i heard you…” he teases, not pausing from his tickling.

“okay okay! I want you and the car!” you yell, and when luca stops his attacks on your sides you fall against him. he wraps his arms around you and all of sudden you feel the butterflies from earlier float from your stomach and up to your chest.

he keeps his word

and for once, you let go

of your fears and your ghosts

luca drives you home later that afternoon. you're clad in his t-shirt and your jeans from last night, and for a moment you allow yourself to forget about your rules and to imagine what it’d be like if luca was really your boyfriend.

one step, not much

but it said enough

you kiss on sidewalks

you fight, then you talk

months go by and you two are still in the same positions that you’ve always been in - helplessly in love but too afraid to say anything.

it was graduation weekend, 4 long years of university long gone and so were your childhood years well beyond that. you hold luca’s hand comfortably as the two of you walk around campus one last time as students. the sun was setting, and there was nowhere else that you would rather be.

“remember first year when we were walking to the library and some girl came up to you and asked you for your phone number? did you give it to her? i can't remember anymore,” you ask mindlessly.

luca hums in acknowledgement, “yeah i remember. but no i didn’t give it to her,” he responds, squeezing your hand. “remember when that guy… what's his name? from the football team spilt his drink on your top at the first party we went to here?”

you snort, recalling the memory. “yeah, and then he asked me to dance”

“did you dance with him? i can't remember,” luca asks.

you lead luca forward, “no i didn’t”

the two of you send each other knowing glances but neither of you acknowledges the obvious truth between the two of you. you were both in love.

when you get to a crosswalk you pause and turn to luca. “remember in second when i was late for econ and i almost got hit by a car because i was running and didn’t look before crossing the road?” that was an awful day. everything had been going wrong but there had been one nice moment… luca had brought you dinner at the end of the day and the two of you sat together as you both ranted about how much harder second year was turning out to be.

luca doesn’t respond, and when you look up at him he blanks. “lu…?”

you hadn’t even realized that he was moving towards you until he kissed you. lips soft as they brushed against yours in an impossibly tender kiss. it lasts a few seconds, and when luca pulls away you sigh.

“wow…” “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that” you both speak at the same time, both of your tones are drastically different.

“oh” your shock was clearly evident because luca started back pedaling.

“like it was nice but i don't…”

“don't what…”

luca is the one to sigh this time and it’s not out of pleasure. “we’re best friends i shouldn’t have done that,”

at first you were hurt, but then you were angry. who cared if you were best friends? you felt so strongly about luca and now more than ever you knew he felt that same way. “luca-”

“no we don’t have to talk about this, really. it was a mistake and it won’t happen again,” he assures you, and your heart breaks. you nod silently, biting the inside of your cheek as you drop lucas hand and turn back to where you had just walked from.

“i think i’m going to head back now… it's getting kind of chilly,” you lie, just wanting to be free from luca.

luca starts to shrug off his sweater but you hold one of your hands up to stop him. “no, you should have it” he tries again but you still don’t let him give you his sweater.

you let out a weak laugh, thinking back to the time luca had given you his shirt earlier in the year. you had let yourself think that he liked you back… “i’m fine, thanks” is all you say before you start to walk back to your apartment. this time instead of holding hands, you're holding yourself.

weeks later this moment becomes insignificant to the both of you, but that doesn’t mean you still don’t reflect on it whenever luca shows any type of affection towards you.

one night, he wakes

strange look on his face

pauses, then says

“you’re my best friend”

and you knew what it was

he’s in love

graduation is long over now, and your first summer out of school treats you with kindness. yours and lucas friends had decided to rent a beach house along the coast of florida, and so for the past week you’ve done nothing but drink and lounge happily with your group of people.

rutgers girlfriend, you were quick to find out, was insanely nice and kind. the two of you had grown close, and so it came to no surprise that when luca spotted rutgers girlfriend outside, that you were close by.

“i’m headed off to bed,” luca says, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “just thought i’d let you know so you don’t go looking for me,” he jokes, pulling you into his side like any boyfriend would. except you werent dating, and the bed he was referring to was being shared between the two of you since there weren't enough rooms for everybody to get their own.

“okay, i’ll meet you in a bit,” you respond, breaking eye contact with rutgers girlfriend and turning your attention to your best friend.

“sounds good,” is all luca says before dropping his arm and sauntering back into the house. you wish your eyes knew better than to trail after him and yet… you couldn’t help but stare at his back muscles as he retreated. it was going to be a long summer…

when you crawled into bed that night, luca was already asleep. you stare up at the ceiling fan, wondering if you’d ever fall out of luca. it was getting too hard to love him.

luca always had some strange extra sense when it came to you. so it came to no shock that he had awoken shortly after you had laid down. you turned your head away from the ceiling and onto the brunette boy laying next to you.

“you’re my best friend,” luca mumbles, moonlight from the open window casting a soft glow onto his face.

“you’re my best friend too,” you reply simply, voice breaking slightly as you realize the weight of your words. best friends… it was all you were ever going to be.

“no, don’t be upset…” luca whispers, wiping away the tears that were rolling down your face. the genuine concern on his face made you want to cry harder. his first thought was always to protect you.

“i’m sorry,”

“no sorry,” he slurs, sleep catching up to him.

you don’t say anything in reply, opting for the silence to wash over the two of you once more. luca didn’t remember this exchange in the morning.

you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

once the trip is over you fly back to your family home in toronto. you busy yourself with work and childhood friends, and things start to become a new normal for you. now that you and luca weren’t living in michigan anymore, your hang outs became much more sparse.

or at least, until adam had a game against the leafs and luca had sent you tickets to watch the game with him.

you sat next to luca during the game, shoulders brushing and smiles exchanged. and you so desperately knew that even if neither of you could vocalize your feelings, there would always be love between you.

you two are dancing in a snow globe ‘round and ‘round

and he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown

and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

and why i’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words

five years go by and you and luca are still close friends. though instead of midnight coffee and study sessions it’s a quick lunch and texts between work tasks.

tonight was different though, because you were being promoted at work and so you dressed up in your finest attire for the dinner being thrown in your honour. you had told luca all about it, and when you stood up in front of your colleagues and their spouses to accept your new position in the company, you were delighted to catch a glimpse of luca amongst the crowd.

when everything was over and done, you walk as fast as you can to luca. “lu you’re here!” you shriek, throwing yourself into his open arms. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment, completely enamoured with one another.

“of course I'm here! i'm so proud of you,” he smiles widely, never dropping his arms from around you.

“thank you for being here,” you mirror his smile, giggling slightly when you realize his attention is still solely on you.

‘cause you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

at the end of the night luca drives you home instead of letting you take an uber. his car is much nicer now that he’s out of university, and you want to make a joke similar to the one from all those years ago… something about wanting his car and him, but you can't remember it properly enough to recite it.

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

when you're parked, luca steps out first and rounds the front of his car. he opens your door as he did all those years before, and all the butterflies from years prior seem to find their wings again as they start to flutter. you’re in love.

“thank you,” you say as you step out of luca’s car. you look up at the night sky, to be pleasantly surprised by the amount of stars that rarely grace the toronto skyline. “luca look up,” you tug on his blazer sleeve.

when luca meets your gaze and looks up at the sky, he can only think of one thing. he’s in love.

“yn…” luca whispers just as you tilt your head to face him.

“luca…” you turn your body towards him, both of you are still standing right next to lucas car in your parking lot.

before you can doubt yourself, you’re leaning over and grazing your lips against your best friends. luca doesn’t pause this time, instead he pulls you closer to him as he deepens your kiss. you sling your arms around his shoulders, and his hand rests itself on the back of your head.

when you pull apart you're both breathing heavily. “wow…” “wow…” you both echo each other and luca leans his forehead against yours.

“i’m sorry if this is too soon but… i love you,”

you can’t help but giggle at his words. “lu we’ve been waiting for what seems like a lifetime,” you slip your lips back against his and pull apart much sooner than you would like. “i love you too,”

“good,” luca’s smile is breathtaking. “because i’m never letting you go again,”

you tighten your grip around his neck and you let your hand find its rightful place in the hairs at the back of his neck. “who says i was going to let you?” you hum. “i’ve waited way too long for this,”

luca’s lips are on yours again, and for a moment it feels like you can't breathe between the love coursing through your veins and all the butterflies. “way too long,” luca whispers as he pulls his lips away from yours.

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love

true love

you are in love

#luca fantilli x reader #luca fantilli imagine #luca fantilli blurb #luca fantilli fic #umich blurbs #umich imagine #umich fic

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nanaslutt · 6 months

Note

you are a god fr, I love everything you write, i owe you my life. pitching two ideas because i believe in you:

nanami getting sucked off under his desk while in a conference call

bossy dom gojo getting carried away and apologetically pampering afterwards

HEELLLOOOWWW???? the nanami one has me sweating

therefore we’re gonna start w that one >:)

tysm for the ask beb ily<3

contains: fem reader, oral(m!receiving), deepthroating, kinda exhibitionism (he’s on a call w/ his coworkers), voyeurism mentioned, dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, choking, manhandling, established relationship, nanami is in love w reader, brat tamer!nanami, 1 spank & spanking mentioned

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The balding mans unpleasent voice seeps through nanami's laptop speakers, saying something about project needing to be completed in the near future.

These completely unnessicary meetings--to quote nanami himself--never failed to give him the worst migraines. He wasted away enough of his precious life at the office listening to the graveling voice of his headache of a boss during the week, why should he be forced to spend his day off in a conference call with coworkers who's faces he barely regognizes?

Nanami was stressed beyond belief, which is exactly why you; being the sweet and thoughtful partner you are; were currently supporting him.

With your mouth.

Around his cock.

Under his desk.

Luckily for the blonde-haired man, he was only required to have his camera on. Nanami had an amazing poker face, but there would be no covering up the loud slurps and squelches emitting from your mouth that was currently stuffed full of his girthy cock.

He knew he should probably be listening to what his coworkers were conversing about, but although his face failed to show it, his brain wasn't exactly working in the most pristine condition at the moment.

His lashes fluttered, eyes drooping slightly when you took him deeper into your throat, cock jumping against the roof of your mouth when you gagged and hummed around him.

Grip tightened around his coffee mug as he brought it up to his face, faux taking a sip so he could hide his mouth behind the mug to let out a groan.

"Feel good Kento?" you ask sweetly. You were always so concerned for him. Not wasting any time when offering to get on your knees for your man after he remembered only ten minutes before, that he even had a meeting scheduled today. He was planning to stay in bed with you and cuddle all morning, dreams being shattered in real-time when his digital watch reminder chimed.

Groaning into your chest and apologizing profusely, he started to roll out of bed and make himself presentable as quick as possible. That's when you caught his larger hand in your own, and proposed your offer. Surprised when he actually accepted your proposal. Kento wasn't really one for risk, but he was in dire need of your company on this day.

You took any opportunity you got to spend time with Kento, him working a 9-5 and all. You did see a message on his phone the other day from a "gojo satoru", saying something about talking to "yaga" about coming back to work at a school? You didnt know if that meant you would see him more frequently or not. Maybe you would finally have time to go on that trip to Malaysia you always talked about together, but that was a discussion for another time.

Voices of his coworkers muffling more and more, their words sounding foreign to him as he focused on the warmth your mouth provided, already feeling his headache start to dissipate.

Your moans vibrating around his cock made him feel dizzy, but he looked totally put together. You were slightly irritated that he looked so unaffected. Wanting to see his facade crack, craving his deep moans to resound in your ears while fucked your throat with reckless abandon in front of his pervy coworkers, giving them a show. Imagining their surprised reactions to seeing the usually stoic and put-together Nanami Kento, crumble under your hands was making you aroused.

You understood how important this meeting was, and for the both of you to not get caught, but from the message you saw it sounded like he was in the middle of changing his profession anyways, so did it really matter?

All reason being thrown out the window as your hand comes down to knead and massage his balls between your fingers, using your saliva that had dripped from the base of his cock to ease the slide against his sensitive sack.

You saw his abs clench under his shirt, the only change in demeanor being the deep breath he took, grunting softly when he let it out.

He looked down at you for a beat, if you weren't so focused on his chiseled face, searching for the reactions you craved, you would've missed the warning look he gave you. One that said, watch yourself.

Smirk tugging at your lips, occupied with his girth, you pulled back almost completely off him, continuing to massage his balls with one hand, the other coming up to stroke the part of his cock that wasn't in your mouth anymore.

You pointed the tip of your tongue, teasing it into the slit of his cock, he made the mistake of actually taking a sip of his coffee at the same time, covering his mouth with his arm and choking on the liquid when he felt you flick your tongue into the entrance of his urethra.

Alarms going off in his head when his boss called attention to his little coughing fit, "Nanami? Are you alright?" he knew that everyone in the meeting now had their attention on him, you knew that too.

And still you didn't stop

He spoke your name darkly, a verbal warning now, before raising his head from the crook of his arm to switch himself off mute. Coughing a bit; not at the coffee anymore; when you kept your ministrations going strong. "Y-yes, sorry, wrong pipe," he struggled out.

Satisfaction filling your chest, finally seeing more of a reaction from him like you wanted. Going back to throating his cock in one swift motion, hand that was stroking him coming to rest on top of his veiny one that was sitting against his thigh, bouncing with his knee.

Squeezing your hand around his, he returned the action, fingers curling into yours when he felt your palm come into contact with his skin. Moved his curser back to mute himself once more as he felt himself inching closer and closer to his orgasm caused by your expert technique.

Nanami's thick fingers stalled against the mousepad when his boss spoke up again, "Good to hear you're alright then! Since you have your mic on, and we haven't heard from you yet, how about you tell us your input regarding the project and your thoughts on what has been said so far?"

fuuuuuuuuck you've got to be kidding

If he had a button that he could press right now that would kill him, he would press it a heartbeat, zero hesitation.

Nanami never has been the universe's favorite.

It wasn't so much that he didn't know what had already been said or what the project was about, but moreso that he was quite literally on the precipice of his orgasm, and was about to be thrown off the edge.

Worst fucking timing ever.

Tapping his heavy fingers against the desk next to the speaker on his laptop to cover the slurping sounds that were now barely audible thanks to your softer sucking. Maybe you did have a conscious he thought briefly. well..just maybe, considering you didnt stop.

The feeling of your mouth being no less intense even with softer technique, arguably more arousing as it felt like you were teasing him, slowly building him up to his orgasm with kittle licks on his tip, hunching down to lap at his balls, sticking your tongue out flat and letting his heavy sack come into contact with the warm appendage.

He squeezed your hand tight as he started to talk, lots of uncharacteristic 'ums', stuttering, and well-timed coughs filling in his sentences as he tried to get out his input as quickly as possible so he could fucking cum already. Then he could deal with you.

He tried to stave off his orgasm by untensing the muscles in his pelvis. This technique was just enough for him to make it to the end of his speech, quickly muting himself and bringing the back of his hand to his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Jaw dropping behind his fingers as his deep voice groaned out unabashedly, clenching his jaw as rope after rope spurted out the slit of his cock, dirting your hair.

Unaware of how close he really was from his inability to warn you beforehand, you quickly brought your face into place, sucking his cock back into your mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth on the length of him. Sucking and swallowing what was left of his warm cum as he dropped his hand back onto the desk in a fist, clenching it hard, making the veins on his wrist pop out while he rode out the aftershocks.

Face straightening out once more, chest still heaving through his mouth, cracked open slightly. Continuing to dart your tongue out around his dick. His hard cock twitched against your face when you leaned down to lick and against the rough material of his pants, cleaning the cum he spilled there, while his boss wrapped up the meeting.

He shut his laptop with such speed and force the second the chime signaling the end of the meeting commenced, making you worry about the state of the screen before his hand was in your hair.

He yanked on it hard, crouching slightly to meet your face halfway as he pulled you up by his harsh grip, "You're fucking done." he spat. Dragging you to his feet he threw you over his shoulder in one swift motion, leaving a loud smack against your ass, yelping when you felt the impact. He was making quick strides towards the bedroom, "So fucking lucky we didn't get caught." he growled, throwing you down on the bed, watching you bounce slightly against the mattress. "how many." he asked impatiently, eyes staring darkly into yours.

"w-what?" you questioned, watching him stand in front of you, hastily taking off his spotted tie as you tried to scoot away from him on the bed. Not letting you get far, he reached out, gripping the entirety of your neck in his big palm and growling his next statement against your mouth, "How many times do you deserve to get spanked?" you gulped hard.

yeahhh, you fucked up.

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