#tilt: six tales
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When Cleo’s recently deceased sister comes back to life in the form of a cyborg, Cleo struggles with whether this is something she - or her sister - would really want...
IN LILAC AND SILVER is my upcoming comic in the TILT: SIX TALES anthology collection - now available for preorder on Kickstarter in both print and PDF!
I’m so excited to share this collection with you all - not only am I delighted with the story that I and my two fantastic editors have created (@evegwood & @haridraws), but it’s also joined by five other fantastic and varied stories.
Please consider backing the campaign on Kickstarter, or preordering on the Quindrie Press website! Reblogs and shares welcome!
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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
1 | Something about you
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.
❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…
But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe.
Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…
Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.
Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.
“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”
Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.
And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”
You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”
“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”
You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”
“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.
“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”
“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”
At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.
Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.
Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”
“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.
“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.
You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“
“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”
You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”
“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.
You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”
He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”
Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.
He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”
Your brows lift, “Am I?”
Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”
“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”
The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”
You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”
“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“
“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.
“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.
You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”
He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”
“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.
There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?
Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”
You blink, “A name…?”
“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.
“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.
He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”
“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-
“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.
“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.
“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.
God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…
Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-
“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.
Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??
“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.
The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.
“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“
“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”
You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”
“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”
You hum, “Right, sorry.”
It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.
You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.
Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“
“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”
Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“
“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.
Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.
“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.
Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”
“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”
He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”
“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.
“Damn, really?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”
You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”
“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.
Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”
“Maybe you should,” He tells you.
A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”
The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.
“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.
Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“
Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“
“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.
“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.
Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”
“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”
You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”
The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”
“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.
“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”
“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”
“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.
Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”
His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”
You nod, “I see…”
“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.
You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”
Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”
The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”
“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”
Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.
“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.
Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”
“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.
“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.
“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”
Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”
You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”
“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.
“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”
“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”
Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Gojo hums.
“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.
“Anytime-”
Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”
Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”
You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”
“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”
“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”
“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.
Gojo frowns, “But-”
“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.
Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.
You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”
“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”
Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”
“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”
The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”
“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.
Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.
Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.
The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.
After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.
Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”
Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.
Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”
Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”
You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.
His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”
“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.
"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."
And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.
Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you.
He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…
With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”
“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.
· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·
Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.
Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”
Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.
“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.
His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”
You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”
“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.
Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.
Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.
You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”
“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.
You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”
“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”
You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”
He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”
“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.
Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”
“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”
He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.
“Yeah, very.” You hum.
Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”
You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”
“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”
You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”
Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”
At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.
Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”
Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”
“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.
Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”
“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.
You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”
“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”
“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.
Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”
“Maybe,” You shrug.
His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.
All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”
You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”
Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”
“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.
He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”
“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’
Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”
Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”
He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”
“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.
Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”
You glance at him, “Debatable.”
He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”
“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”
Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”
Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”
“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”
Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”
“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”
You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”
“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”
“Away from you!” You call back.
He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”
Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”
Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”
He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.
· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·
As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.
You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.
You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.
So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.
When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.
That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions.
Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.
Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.
“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.
“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”
He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.
“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.
Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”
You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”
He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.
You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”
“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.
“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”
Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”
Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.
He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“
“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”
Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”
You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.
After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”
“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.
You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”
Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”
“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.
“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”
Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”
Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”
You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”
“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”
“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.
Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”
Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”
He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.
You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”
Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”
“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”
“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.
To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”
He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.
Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.
· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·
All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.
Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.
Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”
You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”
He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”
Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.
Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.
Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“
“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.
You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”
He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”
You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”
And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”
“I’m hanging up,” You groan.
His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
You send him a look, “Are you?”
“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”
Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.
“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.
Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”
Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“
“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.
He shuts up again.
“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.
To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”
“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”
You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“
The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.
Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.
mlist | next chapter |
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Saccharine - E.M
Warnings ® smut! Fluff, soft bf Eddie<3, first time sex as a couple! Nasty IN LOVE smut bc this bitch is a hopeless romantic! Eddie is super sensitive, Established relationship, you stroke his dick, Eddie almost cums in his pants, lil bit of dry humping, this is incredibly self indulgent but u didn't hear that from me, overly descriptive bc why not
You shouldn't be nervous, really. It's just Eddie, who is your boyfriend of three months and twenty-six days. Who is sitting across from you on his creaky mattress criss-cross style, your knees touching. Your Eddie, who has two big hands flailing in the air as he goes on about the recent campaign, broad mouth etched into a whimsical smile, big eyes wondrous and full of excitement for the tale.
The bed bounces with his enthusiasm, and you draw closer to him with each syllable.
Your Eddie, who is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and who is as beautiful as ever in loose fitting plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered black tee that exposes half of his collarbone and smudges of black ink - he doesn't even have to try, and perhaps these simple mundane realizations are what cause the flutter of wings in the pit of your stomach.
"And then Mike - hey, you okay?"
If it weren't for his vast change in expression, you truly wouldn't have realized what a trance you're in. Between the furrow of his unkempt brows and the amused but curious tilt at the corner of his mouth, you come back to earth. The weight of gravity settles in your bone marrow, as his calloused thumb quickly strokes your chin as if to remind you he is still here.
"I - yeah yeah, sorry I just," you grab his hand by the heaviness of his wrist, dragging it into your lap so you can stroke the back of his rough knuckles. "got distracted s'all."
Your eyes divert to where your fingers are joined and the sound of his airy, through-the-nose chuckle has more heat blossoming behind your ribcage, nudging at your organs.
"I'll stop with the D&D talk, know you hear enough about it from the kids. There's only so much dorkiness you should be subjected to, y'know?"
It's lighthearted, he's smirking and looking down at you with enough palpable fondness the apples of your cheeks feel like they're being stroked by a flame. Still, the implication that he may be bothering you in any way has an urgency filling your eyes. You shake your head.
"No, no that never bothers me Eds, don't be silly." The nickname makes his mouth dry, still, after three months and twenty-six days. You finally meet his glance. "You're just handsome, really handsome especially when you're talking about something you're passionate about and I just...yeah."
It's word vomit, messy and you feel like it makes no sense but then he squeezes your hand and you know that he reads between the nervous mumbo jumbo - you have no clue how you make him feel, do you?
"You're fucking cute." He breathes out earnestly, smoothing his grip upwards to your forearms and pulling you forward with minimal effort - right onto the stirdiness of his lap.
Your giddiness is the perfect portrait, your arms finding a resting place atop his broad shoulders. Curls tickle the tops of your arms and your wrists, and your thighs brace your frame by the slim of his taut waist. He can't help it, the giggles escaping his throat. The proximity is intoxicating for no reason at all.
"Can't believe this is our first time spending the night together, I'm so used to falling asleep on the phone with you that it really doesn't feel all that different." He smooths your hair out of your eyes, tucks it behind your left ear.
I get to touch her like this, he thinks to himself. His chest jostles underneath the muscle and bone.
"Yeah, except I get to fall asleep with you'n my arms, wake up with you in em' too. I'm one lucky son of a bitch, hmm?"
He's practically thinking out loud, but he's too far gone to feel shame. When you nuzzle your face against the warm nook of his neck, wet lips smiling against the flesh, his encapsulating arms squeeze you impossibly tighter. He buries his nose against the top of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. Your cheek grazes the side of his jaw as you meet him face to face, nose to nose.
He sees you trying to formulate words, a sentence, even a sound but none of it seems like a totally accurate way to express the adoration threatening to consume you from the inside out. You graze his cheek with your mouth, slowly, tentatively, and he hangs on with half an air full of lungs.
You suckle his bottom lip and he sighs into your mouth, the relief making him lightheaded. He kicks into gear and pushes back with an overlap of his mouth - hands wandering over the small of your back, to your soft lovehandles and upwards until his fingrtips have passed your jugular and he's holding your face as tenderly as you're holding his.
It's now, when you feel it - the growing firmness beneath he thin material of his bottoms. He tries to keep it at bay but it's damn near impossible, and the whimper, the fucking whimper you let out when his soft tongue touches yours from the warm cavern of your mouth - he couldn't stop it from twitching even if he wanted to. He's only a man.
And you're a menace. As new as this is, your body reacts to the prod in between your legs, underneath your crotch. You press yourself tighter to his frame, hips scooching against his hard-on in the process and he stiffens.
"Mmm, baby baby..." your pout is immediate when he breaks from your mouth, brows furrowed and lips a kiss bitten fuschia. For a moment, you think you've taken it too far too fast - he's stopped you from moving completely. Your whole body burns with a tingly sensation somewhere between shame and the aftershocks of arousal.
"Are you...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"
You sound so sweet, it makes his lower belly ache among other things. He stifles a laugh brcause he knows it will only make you feel worse. Something wrong. Something wrong.
"Fuck no, I-sorry I just uh...almost..." He can't bring himself to say it, you guys haven't even been kissing for five whole minutes and here he is about to blow his load. When you realize how close his dark lashes are from kissing his cheeks, how his pupils have almost turned the whole of his irises onyx, you connect the dots.
Woah, you did that to him? That moth in your belly threatens to take flight, and without much thought, your mouth is moving before you can stop it.
"I wanna see."
Those are the only words your brain allows you to spit out. His chest has gone still, and you feel that twitch against your center again. Your thighs have begun to tremble.
"You wanna see...? My cock?" He shouldn't sound so incredulous. You're his girlfriend for christ's sake, but you are important to him. More important than he ever thought anyone could be, and so he has kept his lust at a minimum of 48% when he's around you for the most part. Save for intense makeout sessions.
"Yeah, I wanna...well I wanna know how to make you feel good."
He's worried for a moment that he's having another wet dream, but he's sure this is real life because he feels how warm you are against him and you are so close he can see his own reflection in your eyes. You toy with the shell of his ear and a chill ascends his spine.
"Sweetheart if you touch me m'not gonna last long." His skin is pink and scarlet, and he's gotten at least ten degrees hotter judging by the heat billowing off of the back of his neck. His adams apple bobs when he swallows.
"That's okay, really it is. You have nothing to be embarrassed about....I like it. Like that I make you feel that way. " You rake your fingers through the front of his hair, pushing it away from his pretty face. He checks your eyes again, needing confirmation.
"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He gnaws on the inside of his plush mouth, tries to calm the animal inside of him that wants to fuck your brains out right now. He almost feels guilty just thinking about it, until you lean over to peck the side of his stubbly chin, fingertips grazing his taut belly.
"Yes, really wanna."
There is a curious, nervous anticipation in the crinkle underneath your eyes.
"Kay' baby, explore all you want." The boyish smirk he gives is enough to have that knee buckling tingling sensation coming back full force as he presents himself to you like this. Does he seem as pulled together and totally not overly nervous as he thinks he does? Probably not.
His arms depart from your body, ribs expanding as he reclines on his palms. Tendons flex and stretch underneath the black bats and fuzzy layer of hair atop his forearm. You swallow, intimidated by the beauty of the boy.
You find the courage to finally move off of his lap so that you can take him all in, and the bulge of his cock swipes the underside of your thigh as you slide off.
You don't know where to touch first. That's a lie, your hands almost instinctively slip underneath the hem of his old shirt, where that dark thatch of hair trails under his belly button. He's soft, so soft it's unreal, he is velvet and delicious scarring and beauty marks. His tummy convulses underneath your hand.
He watches you with complete fixation. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and you don't even realize it, all perched and pretty in front of him. He closes his eyes when you explore his sides, over the planes and arches and past the small stretch marks by his chest.
You can't ignore it anymore, the tent that has formed at his crotch and continues to throb with each passing touch.
The blunt of your nails rake down the soft plaid covering thick thighs, and he takes this sharp breath that has you glancing up at him with heavy eyes.
"So pretty...Eds you're so pretty." You say it ardently, your voice small and weak. An arm reaches down, strong but gentle as he strokes the back of your plush cheek with his ring covered knuckles.
"Can't fucking believe...can't believe you're mine, finally. Shit." He's almost murmuring to himself again, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Maybe he's losing his mind, maybe this is heaven.
Then your palm presses against the thick of his cock where it's bulging out, and his thighs spasm.
"Oh, oh." He's all curses and praises, giving you encouraging glances each time you look up at him to silently ask for guidance. You move your hand up and down what you assume is his shaft, and he keeps his hips from bucking into your touch. He feels thick, and the back of your mouth starts to water.
Without warning you're hooking your fingers into his waistband, and he lifts his hips in compliance so that you can pull them down to his mid thigh. He has no time for nerves anymore. Any fear he previously had about what his dick looks like, or what you'll think of it, is stripped along with his clothing. You're looking at him with too much love for him to be insecure - and that takes him by surprise the most.
At this point his checkered boxers are just in the way, and you take it upon yourself to pull those down too. A thud hits his belly.
And really, you should've known. He's big. Not because he's impossibly long, his size is above average but he's thick - the tip iridescent with precum, the same shade of plum as his lips underneath the slick sheen. He is slightly curved upwards, a prominent vein decorating the underside parallel to his frenulum. It's pretty, just like the rest of him. He's neatly trimmed, which is the most surprising part if you're honest - but nothing about Eddie could ever be displeasing to look at.
Your mouth is parted with this expression of surprise, and Eddie almost can't believe what this is doing for his ego.
"Woah." Is all you say, transfixed when you reach out to grasp the appendage. He hisses through his teeth when your small hand finally grasps it, so fucking warm and so gentle it's almost maddening. You both feel it, the invisible weight that has settled in his small, messy room.
The weight of being alone, together, all night and all of tomorrow afternoon while his uncle Wayne is away on a business trip that is probably more lucrative than what he leads on - but Wayne has never been one to boast or speak about things like that out loud. Says it'll jinx the whole thing.
The feeling hits you first, as you find this foreign courage to lean over and dribble spit over the slit of his cock. He gasps, watching the glob of saliva drip down the front of his dick till it's soaking into the curls at his pubic mound.
"Is this okay?" You already know the answer but you ask anyways, taking more pride than you should at the expression on the pretty metalheads face. He nods his head fervently, unable to respond right away.
You twist your palm, spreading your spit further until his whole head is covered and you're able to stroke him with no resistance.
"Fuuuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good baby." He's panting as you begin to properly jerk the tip of him off, the sounds in the room too lewd for you to handle. A squelchy feeling has developed between your thighs, led by each filthy groan that leaves your boyfriend's throat.
Then you're looking at him through fluttery lashes and a gone expression, with your chest rising and falling almost as rapidly as his and thick fingers grasp your wrist quickly, rougher than anticipated.
"Sorry, just - close."
Seeing his hand blanket yours over his cock is doing something to you. You know his palms like your own, hold them more than you look at your own, and yet right now such a sweet thing has never been more provocative.
"Shh, no more apologizing," you lean over and he meets you in the middle. The kiss is sloppy this time, evidence of the maddening desire taking him over from the inside out.
"Not fair," his voice is strained through your mouths ministrations. "Got me all worked up and you're sitting there neglected." He smiles and his tongue strokes your bottom lip. You shudder as that heat comes in an overwhelming wave.
He's gripping the back of your neck now, properly hungry and your hand continues its ministrations between your bodies, that wet sound prompting a shared groan from the both of you - intensifying the feeling. His nose is scrunched against your cheek from the vigour of his kisses.
"You can undress me."
He doesn't waste time once you've granted him verbal permission, and with an exhale you're being tipped over onto your back, breathing in the weight of him as nimble and eager fingers pull his tee shirt over and off your body.
"Jesus," He whines, and you're captivated by the look on his face. It's impossible not to feel flustered.
"Can I-" you don't let him finish.
"Yes, please touch me." You're just as fucked as he is, arching your chest upwards and into the warm, all encompassing mass of his palm. He stifles a groan, cock bobbing up and down in the space between you two, dribbling with a bead of pre arousal. You feel like you're losing your mind.
Eddie short circuits for about five whole seconds flat, and he can't concentrate. He makes a bee - line to your chest, plush lips sucking your swollen nipples into his mouth. A gasp and a pulse of your poor clit later, and your fingers delve into his curls like they'll keep you here in this moment forever.
He's sloppy, moving between the valley of your breasts to the other one, leaving trails of spit across your flesh.
"Eddie, that - that feels so good, can't - mmph." You're a mess. How are you such a mess? He's a phantom, a head of hair across your sternum until he glances up at you with saliva soaked lips and red cheeks and a sweaty forehead.
"Sweet girl, oh god I can't believe..." All you taste is him, the words being uttered between the space when he forces himself to breathe. "can't believe you're all mine, wanna make you feel so fucking good. Give you anythin' you want."
He lies his full weight on you, and through the thin sleeping shorts you've got on, his cock beckons you with throbs and weeps. You feel drunk off of him, every sense surrounded by Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.
His shampoo from two days ago, the old spice lingering under his arms, the natural scent of his skin, the sweetness of his breath and the perspiration that's formed in little beads on his upper lip. He's all but devouring you, lust and admiration for the angel beneath him taking over any sense of importance regarding anything else.
Your heels dig into the back of his bum, knees pulling inward so that his hips come clashing into yours. Your fingernails claw on the material covering his back, taking it upon themselves to pull it over his head. He's beaming like a kid in a candy store at your eagerness, eyes all crinkly underneath.
"Want me to grab a rubber now?" He mumbles between the sloppy kisses, hoping you can't hear the hitch in his throat at the prospect of this finally happening.
"Mhmm, yes." It feels just as surreal for you.
He whines as he departs, reaching over across your head to pull open his bedside drawer and ungracefully tear open the new box of condoms. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms flexing with intensity from his excitement. He groans out of frustration, and you giggle, grasping his thick forearm.
"Let me help baby." You reach in the drawer for him and pull the box out, finishing the rip he'd made and pulling out a metallic row of squares. You tear one at the perforation and hand it to him, grinning at the entire situation. He huffs and rests his forehead between the valley of your breasts.
"What would I do without you?" He mutters, matching your expression when he lifts his head back up and pushes forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose.
"Not have sex, I suppose." You bite back with no hint of malice, only an insurmountable level of love and he sees it shimmering everywhere around you. His girl. His.
"You're somethin' else, sweetheart." He mouths the side of your face, across your jaw and underneath your ear.
You feel like you're in a psychological limbo, in a world between consciousness as he sits back on his haunches and lifts his shirt off of his body from the back of his collar. That may be a dramatic sentiment to many, but it's fitting.
He does it so casually, throws his shirt to the side with the rest of discarded clothing and stray items that live on his bedroom floor. You feel weak in the knees when he tears the condom package and pulls out the slippery rubber, unraveling it before bringing it down to his cock.
You watch his face the way his pink tongue darts out and nips the tip of his tongue, brows furrowed in concentration and arousal as he fits the condom down his thick shaft. You watch his biceps twist, his taut abdomen clench, the black ink coming alive with the ministrations of his muscles underneath.
When he meets your eyes again, you look completely overtaken with desire, eyelids heavy and breath bated. Your pebbled nipples stand at full attention, mimicking his dick and Eddie hooks his fingers underneath those infuriatingly sexy shorts of yours so that he can get rid of them.
You're not wearing underwear. Of course you aren't. Your entire existence is specifically designed to test the bounds of his composure, of his strength. The gold room lighting from his lamp illuminates your body and your shy thighs only part when he's placing his palms between them, slowly encouraging them to allow him a peek or two.
You reach out to stroke his arms as he separates your legs, his jaw hanging ever so slack, cock twitching just a few centimeters away from your opening.
"Fucking hell...you're so goddamn pretty." He strains, swallowing hard as he touches you with hesitant hands, as if he's scared to break you. Your hips lift, just enough to make contact with the tip of his dick and you whine. It's a sound so sweet he almost whimpers himself.
"Please, Eds. I want you inside of me. Please."
His stomach tightens and he crawls over you once again, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
He maintains eye contact, breath fanning your mouth as he slips an arm between your bodies and grips his shaft, lining it up with your entrance. Your thighs lift towards your chest, ankles stationed at his waist, and you feel the welcome intrusion of his tip as it passes your slick labia.
You both take a breath in, your fingers needing a vice and moving to the back of his neck as he pivots his hips forward and slips himself into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch causes you to hiss, both in pleasure and pain.
"You okay? Let me know if I need to stop." He grunts, kissing your chin.
"M'okay, don't you dare stop."
His eyelids flutter in tandem with yours, a choked moan leaving his throat as he continues to push himself in, till he's nudging against the soft roundness of your cervix and his balls are resting against your ass.
It feels right. Having him this deep, this close.
You shudder nuzzling your face against the bicep that holds him up. You kiss the skin there and he groans, dragging himself back out and then back in. Your whole body jostles with the movement.
"Jesus Christ, how do you feel s'fucking good? I don't - I can't, fuck." He's a slur of words, beginning to form a steady rhythm. Your moans are more like squeaks the faster he goes, increasing the lewd, sticky sounds between your legs that squelch with each drag and pull of his cock.
"Eddie...E-eddie." Your words are hiccuped from the impact, his hair dangling in your face, tickling your cheeks. His belly is pressed right against yours, the curls at the mound of his pelvis pressed against yours. He lets out this pained sound and goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck.
"My name, fuck say it again. Say it again." It's muffled but you can hear it right underneath your ear, his lips a soft vibration against your flesh. You feel so full, it's hard to speak at all. To say anything other than his name. So you recite it like it's the only words you know.
"Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie." They're all punctuated with a whimper that starts from your diaphragm and crawls it's way out of your throat, pistoned by his hips and their grueling ministrations. Skin against skin can be heard from down the park, you're convinced, with how he's fucking you.
Eddie is fucking you. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is fucking you.
"Ohhhh, god, please." You cry out, heels digging into his back, hands splayed across the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. Every breath that passes his lips is followed by a grunt, a groan, a sound that is so close to agony and even closer to toe curling pleasure.
Each stroke of his cock inside of you feels like a pull into his being, and you get frustrated with the fact that you can't see his face, tugging at the back of his neck.
When you look up at the boy above you, reality, for once, feels like the most beautiful thing you've ever endured.
He's flushed, all sweat and shades of pink and red. His eyes are glassy, mirroring yours in the way that it almost looks like he could shed a tear. You move his sticky bangs from his forehead and Eddie is sucker punched in the gut with a wave of adoration.
"Oh, sweetheart," he leans down, slowing his thrusts so that he can kiss you steadily, purposefully. Somehow he feels deeper this way impossibly so, and he nips your bottom lip when you flutter around him. "didn't mean to...to not show you attention m'sorry, just...you feel so good. S'like heaven."
He's half sober half drunk on your pussy and it's so fucking endearing. Neither of you can make out a coherent sentence.
"Keep - keep going, just like that, ohhh." You glance down between your bodies and somewhere behind your organs a warmth, teetering unbearable, flutters throughout your limbs. His arms shake with the fight to hold himself up, until he doesn't anymore, and slips his hands underneath you till they're sandwiched between the mattress and your back. Snug, safe, he engulfs you.
His thrusts are deep and slow now, meaningful instead of mindless bunny fucking. Which, he's not opposed to, but you're you. He wants to fuck you like he might not ever get the chance to again.
"I love you, I love you." He whimpers against the crook of your shoulder. You hold him with the same ferocity that he's holding you, staring up at the ceiling and the stars that blanket your vision instead of the fan above.
"I love you too, fuck, Eddie."
He makes this noise, it's almost pathetic. Petulant. That coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist.
"Cu-Cumming, I'm cumming." Your walls flex and spasm around his length and Eddie thinks he might pass out. You're still twitching and whining his name with his balls are emptying, when he's spurting into the condom, nudging your cervix.
"Fuck, fuck just like tha- ohhh fuck." He thrusts like he's fucking his cum into you, like he's filling your womb up and making you his forever. He made you cum. He's never felt this high before, and he's a fucking drug dealer.
It's a mixture of panting and the thud of your shared heartbeat for what feels like eternity and one split second. You feel his lips peppering soft, gentle kisses along your jugular, and your fingers trace lines up and down his warm back as his cock softens inside of you.
He rubs his cheek against you, and your fingers pull his hair away from his pretty face. He's looking at you with so much love you could burst again.
"I love you so much." He speaks tenderly, softly, for once. It's scary and breathtaking all at once. The tip of his nose rubs yours, your smiles a reflection of the other.
"I love you too, Munson."
And you do. You really fucking do.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#joseph quinn#stranger things#stranger things x reader#joseph quinn x reader#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson has my heart
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pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
summary: lucerys velaryon witnesses a moment he should've never laid eyes upon.
warnings: explicit language. fluff and girl dad!aemond. aemond also spits sexy poetry at his girl. uhhh lucerys signing his death warrant maybe???
notes: hehehehe i'm enjoying this pairing SO MUCH GUYS
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
It is Lucerys Velaryon, three and ten, that catches onto the relationship, though it was by honest mistake on his part. Or a stupid decision, perhaps. He never meant to lay eyes on such an intimate yet indecent moment.
The dinner held an hour before was an embarrassment to his family, that he understood quite well. It was wrong for him to provoke his uncle into a fury and, even worse, to allow his temper to flare past reasonable judgment. His right cheek still throbbed where his uncle Aegon slammed him hard against the table, nicking his browbone with the edge of the plate. But it was the look his mother gave him that seemed to float before him in the hallway’s darkness, against the very stones of the Red Keep.
She was disappointed in him, very much so. Daemon too, probably.
Lucerys felt the great need to apologize.
It clambered up his throat and settled deep within his head, causing his stomach to roil and fingers to tremble.
He needed to apologize.
So he stands before his uncle Aemond’s chamber, counting his breaths in some wretched attempt to steel his nerves. One, two, three….four, five, six….he repeats in his mind, over and over, as his knuckles ghost over the door…but then he notices the slight crack between the two doors. His eyebrow raises. It is large enough to peer inside, where he hears a soft voice, young and feminine.
His mother always did say he was naturally curious during boyhood, but she also would say that curiosity killed the cat, and snooping was a nasty habit for a realm’s prince to pick up. Against his better nature, Lucerys leans in for a small peak.
Lucerys recognizes her as his uncle’s personal handmaid- a young maid, fair and cheerful and beautiful. She smiled at him in the earlier hour, at both him and his brothers, when she passed by the three carrying a handful of freshly washed linens. He remembers it quite well, actually. Despite being clothed in plain servant rags, he had thought she was absolutely lovely. And she had been the only one to spare him a sliver of kindness, no prudence.
He saw her again later in the day, trailing after Aemond. His handmaid, Prince Daemon mumbled to his mother, a smirk on his lips. Ah, but a maid of her beauty does not stay one for long. His mother ignored that, and he tried to as well.
Inside the room, he sees the pretty handmaid rocking in a chair, clutching a tiny babe to her chest. Back and forth, forth and back.
No, he soon realizes, dark eyes widening. The babe is feeding from her breasts. Was she a wet nurse as well? Lucerys tilted his head at the thought. She did not look old enough to be considered one, the majority being well in his senior. He watches as she continues rocking, singing a lullaby beneath her breath before bringing the babe’s plump face to her lips for a kiss.
“The Mother gives the gift of life, and watches over every wife. Her gentle smile ends all strife, and she loves her little children….the Crone is very wise and old, and sees our fates as they unfold. She lifts her lamp of shining gold to lead the little children….”
His uncle then steps behind her, leaning to kiss her brow before her lips. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Lucerys hears the handmaid say, smiling up at Aemond. He grins, nodding. “Absolutely beautiful. A mirror of her mother, I’d say,” and he kneels to one knee beside the chair, pressing his forehead against her shoulder. He kisses the bare skin there- once, twice, thrice, and his mouth moves, but Lucerys cannot hear what he is telling her.
Whatever it is, though, it makes his handmaid giggle and shy away, shifting her gaze back on the babe.
“Are you happy?” she asks.
His nuncle sighs. “My girl, my love, I’ve told you before- I love anything and everything you give me,” and he reaches forward to take the babe in his arms, cuddling her close, “-but you have answered my wishes. You have given to me the most beautiful daughter, with your eyes and enchanting smile and nose.” Aemond glances at her, then bring her palm to his lips and mumbles against it, “And I love you. I love you. I love you.”
“I have only done my duty, my prince. I am, as always, your humble servant.”
Aemond rolls his eye. “If I could give it, the realm would be yours, and you would rule as its queen. No more a fucking servant.”
The handmaid shakes her head, laughing as she leans back in the rocking chair. “I have no need for a realm; I’m quite content in having your bed and children as mine, my love.”
Ah. His uncle Aemond One-Eye has bastards. How many, Lucerys does not know, but the babe swaddled within Aemond’s arms is his and the handmaid’s, no doubt. He wants to let out the bark of bitter laughter bubbling inside his chest, to scream at the heavens and curse out any listening gods, before running to tell Jacaerys and Lady Baela and his Rhaena. Lucerys turns his attention back to his uncle. How dare he mock his bastard origins when he himself is fathering his own handmaid’s children.
To the health of my nephews- Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…strong. ‘Twas only a compliment…do you not think yourself strong?
How dare he act any better. How fucking dare he. Aemond’s words did not wound him as much as before, not with the bastard baby lying in his arms.
It leaves Lucerys’s head pounding to the same beat as his heart. Bum. Bum. Bum. But then his breath hitches in his throat when his uncle lifts his head up, a lone purple eye meeting his own. Aemond gives him a cool stare. Dead. Dead. Dead. He rises to his feet, gently resting his daughter back in her mother’s arms, before standing in front of his handmaid, barring any further view of her.
“Aemond, what is it?”
Lucerys quickly pulls back from the door, stumbling and falling on his ass. All he can hear now is his heart hammering in both his ears and his uncle’s heavy footsteps looming closer and closer. “Aemond?” the handmaid’s voice calls out, loud and honeyed. “Where are you going?”
To murder me, the prince thinks, jumping to his feet. He turns to sprint down the hallway, braving only one final glance over his shoulder. What he sees terrifies him.
Aemond stands at the door, staring at him with a narrowed eye. The same glare he gave him during the dinner, cold and filled with pure animosity. If the Stranger was to be a mortal man, Lucerys would believe him to be his uncle, especially at this moment. There is a message twisted in his sharp features, in the furrow of his brows, the sneer curled on his lips, and the dagger clasped in his hand.
He won’t live much longer, less if his tongue shares what he witnessed tonight.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond drabble#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond the kinslayer#house of the dragon#handmaid!reader#house of the dragon imagine#hotd fanfic#vic writes 🧸
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The Perfect Girl
Summary: Somewhere along the line the villain won and the hero lost. Now your life is nothing more than a cautionary tale.
Part #2 of Imposter Syndrome but can be read as a stand-alone. Part #3 The Spider's web
Warnings: Dollification, yandere themes but like more than usual, abuse, violence, horrible Spanish, NO NSFW but the reader and Miles are 18+. Friends to enemies to one sided lovers. This plays out as a cautionary tale.
Author's note: Can you tell I'm bad at writing Intimacy??😂🤣
You squirm uncomfortably on Miles's lap. Arms awkwardly thrown around his neck as you try to hide your face in his chest. Miles sits proudly, face void of emotions and voice overflowing with authority. He's barking orders to his underlings. For what you're not sure, you've long since stopped listening in on his conversations, your inability to do anything coupled with the innocent lives you know would be destroyed was enough to keep you awake at night. And consciousness was the last thing you wanted these days.
It's been six weeks.
Six weeks since the Prowler defeated New York's last beacon of hope. Six weeks since he'd been welcomed into the Sinister Six as their newest member. They're shining star.
Six weeks since he stole you away from everything you knew,
everything you loved.
You hear the padding of feet and the loud thump of the door. You're alone with him again. So the nightmare begins anew. You're reluctant to lift your head, to face your capturer. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. It's funny how once, back when you'd still wore your beloved silk mask, you had used to count the minutes until your midnight rendezvous.
Miles's fingers reach towards you, tilting your chin up. His smile is razor sharp, deformed as if he can't quite remember how to smile. "Muñequita" he mutters like a disjointed prayer as his fingers glide up your side. Drowning you in a sense of impending doom.
You stare into his eyes. Two voids that have seen every nightmare imaginable. Any saint, any sweet innocent boy whose been trapped inside the darkness for this long comes out as a monster. Stumbling through the night with knives instead of teeth and an appetite for destruction. Miles Morales may have been a human once, a long time ago. Before you met him, before the savior of New York met him. But now he's a monster, one who has long since buried any morals and dignity he may have once had.
Sometimes when the night rages on and you're caged between his arms and sentience. you wonder if maybe, just maybe you should go digging for any of the virtues that he's buried six feet deep. But when he laughs and tauntingly presses on a new bruise with his thumb, you conclude quickly that it's better to leave his good qualities dead. it's easier to hate him that way.
"How does it feel to sit in your arch nemesis's lap?"
He jabs as he pinches your cheek. You let out a soft cry of annoyance as you shift your gaze away from your tormentor.
Miles revels in your fall from grace. Adores pinching and probing you in front of his minions or the rest of his gang members. Loves taunting you after every failed escape attempt. You try to bite his finger, to make him feel a fraction of your pain. But before your teeth can graze his skin, he releases your cheek. He laughs, low and fragmentary. A haunting noise that reminds you that he barely counts as human anymore, just a heartless ghost masquerading as a real boy. "Trying to rebel again mi amor?".
You fight the urge to pick at the flesh of your face or bite your fingers until you reach the bone.
Miles's eyes narrow, annoyed at your lack of a response. He's growing bored, he always does when his pet refuses to play along. His gauntlet reaches for your neck. Squeezing as the claws bite into your flesh.
you should let him kill you, give him the final satisfaction of watching your blood blemish the skin-tight dress he's made you wear. Watch as the life leaves your eyes. "let's try this again mami. When I ask, how it feels your response should be.."
"I love you Miles" you mutter, all deadpan and defaced. "Not like that say it the way I taught you" he hisses, a threat, you note wearily.
"Te amo Miles"
"Bino"
Sometimes you think that he's foolish enough to believe your reprised lie. It almost helps him deceive himself into believing he still has a soul left.
He thinks he loves you.
You think he doesn't know what love quite is.
You use to be a hero, use to be revered and respected by all. You use to be someone, someone important. Laminating about all of this now will do you no good.
You're nothing more than a doll now. Painted and dressed the way Miles likes, posed forever perfectly on his lap. Flaunted and paraded as all prize trophies should be. You guess it makes sense. To the victor goes the spoils. You wonder if you would have done the same to him if you had emerged triumphant that night. Deep down, where logic doesn't reach, you know you would. At least you would have let him keep his dignity. You're not like him, you're not a villain...
But you're not a hero anymore either. What are you supposed to be anyway? When questions like this bubble into your withering mind. You force yourself to choke down the idea that you're still good, you have to be. You're not like him, like them. You're afraid that someday you'll look in the mirror and every ounce of your virtues will have evaporated. You promise yourself that that'll be the day you do something drastic. To yourself or Miles, you're not sure yet.
Miles's fingers trace the indents on your neck. Angry red puncture holes left by his steel claws. He buries his face in the crock of your neck. Licking the measly blood drops from the wounds before tenderly kissing his territory. "Stop it" you grumble trying to push at his chest. But he just growls in warning, ignoring your feeble attempts. "I got you a present, Mami" he whispers over your jugular. You flinch, as he detaches from your neck with a final kiss. He maneuvers you off his lap as he gets up and walks over to a closet on the other side of the room. Plucking out a necklace from one of the drawers.
Necklace is a generous term. Its neck tight and studded. With a silver chain hanging dead-center that speaks of horrors untold. You know what it implies, you know what he's trying to say, trying to prove. You never thought you'd miss the Prowler's iron glad punches to your stomach but you think this might just be worst. At least back then you'd been able to fight back. Reimburse every punch with a kick or stab of your own. Now you are helpless, frail. Broken glass perpetually embedded in soft cotton. Something wild, something tamed. Golden specks of a crown long since shattered tint your hair. All ghosts of who you once were.
"What do you say, muñequita," He says. In a tone that's sick, in a tone that's sweet. Like rotten nectar trickling down a destroyed paradise. Like boiling blood dripping from a broken heart. There's a click, as he fastens his present around your neck. An endless second before reality comes crashing in.
"Gracias Miles" You reply as you feel your last shard of freedom disintegrate.
You use to be something, someone. Carved from porcelain ideals and ivory hope. Divine ichor ran through your veins as you swung across New York's skyline. You had been chosen, but you hadn't been enough.
Now it feels like someone tore you apart. Ripped away your flesh, your bones, your thoughts, your soul. Stitched you up wrong with a rusted needle and a thread of ash. And all you could do was sit there and watch as your golden blood seeped through ruptured veins.
Miles grabs your shoulders. Pulling you close enough so the spikes of your necklace cut into his flesh. His lips bite yours teasingly before they finally merge into a dreadful kiss. He isn't the Prowler you remember, albeit you know that's wrong. He's not the Prowler you had fabricated when you'd thought that the two of you were both innocent souls driven to madness by this city. You use to think that Miles was beautiful, a moon-kissed face with stardust dripping from his eyes. Now you know the truth. He's nothing more than a nightmare, the embodiment of starless darkness and the terrors that lurk upon blackened city streets. He's not your friend. He never was. You were just so foolish and overwhelmed back then.
"You're mine, héroe." His voice is nothing short of a dagger laced with venom. Spreading apathetic poison from your heart to your lungs and leaking into your bloodstream. You see blood behind your eyes when your eyelids shut. Feel the apprehension pounding in the hollows of your bones.
You've long since hemmed every hole where your pride and glory use to bleed through. But it's so hard to keep divinity down when it's all you've ever known. This life isn't yours. This thing that Miles has forced you to be isn't you. There's still hope, you think. Heroes never lose hope. It's a lesson everyone learns, sooner or later.
Later that night Miles kisses you again, this time whispering how to him you are perfection personified. The dark circles under your eyes and bloody knuckles validate that. He traces circles on your arms whilst telling you about how the Sinister Six plan to expand their operations to the next city over. All this makes you wonder if he'd ever been a sweet little boy, tucked under his mother's arm, whilst his father kisses his cheek. Of if he's always been a merciless monster who wears his kills like honor badges.
You pray under your breath as he reminds you that you're no longer a hero. You wonder if you pray because you are human or if praying makes you human. There are still some fragments of hope bubbling inside you regardless of what he says.
Miles likes to remind you that you no longer have the power to save anyone. That the villains won and the heroes lost and that's the way this story ends.
You refuse to believe him.
#miles morales x reader#miles morales#across the spiderverse#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42#yandere miles morales#yandere miles morales x reader#across the spider verse spoilers#yandere across the spiderverse#miles morales prowler#prowler miles#spiderman across the spiderverse#atsv miles morales#atsv#yandere atsv#miles x reader#yancore#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere#marvel x reader#marvel headcanon#marvel#yandere marvel#yandere marvel x you#42 miles morales#miles morales fanfiction#yandere spiderverse
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summary: basically ghost and the reader are in a no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits, type of situation, but the reader wants it to be a real relationship. ghost says no and the reader is like okay that's fine byeeee and the reader flirts with a guy at a bar and ghost gets just a little bit jealous.
pairing: simon "ghost" riley x f!reader
a/n: listen, i know..tale as old as time, but if it ain't broke don't fix it! also this is longer than i intended it to be, but i hope you like it regardless! anyways, feel free to send asks!
word count: 2.3k+
18+ Content
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NSFW CONTENT
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
Bang Bang Bar
Ghost and you were laying in his bed, your leg draped over his, as you drew circles with your pointer finger on his bare chest.
"What're you thinkin' about?" He uttered, his voice sounding deep and grave. "Nothing." You quickly reply. He cocks his brow at your hasty reply and wraps his hands around your waist, and pulls you onto him, so you are straddling his torso.
"What's goin' on?" He asks softly.
You tug your bottom lip with your top teeth. "I was thinking.." You pause before continuing. "I don't want to do this anymore."
He tilts his head slightly. "Do what?"
"This." You gesture to both of your naked bodies. "Well..wait..not the sex part. I want to do that again." Ghost lets out a gruff laugh. "I mean, I don't want it to be casual." You declare in an earnest tone. "I want us to be a thing."
"We agreed on-" Ghost begins.
"I know what we agreed on." You breathe out. "I was just kind of hoping the sentients have changed?" Your curious eyes stare at him.
He lets out a breath before talking. "I told you. I don't date." Ghost says.
"I know, but don't all guys say that?" You remark.
"I'm serious. I don't."
"Even if-."
"No." He interrupts, his voice sounding rougher than usual. "I don't date." He continues. "This is all I can offer you."
You stare at him briefly before slowly scooting yourself off his torso and moving to get off the bed, grabbing your clothes that lay on the floor. "I understand that you don't want a relationship." You slide your jeans on. "But, I can't keep pretending that’s what I want too."
You reach for your shoes and begin putting them on. As you look up, Ghost's gaze meets yours. "What?" You question. He shakes his head and diverts his attention from you.
Once you slide your shoes on, you walk over to the door and say goodbye to Ghost and to that mess of a situation.
❀・。.。* ❀ *。.。·* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *。.
It had been about a week since you had essentially ended your "situation-thing" with Ghost. Not seeing him often felt weird, but you knew you couldn't keep pretending you didn't have genuine feelings for him.
You were in the break room, preparing a fresh cup of coffee.
"Jesus. You're the reason we never have any sugar." Gaz scrutinizes as he strolls over to you.
"Don't be mean, Gaz." You laugh as his eyes widen at the six empty sugar packets beside your cup.
"I'm being honest." His eyes continue to stare at the packets. "That is an insane amount of sugar."
"I've seen how much creamer you put in yours." You raise your brow. He throws his hands up. "You got me there." You smile and stir your coffee.
"Also, the guys and I are going to that bar downtown tonight. Would you want to come?" He questions as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above your head.
"The one with the stupid name?" You giggle as you take a sip of the hot liquid.
He rolls his eyes. "Hey, take that back. It is not stupid." He states, his face plastered with seriousness.
"For Godsake, it's called Bang Bang Bar." You cackle as you continue. "It sounds like a strip club, not a bar."
"Will you please just come? I hate going with Soap and Ghost alone." He grabs the coffee and fills up his mug. "Soap makes fun of me for my drink order, and Ghost makes no effort to stop him."
You pause your drinking, trying not to sound too intrigued. "Ghost is going?" Gaz walks over to the fridge and grabs the creamer. "Ya." You chew your lip, trying to ease your thoughts. "What about Price?" You try to change subjects. "No. Price said he had paperwork to do. I swear that man is a workaholic." You smile.
You were going to say no to his offer, but you decided you needed to get out of your head, even if it's just for a bit. "I suppose I can grace you boys with my presence." He chuckles as he pours his creamer.
"Don't be too flattered. I want to see you in that short black dress you wear." He jokes. You lightly hit his bicep causing him to spill some creamer. "Hey, You made me spill creamer." He dramatically whines.
"You didn't need it all anyways." You cheekily smile as you grab your mug and head towards the door, leaving Gaz to clean up the spilled creamer.
❀・。.。* ❀ *。.。·* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *。.
You felt the cold air brush your legs, lifting your dress slightly as you stepped outside of your car to head towards the bar. You walked down the paved sidewalk and eventually saw the flashy sign with the bar's name in the middle. You rolled your eyes as you pushed the door open.
The bar was more packed than usual, but after scanning the area for a minute, you spotted Gaz, flailing his arms at you. You stepped through a cluster of people and made your way to the guys, Ghost nowhere to be seen.
"Hey." Gaz and Soap say simultaneously as you sit next to Gaz in the booth. You can't explain why but you feel disappointed that Ghost isn't there. You shouldn't, but you do.
"What do you want to drink?" Soap questions, breaking your train of thought. "Uh..just a beer is fine. Thanks." You lightly smile.
After Soap grabs you a beer, you all make light conversation. Although, you mind still wonders where Ghost is. Your question is answered shortly as you see him enter through the front door and wander to your booth. Your eyes lock briefly before he directs his attention to Soap and Gaz.
"Glad you could make it." Gaz proclaims, and Soap pats Ghost on the shoulder. "Hey, Ghost." You mutter to Ghost. He looks over at you and nods to you.
The light conversation continues, mostly between Soap and Gaz. You are trying your best not to look at Ghost, and you sense he is doing the same. You feel awkwardness wash over you for the millionth time that week. "I'll be right back." You say as you stand up from the booth heading towards the bar.
You order yourself another drink, something to ease the nerves running through your veins. "Nice choice." You hear a male voice approach you. You look up to see an attractive man standing near you. "Mind if I sit?" You nod to him. "So, why is someone as pretty as you sitting by yourself?" You lightly laugh at his corny line. "I'm here with friends." You reach for your drink.
"Oh. Sad to hear that." He whispers. "Why's that?" You cock your head. "I suppose you can't leave your friends for too long. I would like to continue this." He smiles. "They can keep themselves company for a bit." You smile back, bringing your drink to your lips.
You chat with the mystery man for a little bit, after texting Gaz, telling him you were, in fact, not kidnapped and just chatting with a guy. During the conversation, you realize you both have things in common, and it doesn't hurt he's pretty nice to look at.
As you were talking, laughing, and shamelessly flirting with the man, he noticed a strand of your hair fall in front of your eyes. He gently raised his hand to brush the strand out of your face. Your face pinkens at his actions. "You are so beautiful." He whispers.
Although he was spewing such kind words, your attention drifts to your phone. A new message has popped up. It's from Ghost.
Ghost: Come outside.
"I'm sorry. Could you excuse me for a second?" You quickly ask. "Sure. I'll be here." You stand up from the bar and reach the front door, pushing it open.
You are immediately met with the cold air. You don't see him right when you step out, so you go around the corner to the little alleyway and see him leaning against the brick of the building, smoking. "What's going on?" You question as you prop yourself on the same wall.
He remains silent. His eyes wander down your body, taking in the tight dress that hugs your figure. "Ghost." He snaps his head up to meet your eyes.
"He's not your usual type." He mutters. You give him a confused expression. "What?" You say as your head tilts to the side. "That guy at the bar." He takes a puff of his cigarette. "He's not what you usually go for."
"Why do you care?" You accuse. "I don't." He insists. "Then why are you so interested in my boyfriend?" Ghost's head instantaneously lifts, his eyes narrowing. "Boyfriend?" You stare back at him. "No. I was just...I don't know why I said that." He releases a deep breath. "Thank Christ." He takes a final drag of the cigarette before throwing it on the ground.
Now, you are the one narrowing your eyes at him. "Why do you say that?" Your eyes widen. "Were you jealous?"
"No." He speedily says.
"I think you were."
"I was not jealous."
"Fine then. Since you have nothing important to talk about, I think I'll just go back-" He instantly grabs your waist and guides you onto the wall so his body is pressing against yours. Your breath hitches at his actions.
You both stand there in silence, your breathing becoming increasingly faster. "What are you doing?" You finally whisper.
He remains silent and positions his face closer to you so your lips are only mere inches away. He sees the heat flicker between your eyes and roughly presses his lips into yours as one of his hands comes to grasp your hair, which elicits a moan from you, causing him to groan.
His other hand slips to cup your ass, pressing your body closer to his so you feel his hardening cock. You pull back slightly, and his mouth instantly connects with your neck. "Tell me." You mumble through breaths. "Tell you what?" He mutters into your neck as he leaves sloppy, wet kisses on you. "Tell me you were jealous." You finally say.
"Of course, I was fucking jealous." He grits, as he drags his tongue across your jaw. "So, you only want me when someone else does?" You whisper. He quickly drops both of his hands and steps away. "Is that what you think?" You shift nervously. "What else am I supposed to think? I mean, you haven't talked to me in a week, and the one time you do is because I was with another guy."
"I thought.." He wipes his hand across his face. "I thought you deserved better than me. That's why I said no." He confesses. "You're fucking perfect. Too perfect for me." He whispers. "It killed me not to talk to you, but I just thought it would.." You step closer to him. "Thought it would what?" He looks up at you. "I thought it would force me to get over you."
"Did it work?" You murmur. "No." He says. "I could never get over you." Sincerity coated his voice. You step towards him and gently grab his hand. "Sorry, I'm just a fucking idiot." He pauses as he rubs the palm of your hand with his finger. "I understand if you don't want-" You catch him by surprise when you smash your lips onto his, your fingers thread through his light hair, slightly tugging on it.
"I'll forgive your idiocy.." You pant in between kisses. "If you make me come.."
"I've made you come five times in one night. This is no.."
"Out here."
His eyes slightly widen as he brings one of his hands to tug on your hair, causing a quiet moan to escape. "You minx." He replies.
In hindsight, this was quite a secluded alleyway, but it was still out in the open, meaning if anyone decided to turn the corner, they would see you both.
Ghost brings his hand, which isn't in your hair, to your breast, gently massaging and palming it, causing you to whine into his mouth. He slipped his other hand under your short dress so that he could graze your wet cunt through your underwear.
You rocked yourself on his fingers, seeking more friction. "More." You plead. "Ya?" He questions, his voice dripping with arousal. You nod your head quickly as he slips one finger under your panties. "Better.." He connects his lips with yours as he pushes a single finger into you. "Christ, you're so fuckin' tight.." He whispers into your mouth.
"I can't fit anymore." You moan as he begins sliding his middle finger into you.
"We'll make em' fit." He manages to fit the two fingers in you and begins pumping in and out of you. "Fuck, Ghost." You whimper, as he grazes your clit. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby.." He grunts out as his fingers move in and out, faster and faster.
You can feel yourself tightening, signaling your peak nearing. "Ghost...I...Fuck I'm so close." He drags his other hand up your dress so he can graze your bare nipple. "I can feel you tightening..." He slightly rolls your nipple in between his fingers. "Come." He commands.
That one motion causes you to climax. Your legs are shaking, and your pulse is racing. He holds you up by your waist until your orgasm subsides.
He cheekily smiles as he brings his fingers covered in your arousal to his mouth and sucks them clean. "Am I forgiven now?"
"I guess.." You continue. "Although I feel like it took you a little long to get me to come.." He chuckles. "Next time, I'll get three in you."
You laugh as you check your phone. "Fuck. The guys called me so many times. They must think something bad happened. We should probably leave." Ghost nods as you both walk down the alleyway.
"You think we should tell em'." Ghost chirps.
"Tell them what?" You question.
"That we're a thing now." He turns his head to face you as his lip curves slightly.
"Are we? Since when?” You cock your head.
"Since now." He grabs your hand and interlocks your fingers as you turn the corner out of the alleyway.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
taglist: @yuenity @fivenightsatnattys @callsign-artemis @minihotdog @theloneshadow24 @harpsinfinity @bleached-punk
also let's pretend mystery bar guy found a nice lady and they lived happily ever after in alaska or something.
#call of duty#cod#john soap mactavish#cod x reader#fanfic#simon riley#ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost fanfiction#simon riley call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley cod#bigboywiththeskullface#captain john price#captain price#simonriley#ghost simon riley#mw2 ghost#ghost x reader#send asks#my man my man my man#jealous ghost#jealous simon riley
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A page from TILT: SIX TALES by @kroovv!
Caleb is the enthusiastic owner of The Last Stop, a café for spirits passing through to the other side. But when a human finds his way to the café, the staff soon realise that this new customer might not be able to go home.
🐉 Available in print and PDF at quindriepress.com!
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I fell asleep with spotify on and woke up to sea shanties. And in that honor:
Roronoa Zoro loves to drink. Everyone knows this. His high alcohol tolerance means he can usually keep himself in a pleasantly fuzzy state.
Still, there are times where he gets properly drunk. Absolutely blackout sloshed. And this poses the question of what to do with him? How to care for him?
That is, until Sanji joins the crew. See, the rest of the strawhats may be new to this sailing business, but not Sanji. Sanji was raised by pirates on the sea. Rowdy, fun loving, drink loving pirates. And he knows exactly what to do with a drunken sailor.
Snhsiwbehei this is so stupid. Just a silly thing that crossed my mind.
-♡♡ lots of love
Anything for you, ♡♡ Anon. What shall we do with the drunken sailor, indeed? I saw your ask about still thinking on the lazy sleeping Zoro. Thought I'd add a little more lazy swordsman in there for you.
Until The World Stops Spinning
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 1,000+
Synopsis: You have just come off watch-shift, just as Sanji wanders onto the top deck of the Going Merry. Both of you discuss what to do about Zoro's current state of inebriation. What shall we do with the drunken swordsman...
Themes: Zoro x reader, subtle sanji x reader, drunkenness, smoking, drinking, sleeping, written with the sea shanty "What shall we do with the drunken sailor" in mind.
Notes: I listen to shanties all the time when I write. It's seriously such a vibe. This anon comes up with the best prompts, and I seriously can't. Edit to add: That version above by The Irish Rovers is what I used to dance to when I did Irish dancing as a child. One of the old tunes that made me want to play violin.
Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @writingmysanity
Gulls singing their sweet song of the morning lingered in the air, the perch of several flocking members sat proudly atop the top mast of the Going Merry. The chef serving beneath the Straw-Hat captain wandered on the deck to enjoy his morning cigarette after setting aside the morning crepe batter to rise. What greeted him in the morning light was a sorry sight to behold.
The puddle of drool pooling from the corner of the sword wielding first mate’s mouth was indication enough that he was past the point of no return in his drunken stupor. His snore rattled and shook the top deck, the wood almost cracking beneath the intensity of the roar falling from his parted lips.
Standing over the first mate, arms folded in twine, stood the Going Merry’s latest member: the ship's counselor.
“Mornin’ chef,” you utter without turning away from the snoring first mate. Sanji pouted with a deep frown while placing the filter of his cigarette between his lips.
“Good morning, counselor. Good watch shift?” Sanji uttered while striking his flint and lighting the end of his cigarette. You nod, both of you not tearing your eyes away from Zoro as the deep rise and fall of his chest indicated traces of life within his death-like slumber.
“Not a single thing to report, aside from this thing here, of course,” you uttered, gently tapping your toes against Zoro’s thigh as he slept soundly. Sanji inhaled a lengthy breath of his morning nicotine, exhaling down at the swordsman with a soft scowl on his face.
“How many'd he have?” Sanji asked tilting his head and examining Zoro as his shaky snore.
“Around five or six, I think,” you bob your head before further clarifying, “Bottles, not short rounds.” Sanji clicked his tongue at the confirmation, gently shaking his head.
You turn towards the blonde chef, furrowing your brows and looking at him inquisitively.
“Chef?” you quirked up at him, prompting him to turn towards you in response, “You've probably had the most experience with inebriated sea-folk. Any quick remedies you can think of for this?”
“I can think of a few cures from the tales of old,” Sanji chuckled, his smile turning more playful with each passing moment. “Shave his belly with a rusty razor comes to mind.” You scoff at him, rolling your eyes with a soft chuckle.
“Zoro's stomach is as smooth as a baby bird,” you laugh at him, “Not a hair to rid him of, rusty razor and all.” Sanji hummed, pressing his index finger to his chin and thinking further.
“Put him in the longboat ‘til he's sober is the next classic suggestion,” Sanji took a moment to take a lengthy drag with a deep chuckle, “Or: stick him in the scupper with a hosepipe bottom, is another.”
“The Going Merry has no long boat,” you shrug, looking down at the snoring former pirate hunter and lulling your head to the side, “And I don't think he'd very much enjoy a swift spanking on the meat of his ass with a rubber pipe, in his current state.”
Sanji laughed in a loud and unbridled laugh, placing the cigarette on the ground and dulling it's light with the ball of his foot.
“Put him in bed with the Captain's daughter, then?” Sanji chuckled in glee, softly nudging your shoulder with his, “That's the only other option in the tales and shanties.” You nudge him in return before nuzzling your head against his bicep.
“While stringing him upside down by his ankles on the topmast is awfully tempting,” you remove your head from Sanji's arm, “We're better off just moving him and putting him to bed to sleep it off, aren't we? Wanna give me a hand, handsome?”
“Not really,” Sanji shrugged with a soft chuckle before reaching down and grappling one of Zoro’s heavy legs, “But I will because you asked me so nicely.” You shake your head, reaching down and aiding Sanji in bearing the brunt of the swordsman’s weight to take him below deck where the others began to stir from their sleep.
As Nami got up from the only bed, Usopp and Luffy rising from the hammocks, you gently aided Sanji in placing Zoro beneath the plush duvet and atop the mattress still warm from Nani's body heat. Shaking her head, Nami fishes a bucket from the side of the room and places it by Zoro’s head.
Stirring briefly from his drunken stupor, Zoro’s blurred and swirling vision glared up at you all before his gaze softened into a lazy smile.
“I… I love you guys,” Zoro’s soft, drunken drawl lazily called to you all before turning to gaze at you, “Ya’ done with the nigh’ sh-shift, ‘Selor? Gonna snooze?”
You look over at the crew, gently giving Sanji's arm a squeeze before he turns to begin breakfast for the crew wandering atop the deck. He smiled in response, gently bobbing his chin up and wordlessly telling you to get some sleep.
“Yeah, swordsman. I'm gonna 'snooze',” you confirm with him, turning to the hammocks and beginning to choose from the three suspended bed-spaces. Before you were able to move away from Zoro’s bedside, his muscular arms shoot out and snake around your midsection, tugging you into a warm embrace beside him.
Nuzzling into your hair, he takes a lengthy inhale and groans in joy at the body heat radiating from you.
“S’ay w’th me?” he slurred in question, already beginning to fall into slumber with you tucked in his arms. “Only ‘til th’ room s’ops spinnin’?” Facing away from him, you shake your head with a light smile before moving the duvet up to cover the both of you.
“Sure, Zoro,” you already feel the weight of your eyelids weighing you down the longer you linger in his embrace, “Only until the room stops spinning.” Both falling asleep almost immediately, a soft shutter of a Den-Den image conductor could be heard mixing with the harmonious snores reverberating within crew quarters.
Nami was going to hold those images over the both of you as ransom for more of a cut from your joint haul on this upcoming adventure. You both slept soundly enough to not care, dreaming of what new horizons lay waiting for you.
#one piece#x reader#opla#opla fic#one piece live action#ask snail#snail answers#zoro x reader#x gn!reader#sanji x reader#nami#usopp#luffy#strawhat!reader#straw hat crew#one piece x reader#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro x reader#black leg sanji x reader#op zoro#op sanji
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project: i'm going insane suna rintarō.
sum. when a project brings together two students & possible crushes. ( no part two sry !! )
a quiet room with only the sweet melody of birds singing tales as the sun kisses your skin. ah, how sweet. it's such a blessing—being lost in paradise as you gaze upon the dancing flowers. truly a magicial scenery! oh, how divine. how divine it is indeed—
“students are to pair up with their deskmate for the project.”
right, you're still in class. reality is truly a pain. you really could've been listening to the sweet melody of birds but instead you got the sweet melody of hell (school).
you haven't turned to face your partner yet. you're not gonna face suna rintaro right now—especially not after he witnessed you graciously trip on nothing this morning.
“so are you gonna talk or are you gonna continue looking at me every five seconds from the side of your eye?” suna asked, tilting his head into his palm while he knocks his pen against the desk.
“i'd rather not honestly.”
“i don't care about your excellent fall this morning, y/n.”
that got it. that sentence awards itself as the sentence that made you whip your head to suna.
“don't spread lies. anyways, what're we gonna do for that project?”
raising his eyebrow, suna thinks. what are you guys going to do actually? he's sure that he'd forget about the whole project after three days.
“i dunno,” he shrugs, typing in random numbers into his calculator before continuing, “here, save my number we can talk more about it later.”
leaning into his side of the desk, you secretly pull your phone out from your bag, trying to save his contact as fast as you can before your homeroom teacher turns back facing the class.
“why the fuck did you save me as ‘some hoe’?!”
“mind your business.”
ಇ. AT HOME
it's 7 pm. you're just coming out of the shower, patting your face with a towel before reaching for your phone.
i should text suna, you think. double tapping your screen, you eyes widen slightly in surprise. it seems as though the other party had the same plans as you did.
snickering at the spammed messages, you opened his chat.
“what a fucking loser.” giggling at his text, you place your phone down going back to finishing your nightly routine.
ಇ. NEXT DAY
if there's one word to describe your mood right now it'll be annoyed. it's far too early for anything nor do you have the time and patience to talk with anyone at 06:45 am. releasing your earbuds from its jail, you put both on at max volume and try to continue your previous slumber.
“no way you're sleeping right now.” a soft voice speaks, the owner of the voice wraps his palm around your neck squeezing it a little.
you don't respond. you know what they say, don't respond to the devil!
oh but that doesn't stop suna. not at all! who is he if not your number one bully? suna knows your aware that he's next to you so how dare you ignore him! clicking his tongue, the boy pulls out one of your buds and places it in his ear before sitting down copying the exact way you're sitting.
suna looks at you. his eyes scanning through your features with a small smile. you're pretty, really. he notes every little feature on you mentally—noting how you always have two fringes/braids framing your face, noting how you actually fell asleep, noting how good your music taste is.
lemme save these songs too, suna thinks. he reaches over for your phone before dropping his hoodie on you. it's quite cold this morning and he'd rather not hear your ten-thousand complaints when you wake up from the nap.
──
“CAN YOU NOT WALK SO FAST?!”
“can't help that i'm an athlete.”
“NO ONE CARES! SLOW DOWN A LITTLE.”
it's 5:42 pm, the beams of the evening sky color the area in its glory. it'd be a beautiful scenery if two teenagers weren't bickering down the street.
a young boy, around six feet tall, walks with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a yogurt. behind him stands a young girl, around (your height), walks with anger as she playfully throws her school bag at the boy.
“keep hitting me and see if i won't throw you down the street.” the boy says, wiggling his finger at the girl as he warns her.
“are you trying to tussle and bussle?” the girl answers back, rolling her eyes at him.
“bussle... what is your vocabulary?” the boy questions, fighting back a smile. he finds her sentence amusing.
“don't question it. anyways, can we go to a café?”
“yeah, i'll grab some snacks for my sister too.”
and so, they set off (still bickering).
ಇ. MIDNIGHT
giggling at your convo, you smile hard before coming to realization.
“did i just fucking giggle at suna?!” questioning yourself out loud, you raise one eyebrow before switching off your phone. i'm going insane, you think.
laying down in a starfish position, you look up at the ceiling wondering about your feelings towards the one and only suna rintarō.
do you like him? yes.
is he annoying? yes.
do you like his company? yes.
do you wish to bash his head in with a rock sometimes? yes.
your romantic emotions clash with your platonic emotions which then clashes with your confusion and creates a whole new headache!
i don't have time for this.
meanwhile at suna's
“ayah, do you think i'm crazy?” suna asks. he's sitting at the end of his bed staring at a wall.
“yes!” the little girl answered, playing with her toys as she ignores her older brother's reaction.
ಇ. NEXT DAY
at the school's gym holds two teenagers that sit side by side, judging other students. one student named suna rintarō aggressively chews on his gum agreeing with the words being said as the other named y/n l/n continues to judge.
“y'know the girl in the right's cheating on her boyfriend?” you say, raising your eyebrows at you look at suna.
gasping, suna looks at you, “you're lying oh my god.”
“no i swear. like, if i was her boyfriend i'd just go home right now.” you replied, shrugging your shoulders as you reach for one of suna's gums.
“that's crazy but who are we to judge honestly.” suna says, popping his gum before standing up.
“i have practice until six today—” he stops before leaning down to your ground level, “don't miss me.” he continues, slightly smirking before pinching your cheek.
“hands OFF. and no, i won't miss you.” shoving his hand away, you stand up to walk out the gym with him (even though there's no reason to).
— at suna's.
suna walks into his home, greeting his family before dragging himself up to his room. he's whipped and absolutely battered. sometimes, he thinks he's not cut out for volleyball—well at least not with mr. perfect kita who does indeed follow a properly written routine.
i'm fucking beat, suna thinks. he plops onto his bed face down but immediately turns around. he thinks about the little interaction from earlier today; you guys were close. he's not really a teasing person but he doesn't know what possessed him to get that close—close to the point he could've moved five centimetres and your lips would meet.
you know that little cartoon effect where a red blush rushes from the character's neck to the head? yeah, that's suna right now. he's done and DUSTED.
“this cannot be real.” suna whispers, he thinks he's going insane. no way he can't stop thinking about you. no way. reaching over for his phone, suna looks at the screen before thinking, should i text her or nah.
he goes with the “nah” option and decides to take a nap. maybe he'll sort his feelings out after his nap.
#+ rizsu: haikyuu.#haikyuu x reader#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#haikyuu fluff#suna x you#suna fluff
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Sorry for the delay, but it's here now… Most of them are NC-17 and R rated, so read the tags.
One shots (1k-9k)
Incense by cielelyse (E, 6.6k)
“We wanted to know,” says Mimiko, “who between the two of you is the better fighter?”
(Or: Satoru tries to prove he's better at close combat, but Suguru has other plans.)
Curiosity Killed the Crush by xBarbarellax (E, 7.5k)
Today was the day. No more chickening out, no more waiting for him to make the first move, no.
Today, Hina was going to ask out Gojo Satoru.
all the world’s a stage by ruche
“I don’t deserve to love you,” Suguru offered. It was placid as a temple pond, at odds with all his feelings. His arms went limp at his sides. He smiled again, sweet and hollow. “Right?”
Satoru recovered well enough. Intensity seemed to evaporate off of him within a few stiff seconds. “They deserve this, I deserve that,” he said after a beat. “Who died and made you king of the universe? Talk about obnoxious.”
Suguru is horny and Satoru makes that Suguru’s problem.
closer to the bone by sanctify (E, 6k)
“How thoughtful of you.” Gojo eventually says as he rests the cuffs on his lap, skimming a finger along the black padding on the inside of one.
“I saw that you had added them to your wishlist.” Geto hums, tilting his head in his direction, the sharp amber of his eyes like spools of molten honey. “I hope it wasn’t too forward of me.”
This has Gojo burst out into a brief fit of laughter, the bright whites of his teeth showing as he leans forward to lay a hand on Geto’s chest, easy and playful and flirtatious.
“I invite you over so I can record you fucking my brains out and post it online, and you think you’re being forward?” Gojo laughs again, a soft pink coloring the curve of his cheeks this time, accentuated by the highlighter he wore.
Thought you were about to get some foreplay with me by SaintOfAthena (E, 5.7k)
See, Gojo Satoru has a problem: there is a frontier that his true feelings cannot breach. When they try to force it, it is only at the cost of their true nature that they are allowed to pass. Consequently, after a mental breakdown due to a pimple that leads to Geto taking care of him, he jumps on the chance to tell him how he feels but things don't go as smoothly as expected.
up the river, we can go slow by Eskarina (E, 5.8k)
Satoru looks ethereal this way—like nothing has ever touched him. Like Suguru couldn’t even touch him if he wanted to. He does want to, eventually; ask Satoru if he’s allowed to leave marks that won’t disappear within the blink of an eye. He doesn’t think they’re quite there yet.
Trials and tribulations of loving Satoru Gojo.
Woozy by Kiboutie (E, 2.5k)
“I have infinity, remember? No one can touch me,” Satoru repeats, before slowly reaching forward and tucking a stray strand of hair behind Suguru’s ear with a wistful sigh. “Unless I want them to.”
Alternatively,
The one where omega Gojo continues to spend his heat with Getou, even after they've parted ways.
Longer fics (9k+)
4AM by damiselart (E, 10.8k)
Suguru and Satoru's meet cute but it's horny instead.
His **** is What?! by owl_beans (E, 10.1K)
Gojo Satoru did not have a crush on Getou Suguru. They had never even spoken to each other. Satoru was just curious about what neat and polite Getou Suguru was like when he wasn't all buttoned up.
The answer was not at all what Satoru expected and even better than he had imagined.
To no one's surprise, they hit it off infuriatingly well.
in the eye of the dragonfly by backbones (E, 9.3k)
Suguru first heard about the Six Eyes when he was still a child. Like most children his age, it sounded like a legend, or a fairy tale out of a book—and when he was a teenager, it became more real.
Suguru was slated to be a sorcerer, but he still came from a modest clan inside the same village where the Six Eyes was born, and occasionally he would hear little truths: he was a boy of sixteen (like Suguru), he had eyes like the sky (unlike Suguru), or he will be the strongest sorcerer alive (not if Suguru had a say).
But— He’s a boy, Suguru thought. He’s a boy.
(In which the Gojo clan arranges a marriage between Satoru and Suguru.)
lovesick lullabye by pastelcoloureddreams (E, 18k)
"Satoru, you can't pretend like there's nothing more to us," Suguru appeals, grabbing the crook of Satoru's elbow. That certainly makes Satoru freeze but his eyes remain hard, an impenetrable fortress to the soft and vulnerable boy he knows still lives inside Satoru. "I still love you."
"Love? Is that why you left me?"
Slow Hands by megumiblues (E, 12.3k)
Satoru is in desperate need of a massage, so who better to ask than famous masseuse Suguru, who just so happens to be the best friend he’s been in love with for over ten years now?
The Traveller's Song by No_Ir (E, 23.3k)
When it comes, the death of summer is vapid and quiet. It tastes like stale water and smells like memories gone bad in the heat. Nothing mourns it and the air is speckled with bits of seawater that cling to the dampness on the back of his neck.
Crickets chirp throughout the night and the bed is too warm to sleep in, so he buries his face into pillows that smell like dust and salt and ignores the stabbing behind his eyes till he can feel the irritating warmth of another day on his back.
I miss the sea, he thinks, staring at the familiar outline of the window, palm resting on the friend-shaped dent on his bed. Exhaustion drapes itself over his shoulders and sweat beads like pearls at the roots of his hair.
I miss the sea like I miss my friend.
The Future of a Broken Past by dazylein (34.5k, ongoing)
Temporary amnesia due to severe trauma. It’s all the doctor can tell Satoru when he wakes up bloodied and bruised with no ID on him and no fingerprints matching any record. Plagued with the idea that his life must have been meaningless if no one is even looking for him, Satoru finds himself in front of a buddhist temple that proves him otherwise. As the haze around his memories clears, the guesses of who did this to him and why turn muddier and muddier.
#geto suguru#gojo satoru#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu geto#jujutsu gojo#sugusato#satosugu#satoru gojo#suguru geto#goge#gego#gojo x geto#geto x gojo#satosugu smut#fic recs#stsg fic recs#stsg recs#stsg#sgst#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk geto#jjk gojo#jjk smut#smut#smut recs#fanfic rec#五夏#夏五#fic rec
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can u do a Macaque x F!Reader where they're watching the moonrise..
Macaque Watching the Moonrise With S/O
(Not proofread as it is very late and i want to get to sleep -w-)
A knock on your window interrupted your wandering thoughts as you stared at the ceiling fan of your bedroom.
You sat up to see your boyfriend Macaque standing on your apartment balcony, grinning at you as he continued to knock on the thick glass.
Smiling as you rolled your eyes at him, you got up out of bed and slid the doors open to greet him.
“I heard you the first time Macaque.” You laughed softly as he greeted you with a small peck on the lips.
“Just wanted to make sure sweet cheeks, don’t want you falling asleep just yet.”
You tilted your head at his words, you didn’t have anything planned tonight with anybody, especially him.
“Before you say anything, no you didn’t forget we had a date. This is merely me surprising you.” He smirked as he winked down at you, his tail softly swaying behind you as he grabbed you gently by your wrist and one of the thin blankets on your bed in the other hand.
Suddenly, you fell through the floor through the shadows. A yelp was caught in your throat as you felt the pool of violet consume you, the freezing air hitting your skin as you traveled through the darkness.
You suddenly rose from the shadows onto the floor of your apartment’s rooftop, a shudder running through your body as you were met with the cool fall breeze.
You were never gonna get used to that.
“You okay sugarplum?” The demon looked at you with a slightly worried expression as you smiled and nodded, Macaque always asked if you were okay after you used the shadows to reach your destination.
He gently held your hands as you both sat down on the cold concrete of the roof, “Good, good.”
He noticed your shivering form. “Oh, here, this’ll warm you up.”
He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, letting you snuggle into the fluffy material.
He chuckled softly as you enveloped yourself, raising an eyebrow at you as he let his thought slip past his lips “Cute.”
His face flushed red, did he just say that out loud…?
“I am cute aren’t I?” You stuck your tongue out at him, deciding to play along with his accidental flirt.
“Yeah yeah, Miss Humble. You’re cute alright.” He said the first part in a sarcastic tone, rubbing his nose against yours.
As he slowly pulled away from you, you held the blanket out to him, offering the space next to you.
“I don’t want you being cold either, I’m like a heater right now.” A smile spread across your face as he chuckled once more, his fur was keeping him far beyond warm but he sure as hell used this as an excuse to cuddle up next to you.
He shifted closer to you as you wrapped the blanket around the both of you, letting out a laugh as he felt your scorching body heat.
“Jeez, you weren’t joking about the heater thing sugarplum…”
You laughed back as you rested your head on his shoulder, his head rested on top of yours.
You stayed like this for a few long minutes as he pressed loving but gentle kisses on your head, his arm loosely wrapped around you as the sun started to set.
You realized he hadn’t actually told you what you were doing up here, finally asking him the long-awaited question.
“Oh, I just wanted to watch the moonrise together. It’s a full moon tonight and I figured that would be a romantic thing, right?”
You smiled once more as you nodded against his shoulder, your soft comfortable breaths were music to his six ears.
He loved how you could be so comfortable around him, that was a sure-tale sign you trusted him, and that meant the world to him.
His tail wrapped around your waist as his arm rested atop your shoulder, never wanting to let go of your pretty figure for the rest of time.
You two were just waiting for the moon to come out as you talked about random things that came across your minds, ranging from things that happened at your work or what MK and his friends were up to this week.
“He ended up being a whole three hours late with my order, and when he gave it to me it ended up being the wrong order…” You sighed as you thought about the recent experience with Pigsy’s Noodles.
“Eh, doesn’t surprise me. I’ve heard worse stories from the kid himself. You honestly got lucky hon.” The simian chuckled thinking of the monkey king’s successor and all the horror stories of his past deliveries he happened to hear.
Your conversation was interrupted as the ivory glow of the moonlight lit up the tops of the buildings in Megapolis, the lunar glow eventually hitting the both of you as it glowed against your skin.
The stars danced around the massive rock as they were set up in sporadic patterns, although this wasn't your first time watching the moonrise it certainly was the most special.
Macaque, however unlike you, wasn’t looking up at the sky at all. He saw skies like this thousands of times throughout his long years of life.
His golden orbs were fixated on you the whole time, the way your eyes practically lit up when you stared up at the night sky.
The quiver of your lip as you took in the beauty before you, however to him you were the only beauty before him.
You noticed he was staring at you this whole time, making you smile and laugh softly.
“What is it?”
He chuckled back once more as he kissed you on your lips, gently pulling away as he smirked “Just admiring the view.”
#ask#lmk#lego monkie kid#lmk x reader#lego monkie kid x reader#lmk macaque#lego monkie kid macaque#macaque#lmk six eared macaque#lego monkie kid six eared macaque#six eared macaque#lmk macaque x reader#lego monkie kid macaque x reader#macaque x reader#lmk six eared macaque x reader#lego monkie kid six eared macaque x reader#six eared macaque x reader
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Artist spotlight: Cara Gaffney
My creator spotlight for the Tilt: Six Tales kickstarter is now up!
This interview with @quindriepress gave me the chance to talk about a bunch of things that interest me: science fiction, digital immortality, platonic relationships, and the satisfaction of digging into the gaps between stories:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/quindriepress/tilt-six-tales/posts/3600039
In case you’ve missed it, Tilt: Six Tales is the 150-page anthology that my newest story, ‘In Lilac and Silver’, is going to be part of. We’ve got two weeks left on the campaign and have just passed 50% funded - please consider backing the campaign to get your hands on this fantastic collection!
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
✧.* CHAPTER 51 || The Resolve
[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst if you squint, & heart-tingling fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.5k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
——THE TRUTH, CHOSO deserves to know the truth. After all he’s told you about himself the very least you could do is give him that. He’s earned it hasn’t he?
“Six,” You murmur honestly, your heart rate spiking as the word leaves your lips.
He repeats it as if he didn’t hear you, “Six?”
“Mhm, I’ve slept with six other guys since meeting you,” You explain in full, facing forward and avoiding looking at him.
Choso’s eyes are all over the side of your face and he takes a second, processing what you just said. “A-And that includes Geto… Sukuna, and the other guy you have feelings for, right?”
You nod and things get quiet for a second. The only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart. He hates you, doesn’t he? He thinks you’re disgusting and is seconds away from kicking you out of his car right?
You should’ve told him earlier, maybe he could’ve helped you. It’s too late now though, the silence told you everything. You basically just told him you’re a wh-
The sound of Choso letting out a relieved sigh is heard, “Thank god.” He mutters, earning the turn of your head.
“T-Thank god?” You whisper, “You’re not… You don’t… Choso, I-“
“I mean, in total, six isn’t terrible is it?” He hums casually, meeting your widened eyes, “If three I already knew about, what’s three more?” He says with a shrug.
You blink, “Choso… You can’t be serious right now?”
He tilts his head innocently, “Why not? I mean we’ve known each other since when, like, September? It’s February now, baby. If you break it down, honestly, aside from me that’s one guy a month, no?”
The way he just responded as if it’s literally nothing makes you feel like a fool for worrying so much, “You’re serious…”
“Plus, we weren’t dating so,” He shrugs.
You sigh, “D-Do you want to know who-“
“Nope, absolutely not.” Choso cuts off, shaking his head instantly.
A slight chuckle leaves you due to his reaction, “Why not?”
“I don’t need any more images in my head.” He hums, “I know who two of those six are so, that’s enough info’.”
“Right…” You murmur, nodding slightly. That went entirely different than you were expecting, “Well uh, your next question, then?”
“That was the main one I think,” Choso sighs, “I can’t imagine there’s anything else I should know that could possibly change the trajectory of our… uhm, situationship?”
“You…” You blink, “You don’t want to know who the other guy I have feelings for is?”
A brow is risen and Choso doesn’t quite understand your offer, “Does it matter who he is?”
“I don’t know…” Your shoulders raise a little.
“I mean,” Choso moves his head and glances away in thought, “I can’t imagine it being someone I know since I only know a handful of people.”
“Uh, can I ask something then?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Does the name…” You pause wondering if you should really ask your question but after a second or two, you get it out, “Does the name Gojo Satoru mean anything to you?”
“Gojo?” Choso echoes, giving you a skeptical look as he smiles a bit, “Gojo Satoru? Uh, didn’t Geto mention him earlier?”
You swallow, “Mhm…”
“Does the name mean anything to me? I dunno, I mean, I know him but-, wait…” His eyes narrow at you, “Baby…”
“Y-Yes?” You squeak out nervously.
Choso tilts his head a little, “Is he…?”
“Is he what?”
He pauses, then he swallows and meets your eyes with an intense gaze, “Do I wanna know?”
“Wanna know what?” You ask for clarification.
“Do I wanna know if that’s my competition?” Choso explains simply.
You’re still not used to such easy and quick answers to your questions, “I d-don’t know, do you?”
He stares for a minute before shaking his head, “Never mind then, I already told you, I don’t care who it is.”
“But-“
“What would knowing who it is change?”
Well, it’d give you an opening to explain the list… But then again, do you want to explain the list?
“Baby,” Choso sighs, “What I don’t know won’t hurt me, right?”
“It might…” You mumble.
His brows furrow, “How?”
That’s a damn good question. If you tell Choso that Gojo’s his competition then proceed to explain how you only slept with all those guys, including Choso himself, because of a list you were blackmailed into completing— how would he react?
No, really think about it. One, Choso might feel like a tool. Even though you know you talked to him that day in the hall because you were genuinely interested in him, he might never feel that way. To any sane human, that interaction will feel set up.
And two, somewhere deep down, you still want to protect Gojo. Why? Because you know there’s more to this blackmailing situation and you can’t tear down his character anymore without knowing the truth, that’s just not in your nature. And hey, you may regret this later when you do learn the truth but, it’s the thought that counts, right?
A man who’s obsessed with you and loves you like Gojo does wouldn’t blackmail you without good reason-
Okay, wait, what good reason is there to blackmail someone? And… What if boredom wasn’t the reason like he said it was… What if this was all done just so that Gojo could somehow trick you into running back to him?
Think about it. He claims the list was done out of boredom but later down the line tells you he loves you. What if he knew Choso hates liars, knew you’d tell Choso the truth after so long, and assumed you and Choso would part, thus leaving you to run back to him?
What if this is some kinda sick game and when the credits roll, the winning option is revealed to be Gojo Satoru? What if-
Choso says your name, “Are you okay?”
“H-Huh?” You breathe out, not knowing the facial expression you hold.
Your eyes were all wide and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.
“What’s wrong?” Choso asks carefully.
You shake your head and snap out of your mind, “Nothing, sorry.”
“After all I’ve told you, you still chose to lie to me?” He teases.
Your heart jumps a bit, “I-I didn’t mean to lie, I just, uhm… W-Well-“
He snorts and you freeze. When you look at Choso you see the way he’s smiling at you for the first time in a while. As quickly as your eyes meet, he turns away and brings his hand over his mouth.
“You… You were messing with me, weren’t you?” You question, narrowing your eyes at the man.
Choso lets out a chuckle, “Kinda. M’sorry, you just got all nervous and it was cute.”
“Well I thought I fucked up again Choso, that’s not funny,” You tell him, frowning.
He laughs, the sound more genuine than ever and making your heart simmer into a state of relaxation. A pout takes over your expression and you couldn’t believe that after all this he still found a way to tease you.
Playfully, you reach over and hit his arm, “Quit laughing, you scared me.”
Choso’s eyes get dramatically wide and he winces, bringing a hand to where you just hit him and sending you a look, “Oh wow, and after I tell you I was abused, you decide to hit me…” He points out, again making your heart sink.
You swallow hard and get nervous all over again, “Shit, s-sorry…”
Choso stares at you for a second and it’s slow how his smile returns, the sight making you realize he was messing with you again.
This time you frown and turn away from him, “Oh my god, stop doing that, we’re supposed to be serious right now.”
He starts snickering, “Baby, c’mon you know that was a little funny.”
“It wasn’t,” You utter seriously, staring out your window and watching water slide down the glass.
The sound of him scoffing is heard before he moves and a hand is placed on your arm. You turn and look down at his fingers wrapping around your arm and watch how he tries to tug at your arms to get you to unfold them.
“I’m sorry, princess,” Choso hums, “C’mere, I was jus’ teasin’ you.”
You pull away from him, “Making jokes about your childhood trauma isn’t funny, Cho.”
“I laughed,” He says, shrugging.
You roll your eyes at him, “Well I didn’t.”
“Yeah and that’s the problem,” He argues back, “I can joke about my trauma. It’s my trauma.”
You sigh, “But-“
“Baby.” He cuts off, tipping his head to the side.
“What?”
Choso’s eyes grow pleading, “Look at me please?”
With a huff, you steadily lift your gaze to his, “Okay, now what?”
“Come here,” He says.
Your brows furrow and you blink, “What do you mean come here?”
“Climb over to me, I wanna hug you.”
You stare at him, “Choso I’m not climbing over-“
“Then I’ll go out in the rain, walk over to your side, and drag you out of that seat.” He says while finally pulling your arms loose. Then, Choso reaches down and unbuckles your seatbelt, “Either you come over here or I come over there.”
You sigh and look at his area, “Choso, there’s not even enough space for me to-“
He moves back into his seat and immediately adjusts his chair to go back as far as it can, providing you more than enough space to be able to sit on the floor and in between his legs if you wanted to.
“I dunno’ why you’re acting like you haven’t done this before,” Choso scoffs, “C’mon, bring your ass over here,” He orders, patting his thigh, “I’m not gonna ask you again.”
You sigh heavily and start moving, shifting your knees into the seat and then carefully climb over the center console and to Choso’s side. His hand goes to your waist to support you as you move and you soon find yourself sliding into his lap.
Choso’s car was rather spacious so it’s not like it was difficult for you to end up in this position with him, hell, you’ve been here plenty of times before.
Once seated comfortably, Choso settles his hands on your waist, holding you lightly as his head tips up to you, “Hi princess.”
You try not to smile at him, “Hi Cho.”
“Hug me,” He directs.
You pout, “You could at least say please…”
“If I was asking, I would’ve. But,” He tilts his head at you, “I wasn’t asking you, I’m telling you.”
You simply stare into those brown eyes of his for a moment, noticing the dullness from earlier has lifted and his pupils are dilated. After which, you begin to lean in slowly and Choso grows impatient, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to him.
The smile you tried to bite back breaks free onto your face as you move to drape your arms around his neck, burying your face into him and feeling as he squeezes onto you.
Choso lets out a sigh and you feel his entire body relax underneath you as he rests his head back and shuts his eyes, “Now, can we stay like this for a while?”
The crook of his neck smells so good and you were just melting into his hold, “Mhm.”
The two of you nearly molded into one another’s bodies after all the stress that’d been endured. This was so surreal to you— to go from arguing and worrying you may have ruined everything to hugging that same person without being confused in the slightest, god it lifted this weight off your chest.
And as said weight was lifted, another weight took place on your heart. This weight was strong, suffocating even. What did this weight symbolize? Was it trust? Peace? Or… was it love?
Did such a simple yet emotionally present conversation become the breaking point for you? Was this all you needed to acknowledge your feelings? When you realized you felt something for Gojo, it was that time in his car when music was playing and he just looked so damn perfect.
But… With Choso it was different. The physical sensation of falling in love with someone is different for every person. In this case, it’s like the heat emanating from his previously wet and cold body was wrapping around you and smothering you with comfort.
Breathing in his cologne brought nothing but the brightest memories to the forefront of your mind. Choso consumed you with nothing more than a simple hug and he had no idea.
He was completely unaware of how his embrace and faint but gentle thumb swirling over your back made you never want to leave this very moment. Choso didn’t know that you were currently recalling your first phone call with him, remembering how he’d put a smile on your face after Gojo had stripped it from you.
And he’s always been that for you, hasn’t he? In a world where Gojo puts you in a dark room, leaving you frightened, confused, and nervous, Choso is to you the same light he claims you are to him.
Forget Gojo’s claims that you and him are the same. No, you’ve found the person in whom your similarities lay in and that person is none other than Choso Kamo, a man whose only fault with you was falling for you.
And even then, you don’t blame him for doing so because you did too. Your heart is simply swelling right now and you unconsciously started clinging onto his body tighter.
The way, “Choso,” Slips past your lips before you even realize is simply tantalizing to the man beneath you.
He feels as your breath hits the skin of his neck, your warmth giving him chills and making him swallow, “Yes, princess?” He replies.
“I’m sorry,” You apologize sincerely.
He sighs, “Told’ you to stop doing that.” Choso reminds you. Then, his hand slips to caress along your spine, “But, what are you sorry for, baby?”
You weren’t sure just yet. Everything? Nothing? Why is it that you have to apologize for a situation that was never your fault to begin with?
“Earlier,” You come up with, “I think I uh… I should’ve handled things differently.”
He nods a little, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling of your breath against his skin, “Oh, thank you for that. I’m sorry too.”
“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong,” You hum, smiling a little.
“Called’ you dense,” Choso recalls and you feel how his body shifts a little, “Yelled at you, caused a scene, y’know, the list kinda’ goes on, babe.”
“Choso, it-,” You pause for a second. Then, you start moving, your hands slipping down to his chest as you push yourself up to sit on his lap comfortably instead of laying on him, “What?”
He raises a brow, “Hm? What? Did I say something wrong?”
“You called me babe.” You point out, grinning.
He chuckles, “It’s no different from baby is it?”
“It is.” You say.
Choso nods, noting that in his head before asking, “Which do you like more?”
“Doesn’t matter, I like anything you call me,” You tell him, smiling a little.
Choso nods slowly and bites back the mischievous smirk that threatened to show, “Anything?”
“Mhm,” You hum with a slight shrug.
“I’ll…” His words fade for a second and he’s so deep in his head as he processes what you just told him, “Yeahh, I’ll keep that in mind.”
You tip your head to the side, “Why’d you say it like that?”
“No reason, princess, ignore me,” Choso dismisses, “Anyways, I was serious about my apology.”
You sigh and move your hand to caress the side of his face, “Right, well, I forgive you, Cho.”
“You’re supposed to say I didn’t do anything wrong,” He jokes, leaning into your touch and pushing his lower lip out to pout.
A scoff leaves you and you slip your fingers down to his jaw before grabbing ahold of his chin, “Mmmh… You yelled at me, I didn’t like that.”
“Your face said otherwise.” Choso points out, glancing off to the side.
“Hm?” Your brows knit together.
“For a second I thought you were turned on,” He says, so clearly joking with you.
You snort, “If I was turned on, it’s not because you were yelling at me.”
“Yeah?” The way the corner of his lips quips up into a sly smirk makes you shift in his lap a little, “Then what was it, baby? I knew there was somethin’.”
“When you were arguing with Suguru,” You recall simply, sliding your thumb up to trace Choso’s lower lip, “I don’t know why but I thought it was hot.”
He raises a brow, “Oh yeah?”
You just barely meet Choso’s eyes and you could feel yourself folding. Good god, why is this man so damn sexy?
“Mhm.” You hum timidly.
He pushes his lips out a little and kisses the tip of your thumb, “Words baby.”
“Yeah,” You utter, your voice almost breathy.
“Atta’ girl,” Choso praises and you swear you should not be getting turned on right now. “Anywho, before you get yourself too worked up, I did want to ask you something else.”
You shake away your incoming horny thoughts and return to seriousness, “Okay… What is it?”
His gaze drops down to your torso and his eyes narrow, “Well, I wanted to ask about you and uh… You and Sukuna.”
For some reason, unlike earlier you’re not as nervous, “Okay…”
Choso’s index finger and his thumb are toying with the fabric of your top as the rest of his fingers rest on your hips, “Did you… Did you enjoy your time with him?” He asks carefully.
Your heart jumps, “Uh, I-“
“You promised to answer honestly,” Choso reminds you, lifting his gaze to yours once more, “I won't ask anything I don’t want the answer to.”
“Alright, well,” You look off to the side, “He was sweet to me after we…”
“After you had sex?” Choso fills in.
You nod, “Mhm. He was surprisingly good with aftercare. A-And I think… I think because of that, yes, I did enjoy my time with him.”
He gazes at you for a while without saying anything and you continue to keep your eyes elsewhere. Choso thinks back and he genuinely doesn’t remember Sukuna being like that. Before his last known girlfriend, after he’d have sex with whichever girl he was with, he’d kick most of them out.
But, there were a few he was different with. Those few Choso got to meet. The most memorable was the last known one, the same one Sukuna knocked out. Choso remembers her to be rather rude to him, calling him gross or disturbing whenever she and him crossed paths but, he recalls the woman having Sukuna wrapped around her finger.
Of course, due to Choso’s experience with Sukuna, he didn’t care to point this out to his older brother— if that woman was playing him, he deserved it.
Even so, it makes Choso wonder what about you made Sukuna treat you so nicely. Hell, it actually worried Choso because since the two attend the same university, Choso knows what it’s like to have his love interest taken from him by his older brother.
“More than…” Choso’s voice is soft, scared even, “More than with me?” He blurts out without thinking.
Your eyes snap onto his and your brows furrow, face shifting into something bothered, “What? Hell no.”
Choso releases a shaky breath and nods, “Oh, okay good.”
You tilt your head, “Choso are you worried I may feel something for him?”
“N-No, I know you said you don’t and I believe you.” Choso stammers, “I-It’s just-“
“He’s repulsive,” You snap, “After everything you’ve told me about him, I could never see that man in the same light.”
“Oh.” He chirps.
“Now, it does confuse me why I experienced something different but,” You shrug, “I don’t care to find out.”
Choso’s eyebrows raise and he stops toying with your shirt, “Really? Why’s that?”
“Because I’m not interested in him.” You say.
Choso smiles a little, “Good…” All his worry fades and he returns to his playfulness, “So uh, who are you interested in, then?”
“You, obviously.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes.
“Is it obvious?” Choso questions.
You frown, “I thought so…”
“Mmmh, I dunno’ baby…” He starts looking away with a skeptical expression.
“I’ve said it before but, I do want you Choso.” You remind the man.
His eyes shoot back over to yours, “Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Have me, then,” Choso says eagerly.
What surprises him the most is your response to that this time around, “Can I?” You ask.
He bats his eyelashes at you, “O-Of course.” The words pour out of his mouth and his heart skips a beat.
“You sure?” You question teasingly with an innocent tilt of your head.
“Fuckin’ positive,” Choso breathes, smiling, “Have all of me, princess.”
He’s so clearly happy about this and that makes you just as happy, “Okay…”
“Okay?” There’s a hint of need in his voice, “What does that mean?”
You give a sheepish shrug, “I don’t know…”
“Baby I can’t do I don’t know.”
“Okay then,” You slide your hands down and rest them on his chest, “Let’s make it official, Choso.”
“M-Make us official?” He asks for clarification.
“Mhm.” You hum.
“So,” He can hardly process what’s happening, the entire conversation feeling like a dream, “You wanna be my girlfriend?”
A pretty smile spreads across your face, “Yes, Choso.”
“Okay,” He whispers, nodding, “O-Okay, I can work with that.”
“Work with that?” Your brows knit, “Cho, what're you talking about-“
“Let’s go on a date,” He offers, “Wait-, no. Can I take you out on a date?”
You blink, “We’ve been on dates already-“
“A real one.” Choso urges. Oh he’s been planning this for months now, hasn’t he?
You’re smiling from ear to ear, “A real date?”
“Yes.” Choso says, “We both dress up all nice, go out to eat or somethin’, y’know, do this properly.”
“Okay.” You murmur.
His hands slide up to your waist and he squeezes a little, “Yes or no baby?”
“Yes,” You start smiling and your heart has never felt this full before, “Yes you can take me out on a date.”
“Thank you,” He sighs, suddenly tugging your body closer to his, “This way I’ll never have a reason to feel insecure.”
Your arms go up and back around his neck, “Yeah?” You whisper.
Choso’s voice lowers and his gaze is so intimate with you, “Mhm, I think that’ll solve every problem we’ve had so far.”
You nod, “I think so too.”
Both of your faces near one another and you’ve never in your life felt more content with a person before. Is this what you’ve been craving for months? Is this freedom? Peace? Bliss?
To have such a tough conversation with your heart spiking multiple times, and feeling worried about certain reactions, all to result in feeling more comfortable in a person is something you never expected. Do you deserve this? Such happiness?
Well, why wouldn’t you? What have you done to yourself to not deserve the man looking at you so lovingly right now?
Did you forget?
The list is over. You’re free to experience this without worrying about hurting anyone. You are finally allowed to love with all your heart instead of only half.
Gojo was right about one thing, he could never give you things Choso can because, at the end of the day, Choso will explain everything to you because he knows what it’s like to be confused and hurt. Choso understands you, he actually loves you.
As for that stupidly beautiful white-haired man? You’re not sure what to think of him anymore but, you think you’re done thinking about him.
Sure, you still have a journal to burn with him but, can’t you indulge yourself in the joy that is loving someone wholeheartedly? Is that not what you deserve after everything you’ve been through?
Your head tilts as your gaze sinks to Choso’s lips. Does this man even realize how wonderful he is to you? Does he know that he’s your savior? Is he aware of how much you adore him? How thankful you are to him?
“Choso,” You utter so carefully, your face nearing his.
“Yes?” He replies, his eyes dropping to your lips as they near him.
“Thank you,” You suddenly say.
He smiles a little, “For what?”
“Everything,” Your answer is vague at first but you’re quick to explain a bit more, “For loving me the way you do, being so open to me, telling me everything even though it was hard for you…”
“Baby that’s not something you have to thank me for,” He hums, letting out an amused scoff, “That’s the bare minimum of what I should be doing for you.”
Something sheer glosses over your eyes but you ignore it, smiling at his words, “But still,” Your voice is light and tainted with emotion, “Thank you for waiting for me.”
“If my reward for waiting is you,” He smiles, “I told you, I’d wait lifetimes.”
“Choso,” You breathe out, holding onto him so very tightly before the words slide out of your mouth, “I love you.”
His chest is against yours so you can feel the way his heart throbs. His breathing picks up in an instant, hitching for only a moment as your words caress his ears so beautifully.
“Y-You…” Choso’s at a loss for words. He’s dreaming, right? “You what?” He asks, his voice shaky as his eyes land on yours.
The sight of joyful and overwhelmed tears in your eyes lets him know just how real this is. Then, you lean in and just barely press your lips into his before repeating yourself, “I love you, Choso.”
Those arms around your waist squeeze you tighter and you don’t miss the way he trembles a bit, his own eyes glossing over, “I love you too, princess.”
Another sweet, soft, and lightweight kiss is shared between you two but as you pull away and your eyes meet all over again, Choso sees the way your pupils have expanded. He wonders how long they’ve been that way, having only seen it at such a size once before.
His brows tense and Choso pulls you to him again, muttering the words into your mouth, “I love you so much.”
You smile briefly against the connection before mumbling right back, “I love you too Cho.”
Everything you could’ve ever asked for was within your grasp now. Peace, freedom, happiness, certainty, hope, love— all of which was felt in the midst of you and Choso kissing so passionately.
This right here… This is what one would describe as a healthy relationship.
Arguments and drama occur but the end result should always be this; peace and understanding.
That’s what he is to you. Choso is your peace, your understanding, and the man you love all in one.
You’ve finally ended the war in your heart. Should someone ever ask you who ended that battle, who healed the plague on you, your answer would remain forever;
Choso Kamo.
GOJO SATORU ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙
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tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
#the f*ck list#the fuck list#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#naoya x reader#geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo x reader#smut fic#jjk smut#gojo smut#geto smut#choso smut#toji smut
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KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Eight
( Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader x Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia )
SEX POLLEN/FUCK OR DIE / CHASTITY / SEXUAL COMPETITION
Summary: Coming home from work, all you want to do is collapse on the sofa with Frankie and snuggle but a mystery package makes your evening a little more interesting.
Day Eight of @absurdthirst's fabulous Kinktober prompt list!
Warnings: Mentions of food and drink, sex powder/pollen, arguing, Santiago and Frankie being dom if you squint, biting, oral - female receiving/male receiving, fingering, squirting, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), rough sex, choking, three-way, MMF, spit roasting, Santiago gets a little soft, no use of Y/N
(If I miss anything, please say and I’ll adjust)
Word Count: 4.5k
Notes: I originally planned to write a Leash and Collar story with Santiago on Day Six but never got the chance, that storyline however is alluded to here. Maybe I’ll write it someday.
You were ready to go home and collapse on the sofa after a long day at work. It was Friday night so Frankie would have order some form of take out, the fire would be on to take the edge off the chillier evenings and he probably would have stashed some snacks away from his daughter. All signs would point to a good night in, though your interest peaked when you opened the door to see Santiago also sitting at the kitchen table.
“Hey.”
“Oh, hey, Santiago.”
Francisco was hidden behind the fridge door, “Drink?”
“Please.”
You pull off your coat and step further in, your cold nose immediately being alleviated by the warm orange glow filling the room.
“Your pizza’s getting cold.”
You scramble to get your shoes off, hurrying to make your way to the kitchen table, a cardboard box still steaming. Frankie always ordered your favourite, he knew each variation of your takeaway orders from the Chinese down the block to this, the pizza place just on the edge of town.
Sitting down, you open it up and sigh as the cheese stretches apart.
He places a beer in front of you.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How’ve you been, Santi?”
He snorts, “See, Fish, that’s how you welcome a guest.”
Frankie rolled his eyes, “Hey, I’m used to you coming and asking for a favour, hermano.”
“I’ve been fine, honey, just making sure my favourite pairing were ok.”
Actually, he was seeing if Frankie still had the hump about getting you a collar, everyone in the kink scene knows what a collar means and Santiago doesn’t necessarily own you. He’s put Francisco through too much shit to do something like it again.
You glance to Frankie, “It’s all been good.”
“You didn’t tell her how pissed you were, did you?”
“Of course, not. We’ve settled this, quit talking about it.”
You never questioned what they spoke about in their native language, it was clear they didn’t want you to know, it was also apparent that Frankie was annoyed and Santiago was fucking lapping it up, a smirk on his face.
“Now, now boys.”
You chew your food with a smile and the atmosphere calms.
They continue to ask about your day and all the usual tales about an ordinary suburban life before you can’t bring yourself to take another bite. As you tidy everything away, plating up a couple of slices for tomorrow, you catch an unopened parcel addressed to Francisco on the side.
“What’s this?”
Picking it up you see Benny’s handwriting.
“Why’s Benny sending you something?”
“I dunno, it’s Benny, he’s probably found something he thinks is funny.”
“Are you gonna open it?”
“No.”
You tilt your head, “Can I open it?”
Frankie shrugs, “Sure.”
Santiago has a glint in his eye, all he wants to do is take a jab at the fact he’s letting his girl open his mail. He chooses to keep his mouth shut because he doesn’t need Frankie throttling him this evening.
Popping the parcel on the table, you rummage for a knife to break the duck tape.
“Any ideas?”
“Nah, man, knowing Benny it’s some sort of odd sex thing. You sure you want her to open that?”
Frankie honestly couldn’t care less, Benny had sent him some shit in the past, including a fake letter with lacy underwear hanging from the seal. Benny thought he’d have a laugh however he used it as an excuse to move and never come face-to-face with that postal worker again. It was small, what harm could it do?
You press the blade along the sides first before gently cutting the box along the middle, then the next part, is a little bit of a blur.
Your soft touch meant the box didn’t quite do what it was intended to until your face was close. Whatever way Benny rigged it, the lid of the item inside exploded off like an overenthusiastic Jack in the Box, sending a smoke plume of pink.
You heard a chair scrape heftily on tiled floors, felt the pressure of hands grabbing your arms as your back met the countertop behind. Frankie spewed a variety of profanities, both in English and Spanish, as you choked and spluttered on whatever had come from that package.
“I’m going to kill him.”
You blinked, the pink still in your vision.
Frankie brought his hands to your cheeks, callous thumbs rubbing, his big brown eyes searching your face. There was a tingling sensation that spread down your face pleasantly, it wasn’t scary just unusual.
“Everything alright?”
“I - urgh,” you process your words. “What the fuck was that?”
To your surprise, Santiago was still sat down, brows knotted. Benny wouldn’t be this stupid would he?
He draws the box closer, pulling out two pieces of paper. The first reads ‘Have fun you two ;P’, and the second is a pamphlet in a pink equally matching the cloud that escaped.
“Shit.”
“What?” Frankie’s query came from deep within his throat, your pussy clenched.
“I’ve heard of this, it’s just hit the market.”
By the way he says market, you know he means a kinky one.
“Pope, I swear -“
“It’s a powdered aphrodisiac…”
Both you and Frankie look at him with confused expressions, he would never tell either of you how adorable you looked or maybe it’s because those tiny potent particles are in the air.
“And our girl just got a face full of it.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Oh,” you say quietly.
That tingling in your face had travelled, you could feel it in every limbs, running through your veins, pooling in excitement. You wrap your fingers over the edge of the countertop to steady yourself, swallowing hard.
Frankie swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Oh no.”
You try to focus on your breathing, slowing down your increasing heartbeat but it’s seeming impossible, you can feel you legs turning to jelly. All you could think about was getting out of the space, containing your building ecstasy out of the vicinity of two men who, right now, were not burning with desire.
You take a couple of steps and Santiago is on his feet.
“Stop,” he comes forward.
“What, no, we’re not doing this,” Frankie blocks his path.
You try to make your escape as they start to argue.
“Are you serious, Fish? She’s got to get this out of her system.”
“There’s gotta be another option.”
“This isn’t the sort of thing that just wears off when she goes to sleep.”
You can’t remember their argumentative tones sounding this fucking good before. You were salivating at the thought of their heated bodies almost pressed up against each other, their hot breath teasing each other’s skin, muscle taut. The image wouldn’t leave your mind and you froze.
The noise that you released was both a cry of pain and pleasure.
Their voices hush before Frankie cautiously called your name.
Turning round, you pull at the edge of you skirt, your body vibrating. It was like you’d been called out at school, you couldn’t look either of them in the eye.
Santiago stood there as he does when things get serious, hands on hips, head hanging low. His eyes are dark.
“On the table.”
Frankie’s cock twitched, mouth hanging slightly agape and he looks back to you.
“Do as he says.”
He could be authoritative when he needed to be Frankie and it made your situation worse. You shuffle, the friction of your thin underwear threatening at your clit. Following their instruction, you pick yourself up onto smooth wooden top, feet dangling.
Santiago took the lead.
His touch sent electric shocks through your knees, pushing them wider. He lifts up your skirt and sees how dark your panties are, he hisses.
“You’re fucking soaked.”
Your lip quivered, “I’m scared.”
He picked up your chin, delivered you a soft smile.
“We’re going to help you, don’t worry.”
You laugh, built up nervous energy does that to you.
He waits for it to pass.
“Lay back for me.”
You continue to do as you’re told, your back meeting the table.
Santiago throws your skirt up and out of the way, fingertips grazing your thighs as he knelt at your feet. He trailed kisses up your leg, starting soft before growing heavier, his teeth nipping at your flesh before he soothed with his tongue.
Your breath was shaky.
“You’re going to be such a good girl for us, aren’t you honey?”
Frankie watches how you shiver, how your chest rises and falls as you steady yourself. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and the sensation goes straight to his hardening cock, he can’t look away as his friend brushing the tip of his nose over your mound.
You mewl as he presses his lips against that built up bundle of nerves and groans.
“Feel free to step in whenever you like.”
Santiago glances over his shoulder, lips pouted, wet with the residue of your pleasure.
You pick up your head drunkenly, wondering why Santiago had stopped but also to look at him, eyes glossed with held back tears. The corner of your lips curl with a feeble smile, you’re worried about him.
“Just concentrate on what you’re doing.”
Frankie comes over and crashes his lips onto yours, your head falling back with the force of his action. You gasp, only allowing him to slip in his tongue and roam your mouth, yours working in tandem. He fumbles to undo your shirt buttons before his hands claw at freshly exposed skin, his thumbs following the curvature of your breasts.
Santiago hooked your underwear to one side, the tip of his tongue licking along the creases of your outer lips with careful precision.
You moan into Frankie’s mouth and he gladly accepts.
He pulls your shirt further open, catching the elasticated straps of your bra and running along the edge to free your breasts from the cups. He grabs them in handfuls, breathing in every delicious noise that escaped you.
Santiago’s cock was straining against his jeans, the air he was breathing thick with the scent of your juices. Letting go of your hip, he carries on licking you whilst his free hand pulled at his belt, popping open the button and unzipping with a satisfied sigh. He was throbbing, his balls feeling heavier than usual, he was going to take you on this fucking table if it was the last thing he did on earth.
Frankie finally let you come up for air but it didn’t mean he stopped.
His kisses ran down your neck and along your décolletage, his patchy whiskers scratching. You ran your fingers through his brown curls, nails digging into the scalp, raising his face up. His Adam’s apple bobbed as the saliva built against his cheeks, the colour of his eyes no longer visible.
And Santiago?
Santiago didn’t like not having some attention.
“Fuck!”
You cry as he presses his tongue flat against your cunt and licks in one lengthily swoop, your legs clamping around his head.
“Santi.”
Your shoulders fall back as he takes another lick.
If looks could kill, Santiago knows he’d be dead, the glare Frankie delivered him was enough to do that but it only made him smirk behind you. He chose to ignore the other man, taking two fingers and slipping them into your folds.
You moan, back arching as the spark ignited.
Frankie’s brows furrowed, expression stern but Santiago had only brought you closer.
Returning to your neck, he locked himself tightly into the crook, sucking hard.
“Shit.”
He was going to leave a mark.
His teeth grazed your chest, he moved down the middle before his slopping nose nudged your one breast. He pursed his lips before taking your nipple in his mouth and biting gently.
You hissed through gritted teeth, your hand reaching for the back of his head once again.
You were fit to burst.
Santiago was ruthless, pumping in and out of your weeping cunt at an alarming pace whilst Frankie was playing and nuzzling at your breast like a wild animal. You couldn’t see yourself but you know their brown eyes were dark, hungry to soak up every piece of pleasure you had to offer.
You weren’t going to last much longer.
The fever had entered every fibre of your being, ran hot through your veins and vibrated every muscle, your stomach coiling. Your skin was tingling, the pink film over your eyes lifting, bursting into white spots. Your walls were fluttering around Santiago’s digits and he knew exactly what he had to do then.
He straightened up, the tip of his cock notching the edge of the table as he continued to stroke you. He watched in delight as you dug your nails further into Frankie’s scalp, your neck taut as you gasped for air.
His fingertips curled, pressing into that soft sweet spot, thumb closing on your clit.
You screamed, snapping your legs closed yet you still didn’t give him what he wanted and that only coaxes him more.
He draws circles with his thumb as you visibly shake.
“Santi, please,” you whine.
You want him to stop, the sensation overwhelming, the blood rushing to your ears. Your hips rise to try and alleviate the pressure but he’s having none of it.
“You know what I want.”
His voice was low, gravely.
You sob. You were rarely a brat however you knew if you let yourself go, the flood gates would open and with the powder in your system, you had no idea of the outcome. But all three of you knew it had to happen eventually.
“Honey,” Santiago grazed his fingertips over your stomach, “Cum for me.”
He spread his hand and pushed you flat to the table, digging his fingers deep into that spongy spot and you unravelled. Your juices gushed, coating his hand as he removed it to rub over your clit and help you ride out your orgasm.
This is the first time Frankie has seen you squirt.
He finds himself unable to concentrate as he separates from your chest and watches your arousal soaks the kitchen floor.
“Fuuuck, querida.”
The comedown sent shocks through your body, toes and fingers curling.
“I’m sorry,” you say as you gasp for air.
“You don’t need to apologise.”
He kissed your lips gently and that’s all it took for the powder to take effect yet again. You deepen the kiss, placing both hands on his patchy jawline to keep him there.
Santiago unzips his top before desperately pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor. The sweat already clung to his chest, pre cum already leaking from his cock as he shred his trousers too. Tucking his hands underneath your hips, he hauled you closer to him in one motion, ripping you from Frankie.
He balanced your lower half on the edge of the table.
“Wouldn’t you prefer the bedroom?”
“I need you here…”
He shook his head, focusing on playing with your clit against the radiating tip of his cock. It sent a shiver down your spine, a ragged breath falling from his lips as he stroked your folds. Your hands gripped the wood for dear life, you were in trouble.
“Now.”
And he pushed himself deep in one vigorous snap of the hips.
Santiago groaned, his chest rumbling against you as he brought your body to his.
“Still so tight,” he slurred to Frankie.
“Even after that? You’re losing your touch.”
You have time to catch your breath, walls pulsating around him.
“Eh, I’ll make sure you eat your words later.”
“We all know you’ll be the one with a dick in your mouth.”
Santiago squinted at Frankie to gage whether he was lying through his teeth except the man kept a straight face. Santiago had seen Frankie’s cock in the showers during their years in the military, he knew he’d be a decent size when he was hard, he’d gladly take him.
Ok, now this conversation was taking too long. You groan, “Please, hurry up and fuck me.”
The boys share a laugh.
Neither of them were used to you being like this. Sure, you always wanted sex when it came to it but this was desperate and needy and that mouth of yours, Santiago couldn’t get over it. You were normally so pliant and good for him that he may have to ensure he puts your mouth to good use later.
He swats your ass, sending a shockwave that bucks your hips.
“Been as you asked so politely.”
His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into hot flesh and the thought of your trouble got worse, you were in real fucking trouble now.
Santiago had always fitted in you, his length perfect, his girth enough to stretch you but pleasurable and with the powder, you were riding high. He wasn’t like his usual, meticulous self, he had lost as much sense as you.
It was fast and rough, his cock gliding through your slick.
Everything within you burned, the sounds filling the room, the grunts of Santiago and the moans of you a musical unison.
Frankie couldn’t believe what he was hearing or seeing, every detail crystal clear like he was watching a film against a cinema screen. How every thrust of Santiago’s hips sent a ripple through you muscles, boobs bouncing, your knuckles turning white as you held on, your expression scrunched as he pushed you closer to your next release.
Then there was his cock, hard and constricted against his jeans, he had to get involved before he blew his load.
He scrambled to get his clothes off, the heat now radiating from him.
He was never a selfish lover so he found it surprising that how Santiago dominated you was a bit of a turn on. Maybe that’s why you agreed to their offer when the four of you met that evening, each one of them were different and you liked every single one of them for just that reason.
Though the blood was pumping quickly through his veins, Frankie approached the table cautiously.
Santiago caught him out of the corner of his eye and slowed, he needed to because he knew he was close.
Frankie took your chin, soothed you as he brushed his palm across your face, a thumb rubbing your cheek bone. Your expression relaxed, head falling to the side so you could drunkenly look at him and he smiled.
“Think you can handle me too?”
His thumb crept to you mouth and Santiago stopped, drawing circles on your thighs, cock steady inside you. He waited to see if you’d answer, he knew when you got overwhelmed or had a face full of aphrodisiac powder, your brain would get foggy.
“Yeah.”
It’s quiet, only enough for Frankie to hear, he leans down and delivers the lightest of kisses. You chase for him yet he pulled back, wrapping his other hand around his cock and bringing it to your lips. Much like how Santiago’s looked, the tip was flaming bright, the veins that ran his length bulging at the work of the powder.
Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip before you lick the precum off his tip, he hisses at the touch. Flitting your eyes to his face to check he’s ok, you carry on, taking the end into your mouth and circling the ridge where his skin had pulled back.
The shiver travels through him, a strangled moan that has Santiago’s cock twitching.
“Did you teach her that?”
Frankie laughed cracking under the pressure of two sets of eyes on him.
“No, she does that all by herself.”
“Fuck, how is she so good?”
“I wish I knew.”
Santiago really did because if that was just natural, he was jealous.
You circled Frankie’s tip once more before loosening your jaw and took his length in your mouth, the edge of your nose tickling at his matching brown curls at the base.
Santiago watched you pull back and match the rhythm with his hips.
As you guided yourself back down, Santiago pushed himself back in, your moan travelling along Frankie’s cock. He wrapped his hand the back of your head, fisting your hair as he helped you take what you could, your walls flutter.
“You two are gonna be the death of me.”
You and Santiago shared a look, Frankie unaware as his eyes were screwed shut.
He picked up the speed as you did you best to keep up, humming as your lips tightened around Frankie who steady you more. Santiago took both your ankles and placed them over his shoulder, practically folding you in half as he brought his weight down on you. He couldn’t keep it up much longer and if he was going, he was taking you both with him.
His next thrust hits deep.
The notion knocked the wind out of you, Frankie’s cock falling out of your mouth as you came for air.
Santiago din’t care, the way your cunt reacted to him was so intoxicated and he wanted that over and over until he filled you. Frankie couldn’t blame him either, he needed you to take him more so he could cum down that throat of yours.
They both knew you had it in you but right now, the room almost spinning as the fiery sensation entered every bone.
Frankie guided his cock back to your mouth, pushing gently at the back of your head.
Santiago was relentless, his balls shrinking as they seemed to overfill. His legs were cramping, his knees protesting yet he couldn’t stop. His grunts were now animalistic in nature, the chase for his release timeless.
You couldn’t tell how long the three of you were in that position, could only tell when they were both close and beginning to falter.
Frankie’s fingertips came to your stomach with a featherlight touch and you open your eyes to see his, irises so blown they were black. He pawed at your breast, squeezing a puffy nipple between his thumb and forefinger, your cunt holding closer to Santiago’s cock.
“We’re not gonna last much longer,” Frankie says.
You hum a response before he brings you down his cock and presses you into his belly, your throat constricts and he slides you back. He relaxes his hand on your breast and draws his hand up you décolletage, resting it at the bottom of your neck.
This is his tell.
He pumps you up and down his cock, noting the stutter in Santiago’s hips.
“Ready?”
Frankie puts his hand around your neck and applies light pressure before forcing your head down to the base of his cock. Every part of your body becomes tense, your walls trapping Santiago’s cock deep within you.
“Shit,” he chokes.
He comes thick and fast, his chin falling to his chest as he holds your hips up, his seed spilling messily out of you folds.
You whimper, your legs shaking as your orgasm washes over you.
Frankie felt your back beginning to lift from the table and he knows he’s got a fleeting moment to notch himself a little further. He squeezes your neck more, brings you closer and you feel him at the back of your throat. That immediate muscle spasm causes his cock to twitch and you suck as he groans.
The salty tang fills your mouth, Frankie’s grip loosening against the back of your head.
You slide back, milking his cock as much as you can before you removed him from your lips with an accompanying pop, a string of your saliva trailing.
He snapped to his senses and cupped your face in his hands, “I’m sorry, querida, are you ok?”
You look up at him with swollen lips and glossy doe eyes, fluttering your lashes, dumbfounded.
Santiago stroked your ankles then pulled himself out of you, the cum pooling onto the table. You body shudders from the lose and he presses a smile to your skin before lowering your legs to the table.
“I’ll get you some water.”
He knew you were cock drunk.
“Querida?”
Frankie brushed his nose to yours, teased the hair that clung to your forehead.
It was like you were under water, their voices were muffled and the scenery was swirling, light brighter from the refraction.
“I’m ok,” you mouth was drying out.
He kissed you softly, laying you back against the cooling wood.
“There’s some bottles out in the garage.”
Once you all made it to the bedroom, you were there for the night so Frankie saw it best to stock up. He took the full glass from Santiago, who continued to saunter around the house nude, his soft cock already beginning to harden.
“Are you serious, what is up with you?” Frankie gestured.
“Fuck you.”
He knew the other man would let him too.
Returning to you, Frankie helped ease you from the table, getting you to sit up straight. You took the water from him and chugged it down, he immediately got you another one.
Santiago came back into your view.
“Can we go somewhere a little more comfy?”
“Of course, honey,” he kissed your temple.
Your cunt clenched around nothing. Though you were loving the attention Frankie and Santiago were paying you, you prayed it would end soon just for your pussy's sake.
“D’you want me to carry you?”
Frankie’s fingertips grazed your hip, gently coaxing you to come with him. Your eyes flit down to his cock, his desire apparent, and he looks away sheepishly. A smile drew across your face as you entwined your fingers into his.
“If you don’t mind.”
Sure, the night wasn’t the quiet night in you expected but thank god Frankie and Santiago were there to alleviate you.
—
“Can’t sleep?”
Santiago sat in the glow of the television, volume low.
You shake your head.
He smiled, “Apparently you might be the only person who’s ever had a face full of Aphrodite’s Powder.”
“Is that what they’re calling it?”
He hummed in response.
You hadn’t moved from the nook in the hallway, your focus on playing with the sleeve of Frankie’s flannel shirt you wore, legs fidgety.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Frankie’s out cold and I’m… still itchy.”
Santiago put his phone down and beckoned for you to go over. You scuttle, legs aching and settle into his lap. He coils an arm around your frame, pressing a shoulder to his, your head resting against his temple. With his other hand, he drops two fingers to your clit and draws careful circles.
“I don’t have the energy to fuck you.”
“I know,” you kiss his salt and pepper hairline, “this will do just fine.”
Everything about the evening became a blur, they pushed you through one orgasm then another then another before you’re sure you blacked out. You wake up to the stillness of the house, the calm of the morning sun breaking through the kitchen window. The television had switched off on it’s own accord and Santiago was sleeping softly, his hand resting between your thighs.
Yes, this will do just fine, you thought, nestling back under his jaw.
#kinktober 2023#triple frontier#triple frontier x reader#frankie catfish morales#santiago garcia#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#santiago garcia x reader#santiago garcia x you#kinktober
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pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
summary: just the ol' cliche courting method— wooing your girl with the pretty flowers plucked straight from the garden.
warnings: nothing, just fluff and love and dad!aemond.
notes: i've been gone for over a week, so pls enjoy this small drabble i wrote while watching my poor mother burn her sweet potato fries.
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
Tangled in Aemond’s hand are six flowers— three red garden roses, two pale-pink peonies, and an anemone that was barely beginning to blossom when he plucked them all from the garden an hour before. Its petals are white like snow and large, and a bit nice smelling too, at least to him.
And thankfully none have fallen droopy already.
He carries them to his room, where he knows his pretty handmaid is. She’s fluffing the pillows, smoothing out any noticeable wrinkles. Her hair is pulled back into a long, thick braid that floods down her back to her waist, and Aemond feels his heart suddenly leaping up to his mouth, striking him utterly dumb in the moment.
Aemond just stands there, appreciating the sight.
A minute later maybe, she glances up, and her eyes meet his, causing a small blush to color both his cheeks.
“Prince Aemond,” his handmaid then curtsies in a manner that reminds him of a highborn riverlands lady. Aemond takes a step forward, clearing his throat. His hands feel clammy now, and he wills himself not to stutter over his words like some stupid and drunken fool.
“Sweet lady of mine,” he says, “though these flowers are only half as beautiful as yourself, it is in my greatest hope that you do me the honor in accepting them.” Her eyebrow lifts and he then feels a little shy. “I-uh, thought you would like them.” Much to his delight, she takes the flowers with a giggle, biting her bottom lip as she raises them for a sniff, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the three red roses.
“Thank you, my prince.”
Smiling, Aemond takes her hand, lifting it up to his lips for a kiss. He kisses her knuckles before dragging his mouth down to her wrist.
“Although, my prince, you shouldn’t have,” she adds.
He tilts his head at that, two fingers brushing against her cheek before stroking a strand of escaped hair. “And why is that, my love?” Aemond asks her. She looks absolutely radiant, he thinks quite happily, with a new glow that glimmers along her cheekbones and plump lips and twinkles within her pretty doe-eyes. Although she always gets like this after every new courting gift he gives, such as newly tailored gowns in rich Myrish clothes and a silver necklace lined in glittering sapphires, as blue and pure as the sea.
“Because I have nothing to gift you in return!”
Aemond laughs.
At that, his handmaid pouts and pulls back from his arms, turning and walking to his desk where a glass vase sits on his desk. It is already filled with fresh water for the flowers. “You think I’m simply jesting but ‘tis the truth, Aemond!” She looks back at him again, falling silent. He can already hear her scolding herself for saying his name aloud like that. “Prince Aemond, I meant…”
“Aemond.”
“You’re my prince,” she demurs.
“Mmm, and the father to those two babies sleeping in your belly.”
Her lips press together in a thin line, in an attempt to remain calm and modest, she knows. She looks so pretty when she does so. He loves her so much it makes his heart sing inside his chest.
My princess. My lady. My wife.
Aemond soon crosses the room to where she stands, wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders. “You have nothing to gift me? Oh, you are such a silly, silly girl,” he teases, kissing the tip of her nose. “Flowers are nothing compared to the gift you have given me.”
He flattens his palm between the hollow of her swelling belly and tender breasts, hidden beneath her plain servant dress.
“Don’t you remember? Or should I perhaps remind you?”
He leans to kiss her, only stopping when his lips brush softly against hers, and he overhears her breath hitching in her throat. His eye flickers over her face, committing every feature to memory. “You have given me—,” and he drops a quick kiss on her lips. “The gift of—“ and another kiss, “—fatherhood,” and the final kiss is filled with all the burning passion and love and affection and adoration he harbors for her— his maiden far more beautiful than any damn garden.
Aemond hugs his handmaid close, sliding a hand beneath her chin to keep her face upwards to his, and maybe it is just his imagination, but he swears he feels his babes kicking. Perhaps they liked the flowers as well.
After all, peonies tend to be associated with new motherhood and babies and all the happiness he is nowadays experiencing.
tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess @okfashionista @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @mochimommy2002 @fangirlninja67 @iiamthehybrid @bellstwd
taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond fanfiction#aemond drabble#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond the kinslayer#handmaid!reader#his handmaid’s tales#house of the dragon#house of the dragon imagine#hotd fanfic#vic writes 🧸
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John 'Soap' MacTavish
not proof read. happy reading!
warnings: none. just self indulgent tooth rotting fluff.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The chatter of your two year old son as he plays two doors down in his room being the only interruption every so often in your suspiciously quiet house. Your husband, Johnny, had headed straight to the shower after his morning run and had been in there for some time. Your suspicion bubbling to the surface even more.
“John? Are you alright in there? You've been in there longer than me.” You tease.
“All good lass.” He says as the door opens the steam sneaking out from around him.
You blink, then blink again deliberately slowing your motions down as if it will change the outcome in front of you. A completely smooth, clean shaven, baby faced John MacTavish. Though some of the small scars he's gotten over the years are more prominent now. Nothing wild or out of bonds, just small scars here and there marring his cheek or eye area.
It's not like you haven't seen Johnny like this because being together for six years and married for more than half that you've seen his facial hair take on every possible form. It's just most of the time your husband had some form of facial hair. Especially since you'd had your son. John keeping a thicker than his usual stubble or five o'clock shadow.
“Who are you and what have you done to my husband?” You ask in mock horror.
He chuckles softly at that. “What, you don't like it? Thought you loved me no matter what. In sickness and health and…questionable cosmetic choices.” He teases.
“Yeah, I do but you know that already.” You say cupping one of his cheeks tenderly as he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. He explains how it's temporary, for an upcoming undercover op. The gentle patter of small feet and your son's head peeking into your room as he calls for you is all the warning you get, before your husband's mini me spots you and immediately runs into your arms. As you hoist him up on your hip, nodding at the broken babble before his eyes skitter to his father.
He pauses and really looks at the seemingly unfamiliar strange man, his babbling instantly tapering off. His eyes widen and he looks to you eyes huge as if asking; 'Mom you seeing this?'
The tell tale pout that signals he's about to cry graces his features. They stare each other down for a few moments. The smaller of the two tilting his head to the side slightly, a small crease between his eyebrows as he continues to look at your husband. Johnny in turn smiles softly, reaching out to take him in his arms the way he would any other time.
Your son looks to you with a look of bewilderment in his eyes before promptly bursting into tears. He moves instinctively closer to you, practically burying himself into the junction of your shoulder and neck.
Johnny in turn recoils slightly. Looking at you with a soft sad smile as he tries to mask the initial hurt, he tries again.
“C’mere mini MacTavish.” He coaxes, using his uncle Simon's nickname but your son shakes his head, fussing harder.
“It's just daddy, bubs.” You cooed softly. “He looks funny doesn't he?” You hum softly,kissing his head softly and rubbing his back, trying to calm the distraught toddler. Your son nods softly and mumbles something that sounds like “scary” before he sneaks another look at Johnny. You bite your lip to keep from smiling as your boys once again stare at each other.
Your son sniffles against you as he calms slightly wanting to be a brave big boy, like his dad and uncles always told him to always be. Looking at Johnny before asking in a small voice still welded to your side.
“Still daddy?” He asks, eyes huge, cheeks flushed and tears still clinging to his long lashes.
“Aye, still me bud.” Johnny says accent thick as he smiles softly at his mini me. Your son perks up a bit at the familiarity of his voice. You can practically see the gears in his head turning. Sounds like dad and mom says it's dad so maybe it is.
He shyly makes grab hands at johnny. In an instant he's swept up into your husband's arms, head on his broad shoulder as his small hand meets Johnny's cheek. His brows still furrowed at the new sight of your husband's facial hair free face. The toddler grasps at his father's face before looking back at you for reassurance
“Still daddy, bubba.” You say,rubbing his back as Johnny rubs the back of his head, pressing a soft kiss to the toddlers temple. That elicited a small giggle from the small boy as he puzzles into his father's shoulder before wriggling in his arms, a clear sign to be put down.
“Play?!” Your toddler asks with big doe eyes that your husband insists that he got from you.
"Aye, course we can." Johnny confirms as he lets the toddler lead the way.
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iv'e never posted on tumblr (or for the cod fandom) before so feedback, comments and likes are more than welcome. ive had this idea in my head forever and finally got around to writing it.
#cod imagine#cod x reader#john mactavish#soap x reader#soap x you#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish fluff#soap imagine#reader insert#call of duty imagine#call of duty#female reader#fem! reader#fem reader#afab reader
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