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staryuee · 1 month

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HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

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tunatoge · 5 months

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pairing: teen!s. gojo x fem!reader (use of "mom")

contents: gojo fucks up tsumiki's talent show (whoopsies!), mention of smoking and swear words, slight slut shaming

“my parents are really cool—uh, hi mom… hi, satoru,” tsumiki announces to the group of students and parents during her talent show. you glance at gojo who holds his phone up like a proud dad, recording the entire thing as he gives tsumiki a thumbs up. “and they helped me with this,” she adds as she wrings her hands. “this is for you guys… and megumi.”

you giggle as megumi shifts in his seat, his cheeks a soft pink. you stop laughing when an explicit song starts playing from the auditorium’s stereo system, tsumiki awkwardly dancing on stage to the music. you snap your head towards gojo, your mouth agape. gojo stands up as he whoops and hollers, still recording tsumiki.

“that’s my daughter!” he shouts as parents rush to cover their kids’ ears. “yeah, tsumiki! you’re doing great!”

you cover megumi’s ears as you step down on gojo’s right foot. “satoru,” you hiss angrily, watching from the corner of your eye as the school staff struggle to pause the music. “what the fuck is this?”

he looks at you, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit room. “what? it’s a good song!” he insists.

“yeah,” you say as the music pauses and tsumiki bows before skipping away. “for people our age while we’re out clubbing and drinking! that was so inappropriate for kids!”

satoru sits down next to you, ignoring the way the other parents glare at him and curse him out under their breath. “she told me she wanted to stick out so i told her i knew what to do!”

you frown and you uncup your hands from megumi’s ears. he glares at gojo with you, easily knowing gojo fucked up.

“i thought we agreed you’d stop helping the kids with their talent shows after you told megumi that using jujutsu for a magic show was a good idea,” you hiss, briefly turning around and apologizing to the angry mom behind you who kicks at your feet.

“god,” the mom hisses after seeing your face, “of course it’s some stupid teen parents.”

you frown at her words, keeping megumi from jumping up and attempting to fight the lady. you excuse yourself, squeezing past knees as they look at you and glare.

“did you hear what that little girl said?” someone whispers to their partner as you walk by. “she said mom and satoru, not dad. that’s gotta be one messed up family.” they snicker.

you grit your teeth as you move towards the exit, quietly squeezing out the door and pulling a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. you always knew you and gojo were going to face backlash for raising tsumiki and megumi while being kids yourselves, but you never thought you’d be facing it yourself after the kids had taken to calling you mom and refused to call satoru dad. you sigh and move away from the school building, taking a cigarette between your lips. you dig around for your zippo, frowning when you can’t find it.

“i thought we agreed you’d stop smoking,” gojo says behind you. you look up at him, tsumiki in his arms and megumi next to him.

you swallow as you place the cigarette back in its box. “not like i could’ve smoked it anyway,” you say as you take megumi’s hand in yours and walk towards the car. “i lost my lighter, the one suguru gave me.”

“i have it.” you look at gojo as he digs around in his pocket and pulls out your tarnished silver zippo lighter. he flips it around and around in his hands, index finger gently running over the engraving on its side. “hand me your cigarettes and i’ll give it back to you.”

you sigh as you unlock the car door and situate megumi into his car seat. “i don’t need it if i’m not smoking.” you buckle megumi in and gently ruffle his hair before shutting the door.

gojo sighs as he sets tsumiki in the car and shuts the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, rounding the car and taking your elbows into his overly large palms. he smooths them up your triceps, touch airy and light. “you only ever feel the need to smoke when something’s bothering you.”

you sigh as you lean into his touch. “i’m just tired of people assuming i’m some whore who spreads their legs for anyone. it really hurts when parents look at me with so much disgust when tsumiki or megumi call me mom.” you lean forward and press your forehead into gojo’s firm chest.

“y’know,” gojo starts as he rests his chin in your hair, “those parents probably would have never stepped up like you did. you gave up the rest of your childhood for theirs and those stupid adults will never know that.” he pulls away and carefully looks you in the eye. “they can assume as much as they want, pretty, because the four of us know the truth and the truth is much stronger.”

you let out a choked laugh as you press your head back into his chest. “yeah, you’re right. they’re just some stupid old people.”

gojo laughs as he fully wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth in the parking lot of tsumiki’s school.

megumi swings his door open. “can we go home now?” he calls. “tsumiki’s tired.”

you laugh as you pull away from gojo and wipe at your eyes. “yes, we can,” you respond, digging in your pockets and handing gojo your cigarettes. he smiles and hands you your zippo in return. “mom’s gotta have a long talk with dad once we get there.”

gojo grins at the way you laugh at megumi’s scrunched up face. he’s thoroughly glad that it was you who stepped up with him.

#vians.scribbs #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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slttygeto · 11 months

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WHAT WAS I MADE FOR?

⤷ THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY. | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴synopsis: your boyfriend was made to be the center of attention, to receive so much love--not to deal with your sadness like it was his.

જ⁀➴content warning: fem!reader, angst, reader is a little insecure, just v sad, satoru best boy.

જ⁀➴ word count: 0,8k.

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

my boyfriend is so cool

that was always your thought when you went out with him for dinner. he’d invite a bunch of his friends along with their partners, and you’d spend the rest of the night chatting and laughing. you noticed how suguru was always the center of attention, even if he didn’t want to be. his best friend was equally magnetic. like a moth to a flame, they would both shine so bright.

and you’re suguru’s girlfriend. his pretty girl whom he met in college and has been with ever since. three years down the road, and many more to come, as he liked to say. you liked to believe that you and suguru were meant to be together, a match made in heaven. despite your different personalities and approach in life, you always managed to find a way to make it work.

always.

tonight, dinner tasted a little weird on your tongue. you’re sure it’s just you because everyone else seems to be enjoying their food just fine. no one seems to notice the way you scrunch up your face after the first bite, slowly setting the fork down and flashing suguru a polite smile, to which he immediately asks

“are you okay?”

am I okay? you’re not sure if you are, but you nod anyway. you squeeze his shoulder and motion at a friend who was talking to him, asking him to focus on the conversation.

you hated feeling like this. you could feel your stomach hurt, and your heart sinks a little as you try your best to fight back the insecurities. why were they resurfacing at such a time?

you weren’t supposed to feel this way. you’ve talked about this before with suguru, and he reassured you many times that he was dating you because he loved you. even three years later, you still can’t find it in you to tell him that it seems like he deserves better.

not someone who cries when they look in the mirror, or deflate throughout the day for no absolute reason. suguru deserved someone who takes care of him, not a person who is constantly so sad.

you excuse yourself from the table you’re sitting at, muttering to your boyfriend some lame excuse about how you need to fix your makeup. truth be told, if you had stayed at that table any longer, you would’ve thrown up the food and made a mess.

you walk inside the bathroom and as dramatic as it may seem, you lean against the door and let out a sob. it’s quiet, you don’t want anyone to hear you. but then it gets louder and louder until you turn on the faucet to try to drown out the sound of your cries.

this is so stupid.

you’re trying to wipe your makeup, even if it seems a little impossible to fix it right now (but you somehow manage). you’ve been in the bathroom for about 7 minutes now, and you know that if you stay there any longer, suguru would come looking for you.

you step out of the bathroom when you’re sure you look presentable and bump into a strong chest. your heart stills.

please don’t let it be—

“are you okay?” thank god, it was satoru.

you’ve known him ever since you met your boyfriend, and he’s been one of the most reliable friends ever. he was nice, kind, a little cocky but given his looks and fortune, he had a lot to brag about.

“oh, yeah. my stomach was a little upset, come on let’s go—“ you’re avoiding his eyes, but satoru can tell from your swollen lips that something else happened.

“you were crying, weren’t you?” his eyebrows are pinched, and you fight back tears when you look up at him and see the concerned look on his face.

“please, don’t tell suguru.” your voice cracks when you say his name, and satoru’s face morphs into one of confusion.

“but–“

“satoru, please. it’s not what he’s made for.”

it’s not what he’s made for.

satoru’s lips part in shock, but he can feel his heart clenching a little at your words. he doesn’t know what to tell you, his mind is blank as he stares down at you with icy blue eyes.

“okay then, let’s go back,” he doesn’t press it, slowly leads the way back to your table and you’re immediately overflown with questions from suguru.

“are you okay? is it your stomach? we can get you meds–“

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure him with a warm hand on top of his, but the look on his face tells you that he doesn’t believe you. not one bit.

but suguru doesn’t have to know that you’re not okay. after all, he does deserve better and you’re getting in the way of that.

⤷ the song absolutely destroyed me, so i had to write something.

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #angst #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #jjk getou #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen geto

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

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My Mom Thinks You're Hot

pairing: beefy!bucky x singlemom!reader

summary: your son tries to set you up with an avenger in a grocery store

a/n: short drabble bc why not

masterlist

_______________________________________

Getting groceries might not be fun for most families but for you and your 6 year old son it's almost as fun as going to the park.

The store that you visit has small cart for kids which your son loves to push, making him feel like a big boy. It's absolutely adorable and you take a picture of him every time. You don't know how you got lucky that your son loves grocery shopping as most kids find it either boring or too stimulating which is completely normal.

"Mommy look it's Avengers cereal!"

As any other kid his age, he's obsessed with The Avengers.

"Yes it is and it's very cool but we already have cereal at home." his face falls and puts the cereal box back.

"Can we get it next time?"

"Of course honey." you chuckle when you see him do a little victory dance.

You were slowly but surely making your way through the grocery list, slowly because your son decided to stop in front every single Avengers food.

Now for your favourite.

Ice Cream.

You turn your head quickly when you hear your son squeal.

"MOMMY THE AVENGERS! CAPTAIN AMERICA! AND BUCKY!" He whisper yells

you look over to where he's pointing and it's true there stand Sam Willson and James Buchanan Barnes.

"Can we please say hi." he holds your hand and gives you his best puppy eyes. You give in since it's not every day you get to meet heroes.

"Hi! You're really cool!"

Two men look down at the 6 year old boy and smile.

"Hey champ,what's your name?" Captain America asks and crouches down to his eye level.

"That's such a cool name!"

"Thank you my mom chose it!" you immediately blush when both men look at you.

"Hi. We just wanted to say hi and uh thank you for saving the world and all that." you avoid looking at James Bucky Barnes because you might have a huge crush on him. Ever since you were a teen and studied for history you thought he was very handsome.

"All part of the job ma'am." Sam salutes you and you smile a little, he's the perfect Captain America.

"I have so many questions!"

"Honey, they are very busy we can't keep them all day. How about just one question for each of them? That's of course if you're okay with that." You look at two heroes,who reply with a nod

"Alright you heard your mom, what do you have."

He thinks so hard and finally asks.

"What's the name of your bird!?" Bucky bursts out laughing, that's not what he thought the boy would ask Sam. Your heart might have done a flip at the sound,you try to hide your face by looking at the floor.

"His name is Redwing."

"Well that's pretty boring why doesn't he have a cool name." At this the three of you laugh.

Sam looks mildly offended.

"What do you have for me?" Bucky asks and whatever he thought the boy would ask it certainly was not this.

"Mr Bucky sir - Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or partner? My mom thinks you're hot."

You immediately pull your son into you and cover his mouth. Bucky blushes deeply and so do you.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. We have to go right now." You're so embarrassed that you leave your full cart and go straight for the exit pulling your son by the arm.

"But he didn't answer the question." your son whines.

"We don't need to know that. That's a personal question you don't ask people!"

"Uh I don't mind answering that question." Buckys voice says and you stop in your tracks, you turn around but still avoid the eye contact.

"Really you don't have to!"

"I want to. And I'd like to ask a personal question too if that's okay with you of course?"

Your knees almost give out when you manage to make eye contact.

"No, I do not have a significant other. And I don't know how this works at this day and age, but I'd like to ask for your number,doll."

_____________________________________

some years later

"Thank you for coming guest's that I know and don't know. My mom is getting married to my dad! You should all be thanking me because I made that happen!"

You look at your now husband and smile.

Maybe it's not the way you thought you'd meet the love of your life but sure is a story your guests and son find very entertaining.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky masterlist #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky fluff #bucky fic

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dolldefiler · 29 days

Text

Masterlist

Other

10K announcement + hand pics

I MELT AT NECK BITES

I bow down to polaroid girls

New hobbies

Face reveal #1

Face reveal #2

Guiding others to a treasure I don't possess

Me on most days

I'm part of the cool kids

5k announcement

Girls with chokers are so hot

Pretty girls blow my mind

100 announcement

Somnophilia/ Intox (inc. rape variants)

Drugging a girl over time

She's a people pleaser

Netflix in bed or a violent, drunken rape?

You're so beautiful, I need to fuck you even when you're tired

Filling the void in your heart and date raping you

Incesty, icky somno fucking (reallly icky)

Waiting for you to fall asleep

Fucking my sleepy sister (incest obvs)

Your brother drugs and fucks you (incest)

Drink as much as you want (incest again lol)

An older man using you while you sleep

Daddy's going to slip a sedative in your drinks one day (incest)

I'm sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night

Incest/ Incesty/ 'Daddy stuff'

Marrying my daughter

You can call me dad

Manipulating my older sister into bending over

Fucking my little sister while our parents sleep

Seducing my grown up rape baby (mentions of rape)

Reclaiming my daughter on her wedding night (cheating technically)

My sister brings me fresh pussy every week

Daddy's going to knock you up

Teaching my sister to fuck and letting her drink my piss

Teaching you to grind on a plushie I've gifted you

Your parents disciplining you

Daddy cheering you up after you've been cheated on

You've become so good at sucking my cock

Where do you feel your daddy issues?

Daddy's going to give himself grandkids

My dumb little whore's fucked up her college grades (misogyny)

Daddy wakes you up and fucks your lewd body

You can take Daddy's cock in your ass

Good parents will always fuck their daughters

Can't fit these into existing categories exactly

Reading my posts in school

Stalking my blog with a hand pressed against your pussy

You want to be your boyfriend's sextoy?

Keep track of the orgasms while I overstimulate you

I love the duality of a woman (wholesome praise/ degradation mix)

Making a girl lewder by covering her face first (misogyny/ dumbification)

Stretching out your asshole to my gross words (degrading)

I tracked you down to a club (manipulative/ possessive)

Having you clean up your mess while we study (kind of degrading)

I'll brutally fuck you the way you deserve

Claiming you in front of my friends (exhibitionism/ possessive)

The only god you worship is me (religion)

Someone's on the other side of the door (exhibitionism)

Grooming a (legal) teen (icky icky language)

The right sort of maths in your head

Happy birthday! (degrading language)

Old people fucking (really wouldn't recommend reading this)

A foray into the incel mindset

A virgin needs her holes used

You're not allowed gangbangs (possessive/ obsessive)

The first step in turning my partner freeuse

My harem of women competing for my attention

Reclaiming you (possessive/ obsessive)

Trad wife (misogynistic)

The perfect mutually toxic relationship (rapey)

How I'd make my sub earn her collar

Two women restraining you

Don't hide that gross porn you're watching from Daddy

Gaslighting fun #1

Gaslighting fun #2

Mind fucks are amazing

Teaching maths

Manipulating you with soft, sweet words

#masterlist

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certifiedfreec · 3 months

Text

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

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mariahcarreyyy · 3 months

Note

congrats on 2k!!! you deserve it and so so much more <3

can i request being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners with max ofc thank u very much -cait/@leclerced

# prompt no.10, being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

It was embarrassing.

Watching two grown men argue over who would drive you home from the lively, neon-lit bar led to a bashful flush, warming your body amidst the crisp darkness of the night.

Only minutes prior, Max had taken one look at you and decided home was where you should be. You didn't make any protests because he's right; you wonder if you looked like a book to Max—pages crinkled, broken spines, and easily read words in his favorite font.

"I can take my fucking girlfriend home, Max," your boyfriend, Scotty, seethes through gritted teeth, an ugly vein bursting on his forehead.

Scotty evidently did not like the idea of Max driving you home for a reason you had no idea of. You and Max had been friends for years, so if even an ounce of your yearning and want was reciprocated, he would've done something by now.

That thought did little to dwindle the stubborn 'what if's from gnawing at your soul, the twinge in your heart whenever you see Max with anyone but yourself.

And also the slight guilt at thinking of another man when you have a perfectly fine one waiting at home for you each night but. Whatever.

"I swear to fucking God if you get into that car with her--"

Eyes widening, you place a calming hand on Max's shoulder and ignore the daggers your boyfriend is glaring at your touch. "Okay, how 'bout we all relax, yeah?"

Max cranes his neck to look at you, his harsh facade melting when he catches sight of the worry etched on your face. Once his heaving turned into steady breathing, your face ducking shyly to look away from his gaze, your boyfriend cleared his throat loudly.

You hastily drop your hand like the Dutch had burned you, and Max lets out a disapproving noise at the loss of your contact. Yeah, Scotty did not look impressed. The murderous glint in his eyes did nothing to quell the uncomfortable atmosphere, his jaw flexing like he's capable of murder, of tearing Max's limbs off and letting the blood spill on the pavement.

"Scotty...to be fair, you did drink, and I don't really feel like dying tonight."

A hand creeps around Max's waist, your fingertips pinching the flesh after you hear him snort. A barely concealed yelp from the driver has Scotty scrunching his nose up in distaste, nostrils flared, and betrayal painted across his face.

You should probably side with your boyfriend, but. But the cool breeze makes the tiny hairs on your arms stand up, teeth chattering; you wrap the thin, barely-there jacket Max gave you at the beginning of the night and roll your eyes, walking to Max's car.

Fondly, Max observes the impatient tapping of your foot and flush on your face—from the cold, he tells himself, not for the same reasons as himself. He raises his brows tauntingly at Scotty before advancing towards your shaky frame.

"Fuckin' bitch," Scotty mutters into the air, lips pursed into a scowl and vodka overriding his senses.

Your ears don't quite grasp the words, but Max's do. So, when the world champion's fist paves the way for the colorful hues of a bruise to bloom on the bridge of your boyfriend's nose, you can't help but choke on a gasp.

authors note. anddddd scotty makes a comeback!!!! tbf in the og fic he was actually portrayed as a good bf. max & reader r js bad ppl. now i dont have to feel bd tho cus he's terrible in this🥰

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bitch-for-bo · 7 months

Text

The Better Brother (artist! Matsukawa x chubby fem reader) 18+

miss me? ;)

NSFW; MINORS GTF OUTTA HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!

TW: you're a cheater BUT you only cheat on a cheater asshole AND we support women's wrongs :))))

summary: Your fiancé leaves you across the ocean to sort out this whole 'wedding' thing all by yourself. Well.... lets just say that YOU get sorted out instead ;).

(((((((((loosely based on the movie Moonstruck (heavily recommend!!!!))))))))))

“Married?....... You want to get married?......to me?”

You wondered what you looked like at the moment, you wondered if your eyes were bugging out of your head or if your jaw looked completely locked in its unhinged position.

It definitely felt like they were.

It felt like your whole world had just come crashing down around you. All because of those 4 little words.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me for the last 5 years, I want to take care of each other for the rest of our lives.”

…..this wasn’t a part of your plan.

You didn’t quite know what your life plan was…. But it definitely wasn’t this.

“Why now?” you whisper, noticing that for every second you didn’t answer your boyfriend with an ecstatic yes, another restaurant patron's eyes locked onto you. You could feel your face growing hot with embarrassment and yet you still couldn’t blindly accept this proposal, not without knowing why.

“Why not now?” he asked, taking your hands into his. You could see the sweat starting to form on his hairline, the anxiety of public rejection becoming apparent in his tone as you worked to avoid his gaze.

Why not now?

Does he not hear himself? Why not now?

“I just-” you stuttered out, taking your hands back into your own laps, wiping the moisture off your palms against your thighs.

“-Just hear me out!” He cut you off, perhaps a bit too loudly as well, seeing as the crowd of nosy spectators seemed to be inconspicuously growing by the second. He looked frazzled, in fact, this might have been the most affected that you’d ever seen him. Usually, he was the cool-headed one, the blasé, jaded businessman. But now he sat, his voice raising with each word, face red with humiliation. He looked panicked, far too panicked for the situation.

“My mother…” He started, clearing his throat, trying to collect himself before he could make a fool of himself in public.

Ahh… his mother

you thought….. That was obviously why he was so panicked. That was why he was asking you this all of the sudden.

His mother was pressuring him.

Well, the joke is on him, you’re not gonna give in just because of the wishes of his mother.

“....My mother is dying.”

If your eyes weren’t bulging out of your head before, they definitely were now.

“w-What- when?..... Oh god….” you gasped, the guilt automatically washing over you as you watched your partner's face melt into worry, his brows knitting together as you brought your hands back onto the table to envelope his.

“They called me this morning…. They asked me if I could fly back home to….. ya know?”

“Of course..” you nodded, “you need to be with her right now…. Have you booked your flight yet? Should I try to book it now?”

Now listen…. It was a serious situation. And a horrible one at that, and you were 100% devoted to getting your partner home to his dying mother. But you couldn’t deny that you were also trying to steer the conversation back away from marriage.

But he wasn’t going to let you forget.

“Darling please….” he sighed, squeezing your hands in his, “my mother, she once told me that all she wants in this world… all she wants… is to see me happy… to see me married. And I want you to marry me.”

“God….” you sighed “I just….. You’re sure you want me?...”

He nods, holding your gaze.

It felt like his eyes were melting into your face. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there were still a good handful of people burning holes into your back. They were all expecting an answer.

Not only that, they were expecting a particular answer. An answer you weren’t sure that you were ready to give.

But for god's sake, the man’s mother was dying, and he pretty much made it sound like her dying wish was for her son to marry. If you said no now you’d be a monster.

Against your better judgment, you glanced around the restaurant, your eyes meeting the eager gazes of not only fellow patrons but staff as well. God, was that a tray of champagne waiting??

After scanning the room, your eyes finally made it back to the man who just asked you to marry him.

“Yes.” you whispered, offering him a small, unsure smile.

A smile that he returned tenfold, announcing to the restaurant, “she said yes!” prompting applause and congratulatory champagne.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, kissing your hands as you sat and watched him with that same small smile on your face.

“Now of course, I’ll have to fly out to my mother, but we should get married as soon as possible.” He said, dropping your hands to take a long drink of champagne. “I trust you want to organize the wedding?”

So much was happening, staff was swarming around you, pouring drinks and grabbing your hand to inspect the ring, and the restaurant chatter had resumed, and somehow along the way a violinist had been called in to serenade you as well.

You felt like your brain was being torn into 5 different pieces, all equally painful and all equally taxing.

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’d moved on in the conversation, rambling about flight times, how long he’d be staying, and who was going to fill in for him at work.

You were definitely overstimulated by the complete chaos surrounding you, but you told yourself it would be okay, that you could just zone out until he eventually tired and decided to drag the both of you home for the night.

Were you ready to get married? Hell no! But what were you supposed to do?

God, what would your parents say about this? Marrying a man nearly 20 years your senior. Did you love him? Of course!

….well…..maybe…… you definitely felt a strong connection with him……. so then what was this dread?

It was just anxiety. It had to be. After all, you had never planned to get married in the first place. You’d seen one too many marriages fail, one too many couples grow to hate each other and you’d sworn it off.

It wasn’t that you hated marriage in particular, you’d seen plenty of happily married people, you suppose it was just the fact that in your mind, it was impossible for you to be one of those happily married people.

You’d never been good at relationships. In fact, your current relationship had been eerily long. Usually, something would’ve happened by now. You would’ve walked in on him cheating, or you would’ve woken up to all of his stuff gone. But that hadn’t happened yet.

So maybe it was love, you told yourself. Maybe he was the love of your life and you were ready to get married.

After all, 5 years is a crazy long time, right?

Far too long to stay with a man you didn’t love……right?

What had you gotten yourself into?

Within the week, your now fiance had booked a flight out to his home city, leaving you behind with a long wedding to-do list.

On the positive side, after your initial dread spiral, you were feeling much better. You reminded yourself that everything happened for a reason and that there was no reason that your marriage couldn’t be any less fulfilling than the last five years had been.

You reminded yourself that your partner had stuck with you for five years, that kind of stuff doesn’t just happen to people who aren’t ready for marriage.

Anyways, you felt much better….. Happy even.

Your parents definitely could’ve taken the news of you marrying an older man…… better….. But at the end of the day, they admitted that as long as you were happy… they were too.

In all honesty, you think that they were mostly just relieved that you found someone to marry you.

Your family would never say it out loud, but you often thought that none of them believed you would ever find someone to be with. Deep down you felt like your parents always betted on your siblings for things like inlaws and grandchildren.

And you couldn’t blame them necessarily. You weren’t the conventional definition of beauty (a fact that all of your exes had brought to your attention sooner or later) and you definitely didn’t have low standards.

This meant that you forever lived in a limbo of never being “good enough” or “pretty enough” but never being willing to settle. So where did that leave you?

Alone.

Alone until you found your fiance.

To be honest, it was rough at first. He was this bigshot investor that was only slightly younger than your father and for some reason, he’d taken an interest in you, his (used to be) intern.

At first, you ignored the attention, young and uncomfortable with the idea that an older man could find you desirable. In your field, you were used to all of the finance bros, who wanted you in the bedroom but never in public.

But slowly, as he managed to worm his way into your daily schedule, you found yourself warming up to him. He’d walk past your desk each day, sometimes leaving you a coffee with a little winking face drawn on the side, sometimes he would smooze as you took the elevator with him, but most of the time it was him just making small comments along the lines of “you take care of me so well,” or “I’m lucky to have you looking out for me” which slowly transitioned into “i love the way you take care of me” and “am I lucky enough to take you to dinner”

Before you knew it, five years had passed. And while you’d technically never defined your relationship in words, or moved in with each other, or even met each other's families, you still thought of yourselves as dating…. well……engaged now.

You looked down at the to-do list that sat on the cafe table. Most of it was fairly straightforward, arrange the flowers, get the caterer, cake-tasting, wine-tasting, the list went on.

The one bullet point on the list that definitely wasn’t straightforward was the last one.

Invite Matsukawa

Apparently, your beloved fiance had an estranged brother. A younger brother whom he hadn’t spoken to for the last 10 years.

An estranged brother that you were in charge of tracking down and inviting to your wedding.

What could possibly go wrong?

He was a fucking mortician.

That's what could go wrong.

Your fiance had given you a little bit of background on his brother, and from the sounds of it, he seemed to be a fairly normal person. But come on…. How many normal people were morticians?

But nevertheless, you had told your fiance that you would do it. You would do it so that he could reunite with his brother and restore their relationship. Would it be a little weird for you? Yes. But it seemed that recently you’d been kicked out of your comfort zone, and apparently weren’t allowed back in.

So you’d looked up the address to the funeral home Matsukawa worked at, and decided that your goal for the day was to somehow convince him to come to his brother’s wedding.

Now all you had to do was work up the nerve to go in and actually talk to him.

You glanced out of the cafe’s window at the funeral home.

It’s not like it was overwhelmingly off-putting. It looked crisp and clean, a great place to bring your recently lost loved one……. But that didn’t mean it didn’t still give you the heebie-jeebies.

You looked back down at your coffee. There was probably only a sip or two left, which meant that you could no longer put this off.

Hesitantly, you left the coffee shop, holding your almost empty coffee cup as a shield of sorts as you approached the front doors of the funeral home.

You opened the doors.

It was quiet.

As to be expected.

You walked up to the empty reception desk, inspecting it for some kind of bell or button to alert someone of your arrival, but much to your dismay there was no such thing.

You looked around you, there wasn’t much to see in the lobby area, an expensive-looking rug, a nice velvet-covered loveseat, and a couple of potted plants…. Other than that there really wasn’t-

“-Fucking christ!” you gasped, jumping at the sight of a man's disembodied head peering through an open cut out in the wall.

You clutched your chest, trying to recover as he simply watched you, not even bothering to move. All the man did was grin at you, having the audacity to chuckle at your display of fright.

“Shit…” you breathed, turning your back to the man while trying to regain the quickly diminishing confidence that you had, you know, the confidence that was barely there to begin with.

A couple of deep breaths later, you decided that you felt stable enough to face the mystery man again. Now that the initial surprise/fear had passed, only dread and a smidge of anger remained.

Like, who the fuck would do that?? For all they know, you were a prospecting customer who’d just lost a loved one and you were greeted with the harrowing sight of a man’s head in a window.

You turned around, not sure if you should demand an apology, or issue one, when you were greeted with the sight of perhaps the prettiest man you’d ever seen.

Yes, he was the same weird man that had literally just pretended to be a severed head, but hey… first impressions were rough.

You opened your mouth to speak, still unsure of what to say, but thankfully, he spoke first.

“Sorry about that, it’s never gone over well and yet I keep trying.”

Wow his voice was deep, but not deep like ‘trying to be deep’ or even like ‘just woke up deep’ it was just… deep.

It was nice.

You were engaged.

Why was that so hard to remember?

You let out a small laugh before clearing your throat.

“Well, it was… interesting, I’ll give you that.”

He gave you another lopsided grin, but said nothing, forcing you to try and remember why you walked into the building in the first place.

Fiance’s brother. Right.

“Anyways, I’m here today because I’m looking for Maksukawa, is he working today?”

“Is something wrong” he asked, a much more acceptable mask of professionalism slipping over his features. You shifted from heel to heel, wondering if you should really tell this man about your fiance’s private family life.

“Nope, just here to talk with him.” you settled on that. Surely you wouldn't be asked for more.

“How do you know him?”

Of fucking course you’d be asked for more. Because having things go your way is just too much to ask.

“Oh, I’m just his brother’s fiance.” you said, trying to keep your voice light and unworried.

But as soon as you said it, the man’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw (which was gorgeously sharp) became set.

And while that reaction was a little weird, and definitely raised a little suspicion, you decided to ignore it and press forward.

“You see, I’m here to invite him to the wedding on behalf of my fiance.” You took a step closer to the desk that the man had retreated behind as you said it, trying your best to keep your shoulders squared and the pep in your step.

“He’s not interested.” the man, who had been nothing if not good-natured up till now, turned away, affirming your suspicions.

“You’re Matsukawa aren’t you?”

He ignored you and instead turned to head back through a set of swinging doors behind him, leaving you slack jawed and speechless.

Your partner had warned you of his brother’s standoffishness, but when you’d asked about why they hadn’t talked in 10 years, you received no clear answer. But judging by the way Matsukawa just left you in the dust, something big must’ve happened.

Nevertheless, you weren’t one to step down from a fight, no matter how scared or uncomfortable you were, so you followed him through the back doors into a little room with lockers lining the wall.

“I’m right, right? You’re Matsukawa?”

His back was facing you as he closed the door to his locker, his shoulders were definitely tensed but not nearly as much as one would expect considering the fact you were definitely not allowed back here, a rule which you rudely defied.

“My friends call me Issei.”

“Okay Issei, I’m here to-”

He turned towards you, his eyes flicking over your body once, before cutting you off.

“I said my friends, not some kid who's marrying my bastard brother.”

Once again, your jaw dropped. What the fuck was it about these brothers making you at a complete loss for words?

“Excuse me?”

Seriously, did their mother not raise them properly?

Their mother. That’s why you were there. Their mother is dying and her dying wish was for her son to be married.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing before you lost your nerve.

“Listen, I’m just here to invite you to the wedding. I’m not sure what went down between you and your brother, but I do know that he wants you at our wedding. Anyways, he’s family and family forgives each other, so please just take this.”

You held out the RSVP invitation to Issei, you set your jaw firmly and squared yourself in front of him, showing him that you wouldn’t tuck your tail and run.

He looked you up and down again. You tried not to focus on how his gaze made your stomach flip and your ears burn.

“How old are you?” He asked, his eyes landing on the invitation pinched between your prettily manicured fingers.

“Does it matter?”

Issei’s eyes traveled up your wrist to your arm, then shoulder, then neck, before finally landing on your face. He grinned at the look on your face, because while it was clear you were trying to keep a fire in your eyes, you were just about as intimidating as a puppy.

“It does.”

“Can I ask why?”

Issei took a step forward, narrowing the distance between the two of you until there was only a couple of inches.

“Because I know how old my brother is, and I wanna know why a girl who was in diapers when he was joining a frat is standing in front of me, saying she’s his fiance.”

Your eyes, which had been locked on his, standing your ground, flicked to the ground.

“So what is it, the money? The house? Did he accidentally knock you up? Let me guess, he’s your boss and you just wanted to stay his favorite, you didn’t even mean to get that drunk at the company party. Is that it? Or did you-”

Before you knew what was happening, you’d already reached your hand between the two of you and slapped Issei across the face.

For the first time since you’d met him, that stupid grin was gone, and in its place a look of surprise. You spoke before he could.

“Listen here,” you said in a low tone, trying to keep your voice from shaking due to the adrenaline flooding through your body,

“You don’t know me. You’ve never met me, never talked to me, and you sure as hell have never gotten close enough for me to disclose jack shit to you, much less how I met and got involved with your brother. I get that you guys don’t like each other, but that is no fucking reason to get pissy with me. In fact, how dare you talk about me like that? It doesn’t matter if your brother wronged you a thousand times over, you have no right to talk to me in that disgusting manner.”

You stopped to take a breath, closing your eyes so that you wouldn’t see Issei and chicken out of your speech.

“Now. I’m leaving, and I’m leaving you with the invitation to this stupid fucking wedding. You can come or not, I don’t care. Goodbye.”

Before he could respond you turned on your heel and fled back through the set of double doors, back into the safety of the main lobby. Once you were on the street again, you let yourself slow down, releasing the breath you’d been subconsciously holding.

You couldn’t believe that you’d done that, it was almost like you’d blacked out. You really couldn't even remember what you’d said. Oh god, hopefully you didn’t say anything too rash.

Even if Issei deserved it, he was your partner’s brother…..

….maybe you were too harsh.

You scolded yourself as you walked down the street, trying as best as you could not to look like a crazy person, muttering to yourself as you made your way back to your apartment.

The guilt and worry of what you’d said and how you’d behaved was eating at you. Did Issei deserve to be slapped? Yes! 100 fucking percent he deserved it.

But still….

If he hated his brother before you’d done that, he most definitely hated him even more now.

Maybe, you thought as you laid down to sleep, you could try and go by the funeral home tomorrow to smooth things over.

Maybe you could use the stress of the wedding as an excuse to why you’d slapped him, yeah…that was a good idea.

…or at least the best idea you had.

And while you tossed and turned with guilt over slapping your fiance's younger, very good-looking brother, Issei was in a similar boat.

Well… kind of.

He didn’t necessarily feel guilty over how he treated you. He was just being honest, there was no way in hell he’d attend his lousy brother’s wedding, that bastard could apologize a thousand times over for what he’d done and Issei still wouldn’t forgive him.

No, what he did feel guilty about though is the fact that he pretty much blew any chance he had of seeing you again.

If Issei was a better person he’d feel guilty about his feelings for you, fortunately he never claimed to be one.

He’d given up on sleeping hours ago, the only thing that closing his eyes got him was visions of you. The look on your face when you scolded him, the sting that your palm had left against his jaw.

And christ your body….

If Issei had believed in God, you were definitely her.

He could drown in you if you’d only let him.

So without any other way to soothe himself or fall asleep, he drank. A little too much if he’s being honest. So much that he didn’t even care when his neighbors slammed on his walls to tell him to turn his records down.

He preferred to sulk this way. That was what he was doing, sulking over a beautiful woman that he’d never see again, over a woman who was going to marry his brother, his enemy.

And as the night went on, the bottle of booze in his hand emptied further, until he nearly saw double as he worked on anything to distract himself from thoughts of you.

Perhaps when he said you were God he meant the opposite, God could never plague him like you were. You were a devil, a devil committed to his devil brother…. The thought made him feel a little better. Not much of course.

He eventually called into work, leaving some half-ass excuse on their answering machine as to why he wouldn’t be coming in that day, before dragging himself to bed. He was drunk enough to sleep, but not drunk enough to escape dreams of you.

The next morning, bright and early, you stood outside of the funeral home with two fresh coffees in hand and an optimistic smile on your face. Today was the day that you would convince Issei to come to the wedding if it was the last thing you did.

To be honest, you were completely ready to give up and tell your fiance that his brother had died some terrible death within the last 10 years, but as soon as you’d heard his voice over the phone, asking if you’d been able to convince Issei yet, you chickened out of it.

You didn’t know if you were just feeling extra sentimental or if it was your fiance whining about how now that his mother is dying, family is the most important thing, but you now stood on the sidewalk in front of Issei’s workplace with a renewed vigor and immovable stubbornness.

You walked into the building, scanning the lobby, making sure that Issei wasn’t pretending to be a floating head again.

You frowned at the sight of an empty lobby, walking slowly up to the desk as if you were expecting the gorgeous mortician to jump out at you at any moment.

“Hello?” you called out, trying to crane your neck to look through the small windows of the double set of doors that you’d been through yesterday.

“Hi there!” you heard a new voice come from a different direction.

When you turned your head, you were slightly disappointed to find an unfamiliar young woman, dressed in black, smiling as she walked behind the desk to help you.

“Hello,” you replied, trying to hide your disappointment with a small smile, “I’m looking for Matsukawa, is he here?”

“He actually called in sick today, I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders must’ve sagged a little because the woman looked at you curiously, her eyebrow raising.

“Can I ask why you’re asking for him?”

“Oh it’s nothing,” you sighed, “I’m just engaged to his brother and I’m supposed to convince him to come to the wedding. We got off on the wrong foot yesterday so I thought I’d swing by today and try again.”

The look of shock on the woman’s face was enough to make you straighten your back and hold your coffee a little closer to your body. She must’ve noticed your discomfort as she quickly apologized.

“Sorry, I just totally didn’t expect that to be the reason…. I feel really bad telling you this, but I don’t think you should waste any time on that. Issei hates his brother.”

So Issei’s coworker knows what happened but you don’t? Was your fiance trying to set you up for failure???

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

A look came over the woman’s face, that look that says ‘I’m not supposed to be talking about this, but I absolutely LOVE talking about it’. She leaned over the counter, gesturing you to lean in closer.

“Ten years ago, Issei was engaged to this woman, beautiful girl, a real pretty lady, they’d met in school and decided to get married young so they could start having kids. So one day, Issei gets off work a little early, so he decides to surprise her at her place, and what does he find when he gets there? His brother, buck-naked in her bed.”

“No!” you gasped, horrified at the image of your fiance home-wrecking his brother.

“Yes! So Issei’s pissed right? Screaming and throwing shit everywhere, his fiance’s crying, the neighbors are yelling, and what does his brother do?”

The look of suspense on your face was prominent enough to make the woman behind the desk grin as she paused in dramatic effect.

“He tells Issei that it’s been going on for months and that they’re running off together.”

“What?” you scoff, leaning back away from the woman in awe.

You couldn’t believe what you’d heard. Is that really the kind of man you were about to marry?

“Worst part about it, is that since Issei’s so much younger than his brother, the girl wasn’t any older than 20 while Issei’s brother was nearly thirty six!”

“So what happened?” You asked, feeling slightly faint at the overwhelming amount of information you’d received.

“Nothing, Issei was heart broken, his brother ran off with his girl and there was nothing he could do about it. That’s why they haven't talked in 10 years. And from the sound of it, the whole family took the brother’s side so now Issei doesn't talk to them either.”

You wondered if you looked like a gaping fish at the moment as you grappled with yourself, trying to find words to say. You couldn't believe that your fiance could do something so heinous.

He stole the love of his brother’s life, and obviously it never went further than an affair because he’d never even mentioned his ex to you.

Of course, now that you thought about it, he didn’t mention much of anything to you.

The woman must’ve seen the turmoil on your face and taken pity on you because she reached under the desk and pulled a sticky pad and pen out and started jotting things down.

“Anyways, I’m just gonna give you his address, it’s not too far from here. Swing by if you're brave enough, but now that you know the history, you can’t blame him if he doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

You nodded and thanked her as she handed you the sticky note.

“Now that I know, the only thing I feel is guilty about how I treated him yesterday.” you looked up at the woman, offering a grateful smile “thank you for telling me.”

She waved you off as you began leaving the lobby, “Don’t mention it, I hope everything works out the way it should!”

With one last thank you, you left the funeral home and started off down the street towards Issei’s apartment. With the newfound knowledge of the brother’s history you now realized that asking Issei to come to the wedding was like asking him to reopen old wounds.

And hell, with what you just found out you weren’t sure you wanted to marry this guy anymore. You know what they say, once a cheater, always a cheater. Could you really trust that he hadn’t done the exact same to you in the last five years?

Anyways, the very least you could do now was apologize to Issei and hope that the two of you could treat this like water under the bridge.

So that’s where you’d gotten to where you were. Sitting at his kitchen table as you watched him nurse his hangover with the coffee you brought him and a plate of breakfast that you’d cooked for him.

You watched as he poked at the eggs with his fork.

“Sorry, I didn’t know how you liked them.” you apologized, your voice coming out much squeakier than indentinded. But based on the fact that you were sitting across from perhaps the most gorgeous man you’d ever met who still had bed head and was only sporting a loose fitting pair of black sweatpants, you’d say you were doing pretty good at keeping your voice calm.

“No, they’re good… thank you..” Issei muttered, keeping his eyes on his plate. He couldn’t look up at you right now.

The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was you knocking on his door, and normally that wouldn't have been so bad. In fact, he could think of few things better than the sight of a pretty girl waiting for him on his doorstep. The only reason he didn’t enjoy your early morning visit was because it gave him no time to take care of his raging morning wood, which was significantly worse than usual thanks to you being the star of his dreams the night before.

He glanced up from his plate, trying to sneak a glance at you as you concerned yourself with the view from his kitchen window.

You were even more stunning in the morning light, the sun outlining the soft curve of your chin as you smiled at the city's skyline.

He looked back down at his breakfast, not nearly as appetizing as the sight sitting across from him.

“Anyways,” you said, breaking the silence as you watched him near the end of his breakfast, clearing the plate of the last slice of toast. “I wanted to come by and apologize for how I acted yesterday, I was-”

Before you could even finish the apology, he held a hand up to stop you.

“Don’t even mention it, I was out of line.”

You frowned as he got up to put his plate in the sink behind him.

“Okay….” you said, unsure of how to approach the next topic, “well, I also wanted to talk to you about the wedding,”

As soon as the word ‘wedding’ came out of your mouth you saw his (very nicely built) back tense. So you rushed to finish the sentence as fast as you could to prevent him from completely shutting you out.

“But-more-importantly-I-wanted-to-apologize-for-what-your-brother-did-to-you…”

“What?”

You saw the tick in his jaw and the stern look on his face as he turned towards you. You couldn't help but shrink in on yourself a little, this was the first time you’d seen him as anything but aloof, and to say it was… intimidating… was an understatement.

Hot?.... Yes definitely… but also very intimidating.

“Why would you apologize for that?”

It was a fair question, especially considering that you were also starting to have the sneaking suspicion that you were a victim of infidelity as well. Just because you never caught it, doesn’t mean it never happened.

“I just-”

“-You know what,” he cut you off, holding a palm up to you, “why don’t you let me get cleaned up a little and then I can take you somewhere a little nicer to talk about this.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your face start to heat up at the idea of “going somewhere” to “talk” with this man.

You dreaded what he meant by ‘clean up’, the idea that he’d be showering with only a door or a room, at most, between you was making you ashamedly wet.

You could only pray that Issei didn’t notice the way you unconsciously squirmed in your seat.

And lucky for you, he didn’t. He was far too busy trying to figure out how to get himself to his bathroom without you noticing the sizable tent he could feel beginning to pitch. The only thing helping calm him down from being in the same room as you was the painful reminder that you were his brother’s fiance, along with the mention of what his brother had done to him 10 years ago.

“Okay. I’ll just wait here” you said, nodding as you focused your gaze on your lap, desperately trying to hide your look of embarrassment from Issei as he walked past you to his bedroom.

He closed the door with some kind of ‘make yourself at home’ comment, but once again, you were too preoccupied with your own arousal and ergo embarrassment to reply.

It was only when you’d calmed down a bit did you get up and explore the living room of his apartment. You were surprised to find it littered with not only human anatomy books and atlases (which was to be expected considering his career) but also with books filled with art, and even sketchbooks filled with what you assumed to be his own drawings.

In fact, now that you were looking closer, you could tell that Issei was something of an artist as well, the biggest hint being an easel and half-painted canvas in the corner of the room.

You couldn't help yourself, and went to inspect the work. When you got closer you could see the faint sketch lines on the canvas, and when you looked up from the painting to the window that it faced you saw the pieces of paper taped to the window, references for the painting.

You wanted to say that the painting of the woman was embarrassing. You wanted to say that the sketches of her nude body were scandalous, but you couldn't help but fixate on the beauty of Issei’s work.

The drawings made you feel warm inside, they made you feel seen.

If you squinted, the woman in the drawings almost looked like what you saw when you looked in the mirror. Of course you’d never seen anyone like yourself depicted in any art, so the feeling was definitely new but for some reason, you couldn't stop the warmth that started in your chest from traveling down to rest between your thighs.

And the more you looked at the drawings, the worse it got, as you noticed more sketches, some having the plus size woman drawn in different lewd poses, her curves almost highlighted due to the morning light coming through the paper.

You got so lost in the art that it almost felt like you were the woman in the drawings and that you could feel Issei watching you… memorizing your shape so that he could sketch you.

Your whole body was on fire as your fingers brushed against the papers on the window, tracing the figures outlines with one hand while gliding across your own outline with the other.

Normally you wouldn’t be caught dead acting like this, but it was like Issei’s work had you in a trance. The art mixed with the idea that there was a wet and very naked Issei less than 20 feet away from you had gone straight to your head, almost making you dizzy.

You didn’t know how long you’d been looking at the sketches, and you definitely hadn’t known that Issei had walked out of his bedroom to find you staring at his work a couple of minutes ago.

He knew that he should’ve at least tried to hide all of the shameless drawings of you, for god’s sake he’d only met you for 10 minutes yesterday. But you had haunted him, the only way he was able to sleep last night was after drawing you in all of the poses he longed to see you in.

So he stood silently in the doorway, watching as you traced his work, did you not realize it was you that he had drawn? Unless you were some sort of exhibitionist, you’d never be okay with some strange man you’d just met drawing you, much less drawing you as a nude model.

He let it go on for another minute or two, he wanted to let himself memorize your body again, he didn't know if he’d ever have another chance to see you and he’d be damned if he let his painting go unfinished. But even as he watched you, committing your shape to memory, he couldn’t help the nagging desire to touch you, he told himself that he wanted to feel you because it’d make his art better, he told himself there was no other motive.

He watched you finally move to the painting, watching you, he feared that if he let you continue you’d recognize yourself seeing as the painting held more color and detail.

“What do you think of it?” He asked, making you gasp as you jumped and whirled around to face him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop!” your eyes were wide and panicked, and yet he didn’t see any hint of recognition in them, hopefully meaning you still were unaware that you were the art’s model.

“Don’t apologize…. But please… I want to know what you think.”

You shyly turned back towards the canvas, not brave enough to compliment him to his face.

“It’s beautiful… you’re really good.” you breathed, the heat almost unbearable now that he was in the room.

“Only as good as my model.” he chuckled.

“Well she’s beautiful.” you complimented.

You were ashamed to admit the twinge of jealousy you felt towards the model. You had to remember that you were engaged…. Well at least for now….. in a week…. who knows?

“I think so too.” Issei mumbled from behind you, you could hear him moving but you still didn’t have the courage to turn back around.

You’d hoped that Issei couldn’t detect your arousal, but, of course, he could. What kind of artist would he be if he couldn’t observe? How else would he have looked at you close enough to paint you after just one meeting?

That said, Issei was more than pleased to know that you wanted him just as urgently as he needed you. He wondered if you’d lost sleep over it like him. Even at the risk of sounding naive or rash he wanted to ask you if you’d thought of him last night, as you walked home alone, as you slipped on your night clothes, as you drifted off to sleep.

He felt like a love-sick puppy, a feeling he hadn’t let himself feel ever since the love of his life walked out on him. Of course, with you standing in front of him who knows if she’s truly been his soulmate. If she had been his soulmate then why did you make him feel like this?

“Do you-” the words died on your tongue as you turned to find Issei directly behind you. The two of you were now close enough for him to see the way your breath caught in your chest.

You knew you should’ve stepped back, even risked knocking over the painting to get away, but it felt like your feet were superglued to the floor. You could hear Issei’s heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at you, staring into your eyes as you couldn’t help but stare back.

“Don’t you recognize her?” he whispered, his eyes darting down to your lips.

“I’m sorry?”

Your voice was barely audible, but at least it wasn’t shaking as Issei rested his hands on our shoulders and guided you to turn back towards the painting.

“Isn’t she familiar?”

His lips were right next to your right ear now, his breath warm as it tickled your jaw.

You stayed silent as you tried to focus on the artwork, somewhere deep inside, you knew exactly where this was going, but you had no power to stop it. You didn’t even think you wanted to.

“I don’t know” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt Issei’s palms travel down your sides to rest on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly.

“Look again.” he urged, placing his teeth over your pulse, scraping the skin as he started to massage your hips.

You forced your eyes open, your vision feeling unfocused as you tried to search for familiarity in the lines. It was only when Issei turned your body away from the painting, causing your eyes to drift to the full length mirror propped against a bookshelf, that you gasped in realization.

It was you.

And holy shit was that hot.

You felt Issei grin against your skin, that grin you’d seen him constantly sporting since he’d met you, and you couldn’t stop the quiet whine from leaving your chest.

You pressed yourself back into him, feeling him pressed against the curve of your ass, making him groan.

“Fuck…” he hissed, his hips jerked at the unexpected pressure, making you giggle in response.

He backed away from you, grinning to himself when you spun around, your lips downturned in disappointment.

“Come with me to bed.” He said, taking your hand in his.

You raised your eyebrow at him, a small smile coming over your face.

This morning was all the push you’d needed to break things off with his brother. You had definitely made up your mind to that. Plus…. even if Issei wasn’t looking for revenge against his brother… you were.

But still… that didn’t mean you didn’t want Issei to work for it.

“Hmm… why should I?” you teased, following his lead as he backed into his bedroom.

The grin never dropped from his face, if anything it got more confident. He knew he had you in the palm of your hand, but he also knew that you had him in the palm of yours.

“You really gonna make me beg for it sweetheart?” he asked, pulling you against him and switching your places. You bit your lip as you felt the bed pressing up against the backs of your legs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down till his face was level with yours.

“You would look good on your knees.” you whispered, your lips brushing his.

You felt him twitch against your hip as he cursed under his breath, looking away from your eyes.

Issei knew he needed to pace himself, if you kept teasing him like that this would be over before it started and he definitely couldn’t have that happening.

“Wait, what’re you- hey!” you gasped as Issei pushed you back to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” you asked as you cautiously watched him lower himself to his knees, his hands spreading your legs to let him kneel between your thighs.

“I thought you wanted me to beg…” he teased, laying his cheek against the inside of one of your spread thighs as he looked up at you.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your brain was short wiring at the sight of the dark haired man kneeling between your legs, his hands were so big, his fingers gripping your calves, coaxing you to spread your legs further for him.

You said nothing as you tangled your fingers through his hair, pulling softly to force his gaze up to yours.

His face was red and his pupils blown out, the sight was so erotic you thought you’d cum on the spot. You didn’t know anyone could ever find you this attractive, but as he let out a quiet whine, staring at you through half-lidded eyes, you realized a scary thought.

The thought that this man might want you even more than you wanted him.

“please…” he mumbled, pressing his head into your hand, willing you to guide him where he so desperately wanted to be. “...wanna taste you…”

You felt like you’d taken a nine-iron to the chest. But god did you feel powerful.

You tightened your grip on his hair, as you felt him work off your pants, pulling your soaked panties off with them, biting his lip at the feeling of the damp spot in the center of them.

“You’re so pretty….” you sighed, letting him go to rake your fingers over his scalp, “You wanna eat me out?”

He nodded, his tongue wetting his lips as he practically drooled over the sight of your bare cunt.

He wanted to paint you like this, spread out for him like a fucking masterpiece. But that would have to wait.

He could feel his head weeping against the front of his sweatpants, he’d (thankfully) gone commando in hopes of being where he was now, unfortunately that meant the feeling of the fleece lining was unbearable as he tried to ignore it, focusing on your pleasure first.

Without another word, you laced your fingers back through his hair and pushed his head down between your legs, gasping as you felt his lips quickly attach to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking, making your thighs snap shut around his head.

“fuck….” you gasped, obviously not expecting that overwhelming intensity right out of the gate.

Issei just moaned into you, bucking his hips at the feeling of your thighs pressed against his ears, he ran his hands up your legs to your stomach, guiding you to lay down on your back before hiking your knees over his shoulders.

And despite your position above him, you were completely powerless to his touch, leaning when he told you to, hesitantly opening your legs back up to allow him greater access.

When Issei felt your thighs loosen around his head he nearly cried, but he would have your legs wrapped around his head again, for now he needed to bring you to orgasm as fast as possible.

He pushed you further back onto the bed, helping you lay on your back as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hips pressing his hardened cock into the bedsheets.

His lips pressed to the insides of your thighs, sucking bruises into the skin as your fingers grasped at the sheets behind you.

“You’re so pretty” he muttered into your skin, looking up at you in awe as your chest heaved.

You doubt that you looked any kind of attractive right now, and yet Issei stared up at you like a sinner to a priestess.

“Please…” you gasped, your back arching away from the bed.

“Shhhh… I know…” he whispered, his mouth traveling back to your core, his tongue dipping between your folds, making you practically cry for more.

Issei’s brows were knit together, all of his being focused on not cumming in his pants from your taste. He wanted more…. he needed more.

“please…” he whimpered “...can I use my fingers?”

“N-mhm- yes..yes-please….” you gasped, crying out because as soon as you said it two of his fingers bullied their way into your pussy.

You cried from the burn of it, which melted into moans as his lips soothed your clit while his fingers curled inside of you.

It was gentle at first, he settled on warming you up to his fingers, gently pulling and pushing them in and out of you, kissing your clit with each plea or whine.

But as soon as he felt you relax, it started. He began with just sissoring his fingers inside of you, wanting to stretch you out for his cock before you came.

But as soon as you whimpered the words “..’m close Issei..” he abandoned all patience, pressing his fingers into your g-spot as he scraped his teeth against your clit, making you cry out.

You tried to close your legs around his head again, but he caught one of your thighs with his free hand and pressed it back down against the bed, forcing you to stay open for him.

You tossed your head against the sheets, whining how good it was as Issei buried his fingers into you again and again, pushing at your g-spot until you felt you high coming towards you like a freight train.

“Fuck…-gonna cum…Issei, ‘m gonna cum…”

“Shit..” Issei moaned against your clit, making you jerk against his face, your stomach clenching at the vibrations it sends through your body.

“come on, Sweetheart…. I want you to cum from my fingers…..please…”

Issei leaned back to watch your face as you came, feeling his cock twitch desperately in his pants at the sight of you gasping for air as your legs twitched beside his head.

You couldn’t form a single thought as you felt the wave of your orgasm wash over you, making your mind fuzzy as tears threatened to fall down your face.

Issei worked you through your orgasm, whispering praise against your thighs as he pressed his thumbs into your hips, massaging his fingers into the curve of your ass.

Eventually he worked his way back up your body until his chest covered yours and his hips ground against your thigh, reminding you that this was very much, not over.

Issei could look at you forever. If he thought you were beautiful before, you were absolutely breathtaking now, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

God he needed you. He was convinced he’d need you for the rest of his life.

Still breathless from your high, you hooked a hand around the back of Issei’s neck and pulled him towards you, catching his lips in yours.

He moaned as your fingers pressed into his nape, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He could feel his brain getting fuzzier by the second, he wanted to cum.

bad.

And you could tell with the way he tried to angle his hips away from you, trying to create the least amount of friction against himself as possible.

It was almost cute in a way, it’d been a while since someone needed you this badly, like a hormonal teenager. The only reason it wasn’t cute was because you needed him just as badly. You were ready for him now, your core twitching at the thought of it.

Before Issei knew what had happened, you flipped the two of you around, pinning him to the mattress as your ass rested dangerously snug against his clothed cock.

“Wai-” he started but you cut him off, pressing one of your perfectly manicured nails to his lips.

“It's my turn to have fun.” you said, offering a playful wink before crawling back down the bed to come face to face with his erection.

You could tell that it was painful by now, the only thing preventing it from standing to its full potential was his sweatpants.

Issei thanked god they were black, he’d leaked so much pre by now it probably looked like he already lost it.

Not that you would’ve minded, in fact you were face to face with his tent wishing the pants were gray for that exact reason.

You decided not to be cruel and pulled his pants down, trying (and failing) to hide your surprise when he finally sprang free.

“Fuck…” Issei gasped above you, his fingers gripping his bedsheets, trying not to cum from the look in your eyes.

“You’re so pretty Issei…” you swooned, he winced as your fingers wrapped around him, making you giggle. “Such a pretty boy…” you gave an experimental tug, biting your lip when his hips jumped off of the bed and a whimper slipped out of him.

“Do you want me to help you feel good, pretty?”

Issei could feel his face burn in humiliation as he nodded feverishly, he couldn’t help it, he’d do whatever you told him to no matter how embarrassing, for you, he’d do it.

You moaned as you took him into your mouth, your hand using his precum to stroke what couldn’t fit.

“Fuck…” Issei whined, his hips twitching out of his control with the way you worked him.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, and you only made it worse as you came off of him, only to turn your focus downwards, wrapping your tongue around his balls, taking them into your mouth.

“Shit… wai-fuck…”

You went back to his head, swiping your tongue across the slit, flicking your wrist as you stroked him closer to his high. You knew that he was close by the way his knuckles were white, gripping the sheets as he gasped and panted above you, begging you to slow down.

He really did look so pretty like this, biting his bottom lip while he tried not to cum too soon. It suited him much better than that stupid fucking smirk he always had on.

“Come on Issei…” you coaxed, your hand quickening its pace as his breathing grew even more ragged, “show me how good you feel…”

Issei made the mistake of peering down at your face, you were staring at him through your lashes, biting your lip as you grinned. That’s what made him lose it, the sight of you making him grunt and shake as he released, whimpering as you made a show of catching it on your tongue.

“What a good boy…” you praised, licking up anything that managed to land on his pelvis, enjoying the feeling of his hips shaking beneath your taste buds.

“It’s too bad though…” you said, sticking your bottom lip out in a fake pout as you sat back on your knees watching as Issei’s head raised off the bed to look at you, “‘cause I’m not tired yet.”

You giggled as Issei’s head dropped back down with a groan, he obviously knew where this was going.

You crawled back over him, positioning your hips over his, stroking him, trying to get him hard again.

“Wait” he pleaded, 2 minutes, that’s all he needed and then he could do it again, he just needed two minutes.

You decided to be nice and settled on just grinding against him.

“you’re no fun.” you mumbled, leaning down to leave your own bite marks, something you didn’t doubt he’d done to you already.

You settled on his chest, admiring how soft his skin was, you bit into it, surprised at how hard the muscle was below.

Yes, you knew that he was really fucking built when you saw him in just his sweatpants, you even knew he was built when you saw just how broad his shoulders looked in his nicely tailored work suit, but you were surprised just how strong he felt under your fingertips.

Maybe it was the fact he’d let you take control this whole time that made you for some reason think that he couldn't pin you down if he wanted to, but now you knew, he definitely could.

And god was that a tempting image.

Knowing that he could easily overpower you, could easily force your face into the mattress as he fucked you, but chose to listen to you so nicely was so fucking attractive.

You felt yourself tighten around nothing, keening as your clit caught against the head of his cock when you rubbed yourself against him.

“So good…” you moaned, resting your forehead against his chest, grinding down on his cock.

Issei decided he’d had enough, he was ready whether his dick was hard again or not. Which it was. How could it not be with you on top of him? He could feel your arousal, it made it almost impossible not to just slip his cock into you.

“Please….” he breathed, “...fuck please….”

You giggled from your place above him, leaning back to where you sat against his hips, comfortably sat with him wedged between your thighs.

“Come on Issei….how should I know what you want me to do?….”

Issei just whined beneath you, his body practically shaking under your touch. You brought your hands up to rest on his chest rather than the sheets on either side of his head.

“Please…..” he gasped again, his toes curling into the sheets when your prettily manicured nails circled his nipples.

You just grinned, dragging your hands up his neck, circling to his nape to hold his head, forcing him to look into your half-lidded eyes.

You leaned down towards him, grinding down onto him as you placed pecks on his face, starting from the edge of his lips… then to the arch of his nose… and finally up across his jaw, landing next to his left ear.

“What honey….” you cooed, loving the way you could feel his chest heaving beneath yours as you pressed your tits to him, as if his brain had melted already.

Issei whined, pressing his eyes closed, trying not to cum like a fucking loser before he even had the chance to be inside of you.

“.... you want some pussy, Baby?...”

“Oh fuck…. Please-please-please…. want it so bad…” Issei whimpered, his fingers leaving the sheets to grip the fat of your hips, undoubtedly hard enough to bruise.

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so pathetic.

Without another word, you reached under you, and all in one go grabbed his cock and slid onto it, gasping as you took it to the hilt on the first try.

Issei’s vision went white as he felt you press yourself down onto him, the pulse of your cunt around him making him dizzy, making him whip his head away, trying to hide from you as he let out a choked sob, along with stuttered, breathy ‘thank you’s.

“Fuck baby…” you groaned, reaching back up to cradle issei’s face with your hands, “.....feel you in my fucking throat….”

“..yeah?..... can I move…fuck-please…” Issei pleaded, making you wince with the force that his nails were digging into your hips.

“Fuck…” you dropped your head down, pressing your face into the nook of his neck, trying to stay strong, trying to stay in control as you felt your brain going fuzzy and your tummy turn to jelly. “...yes… please fuck me-ahh-”

You weren’t even able to finish the sentence before Issei’s hips started snapping into you from underneath, the force of his thrusts bouncing you against his chest. You moaned, feeling the air getting repeatedly knocked out of your lungs.

“Shit- slow-slow down Issei…” you winced out, the feeling of him slamming into you so fast was too much too early. If he kept going like this you’d both be done in no time.

“not so much baby…” you said again, trying to catch Issei’s attention after failing the first time, but unfortunately for you he was long gone, the only thing on his mind was pounding into you until you came all over his cock.

Issei couldn’t even hear you as you begged once more for him to slow down, he coudln’t hear anything over the sounds of his own moans and grunts paired with his hard breaths and of course the wet sounds of your cunt as he fucked into you like a fucking rabbit in rut.

He swore to god that there was nothing better than this, than the sound of you moaning above him as he drilled into you, his hands gripping the swell of your ass as you bounced on his cock.

It wasn’t long before you gave up on trying to take it slow, releasing yourself to the pleasure of Issei’s cock pushing at your walls while you cried into his neck, whimpering encouragement into his skin, trying your best to meet his thrusts.

“Oh my goddd….” you gasped after a particularly hard thrust, feeling his tip ram against your cervix when he adjusted you on top of him, bringing his heels up to dig into the mattress to allow him to fuck you even harder.

Your chest was no longer resting against his as the new angle forced you to lean back, barely giving you time to bring your arms behind you to support yourself as he used you.

Issei almost cried at the new position, not only because now he could push into you faster and harder, but because now with every thrust he could watch the way your tits bounced and your eyes rolled back into your head.

He could feel the itch of his orgasm starting in his gut, making him panic at the thought of this ending, at the thought of you getting up and walking out of his life after he scares you away with his intensity. Incidentally, the panic is also what allowed him to finally tune back into his surroundings, tune back into anything other than the feeling of your cunt squeezing him.

“Isseiiiii…” he heard you beg, your voice further ripping him out of his trance, he stilled inside of you, despite every fiber of his being saying not to.

It was only when he stopped that he noticed the way your arms were shaking under you, threatening to give out.

“Fuck…” he said, scrambing to sit up further on the bed, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you into him, allowing your arms to take a much needed break as he pulled your weight properly into his lap. “I’m sorry…” he whispered against your shoulder, “fuck ‘m sorry…. you just feel so good…”

He let you catch your breath, whispering apologies as he sucked more marks into your skin, his hips grinding his pelvis against your clit, making you gasp and keen as his tip rubbed against your g-spot inside of you.

This was almost worse than when he was moving, yeah it felt good, fuck it felt so good that you could barely remember your name, much less the reason you’d wanted him to slow down, but if he continued like this you knew you’d finish for a second time, and while you really wanted to finish, you wanted him to finish inside of you first.

“Issei…” you moaned, leaning away from him to look into his eyes, your cunt tightening around him at the sight of his blown out pupils and red cheeks, making him whine. “Issei let me lay down Baby…”

He nodded aimlessly, his eyes focused only on your tits as you slid off of him, laying down beside him, hoping he’d take the hint to climb over you and continue.

Thankfully he did, or at least got half of the hint. He climbed over you, his forearms framing your face as he resumed grinding himself against you, his cock slick with your arousal as it continued gliding between the folds of your pussy, the tip catching your clit with every stroke, making you both shake against each other.

“...ngh- please baby….” Issei whined against your neck, “...please lemme fuck….”

Your head was thrown back against the sheets, as you moaned out for him, wrapping your arms down and around him, raking your nails against his lower back, making him shiver and whine against you.

“Go ahead baby…” you urged, spreading your legs further for him, “...make me cum”

That was all Issei needed to resume the godless pace he’d set earlier, lining himself up with your hole before hammering you further into the mattress.

You gasped below him, once again feeling him deep enough to wonder if he’d somehow broken your cervix with the power behind his thrusts.

He was drunk on you, whining a repetitive ‘yes, yes, yes’ into your skin before you decidedly to shut him up, gripping his hair and guiding his mouth to one of your nipples.

You both moaned as he latched on, sucking hard enough to make your walls squeeze, practically choking his dick as he continued humping into you like a love-sick puppy. You could feel him twitching inside of you, telling you that he was also close.

“Fuck issei…” you begged, pressing his face closer to your chest, smothering him with your tits as he moaned and jerked into you.

At this point your couldn’t tell who was fucking who, with the way your hips were arching off of the mattress to meet his thrusts, making you both cry as his cock dragged against your insides perfectly.

“Fuck Issei, ‘m close…” you breathed, intentionally squeezing his cock, trying to get him to cum before you fell off that cliff.

He pulled himself off of your chest just long enough to whimper “fuck-me too baby…” before sending whiny vibrations back through your body as he licked and bit at your tits.

“Yeah?” you asked, “you gonna ask me if you can cum inside?”

You felt him jerk inside of you at the thought.

“D’ you wanna cum inside Issei?” you whispered into his ear, biting your lip as he nodded against you, his mouth never leaving your nipple but a pathetic whine coming out of the back of his throat as his thrusts started getting messy and out of sync.

You could both tell that the other was close, and while Issei desperately wanted to make you cum first, you both knew that he wasn’t the one in charge right now.

Issei fucked into you with a continuous stream of ‘please’ coming from his lips between each pant, his thrusts were getting sharper and off beat as he felt his balls starting to pull up, getting ready to shoot his load into you. But he was determined, he wanted to feel you creaming around his cock before he finally filled you.

But of course, you had other plans, your fingers reaching down to dig your nails into his ass cheeks, helping him keep the tempo of his hips slamming into you steady. Your cunt felt so fucking good for him, warm and tight and twitching as your release threatened to rear its head.

It was a silent battle of who’d break first, until you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered into his ear.

“come on issei, give me your cum…. Please…”

That finally pushed him over the edge, making him cry against your chest as he tried to pull himself out of you to finish, thinking that you were just saying to finish inside to make him cum.

But as soon as you felt him try to pull out, you dug your nails deeper into the skin of his ass, pressing his body flush to yours as you felt the ropes of his cum start filling you up.

“Fuck… oh my god….” Issei gasped against you, his legs jerking and abs flexing against you as he felt you milking him dry.

The feeling of his cum pushed you into your release as well, making you throw your head back, mouth open as a silent moan ripped through you, your back arching as you felt yourself gushing, your mixed release dripping down your ass and Issei’s balls, no doubt soaking into Issei’s sheets.

Even if Issei said something to you right then, you didn’t hear it, it was like you lost all ability to do anything other than stare at the ceiling, feeling the waves of your orgasm rocking through your body.

And Issei honestly wasn’t much better, laying against your chest as his hips twitched in the aftermath, making you whine below him as his softening tip rubbed his cum into your raw walls.

Eventually though, Issei came back to, pushing himself back up onto his forearms to make sure you were ok. He just found you staring at his ceiling, your mind still blank and fucked out.

He brought a hand up, brushing your hair out of your face, kissing from your lips to your forehead, whispering ‘thank you’s’ and ‘you did so good for me’s’ as he gently pulled out and left to get a cloth to clean you up.

Somewhere along the process of Issei dragging the warm cloth across your skin, you remembered to feel self conscious due to the light streaming in through the bedroom window’s blinds.

Issei just tsked at your attempts to cover yourself with your hands, did you miss the last hour? He was fucking obsessed with you. You were fucking perfect to him. Fuck, not just to him, you were just perfect.

“Stop.” he grumbled, pulling your hand away from your stomach and replacing it with his own, gripping the plush of it between his fingers, groaning when you whined and jerked against him.

You just rolled your eyes, obviously it was pointless to argue with the man who’d just sucked your tits and gave you probably the strongest orgasm of your life.

“Whatever” you groaned, trying to push him away from you so you could at least retreat to the bathroom. Another plan, which he gladly spoiled as he latched onto you even tighter, abandoning the washcloth and opting to kiss across your neck, trying to distract you from the thought of leaving.

“Come on….” he whispered into your neck, pulling your body against him, groaning at the softness of it, “come take a shower with me… and then….” he reached down to your tits, tracing their outline again with his fingers.

“And then let me draw you again…”

“What am I gonna tell your brother?” you asked, hoping to kill the mood to at least be able to slip from Issei’s grasp, enough to let you leave both of the brothers’ lives without doing more damage.

But Issei just laughed, still tightening his hold on you, forcing you to stay with him in bed.

“Just tell him the truth”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” you said, side-eyeing Issei, watching him grin down at you with that familiar grin.

“That you’re gonna marry the better brother.”

-------------------------

*blows dust off of microphone*

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