Tumgik
#loves to tease and fluster you n hes so good at it but the moment u give him the same treatment? he is Gone. down for the count
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i’ll relearn love at our kitchen table ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru doesn’t quite know what love is supposed to feel like. but if it means coming home to you, it can’t possibly be that much of a curse.
word count; 4.9k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, satoru gojo vs. the mortifying ordeal of being loved, fluff fluff fluff!!, a hint of angst if you reeeaallyyy squint, gojo’s pov, the babygirlification of satoru gojo, i just think being babied would fix him <33
a/n; i wanted to write something for suguru or shoko but this man is genuinely holding my brain hostage atp so more satoru fluff it is!! physically i could write gojo angst yes but emotionally? imagine the toll…
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when satoru steps over the threshold to your apartment, he’s downright exhausted.
it’s a heavy kind of fatigue, a little sickening. the kind that seems to sneak its way into his bones, crawl its way under his skin. dragging him down, down, down.
a yawn slips from his lips.
the mission itself wasn’t too tough — anything is a breeze for satoru gojo, that fact needs no elaboration. this one was just a little more taxing than usual, slightly more important, which meant he had to deal with the technicalities of it all. had to listen to the elders go on and on about the importance of discretion, about finishing things swiftly and efficiently, and something else he didn’t stick around long enough to hear.
and the curse? a small fry, really. nothing worth fussing over. but it was annoying, with that irritatingly effective barrier technique. how long did he have to stay inside that goddamn veil before it let him get close enough to land a hit? 
satoru doesn’t want to think about it, can’t be bothered to figure it out when all he wants is to collapse into the warm comfort of a soft mattress. all he knows is that when it finally lifted, the night sky was the only thing he could see. a vacuum of stars — taunting in its perpetuity.
so, with all that being said; to say satoru feels a little worn out might be a bit of an understatement. 
hair slightly tousled, eyelids heavy with sleep-deprivation, he slumps against the wall and allows himself to simply breathe. a soft groan flows from his parted lips as he stretches idly, a small respite for his stiff and achy joints, his tired muscles. 
it’s been a long day. but satoru still finds it in him to exhale a relieved breath, to drag his blindfold down to his neck and kick off his shoes.
because it’s been a long, long day — but now he’s finally home.
(not just a house, not just an apartment, but a home. a place of comfort and belonging. satoru didn’t think that was a luxury he would ever be able to afford.)
the moment he lets the door close behind him, a particular scent greets him. soothing in its familiarity, the only thing in his life that never seems to change; a blend between fresh laundry, and watered houseplants, and something that smells a bit like honey. maybe even sweeter than usual, though satoru chalks that up to his mind playing tricks on him. 
it’s nice. so nice. coming back to something warm and real, a respite from his hectic work. a safe haven, of sorts, one that hasn’t been taken from him just yet.
satoru likes to think of your front door as a threshold between realms, a gap between within and without. one is dark in its saturation, plagued by that never-fading smell of iron, while the other is simply warm. sacred in its normalcy. 
everything looks just as it should, the same as when he rushed out this morning; a fluffy blanket draped over the couch haphazardly, that soft golden light streaming out from the kitchen, your shoes by the front door.
satoru blinks, drowsily.
wait.
why is the kitchen light still on?
as if his eyes could ever deceive him, satoru rubs the skin under them groggily — blinking once, then twice. 
yep, it’s still there — that soft fluorescent glow. a sight he’s come to associate with breakfast and dinner and a mellow kind of love, laughter shared over warm meals made by human hands. food tastes better, satoru has come to realize, when you have someone to eat it with. 
ah, but it’s odd. did you forget to turn the lights off? that’s not very like you. 
as if possessed by a strange, irresistible longing, his feet carry him to the kitchen in question. undeniably groggy, his uncoordinated steps are riddled with fatigue, but the yearning in his chest compels him to move forward anyway — a kind of yearning he only fully understands when he enters the space, and sees you slumped over the table, a familiar flicker of cursed energy capturing his attention.
you’re asleep.
satoru stills, where he stands by the threshold between the kitchen and the living room.
everything looks the same as always — cookie jars placed on the highest shelf to give him an excuse to help you reach them, origami made from newspapers he never bothers to read anyway, a vase standing proudly on the kitchen counter, stuffed with fresh flowers he bought for you two days ago. 
the red roses still haven’t wilted, shining in the blue of the moonlight flickering in. good. they’re pretty, but maybe next time he should get you something more original. maybe some sunflowers, something that could rival the brightness of your smile. do they even sell sunflowers this time of year? if you were awake, satoru would ask you, even though you always tell him to just google it —
but you're not awake. you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against the kitchen table, snoring softly.
satoru feels his mood lift at the sight alone, and suddenly he doesn’t feel as tired anymore. something soft and almost otherworldly sprouts in his chest, as he takes you in, stepping closer. almost giddy, just to see you up close.
you look so peaceful and relaxed, so content. elbows resting on the table as soft little breaths fall from your parted lips; he spots a bit of drool on the corner of your bottom lip, gaze fond as he wipes it away with his thumb. he can’t resist the urge to poke your cheek, and it makes you stir ever so slightly — lips curling up into something akin to a sleepy smile.
satoru grins.
(you’re so cute.)
despite his fatigue, he hears himself chuckle, all soft and amused and a little bit lovesick. it comes to him so easily, when he’s with you; that upturn of his lips, the butterflies in his stomach.
satoru is still getting used to it. this cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love. the kind that always feels like spring. but with every day that passes, the life he has with you becomes a little easier to digest. his future with you becomes a little easier to visualize.
yeah, he thinks. he could get used to this. coming home to you.
a soft smile, as he exhales a somewhat exasperated breath. you really shouldn’t be sleeping out here, though. silly.
satoru leans forward, inching closer to your pretty, sleeping face — he almost feels bad, waking you up like this. but he wants to hear your voice so badly.
so he cups your cheek, cold skin meeting warm, his hands still lingering with the bite of the midnight air. his fingertips tingle, buzzing with the body heat that trickles from your veins to his — one single touch is all it takes for him to soften.
the word that falls from his lips breaks the peaceful silence of the kitchen, breathing life into the moment. whispered into your ear, causing your brows to furrow as you gently slip from sleep’s embrace.
“baby…” 
satoru is smiling, when your eyelids flutter open. a sincere smile, reserved for you and his students. bathed in the mellow hue of the kitchen lamp’s illumination, a soft glow curls around the strands of his white hair, creating a halo of artificial light.
blinking sleepily, you gaze at him in silence. something shines in your eyes, something satoru tentatively recognizes as adoration. and he gazes right back at you, with heavy-lidded eyes and a lopsided smile. teasing, lighthearted. thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheek.
then he grins, hopelessly endeared. ”hey there, sleeping beauty.”
a yawn tumbles from your lips, and you lift yourself up. leaning into his touch. “toru…” you mumble, voice a little raspy but still oh so sweet.
satoru doesn’t say anything. he simply takes you into his arms, gently, touch so very delicate — as if you’re made of porcelain. and you just let yourself fall into his embrace, while he tucks you under his chin, safe and secure. 
it’s warm, he thinks. it feels right. complete, somehow.
and satoru thinks to himself that this must be what love feels like. what it’s supposed to feel like, anyhow, all sweet and light. all good and normal, something you never have to question. a cornerstone.
“you’re back…” you drawl, muffled into his uniform as your arms sneak around his thin waist. bringing him closer.
stroking the back of your head softly, satoru’s chest rumbles as he speaks, voice deep and a little raspy. soothing, a lullaby just for you. “yeah,” he hums. ”were you waiting?”
all you do is nuzzle further into his chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart; breathing out a sleepy little mhm that has him going weak at the knees, lips curling up helplessly.
“i wanted to…” you continue, stretching your arms a little to shrug away the remnants of sleep still clinging to your joints. “but i fell asleep.” 
satoru feels you move in his arms, until your jaw settles on top of his shoulder and you press a chaste kiss to his neck. an exhale leaves his lips, something tender in the way his breath wavers.
“welcome home,” is whispered, muffled against his skin. a sentence he never wants to go a single day without hearing. “did the mission go okay?”
he plants a kiss on top of your head, speaking in a low tilt, reassuring. “it did. just took a little longer than i thought.” a soft inhale, as he basks in the scent of your shampoo. “i wanted to text you, but the veil blocked my signal. sorry, sweetie.”
another soft yawn, and a shake of your head. “s’ fine, don’t worry,” you murmur. ”i’m just glad you’re okay.”
satoru chuckles. there’s a fondness to it, light. and then something else, something more heavy — it rumbles through his chest, almost like a purr, or a soothing thunderstorm. he can only hope it’s enough to comfort you.
“of course.” he says the words like they’re indisputable, like they’re written down in scriptures old and worn. cradling you in his strong arms, he pulls you closer to his chest. hoping you’ll feel his heartbeat against you, feel that he’s there. “i always am, aren’t i?”
no answer. only a tiny hum, absentminded.
and satoru knows, deep down, that his words don’t mean much. that a part of you is always going to worry over him, no matter how many times he tells you that there’s no need. that he’ll be fine.
the thought makes him feel a bit guilty. a little sick to his stomach, at the thought of being a source of your anxiety, the reason you can’t fall asleep at night — but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also make him feel somewhat giddy. the thought tastes sweet, on his tongue, even though it probably shouldn’t.
having someone who worries for you is a luxury, satoru has come to realize. a luxury he has, now, one he hasn’t had since —
well. that’s neither here nor there.
(“be careful, satoru,” he recalls a kind boy saying.
but that was many, many springs ago.)
“oh, right.”
at the sound of your voice, satoru pulls away ever so slightly, gazing down at you. “hm?”
with a single step back, you look up at him. tilting your head. hands still resting securely on his waist, fingertips squeezing at his hips. lightly, affectionately. barely restrained fondness. ”have you had anything to eat yet?”
“yeah. got some takeout on my way back.”
satoru expects you to sigh in relief, at his instantaneous answer. you don’t like it when he skips meals, so these days he’s been trying not to do it as much. even though he doesn’t always have the time to eat properly, and even though the sweets he chews on between missions make him lose his appetite. but he makes an honest attempt, for you.
someone worries for him. someone wants him to eat well. that’s more than enough motivation for satoru gojo.
but you don’t exhale, and you don’t look very relieved, either. you look… disappointed. eyes suddenly glancing down at the floor, lips curled down into a barely noticeable frown. 
“oh,” you breathe. “okay. good.”
one second. then two. satoru tilts his head.
“why?” he stops to think. maybe… “did you make something?”
a certain recognition flickers in the depths of your eyes, and satoru thinks he must be right on the money. chewing at your bottom lip a little, you wait a moment before curling your fingers around his wrist — tugging him away from the kitchen table.
satoru follows, pliantly, until you’re standing in front of the fridge.
“well, um… here,” you mumble, somewhat sheepishly. fingers tapping at the handle before pulling it open. “take a look.”
satoru watches as the fridge door opens, slowly.
he blinks.
the first thing he sees is a single slice of strawberry shortcake. the strawberry looks fresh, glittering like a ruby on top of the softly whisked cream — and layers of sponge cake, that look like they’d melt in his mouth.
and that’s not all. there are a wide array of baked treats stuffed into the cramped space, protected by plastic wrapping and containers. everything from cupcakes with too much frosting — just the way he likes them — to chocolate chip cookies that crumble at the corners, satoru never seems to run out of things to look at. colourful treats, lovingly made and sitting right in front of him. it’s like he’s standing in a patisserie. they almost seem to sparkle, in the peripheral of his vision; glimmering softly, tantalizingly, like something out of a dream.
childish. that’s what nanami and shoko always call him, and he always protests, but —
maybe they have a point, after all. satoru certainly feels a little childish, when he realizes his eyes must be wide and bursting with child-like giddiness. a simple kind of joy, at seeing the ample selection in front of him. especially after that tedious mission prevented him from getting any sugar into his system.
”i did my best,” you mutter, sharing the sight with him as your eyes trail over a pretty bag of pink and green macarons. ”dunno if they turned out any good, but… i hope you’ll like them.”
satoru’s gaze flits over to you. 
he opens his mouth, and then closes it again.
”did you… make these?” a beat. ”for me?”
a blink. ”.. yeah?” who else would they be for?, your eyes seem to say. a little confused.
for a second, satoru can only stare at you. in complete silence, the tired cogs inside his head turning sluggishly as he thinks about the implications of that answer. and with a soft flutter, he feels his heartbeat pick up, warming him up from the inside out. 
you made them. with your own hands. you made all of these and you did it for him.
for some reason, satoru finds it oddly hard to speak, like someone stuffed a bunch of cupcakes down his throat. it’s weird — usually he can’t seem to stop talking, especially not when he’s with you, but… 
(something about this is just too tender.)
you must have been baking all day. no wonder the apartment smelled sweeter than usual, when he walked in.
as if itching to curl around one of the macarons, his fingers twitch, but satoru gulps and keeps them still. he wants to say something, anything, wants to thank you or ask why you’d spend so much of yourself on him, but satoru only stays silent.
and maybe it’s because he’s tired. maybe he’s just a little caught off guard. usually this wouldn’t be that hard to handle — he could just throw himself on you and shower you in kisses, show his appreciation with a flurry of dramatics and declarations of love. 
but right now there seems to be a disconnect, between satoru’s mind and body. maybe the mission drained him more than he realized. or maybe it’s more than that, maybe there’s nothing he can say or do; what words could he even begin to use to properly verbalize the emotions he’s feeling right now? how could his touch ever begin to measure up to the sweet sensation unfurling in his chest?
the silence doesn’t last long. as satoru stands there and spirals, you speak up, most likely chalking it up to him being too sleepy to react. 
”this mission was especially rough, right?” you begin, with a soft tilt of your head. a smile curls its way onto your lips, proud and sweet. sweeter than everything in the fridge combined.
one step, then two. you inch closer to him, until there’s almost no space between you — standing on your tiptoes, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for his head. smoothing down his tousled hair, fingers tangling themselves between the soft white strands and getting lost in them. and it’s gentle, the way you begin to pat his head, doting. 
then you speak. ”you did well.”
and it’s such a simple thing to say. three words, three syllables, but the words just tumble out from your mouth so earnestly that satoru can’t help but still. his breath hitches in his throat, softly, barely noticeable, but it’s there. that surprise.
he never knows how to act, when you get like this. patting his head and ruffling his hair like he’s something warm and sweet and worthy of love. something delicate, and not the strongest man on the planet. 
it’s so weird. you’re so weird.
(satoru leans into your touch without thinking, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.)
it’s perplexing, this feeling, and the fact that he can’t pinpoint why frustrates him to no end. isn’t this wrong? shouldn’t he be the one ruffling your hair, coddling you?
what formula is he supposed to follow here, exactly? should he tease you? pull away from your touch?
satoru wishes his six eyes could tell him the answer, but they don’t. they’ve never been very good with emotions, with things that aren’t directly tied to his suffering or imminent death.
(so ironic. all these eyes and nothing to see. they failed to see suguru’s silence, back then, and now they fail to see what reaction would please you the most. 
really, such a worthless ability to love people with.)
no answer comes to him. so satoru doesn’t tease you, and he doesn’t pull away.
it does feel slightly wrong, though. like this feeling isn’t something he’s supposed to have, there must be some mistake, he can’t possibly be allowed to feel so loved — can he? having you bake him all his favorite treats, run your fingers through his hair. praise him for working hard.
really. isn’t he being too coddled?
(… but it feels so nice.)
satoru suspects that there’s a lot to love he might not fully understand, just yet.
maybe tomorrow, when he’s a little less tired, he can try once again to give you the impression that he’s perfect. that he doesn’t need affection, that he doesn’t crave your support or your touch. that he’s above all that, the strongest, someone for you to depend on.
depend on him, while he depends on no one. that’s the kind of existence satoru gojo is. that’s how it should be, that’s all he knows, but…
— ah. it feels really nice when your nails scratch his scalp like that.
and suddenly, that’s all satoru can think. no more pesky what-ifs, or second guessing every good thing he gets. right now, it’s just you and him. your fingers in his hair, his footprints in your life.
satoru allows himself to melt under your touch, almost meekly. leaning down just a little further, to make it easier for you to smooth your hand over his head. he nuzzles into your palm with a happy little exhale, and for some reason he feels sort of bashful.
try as he might, he doesn’t manage to successfully shoo the emotion away, so all he can do is hope you don’t take note of it.
and you just continue your onslaught of affection, now ruffling his hair with both your hands, like he’s a big puppy getting cooed over. satoru has a nagging suspicion that you might be getting a little carried away, but he doesn’t stop you. greedy, in the way he wishes your hands would never leave his hair. the way he hopes you’ll never be too far away from him to reach.
”such a hard worker,” you coo, and he feels himself grow flustered. ”my baby deserves so much love.”
”woah there,” satoru chokes out, grinning, desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint to his ears. ”are you flirting with me? i have a partner, you know.”
a giggle slips from your lips, sleepy and amused. ”oh, do you?” one of your hands goes to cup his cheek,  thumb caressing the edge of his jaw as you gaze at him fondly. ”lucky them.”
the grin you’re wearing is awfully bright. soft around the edges in a way that has him speechless, brain malfunctioning ever so slightly. satoru makes a mental note to scrap the sunflower idea — there has to be some brighter flower out there, one that can actually compete with your smile. sunflowers just won’t cut it.
but then you let go, and satoru gets broken out of his lovesick stupor.
when your hands leave his skin, his lips curl down into a soft pout. one he rushes to smooth away, before you can notice it.
you step back, failing to stifle a soft bout of laughter, but satoru knows it’s not because you saw it — he knows because your gaze is glued to his hair, and he internally winces when he thinks about how messy it must look, after your little bout of cuteness aggression. 
(you really are weird, finding him cute of all things.)
he expects you to tease him a little more, but you don’t, turning away and tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. ”if i’d known you’d be home this late,” you speak, stealing one last glance at the pastries before closing the fridge. ”then i would’ve waited until tomorrow. so you could eat them fresh.”
an apology rests on satoru’s tongue, but as if sensing it, you rush to reassure him.
”ah, but this is fine too! they should still taste good!” you turn away, muttering. ”… hopefully.”
then you nod to yourself, crossing your arms absentmindedly. 
satoru looks at you for a second. 
then he steps forward, unable to resist the temptation — tapping at your wrist with the pads of his fingers, before gently curling them around it, coaxing you into turning your head towards him.
the kiss he presses to your lips is soft, delicate. his fingers trace along your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your face up slightly, just letting his warm lips rest against yours. sweet and chaste. he sighs into the kiss, content, and feels your pulse pick up.
then he moves down to your jaw, slow and methodical — lazy kisses, sleepy but so full of affection. and little pecks, scattered all over your lips, your cheek, the tip of your nose.
you seem to melt a little, against him, and satoru relishes in it; his ability to make you relax. far more valuable than the six eyes, he would argue.
when he pulls away from you, with what takes tremendous self-restraint, he’s smiling. his gaze meets yours, layered over with pure adoration, blue eyes crinkling as he looks at you. as if you’re his entire world. the kitchen light embraces him, cascading down the contours of his face; the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his barely noticeable dimples.
and there it is, again — that flicker of love in your eyes, that adoration. as if you’re looking at a painting, something too beautiful for words.
(satoru hopes you can see that very same adoration, reflected in his eyes as he looks at you.)
after a moment, he leans forward, to rest his jaw on the curve of your shoulder. you stumble a little under the weight, caged in as his arms hug your midriff.
”god,” he sighs, breathless, heavy with giddy disbelief. almost whining when he continues, nuzzling into your neck as if to hide. ”why are you so perfect, huh? i don’t get it.”
at that, you huff out a laugh, an amused little breath. wrapping your arms around his neck and scratching softly at his nape. satoru shudders just a little, arms tightening around you.
”stealing my line…” you mutter, accusatory, smile laced over with a honeyed affection. 
another amused breath, this time from him. this is one battle he won’t let you win. ”nah,” he grins, tugging you closer. ”’s mine.”
this is warm, he thinks. this feels right. complete, in a way that satoru never understood before you.
he could probably stand there forever, just basking in it. soaking up your body heat and the smell of your shampoo. until your warmth is all he knows, until he can never get your scent off his skin.
and satoru thinks that he could get used to this. a cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love, one that smells like spring and tastes like strawberry shortcakes and feels like tight hugs shared in kitchens.
your love makes him feel so human. and it’s scary, terrifying even, but it's also too good to pass up. it’s worth the risk. so worth everything.
a yawn leaves your lips, suddenly. satoru feels you soften in his embrace, nuzzling closer to him, stumbling just a tad; he doesn’t think it’s fair, for such a simple gesture to make him as happy as it does.
”sleepy?” he coos, smile giddy and fond. ”let’s go to bed, okay? no more sleeping on the kitchen table, silly.”
a disgruntled little huff resounds throughout the air, as you let your arms fall to your sides. ”that’s on you,” you declare, poking the plush of his chest with your finger. ”i only fell asleep because you took so long.”
a teasing glint flickers in satoru’s eyes.
”wanted to see me that badly, huh?” he coos. you roll your eyes, and he pulls your cheek. ”that’s cute.”
”so what if i did?”
satoru stills. you’re smiling, a little mischievous, but mostly sincere. and it really is very unfair of you, he thinks — to do this to him while his guard is down. 
but he manages to pull himself together, raising an amused eyebrow and booping your nose in a way that catches you off guard. blinking up at him, eyelashes fluttering. 
satoru clears his throat. ”well, that’s sweet.”
then he turns on his heel, suddenly, and strolls over to the fridge. ”but you know what’s even sweeter?” he chirps, fingers curling around the handle as he swiftly pulls it open. 
licking his lips, absentmindedly, his eyes trail over all the different pastries. so close yet so far, just out of reach; his fingers move forward, towards that mesmerizing slice of strawberry shortcake —
”— no.”
a hand settles on satoru’s waist, and tugs him away from his well-deserved prize. taking advantage of his momentary surprise, you close the fridge decisively, and give him an unimpressed raise of your eyebrow.
satoru whines, loud and grating. pouting sweetly, trying to make you feel bad. ”c’mon, just one bite —”
”no.”
”but they’re for me!”
”they’re for you to eat tomorrow. i was only gonna let you eat them tonight if you were on the brink of starvation, or something.”
”i am!”
”so the takeout was a lie?” you narrow your eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. ”have you been skipping meals, again?”
satoru pauses. weighing his options. ”well, no, but…”
”— then no.”
another soft whine. you turn away from him, when he tilts his head and gives you his best set of puppy dog eyes. in fear of giving in to them, satoru knows, as you have so many times before. ”please?” he tries, to no avail.
”you’re not eating sweets before bed, satoru,” you deadpan, and his smile falls further, exaggerated. ”and no, we are not having that conversation again.”
he can tell you’re trying to sound stern, but a giggle tumbles from your lips nonetheless, at the ridiculousness of the situation. keeping a grown man away from your fridge, knowing that he’ll wolf down every pastry he sees and get himself sick if you don’t. all while the man in question whines at you in protest, frowing so deeply, disappointment evident on his features.
(except satoru really isn’t very disappointed at all. like this, he gets to stare at your smile all he wants, after all; knowing you won’t notice it, too busy trying to keep yourself from giving in to his pleas.)
he tries again, one last time. just because he knows it’ll make you laugh. you do, a little exasperated, and satoru couldn’t be happier. 
and he thinks to himself that if this is what love is, if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, then it can’t possibly be that much of a curse. 
maybe he should revise the hypothesis, get a second opinion. he’ll have to ask you tomorrow, over pastries and coffee, and hear what you have to say.
as you both stumble to the bedroom, sleepy and a little delirious, satoru thinks that maybe this is enough; the lighthearted banter, the fond laughter. everything good and real and normal, within the space of your apartment, a home he never thought he’d have.
(and maybe, a second opinion isn’t necessary, after all. maybe it doesn’t really matter if love is a curse or not, as long as he gets to share it with you, like this.)
that night, satoru dreams. curled up with you beneath the blankets, limbs tangled together, as if he could never be close enough.
he dreams of kitchen lights, of sweet treats and warm hands. of spring breezes, and a love he’s finally beginning to accept for what it is:
good. wholly and thoroughly.
1K notes · View notes
primofate · 3 months
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"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left
Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts
Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  
Aether
gets flustered
"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."
he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?
Starts to second guess if he really gave you that
Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment
Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark
"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"
Albedo
stares at it for the longest time.
There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.
Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever
"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"
Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it
Brews about a 100 of 'em
Alhaitham
Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye
"I'd advise you to hide it,"
he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out
but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you
"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."
He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.
"...I best be going now."
He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.
Ayato
chuckles to himself
"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"
but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.
Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"
You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.
Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"
Cyno
is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.
Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.
Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind
Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...
Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.
"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."
You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding
Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.
Dainsleif
Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.
Points it out immediately
"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.
"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...
"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"
Diluc
is surprised, then apologetic
He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night
Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.
"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"
Is seriously considering repenting about it
Itto
"Whoa--"
Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers
"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully
No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say
"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"
You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment
Kaeya
smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.
"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"
winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.
"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"
is only half joking
Lyney
mischievous laugh
is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic
"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling
"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"
Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"
always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.
Neuvillette
clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water
"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.
"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.
"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"
points it out by gently thumbing at it
Scaramouche
shit-eating grin at the sight of it
Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.
"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now
but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"
Tartaglia
laughs but is slightly apologetic
"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"
You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.
"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"
I think you know what or where he's thinking about
Tighnari
Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.
"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"
He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously
He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"
He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.
"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.
Wriothesley
laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards
Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically
"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms
Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"
Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.
"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"
Xiao
Freezes while looking at it
For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.
"...Y/N..."
seriously does not know what to say
stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.
"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"
You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.
Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"
Zhongli
chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.
"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"
he again chuckles as he explains.
"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"
brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it
End
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
Text
whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 
He circles to the foot of the bed. 
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 
Your eyes narrow. 
“Don’t patronize me.” 
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 
“I like hearing you say yes.” 
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 
“Yes, you can take them off.” 
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 
“My attitude is your fault.” 
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 
“Spencer,” you grit. 
He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 
“Are you just saying that?” 
Another kiss. 
“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 
“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 
“Don’t go spreading it around.” 
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 
“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 
“Oh, do I?” 
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angelltheninth · 5 days
Note
Can you write what kinds of things JJK men would do to make readers heart race?
Exist. That's enough for me.
Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Yuta x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, kissing, phone calls, cuddles, playful slap, princess carry
A/N: Well ok, they thry exist in 2D, that's good eniugh.
Yuuji eats lunch with you every day even if he's in a hospital. It's important for him that you get that time together and he gets to talk your ear off about the things that happened that day. Will casually steal a bite of your food and comment how it tastes so much better from something that your lips have touched.
Sukuna doesn't really know what constitutes as sweet anymore with the times constantly changing. He does what he likes and hopes you'll pick up on what he's trying to do. Unfortunately that something is giving your butt a smack when you walk by and then pretending he didn't do it until you get real close and he offers a kiss or a few as apology.
Megumi puts his arm around your shoulders when you walk down the street together. He never meets your eyes when he does it but even with his head turned the other way you can see the faint traces of a blush blooming across his face. You try to do the same to him but it really doesn't have the same effect.
Gojo is a little bit silly when he wants to get your attention. He is really loud when he calls your name and practically jumps you before spinning you around, not caring who sees or thinks the sight is embarrassing. You're his girlfriend and he wants to make you laugh and smile for him, always.
Nanami calls you just to tell you that he loves you very much. Seriously that is all he does, just three simple words and then he hangs up on you, not even giving you enough time to say it back, just a brief sound of delight. This happens several times a day but always at the same time to the point when you know exactly when he'll call but his words always have an effect on you.
Geto opens his arms and waits for you to melt in them every night. Better do it fast cause he will pout and complain otherwise and make the lack of feeling your body against his everyone's problem. God, he makes it sound so much more lewd then it actually is and you bet that he knows it too, it's why he does it, all for that cute flustered face.
Toji never gets tired of kissing you but his kisses are never just the sweet and calming kind, they always carry passion and heat with them. His thumb pulls on your chin, brushing your lip for a moment before you feel his tongue lick into your mouth. Always aims to take your breath away and leave you a heaving mess of a woman in his lap.
Yuta really loves to princess carry you for seemingly no reason at all. Most people would save those kinds of things for special occasions but not him, for him every day is special if he gets to spend it with you. So he will make sure you feel special every time he takes you in his arms and kisses you.
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clandestineloki · 9 months
Text
miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p2)
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part 2 to this
miguel rolls you over on your back and takes your wrists in his hand, kissing your fingers and smiling up at you
it may be a sincere, sweet smile, but you're very flustered because this is your very attractive husband mind you
and you're still blushing like a schoolgirl when he looks at you with hearts in his eyes!!
he laughs softly at your flustered expression, and he just makes you even more embarrassed by spreading ur thighs open and licking his lips.
and he eats you up literally bc he bites down on your thigh like ur a little bun of bread, with the chomp noise and all >:(
then he goes n leaves a huge bite like the vampire daddy he is and then kisses it better, leaving a hickey and riling you up n making you whine
he is so mean!! but hes also calling u a good little wife so u're feeling very floaty <33
then his hands knead ur breasts and you whimper, so sensitive after the bath to the point where a brush of his skin against yours makes you super wet between ur legs poor babyy
and miguel notices that and bites his lip. you're such a needy baby, aren't you, gatita?
u never wanna admit it, but that's okay, he'll just prove it by fucking you so good you go dumb <33
so he gets to work on the fountain of youth between your legs
licks a fat stripe up your cunt and makes you twitch and shiver
stay still, baby, he mumbles against ur pussy, lean back, let daddy enjoy his favorite dessert~
fuck you taste so sweet, gatita, you got daddy wrapped around your little finger, mm?
you really have no idea how sexy you are :((
he licks up all your juices and laughs when he feels your thighs shaking, and just keeps eating his lovely wife out like she's his last meal
then when he feels your little hole clenching down, just so desperate to be filled
he shoves two fingers in and grins when you scream in pleasure, coming as he curls his fingers up into your cunt as you squirt all over his face <3333
pulls his fingers away and licks up the mess on his hand
then he holds his fingers out to you like "wanna taste"
n you're like "eww no" and he bursts out laughing
"more for me then hahaha- ow! dont hit me gatita"
he's disgusting...ly charming omg
u turn on ur side facing away from him but he pushes u on your back again
did you think he was done with you?? oh no no
he sinks in, no more prep needed since he got u sooooo needy and even his teasing made you so flustered nd aroused
"ah, such a cute little plaything, letting me fuck her as i please, you like when i tease you dont you bebita<3"
you whimper and turn ur head away, but he goes no no babyy i wont tease anymore, my pretty wife just look at me please?~
you turn ur head back to him and he grins, thrusting even harder
"ahh that's it baby~" he grunts, pinning your wrists to the side and kissing your neck sloppily.
"d-daddy!" you whine, squirming under his weight and he laughs
"don't run from me, bebita, we both know your pretty pussy loves me, doesnt it~?"
and he rubs ur little clit and makes you scream and go dumb from bliss
then he goes even harder, overstimulating u, but when you can't hear him, he whispers so many sorrys and i love yous because he knows he doesnt deserve such a pretty little wife who lets him do whatever he wants with her :((
but he hears you slur out, "i love you" and he kisses you passionately, both his and your doubts gone because this moment is all you two needed to calm down
then he wraps the two of you up in the blankets in a spooning position and kisses you goodnight n cradles you in his arms
but not before he slips his cock in u again >:))
he makes you sleep that way cockwarming him
and as a reward u wake up to the feeling of him lazily thrusting into you <3
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alastorss · 2 months
Note
HIIII so i had an idea for like a reader that's crushing on alastor, and angel dust making jokes about it in front of alastor and basically what would happen once he catches on
Have a lovely day, get good sleep!!!<33 luv ur writing<33
a/n: hello sweets <3 thank you and i hope you like this!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Alastor has watched you splash your martini all over Angel's face so many times this week, he's almost certain the star is provoking you on purpose just for a free drink.
In the short time he's come to know him, he's learned that if there's one thing Angel Dust is good at—besides looking pretty on film—it's that he can be absolutely shameless.
Alastor remembers, with a twinge of disgust, that the spider had once told him he came with built in reins. That comment kept him seething for hours.
And now, poor you, having fallen into the trap of his intricate web—the Radio Demon would be laughing if he didn't actually feel slightly bad for you. He knows what it's like to be on the receiving end of those comments, after all.
You, unlike your four-armed friend, have a capacity for shame the likes of which have never been seen before. All hot cheeks and wide eyes, lips pulled into a straight, thin line—embarrassment burns in every corner of your expression.
Though, that's probably why Angel has taken such a liking to teasing you.
Here he is again, crawling over the bar to get into your face as soon as Alastor appears in the room. His voice is low and melodic, so quiet the Overlord can't quite make out the words until—
"Look, hun. Your prince charming!"
Alastor raises a brow as he takes his seat next to you at the bar, setting down his newspaper.
"What was that?" He asks, eyes flickering between you and a coy-looking Angel Dust.
"Oh, nothin'. That right, sugar?"
You look nothing but utterly defeated, martini forgotten and abandoned. "Angel..." you mutter in warning. The spider only shrugs and gives you a toothy little grin.
"Hey Smiles," Angel suddenly grabs you by the cheeks and turns your face to look in Alastor's direction. You only blink at each other in surprise. "Cute, eh?"
You quickly smack his hand away from you, swivelling around to glare. "Quit it!"
Angel puts his hands up in mock surrender. He huffs, backing off. "Okay, okay! Fine! You two are unbelievable."
With that, he stalks off to bother Husk instead. You sigh in relief, head hitting the bar counter. For a moment, you completely forget that Alastor is still sitting beside you.
"Care to explain?"
He watches as you nearly jolt out of your skin, amused at how flustered you are from a little teasing. It's rather cute.
"It's nothing!" You sputter, waving your arms around in panic.
But you can't fool Alastor. Not anymore.
It hadn't clicked before—that perhaps there was some merit behind Angel Dust's words. He had gotten so used to empty threats of sexual advances that he had ruled out the possibility that the star was being a little serious for once.
He wasn't exactly subtle, always jumping on the opportunity to make your cheeks burn whenever the Radio Demon was around.
"It didn't sound like nothing," he sings, leaning in closer to you so he can gauge your reaction.
As expected, you nearly leap away from him when he suddenly invades your personal space. He snickers.
"Not you too..." you groan.
"Why, I didn't know you had such a crush on me, darling~"
"You're the worst."
"Ah, and I suppose that's why our dear friend has been teasing you about me all this time? Because I'm the worst, and you hate me?"
He's getting entirely too close. His face is nearly touching yours.
You stare at him in bewilderment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, you manage to stammer out a weak retort.
"You should butt out of other people's business."
"It sounds like it's about to be my business, dear. You know, if you liked me so much, you could have just told me instead of Angel Dust."
"I preferred it when you were just a regular asshole, and not a cocky one!"
"Oh, how you wound me~"
"Shut up!"
~
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screampied · 4 months
Note
choso being addicted w his s/o’s breasts and cant stop sucking and licking them while he fucks her good <3
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⤷ tags : fem!reader, missionary, soft sex, praise, nipple sucking, whiney choso an. crying sobrkohk
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choso’s in love with your body, he can’t help himself. his favorite thing to do was to simply trace his soft padded fingertips all over.
each second he wasted staring at you — the more he feels himself growing dizzy, heart racing, palms entirely sweaty.
you’d be laid flat, in such a perfect position for him and just for him. sprawled out with your legs just scantily slinging across his slim waist.
“baby, can i—” and he pauses, the thought that was currently embedded into his mind, he grew flustered. should he…? you’d probably be weirded out, or you’d show discomfort, something along those lines. current thoughts ran through his brain, and you raised a brow, clinging onto his shoulders as he presented you with soft, deep strokes. “n-nevermind.”
“say it.” you murmur, letting off a soft moan once he gently grazes a thumb against your bare tummy.
choso let’s off a defeated sigh, the inquisitive cute expression that went on your face, he had to say something. he waits a few long moments before you heard him swallow. “i…i was gonna ask,” and his soft voice was a mere whisper—you wondered what it could be, for him to be this hesitant. choso’s eyes lower down towards your chest, and then he pouts before staring right back at you. “can.. is it okay if.. can i suck on them? please?”
immensely, you were taken aback, and it seemed like judging solely from your expression—you were weirded out.
choso starts to panic, and he pauses his hips against you before babbling. “i-i’m sorry, it was random. idon’tknowwhyiasked, i just wanted-”
“baby, sure you can,” you giggle, cupping his face before planting a single kiss on his nose. “calm down. what…did you think i was gonna say no?”
“yes,” he stammers, and he’s still inside. you drag a few nails down his bulky arm before getting a bit more comfortable. choso’s body heat was so warm…hot. it was as if your skin stuck against his, and he smoothed his glossed pink lips together before letting off another sigh. “i- i thought you’d fine it disturbing,” and then he leans in toward your chest to give your nipple a single kiss. “sorry if this makes me weird but…baby, i’ve always wanted to um…lick them.”
“go ahead. i’m not gonna judge you for being dirty,” you tease, and his face grows hot at your playfulness. his breath hitches, and he gives you a stare as if asking were you sure, yet you nod. “you can do whatever you want to me. i’m all yours, choso.”
he lets off a moan, and it’s unintentional—yet cute. “…oh.” he mutters, leaning in just a bit more to softly rub a thumb against your perky nipple.
so gentle with his touch, you were sensitive and they were a bit sore—you didn’t mind though. choso starts up his pace again, and he’s a bit more slow.
slow and thorough, the moment he brings his face close towards your chest…you grow quiet and watch.
choso cups one of your breasts with one hand before pressing his mouth against it, a soft moan escapes out of him before he gently flicks his tongue against the nipple—you whine at the sheer warmth of his tongue.
he’s so compassionate, tenderly tender.
you were so sensitive, you moved a bit underneath him as his tongue ghosts against your nipples. the soft licks turned into sucking.
and that’s when you started to moan—you ran your ankle down his back, biting your lip at the feeling of his cock buried deep. each thrust was different with him, you felt everything.
“s-so good,” he whimpers, his eyes were closed. pretty lengthy black lashes just barely fluttered, tickling against your skin. choso dreamt of doing something like this. just having you underneath him, easily drifting his tongue, circling it all around the middle part of your breasts. “m-mhm, ‘s sweet.”
you smile nervously, running a hand through his hair, combing right through with your fingers and it’s as if he lets off a cute purr.
choso’s coats every part of your chest with imaginary kisses, making sure to not miss an inch.
the way his tongue twirls gently against your hardened nipples—you moaned. his pounding into you gently and him sucking deeply on both of your breasts, you didn’t know which you loved more.
“w-want more.” he breathes, each time he departed his lips, it’d be a brief pop sound. that was his favorite part. either that and choso getting a bit too carried away. his own saliva trickling outside of the corner of his lips, and he’s drooling just a bit.
“choso, ‘m gonna cum.” you’d suddenly squeak out, hugging him tightly. such whimpers and whines make way out from your mouth, and the way his strokes were so firm yet gentle. just a tad bit of roughness to it, but just right.
time and time again, he’s stretching you out and using your pussy as his favorite flashlight, he craved you, your touch, your taste, anything.
choso finds himself interlocking his fingers with yours, he then sits up to bring you into a deep kiss. “baby,” he moans, his clenched hard and abs rock against your tummy, and his bulge. his base forevermore continued to thwack and slam against you—you find yourself dizzy whenever he slightly pivots his hip to hit you there. “cum for me, and look at me. ‘s okay, just keep your eyes on me the whole time, ‘kay?”
“okay.” you whimpered, the immense pressure, its building up and stirring your insides, choso was so thick yet at the same time slender. he’s so sensual and precise with his movements, and he then gives your nipples one more suck.
once you came, it took so much out of you, such shockwaves got sent throughout your body and you had to take a moment to breathe. he thinks you look beautiful like this. “perfect girl,” he sighs, his voice was as smooth as a lullaby, your legs locked around his waist — this time a lot tighter, and he holds you close. you’re a stammering mess, legs feeling practically nonexistent. “thank you.”
“f-for what.” you panted, and choso finds himself resting his head flat on your breasts.
“for um.. letting me be dirty. sucking on your nipples,” and he was most certainly addicted was addicted to your chest, especially with licking on them. “
“you’re welcome.” you utter, fingers still running through his scalp, he sighs a happy sigh. he’s so comfortable, so warm, and so in love with you.
yet of course—the night ends with choso falling fast asleep on your breasts, still inside of you, and with a gentle smile pressing against his lips.
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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months
Text
gentleman
Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader
summary - after the events of Alabasta, everyone is unwinding in the different gendered baths. while the other men are quick to look over the wall, your boyfriend is much more respectful. until he gets to be alone with you in that bath, that is...
warnings - none, maybe slightly suggestive at the end but mostly fluff, may be errors since I'm writing this with a sprained wrist and my hand is not moving like it should
a/n: just a short fluffy drabble since i'm stunned that i have way too many angsty Zoro fics. also, this gif-
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You barely turned around when you heard Nami yelling at the boys for trying to peek at her, Vivi and you. You just turned your head slightly, an amused smile on your lips as your body relaxed into the warm water, soothing your sore and aching muscles.
"Honestly! Zoro is the only one with any decency!"
You laughed at that, and then again when you heard groaning coming from the other side of the wall. It seemed they had all gotten a shock from her outburst and fell, which was well-deserved. Nami settled back into the bath with you and Vivi, grumbling about how annoying they were and threatening to hit all of them when you got back to the Going Merry. You and Vivi giggled, before resuming your conversation.
Much later, you were still soaking yourself in the water even though Nami and Vivi had long since left to go change. You wanted to stay a bit longer, enjoying the quiet. But seconds later, you suddenly felt arms around your waist, pulling you to a strong, hard chest. You smiled, not bothering to open your eyes.
"You were waiting for this, hmm?"
"Baths are always better with you," the swordsman mumbled into your neck, his touch sending pleasurable tingles down your spine.
"Nice to know you didn't look at the other girls while they were bathing," you teased him. "What a gentleman."
A soft kiss landed on your bare shoulder, "I'm not like that pervy cook. Or the rest of those perverts. Besides, I have no interest in seeing anyone but you naked."
His words made you shiver, and a blush crept onto your cheeks, "That-I-" You didn't know what to say, flustered beyond words.
He chuckled, gently grabbing your chin to turn your head so you could look at him, "My eyes are only ever on you." He enjoyed seeing you like this, he enjoyed watching you blush and stutter at his words, knowing only he could do this to you. "But I'm surprised Chopper tried to look."
"Sanji probably encouraged him," you giggled, leaning back against your boyfriend. He was right, the bath was so much better with him in it. His arms tightened around your waist again, and you hummed in satisfaction.
"I'm going to kill that stupid cook for looking at you like this," Zoro grumbled, annoyed that they had the nerve to try and see you bare - something only reserved for him.
You laughed and kissed his cheek, "I won't stop you. That was annoying."
He grinned devilishly, "Permission to hurt him? You must be in a good mood today."
"Well..." You shifted so you were now straddling him in the water, arms around his neck as you leaned in close. "I do feel very relaxed, but my mood is much improved thanks to you."
He smiled, and moved forward to connect your lips. Unlike your usual rushed, brief pecks during the heat of a battle or before one, this kiss was deep, slow, and long. He took his time to kiss you, hands gently massaging your waist, before he brought one of them up to rest on your cheek. This was a side of him rarely seen, because of the constant danger that you were always in, so you enjoyed these few and far between moments. He kissed you reverently, like this affectionate gesture was an act of worship, and to him it was. Because to him, you were a goddess. One that he would happily spend the rest of his life devoting his time and attention to.
"I love you."
His whispered confession caused butterflies to bloom in your gut, and a shy but loving smile to grace your lips. You trailed gentle and featherlight kisses along his shoulder, letting him relax and tilt his head back with closed eyes.
"I love you too."
Moments like these allowed Zoro to be truly vulnerable, something you both appreciated. You were happy that he felt safe enough with you to be vulnerable, to expose his deepest feelings and to just be him. Because he was always acting as the crew's valiant protector, a feat that honoured him but also left no space for him to care for himself. Until you came along.
"You're so beautiful."
You hadn't realised he'd opened his eyes again until you looked up from his shoulder and saw him staring at you. Love, admiration and awe filled his eyes, and a deep blush settled on your cheeks.
"I could say the same to you."
He hummed, but dismissed your comment, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Sometimes I think I'm dreaming." His hand returned to your cheek, this time to gently caress it.
You smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again, "Does this feel like a dream?"
He smiled against your lips, "No. Which only means I died and went to heaven."
You laughed, "I thought you didn't believe in that."
"Meeting you changed my mind."
Your heart thundered in your chest, your brain malfunctioning at such sweet words. You were left speechless, and he noticed, making him smirk cockily.
"Now who's making who speechless?"
"Still me making you speechless," you smiled mischievously, trailing your hands up his thick thighs. His breath hitched, and he let out a strangled half-gasp, half-moan when you reached exactly where he wanted you.
"Fuck."
"That's what I intend to do to you."
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moonlightspencie · 1 year
Text
This Ain’t for the Best
Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader
Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing
Word Count: 5.9k
A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.
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Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.
First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.
Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.
Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.
That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.
“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.
“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.
We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.
“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.
“Where?” Bobby asked.
“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.
“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.
“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.
They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.
I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”
“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”
“Huh?”
He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”
“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”
“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”
“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”
“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”
Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”
I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.
“If you keep denying all this…”
I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”
“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”
“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”
He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”
“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you blind?”
I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.
“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”
“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”
“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”
I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.
“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”
The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.
“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.
Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”
Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.
“So, no case, then?” I asked.
Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”
“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”
I looked at him.
“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”
“I am not,” I defended.
Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggested, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”
I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”
“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”
Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”
I took a moment.
“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.
The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victims with missing livers. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.
“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.
I shrugged, looking around the house.
“It seems… clean.”
“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”
“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”
I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.
“Clean. Not even dust.”
He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”
“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”
He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”
I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.
“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”
“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”
“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.
He smirked, placing a hand on my back.
“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”
We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.
“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”
I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.
“Same place.”
“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”
“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”
He looked up at me with a quirked brow.
“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.
I snorted. “Right. So not you.”
“Leave in ten?”
“Sounds good to me.”
We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.
We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.
I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.
“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.
He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.
“What?”
“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”
I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.
“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.
“It’s a human?”
He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”
He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.
“Can— How do we do this?”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”
“We could still stab him.”
“But should we?”
He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.
“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”
He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”
“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”
“Then you feel free to shoot him.”
He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.
“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.
My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.
“You’re not cops,” he stated.
Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”
“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”
Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.
“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.
I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.
“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”
Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.
“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.
“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”
I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.
“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”
“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.
“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”
“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.
I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.
“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.
He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”
“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”
He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”
I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”
“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”
“You got that right.”
Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.
“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.
“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.
He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.
“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.
“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.
He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.
“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.
“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”
“Of course. I’ll be here.”
He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.
“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.
I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”
He smiled. “Go take a shower.”
“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.
“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”
I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.
“Movie tonight?” he asked.
I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.
“Sure.”
“Any requests?”
“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”
“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”
“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”
“Do you want one of mine?”
I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.
“That would be awesome.”
He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.
“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”
“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.
He sighed dramatically. I laughed.
“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”
He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.
He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.
“What?”
He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”
“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.
“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”
“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.
We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.
“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.
“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”
I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.
“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”
A pause.
“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”
He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.
“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”
I sighed. “That sucks.”
He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.
“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”
“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.
“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.
He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.
“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.
He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”
I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.
This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.
In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.
“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”
“Mm?”
I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.
“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”
“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”
“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”
“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.
“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.
He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.
“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”
“I know.”
He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Night, Dean.”
I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.
At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.
He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.
I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.
I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.
“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.
I smiled. “Morning.”
“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.
I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.
“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.
He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.
“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”
“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”
He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”
“Good point.”
I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.
Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.
“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.
He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”
“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.
“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”
Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”
“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.
I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.
“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.
Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”
“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”
I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.
“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”
“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.
“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”
“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”
“I’m okay.”
Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.
“You two actually fell asleep together?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”
He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.
“Making moves on her, now?”
Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.
“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”
Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”
He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.
“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”
“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.
Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.
“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”
“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.
“We talk plenty.”
“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”
Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”
I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”
“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.
“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.
The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.
I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.
“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.
“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.
He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.
“Taylor Swift?”
“You know it,” I replied.
He smiled, turning his head back.
“Stars are coming out,” he commented.
“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”
He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.
“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.
“Of course. Why?”
“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”
He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”
“You sound like me, now.”
He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”
“Yeah, guess so.”
We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.
“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”
I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.
“Thought you could use some company.”
I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.
“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”
“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”
“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.
“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”
He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.
“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”
“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.
He laughed. “Exactly my point.”
“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”
He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.
“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”
“It makes people feel that way?”
“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”
“I gathered that much.”
He laughed softly, as did I.
“How’d you know?”
“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”
His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”
“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”
He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.
“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”
“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.
“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”
“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”
I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”
“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.
“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”
“Well, when did you realize I might?”
He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”
I paused. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”
“You weren’t.”
He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…
“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.
I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.
I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.
“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”
Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.
We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.
“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”
His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.
“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”
“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.
He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.
(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)
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srvbryn · 3 months
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Luke Castellan. hands
Luke Castellan X Ares!daughter!reader
Summary: you've always like Luke Castellan, but his hands - gods. You love his hands the most
Warning: hands fetish, some suggestive jokes
A/n: I got inspo by this one Sebastian Sallow fic but made it PG-13 😰😰
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By some miracle, Luke hadn’t noticed your unwavering eye contact with his hands yet.
The two of you had been kept preoccupied with taking care of the cabin and as a result, your only opportunities to spend time with him had been during sparring time.
Clarisse, one of your half siblings, was having none of it—clearly smarter than you gave her credit for. "You're always checking out Castellan, but it's gotten worse since we returned. Did he grow a second cock or something?"
"Clarisse! You can't just say that about him', you hissed, your face flushed beetroot red, another indication that you're staring at him, specifically his hands.
"well what got your knickers twisted since the past few days sister?" She snickered. You sighed. "Have you ever found other body parts attractive? Like-"
Clarisse gasps, "Are you attracted to his feet? You are telling me you were horny because of his feet?"
You abruptly denied her, flustered. "w-what? No, I'm talking about his veiny hands."
You nervously explained to Clarisse, "It's not his feet, it's his veiny hands. There's just something about them."
She raised an eyebrow, "Veiny hands? That's your thing?"
You nodded, feeling awkward but determined. "Yeah, they're... attractive."
Clarisse smirked, "Well, good luck with your hand fetish. Just make sure you don't drool in public."
As you continued your routine at the Ares cabin, you found yourself stealing glances at Luke's hands whenever you could. One evening, while sparring, he noticed your prolonged stares.
Luke chuckled, "What's got you so interested in my hands, (Name)?"
You blushed, stumbling over your words, "I, uh, just... noticed they're, um, nice. I mean, good for sparring."
He raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Oh, you like a guy with skilled hands, huh?"
And since that day, it became a running joke among your half siblings. Luke even started teasing you about his "magic hands." Despite the embarrassment, you found yourself enjoying the exchanges.
One day, as you and Luke were alone in the cabin, he looked at you curiously. "Seriously, what's the deal with my hands?"
You took a deep breath, confessing, "I just find them... attractive. It's weird, I know."
Unexpectedly, Luke grinned, "Well, (Name), I never thought I'd have someone crushing on my hands, but I'm flattered."
Your cheeks burned, but you both laughed it off. Your crush on Luke's hands had become a well-known joke.
During a particularly heated sparring session, Luke couldn't help but notice your lingering gazes at his hands.
With a sly grin, he remarked, "Enjoying the view, (Name)? My hands are pretty skilled, aren't they?"
You bit your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment. "I...uh, they're just, you know, interesting to watch during training."
Luke chuckled, "Interesting, huh? Well, if you're into skilled hands, maybe you'd like a closer look."
Your heart raced as he extended his hand, teasingly offering it to you. Clarisse, shouted from the sidelines, "Go on, (Name), give those magical hands a touch!"
Blushing furiously, you hesitated for a moment before tentatively taking his hand. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and Luke's playful expression turned into a more knowing smirk.
Luke would purposely use his hands more during training, making sure you had a front-row seat to the display. The other campers caught on, and your crush became the subject of good-natured teasing.
You and Luke sat by the lake, he leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, (Name), there are other ways to appreciate skilled hands."
You shot him a questioning look. Luke's fingers traced patterns on your palm, sending a delightful shiver through you. "Just a thought," he whispered, his voice low and suggestive.
From that point on, your interactions with Luke took on a subtly flirtatious undertone. Whether it was a lingering touch during training or a shared secret glance.
The chemistry between you two intensified. Clarisse, sensing the change, simply rolled her eyes, muttering, "Finally catching on, huh?"
The flirtatious tension between you and Luke continued to escalate, turning each training session into a delicate dance of suggestive glances and teasing touches.
Clarisse and Annabeth (for some reason the both of them work together to tease you and Luke everyday), who had initially been the instigator of the whole affair, now simply smirked knowingly as the two of you exchanged moments.
Luke were sparring under the shade of the trees, he shot you a wicked grin. "You know, (Name), my hands aren't just good for holding weapons. They have other talents too."
You raised an eyebrow, playing along, "Oh really? And what talents might those be?"
He leaned in, the playful glint in his eyes never fading. "Oh, they're full of surprises. Want me to show you?"
Clarisse, observing from a distance, couldn't resist shouting, "Careful, (Name), you might not be able to handle the Castellan hand magic!"
That night, as you found yourselves alone in the Ares cabin, Luke leaned against the wall, his eyes locking onto yours. "So, (Name), any specific requests for my hands tonight?"
You pretended to think for a moment, then with a mischievous glint, replied, "Maybe a demonstration of their massage skills?"
He stepped closer, his proximity sending a thrill through you. "Well, if you insist."
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thatdammchickennugget · 6 months
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Just My Type
pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader
tags - hockey player and figure skater au
warnings - none I think
wordcount - 1.1k
a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested
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The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.
Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.
Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.
After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.
Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.
“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.
“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”
“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.
Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.
The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?
You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.
Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.
“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.
“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.
You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.
“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”
Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.
“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.
“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.
Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.
“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”
“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.
“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”
“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”
The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.
“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.
He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.
Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.
By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.
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runa-falls · 9 months
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reciprocation
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part 1 | part 3
pairing: best friend!steven grant x reader
cw: smut (18+), fwb relationship, PWP, face sitting, mutual-pining but their idiots so..., 69, cumming untouched, cum eating.
w/c: 3.4k of SMUT AHHH
a/n: ignore how this is suddenly typed with capital letters :0. THIS ONE IS FOR MY FAVORITE STEVEN ANON WITH THE 69 REQUEST FROM A MONTH AGO -- i'm sorry it took so long 🫠
also special shout out for @whatthefishh for reading over it like half-a-month ago 😭🙏🏻 i was going through a major writers block :^)
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----
“Are you sure about this?” You watch him warily from a few feet away, shifting from side to side.
Steven is laid back on the bed patiently waiting for you, hair fluffy and soft under him. You can tell he’s been thinking about this for a while now, eager to start. 
His voice is soft as he appraises the timid energy surrounding you, “I’m sure. I want it–you. I promise.” For once, Steven seems to be the least nervous between the two of you. You're not used to him being in charge or even initiating anything remotely affectionate, let alone sexual. “Do…you?”
You can already see the prominent outline of his erection pressing sweetly against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. No matter how loose and comfortable he dresses, he can never manage to hide his need for you. 
“I do, but I just… don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” You wring your hands together, still unsure if you should approach him. 
Steven looks at you with trusting eyes, “You won’t hurt me, darling.” His comforting words help you relax a little, almost making you forget what you agreed to, what you’re so apprehensive to attempt. He offers you a hand and you take it, letting him pull you closer and guide you onto his lap.
His voice lowers as desire drips from his lips, “Though, even if you did,” His dark eyes look up to meet yours, pure need bleeding through the gaze. You eagerly drink it in, body buzzing on top of him with flustered energy. “I think I’d be okay with it…” Your breath hitches.
You know it’s true. Steven has never shied away from pain; he even invites it in the heat of the moment. He likes to be under your control, letting you use his body to drive him crazy, even if it means teasing and denying him until he’s sobbing under you.
He loves seeing the possessive marks you leave when he wakes up in the morning, fingers ghosting over them as the night before replays in his mind, or feeling the residual sting of scratches down his torso when he takes a shower, letting the warm water draw out the sensations until he’s hard and aching for you again, and he has to seek you out, hoping you'll notice him.
You regularly get carried away, so desperate to have all of him, that you don’t even realize how intensely you devour his eagerness to please you. But Steven is more than happy to indulge your hungry advances.
He especially loves it when you soothe him after, lightly kissing each bruise and mark as you whisper sweet words, apologizing for how rough you got.
He takes it with a shy smile, basking in your affections and your gentle touch, sighing as he’s surrounded by your energy, by your undivided attention. 
Sometimes he likes to pretend like you're his, like you're doing this because you love him, not because you think you're being a good friend.
It's not hard for him to imagine it when he closes his eyes, especially when you're moaning around his cock or grabbing his neck to pull him into a desperate kiss.
But when it's all over, when he's pulling his jeans back on -- still thrumming with heat -- the spell breaks and you go back to being just friends.
Now, he's going to pleasure you. Make you feel the euphoria of his mouth, so you'll want him just as much as he wants you. This is his form of reciprocation for all the favors you've given him. And he hopes it will convince you that he'd be a good lover for you. That you could be more than just friends with him.
He lets out a hushed, “Please,” as he leans into you, enticing you to follow him and capture his lips hungrily.
Steven knows exactly what he’s doing when he uses that tone, that soft shade of himself that can bring you to your knees even when he’s falling apart harder and faster than you are. 
You moan against his pouty lips, feeling the softness, his gentle press, you pull him closer, eager to deepen the kiss. He lets you have control over him, merely following you as you slide your tongue against his, delicately tasting you, tenderly holding you by your waist.
Steven is always gentle with you, no matter how clouded his mind gets during these heated moments, no matter how lost in pleasure he gets or how desperately he needs you, he always handles you with delicate care.
You nip at his bottom lip, drinking in his soft mewl as you start to roll your hips against him. His grip on your waist tightens, holding you more insistently against him, letting you feel how desperately he needs you.
His lips are pink and plump when you pull away, parted ever so slightly as he stares between your bodies, working your body over him. His eyes are glazed as he cants his hips to chase the exquisite feeling of your soft center against him.
You tease him, lifting yourself just enough that he can’t grind himself against you. He whines when he can’t feel you anymore, gripping your waist with frustration.
“Love, please!”
You break the kiss and climb off of him, appreciating how ruined he looks from a few kisses and light grinding. He huffs out a breath in frustration, hands fisting with the need to touch you. To have you close.
You stand next to the bed, hair in disarray, fiddling with the hem of your large shirt to garner his attention. His bronze gaze soaks over you, flashing dark when it meets the short hem of your pajama bottoms.
“Your shorts, p-please, take them off.” It’s not a demand, Steven doesn’t make demands, it’s a request, a plea, one that you’ve heard time and time again, and have seldom refused. 
Your fingers find the waistband of your shorts and drag them down until they’re pulled the rest of the way off with the help of gravity. A breathy sigh can be heard under you when you step away from the pooled clothing, leaving you in an oversized t-shirt that barely brushes at the top of your thighs. 
It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time – he’s always like this.
His eyes sparkle as you shuffle closer to the bed. “Come’ere, darling.” He pats his chest, “Right here.” You timidly crawl over him, delicately straddling his chest, legs parted just above his ribs. Your knees pull in towards each other, trying to hide what your shirt can’t cover, but you don’t get far before warm fingers pry you apart. 
“Show me.” It’s a bare whisper, as light as his touch gliding over the outer sides of your legs.
You reluctantly let yourself relax on him, hands gripping his soft shirt, wrinkling the fabric. Heat prickles under your skin as he cranes his neck to look at you, lashes nearly brushing the tops of his cheeks with how lustfully heavy his eyelids are. He takes that moment to breathe you in, devouring every inch of what you’re offering. 
His touch disappears from your thighs, and you hear quiet ruffling behind you, then a broken groan under you. You look over your shoulder and spot his hand pressing desperately against his covered hardness. 
“S-Steven…” He doesn’t stop his actions when he meets your eyes, utterly shameless with his need for you. 
“Beautiful.” 
His breaths become heavy, and his chest moves deliciously under you, right against your hot center. You attempt to squeeze your legs together, hoping to abate the intensifying sensations, but you can’t, his chest keeps you spread, open, and quivering just for his eyes. 
Steven is barely touching you, but even the slightest hint of pleasure has you craving him.
You can’t help but close your eyes as you subtly shift over him, drinking in his soft grunts as he continues to touch himself under you. It makes you throb with heat. 
Steven watches you suck your lip into your mouth to hold in wanton moans as you experimentally slide against his firm chest, hands pressing into him to support your movements.
Your initial timidness crumbles as you roll your hips over him again and your head tilts back as you begin to lose yourself in the way your clit presses so perfectly against him.
Steven’s gentle voice cuts through the carnal fog infesting your brain and pulls you back to reality. “Sit up higher for me.” His hands are back on you, urging you to scoot up. “Let me taste you – L-let me fuck you with my tongue.” You press your dripping center to his shirt-covered torso with a soft moan, feeling the small spot right in between his ribs where you’ve soaked through. “Please, baby?”
You nod wordlessly, letting him guide your body until you’re hovering over his face. Your body shivers as you feel his warm breath brush against your center. 
It’s a bit daunting looking at Steven from here. His face is nestled right in between your thighs – which is not an unusual sight – but this time you are on top. You can barely see his eyes since your shirt is so big it practically drapes over half of his face. What if you suffocate him or break his neck?
“Maybe… we should rethi-” A gasp falls from your lips as strong arms pull you down to his face. “Steven!-” Without hesitation, wet heat laps at the seam of your cunt, greedily dragging over any slick that threatens to drip down your inner thigh. 
Your words are effectively stuck in your throat as Steven begins to eagerly nip and suck at your softness, drawing out deep whines instead of coherent sentences. You can only hold on to the headboard to support yourself, holding back your urge to grind against his supple lips. 
You moan as Steven tentatively nudges against your entrance, laving his tongue over the sensitive opening just to tease you. When he finally pushes into you, you have to hold yourself back from grinding against him like you’re riding his cock. He licks and thrusts his tongue into you, humming at your taste as you drip over his lips, down his chin. 
Your hips uncontrollably buck against him as his tongue flicks at your clit. A hand drops into his hair, tugging frantically at the ends before pushing him further against you, begging – no, demanding for more. He gets the memo and focuses on your most sensitive bud, delicately suckling it until your thighs are trembling by his ears. 
A ball of heat quickly blooms in your lower stomach and flushes under your skin. Familiar sparks of energy thrum up your spine, enticing you to clench around nothingness with promises of unspoken bliss and ecstasy. 
Calloused fingers lift you away from the molten heat of his mouth just as you were reaching your climax. You’re gasping for a breath as Steven holds you back from toppling off the edge. 
You can feel it, his breath, barely ghosting a sigh over your center, and somehow, even that slightest brush of air has you pulsing helplessly over him. He’s breathing as hard as you are, mouth glossy and plump as he stares back up at you, face flushed, and eyes glazed. 
Utterly pussy-drunk. 
Your grip on the headboard tightens intensely and your eyes roll shut. You can’t stop it. 
A stilted cry rips from your throat as your orgasm suddenly rushes over you in full force, crashing over you like a wave. Steven can only watch, lips parted in awe, as you shatter completely untouched right above him.
His fingers grip harsh bruises into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself throb dangerously close to his own euphoric end. You moan harder at the tender marks he paints on your trembling legs. The sharp feeling travels up your legs and straight to your center.
His hands rub your thighs comfortingly, apologetically, before he starts to drag his tongue over your messy center with a hum, doting on you with kitten licks that make you shiver. 
He cleans you up slowly and methodically, making sure to avoid your most sensitive area. Your body still thrums from your unexpected and intense orgasm, and his soft licks quickly become too much, even with how light and sweet he is being. 
You lift yourself away from his tongue, “S-steven…no more. It’s too much!” 
“You can do it again, darling…” He coos, trying to pull you back down onto his mouth. “Just one more. For me, please?” 
You're head is fuzzy as you steady yourself on top of him, gripping the headboard tightly to ground yourself from the lingering sparks of mind-numbing pleasure.
Steven groans as he watches you struggle to get a grip.
“C-can’t. It’s too much…” You get off of his face and sit next to him on the bed, squeezing your legs together to suppress the bout of overstimulation that almost overtook your senses.
You look down at him when one of his hands wraps around your thigh and squeezes, a simple act indulgence that drives you crazy. Your lips part as you take in the view. 
Puffy lips and glassy eyes, blown out with lust, meet your stare, begging you to climb back on, but you're still shaking where you sit. He's drenched in your slick from his chin to his neck and the collar of his shirt is soaked through, sticking sweetly to his chest.
Your eyes drift down to his sweatpants, to the prominent bulge that throbs under your gaze. He palms himself, whining lightly at the feeling of his neediness and desperation. He's so hard, begging for your touch without even saying a word.
“Okay, now it's your turn.”
His shakes his head, “No, I want more.”
“Steven…”
“Please, I want to taste more of you."
"But--" Your eyes dip down to his covered erection that you've been neglecting all night.
"Just...come back, we can do it at the same time if you want.” 
Your face heats at the implication. You don’t know why you’re so coy, you just came right above his fact. You've just never seen Steven like this: so insistent and hungry.
“S-sure, ok.”
You whimper when he eagerly tugs you closer, urging you to straddle his face again. Careful to not knock your knee into his cheek, you swing your leg back over his body, but this time you situate yourself so you can take care of him at the same time.
He immediately dives back in, tongue thrusting into your sensitive channel before you're even settled on top of him. You falter and almost collapse over him, hand grasping at the bottom of his shirt for support.
"Steven! Gentle, please!" You groan out, eyes already threatening to roll back as he continues to drink you in. He hums in response, but doesn't actually let up, if anything, he becomes more insatiable, suckling every stimulus point until you're shaking above him.
You struggle against your pleasure to pull his sweats down, freeing his cock from the restraining fabric. Your mouth waters as his tip weeps for you, spilling silky precum with every breath he takes.
You've always loved Steven's cock. How responsive it is when your breath ghosts over it and how it desperately throbs for you as you swallow around him. How perfectly it fits in your mouth and how deep it can fuck your throat when he allows himself to let go.
Sucking his cock was the furthest you allowed yourself to go. You convinced yourself that these one-sided interactions would keep you from revealing your feelings, that you could deal with the friends-with-benefits bit if you didn't have an actual 'relationship'.
So you deemed actual sex as too intimate and barred letting him touch you (you just weren't sure you could handle it).
But then one thing led to another...
You failed to reject his soft kisses and couldn't resist marking him up like he's yours. And now here you are barely able to handle it as he fucks you with his tongue, hands gripping marks into your thighs as his nose nudges against your wet center.
You don't know if you could go back to just being friends when he's given you unfathomable pleasure. When he talked to you like this. Looked at you like this.
You're a mess and you're struggling to hold on to your original plan.
You try to block these thoughts from your mind as your hand wraps around his cock, squeezing it gently just to get a reaction out of him. He groans against your cunt, movements stuttered as your touch distracts him away from his task.
You unconsciously sit up on your knees and lift your hips off of his mouth to get closer to his cock. Steven barely notices, too focused on holding his orgasm off as you diligently taste him, one lick at a time.
You drag your tongue up his shaft, licking the precum that slowly cascades over his silken skin. You feel his body quake as you lave and kitten lick against his tip, gently coaxing shortened breaths and whimpers with every touch.
You dip down to engulf him into your hot mouth, enjoying the slick feeling of his cock gliding easily against your tongue and the top of your mouth.
His hands frantically latch onto your upper thighs, unintentionally pulling you back onto his mouth as he squeezes at the softness, desperately attempting to control himself.
He has to actively keep his hips from snapping against your face, you just feel so sublime, so soft and hot.
Steven cries against your cunt when he reaches the back of your throat. He can't help it when he feels you struggle to swallow around him, so tight, wet, and hot. He's just so sensitive -- especially when it comes to you.
You keep laving your tongue against the underside of his cock as you suck him in, ignoring the your jaw begins to ache as you open wide for him.
"Uhh!" His stomach tenses under you and he twitches against your tongue.
He can't be cumming already...right?
Fingers grip into your hair and you're suddenly pushed down, forced to take him down your throat. You choke slightly, eyes watering, before letting yourself relax against him.
He's lost in pleasure, grinding and thrusting his cock into your mouth like it's your cunt, shoving it deeper than you're usually comfortable with and you let him.
Steven spurts warmth at the back of your throat. You try your best to swallow it down before it dribbles from your mouth and makes a mess. He whimpers as he fully lets go, thighs tense and trembling under your touch.
He's still cumming when he tugs you back onto his mouth, feverishly lapping through your center before taking your clit between his lips. You orgasm explosively as he avidly sucks you in, already half-way there from the mere feeling of him spilling in your mouth.
Even after he has emptied himself, he continues to gently fuck your face, not yet ready to leave your warmth. His hips stutter and his breaths become uneven but he ignores the overstimulation, too attached to this closeness, to this illusion of mutual affection.
He also continues to lick you clean, despite your whines of discomfort. He lovingly places gentle kisses against your inner thigh, wishing he could stay in this position forever.
He huffs out disappointedly when you climb off of him, even tries to lock his arms around your legs to keep you there, but you were adamant to get away from his insatiable mouth.
"One more?"
You gape at him, "Steven, we already did 'one more'." You shiver, suddenly cold without his body against yours. "What has gotten into you? I've never seen you so...horny before."
He looks at you sheepishly, "I dunno. I guess, once I got a taste I wanted more." He sits up, hand wiping your slick off his face. "How 'bout later?"
"You're already thinking about later?"
He nods, "I'm always thinking about you."
Your heart thumps painfully in your chest as blood heats your face. You try to ignore it. Try not to look directly at him. Try to pretend like he didn't just say that because he probably doesn't even understand the impact that his words have on you.
He's always thinking about your favors. That's it.
"Later, then."
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pandoraslxna · 7 months
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⋆。° ✮ minors dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Kinktober masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: foursome, praise kink, blindfolded, teasing, dirty talk
⋆。° ✮ Translation: sevin = pretty
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"Guess who."
You certainly don’t need sight to tell them apart, in fact, one of the things you love about being with them is how different they are. How lucky could you possibly get, you think, as strong hands grip your jaw lightly until you open up and a thumb swipes over your tongue, dips inside your mouth for you to suck on, before slowly pulling out with a wet pop.
"A-Ao’nung", you whisper, "it’s Ao‘nung."
The cloth covering your eyes is well-woven by skilled fingers you’re very much familiar with, soft, strong, and dyed a dark enough blue that it's nearly black and you’re unable to see. It sits comfortable, despite the tight knot behind your head.
Anticipation flutters through your stomach and chest and your heart beats just a little faster, your breath comes a little quicker as you wait for an answer.
Neteyam chuckles, you know it’s him because the sound of it always sends a chill down your spine.
"Good job, sevin", he praises.
You can feel him circling you even with your eyes closed. The heat from his body radiates out, crossing the space between your bodies to seep into your bare skin. Someone shifts, most likely Ao’nung tracing his place with Neteyam.
It’s hard, not being able to reach out towards him as he stands right in front of you, to thread your fingers through Neteyams hair or tug his mouth down to yours.
Thankfully, he’s the one reaching out to you first. You know it’s him, the hand that cups one of your breasts and caresses your skin with his thumb, running over your nipple until it hardens. You know it’s him, because he’s gentle. His palm is warm and soft and he kneads your breast in a way that’s so lovingly, like he’s worshiping your body in a tender way.
"I know it’s you, Neteyam", you breathe out, your tail swaying a little overly excited behind your back.
But the very moment said hand suddenly pinches your nipple, causing you to gasp as he teases and tugs on the sensitive little nub, you already know that your answer was wrong.
"N-No it’s, it’s Lo‘ak", you blurt out with reddened cheeks, obviously embarrassed that you had fallen into his trap. So typical of him.
All three of them chuckle in unison at this, before Neteyam hums lowly, "Hmh, good girl."
You’re certain that the hand that now runs over the inside of your thigh, gently squeezing your flesh, belonged to him. But you decide to keep your mouth shut this time, afraid this could just be another trap to tease you further.
The sudden brush of his mouth against yours makes you gasp into the kiss and you lean into it, just as Neteyam breaks away, letting a whiny noice of frustration escape your parted lips.
"Neteyam…", you complain softly, pouting a little. And even though you couldn’t see him like this, you knew by the tone of his voice and the quiet clicking of the beads in his braids that he was tilting his head as he asks, "What is it, hm?"
"Don’t you enjoy our little game?", comes from beside him. This has to be Ao’nung, you think to yourself, and right on cue, what must be Lo‘ak chimes in, "She’s so cute like this, bro."
"Stop teasing me…", you whine, barely above a whisper, "please."
"Yeah, she can be adorable if she really wants to." It’s said over your head with a low chuckle, and then a hand reaches out to cup your jaw again. Ao’nungs thumb traces the outline of your bottom lip, and you can’t help the way your tongue immediately darts out to give him a little kitten lick.
"Fine", Neteyam sighs, "We‘ll stop teasing you, sevin. But the blindfold will stay on."
"Huh, w-what? Why?"
"Because we love how flustered you get like this", Lo‘ak chirps gleefully, and the grin on his face can be heard in his voice.
Another hand, this time you really struggle to figure out who it belongs to, then dips between your thighs, cupping your bare cunt to feel for your arousal. You’re hyperaware of the fingers swiping through your folds and you whimper softly when they tease your entrance with fleeting touches.
"Look how wet you already are. This is going to be so much fun..."
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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HSR men walking in on you when you're just out of the shower? Please I need it, it can be fluffy, smutty, whatever you want it be. I found your blog a a few weeks ago and I am addicted to your writing.
That is kind of wholesome? Thank you for reading and loving my writing so much.
Pairing: Blade, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, slightly suggestive, established relationship, teasing, flirting, lots of blushing, kissing
A/N: If you're addicted to my writing at least remember to drink water cause a lot of my posts are thirsty ones.
Blade not being the one to be ashamed or flustered by many things would look at you up and down in quiet appreciation. His smirk widens once he sees you scrambling to cover yourself up with a towel and try your hardest to scold him about coming in here unannounced. It's really hard to take your threats seriously when you're almost fully naked.
Caelus stares at you for a few moments too long before a deep blush takes over and he turns around, but not before throwing his coat over you a little haphazardly. Oh wait... you're naked right now... you know what, you can keep his coat. He apologizes a lot and tries to get out of the room as quick as possible, which is very hard when he has his hands over his face still to prevent you seeing his blush.
Dan Heng will be calm if you're far into your relationship. Before then he will turn around very quickly but lately he's gotten more and more accustomed over seeing you in this state of undress. He will let you get dressed in peace of course but not before he walks over and with a barely audible whisper tells you how pretty you look all wet from the shower and kisses your cheek as he pulls away.
Gepard almost screams when he sees you in such a state. As a knight he knows he shouldn't be looking at you like this, even if you are his girlfriend, he didn't ask to see you like this. You're not mad at him are you? Oh... you don't mind it? Well that's good but he still feels like he needs to do something to apologize. When you get dressed he will do anything you want, and he really does mean anything.
Jing Yuan has seen many people naked but you're the only person he actively wants to stare at all day and never get tired of it. To see you so suddenly was a really nice surprise for him indeed. Its not like he hasn't seen you like this on many occasions before. That being said he doesn't want to pull you on top of him right this moment because you could get sick if you say naked and wet... from the shower that is.
Sampo is as mischievous as he is a gentleman towards you. He has been known to slide his hands under your clothes but that's when you're getting hot and heavy not when he casually walked into your room. He can't help his eyes taking in the beautiful sight for a few moments before he turns with his hands slapped over his crotch. Uh... he needs to take care of this... see you in a little bit.
Welt doesn't really shy away from you when he sees you naked. At the same time he doesn't want you to get sick so he urges you to get dressed really quickly. Weather he will take that clothes off afterwards is up to the two of you of course but he can't deny that he would want to now that he's seen you in this state. What? There's nothing wrong with him getting excited over his girlfriend is there?
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benkeibear · 7 days
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⋆꙳✧༄ Faking an orgasm
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꒰ ͜͡➸ How they react (and punish) you for faking an orgasm
❖ Characters: Geto, Gojo, Toji
❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB
❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), reader getting called "Angel", "bunny", "baby"
❖ A/n: Don't wanna miss a post? Sign up for my taglist in my Navi! || Repost bc community label after 5 seconds
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☰ Geto:
ꕤ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was at the moment
ꕤ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter
ꕤ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act
ꕤ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back
ꕤ You pouted at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head
ꕤ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he didn't believe that fake orgasm
ꕤ Before you were able to explain yourself to him, he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it.”
ꕤ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now
ꕤ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer
ꕤ “Go ahead, dove, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips
ꕤ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted
ꕤ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your weeping cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers
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☰ Gojo:
ꕤ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it
ꕤ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice
ꕤ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked
ꕤ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face
ꕤ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm
ꕤ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release
ꕤ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas you needed him so desperately
ꕤ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but oh so turned on
ꕤ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now
ꕤ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment
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☰ Toji:
ꕤ RIP to your little kitty
ꕤ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after
ꕤ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts so you fake it
ꕤ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandles you into a mating press
ꕤ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper
ꕤ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it
ꕤ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots and it made you lose your mind
ꕤ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as degrading words fell from his lips
ꕤ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful
ꕤ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't even get the satisfaction of being filled
ꕤ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return
ꕤ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”
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Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez
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screampied · 10 days
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Hi :3 ily and your work and I have a request, just lmk what you think..
Gojo bein mean n bratty telling you he knows that you can give better head than you’re giving him (he’s just teasing, of course he’s in love with u, you always give him the best sloppy he’s ever had n he just wants to get you worked up). You’re pouty and know he’s messin with u but u bite back this time, telling him you know he can’t do better and challenge him to suck a strap for u. Up to you if he’s experienced at that or not LMAO. Hopefully that doesn’t count as amab since it’s still fem reader <3
⋆ ᩍ ۪ putting bratty gojo in his place !
cw. fem! reader, brat gojo, praise, hair pulling, dirty talk, sucking your strap, spit, calling him a good boy, mdni. an. thank yew ily2!
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“suck a what?” gojo spats, and he breaks into an utter fit of laughter. you deadpan, you were dead serious, quite annoyed with him thinking everything was so funny. “oh, that . . thing? you don’t think i can?”
you mutter, barely blinking twice. “i know you can’t.”
“…..girl,” he scoffs, with the most dramatic eye roll. gojo briefly licks his lips before shrugging. “you act like what i said was remotely wrong. all i said was that i could go down on you better than you can go down on me,” and he snickers at his own joke, watching you grow more vexed by the second. “aw. don’t look at me like that, baby.”
“prove it then.” you mumble.
gojo scoffs once more. “prove it she says,” he mocks you underneath his breath. “hmph okay, do i just,” and he kneels down. “get on my knees and stick out my tongue while you—”
“uh huh yeah, exactly. you’re a natural,” you utter, watching his bright cerulean irises stare back into yours. he has a tiny pout spread across his lips before he stares straight ahead. you bring a hand towards his face to cup his chin before stroking his lips. “now do what you always tell me to do, open wide.”
“pft,” he grumbles, and his pout was so cute. it stretched across his pink spit-glossed lips before he gives the tip of the strap one brief lick. “maybe after ‘m done you could learn a thing or two from me.”
“less talking more choking, baby.” you ruffle his hair, watching his scowl deepen. his scowl, nonetheless, it was cute. he’d always give you that same pout.
seeing him be on his knees like this, for you . .
it turned you on a little, although you were curious.
as much times as you’ve been in this exact position, taking him down your throat. you one ponder what’d it be like for gojo with a simple faux strap.
gojo gradually lolls his tongue out and starts to make cute kitten licks near the toy.
he’s glaring at you the entire time, white brows forming into a furrow before he starts to feel himself not only grow flustered but grow a bit hard. gojo’s understandably stiff at first, considering how he’s apparently never done this before.
usually that was for you, getting his dick wet with with your tongue and your warm throat. despite it being just a silly toy, he still thought the same. with a huff, he starts to sink his mouth down.
you sat still, running a hand through his tangeled white locks. he was staring at you the entire time, a cute frown on his lips the entire time. he’d finally see what it’d be like whenever you went down on him, in a sense.
he was still a bit sensitive from a few moments ago, just seconds ago—you were doing the same thing, giving him immaculate top. gojo reaches down to touch himself and that’s when you give his hair a light tug. his head yanks forward and he whines.
“hands to yourself, baby.”
“hmph.” he’d grumble, sinking his mouth further down the toy. you watch how sheeny strings of drool seep and pour down the sides of his mouth. gojo was messy—entirely sloppy. you throb a bit, peering at your boyfriend in such a lewd state for you. on his knees for you, he briefly gags once the faux tip prods against the very back of his throat.
such amounts of his saliva started to pour a bit into your thighs, you maintain a grip with his hair before gently moving his head closer. his tongue slowly grazes against the edges before he slips off a moan. “you sure you’ve never done this before?” you tease, and watch as he immediately returns with a cute glare.
it was cute considering how gojo had a gag reflex, every few seconds he’d gag—a cute expression that’s forever entrapped into your memory.
cute cheeks of his flare up and he starts to feel his own dick twitch—he feels his jaw get sore and his tongue swirls against the fake purple colored tip. “. . mhm,” he groans, and once you seem his head starts to bob—you end up pulsating heavily behind your panties. his eyes were now half lidded, he’s all into it and he even departs his lips for a second just to spit on the head. “don’t look at me,” he cutely grumbles, squeezing around the length before wrapping his hand over the slippery strap. he’s so messy, some of his spit even trickling toward your thighs.
“is the pretty brat embarrassed?” you coo, a hand still combing through his white strands. he replies with a glare and you giggle, making him sink back down onto the toy. his eyes close—and he grunts before his cock twitches again, a single twitch in his boxers and he starts to whine again.
every few seconds, he’d break his lips away to breathe—glistening strands of spit leaving from his lips, perfectly decorating the tip with his saturated saliva and he moans once you swipe a thumb against his lip.
“you’re such a good boy, ‘toru. you suck so well, and he pouts again, your praises only fueling the fire ten times more. that’s only then that gojo looks down—feeling an abrupt damp spot soak the inside of his briefs, only to then realize that he totally just creamed his pants. you lift up his chin to look at you, and you hum. “who taught you that, baby?”
“suguru.” he mumbles.
“what?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“what?”
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