#i still feel your loss like the first day
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translation
Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.
(Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)
5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.
Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.
Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.
Katican.
Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.
When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.
Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.
But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.
You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.
Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.
When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.
“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”
“You speak Avgin,” you argue.
“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”
“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”
Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.
You understand him well enough to know that.
“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”
You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.
“I’ll teach you my language as well?”
“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.
You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”
Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.
He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.
“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.
“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.
He hums. “Just one?”
“One per day.”
“Three.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Well, I am a businessman.”
You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.
“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”
“Deal.”
Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.
It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.
Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.
When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.
He regrets it almost immediately.
When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.
“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.
“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”
Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?
But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.
There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.
There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.
Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.
Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.
Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.
But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.
When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.
“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.
You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”
“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”
You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”
“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”
You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”
“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”
After all, he is the only Avgin left.
It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.
But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.
“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”
Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.
Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.
But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—
SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT
SPEAKERS: 0
STATUS: Extinct
END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE
The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.
He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.
So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.
“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.
“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.
“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”
“You've just reminded me how.”
“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.
“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.
“No, that's so boring.”
“Then let's do your language.”
You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.
“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.
“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”
“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”
You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.
“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”
You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”
And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.
And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.
But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.
SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT
SPEAKERS: 2
STATUS: Endangered.
SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE
NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.
He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—
As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.
His throat locks up.
“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”
He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.
“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”
“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”
He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”
“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”
Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.
“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.
It's a feeling he has to kill.
“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”
This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.
The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.
If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.
Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?
“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”
You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.
Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.
You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.
But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—
Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.
(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.
It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.
But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.
Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.
His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.
Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.
In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.
Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.
In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.
And he has you. Finally, he has you.
He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)
.
.
.
Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.
You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.
So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.
The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.
This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.
It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.
Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.
I'm sorry for always leaving you.
I'm sorry for making you cry.
I can't bear the thought of losing you.
Freedom would be too lonely without you.
I don't want to hurt you anymore.
I don't want to lie to you anymore.
I missed you.
I want you.
I need you.
I love you.
end
afterword
#aventurine x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#x reader#hsr smut#aventurine smut#lol it isnt really smut but it is nsft i suppose#nsft#yueshuo.fics
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show me | l. at
virgin!anton x fem. reader | 7.5k words
stop writing fics with mutual hopeless pining challenge FAILED.
contains: loss of virginity
“are you going on a date next week?”
you tried to sound even as you asked the question. you hid behind your phone while you spoke, only turning your head to the side to see anton’s reaction. you swore you could feel him tense beside you on the bed before he went back to his phone, swiping away on some social media app as he nodded his head.
“i didn’t know you knew about that.” anton said simply.
you went back to your own phone, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach dropped.
“your mom told me.” you responded.
you could hear anton sigh beside you, mentally cursing himself for trusting his mom with such personal information.
“we are going to go eat.” anton slid down his notification window on his phone, probably too see if his soon to be girlfriend had texted him “then we are going to watch a movie at her place.” he said.
knowing the details of the date made the pain significantly worse. it was already bad enough that you felt perpetually stuck in the friend zone with anton. the two of you were always like this—at one point in time all you wanted was to be his friend. but you grew up and so did he, and as your personalities began to differ you saw him as less of a friend and more as a partner.
it didn’t help that skinship with anton never changed. you two would still hold hands like you did when you were kids, and you two laid in beds and sat so close together on couches that your thighs would touch. one day you saw it platonically and one day you did not. you felt your body become hot when anton would get too close, and you would hesitate for no reason. anton was oblivious to it all, so much so that he started letting himself be pursued by girls. you had no choice but to watch it happen, girls that didn’t pay attention to anton talked to him now couldn’t get enough of him. you sat quietly, forced to seem as neutral as possible when they would curiously ask you what anton’s type was.
one girl was able to break through, giving anton his number and eventually asking him out on a date. this is what you gathered from his mother, atleast. she took you aside when you first came into their house, curiously asking you what you knew about a girl named belle. you remembered her, one of the more recent girls that tried for anton’s attention. you told her what you knew, that she was a girl who seemed nice. anton’s mother gave you a knowing smile as she told you anton had a date with her next week. she always had that smile on her face when she spoke to you now, especially when she caught you and anton sitting next to eachother on the couch when there was so much room left on the sofa.
you couldn’t hide your shock, quickly walking up to anton’s room as his mom was on her way out. something about running low on groceries and picking up anton’s brother from practice. everything was lost on you, the only thing occupying your mind was the thought of anton going on a date next week.
you tried to keep it to yourself, atleast until anton decided to tell you himself. but as you laid next to anton on his bed watching him scroll wordlessly on his phone you felt the question bubbling in the back of your throat. when you saw a notification from her pop up on anton’s phone you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing it up.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
anton only shrugged, clearing the notification from the top of his phone before turning off his device. he let his phone rest on his chest as he covered his eyes, an awkward laugh coming from his lips. he took his hands away, not making eye contact with you as he confessed.
“i’m embarrassed.” anton said.
he was still laughing lightly, even as the tips of his ears turned red. you shook your head, propping yourself up from the bed to look down at him.
“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you try not to focus too much on his lips or his eyes as you try to remain neutral. “you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me anything.” you say.
anton props himself up on his elbows, his face coming closer to yours. he is significantly worse at remaining neutral. anton’s eyes immediately go to your glossy lips and stay there. he swears they sparkle in the light of his room, and our eyes stare back at him so intensely he can’t look at them for too long.
too many times you have been stuck in this position with anton. you above him, your lips dangerously close to touching his. in times like this, almost always someone would interrupt this moment. whether it was his mom coming to tell you two food was ready, his brother barging into his room unannounced, sometimes even a notification on anton’s phone would bring you two back to the present. each time there was an outside force that would pull you two apart, acting as a buffer so you two could go back into your normal habits without mentioning what happened moments earlier. but now there was nothing to break the tension or to pull you two apart. it was only you, anton, an empty house, and unresolved feelings that existed in the space between your lips.
when you shifted on the bed and your hand got closer to anton’s body he couldn’t stop himself.
“i’ve never been with anyone before.” he rushed.
you blinked, pulling away from anton to sit up on the bed. you looked around the space of his room, until you circled back to him.
“is that why you’re nervous for your date? because you have no experience?” you asked.
the fog in anton’s mind almost made him ask you what date you were talking about. it wasn’t until anton’s phone rang from another texting notification that he remembered his obligation next weekend. maybe antoon was reading too much into the moment he shared with you, the shimmer on your lips distracted him. so anton nodded at your question, still feeling dizzy after being so close to kissing you.
anton sits up on his bed, leaning against his headboard as he draws his knees to his chest. he focuses on his knees, a habitual shy smile across his face as he avoids your gaze.
“i’m not prepared at all, if we go further.” anton brings one hand to scratch at the nape of his neck. “if she has experience i’m screwed.” anton says.
he can only bring himself to look at you when he feels you look away again. you look past anton to stare at his window, deep in thought as his eyes roam your side profile. you look so pretty like this, he wishes he had the nerve to tell you. part of anton wants to reach out and caress your soft cheek, something he hadn’t been able to do in so long. he has to hold himself back when you turn your head to look at him again.
“what about this.” anton sees the figurative bulb light up over your head as you shift on his bed. “what if i help you. like if i tell you what to do when you’re in that situation with her.” you say.
anton tilts his head when you paused before sayign her. the two of you have been going to school with anton’s future date for as long as he could remember. you knew belle’s name, you were her partner in a project together last week. why was belle suddenly her?
“what do you mean?” anton asked.
anton sees you feign annoyance, how even you realize what you’re proposing is ridiculous. regardless, you lean forward and move in front of anton. your balled up fists hold you upright on his bed, dipping the mattress as you try to justify your reasoning.
“i want to help you not be embarrassed.” you lean back, sitting on the back of your legs as you gently smooth out anton’s sheets with your hands “so you can become confident in expressing your feelings.” you say.
what you say fully sinks in for anton. he feels heat blossom in his chest and spread across his body like a wildfire. he doesn’t know if there’s enough confidence in the world to help anton. he can’t even bring himself to confirm what you’re offering.
“do you mean—” he stutters.
“we can go as far as you’re comfortable with.” you put your hand over anton’s quickly as if you’re trying to compensate for coming on strong. “i don’t want you to mess it up with her.” you reason.
there’s that her again.
“with belle?” anton specifies.
you don’t say her name, only nod your head as you keep your hand on anton’s. he doesn’t know if he should believe you, the situation is too confusing for anton to navigate. you were unpredictable in this way, sometimes so non-assuming you didn’t know what you were hinting at. anton had to be direct, but he had to let his heart calm down first. his eyes went back to looking at your hand resting over his. you were squeezing him at first, but your grip loosened to the point that anton feared you were going to pull away. he had to keep you there, he had to keep feeling your soft hand on top of his.
“just a friend helping another friend out?” anton asks, looking up at you from your hand.
anton sees you hesitate before you nod.
“completely as friends.” you confirm.
anton nods his head, bringing his knees down to sit criss crossed on his bed. now that you two have agreed, neither of you knew how to proceed. it was almost awkward. you felt the urge to go back on your word.
“should we start with kissing?” anton asked.
you nodded your head, scooting closer to anton on the bed. he got closer too, you could see his chest raise and fall quickly as his hands moved towards you. anton talked himself out of touching you, his hands falling back onto the top of his mattress.
“you should touch her first.” you look down at anton’s hands, wishing they were on you instead. you bring wide eyes back to anton, trying to blink away how wet they already feel. “it’s hard but making the first move from the start matters.” you say.
anton nods, bringing his hands up to your shoulder. it’s awkward, you can tell he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he hesitates on where to put it. he squeezes gently and shakes you softly, smiling at you. you smile at him for a second before a shy laugh slips out. anton does the same, giggling as he brings his free hand to cover his toothy grin.
“i don’t know if i know how to kiss.” anton giggles out truthfully.
you nod, and when your laughing subsides you bring anton’s hand from his mouth to rest on your cheek. instantly he’s caressing your skin, light as a feather as you fit into his hand perfectly.
“you can still bring her in.” anton begins pulling you in, his mouth slightly opening as his lips get closer to yours. before they can touch, you speak, desperate to cut through the tension. “let her guide you once you start and you’ll get the hang of it.” you say.
you look up to anton’s eyes one more time, and he nods again before going back to his previous position. he brings you in an you follow in closer, screwing your eyes shut your your lips finally touch.
anton melds to you like it’s second nature. he follows the curves of your lips, and only stumbles for a second before following your lead perfectly. your hand finds its way to his hair, holding the soft strands for comfort. when you tilt your head anton follows, and when you move to the other side anton does the same.
you go from pecks to lingering wet kisses. the sound of your lips parting fills the room, the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. it’s soft like anton’s hand on your cheek, how he got the courage to tilt your head up to his liking. you submit instantly, reveling in anton taking the reigns. it’s him who slips a tongue into your mouth first, and you let him explore your mouth. when his tongue presses against yours you do it back, swapping spit between eachothers mouths.
you’re the one that has to pull away for air first. you almost stay there, intoxicated by the way anton sighs contently into you. but you feel your heart is about to explode. when you finally pull away you’re breathless, looking at your fast learner in awe. anton looks at you with wide eyes, running his tongue over his glossy lips to see if he can taste you again.
“you’re a natural.” you say breathlessly.
“thank you.” anton says back.
he’s just as rattled as you, his mussed hair reflecting his scrambled mind. anton pulls you back in with both hands while you still try catching your breath, placing one last wet kiss on your lips. your hands go to his shoulders and stay there even when he pulls apart from you.
you two still hold eachother, huffing in air like you both just ran a mile. anton comes back first, eyes determined as he takes his hands away from your face.
“what’s next?” anton asks.
you have to sit there and think, not because you don’t know what comes after passionate makeout sessions. you have to gather your thoughts, thinking how you can be normal about your friendship with anton if the two of you go any further. you decide that’s something for later when anton puts his hands on your legs and gives you a look that has your heart leaping in your chest.
“she might only let you finger her since it’s the first date.” you start reaching for your pants. “you have really nice hands so that’s a plus. definitely play into that.”
you wanted to cringe at how you sounded, saying something so lewd so casually. anton was all ears though, not teasing you for the compliment you have wanted to tell him a million times before. his phone was long discarded as he sat up on his bed in front of you. he had his fisted hands pressed into the mattress beside him, flexing his fist as he listened to what you were saying. he nodded at everythin, eyes focused on new parts of your body that were exposed as you got yourself undressed. first it was your thighs and then your calfs as you struggled to take your pants off.
anton was too shy to offer his help, but something inside of him liked seeing you struggle and liked seeing you get undressed for him. before you could expose your stomach, you paused. anton’s eyes went from your thighs and how they were pressed together to your face.
“this is a disclaimer, before we go any further.” anton clenched his fist again when you let go of your shirt, letting it drape down your body again. “she might want you to do things a different way. not all girls are the same.” you say matter-of-factly.
“just show me what you like.” when your eyes got wide anton quickly defended himself. “i can figure out the rest with her when the time comes.”
you nodded your head, agreeing with his reasoning. you and anton sat like that for a minute in complete silence while you gathered your thoughts. anton was patient and he was obedient, giving you his hand instantly when you reached out for it.
you brought his hand to your face, using your own hands to bring his ring and pinky finger to his palm. when only antons thumb, index finger, and middle finger were left you guided his hand to rest on your lips. you slowly opened your mouth and anton understood, shivering while he pushed his fingers past your plush lips.
when his fingers were inside of your mouth he left them rest on top of your tongue. you nodded approvingly, and anton nodded back as he let his thumb rest underneath your chin. he took charge slightly, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks.
what you truly wanted anton to do was stick his fingers so far into your mouth that you gagged on them. but you settled for his large fingers pressing lightly on your tongue. you could see his mouth fall open as you made a show of sucking on him.
“okay now pull them out” you mumbled around his fingers.
anton nodded his head, but before he pulled out his fingers out he brought your chin forward with his thumb, eyes focused on his fingers as he stuck them further into your mouth. the entranced look in anton’s eyes distracted you, and before you could prepare yourself his fingers went too far. you gagged pathetically when anton’s fingers went past your tongue.
anton’s gaze went from his fingers in your mouth to your eyes. he had a look you had never seen, so different from the your shy bestfriend. he kept them there for a beat too short, before you could ease your throat to stop your eyes from getting glossy anton withdrew his fingers slowly. when he saw your eyes get glossy he pulled them out slowly. both of you looked at the the string of spit that connected your lip to his fingers.
“sorry” anton said sheepishly.
as fast as you saw the look in anton’s eyes it was gone, replaced with the same shy expression you were used to seeing. he kept his two fingers together in the air, waiting for your next instructions. you look down at your legs, how they pressed together. the image of anton prying them apart while he had that look in his eyes flashed across your mind. you closed your eyes before looking back up at anton with a thinking look. anton shifted on the bed as you leaned back, following your movements until you moved your legs from underneath you.
when your legs were bent in front of you, anton stayed still. his wet fingers were still in the air, drying from the cool air in his room. you smiled before reaching forward and grabbing his hand, putting it on your knee.
“make sure you always ask if everything is okay, especially if it’s the first time.” you say.
you start applying light pressure to anton’s hand on your knee, showing him to lightly spread your legs apart. he understands immediately, bringing his other hand to your other knee to part them.
“is this okay?” anton asks.
it’s genuine, the way he looks at you with big eyes. you wordlessly nod your head, leaning back to prop yourself on your hands while anton continues spreading you apart.
when you add resistance against anton’s push, he stops completely. you can see him remembering the distance between your parted knees. she is so lucky.
when a sigh slips from your lips anton’s gaze snaps up to you. you play it off well, moving your shoulders slightly to feign contemplation. before anton can ask you what next, you point your feet.
“help me take my underwear off.” you say.
any attempt to sound bossy is hindered by the hush in your voice. you’re being too soft but you can’t help it. you’re lucky anton is too focused on getting you undressed he doesn’t notice the way you bite at your lip nervously.
anton’s hands are timid as his fingers go underneath your waistband. he thinks it would be easier if he approached the situation like ripping off a bandaid, but it’s slow as he pulls your panties up to your thighs and down your knee. your pointed feet helps anton in the end, he leaves the pair next to him on the bed, dropped gently from his hand.
anton sees the first definite crack in your composure when he can’t take his eyes away from your core. you glisten and seize around nothing. the pornos he’s watched and the stories he’s heard falls short—nothing can compare to you.
“wow.” anton sighs.
your knees wobble as you try to close them in subconsciously. anton keeps them apart, slotting himself between your legs to stop them from closing completely he will fight anything that tries to obstruct his view of you. anton looks down at you to watch you change your pleased expression a beat to late.
“flattery will get you very far, anton.” you say.
you try to be sarcastic, but anton is serious as he shakes his head. one of his hands leaves your knee to press on your pearl that protrudes at the top of your cunt. you jolt from the feeling, fists balling the sheets. maybe the pornos got some things right. anton looks at your face, watching more and more of your resolve crumbles in from of him. you are stubborn, clearing your throat to try and bring back some volume to your voice.
“i’m wet already. feel it.” you say.
anton’s finger that presses your pearl drifts down. he can feel you wet and slick against his fingers. he pulls his hand away from you and rubs it between his thumb and index finger.
“that’s how you know you’re doing something atleast a little right.” you shift your hips closer to anton, inviting him to touch you some more. anton went back to touching your folds, pressing in slightly. you could tell he was looking for your hole, and you let him find on his own. you shivered as anton got closer and closer, going further down your cunt. when he found he he pressed in slightly. you showed him he was right by sighing and arching your back.
“it’s lower than i thought.” anton laughed quietly to himself.
“yeah.” you said breathlessly.
you were caught up in the feeling of anton’s probing fingers so close to being fully inside of you. you almost forgot you had a job to do as anton’s bestfriend.
“start off with just one finger. your hands are big.” you say.
anton pushes in a finger, looking up at you as he eases in. you clamp around his fingers before relaxing, allowing him to go all the way inside of you. anton pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, watching the way his digit disappears inside of you.
“holy shit.” anton whispers.
you clench around his finger, before telling him to put another finger in. anton heeds your request, adding his middle finger to sink into your cunt. you can’t stop your hand from grabbing his bicep. anton stops, and you guide him to a faster pace.
your hold on anton’s bicep doesn’t falter as he picks up the speed. when he takes it upon himself to face his palm upwards the discomfort in his wrist is gone immediately. his fingers can fuck you smoothly when he faces his palm upwards. the confidence anton gets when you close your eyes and turn your head to your shoulder makes him add another finger. he can hear your toes crack as you flex your feet, and anton sees your free hand ball up in the sheets.
“do this with your other hand if you can.”
the words fly out of your mouth at your hand on anton’s bicep goes to your clit. you show anton the speed you like immediately, touching the pearl gently in comparison to anton’s hasty pumping fingers. his free hand goes to your hand, mimicking the movements. when you’re satisfied you move your hand away, letting anton take your place. he falters for a little bit, trying to synchronize his pumping fingers to his gentle hand on your clit. soon enough he can feel you squeezing tightly against his fingers, and your eyes are screwed shut.
“i’m so close.” you say around the teeth digging into your lip.
anton nods, wishing he was good enough at multitasking to kiss your turned cheek. instead anton only nods, sitting down on his bed to get a better angle.
without his body between your legs, your knees close in on eachother. it’s pathetic, the way you whimper and withhold moans as you come undone around anton’s fingers. you’re so quiet he doesn’t know you came. so anton continues, waiting for you to call out his name and announce to him how good he’s making you feel. anton doesn’t know you came until near cries come out, and your hands go to his wrists to stop him. anton looks at you confused, until he sees the tears dotting your vision again and your shaking shoulders. anton experimentally presses a finger harshly to your clit, you jolt and whimper again.
“sorry.” anton says unapologetically.
you fall onto your back, looking up at anton’s ceiling fan. it’s completely turned off, you imagine the blades are spinning to try and occupy your mind. your knees are still closed on eachother and you tremble occasionally. you put all your brainpower into the nonmoving blades to distract yourself from anton’s hands on your thighs that spread you further apart. you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. when his breath fans your center you shiver, still dealing with the after effects of your orgasm. when anton comes so close that his nose pokes your fold you pinch the covers on his bed between your two fingers.
“what should i do?” anton asks.
even if you are not looking at anton, you can tell he’s not all the way there with you. you can feel his eyes boring into your heat, you can almost hear him bringing in your smell. you have to clear your own thoughts to focus getting words out from your dry throat.
“you have to tease first.” you swallow on nothing. “to like build the tension, ya know?”
you don’t know when you’ll drop the act of trying to remain nonchalant. hiding your moans requires self control you don’t have anymore. when anton presses a kiss to your thigh you let him hear the sighs you tried so hard to suppress. anton smiles against your skin when he kisses the other side.
“how should i eat you out?” anton asks.
you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at anton. he’s curious, eyes filled with you as he presses a kiss closer to your cunt. you bring your your legs to rest on his shoulders.
“pretending like you’re making out with me.” you whimper.
anton’s eyes widen at your desperate voice. you can’t bring yourself to care anymore, you can’t hold back when anton keeps eye contact with you as his tongue gets closer and closer to your heat. he looks down at your pussy like it’s his next meal, latching his lips to your clit and sucking.
instantly your back is pressed into the mattress again, squirming as you try to stop yourself from thrusting into anton’s mouth. he’s a step ahead, putting hands underneath your ass to prop your lower half up. he goes into his own groove, letting his tongue occasionally poke past your hole to taste you. when anton compares your noises, he finds himself driven to continue sucking on your clit. he knows he made the right decision when he hears your moan rip through his room for the first time. he looks up to your with satisfaction, when he starts using his fingers to fuck you again your hand grips his hair tightly.
“are you sure you’re a virgin?” you ask genuinely.
when anton’s laugh vibrates against you, you dig your back into the mattress. you pathetically lift your suspended hips into anton’s mouth. you feel euphoria building over you again, and you push antons face back from your pussy with a hand to his forehead.
anton looks at you like a man starved before licking his lips.
“is everything okay?” anton asks.
you nod, a hand going to your face as you wipe sweat away. you close your eyes to save yourself from the stimulation, remaining quiet until your foggy mind can form full sentences again. you sit up fully on the bed and anton’s meets you, bringing you in to kiss him again. you can taste yourself on his lips, and you can feel his wet fingers touch your face. when you pull away you still keep your lips against his.
“do you want to wait until next week—” you look at anton unsure, feeling his hot cheeks underneath the pads of your fingers. you don’t want to assume his feelings for you, or take something he might’ve been saving for someone that isn’t his bestfriend. “do you want to wait until next week to go all the way?” you ask
anton shakes his head, both of his hands going to the side of your head to force eye contact. you look him in the eyes before he brings you in for another big kiss.
“i think i found the confidence to tell you how i feel now.” anton says.
“i’ve wanted you for so long.” you say.
anton nods his head, telling you he’s felt the same way.
“we are a mess.” anton says laughing.
you laugh with him again, your head going to anton’s shoulder as you recall all the moments you both chose to ignore. the fleeting looks, the accidental touches, the almost kisses. it’s almost embarrassing that it took you guys this long to come to terms and to confess, under these circumstances nonetheless. it would’ve been embarrassing if it wasn’t so funny.
anton pulls you from his shoulder and kisses your forehead again, and you grab his face to kiss his forehead back. anton smiles and pecks your lips.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you nod your head, trying to sound as assertive as possible.
“the guy should always bring a condom.” you say it matter-of-factly, holding up a finger like it’s a fact.
anton laughs at you again, before reaching to his drawer. he pulls out an unopened box of condoms, mouth opening getting ready to ask anton a question.
“my dad.” when your eyes widen anton only shakes his head. “don’t ask. please don’t ask.” he says.
you nod your head, grabbing the box from anton to open it. you pull out the first one, tearing it from the foil like and the opening the package. anton watches you pull out the rubber, small in your hand. you look at anton, still clothed, clad in tight jeans that strain against his dick and a shirt that is too hot on him. as if on cue he stumbles over the edge of the bed, taking off his pants and shirt leaving him in his briefs.
when he gets on the bed in the same position, you still hold the condom in your hand. you look at anton twitching in his boxers. you resist the urge to pounce on him when you see the wet patch in his underwear.
“can i see it?” you don’t hide the desperate lift in your voice. anton is nervous, hands pressed flat to his thighs in efforts to wipe off the sweat. “please?” you beg.
anton nods, leaning back on the bed the same way you did when he took your underwear off. you lean forward on the bed, handing the condom to anton and you gently pull his waistband down his legs. you imagine anton wanted to be treated the same way he treated you, slow and gentle like you’re made of glass. by the time his underwear is off his face is red in splotches, the tips of his ears hot to the touch. you would’ve seen anton’s face get more red by the second if you weren’t staring at his dick, it was thick, shooting straight up without the confinements of his briefs. his tip was pink and soft like his lips, and beading endless with precum. the translucent pearls made his dick look like porcelain. you smile at anton before sticking touching his leaking tip gently.
“so pretty.” you coo.
anton shakes his head, his large hand clasping around your wrist when you tried pumping his dick. his sensitivity went without saying, and you didn’t want to waste it either. you tapped on anton’s wrist to make him open his eyes, pointing to the condom in his clenched hand when he looked at you.
“sorry.” anton said.
“don’t apologize.” you pinch the tip of the condom, sliding the band down until anton’s dick is covered completely. “you don’t have to apologize to me.”
anton hisses, bucking his hips up when you experimentally squeeze his length.
“and why is that?” anton asks.
“i’m your bestfriend.” you say casually.
when friend falls from your lips anton scoffs and shakes his head. he checks to see if the condom is on securely, touching his length to see what contact feels like.
“think we are a little more than that now.” anton says under his breath.
you coo at him, pinching his cheeks before letting your hands explore the rest of his body. when you reach anton’s shoulders you gently tug at him, bringing him to you. you let yourself lean back on anton’s bed again as you continue pulling him by his shoulders. when your back is against the sheets anton is hovering over you, and he’s so close that his hair touches your face. he moves a hand to plant into the mattress beside your head to hold himself upright. his other hand grips your hip, a hold so tight like anton thinks you’ll slip away. you’re the same, a white knuckle grip on his shoulders.
you look up at anton, and he swears he sees your eyes soften. they’re gentle and welcoming, like your pupils have become heart shaped. anton uses his hand planted into the mattress to move some hair from your face. you pucker your lips and make a kissing sound, signaling to anton to press his lips against yours. when he pulls back you take a hand from his shoulder and trail it down his body. you look at him with each inch you cover. when anton bites his lip you hesitate, worried that he might suddenly decide he’s not ready. but anton hangs his head low to look between your two bodies, how close your hand is to grabbing his dick again.
he whimpers and instantly goes to the crook of your neck, his sheets balling up in his clenched fists. you pump his dick a few times, wishing to yourself that a condom wasn’t separating the two of you. there will be plenty of time for that later you have to tell yourself. you focus instead on anton, how he hopelessly sucks on the skin of your neck as you jerk him off.
“i really won’t last long.” anton says.
his words are hushed and fan across your skin in warm huffs. you nod, moving your other hand to the back of anton’s head.
“it’s okay.” you continue jerking anton off until he lets out a shaky exhale. you stop pumping, pulling his head from the crook of your neck so you can look at him. “can you help me?” you ask sweetly.
instantly anton nods his head.
“what do you need me to do?” anton asks.
for a moment he thinks he might be crushing you underneath his body weight. before he can pull back your hand that moved to his shoulder blades keeps him in pace. you’re sheepish, the hand that was on anton’s dick goes to his hand that’s on your hip. you wrap your hands around his pinky finger, holding tight as you tug at his hand slightly.
“let’s put it in together.” you say.
anton swallows, both of your hands are slow going back to his dick. the anticipation has you both ready to leap out of your skin, and when you put your hands to anton both of you gasp. it’s a new feeling, your hand over anton’s as he guides his tip to your cunt. you already feel your hole fluttering around nothing, pulsing like a heartbeat. anton has to take his hand away when he gets too close, instead propping his elbow beside your head so he can hover above you.
his lips are already parted, and you see the glossy look in his eyes as you pump his length a few more times.
“are you ready?“ you ask.
you feel nearly out of breath yourself. when you move lower down on the bed anton’s tip prods your entrance, almost inside of you.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you almost close your eyes when you feel anton push his hips against yours—the only thing that keeps them open is so your can look at anton above you. his eyes shut in euphoria as he pushes deeper into you. you don’t tell anton to stop while taking all of him, you revel in the stretch and the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part even more. a whimper slips past anton’s lips and he lets his head hand when he’s all the way in. he whimpers again when you seize around him, and a big hand squeezes on your waist.
“so big.” you whisper to anton.
he stays like that above you for awhile, falling victim to your warm wet fluttering walls and your sweet voice. his grip on your waist is rough but it the only thing keeping him grounded. anton twitches inside of you and he clenches the first next to your head. each attempt to move fails, it’s almost like you’re pulling him back in.
“can i move?” anton asks.
when he lifts his head back up, he sees you wide eyed nodding vigorously. you lift your own hips slightly, giving anton room to pull back to meet you again. he draws a shaky breath as he feels his dick dragging out of you. when he slides back in slowly anton’s head goes to the crook of your neck. your hand goes to anton’s back, pressing gently to bring him closer.
“what does it feel like?” you draw your hips back and forth, giving anton shallow thrusts.
“warm and wet.” anton’s voice shakes as he slowly starts thrusting into you. “like a really nice hug.” he says.
you hum at anton’s observation, desperate to know what it feels like to him. you want to tell anton how good he’s being, how he fits perfectly inside of you and makes you feel full. but this is about anton, you have plenty of time to tell him how he makes you feel later.
you wedge your hand between your bodies and press on your stomach, letting out a sigh when you feel your stomach tighten. anton keeps the slow deep thrusts, panting into the crook of your neck. when he snaps his hips a particular way, an unexpected choked whine slips past your lips. anton pulls away from your skin looking down at you.
anton’s blown out eyes look down at you. you can already see his face becoming red and splotchy as he takes you in. he looks at your lips, where a sound he’s never heard before came from and to your eyes that were wet just like his. the previous accidental thrust becomes purposeful, anton snaps his hips the same way he did before while looking at your face. the sound falls from you again, and you have to fight to keep your eyes open. anton does it again, and you can see his hair and the apples of his cheeks move from the force. the fourth time anton snaps his hips harder, and your back arches off the bed.
“so big.” you say into anton’s ear.
you press your hand deeper into your stomach, ad anton presses his forehead to yours to look down between your two bodies. he looks only for a second before his hooded eyes go back to yours.
his mouth opens as he looks down at you, words caught in his throat as he focuses on thrusting inside of you. but you already know what he’s going to ask. you press your hand deeper into your stomach while nodding your head.
“so deep.” you whine.
anton’s parted lips turn into a smile, a quick smirk that reveals his perfect teeth. you only see it for a second before anton goes back to feeling weak. anton switches his snapping hips to something more languid, trading the harsh slapping for the smooth and wet sound you two make together.
anton’s hair is wet with sweat as you fist it, pulling it away from his face so you can see all of him. you keep his head against yours, pressing gentle kisses to his plush lips.
“you feel so good inside of me, anton.” you tell him.
he can only nod quickly, drops of sweat falling onto you as he picks up the pace. your hand that pressed into your stomach moves to your clit. when you touch the bundle of nerves the moans fall from your lips, moving anton to do the same thing. his sounds are airy gasps, almost crying while yours become pouty.
the two of you no longer speak while you chase your instincts. anton’s languid thrusts turn to rutting hips, and all your reservations flies out the window as you bring your knee to your chest. anton’s hand on your hip helps you, applying force to the back of your thigh to press it closer. the new angle makes anton fuck you deeper and harder, you give up circling your clit to put both hands on anton for stability. he lifts his body from yours slightly, looking down at all of you. when you feel his eyes drift down from your face to your chest, you arch your back to come closer to his mouth. anton gives you a quick look of uncertainty and you soften your features to show him how desperate you feel, how close you are. you don’t get the chance to beg for something more when anton bends his body to attach his lips to your nipple.
you’re quick reacting to anton wet tongue that laves your senstive skin. you’re propping yourself up on one of your elbows in a second, forcing your hand to grip anton’s sheets to find stability. you arch your back and fist anton’s hair, the stimulation from his rutting hips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin makes you pull his hair at the root.
“i’m so close.” you whimper.
you look down at anton, how he is so content sucking on your chest. when he looks up at you with little hearts swimming around in his big brown eyes you let your head lean back.
it’s too fast, you can’t announce you’re cumming before it hits you in full force. your leg twitches as anton’s grip on your thigh tightens, pushing you further to open you up more. he hits deep, and your cries bounce off the walls in his room. you are nearly crying when anton stills inside of you—he didn’t get the chance to warn you either. one moment he had control the next he didn’t, emptying into the condom as your name falls from his parted lips in pants and high-pitched whines. anton has to screw his eyes shut from the relief that takes over his body, and when he finally comes down he slumps against your body completely.
you let anton crush you, loving the feeling of his sweaty body pressing into yours. you can still feel him twitching inside of you and you can still feel your walls flutter around him.
neither of you move until you hear the front door open and anton’s mom call you both down to help bring the groceries inside. the two of you were so caught up in your own world you forgot other people existed. you nearly kicked anton off of you, pushing him backwards so you could put your clothes back on. anton’s door was left open, and you could hear his brother making his way up the stairs. the two of you rushed trying to become decent. you threw on anton’s shirt and almost put your jeans on backwards. anton ended up grabbing a completely new outfit, tripping over his feet as he put his shorts on.
the steps were getting closer to anton’s room when you guys started to desperately smooth out eachother’s features, trying to lay anton’s hair down straight while anton time making his shirt on you not look like his shirt.
his brother did a once over of you and anton, standing in the middle of his room looking frazzled. he decided he didn’t care, walking out of sight as he went into his room.
“mom said to come downstairs.” he said over his shoulder.
“okay.” when anton’s voice sounded too hoarse he cleared his throat. “be down there in a second.” anton said.
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Simple Instructions
Outline: The one thing Ellie loves about being spider-woman is her webs. Yeah, she puts them to great use.
Word count: 450
Warnings: MINORS DNI — SMUT AHEAD + Dom, mean! Ellie + Sub! Reader + Oral + Fingering + Bondage
After a whole day of fighting and webbing around the city being spider-woman. Ellie can return to her other life, one that she rather and wishes she can stay in forever with you. Everyday was a trial. A trial of trying not to be buried six feet under. But that trial ended for today because now she can be buried in between her girlfriend’s legs.
“Ho-ho-holy—shit!” your voice crescendos, trying desperately to move away from Ellie’s mouth, but the sheer iron grip she has on you proves difficult to succeed.
Ellie relinquished in the sweet sounds that came out of your mouth. This was the one thing she looked forward to after a day of fighting to save the world, to come back and be rewarded with this. And while she did tell you to stop squirming a while ago, how can you when she’s made you cum like over two times?!
Ellie moans against you upon feeling your hands tug on her hair, not knowing whether to shove her away or pull her in was your trial.
She replaces her tongue with her fingers, pumping in and out of you as she stares up at you. Your arousal coating a thin layer on the lower half of her face, “You can’t seem to follow simple fucking instructions, huh?” she rebukes.
“I’m…sorr-sorry.” You whimper, trying your best to follow your girlfriend’s past instructions to stay still, but you really weren’t the type to listen, were you?
The loss of her fingers causes you to whimper, but you can’t even process what’s happening until you look up at your hands as they’re above your head with now webs entrapping them. You feel more pressure but this time on your legs, you gasp when you look down to see your legs webbed up as-well. They’re positioned so you can’t close your legs around her head.
“Can’t go anywhere now, huh baby?” She fakes a pout, but can’t help herself any longer and smiles, proud of the work in front of her. You try to squirm against the white sticky substance, but just like her grip, it’s proven to be difficult.
A moan escapes your lips immediately when you feel her mouth on your core once more. Intoxicated by the overwhelming pleasure, you start trying moving again, but can’t.
Ellie seems to notice this and starts to laugh meanly, “You said you can take whatever I give you, baby. So honor that shit.” she says before lowering herself down once more, moaning against your core, savoring in the sweet taste of you.
How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE.
a/n; AHHHH MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT!! Be kind…
Perm taglist: @elliesprettygirl, @dyk3ang3l, @ellies2fingers, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @k1ssesworld
Ellie Only fics: @herelieskrisy, @mikellie, @slaysksmska, @mina-281, @teawithnosugar, @kitkatkittycat111
#𝐘ᱹ writes ✐ᝰ#ellie williams#spider-man! ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x f! reader#ellie williams x smut reader#ellie williams au#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams imagine#the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x reader smut#tlou x reader smut#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams fan fic#ellie fanfics#ellie fanfic#ellie smut#ellie x you#tlou smut#tlou#tlou2#wlw#lesbian
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Homecoming
Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!reader
Genre: Sickfic, hurt comfort
Warnings: Slight manga spoilers
Requests: Closed*
a/n: hello hello! (is acting like i haven’t been gone for forever), can you believe i found this just sitting on a random note in my phone 90% done???? i literally wrote this over a year ago and never found the motivation to finish it ;-; due to its age toshi might be a bit ooc.
anyways, i’m not entirely back yet but i keep seeing lovely comments and reblogs that just make me want to start writing again ;-; maybe with the haikyuu movie being released soon my motivation will amp back up. ALSO i’m gonna try to start reblogging regularly again
*request box is still technically “closed” but if anyone has some genshin or *ahem* Baldurs gate 3 requests, i may be inclined to write if they pique my interest :)
enjoy!
If there was one thing that you knew for an absolute fact. it would be that volleyball would always be his main priority.
You knew this well before you started dating him, it was part of the reason you refused to admit your true feelings for him. You refused to take him away from his first love. Something that he was so visibly passionate about.
So you stayed on the sidelines, watching wistfully as the boy you had a crush on rose higher and higher, while you stood on the ground looking up in awe. This was comfortable, you were content with just watching and admiring. It was all you thought you were able to do.
Until he had asked you out first.
You had genuinely thought that Tendou was joking when he had told you that the Ushijima Wakatoshi saw you as anything more than one of the team’s managers.
His face was always devoid of emotion. Your interactions were limited to him nodding in thanks as you gave him a towel or water bottle, or him humming in acknowledgment as you relayed to him the notes you took after the most recent practice match.
And yet you found yourself standing in front of him, just outside the gym after practice, heart absolutely racing as he asked you out on a date.
Your first date was awkward to say the least. Having never spoken outside of club activities, you found it hard to keep a conversation flowing as you two sat in a cafe sipping your drinks.
He had walked you back to your dorm that day, but before you could go in, he had grabbed your hand.
You stared in shock at the large hand enveloping yours, “Ushijima?”
Suddenly, you felt a tiny gust of wind and a slight pressure against your forehead. You could only stammer dumbly as you realized the pressure was his lips.
He pulled away after a moment. He was heavily avoiding eye contact and turned his head to the side, but you could see the tips of his ears turning red.
“I don’t know much when it comes to this stuff. But I know I would like to go out again… if that’s okay with you of course.”
You gaped at the boy in front of you “I- um we…” you took a deep breath to centre yourself and smiled “Yes I would like to go out with you again Ushijima.”
Your relationship progressed quite fast after that. More dates, hanging out with him and Tendou in their dorm.
You were there for everything, cheering him on during games, you were the first person he would seek out when he won, you comforted him after a loss.
Your relationship lasted through high school and even university. It wasn’t long before you two ended up moving in together.
When Wakatoshi found his place with the Schweiden Adlers you were ecstatic. You had also just landed a great job and it felt like your two were simply cruising through life with ease.
Unfortunately your seemingly perfect life would never last forever.
Being in the v-league, volleyball seemed to fill his schedule more now than ever. Constant practice, games outside of the city even in other countries sometimes.
You hardly saw Ushijima anymore despite living with him. Even when you did, he was tired or just about to leave for practice.
It felt like you were pushed back into the sidelines. Watching hopelessly as he rose higher and higher, to places where you could not reach. It was no longer comfortable, you could no longer look in awe, but in despair as you watch him slip from the already loose grasp you had on him.
You couldn’t even remember the last time you went on a date. Every time you mentioned doing something in his free time he had brushed you off.
Which led you to now.
You woke up to an empty bed yet again. It was your day off so you weren’t rushing to get out of bed.
Yet you felt off.
The dryness in your mouth and throat is what you felt first. Then how runny your nose was. Finally, the cold sweat you were experiencing.
You were definitely sick.
You groaned to yourself and pulled the blanket to your chin. Hoping that you could possibly sleep it off.
Yet your efforts were in vain. After what felt like hours of trying to fall back asleep you realized that you were just going to feel even more miserable without anything to eat or at least drink.
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and immediately regretted it. The world spun around you and your entire body shook. You collapsed back onto your pillow and panted at the exertion it took.
As you caught your breath you turned your head towards your bedside table, where your phone sat charging.
Weakly, you lifted your arm and with a bit of effort you were able to grab your phone. As it turned on you winced at how bright the screen was and with bleary eyes you managed to open your contacts.
The words seemed to blend together as you searched through your contacts, you nearly sobbed in relief as your eyes finally focused on the name of your best friend.
You clicked the call button and dropped you hand to beside your ear, preparing for the way your throat would undoubtedly hurt as you spoke.
After a couple rings you heard the person on the other side pick up and you quickly began speaking, desperate to get them to come quickly so that you could hopefully feel better.
“Hey, I’m sorry if you’re busy but do you think you can bring me some drinks and maybe food? i’m not feeling the best and I don’t know if I can get up at all.”
The person on the other end of the phone began talking but you could barely decipher it as your head spun and your body shivered despite how warm you were.
“-/n….y/n?”
You froze at the deep voice on the other side of the phone. You pulled away an looked at the screen, nearly breaking down at the sight of Wakatoshi’s name instead of your friends. Quickly you put it back against your ear
“Ah I’m sorry Toshi. I meant to call a friend you’re probably busy you don’t have to come back home.” you said quickly, actually sitting up as you rambled nervously, reprimanding yourself for interrupting his practice.
You had called and texted him during practice before. At one point he was fine with it, responding during breaks or calling you back once practice had finished. But lately you had been greeted with one worded responses, or you were just ignored.
One time you even tried to pry once he got home from practice, asking him about his odd lack of response. That day, he had turned to glare at you.
“I’m busy y/n. I don’t have time for things like that.”
“You’re sick?” your thoughts were interrupted by his voice again. He used a tone much gentler than the one he had used that day.
“A little bit, nothing to worry about I can just call-“ you cut yourself off with a harsh cough, unable to hold back the whimper as your throat throbbed in protest.
“I’m coming home.”
Whether from his words or the fever you couldn’t tell, but a chill ran down your spine
“N-no toshi you don’t have to I’ll be fine don’t leave practice just because of me”
“I’ll stop by the store for some ingredients don’t get out of bed.”
And with that the call ended. Slowly, you took the phone away from your ear and looked at it in shock. He was leaving practice early. Something you weren’t aware he was willing to ever do.
At least not recently.
Only when the shock settled, did you realize just how much your body was protesting you sitting up. So, despite your better judgment, you lied back down, waiting in nervous anticipation for him to come home.
What might have been half an hour felt like forever as you laid in bed. Shivering underneath the comforter despite sweating profusely, rubbing your nose raw from having to blow it constantly, all whilst it felt like you were spinning.
In your haze you didn’t even hear the front door or you bedroom door open. How could you when your body demanded all the attention you had?
Wakatoshi stood frozen in the doorway, a plastic bag hanging off his arm, silent as he took in the state you were in.
How hadn’t he noticed before he left? you couldn’t have possibly entered this state within the couple of hours he was gone.
He felt a tug of unease pull at his heart and willed himself to walk up to you.
“y/n,” he called softly. sitting on your side of the bed.
You flinched at the sound of his voice not knowing he was in the room. Slowly, you opened your eyes and winced at the light in the room.
“Toshi,” you croaked pathetically.
His face softened and he brushed your damp hair away from your face, frowning when he felt how warm your forehead was.
“Hey,” he greeted, he lifted a hand and that’s when you saw a thermometer from the medicine cabinet in his hand “can you open your mouth please?“
Weakly, you did as he asked, and as it sat in your mouth, he quickly walked towards the master bathroom. Mumbling something about a towel.
You didn’t hear him however as you turned your head back towards the ceiling and already felt your eyes drooping again.
You only came to when you felt something cool against your forehead, you opened your eyes to see Toshi looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. The thermometer beeped and when he looked at the reading the crease deepened.
Toshi disappeared for a moment again, making his presence known when he began to take the comforter off of you.
You whined as he did so, shivering even harder as air hit your body. You even sat up to try and grab it back.
“‘s cold toshi,” you slurred.
He was quick to place a thinner sheet on top of you “I know dear, but we have to get your body temperature down.”
As you pulled the blanket closer Wakatoshi opened the bag he brought with him. You heard the rattle of a pill container and then the crack of a bottle being opened. Wakatoshi turned to you and held out some medicine and water.
You reached out a shaky hand to take the medicine, placing the pill in your mouth. Wakatoshi helped you hold the bottle, noting how weak your arms were.
You sighed in temporary relief when you finished drinking, glad that your mouth felt less dry.
Wakatoshi allowed a small relieved smile to cross his face and he quickly helped you lay back down.
“I’ll make you some food, stay here.”
Once he was sure you were comfortable he made his way to the kitchen quickly getting his ingredients ready.
It was only when he was midway through washing some rice when he took a moment to pause.
When was the last time he had cooked for you?
Wakatoshi continued his task albeit feeling guilty thinking about how you’ve been the one cooking and eating dinner alone for some time now. It used to be a shared responsibility. Now he usually came home late so you would put a plate aside for him or he would go out to eat with the team.
He was still deep in though as he pushed the bedroom door open with his back, a tray consisting of a bowl of rice porridge and a cup of tea left a trail small trail of steam as he walked.
You were asleep but woke easily at the sound of his footsteps. It took a moment for your eyes to focus on him.
He gestured with the tray, “Do you think you can eat?”
You looked at the food, perfectly plated and garnished, your mouth watering slightly at the savoury smell.
“I think so. At least a little bit.”
He helped you sit up, and when he saw the weakness still in your arms he fed you himself.
You hummed contently at the first bite of food. You had missed this more than you thought you did.
After about half the bowl was done and your tea finished, you signalled that you stomached as much as your body would allow. Now with your body temperature having gone down and your stomach full you could feel yourself becoming less and less loopy. You watched quietly as he put the tray on the bedside table. When he was finished with that, he sat still on the bed and stared at the wall.
You looked at his face, despite it deceptively lacking emotion, you knew better than anyone else that something was bothering him.
However before you could ask he began to speak
“Why wasn’t I the first person you contacted when you realized that you were sick?”
You froze, looking down in your lap fiddling wIth a loose thread in the blanket.
“…Well…you’ve been busy as of late….I didn’t think it was important enough to take you out of practice. Someone less busy would have probably been willing to come.”
He slowly turned to face you. “You didn’t think that your wellbeing was important enough?”
You shrugged, “Well volleyball is always going to be your biggest priority. I’m just sick it’ll pass.”
Obvious distress crossed Ushijima’s face “y/n, you are my main priority.”
You paused. Perhaps it was time to tell him how you were really feeling instead of dancing around the subject.
“…It hasn’t felt that way lately.” you say hesitantly, your voice small.
Wakatoshi faltered. You kept looking down, almost scared to look him in the eye.
“I was content with that at first, your love of volleyball is admirable, it’s was drew me to you at first. But it always made you seem unattainable. When you asked me on that date all those years ago I was over the moon,” you paused to clear your throat huffing in annoyance as your sickness interrupted you.
“But I can only endure so much Toshi. Nowadays it feels like your going where I can’t reach. You’re always busy, which is understandable for a professional athlete… I just wish it wasn’t to the point where I’m worried about your reaction if I were to try to talk to you.”
There was a shift in the mattress. Then familiar arms that you had been longing for wrapped tightly around you.
“Toshi you’re gonna get sick.”
“It’s fine,”
“but-“
“I’m sorry y/n.”
you stiffened but stayed quiet to let him speak.
“You’ve done so much for me without complaint and I have done so little in return. i’m sorry for letting it get to this point. It took you getting this sick for me to realize.”
A stormy look crossed his face, “I… I’ve been struggling to balance work and home, in return I’ve been neglecting you and letting how tired I am influence my reactions. you don’t deserve that. you are my first priority y/n, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
You sniffled and wiped a tear that fell from your face. You didn’t even know you were crying. For a man usually so quiet and stoic, he always knew what to say to you when he needed to. It was always so endearing to you.
“If I had known you were going to take it this well I would’ve said something earlier,” you say softly.
He smiles sadly, “I haven’t been making it seem that way hmm?”
You shake you’re head but smile back, “no”
He sighs to himself but places a gentle kiss against your forehead much like how he did all those years ago. Your eyes flutter shut and you make let out a pleased sigh. You were much more comfortable than you were when you first woke up.
“We’ll talk more once you get better. I promise,” He eventually says. holding you a bit closer to him.
You nodded and snuggled closer to his chest. While it wasn’t an immediate fix, it was a start.
“Sounds good to me Toshi.”
He smiled down at you “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu reader insert#haikyuu oneshot#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu!! x reader#ushijima x you#ushijima imagine#ushijima x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#wakatoshi x reader#haikyuu wakatoshi#hq angst#haikyuu angst
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Love Languages
Xaden, Liam, Bodhi, Garrick x Reader
Warnings: Slight spoilers for FW and IF, some suggestive comments and themes but nothing too explicit
a/n: I love these men a little bit too much, so now you all get to enjoy my takes on each of their love languages for my first post🤭. It’s a little short and all over the place, but once my finals are over expect some longer works. Definitely let me know what you all think!
Xaden - Acts of Service
Listen, he's an important guy both as wingleader and a lieutenant and now in being on the front lines of a war, so he has to make sure to keep everyone's respect, and of course keep them all a little scared of him, so he can't get all lovey-dovey with you in public
Instead I see him being big on acts of service. Leaving you an extra piece of bread he grabbed at breakfast that morning, sharpening your swords/daggers so you're set to go for training, things of that nature
He would want to be there for you and let you know that he's looking out for you and acts of service is the perfect way for him to do that subtly but still being more involved in directly making you happy
Don't get me wrong though, when you're alone the acts of service definitely don't stop and he's good at what he does. With this I don’t mean JUST sex (even though it’d be amazing), but he would also love to brush your hair, give you a massage, whatever he can do to make you feel loved and cared for after a long day of classes and training
If there’s something specific you liked back home like a specific snack or item just know that once he finds out he’s going to be bribing one of the fliers to get it for him during a supply run so he can surprise you with it just so he can see your face light up
It works out perfect for you because not only is he making you feel like the most special person in the world with everything he does for you and how well he knows you, but getting perks like him keeping you off the schedule for your least favorite chores doesn't hurt either
The moral of the story is that he would literally do anything to make you happy, and despite how tough he acts you've got him completely wrapped around you finger
Liam - Words of Affirmation
For someone who's experienced so much loss before, he still manages to be SO kind and caring and this would 100% come through in the way he acts with his significant other, especially in terms of how he speaks to them
In public this would probably come off more as supportive and encouraging comments, helpful tips for training, or even just a quick compliment thrown in here or there. He's one of the more laid back out of all of the guys, but he still knows not to let his kindness be mistaken for weakness or allow anyone to try and use you against him, so he's careful to keep a good balance of keeping his guard up and being sweet with you
With that though, neither of you really have anything to worry about. He's the strongest cadet in his year and he trusts that you can hold your own so he'd still be pretty open with you in public
He's the type of guy who would never want to say goodbye without an 'I love you" thrown in there, even if you'd had a disagreement or you're (somehow) upset with him. Words are so important to him and he's going to make sure to tell you how he feels no matter what
I mean think about it, with all those letter he wrote to Sloane this man is a master at communication and he knows how to do it well
SO good at reassuring you. Ever doubting yourself or your abilities? Worried you’re not being a good enough partner? Nervous about opening up to him about something? He knows exactly what to say to calm you down or make you feel better every single time without fail. He just has such a way with words, and when he speaks to you in that soft "everything's going to be alright" voice there's no way you wouldn't feel at least a bit better
I have no doubt in my mind that he would have the sweetest nicknames for you and know exactly what to say when you need it, he’s just the sweetest thing to grace the continent and you’ll be reminded of that every time he speaks his sweet words that make your heart flutter
Bodhi - Physical Touch
This man... I definitely see him lovinggg physical touch. He needs you like he needs air to breathe and he isn't afraid to let the rest of the world know it
He's a confident guy so naturally he'd love to show off his significant other; walking with an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist, sitting right next to you during meals so that your arms and legs brush against each other, holding hands or even just loosely linking your fingers together while you study, he loves it all
You two have definitely been told to get a room once or twice during training when your sparring sessions get a little too intense (gods bless the innocent bystanders who have to bear witness to that, especially the poor boys who are practically his brothers)
Obviously he knows how to balance his leadership responsibilities with spending time with you so he knows when he has to take a step back and get serious, but trust me, every chance he gets he's finding a way to be right next to you
When you guys are alone... oh boy get ready to be next to him all night long. Whether you’re laying together on one of your beds just talking before you settle in to sleep for the night, sitting on his lap while you both work on your own assignments, showering together, he’ll find a way to make everything a team effort just to be as close to you as possible
Don’t worry though, he knows when to give you your space so if there’s ever a day where you simply want a little alone time he would never push any boundaries and would respect whatever you wanted. However, if you’re trying to avoid him because you’re upset or anything of that nature he’s going to figure out what’s wrong and make sure you’re alright
Bodhi Durran the man that you are... At the end of the day he would be such a sweet partner to you and all of his actions, from full on cuddling to just brushing past each other briefly in the hallway, proves to you every day that he adores you
Garrick - Quality Time
Garrick is definitely more on the serious side, especially in public, but don't underestimate him as a partner because this man knows how to make you feel loved
Being close to you serves multiple purposes for him; it lets him keep an eye on you to make sure you're safe, and it simply brings him the sense of comfort he always gets from being near you
He’s super secure in himself and you, not doubting either of your abilities or your love for one another but just getting to be around you makes him happy. Whether it be sitting together to study, you talking his ear off about whatever antics you and your squad got up to that day, or even just training at the same time even if you’re on opposite sides of the gym sparring with different partners. Spending time with you or just being near each other is how he shows that he's there for you and that he loves you so he'll take whatever time he can get
With spending so much time with you and the fact that he’s a very observant guy, he would be able to read you like a book. There’s no hiding how you’re feeling because he’ll pick up on all of your little tells and know exactly how to go about making you feel better
Along with how observant he is and how deeply he knows you, I also feel like he would give amazing advice too. Disagreement with a friend? Not able to get the hang of a new weapon you’ve been training with? Stressed about an exam and not sure how to study? He has advice for all of it, and he knows when to step in and help you but also when you’ll want to be left alone to figure things out yourself
Whenever you both get a day off (which wouldn’t be often, I mean you have a war to prepare for) it’s always spent together. When you’re able to get some time together in Aretia, he’d take you to some tucked away corner of Riorson House him and Xaden would hang out in as kids just so you could get a few uninterrupted moments alone together, which you both cherish more and more as you inevitably get busier
He might be one of the most intimidating out of all of his friends and arguably out of most other riders as well, but underneath that sexy muscly exterior, he’s got a crazy soft spot for you; and while it might not be fully apparent to anyone who isn’t looking closely enough, you know just how much he loves you and that’s all that matters to the two of you
#fourth wing#fourth wing x reader#iron flame#iron flame x reader#xaden riorson#liam mairi#bodhi durran#garrick tavis#xaden riorson x reader#liam mairi x reader#bodhi durran x reader#garrick tavis x reader
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Not good at saying goodbyes.
Part 2/? - previous - next
Lena Oberdorf × Reader
And here you were about to turn 23, you were a late bloomer in football. Only having a big boom in the past two years, playing for Barcelona.
You were set to play the euros for your national team, as you already did play for the qualifiers. You had finally been called up to play, and represent your country. That was, Spain. Despite being born and raised in Germany, you were only a little girl. The most memories you had in football was unfortunately made in Spain. It had been almost 15 years. So it felt like the right thing.
If someone would have told you that then, you would never believe them. You would say there was no way, and you would take the first chance you had, to go 'home'.
But you followed your path, with the best opportunities you had, presented to you. And that's how you ended up where you were now. On a top team, being among awarded players. And you were happy. Really. But something was always missing, and you couldn't figure out what it was.
Asking for a transfer to Bayern Munich as a loan, was a slight desperate try, at trying to fix that feeling.
And the deal had been settled.
And you were feeling great and confident, despite knowing you would have to sooner or later face your old friend, but for only 90 minutes max.
Your plans had been frustrated when a week after the announcement over your contract, Bayern announced another transfer. From Wolfsburg. The very same girl you couldn't stop worrying about.
You deeply hoped you would be better at hello, better than you ever were at goodbyes.
Not knowing where to start was tough. After all besides the loss of contact, you had so many chances of reconnecting. But you both chose not to.
You, because you were extremely scared of the rejection. And her, simply because she was still not over how betrayed she felt, even after all this time.
You didn't know what you were expecting, but being humiliated by having your existence ignored, was not on your list of possibilities.
You came in, to get ready for your first day. Georgia came over to try and fit you in.
"Hello! It's nice to have you here already! Your spanish right? Do you have a german family? You have a german last name."
"Well yeah, I was actually born here, but I grew up there."
"Really? But you play for the national team no?" she asked as you two moved outside.
"Yes, played for them first time this year."
"Hola!" - said Giulia coming close to you.
"She's speaks english and german probably." - said Georgia stoping her friend from embarrassing herself with bad spanish.
"Yes, english or german, or spanish, whatever you prefer."
"We're so excited to have you here, come I'll take you around, you can meet everyone."
And you did. But when you were about to approach Lena and Lea, she simply walked away.
"Hey, sorry about her." - said Lea, with a tight lip smile.
"It's fine."
But it hurt. And it was only going to get worse.
Every chance she had to pass you the ball, she didn't. Everyone noticed at this point. And in the locker room, she didn't make an effort to hide the fact that your presence bothered her.
From that day on, that's what it was like.
You knew you deserved a cold shoulder, but this was too much, and it started taking a tow on you.
You decided to move back to Germany, trying to fill a small void you had deep down, not to make it feel worse. Had you made the right decision?
"Good morning Y/N!" as she caught up with you on the parking lot.
"Morning Georgia."
"I know it's none of my business and you probably don't even know, since you just met. But is there something wrong between you and Oberdorf?"
"Uhm-" in a way you were kinda glad to be cut off.
"I'm sorry it's just been so weird. We've never had something like this happen in the team."
"I'll try talking to her."
You hated the unwanted attention, especially on something you were so sensitive about.
But she was one of your captains, if she came up to say something like that, it was probably because she wanted to sort it out.
Lena's pov
"You need to try and be more subtle, the girls are worried about the team's harmony." - said Lea to her friend.
"I'm not going to play my feelings down!"
"I'm not asking you to. But at least inside the pitch, you need to put your feelings a side momentarily. You can't let this harm our team's performance."
"See that's exactly what your doing!"
"Lena! You just got here. You can't risk this over pride. You don't need to talk to her, just play football like I know you can."
This time she only nodded. This couldn't be bigger than her career. And that she agreed on.
reader's pov
During training today, it felt like something was different. Besides the fact you had fallen in the same group as Lena. And you two did football like you used to. So much, you had beaten the opposite group on 5-1. Something that hadn't happened yet since your first day. Her passes from the middle field to your position as a left winger, made sure that most balls got into the penalty area so Lea and Pernille could manage goals.
The way she had been acting made you think something between you had changed. That gave you a little hope as you went to talk to her, later in the locker room.
"Hey... I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize." - You said barely above a whisper.
"I don't want your apologies. I'm not doing this for you."
"Still, I need to apologize. There's no excuse to what I've done and-"
"Your right there's no excuse." she said dryly as she walked away.
You felt like someone grabbed your heart that was already holding on to it's pieces, and smashed it against a wall.
You never thought you would see this side of her. In reality that part of her had only been created after the harsh reality had hit her all those years ago.
Like you had drove her to create the best side of her. The kind, funny and quick witted one, you had managed to do the same, but for the worse.
You moved as quick as you could into a stall, and cried your eyes out, as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough though, apparently.
"Y/N? It's Giulia." She said softly as she sat down next to you, outside the stall. "Do you need anything?"
You were quiet for a few minutes.
"A hug?" whispering back.
You sounded like a little girl, scared off by the monsters under her bed.
"Of course."
You got up and unlocked the door, as you walked into her arms.
"You don't owe me an explanation. But if you need to talk, I'm here."
"Did you hear any of it?"
"Yeah."
"We were childhood best friends. When I had to leave the country. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't."
"How old were you?"
"About eight."
"You were just a kid!"
"It's still my fault."
"Honey no! You were so young, I can't imagine how it was for you. You were about to lose everything you knew. You can't spend the rest of your life carrying this weight!"
"Well even if it was a child's mistake, I have lost her forever. If I could go back in time I would."
"I believe you. Just give her a little time, and she'll see it too. What you two did today was amazing! You guys were synced like one. I saw a slight tiny smile on her face when you assisted those two goals."
"Really?"
"Yes, it was in her eyes. She is really good at keeping a straight face, but I'm better at reading people."
"Thank you. I haven't talked about this in years."
"I'm here. Now let's get you home, do you need a ride?"
"No, I'm good, I drove here."
"Okay. Anything, you call me, yeah?"
We'll probably have four or five parts on this fic 🩷
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HELLO ARIIII🤭 could i maybe have first times with kakucho? it doesnt have to be virginity loss, it can be just your first time together but i leave the choice to you🫶 maybe have him a bit on the more vulnerable side/insecure side at first?
-> you’re new to this, aren’t you? | 2,001 words. afab!reader, vulnerable!kakucho, slight angst/hurt + comfort vibes, cunnilingus (reader!receiving), fingering (reader!receiving), reader teaches kakucho how to eat (their) pussy basically, reader calls kakucho "baby, kakucho calls reader "pretty baby", haitani slander bc i can never leave ran and rindou alone ever lmfao
a/n: snow u know i love a good vulnerable big man concept <3 i hope i did this well for u!! i know i like to write kakucho as being experienced but having you be his first real relationship and wanting to teach him is so sexy of him :( god i wanna suck the skin off him jfc
“You’re new to this, aren’t you?”
You feel Kakucho’s breath still in his chest, his hands freezing on your skin. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, but his white teeth flash as he gnaws at his bottom lip. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can sense what he means. I am new to this. Nobody’s ever wanted me like this before.
It stings in your chest, the realization, and you reach up to cup his cheeks, brushing your thumb across the scar winding along the side of his face. He flinches, but you don’t stop.
“Hey. Talk to me.”
His breath is ragged when he finally sucks oxygen in, and he looks at you pointedly, hands firm on your chest, grasping your breasts tightly as if they’ll keep him from floating away. As if they’ll keep him grounded with whatever he’s about to say.
“S-Sorry, I—”
“Don’t apologize, Kaku. It’s okay, baby.”
Another ragged breath. “Thank you. I-I am new to this, just…I’ve done things before but not with someone who- someone who loves me like you love me and I’m…I’m scared of fucking up.”
His voice grows smaller and quieter as he continues on with his confession, and he moves away from you, attempting to cover his face with his hands, leaving you cold from the sudden loss of body heat. You follow him, though, connected to him like a magnet as you grasp his hands, moving them away from his face. There’s a rage within you, aggressively boiling up as his words sink in.
You and Kakucho were relatively new to the whole sex thing. YOu’d had plenty of partners before, and Kakucho had not; there wasn’t exactly a lot of time to get down and dirty when you’re in a gang; although the Haitanis seemed to disprove that statement, but then again, it’s also the Haitanis.
You’d suggested it today, when you were feeling a little frisky, and he’d approached you gently, removing your shirt and bra expertly, but in actually doing anything beyond kissing, he seemed to fumble and be very insecure about his movements. It almost felt like someone had scolded him into telling him he didn’t do anything right; which wasn’t true, he did know what he was doing on a basic level, but he just needed some fine-tuning.
It makes you angry to know there was someone, or multiple someones, who used the man sitting before you; not teaching him how to pleasure someone properly, or not caring about him enough to bother. Or, even worse, not being intimate with him in a way where he had a chance to gain experience in the first place. The man who’d do anything for you, who makes you dinner on a rough day, who covers the chores when all you want to do is rot in bed all day, who is always there to dry your tears and hold you.
You’d do the same for him, of course. That’s what you’re doing now as you drag him into your embrace, pressing his face into your chest. He takes a deep breath again, and you feel something wet against your skin. You can tell he’s crying; you coo at him, running your nails along his buzz cut, pressing kisses against his temple and scalp and anywhere you can reach as you lay back down, refusing to let him go and run off and isolate himself.
“It’s okay, I promise it’s okay,” you repeat over and over, like a mantra in his ear as he silently cries, tears dripping onto your bare chest and sliding down your sternum.
“A-Are you sure?”
You stiffen, digging your nails into his scalp. “Yes. Why would I have said that if I didn’t mean it?”
“Well, other people have—”
You push his head up, cupping his face again so he can look directly at you again. Your eyebrows are furrowed, that anger still bubbling underneath your skin as you stare into him, the glassy red-and-white stare of the man you love so much the only thing stopping you from not leaving right now and finding the addresses of all the people who have slighted him.
He didn’t deserve that, as much as he thinks he does.
“You didn’t deserve that, Kakucho.”
At the mention of his full name, he flinches again, but it’s not out of fear. It’s out of surprise, like he’s shocked you care this much about him, but he nods. He clearly expects you to stop, but your hands are firm against his face as you keep going.
“You didn’t deserve that at all. I love you, okay?” you say, your voice rising slightly in volume, firm and rock solid, giving him something he can cling onto, “I love you so much, and I want this with you, and I want to help you. I want to teach you. I want you, all of you, and I don’t care if you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. I’m happy to show you how to do all this, I promise. It’s never a problem.”
You can see another wave of tears rising in his eyes as you speak to him, your words weaving themselves into his brain, imprinting on it. It’ll take him a lot longer to gain that confidence back, of course, but this is a start. The tears are no longer saddening tears; they’re happy, relieved as he pulls you into a tight hug, holding onto you like you’ll slip away.
“God, I love you so much,” he whispers shakily into your ear, and you can’t help but giggle at him, rubbing his bare back with your fingers. “Of course, Kaku,” you whisper back, “of course.”
Then, you drag your nails across his back instead, and he lets out a full-body shudder and a growl into your ear. “Fuck, do that again,” he says, his voice low, and as you do, he makes another groaning noise and pushes you back onto the bed, wiping away his tears.
“Fuck, okay, fuck, you’re perfect.”
He breathes it like a prayer as he dives back onto your chest, swirling a nipple around in his mouth, but not exactly correct. It’s a little sloppy, not the level you need him at, and you tap him on the head. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, and you have to collect yourself so you don’t just babble nonsense to him.
“Swirl it like you’re licking a lollipop.”
He swirls his tongue just as you say, and your hips jerk into his own, the motion just right.
Perfect, even.
“God, you pick up on things quickly, huh?” you tease as he moves to the other nipple, your sentence cutting off in a moan as he does the same to the other nipple. You can feel his lips moving into a smirk against you as he breathes against the hardened nipple, gently sucking on it.
“What can I say? I learn fast.”
He makes his way down, his thumbs hooking into your pants and underwear as he pulls them off in one go, and his hot breath against your dripping center has you whining for him, your hips twitching at the feeling of his tongue against you. You need it, you need it so badly—
His tongue takes one long, slow lick from your hole to your clit, flicking against the nub, but it’s not quite where you want it to be. You let him do it again, before you grip his head and tap him, causing him to look up at you in question. His cheeks are bright red with blush, like a puppy. If he’d had a tail, you’d imagine it’d be wagging while he waits for you.
You take a deep breath. “Stick your tongue out.”
He complies, and you push his head against you, allowing the wet tip of his tongue to traverse your lips and crevices, until they land on the one spot that makes you see stars. You jerk up into his mouth when his tongue skirts across it, and it’s like you’re beaming the message into his brain, because he doubles down on that specific spot, swirling across it like he did with your nipples.
Holy shit.
“Do it in a figure eight,” you stammer out, using your finger to draw a figure eight in the air. He blinks at you, before nodding and trying it, and fuck, you could’ve cum right there watching him comply so innocently with your commands. Seeing him so pliant beneath you, learning what gets you off, was such a hot circumstance to be in that the room felt like it’d been raised a few degrees. The coil in your stomach is hot, tight and warm, and—
Suddenly, he stops, and he moves away to look up at you.
“Am I good?”
You stare at him incredulously. “What?”
He repeats the question, his hands gripping the fat of your hips so tightly that it might bruise.
It felt good.
You blink at him. “I—yes, but—”
He smirks at you, although the embarrassment is still strong in his eyes as he dives back into you. “Jus’ wanna make you feel good, baby,” he mumbles against you as he takes up his movements again in a faster motion, and you let out a loud moan, nodding. “You’re so good, Kaku, so good for me—”
He murmurs against you. “Can I…can I finger you?”
You laugh at the innocence of the statement, before nodding aggressively as his tongue flicks against you again. “Yes, God, yes,” you breathe, and one of his thick fingers slides in only a beat later. It’s getting more difficult to concentrate on teaching him how to do this, mainly because he is taking to how to pleasure you like a fish to water. It’s insane how fast he’s learning the spots that make you squirm; he’s perceptive, you knew that already, but this is another level. It’s like he’s turned all of his senses up to eleven to detect even the slightest discomfort.
“Up a little bit.”
“There?”
“To the side.”
“How about there?”
“Can you curl your—oh, shit—”
Not only does he add another finger, but he curls his fingers against that spongey spot inside of you and that does it. “Fuck, Kaku, ‘m gonna—”
“You’re gonna cum for me, pretty baby?”
“Fuck!”
At the pet name, the dam bursts, and you cream all over his fingers, shaking and sputtering against him. His mouth is on you in a second, licking and sucking up all of your wetness that dribbles out of you. He doesn’t stop, unknowingly about to fuck you into overstimulation as you cry out, twitching against him as he curls and scissors his fingers inside of you. It’s hitting all the sensitive areas inside of you, and by the time you finally come down and his fingers slide out, his chin is wet with your essence, looking up at you with a reddened face.
“Did I do good?” he whispers, and you pull him up, your gaze softened with the post-climax daze. You pull him close, tucking him underneath your chin, and sighing.
“Yeah, you did good. Great. High marks across the board.”
His chest rumbles with a laugh as he moves to tuck you into his own chest, letting you melt against him, his large hands skating across your back. “Thank you,” he breathes, and you look up at him with a smile, before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Of course, baby,” you respond, and his face gets even more red, bashfulness flooding his eyes.
“Can I ask you something?”
You cock your head. “Yeah?”
He looks away from you, as if weighing the consequences of his request he’s about to ask. When he does, heat floods down to your core, turning you on again so fast that you see stars.
“Can I…do that again?”
You giggle against him.
“Of course. Call it an assessment of your skills you’ve learned so far.”
divider credit: @/benkeibear
networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network
disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!
© kakuchari 2023-2024
#📩 ari's got mail!#suyacho#📝 ari's autographs#kakucho x reader#kakucho hitto x reader#hitto kakucho x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#kakucho#tr#spicy#this was so much fun to write LOLOLOLOL i love him i want to give him a cozy blanket and a cup of warm lemon tea :(
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag
I was tagged by @anamoon63 and @bool-prop, thank you very much! I chose Mia because I miss her dearly and I need to zip over to Isla Paradiso and visit her ASAP!
Subject: Mia Nichols
What uncommon/common fear do they have?
Mia’s uncommon fear is another one of her lovers dying. Her common fear is that something happens to her mother, Nanette.
Do they have any pet peeves?
Cookie’s existence.
What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?
Her signature vanilla body spray and loose tampons and condoms
What do they notice first in a person?
Their sex appeal.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? 6
Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?
Mia is a fighter.
Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?
Mia is the only child of a single mother.
What animal represents them best?
Bichon frisé- because of her fluffy hair and friendly nature (unless your name is Cookie!)
What is a smell that they dislike?
The smell of overflowing ashtrays. When she was a waitress this smell always used to make Mia dry-retch.
Have they broken any bones?
She broke a couple of ribs while out surfing with her fiancé Luke one day.
How would a stranger likely describe them?
Blonde, bubbly and chatty with legs for days.
Are they a night owl or a morning bird?
A night owl. Mia does NOT like getting out of bed early.
What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?
She hates the taste of aniseed and loves the taste of potatoes deep-fried in goose fat.
Do they have any hobbies?
Sex, video games, watching soap operas, going to the movies, socialising, fantasizing about her wedding to Raj.
Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?
Mia loves surprises and would be thrilled! She detests routine and monotony. The more surprises life can throw at her, the better!
Do they like to wear jewelry?
Mia’s pride and joy was her engagement ring, which was lost during an altercation with a creep called David. Even though she still mourns its loss, it did enable her to move on from Luke’s death. But no other piece of jewellery has ever been so important to her.
Do they have neat or messy handwriting?
Messy. Mia is self-conscious about her handwriting as well as her lack of literacy skills. She will go to any lengths to avoid her handwriting and poor spelling being seen by others.
What are two emotions they feel the most?
Excitement and desire.
Do they have a favorite fabric?
Not really, but Mia isn't into housework so any fabric she did prefer would be drip dry and non-iron.
What kind of accent do they have?
Mia was born in bred in Isla Paradiso, but it would be hard for anyone in Sim nation to discern a particular dialect or accent as coming from there.
I would like to tag @papermint-airplane @changingplumbob @windermeresimblr @streetlites and @wannabecatwriter @profoundlyburningsimscollection and @stargazer-sims. No pressure ever, feel free to ignore!
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Can I request fem reader catching bully Ezra fucking another girl?
So i honestly can’t picture Ezra actually cheating, cheating like i can def still see him doing shady quick business deals that involve sex though for sure since he’s a bit of a big cuck himselfXD
!!!MINORS DNI!!!
Status: Dating
CW: F!Reader, reader has a vagina, reader refereed to as she/her, scent kink, cumplay, cream pies, p in v, non con, cucking, bdsm, gag, restricted movement, cutting, blood, blood loss, oral on freader, pet names (slut,good little slut) asphyxiation, hospital setting,
You were hobbling back to your dorm from class, your legs still weak from last night. Now that you bunk with Ezra it’s rare he lets you go unscathed.
He likes seeing his cum dripping down your thighs whenever you leave. Just another mark that you’re his.
“Ahh~! Ezra!!”
“Smell her! Smell her fucking cunt! Shove them in your whore mouth!”
“Yes! Oka—mmf!”
“Taste her!”
*plap Slam! plap*
You hear grunting and muffled moaning gaining volume as you close in on your partially open door.
You see them first through the crack, Ezra shoving her face down into your pillow, his hand lost in her blonde curls.
His fiery eyes shoot up and find yours instantly and he keeps your gaze as he keeps pounding into her.
“Get in here.” He sounds angrier than usual.
You squeak and get in, slamming the door behind you.
There’s a man in Ezra’s bed his hand is on his cock.
“She should already be wet, go all out.”
You squeeze your slippery legs together. “No! Ezra!!”
You’re still calling his name after all this time?
You’re back against the wall, “Can I hurt her?” He asks hungrily, licking the top row of his teeth. His body boxing you in, you see how intensely he’s breathing.
“I said all out.” Ezra shrugs lazily fucking into the broad on your bed now.
“NO!!” Your scream is ear piercing and sharp even to you.
He drags her off of the bed and puts her between his legs on her knees. She seems happy to be thrown around. Ezra watches you intently now, using her throat as his cocksleeve.
“Now this’ll be better.”
“Please! You don’t have to do this! I-I-” You babble on and on until he stops you.
This guy doesn’t look like the type Ezra usually hangs with. He looks like a spoiled rich brat. Nice hair, nice skin and smile, he’s never had to do a day of work.
Your eyes widen, as you’re brought back with the sound of his belt snapping. “Ah!!” You squeal and cover your face, frightened.
He ties the thing around your wrists too tightly, and gets another leather belt from a nearby bag. The second he ties around your head the strap in your mouth and belted behind your head.
He throws you onto the floor, “Thing is, I want to do it,” The guy smiles sinisterly over you.
You cry and scream against the belt in your mouth and try to conceal your face with your bound hands.
He cuts off your clothes with a serrated knife, and then presses it to your thigh, before ripping it through your skin there.
You feel the hot liquid flood down your leg, it almost feels cold running over your skin! “!!!!” you’re screaming so hard against your bite.
“Woah,” he stands back mesmerized by the blood spilling. He excitedly, and nervously rushes to get his cock ready.
“You opened her vein, she’ll bleed out” He says almost bored.
“Exactly…” his pupils threaten to swallow you whole.
You scream so hard your vision is fuzzy and filling with thick black splotches.
He’s gonna let you die!!
“I said be rough. not fucking kill her the second you touch her! This wasn’t part of the deal, fucking psycho freak!”
The girl was torn from Ezra’s lap, and she drops your worn, soaked panties onto the bed, “Did you fuck this up for me?!” She points at the guy. She looks hazey and not all the way there.
You’re going cold so fast and your body shivers uncontrollably, until Ezra picks you up, and gets the bindings off of you and puts his jacket over you.
He throws you more carefully than usual into the back of his beamer, and races for the ER.
When you wake he’s on the chair watching you. He’s got a new bandaid on his cheek.
You don’t know why, but you reach for it and touch him there. As if he deserves any tenderness… But maybe giving him some, will make up for never getting any yourself somehow. Maybe you’ll feel it somehow.
But your hand drops weakly, he catches it and pulls you over to him.
“What are you-!” The machines beep all around you slightly faster for a minute until you’re sat in Ezra’s lap on the seat.
“We’ll break that hospital bed if we fuck in it.”
“Ezra…”
Your wetness seeps into his jeans beneath you.
Maybe it’s the residual dizziness and the drugs in you, but your body responds to him.
He grabs your ass through your scratchy gown and drags you harder over his bulge.
“You can take s’much can’t cha?” He grabs your thigh, almost rupturing the stitches. It doesn’t hurt that bad with the meds in you.
You nod your head. Yes. You take so much all for him. “huh?”
He pulls your face up by your chin to look him in the eyes, “What does my good slut want, hmmm~ How’s bought i treat you.”
You nod tentatively, eyebrows peaking into your forehead.
He grabs your arms gently and you still jump and tremble in his grasp. “Do you want my fingers, cock? mouth?” he asks while searching your fright filled eyes.
He picks you up and sets you back onto the bed, careful of all your cords and tubing.
His face comes to your legs and he spreads them, nuzzling himself between your thighs.
He pulls up your gown and pulls your panties down and off of you.
Before you know it or how to respond or act, he’s digging into you.
“Gods!” You breathe out in a high pitched tone.
“Fuck, slut,” His gruff voice rumbles into you.
His tongue runs wide up your slit before he comes up to suck on and play with your clit. He pulls away with a *pop* before going back at it, you catch a glimpse of his glistening pussy drunk face.
Your shaking hands grip his hair, and your legs tighten around him. His tongue dips into you before he adds a finger, and then another. His mouth swirls around your clit again as his finger curl and caress your spongey walls.
He pulls away again as your pressure slowly builds within. “This isn’t enough for my good little slut, is it?” He asks and you shake your head, no it’s not! “What do you want, my hand around your throat?”
You nod, he’s being so nice~
He can’t want to hurt you that badly, can he?
Oh, but he does.
His smile spreads wildly as he reaches up to your fragile neck, and squeezes. You see spots fast.
Immediately the pressure in your core builds like a fire with gasoline being pours onto it, his fingers curl and he pistons them into you. He brings his lips back to your clit and sucks and nips and tugs. He brings you to the brink of unconsciousness, and then on that ledge is when you topple over and cum all over his fingers, he laps you up and stuffs his coated fingers into his mouth.
#my oc#yandere#oc x reader#oc x you#yandere x reader#yandere x you#my fic#tw yandere#dead dove do not eat#bully oc x you#oc smut#bully oc#bully yandere#yandere bully x reader#yandere bully#bully x victim#oc bully#bully smut#fem reader#f!reader#x reader#x oc#x you
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It’s not that I miss you less
Now that time has passed since I’ve lost you
It’s like walking with a limp
I have merely learned to live with it’s existence
#I still feel your loss like the first day#it simply no longer surprises me#I wake up in the morning expecting no text from you#I am not surprised when I do not see one#I have learned to live without you#but time has not numbed the pain#I simply know to expect it#thoughts#words#i write poetry at 3am#poetry#free verse#healing poetry#poetic#sad poem#original post#original writing#original poem#female poets#break up poetry#heart break#sad poetry#break up poem#poems and quotes#free verse poem#short poem#original poetry#poemsbyme#poetscommunity#poetsandwriters
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thamks
you after i free you from the tetrisphere
#ask#anon#im not sure what the thanks is for without assuming it to be like ''thanks. for those tags.''#anyway youre welcome? youre free from the tetrisphere now. find and enjoy life. out from the egg made of tetronimoes youve hatched from.#or whatever.#im still recovering from that nap#its fucked. i nap on my bed sometimes if i havent had enough sleep earlier in the day. and instead of using the bed normally#my ass just sleeps at the end. watching my moavies (youtube streams)#like a dog#ended up having to wake myself up cause i had my legs rested over a nearby table cause the width of the bed is not very wide#and my body feels so good when i wake up. scrunched up and shit. i feel So normal#anyway tetrisphere is a game i got long ago that. i dont know from where.#i either got it from a yard sale. or ebay. but im leaning towards yard sale. since it was around the same time i got hey you pikachu#also did you know the mic quality for hey you pikachus microphone is actually pretty decent#anyway i dont remember a lot about tetrisphere beyond you picking a robot to play as. and you drop tetrominoes onto a fucking ball#i completely forgot you freed a thing from within#as for why this was the first thing i used to reply to the ask. anytime i get an ask im not sure how to respond to. i look through my phone#and. this tetrisphere image made me laugh seeing it back when i first downloaded it#i think i had more i wanted to say but im at a loss for words now that im looking at this image again#its so beautiful and hes so free#that is how baby birds leave the egg. but opposite. they do it from the inside. instead of needing tetrominoes to open the egg.#can you tell im still not fully recovered from my fuckim nap#anyway thanks for the ask anon. i think!
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I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:
Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.
The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.
The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.
The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.
Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.
The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.
Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".
He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.
This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.
Edit to add further developments:
Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.
Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.
The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.
The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.
The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.
TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).
This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".
This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")
X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.
Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.
The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.
One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.
Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.
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Girl back home
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader
Warnings: cursing (I think)
Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this
Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)
Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)
“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.
If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.
“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.
Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”
Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”
“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”
Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.
In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.
You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.
You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.
When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.
Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.
But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.
Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.
“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.
“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.
Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”
Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”
Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”
Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”
Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.
Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.
“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.
“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.
“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.
Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”
Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”
“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.
“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”
Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”
“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.
“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”
The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.
“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.
You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.
“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.
Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”
You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”
“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.
Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”
You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.
“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.
“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”
“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah?” Logan grins.
You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”
Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”
You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”
The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.
His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.
“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.
“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.
You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”
Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”
“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.
“This late?”
You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”
Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”
You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.
“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.
“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.
By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.
You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.
“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.
You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”
Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”
You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.
You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.
Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.
You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.
“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.
He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”
You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.
He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”
“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.
He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”
You just laugh joyously.
A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.
You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.
You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.
You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.
He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.
Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.
Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.
You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.
“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.
“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.
You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”
He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”
He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”
You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.
You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”
Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.
You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.
"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.
"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.
"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.
You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.
Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.
“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.
You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”
Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”
You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”
Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”
“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.
Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”
“Tell him that.”
You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.
Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”
“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.
Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”
“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”
Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”
Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.
Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.
As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.
You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.
The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.
He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.
“Thank you for being here. I love you.”
You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”
He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.
Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.
He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.
He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.
“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.
“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.
“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.
Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”
Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.
“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”
“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”
Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.
Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.
“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.
“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”
Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.
When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.
Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.
Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.
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Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau#logan sargeant x fem!reader#logan sargeant x you#logan sargent x reader#logan sargeant x reader
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✩ ˛˚ . WAKING UP WITH THEM feat. 𝓙𝓤𝓙𝓤𝓣𝓢𝓤 𝓚𝓐𝓘𝓢𝓔𝓝!
ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi + itadori yuuji
warnings! none, fluff ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hi it’s been so long + i just got a sudden urge to write with the new season + all! life has been super cray but hopefully i get to do some more jjk again ueueue! back to my roots <3
✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU
it was almost a mission getting up next to gojo, or more so having to actually get out of bed when you have your overgrown clingy boyfriend wrapped around you.
his breathing is soft, the rise and fall of his chest is steady and despite the way the light barely breaks into the room you can see the way his lashes still rest along his cheeks.
now’s your chance, you think to yourself as you ease gojo’s arm from where he’s got it draped over your waist — gently as to not jolt him awake as you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed. you gently swing your legs over the edge, but just as you go to push yourself up you hear the slow, drowsy drawl of a man who’s definitely not about to let you do that.
“oh, what’s this? i don’t think so, sweet thing.” your snowy haired boyfriend grunts as his arms take their previous place around your waist from behind, tighter this time before you’re pulled back into his chest with such an ease you almost squeak. you barely heard him move and the speed he always seems to despite the early hours still makes your head feel dizzy.
“you wouldn’t leave me cold would you? where’s your heart?” gojo teases but you note that he’s warm when he’s pushing himself into the crook of your neck, letting his lips graze along the skin there as he chuckles at the way you shudder at the touch. he knows you’re pouting, your little mission not so successful—but he still thinks it’s adorable the way you melt back into him regardless.. like you were secretly hoping for the loss.
“you were literally asleep a second ago.” your words are accompanied by a playful pinch at his cheek before his large palms graze under your shirt, squeezing at your waist as he pulls away to give you a tilted look. his sleepy smirk is in place as it stretches wide before he leans into to press a quick kiss against your lips, then another against your cheek that lingers.
“oh yeah? but i thought i was still in a dream, sweet girl.” crystalline eyes pull back to look over you, mapping out your features like gojo hasn’t already committed them to memory. but you think it’s unfair how handsome he seems to look in the mornings, especially when you’re trying to resist the way he makes you want to give in to his request to stay in bed a little longer.
“yeah yeah, just get up already.”
“nuh ugh, you’ve not even given me my good morning kiss yet. how will i survive the day, hm?”
✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU
you need to get up, geto knows when your alarm goes off for the third time even though it was the first that woke him. “i know you’re awake, pretty girl.” he hums against your temple, but you’re still pressed up into him and every attempt to shake you gently awake has you inching yourself closer to his chest rather than to the edge of the bed.
“come on.” his words are accompanied by the smooth trace of his hands along the curve of your spine and you think it’s a little contradictory, the way he’s making you melt even more into him despite the way it’s supposed to be waking you up instead.
“sugu, but i’m tired.” a kiss to your forehead and a squeeze of his hand at your hips and you hear geto chuckle as he pulls back to look at you — his dark hair still messily framing his features as he pushes himself up.
“yeah? you seemed to be sleeping well when you were snoring.” he teases even as one arm still wraps around you and pulls you into him anyway. chuckling, long and low when you grumble before nuzzling into the crook of his neck to press butterfly kisses along his skin.
“i don’t snore.” you reply before you find yourself lost in him, geto always smelled good, so good you wanted to wrap yourself in him like the blanket you wrap yourself in at night. you hear him hum at your words; like he’s not quite convinced before he’s reaching over you to tap at the alarm, again.
“but we really need to get up.” he sighs but somehow manages to keep you still pressed against him as he sits up, letting you curl up against his chest as the first cold press of morning air rolls over your shoulders while he stretches.
you look up at him with drowsy features but it seems to warm you from the inside out when you notice he’s already staring, a smirk in place before he’s pinching once at your cheek and kissing your lips when they jut out into a pout.
“hey, don’t gimme that look after all of those alarms, pretty girl.”
✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO
waking up with nanami was easy, or more so being woken up by him. he was always up early, waking you up with a sweet kiss against your cheek, followed by another against your temple. his coffee still lingers on his lips but you think it’s familiar, like it makes the first stretch of the day come a little easier when hes resting over you.
“morning, sweetheart.” his voice is a low drawl but he knows you’ll probably still be in bed by the time he leaves. but you know you’ll walk into the kitchen to sliced fruit on the table and your slippers will be waiting in their place over the edge — perfectly positioned for you to slide into because he knows the floor is a little colder in the morning.
“morning, kento.” your voice is cute, barely audible but nanami’s still close enough to hear it as he lets his palm push gently down the curve of your shoulder — squeezing at the skin affectionately. your eyes are barely open, but you can still feel the way he tucks the comforter over you, sighing softly before he pulls back.
“do you want me to bring in dinner?” he asks, you’re barely awake but he still waits for an answer. a little nod follows and he smiles to himself when you subconsciously roll onto his side of the bed, seeking out the small remainder of the warmth he’d left behind although you’d still rather he be next to you instead.
“then i won’t be late, i have dinner plans now after all.” nanami pulls back to take another sip of his coffee but you still seem to find the consciousness to reach out to grab at the cuff of his shirt. a drowsy blink up at him and he knows he can’t deny you when he’s leaning over you again, leaving you with another few kisses that find him having to smooth down his shirt and hair again afterwards.
✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
you think it’s charming, the way megumi is already looking at you as you wake, blinking blearily at your dark haired boyfriend as he gives you a content sort of look. you blink again, stretching slightly before you roll onto your side, edging yourself closer before you speak. “were you watching me sleep?”
your question is still drawled as you tease him, barely awake but you can still see the way it makes him jolt slightly — like he’s been caught in a daze as the tips of his ears sting with a blush. “no” but his reply is too quick, followed by a tsk while he’s suddenly looking everywhere but at you with a pout on his lips that only seems to lure you closer.
you giggle as you press yourself into megumi’s side, humming at the grumpy expression on his face because you still think it’s cute the way he lets you climb all over him. “what? i think it’s cute.” he softens at that, slightly as his eyes dart quickly to look at you before they’re gone again.
you let the silence settle for a few moments before you feel his arm reach to wrap gently around your waist, securing you against him before he clears his throat to finally say something. but his gaze remains on the ceiling. “i wasn’t staring..” he begins before he gives you another quick look, “.. you, you just made a sound, i was checking on you.”
you hum at megumi’s little excuse as your press your cheek into his shoulder, failing to hide the way your lips are starting to stretch into a grin that he notices before his brows furrow slightly. “hm? you looked happy about it.” you tease again and you feel his fingers squeeze at your waist slightly as he breathes out a long sigh and curls you closer.
“shutup.”
✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI
on the rare occasions itadori seemed to wake up before you, you were never far behind — mostly because he couldn’t seem to wait too long without you. so you always seemed to find yourself woken up by a few messy kisses, pressed quickly into your cheeks, then your neck, then your nose until you’re pushing him away playfully at the way they tickle your skin.
“yuuji! i’m awake..” you huff out as your overgrown boyfriend leans his weight over you, like a giant puppy licking his owner awake in the morning as he sends you a bright grin. you always thought it was cute how pretty he still seemed to be in the mornings, even when his hair is messy and it’s barely 8am— there’s still a soft sort of glow in his eyes when they meet yours.
“morning!” itadori replies, his voice is lower than normal but he still handles you softly despite how tightly he wants to wrap you in his arms. but he was warm, sort of like sunshine and you think you quite enjoy the moments when you get to wake up under the sun.
“do you wanna get breakfast?” you ask softly and you swear you feel your boyfriend squeeze you tighter at that. but your arms wrap around him and he doesn’t think anything is gonna be as good as the feeling of you against his chest right now.
“five more minutes, babe. i wanna cuddle a little longer.” itadori’s words are muffled when he speaks them into your skin, continuing where he left off on his onslaught of kisses as he peppers them across your features. across your cheeks, along your jawline and down your neck until he’s pressing you into your pillows and groaning when you scratch your fingers through his hair.
but you accept, even though in five more minutes you know it’ll be ten.
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#geto x reader#geto fluff#nanami x reader#nanami fluff#megumi x reader#megumi fluff#itadori x reader#itadori fluff#gojo satoru x reader
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{ "SKIN TIGHT.ᐟ" }
{ft. satoru g.} when you realize that you’re falling in love with your friends with benefits, you distance yourself. ghost him after each session. but this time, gojo won’t let you go so easily.
{warnings.} fwb!gojo x reader. fwb to lovers trope! fem!reader, orgasm denial, missionary, breeding kink (like if you sqint) unprotected sex. pet names used, (baby, girl) gojo is a lil delulu. extremely intimate. angsty throughout but ends happy. wc. 2k.
{shanti’s note!} heavily inspired by skin tight by ravyn lenae. listen to the playlist for this story here.
“are you.. are you just usin’ me, (y/n)? just think you can fuck me whenever you feel like? that’s just cruel, baby.”
you knew this was coming.
satoru was pretty much good at everything, sex included. it’s why you initiated this arrangement in the first place, being his friend and fucking him whenever you wanted to. the terms were simple: casual sex with no unwanted, lingering emotions. love is complicated, exhausting — after a handful of failed relationships, you wanted no parts of it and threw in the towel, officially out the game.
he’s not wrong, you do use him. fuck him and disappear by the next morning, unseen and unreachable until you decide to show up at his doorstep again, sometimes days — usually weeks later.
you know he’ll let you in, no matter how much time has passed. just cruel.
“you’re evil. you and this fuckin’—“ he sucks in a sharp breath, tilts his head back. gooey walls mold his dick, all ribbed and dangerously warm. is this why he lets you play him like this? “. . . tight ass pussy you’ve got.”
if it wasn’t for satoru holding your legs up and open, veined hands creased in the bend of your knees, you’re sure they would’ve gave out. he’d been relentless with his teasing this session and you were puffing, the shallow breaths left a slight tremble throughout your body. sweat beads rolled down your temple, cascade down the junction of your neck.
satoru denies you an orgasm for the umptheeth time and you start to think he’s the cruel one. you deserve it, though. this torture, his crafty method of punishment.
he’s had you like this for some time, the deep rut of his hips halted, everything is still. just satoru and his cerulean-speckled iries glowering down on you, goosebumps decorated your skin. you knew he was waiting for some sort of explanation to rationalize the mess you’d created but you weren’t sure where to start.
with your cheek smushed on your shoulder, you decide to fix your eyes on something, anything across the room to avoid his stare that was burning into the side of your head. “‘toru, i’m sorry.”
satoru scoffs, his trimmed fingernails indent your soft skin. “damn, now you’re lyin’ to me too? must really wanna hurt my feelings.”
“i’m not, i swear—“
“you disappear for three months and all you have to say is sorry?” he spat, his words had an uncharacteristic sharpness to them, hard and demeaning. it wasn’t hard to detect the underlying rage that rumbled within his entire being. “no explanation? just sorry? nah.. you gotta.. you gotta give me more than that, (y/n).”
taken aback, you bite down on your bottom lip, at a complete loss for words. there isn’t much you can say to pacify him, you doubt he’d care to hear it. what worked before certainly won’t work now.
the quiet is deafening and suspenseful.
and your silence angers him further, on levels you can’t fathom. you won’t weasel your way out of this, he concludes. you’ll give him an answer, even if it’s at the expense of his already bruised ego.
“hey.. look at me.” he sneers, and you feel the warmth of his skin on your chin, his thumb and pointer fingers curl as they angle your head forward and back onto his face. “just.. talk to me, please.”
satoru gojo, begging? oh yeah, you’ve really done a number on him.
you take your time as you admire him, basking in the sheer beauty of the man in front of you. obnoxious and arrogant as he was, satoru gojo is undeniably attractive, simply gorgeous — pink, kiss-bitten lips slightly parted and his cheeks a pretty shade of red from the exertion, you gather. his abs are chiseled and tense and if you peek lower, you’re met with neatly trimmed, white tufts of hair at the base of his dick.
“you…” you stop to clear your throat but it didn’t need clearing, only to counteract how embarrassingly weak your voice sounded. “..y-you wouldn’t understand, satoru— oh!”
he exhales deep through his nose and suddenly leans down, releasing his hold on your knees to brace his elbows on the satin-sheets. while he does this, his hips roll — slow as he feeds you all his thick inches until he bottoms out, his pelvis taut against your neglected clit.
you mewl out and your hands encircle his neck, scratching at the low hairs on his nape. he’s so close, your noses basically touch. his breath fans your face, cooling your rather hot cheeks. “then help me understand, baby. make it easy f’me, whatever it is.. i can handle it.”
you’re not worried about him not being able to handle it, in fact you’re not worrying about anything at all. how can you when he’s got you stuffed, stretched and full like this?
concentration is impossible as satoru sets a steady, languid pace — not too slow nor too fast, just enough to have your manicured, white toes curling. your mouth in the shape of a pretty ‘o’, your breathy whimpers resounding off the walls of satoru’s bedroom, the beautiful symphony ringing in his ears.
an addicting melody, you were like his own personal drug. insatiable and persistent, gojo was unsure if he’d ever get his fill of you, truly he didn’t care. as long as he had you here with him, where you belonged.
“c’mere,” he pants and leans in, connecting your lips in a swift motion. you melt into the kiss, jaw slack while your tongues meld and mix. it’s fervent like always but this sensation is new — raw, almost vulnerable. pouring his heart out to you in all his movements and you can feel all of it.
“‘toru, oh my g-god.” you grip his forearms, keening as his length drags along a spot that has stars twinkling behind your lids. “i was j-just— fuck!”
“just what baby?” he mocks, it wouldn’t be gojo if he didn’t find a way to tease you, even in the most intimate of moments. he litters kisses along your jawbone before latching onto the delicate skin on the column of your throat, grazing his teeth on the surface to ensure it’ll leave colorful marks, letting out a pretty whine of his own. “shit, squeezing me s’tight- gotta use your w-words f’me.”
well, that’s easier said than done. your body is trembling in a way that can only be caused by satoru, every time your mouth opens to form words only meek, whiney moans follow. your tips scratch the plane of his delts, surely leaving cat-like scratches in their wake. and your legs hang loosely off his slim waist as you cling to him for dear life.
“i was just s-scared, satoru.” your voice was low, it was nearly drowned out by the wet squelching of your pussy. the constant schlap schlap schalp of satoru’s pelvis meeting the fatty flesh of your thighs.
satoru’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes meet yours, his head slightly tilted in confusion. “scared of what? of me?
“no!” you shake your head profusely and reach a shaky hand up to cup his face. he leans into the touch, the heat of his cheek warming your palm. if there was one person you’d feel eternally safe and protected with, it’s him. “no.. never. it’s the w-way you make me, hmm, f-feel that i was scared of.”
“oh? and how do i make you feel?” he purrs prior to kissing you again, nibbling on your bottom lip. truth be told, he wasn’t sure what you were about to say. he prayed to the god above you couldn’t feel the rapid beating of his heart, notice the uneven rise and fall of his chest. so he plays it off, even with that slight tremor in his voice. “you love me or somethin’?”
it might be more than love. a deep attachment, a classic case of yearning and longing. gojo satoru was made for you. no amount of denying or running from the obvious would change that fact. you love him so badly it hurts, it consumes you — clouds your thoughts and steals the air from your lungs. no more fighting, you had no energy left to.
you’re surrendering yourself to satoru gojo and it was time to let him know.
“yeah,” you confirm with a giggle, all airy and breathless. your thumb strokes his cheek gingerly, tilting your chin up so your foreheads touch. “i love you, satoru.”
satoru doesn’t respond, in fact he was deadly silent. mouth agape, his eyes darting wildly as he examines your face, searching for signs of roguery but he found none. you were telling the truth, the love swelling in your eyes made it oh so apparent.
“again.”
you let out a surprised yelp when satoru presses his body down, the pressure of his weight dips into your chest, leaving you winded. his face is buried in the crook of your neck where the neediest whines roll off his tongue. with this new angle, he’s balls-deep and the rhythm his hips carry has your eyes rolling, holding his broad shoulders to ground yourself.
skin-tight, it’s like your bodies, your sounds are one.
“s-say you love me again.” he rasps, and it’s more pleading than demanding. like he needs reassurance.
“i love you s-so muchh— ohgod, don’t stop, don’t stop!” your words trail into high-pitched mewls and satoru sighs, a blissful sound of relief. your pussy clamps down on his dick greedily, sucking him in impossibly deeper as he massages your aching walls, un-calculated and sloppy.
this was the effect you had on him, you always left him a fucking mess. satoru would let you ruin him, every time, for as long as he lived. “don’t know how long i’ve b-been, hah, waitin’ to fuckin’ hear t-that.”
you’d tease him for the stutter in his words if you could think clearly but your mind is blank. you’re delightfully delirious as satoru pounds into you, giving you quite literally everything he’s got. simply insatiable, you still want more. settling a weak hand on his hip, you use the last of your strength to propel him forward, your juices aimlessly squelching between your bodies, dripping down your perineum.
“f-fuck girl, you-you’re drivin’ me crazy. n-not gonna last, baby. f-feel like y-you’re tryn’ to milk me.” satoru babbles, and you swear you can feel a warm trickle of drool on your collarbone. how cute, he’s just as brainless as you are.
his pace is frantic now and that familiar tingling is building your gut. your limps are limp against him, your whole body rocks in tandem with his as he works his hardest to bring the two of you to completion.
“satoru, m’gonna cum, s’closeee.” you whine, lashes fluttering as salty tears clustered on your lash line.
he only hums in response, snaking one of his hands between your bodies to find your clit, all your sticky slick had your mound drenched. he smirks whilst rubbing figure eights on the sensitive nub, your quivering folds dragging a deep groan from his chest.
“want m-me to fill you up, hmm? p-pump this pretty pussy with all my cum.. want it all, y-yeah?” he’s rambling is incessant and you nod dumbly. it’s in one ear and out the other, the pure euphoria coursing through your bones driving you insane and all you needed was release.
it was the pinch to your clit that did it, the final blow that had your back arching almost painfully as your climate rushes through your body in intervals, your hardened nipples brush against satoru’s pecs as you twitch uncontrollably, a chain of broken cries mixed with his name fall from your lips like water.
like clockwork, satoru’s orgasm follows directly after, he muffles his moans in your shoulder, damn near biting the skin as he pumps you full, as promised. it’s alarmingly warm, scorching as it invades and overflows within your womb, too much for it to handle, some of it spilling back out. satoru doesn’t pull out, plugging as much of his semen as he can to your insides.
the silence after is comfortable. the two of you in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and panting from the intensity of your shared orgasms. you’d make your way to the bathroom, eventually. for now, you bask in the blissful ambiance.
“(y/n)?” satoru’s voice breaks the silence, a whisper as his head lulls on the fat of your breast.
“hmm?”
“i love you too.”
@screampied @satorena @hoshigray made yall wait long enough LMAO.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#shanti's stories⋆˙⟡♡
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𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:
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“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”
“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”
“They’re at it again already, huh?”
“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”
College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!
But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.
Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected.
And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.
However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”
“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”
“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!”
Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.”
Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?”
“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”
“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”
“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.”
She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are.
You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!??
You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…
You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something.
It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!
“…hear me?…Y/n?”
You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”
She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”
Huh? “Where are you going?”
“To Haibara’s get-together?”
Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”
The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”
“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”
Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”
The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.”
Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”
“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway.
“Are you going?”
“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.”
Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”
You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”
But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”
“Small group of friends, huh?”
“Yes!”
“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“
“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present.
“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.”
Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.
That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”
Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”
All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?”
Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“
If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.
Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.
Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.
You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
I regret this so fucking much…
Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?
The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.
Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know.
So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.
But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?
Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.
The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.
You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.
Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”
Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”
A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig.
“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.
“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.”
The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”
Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”
You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”
“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”
Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“
“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”
You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.”
He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”
Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.
The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.
The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light.
You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more?
When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already.
You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…
And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—
“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“
“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”
“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”
This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”
“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”
You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.”
“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“
“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively.
“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.”
Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“
“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.”
You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”
“…Is that a bad thing?”
You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?
That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.
What the…Is he being genuine right now?
You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”
Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.
Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head.
Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??
“You look nice.”
You—……I’m sorry, what???
The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.
“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers.
He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”
When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.
You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”
Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.”
“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”
You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”
“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.
“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”
“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!”
You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”
His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.”
He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”
You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”
“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.”
“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”
“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”
Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face.
Oh fuck.
“...”
Don’t.
“….Y/n,”
Don’t say it.
“You never had your first ki—“
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door.
With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”
A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”
And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.
Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room.
Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step.
Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.
Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.
But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”
It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”
He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”
Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”
Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“
“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”
Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“
“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.”
It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.
He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”
You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”
“….I don’t hear a no.”
You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?
However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end.
“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”
What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.
Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.
In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust.
Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”
He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”
Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming.
But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”
He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash.
“Trust me, pretty.”
Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.
With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.
Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips.
He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”
“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.
“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”
Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.
“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“
And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.
It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.
“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”
Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.
Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”
And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.
You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded.
He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”
You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more.
It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.
“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed.
“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”
He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair.
His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more.
Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person.
You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?
And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you.
I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”
It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.”
Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“
“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step.
“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”
Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”
Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”
It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”
“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.
You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.
You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..
….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.
“Y/n!”
But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.
Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”
“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“
“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?”
You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”
“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”
Huh? “Hurry where??”
“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”
We!? “Together!?”
“Yeah?”
“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”
He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”
“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”
“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”
“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”
He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod.
“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”
“….Yeah.”
“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.
Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”
His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”
“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”
What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him.
“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”
“….No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.
His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”
“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.
“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you.
You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more.
Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather.
You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time.
The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork."
Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break.
That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.
Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.
The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”
“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”
“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action.
He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.
Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.
“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs.
Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”
“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…
The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”
“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent.
Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”
“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”
Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”
“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”
It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”
He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…”
He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.
You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out.
It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.
“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”
Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.
The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit.
“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”
He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.
And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him.
Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”
And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.
The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”
You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo.
Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.
Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.
Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again!
“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint.
“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”
“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.
But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”
“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”
He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…”
Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks.
The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”
And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.
The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck.
When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares.
“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”
His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”
That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”
A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”
“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”
You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.”
He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”
“You better.”
BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!
Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe”
You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”
“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”
The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”
Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”
Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”
“Okay, okay—“
“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”
“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”
You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”
“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”
The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”
I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk fics#anime smut
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