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#or pulls it to the side and slightly up while speaking
heyjwi · 2 days
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game over | pjs
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no synopsis just sub nerdy gamer jwi
(i’m going insane bro. i came out of my coma after these pics dropped so enjoy <3) _________________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
it’s a known fact that if jisung was asked ‘games or you’ he’d pick games. he was addicted to sitting at home in front of a screen, wearing his nerdy little glasses and shouting curse words to his friends through his mic.
today , jisung looked way too fine to be left alone. his hair slightly damp from the shower he took a little while ago, and those thick rimmed glasses that suit his face so well. you quietly manoeuvred your way over to his desk and stared down at him blankly.
‘what do you want baby?’ , he whispered, averting his eyes to you then back to his pc. you didn’t speak a word, slowly moving to sit on the floor. jisung smiled awkwardly, oblivious to what would come next.
your hand made its way to rest on his thigh, but jisung just kept talking to his friends through his headset. it was annoying how he could just ignore your presence.
he looked down at you for a split second when he felt your hands rubbing his clothed cock. moving excruciatingly slow. with a soft moan, jisung leaned back into your touch, his cock hardening even more under your hands. his eyes never leave the screen as he focuses on the game.
you chuckled at how eager he was to keep playing, but one thing you do know is that he can never resist you. jisung stopped playing for a second to pull down his sweats, looking down at you before going back to the game.
jisung groaned softly, pushing the mic away from his plush lips as you began to stroke him. he can feel the sensations coursing through his veins, his hips moving rhythmically with your hand, seeking more pleasure.
his moans grow louder now as he reached to mute his mic, which he unknowingly misses since his first instinct was gripping the side of the chair instead. ‘baby go faster fuck.’ jisung breathes out between gasps for air. ‘nd don’t stop... please’, he begs, thrusting his hips forward into your hand when your fingers grip his cock tighter.
you increased the pace of your hands, feeling him shaking in his chair. jisungs hands find yours, guiding them up and down his length as he loses himself in the pleasure you're giving him. jisungs eyes are closed now, sweat trickling down his face from the intensity of the moment.
his headset had already fallen off when you start to hear his friends, the muffled yells and hushes made you chuckle a little.
‘you don’t wanna play anymore ji?’, you whispered, inching closer to him as spurs of cum started leaking out of him.
‘i cant even f-focus..’, he moaned out breathlessly. you moved to lick his leaking cock, looking up at his eyes, his specs now wonky and eyes filled with tears. jisung lets out a strangled cry as you take him into your mouth. his hips jerk upwards, trying to get more of himself to fit inside your warm mouth.
jisungs fingers sink into your hair, holding you close as he feels the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat. his hips buck wildly, fucking your mouth in a desperate search for release. he whines and whimpers, feeling your tongue attacking his sensitive cock, but he just doesn’t want you to stop.
jisungs moans become louder, more desperate as you take him deeper. he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his cock throbbing in your mouth, ‘gonna cum..’ he warns between gasps for air.
you gagged on his cock feeling his hand pushing on the back of your head. as his loud whimpers echo through the room, jisung releases his seed into your mouth. his cock throbs as he pumps hot, salty cum into your throat. he holds onto your hair tightly for support, his entire body shuddering with pleasure.
you pull away, wiping the remains of his cum off of your lips. jisung was slouched in his chair, specs hanging off of his face and his cheeks flushed in a bright pink.
the room fell silent, only sounds of jisungs breathing filling the air, until..
‘bro jisung defo just got the best head of his life’
followed with a few laughs was heard through his headset…
© heyjwi
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idyllic-ghost · 2 days
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I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)
ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭
warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI
Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.
"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.
The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.
"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.
"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."
You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.
"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"
Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.
"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.
"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.
"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."
It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.
"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.
"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.
In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.
"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."
"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."
"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.
His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.
"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."
Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.
"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.
"I like this more," you counter.
He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.
"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."
His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.
"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.
You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.
"Again?" you ask incredulously.
"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.
"It's late, aren't you tired?"
"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.
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artinvain · 2 days
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Abby just wants to fuck you + choking, dacraphylia +smacking+ degradation + squirting xoxo
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚:
abby just wants to spoil you. she gets off on it — it’s that simple, making you laugh and smile makes her chest warm like the sun is shining directly on it. making you moan, yell and cry? jesus the power trip is insane, it makes her pelvis tighten, makes her wanna grind into you and hump you until she’s creaming her boxers.
“that’s it baby, take it, take for me,” she moans swiping her fingers across your wet clit, she’s kissed down your torso, hickies littering over your body, “god baby please,” you beg and her tongue starts sucking on your clit, moaning at the taste and dipping into your hole. she’s grunting and rutting her hips against the bed, her browns furrowed as she holds you down, her mouth licking and sucking at your whole cunt. you grind into her face, bucking and riding it your hands in her hair, tugging and pulling at her braid.
abby’s lathering her fingers in your juices and spit, pushing them into you and laying her cheek against your thigh moaning along with you as her fingers sink deep, your cunt sucking her in. “good god, fuck this pretty pussy‘s so needy for me huh?” abby moans, her shoulders keeping your thighs apart, her other hand coming to rub your clit in circles until your back is arching and you’re clamping up trying to turn over to the side, “daddy- god fuck, so good,” you cry out.
“there’s my girl,” she whines and starts to drill her fingers into you, “love fucking you,” she groans, her fingers impaling you and slapping your clit. “look at you, already crying. fuck you’re pathetic you know that?” abby moans when your pussy clenches down on her finger. “pussy sucking me in, you just wanna get fucked so bad,” she chuckles, pulling her fingers roughly from you with a wet pop and you cry out your thighs trying to tighten and straining against her throng arms between them, she presses kisses to your belly as she twists three thick fingers back into you.
you whine out loud, more tears springing from you at the pressure on your belly from her leaning over you. “ohfuck look at you, my pretty toy cryin’ you want it so bad huh?” she groans biting the skin over your ribs and grunting, her thumb on your clit as you babel “christ fuck — please abs - daddy please!” uou grunt
“yeah you sound so stupid and fucked out f’me, that feel good angel?” abs asks dazed on the feeling of your cunt leaking onto her, your body is tight and your hands are tugging her hair. “yes, daddy, so good,’s’good daddy, thank you thank you,” she keeps fucking her fingers into you loving the sound of your squelching cunt and your pleasure drunk slurring. and then she can feel you leaking down her arm, squirting onto her and she whimpers, feeling her boxers grow wetter and tighter, her swollen clit rubbing against her cock.
abby pops her fingers out watching in awe as you leak and shake before she’s sinking home into you, watching your mouth gape and swearing she can feel you while she watches the way you suck her strap in. abby leans over you, grips your throat with both hands, gently caressing and squeezing she puckers your mouth and kisses there,
“look at me,” she moans when you’re hooded eyes open only slightly, “kiss me, kiss me please-“ you whine and Abby replies with a short sharp smack to your face. crying out, your thighs tremor her fingers tightening slightly on your neck. “say thank you baby,” she moans, snapping her hips into you harder every time you try to speak.
“no thank you?” she asks, her thumb playing with your lips, using the drool to wet them and then smacking your cheek lightly again and again until you’re looking at her, eyes dazed with lust. “thank you, thank you feels so good, thank you daddy, please please,” you babel and she’s not even sure what you could be begging for and honestly neither are you.
“good fucking girl, yes,” abby moans, feeling her hips snap in abandon chasing your highs, she grips your hair, and keeps one hand around your throat, placing kisses to your open mouth, moaning and whining as she fucks you, “good girl, such a good little slut for me, yeah, yeah cum on my cock baby — make me feel good,”
you yell out, your body convulsing as abby pulls you in tight and grinds her hips so her cock is splitting you open, rubbing up against your gspot, her mound rubbing over your club until your biting into her shoulder and cumming around her. “perfect, that’s perfect baby, so good for me,” Abby cooes in your ear “look so pretty when you cum, angel,” you yelp as Abby continues fucking you through your orgasm and as she wipes your tears away, whining at the sight of them, and pulling you close, pressing her weight on you . her hips are relentless as she grunts and whines, kissing and marking your neck.
“fuck you’re the best baby,” abby groans, “making me cum, mm-shit!” the way you’re pulling her in, her hips snapping hard and deep inside you, “just like that sweeetheart, taking me so good,” the overstimulation has spurts wetting your thighs as you cum again and so does abby,” her body shivering as she cums, her hips slowing.
tags: @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz
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evie-sturns · 10 hours
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pathetic - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: after spending the whole day bickering with your boyfriend, the only option he gives you to get yourself off is to use his thigh.
contains: thigh riding, slight humiliation if you squint, desperate!reader, soft!dom matt
———————————- ——————————————-
i stay seated on the arm chair in the living room while matt manspreads on the couch, he’s been ignoring me for the past hour because i “was starting to piss him off”
i cross my legs on the chair as i observe matt, his top teeth slightly sinking into his bottom lip, his arms crossed showing all his tattoos.
his tattoos make me feel a certain way, they turn me on in times like these.
i squeeze my thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief from the ache between my legs
“matt” i say softly, his gaze moves from the tv over to me with a small hum
i toy with the straps of my white tank top, pulling them down to my mid biceps seductively
he instantly looks back at the tv dismissively, i let out a small puff of air frustratedly
“matt” i repeat, my eyes burning into his side profile
he doesn’t respond.
“i need you matt- i need your hands.. anything.” i say, matt looks over at me
“c’mere.” he demands, pointing to the spot infront of him on the floor.
i instantly spring up off the arm chair, speed walking over to the spot infront of matt on the floor, i look down at him on the couch.
“shorts off.” he says, i shimmy my brandy melville shorts down to my ankles before stepping out of them.
“take your tank top off cause you were so desperate to 5 minutes ago.”
i follow his instructions, pulling off my tank top.
i stand fully revealed in front of matt, studying his face carefully.
he pats his right thigh, i hesitate for a second before straddling his thigh.
i feel embarrassed for a second, sitting completely bare on matt’s thigh which is clothed, just like the rest of his body.
he goes back to watching the tv, i go to reach for the waist band of his pyjama pants but he grabs my wrist “nope” he says quietly.
i whine out of embarrassment before slowly starting to rock back and forth on his leg.
“oh fuck-“ i whisper out, placing my hands on his shoulders for support
i repeatedly brush my clit against the fabric of his pants, earning loud whimpers from me.
i flip my head forward, resting on his shoulder as my hair drapes over his chest and neck.
with each rock on his thigh i let out a loud moan “such a fucking slut oh my god.” matt breathes out, almost amused.
my cheeks flush, matt stays looking foward at the tv not paying much attention to me desperately trying to get myself off on his thigh.
i whimper directly into his ear, feeling myself get close
“good girl, let me help you— come all over my thigh” matt speaks before pushing his thigh up, putting more pressure on my clit.
“matt!—“ i call out, squeezing my eyes shut
“so worked up.” he says with a smile, grabbing my hips and pressing me down onto him
“look at you, riding my leg, humping all over my thigh.” matt gently laces his hand into the back of my hair, bringing my head away from his shoulder
he tilts my head down to look at where we meet, his pants which now have a reasonably large damp spot.
my mouth goes slack, matt palms himself with his free hand through his pants, relieving some pressure.
“matt oh my god—“ i whine, my head falling fowards into his chest
matt presses his thigh up again, i let out a loud moan of his name, my nails scratching his shoulders as i feel my orgasm crash over me
all the pleasure i just felt hitting me at once, i arch my back. matt groans at the sight, he can now feel me pulsating on his leg.
i slowly come to a stop, the stimulation becoming too much as i pull back from matt’s chest and lock eyes with him. his cheeks are flushed and he has a small innocent smile on his face.
i’m a panting mess as i glance down between my legs at the mess i made.
“you were wet” he laughs slightly
“me?” i say with a small smirk, pointing down at the very obvious patch that matt’s attempting to cover with his hand
“you’re acting tough when you came in your pants” i tease,
“you’re acting tough like you didn’t just get yourself off on my actual thigh for 10 minutes.” he bites back,
i go to open my mouth again but matt stops me
“you’re acting tough like you weren’t begging me to touch you then ended up resorting to rubbing yourself on my clothes.” he follows up his last comment
i cover my face with my hands “shut up!!” i smile, “go get changed pretty” matt laughs, tapping my hip.
i slowly lift myself off of him, stumbling over to the pile of clothes on the floor.
“sorry about your pants.” i say while redressing myself in the small amount of fabric i had on earlier
“don’t apologise, that shit was so hot.” matt says back, i shake my head with a grin on my face.
i flop back down on the couch next to matt, he reaches a hand out and fixes my messy hair.
just then i hear the door unlock, followed by chris walking inside “sorry guys, gotta piss” he says frantically while jogging over to the stairs with a small glance at us.
“matt why the fuck are your pants so wet did you piss yourself?” he calls out as he runs up the stairs
matt’s eyes widen, his cheeks instantly flushing again
“i spilt water!” he calls out.
——————
hey guys!! i hope you liked this it was really fun to write
also billie’s world tour wtf?? AND NOT COMING TO NZ but it’s okay i’m going to australia im so excited STOP
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
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acewritesfics · 3 days
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Sweetheart | Tommy Shelby 
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x wife!reader
Request: No
Warnings: The word whore being used a few times. A threat made.
Word Count: 640
Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Tommy enters his office and is taken aback to see his wife seated behind his desk, wearing a displeased look on her face. He lights his 6th cigarette for the day and moves to stand near the windows, knowing that whatever is about to unfold cannot be good. Her eyes follow his every move as she remains quiet waiting for him to speak first.
"I suppose I should ask if everything is well, but I have a feeling it would only anger you further," he says, observing her as she stares at him. "So why don't you tell me what I've done wrong so we can sort it out?" 
She continues to scowl at him, saying, "I know you are willing to do anything to get what you want, I just never thought I would have to witness it." 
His expression remains stoic, revealing nothing about what he's thinking or feeling. 
"Imagine now my amazement when I saw every man's favorite whore with her hands all over my husband only to see him do nothing about it. He seemed to be encouraging it." 
Tommy could see the sadness and the hurt in her eyes. He didn't miss the way her voice became strained at the end. It hurt his heart to know that it was his own foolish impulsive acts that caused her feel this way. But he could see she wasn't done talking. He remains silent, knowing that trying to apologise before she finishs would only make matters worse. 
"But instead of simply confronting you, I went and confronted her," she confesses. 
Tommy struggles to conceal his smirk. Y/N's headstrong personality causes her to protect what belongs to her and causes her to make sure people knew where she stands and where they stood. If he could be possessive over her, than so can she when it comes to him. Tommy was hers - him being the father to her three children, her husband and the love of her life - and she wasn't about to let anyone forget it. It's one of the many things Tommy loves about her. 
"Don't worry, she said you merely used her for information. That you flirted a little, got her hopes up, and that was the end of it," Her eyes never leave his while a smirk appears on her lips. She trusted him not to go any farther than flirting. It was the whores she was wary about. Her lover before Tommy was always persuaded by them . When they first started their relationship, she made it clear to Tommy that adultery would not be tolerated. 
"And what did you tell her?" Tommy enquired, slightly amused by her possessiveness. Y/N didn't typically take such action, but he admires that she was willing to confront anyone who threatened their family and marriage, even if it was against a lady of the night. 
"I told her, if she touches you with her filthy little hands again, I'll cut 'em off," she confidently tells him. 
"Sweetheart," he said not bothering to hide the small smirk that's forming, his head shaking side to side. "After all these years, you still surprise me with your words." 
"How else are those whores meant to know I won't tolerate them trying to seduce you?" She wonders aloud as he rounds the desk, standing in front of her. 
He pulls her up from the chair, lifting her to sit on his desk as he stands between her legs. "What if I need information from them? I can't have them scared of me." 
"Then you get someone else to do your dirty work," she tells him. "Preferably someone who isn't married." 
He smiles and kisses her, knowing she's no longer angry at him. "I love you." 
"I love you too," she replies pulling him closer to kiss him again. 
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pvnks0ul · 2 days
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sweet seducing sighs (18+)
๑ werewolf!riri x fem!reader
Sypnosis: Sometimes, on very few occasions, Riri finds herself having a more difficult time falling asleep than usual.. (cont.)
⚠︎: pwop, somnophilia, bdsm themes, tiny bit of dirty talk, use of daddy, dom!riri + sub!reader, ! amateur writing !
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Especially on those days when you needed her so close just to feel like it was safe enough to shut your eyes. You slept so peacefully with her arm locked over your waist, your hands securing the position. The whole thing extremely intimate and leaving all these raunchy thoughts to float around in her head.
Riri can't lie, she doesn't even attempt to fight off her own desire, she hides the selfishness by convincing herself it was all for you. You needed her help and as far as riri was concerned this was an act of selflessness.
She kisses the sharp of your jaw while spreading your legs, one thigh setting ontop of her own. She takes her hand out of your hold and you immediately stir, only to fall calm soon after.
She brings your gown up just over your stomach trailing her hands down the soft flesh there, into your panties. Your clit was already wet and perky, like you were alert to her. Riri leaves the warmth of your core only once to lick at her fingertips before rolling your button over with the prints of her middle & index, until the bud becomes soft and puffy.
A soft whimper escapes through your plump lips. She coos, genuinity sewn into every bit of it. Riri leaves a peck against your slightly chapped lips and continues her game.
She makes sounds to amplify her adorement at every little jerk you made because the only thing she wanted to do was help you find some relief from how stressful it must've been– with you being committed to being so good of a wife– of a girl– for her. Every bit of her attention is directed on you.
Riri sucks in a breath, her mouth watering as your flower started to create that sound she loved. "My good girl.." she speaks territorially as if someone was here to sweep you away, nudging the side of your face and your bonnet, kissing the tip of your ear, she nods and spanks your clit before continuing, "Yeah...My pussy." She breaks as she took her time.
Your toes curl from the rapturous pleasure on your lower half and you shift for the first time, with a whine you attempt to pull your leg down but your wife was too strong.
With a shrug, your leg is fixed back in the position she preferred. She hushes your cries sweetly, "Shh, I got you, m'gon help you feel better, mama.”
You peak an eye open at the sound of your wifes calming voice, attempting to roll your hips into her hand as you clutched your own around her wrist, "Riri?" Your voice is shaky, eyes half lidded as you bit on the inners of your lips.
"Yea, it's me baby." she assures, her hardening bulge pressed nicely against your back incase you needed more proof. Something fiery alights within Riri when your soft gasps reach her ears.
You're left desperately pulling on her arm, begging for more with nothing but pitiful sobs, lazily humping as you tittered over the edge of a climax.
Your wife is completely aware, she knows your close and not just because you told her so —making sure she knew so she could decide if you'd get to cum this round or not. Even when you're half asleep you still acted as her good girl.
She knows because of the frantic quivering in your thigh, you wanted to be pliant but your body had a mind of it's own, wanting to shut around her busy fingers, not ready to give in just yet.
Riri adds in two more digits, her middle and ring, rubbing your poor bud viscously side to side now, she's amused as your frame shook, peaking over your shoulder to find her hand messier than she had anticipated but all it did was drive her to get you dripping endlessly into her palm.
Tears prick your waterline, you can barely see anything at all, just blindly thrusting into the tips of Riris fingers, you were finally there and the filthy hot blaze set in your tummy told you so. You moan guttarly while bucking with all your might, despite how much your hips twitched after, "F–fuck me, Riri!"
She snickers darkly, marking up the back of your neck, "I just did, ma.". Your body feels like it's on fire, you can't think about anything besides the three fingers between your legs and stuck to your core. Riri smirks, "What? You want more?"
Your tears finally trickle down your cheeks but you never answered her question, just whining as your back arched deeply. She continued to strum at your clit, collecting the milky white substance from your entrance and rubbing it over the bud.
When you begin to descend off your thrilling high you're sour to find Riri still playing at your sore and soakend clit, her touches were soft, mindful of your sensitivities but still too much at the moment. You huff, "Please...!" slapping at her hand until she finally takes pity on you and stops.
You sigh, feeling tired out all over again. Riri pulls on your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek with her own before planting sweet kisses leading to the corner of your mouth.
You're ready and waiting for her lips to be on yours but she's stalling, when you nod your head she moves some. You groan, not in the mood for more games.
Riri nearly cracks, so close to laughing in your fucked out face. She bites the urge down, bringing the thumb of her clean hand up to your cheek and stroking the smooth skin there.
She hovers her lips on yours, so close to touching but distancing enough to where she knew you wouldn't feel like reaching, "What do we say, mama?". Her eyes are dark and full of lust as she scales them over your face. Always so quick to remind you of your manners but you really weren't interested in banter when her throbbing dick was pressed so close to your exposed skin.
You zone in on her lips for a bit before finally meeting her deviant gaze, "T–thank you, daddy.."
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🏷️: @s0lam33y @blushyrawrz @ririshotgf @lppriceisright
a/n: me after daydreaming about this specific scenario all day long
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6blackfilin9 · 1 year
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How can u make Odin so cute???? Ur artstyle is amazing
i had no choice i'm afraid
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51 notes · View notes
tonycries · 2 months
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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - G.S.
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Synopsis. He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, wild west! AU, cowboy! Satoru, mayor’s daughter! Reader, Satoru is SO DOWN BAD, angst, kinda slowburn, friends-to-lovers, bartender! Nanami, cunnilingus, oral sex (female + male receiving), unprotected sex, gun violence, pet names (m’lady, my love, + others), tumbleweed bandits, reader and Satoru are both going through stuff, Gege cameo, swearing, author’s daddy issues come out.
Word count. 12.1k (I’m scared)
A/N. You know how hard it was to make this all cowboy-y. Anyway that’s off the bucket list.
Art by @_3aem on X.
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“So, you itchin’ for a beating from me or yer’ wife?”
Glowering down at the drunk old pervert as he waddled away in fear, you sigh as you dust down your heavy skirts. Typical. The sun beats down on your face as you look up at that familiar faded banner.
Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon
The only bar in your little town of Rustcliffe, and by default the only one around for miles. You hated this place - not the saloon, no, the handsome bartender there was always a sweetheart. But at some point, the comfort of your quaint old town had become too comfortable.
But that’s a story for another time. Right now, you were here to drag your father back home - per usual. 
Rolling your eyes at the cacophony of drunken voices carrying from inside, you step through the dust-bitten swinging doors. 
What hits you first is the stench of cheap alcohol, and then the inebriated camaraderie of the men around you. In the dim lighting of the saloon, you squeeze through the crowded tables and make your way to the bar. 
Not a hair out of place, as usual, Nanami lights up when he spots you. “Well, it’s been a while. Here for the mayor again?” he speaks over the boisterous laughs around you. 
You flash him a smile, “Yeah, you know my father. Fraternizin’ with the voters and all that.” you wave off your father’s excuse to come down here. 
“Certainly takes his job very seriously.” Nanami chuckles, “You’ll find him over by the window, in the back.” he points. 
Tipping your head in thanks, you walk the treacherous track to take your animated father home. When you come in view of his table, you find that he wasn’t alone. Damn, it was always harder to convince him to go when with other people.
You know your father has spotted you by his lively laugh and gleeful shouts, “Ah, my daughter! My beautiful daughter! Whatcha doin’ here? Come come! There’s someone I wan’ introduce you to.” 
A smile slips out unintentionally at his almost-endearing pride. You mentally prepare yourself to say some awkward hellos to some of your father’s old drinking buddies before dragging him home. 
Upon reaching your father, he immediately pulls you into a drunken embrace, wrapping his slightly rocky arm around your shoulders. “This is the daughter I was telling ya about! Prettiest girl in town! Hell, maybe even the country, knowin’ ma girl.” he prattles. 
In his jovial state, he abruptly turns to face whoever he was drinking with, unsteady on his two feet. Probably another old geezer, you assume not taking your eyes off your father until you could make sure he won’t collapse on the bar floor for the third time this month.
Finally, you look up. 
Your eyes meet blue. 
Blue, blue summer skies. 
To Satoru, you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you menacingly threatening that creep outside through the window, every word the mayor said went in one ear and he couldn’t even remember if it went out the other. Too entranced. 
And when he introduced you as his daughter? Shit, it might just be fate.
“C’mon now boy! Cat got yer’ tongue? What happened to that sharp mouth of yours?”
The booming voice of your father snaps Satoru out of his captivation. Damn, he must’ve been staring for too long. 
Mentally praying you weren’t spooked by his speechlessness, he finally speaks, voice slightly shaky at your presence, “Ah- Good day m’lady. Apologies for my impoliteness, the name’s Satoru Gojo.” he tips his crisp white hat. Gently grasping your hand in his, he places a delicate kiss, looking up at you as he awaits your response.
You gaze, slightly awe-struck, at his ethereally beautiful white locks and the impish grin from where he held your hand. His lips were so soft.
“Oh!” you startle at the clap of your father’s hand on your shoulder. Shit, you were definitely staring too long.  Rushing to introduce yourself, you quickly interject a “Nice to meet you, Satoru” before your father starts leading the conversation once more.
“Satoru here is a traveler, arrived jus’ today! Told him people like us could never, I mean imagine, right?” he slurs. 
Your ears perk up at this piece of information, “Oh? Are you really a traveler, Satoru? How admirable.” you gush, previous bashfulness forgotten. Was that…a blush spreading across his face? Couldn’t be - your town's whiskey was known to give people rosy cheeks on occasion.
“Thank you, m’lady. It’s nothing special really, jus’ staying here a while.” he barely gets the words out before you father bellows a tangent - “Don’ be shy, boy! How wondrous traveling is, kids these days could use some toughening up!”
Both of you rush to catch your father as he sways with a passion seen only during election rallies. It takes the two of you to steady the man. As he continues babbling half-lucidly, you cock your head sweetly at Satoru, “Help me take him outside?” 
Satoru thinks his knees might give out then and there.
The air is chilly by the time the three of you step outside, sun making its way below the horizon. Despite your father’s protests that he can ride home on his own, he knocks out as soon as Satoru gracefully mounts him on his horse. Carefully saddling behind him, you try to make sure your father doesn’t fall off of Satoru’s beautiful white Quarter horse.
“You really don’t have to escort us home, Satoru. My ol’ man wouldn’t even feel it if he fell, I swear.” you insist as Satoru holds onto the reins from the ground, feeling bad for bothering him.
“It’s no trouble. After all, Gege seems to like him very much, hm?” Satoru remarks as he turns to his stallion, who attempts to bite him in response, “Can’t say the same for myself.”
“Hmm, how can I be sure yer’ not a serial killer?” you tease, reveling in the sharp laugh it draws from him.
“You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me, m’lady.” he hums, eyes sparkling with mirth. There’s a lull in the conversation as Satoru pulls on the reins to start walking you down the road, the rhythmic clip-clop! of the horse filling the still air.
“So you travel?”
“This is a nice town.”
Both of you speak at once, anxious to fill the silence, only to sputter self-consciously.
“You can-”
“No no, it’s only customary for a lady to go first.” he hums, looking up at you. 
“Tell me stories of your travels.” you breathe out, eager for any crumb of escape from your little town. 
As you made your way home to the sprawling family ranch, the night adorned itself with twinkling stars that matched the mischievous glint in Satoru’s eyes as he told you bizarre tales from his life on the road. 
“IN MY DEFENSE, it was dark an’ that tumbleweed was shaped suspiciously like a lowly bandit. Hey- don’t laugh- it was a very heated standoff!” Satoru exclaims animatedly as you cackle. 
“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, cowboy. Even bandits woulda run away from your clownery.” delighted at the way the moonlight illuminates the blush that tinges his ears. 
Making a fool of himself, Satoru’s stories have you laughing until your cheeks hurt, wishing you could experience them too. You almost forget about your father’s deafening snores and the bite of the wind. 
But Satoru does not. Brows furrowing as he catches your slight shiver, he mentally berates himself for forgetting his manners. How dare he let a lady suffer the cold while he still had his fuckin’ coat! What a sorry excuse for a cowboy, this is worse than that time he accidentally lassoed a rattlesnake.
Hastily shrugging his coat off, he passes it to you with a sheepish smile on his face. 
Face heating up against the cold draft, you breathe in the smell of pine, amber, and something so Satoru. Clearly not as affected as you are, Satoru launches back into his stories.
If Satoru thought his knees were going to give out before then he knows they’re about to now. He aims to keep his eyes steadfast on the road as he recalls his endeavors, because he’s aware that even one glance at you all wrapped up in his coat wouldn’t be too good for him.
Making out the warm lights in the distance, his heart falls as he realizes his time with you is drawing to an end. You seem to share similar sentiments, as you sigh silently.
Once again, a silence falls upon you two (well, three if your slumbering father counted) - but this time, it was serene. You could almost drift to sleep if it wasn’t for your mother’s frantic calls for you from the front porch. 
“Oh, darlin’, I was so worried! I didn’t think it would be so late out!” she frets as Satoru helps you get down from his horse. Hands on your waist searing into your skin. 
Clearly awoken due to the commotion, your dad stumbles his way down and towards your red brick villa. 
“Ah, honey! I’m home…somehow…you know, I met the most interesting fella Something-toru. A wanderer, real interesting.” turning comically to Satoru, he exclaims in delight “Something-toru! How didya get ‘ere?” 
Stifling his laughs, Satoru backs away, claiming he had to leave before your father roped him into more rounds of drinks. Which clearly didn’t work because your mother approaches him, “Stay, Satoru, stay! Can’t have you sleepin’ underneath some tree when you escorted our darling daughter all the way out here.”
Any refusals are immediately blocked out by your very inebriated father yelling out in agreement, claiming he wanted to listen to more of Satoru’s “funny lil’ stories”. Your parents head inside - well, more like your mother heads inside with your father in tow - having taken his speechlessness for agreement.
As you follow, you turn to Satoru, a strange part of you gleeful at the fact you won’t have to part with him for now. “We’ve got an extra room, and it’s got yer’ name on it. The stablehand will stall Gege, c’mon, it’ll be a lot better than the ground.” you grin.
“Hey! The ground can be very comfortable.” Satoru declares defensively, yet follows you inside anyway.
It’s only rushed goodbyes and promises to talk tomorrow morning as the housemaids fuss around Satoru. “Goodnight m’lady.” he’d winked as your head housekeeper clutched her pearls at his dirty boots on her recently polished hardwood floors.
That night, as you lay in your childhood bed, you realize that you still have Satoru’s coat on. Whether from his coat or something else entirely that you did not want to explore, you felt so warm inside.
---
Morning dawns with the symphony of the Western meadowlark that nudges you gently awake - usually. Today, it’s abruptly shattered as the door bursts open and someone barges into your room. Judging by the thud of hefty boots, you knew very well who it was. 
“Rise n’ shine, m’lady!” Satoru’s voice - way too cheerful for six in the morning - chirps out. 
It’s been a few days since Satoru has been staying with you. Now more a friend than a guest, you expect he’s come to wake you up for a morning ride with Gege, watching the sun rise as you exchange silly banter. But it’s so early…
“What do you want, Something-toru.” you grumble out from in-between your comfy covers. You secretly delight at his whines of “How dare you not remember my name, I even told you about the rattlesnake lasso!” 
The warmth of your bed and the melody of Satoru’s voice has you sluggishly falling back asleep - that’s before he promptly sits on your bed. The force of it bouncing you both, making you sit up with a laugh.
Satoru was on your bed.
Satoru was on your bed. Shit, after what your father told him this morning, he wouldn’t blame you if you kicked him out with a punch to his pretty nose right this second. Mentally slapping himself a million times over, he hurriedly gets out the reason he was sent in to wake you up in the first place, “Ah- Um, the mayor is meeting with…someone important, wanted you to come down and meet him. Well, if tha’s all then I’ll be going, Gege won’t brush himself, sadly.”
And before you could get another word out, he’s swiftly out the door. 
Satoru was on your bed. Your cheeks slightly heat up as you realize you didn’t mind?
His words ring in your ears as you get ready for the day - if it was someone important, then you might as well dress to impress. Impress someone else too. Shaking off these strange thoughts from your mind, you make your way downstairs, nose wrinkling at the smell of tobacco that greets you.
You’ve always hated the stench of the overpriced tobacco your father brings out to impress guests. “There she is! My daughter!” your father smiles, beckoning you over. “There’s someone who’s here to see you.” 
Grimacing at the cloud of smoke, you take a seat on the plush sofa beside your father. He gestures at the man seated in front of him, “This here is Naoya.”
Despite his sharply handsome features, you shift uncomfortably at the way he watches you like a predator appraising his prey, eyes following your every movement. Apparently approving of what he saw, his lips curl into a smirk, “Your future husband.” he says saccharinely sweet.
What the fuck?
“Father?” you panickedly turn to him for answers, voice strained at your attempt to keep it even. But your father merely guffaws out a laugh, “Well well, nothing confirmed just yet. But you know with the way things are going with the re-election, might as well get to know a suitor and...” his voice trails off as he takes another puff of his cigar. 
“My apologies sir, I refuse.” you drone out, looking straight at Naoya. You don’t miss the way his smirk grows leeringly as he mutters “You don’t have too much of a say in this matter, sweetcheeks.”  The audacity.
Apparently your father doesn’t hear, a more grave expression taking over his face, “Now I’ve talked with Naoya, you’re of marriageable age. And as young as I feel, I won’t be around forever. You need someone to take care of you, dear. We’ve talked about this.” 
Tears prick at your eyes as you abruptly stand up, disturbing the smoke around you. “I can take care of myself.” you spit out venomously, storming your way to the heavy front door in an attempt to run away from this situation.
In the dim sunlight filtering through the curtains, Naoya watches in amusement as you stomp out of the room. Hilarious, the feisty ones were always the best. 
Over the mayor’s ramble of apologies, he grins “No don’t worry about that. She’ll be mine either way.”
The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as you slam it shut, echoing your frustration. The brisk air is a temporary relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside.
“Talked about this” your ass. Every conversation - if you can even call them that - was a heated warning about being married off before you end up a spinster. You couldn’t care less about ending up alone if it didn’t mean living life with a man that talked to you like that.
Your thoughts block out the crunch of the gravel beneath your boots as your feet subconsciously lead you to the stables, where you used to play hide-and-seek as a kid. More recently, though, it has become an escape from conversations like these. 
Approaching its familiar wooden doors, you catch a glimpse of Satoru, back turned and meticulously grooming Gege.
Sensing your presence, he turns with an easy smile that quickly fades as he notices the deep furrow of your brows. “Hey there, m’lady. Everything alrigh’?” cerulean eyes flit across your face worriedly.
“Oh yeah, everything’s great. Just got introduced to my absolute asshat of a future husband.” as if Satoru’s concerned expression makes something in you snap, the words tumble out along with your tears.
“I don’t even- The way he looked at me- Can you even believe?”
Satoru was about to rip apart whoever this load of horse manure was that made tears streak down your pretty face. Throwing his brush down - which Gege didn’t quite appreciate - he quickly envelopes you in his arms, letting you muffle your sobs.
“Hey hey. It’ll be alright, we’ll work something out. I promise, m’lady.” he consoles. 
Eventually, as your cries die down, you look up to see the rising sun casting a soft glow on Satoru’s features, illuminating the sincerity in his gaze.
The determined glint in his eyes emboldens you, “Yer’ right, I will not be forced into a marriage, especially with someone like Naoya. I’m not anyone’s property.”
A subtle warmth is present in Satoru’s gaze as he utters, “Tha’s my girl.” before reeling back and backtracking immediately, “Ah! I mean- good for you m’lady. Naoya ain’t the one. Anyway, tell me about this ‘asshat’.”
You raise a brow teasingly at his rapid change of demeanor, before plopping down on the hay, launching into your first impression of Naoya and why the rumors downtown of him making babies cry were probably true. 
The sun shines high in the sky as you lay there in peaceful silence, only to be broken by the doubt weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m scared.” you admit.
Satoru turns from his place beside you from the hay, “It’s alright, you got Gege and myself beside you. If Naoya ain’t the one then he ain’t the one.” 
Your eyes meet his twinkling gaze, “Yeah, he’s not the one.”
The air grows charged with something unspoken as the silence stretches out. Satoru can feel the tips of his ears burning at your words - stop it Satoru, she didn’t mean anything by it. As always, he retreats into humor to break the crackling silence. 
“I’d help you hide the body, y’know. Then you can have a shotgun wedding with whoever you want to share your days with.”
“Oh yeah? What if he turns out just like that asshat?” you challenge. 
“Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away with me. Fightin’ tumbleweeds together.” Satoru makes light of the situation, in an attempt to etch that beautiful smile on your face once more. It works, as you throw your head back and laugh.
“Yeah, I’d love that.” you get out in-between giggles. 
If someone looked at you like Satoru did, you probably wouldn’t mind marrying them. A voice whispers in the back of your mind, sending your brows furrowing once again.
Meanwhile, Satoru finally had a name for your future not-husband - Naoya.
Urgently getting up and removing the hay stuck to your clothes once you hear your housemaids calling for you, you leave Satoru with a grateful smile that had him swooning out loud immediately after the stable door shut - to the very visible judgment of Gege.
It felt like a knife in his chest when the mayor tittered secretly to him about your future husband this morning, thoughts of you getting married plaguing his mind all morning. Well, if you were happy then it’s fine, isn’t it? 
He was halfway through imagining you in a beautiful dress of white when you’d arrived with a cloudy expression covering your gorgeous features. If Satoru had thought hearing about your fiancé was like being stabbed, then the despair on your face made him feel like he was completely cleaved in half. 
You deserve someone that deserves you. Probably not him. Certainly not Naoya.
Walking back to the house to fetch his riding gloves, he’s lost in the thoughts of standing off against a faceless man calling himself your husband when he bumps into somebody.
“My apolog- Asshat?” Satoru blurts out at the man testily raising a brow at him.
“Excuse you, barn boy?” he fumes, at the nickname that slips by. Ah, he’s done it now. Lips tweaking into a forced smile, Satoru grits out, “Ah, apologies, sir. Cowboy tendencies.”
The air is tense as Naoya mutters, “Keep those to yourself.” He moves to walk past Satoru, before stopping close enough to utter words meant for only him to hear, “And stay away from my future bride. I saw the hay on her skirt, yer’ insane to think you’d have a chance, barn boy. Go back to wanderin’ around.”
Satoru stands rooted to the spot as Naoya walks off, too many emotions he can’t name whirling inside him. That morning, he stalks off for his longest ride since arriving at Rustcliffe - not coming back with Gege until well after midnight. 
---
To Satoru, long rides always mean interesting dreams. Right now he was in a tap-dancing competition against a one-eyed alligator who looked suspiciously like your father. It’s a shame - he was winning too - that the competition is suddenly crashed by an angel calling for him. 
“Satoru…Satoru!” 
An angel that sounded like…you?
“Satoru if you don’t wake up I’m feedin’ your boots to Gege.”
His eyes shoot open, yet his sleep-addled brain still struggles to process you standing over his bed, soft hands shaking his bare shoulders lightly. “Angel?” he rasps out. 
You huff out a laugh, “No, I’m here to drag you to hell - or close enough at least.”
Face burning at already making a fool of himself before noon, he sits up in bed, blanket sliding off to reveal his toned upper-half.
Shit, it should be illegal to casually have a body like that. 
Trying your best to avert your eyes from the dips and curves of his sculpted body, you continue, “My father’s holdin’ Rustcliffe’s annual Harvest Hoedown in a few weeks, the whole town’s gonna be there. You made it just in time for some dancing lessons.”
“What makes you think I need dancing lessons?” Satoru raises a brow playfully. You take a brief moment to admire the way his sleep-tousled hair curtains his alluring eyes, before replying in an ominous tone, “I need dancing lessons.”
Wow, you really did need dancing lessons, Satoru notes as he stifles a laugh when you step on the poor instructor’s foot for the fifth time this afternoon. 
Locked in the stuffy studio, he recalls the way your father demanded that you not step one foot outside until you mastered the upbeat waltz for the hoedown - putting Satoru in charge of making sure you don’t slip away. “It’s stupid really, he’s never had a problem with me sitting out before. All because that asshat will be there…” you’d muttered hotly on the way.
Ah yes, that asshat. Sleep weighs heavily on Satoru’s eyes from riding all night long, yet his words still ring painfully in his ears. Who did he even think he was to have a chance with you? 
Well, it’s alright, Satoru will be out of this town in a few months, and you’ll marry some man of your choice that could give you everything you could ever want.
The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his overthinking tirade is the abrupt pause of the music and the heavy sigh the dance instructor lets out - clearly having taken a break for his own sake rather than yours. You shuffle sheepishly across the polished floor to where Satoru stands, “Was it worse than you thought?” you grimace.
“Well, you always do find a way to surprise me, m’lady” he teases, chuckling at your dramatic groan. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the instructor rushing outside for a smoke. Hopefully not because of your dancing…
You scoff in defense as Satoru’s cackles grow louder - having thought the same thing. “Well, I’m sure the great Something-toru is much better on his feet.”
Instead of retorting, he steps one heavy boot onto the waxy dance floor, holding out a hand expectantly. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”
“But, there’s no music?” you raise a brow, yet you place your hand in his much larger ones. Soft, his hands were surprisingly soft. And so warm.
“Did I mention I was a great singer too?” he grins, a small dimple at the corner of his mouth as he pulls you closer. 
Shit, it was way too hot to be cooped up in a dance studio. Or maybe it was just Satoru’s hand around your waist, making your skin burn through your heavy skirts. They flow around you as he glides you gently across the floor. 
You train your eyes steadily on your feet - partly out of necessity, and partly out of fear of meeting Satoru’s intense gaze.
The only sounds filling the small studio were the squeaks of your boots and Satoru’s soft humming of a nonexistent tune. It was beautiful, his voice. It reminded you of calm summer days. 
“Ah- sorry!” you panic as you step on his toe, only for him to pause his melody and huff out a laugh.
“Step on them as much as you want, m’boots are thick.”
You’re sure he meant this only to bate your embarrassment, but something about his words and the warm endearment in his gaze have your cheeks heating up. You focus on your steps in silence as he guides you patiently, tenderly.
Pride grows in your chest as you start stepping on his boots every six steps instead of two. Satoru seems to have noticed too, “Hey! You’ve improved, m’lady.” he whispers, as if afraid to break the stillness in that humid room as you two continue your silent dance. 
Loud clapping from the doorway makes you two jump apart, shattering the serene bubble you’ve found refuge in. “Brilliant! I thought I’d come across my first hopeless case, yet you’ve worked absolute wonders Mr. Satoru!”
Your escape is quick, you urgently drag Satoru out the door before he can be forcibly recruited as a dance teacher. 
You heave out a sigh of relief at your freedom from the treacherous clutches of the dance studio. Merciless sunlight stinging your face, you begin to make your way through the dusty hustle and bustle of Rustcliffe in the afternoon. 
Now, all you had to do was avoid bumping into your father for the rest of the day and you should be fine!
Speed-walking by Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, you’re confused when you’re faced with a few more drunken stares than usual. Surely your new skirt can’t be that flattering?
With a jolt, you realize you’re still grasping Satoru’s warm hand in his. Dropping it as if it burned, your cheeks heat up at the mirth on his features. “Not that I’m complainin,” he grins, “but warn a guy next time you manhandle him. S’not good for the heart, m’lady.”
Rolling your eyes at his joke, you begin pointing out the things to see as you walk the familiar old roads of Rustcliffe, detailing the town gossip.
It really was not good for his heart, Satoru was sure he’ll drop dead very soon one of these days because of you. 
He couldn’t rip his eyes off of you as you animatedly talked about granny Wei wrestling Mrs. Davidson for her secret brownie recipe. 
Shit, he was really getting in too deep.
Night falls fast, a deep shade of blue. 
Saying your goodbyes to Nanami at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon - at a time you knew your father wouldn’t be around - your heart swells as Satoru excitedly rambles about “Good ol’ Nanamin! What a chip off the old block, we became fast friends y’know?”
You didn’t expect your mission to avoid your father to turn into an impromptu Rustcliffe tour. But watching Satoru’s face light up as you told him silly little stories of your childhood, you wouldn’t have changed it one bit. 
Sent off with a cheery “Come back soon deary!”, you’re exhausted by the time you say all your goodbyes to the people of the town.
“You’re loved, y’know?” Satoru speaks up out of nowhere as you steady yourself behind him on the saddle. 
“Hm?” you ask, fatigued from spending the day walking around town. A large hand caresses your cheek to rest your head against his back, tightening your arms around his waist.
Lightly snapping the reins, he repeats, “You’re loved.” 
You drift on his words gently to sleep, the clip-clop! of the horse matching the deafening beat of your heart against your ribcage. If only you could be like this forever.
SLAM! 
You wake up with a start, only to find yourself…hovering? Surely there must be a valid explanation - you really didn’t feel like doing an exorcism right now.
It takes a while of your nonsense to realize you’re being carried by strong arms supporting your back and legs. 
“S-Satoru?” you ask blearily. 
“Shhh, forgive me, m’lady. Didn’t think that damn door would be so loud.” he responds, bed creaking under his weight as he softly sets you down. 
Smiling down at your incoherent mumbles, he whispers softly “It’s alrigh’, you can rest now. Goodnight m’lady.”
Struggling to rip his gaze from your gracefully sleep-addled one, it’s only the thought of someone in the house catching him in this position that makes him stand up. 
A hand - uncharacteristically swift - grasps his wrist, stopping his tip-toeing to the door. “Satoru…” your groggy call of his name sends shivers down his spine. Hesitatingly following the gentle pull of your hand, he kneels beside your bed.
“Yes, m’lady?” he breathes.
You surge forward, sleep hazing the practical side of your mind. Acting on pure instinct, your soft lips meet his. 
Satoru freezes in surprise as a beat passes. One. Two.
He stays in the same position when you flop back onto your pillow, soft snores filling the otherwise pin-drop silence. His lips burn as he brings up a hand to touch them in disbelief, stifling an euphoric laugh.
You startle awake in the middle of the night, after some questionable dream about Satoru carrying you to the bed and you kissing him.  
Imagine. Ha! 
Settling back into where you were carefully tucked into bed, you snuggle the warm coat at your side. 
Wait. Shit.
---
If either of you remembered what happened that night, neither of you mentioned it. 
Oftentimes, you questioned whether it was a dream. The only thing keeping you from fully believing so being the intensity in Satoru’s stare whenever his eyes briefly flickered to your lips and the hasty retreats whenever it seemed like you would bring up the topic. 
But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?
In fear of messing up the comfortable camaraderie you two had, you continued this magnetic dance of normalcy. But honestly could you really consider it “normal” if each gaze was charged with something neither of you could describe?
But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?
You could only imagine the worst.
Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.  Well, probably a bit below heaven, because - ideally - there you’d be his wife and Gege would actually like him. 
It’s alright, even if just for a sleep-hazed second, he was yours. And he didn’t want to hear you apologize for it.
Still riding the euphoria of that brief kiss, he goes about life as usual, sure that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels.
---
“WELCOME ALL TO RUSTCLIFFE ANNUAL HARVEST HOEDOWN! WE GOT HARVEST, WE GOT HORSES, WE GOT SOME HOE- Oh- what? yes, dear that was on my script…” your father’s voice bellows across town from the loudspeaker. 
You breathe in the warm, candy-scented air, fairy lights illuminating the colorful stalls selling everything from candied apples to binoculars (“Spy On Your Neighbors Without Worry!”). 
Place ringing with the bustle and chatter of the town, you think it feels like something out of a picture book.
A warm smile finds its way onto your face, you’ve loved the Harvest Hoedown since you were a kid. Here, you can forget the longing for something more, the rows at home about your looming engagement, and most of all - you can almost forget Satoru.
Ever since that kiss, you’ve found it hard to face him. Sure, the banter and half-joking schemes to murder Naoya are the same. But your heart clenches every time he looks at you with a tender melancholy, losing the words to apologize for taking advantage of his kindness.
“Come come! It’s startin’!” you hear gleefully from your left. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re pulled into a circle of bodies dancing to an upbeat tune. 
Laughter bubbling out of you as you lose yourself in the song, you turn to your right and see…your dance instructor, who is very visibly (and audibly) praying for his feet. Dramatic. You’ve learned a lot recently with Satoru’s help.
Oh, there he is again. For someone that leaves place so swiftly, he sure is set on living permanently in your mind.
Hidden amongst the audience, Satoru cackles at the distress on Mr. Dance Instructor’s face. Little did he know, with a bit of Satoru’s magic you’ve improved - stepping on his toes only once every fifteen steps! 
He was so proud of his girl.
Ah, except you’re not. You’re so much more. And he’s reminded of that every time you averted your eyes from his during dance lessons, the proximity of your bodies doing nothing for how out of reach you felt to him. 
He rips his gaze from you, walking away from the growing crowd. Where was that damn drinks table again?
It’s past twelve as the townsfolk start pairing up for the hoedown couples dancing. You’ve usually sat this one out, not one for the complicated steps nor the intimacy.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spy your parents waltzing in their own world. How nice it must be. Your supposed asshat of a dance partner was over by the drinks talking with some men, barely looking your way.
Guess the dance lessons were for nothing. Frustrated and slightly tipsy, you move to make your way off the dance floor. 
Suddenly, a large hand blocks your view of the exit. Who the- 
Satoru.
Ears tinged a pretty red, and eyes slightly dazed, he hiccups over the rich music “Would you- dance with me, m’lady?”
Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the way his face flushed your favorite delicate pink - but you slide your hand into his warm one, “I’d be honored to, Satoru.” 
A strong arm pulling you flush against his body, faces only inches apart. His hot breath fans you as Satoru murmurs, “Looked s’beautiful tonight. Best dancer in town I’d say.”
“Only cuz’ of you, Satoru.” you chuckle at his genuine tone as he steers you across the dance floor. Feet in perfect sync, the waltz fades into the background as you look into his tired eyes. 
“Nah, tha’s all you, m’lady. I’m nothing much.” he grins morosely. 
Your brows furrow at his words, clearly something was wrong. And this wasn’t the place to talk about it. “Come with me.” you utter, pulling him along with you to a place you knew he’d love. 
Little ol’ Rustcliffe wasn’t called that for nothing. 
The air is tense, the chatter of crickets fill the silence between you two as you guide him to your haven, hand still tightly in his. It’s a steep walk uphill from the outskirts of town, a place you’d stumbled upon during one dashing attempt to escape from this town as a tween.
“Finally here.” you exhale as you reach your destination, fireflies lighting the way. 
“Hah- If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were tryin’ to murder-” Satoru’s voice dies in his throat as he drinks in the view before him. 
The twinkling lights of the entire town of Rustcliffe reflect in his eyes like constellations. Townsfolk barely discernible from this distance, yet the soft jovial music carried over. It was beautiful. 
Satoru looks at you in awe as you lay down on the ground and point upwards, “Tha’s not all, cowboy.”
Quickly getting on the ground beside you - albeit at a safe distance - his mouth gapes wider at the perfect carpet of stars above him. A celestial version of what he saw below. He turns his head to see you bathed in the moonlight. This place was beautiful.
“Satoru, are we okay?‘ you voice out in concern. He’s taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. You cut off his scramble to make a joke, “I’m serious. Please talk to me.”
He can never win against you.
Heaving out a sigh, “Maybe. Who knows. But whatever it is, please don’t apologize for that kiss, let me have it.”
Now it’s your turn to be surprised, “Let you have it? Satoru, why wouldn’t you have it?” 
“M’lady, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re like fireworks. Captivating and fierce. That kiss was a mistake, and soon enough you’ll find a rich, handsome-”
“I only want you.”
“I’m leaving soon.” he retorts. 
“I only want you.” you repeat, stubbornly.
“I’m leaving m’lady.” he argues.
“No- Satoru-”
“And I’m childish. I’m insecure. I’ll never be able to provide for you the way you deserve.” he plows on, emotion cracking his voice.
“Satoru, I love you.” you breathe out. 
Satoru’s breath catches in his throat, the silence was deafening. “What was that?” he turns, voice quiet with disbelief.
“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, cowboy, but you’re like blue summer skies. And I just so happen to love blue summer skies.” you huff out, finally understanding the reason for his behavior these past few weeks. 
“I don’t expect a huge mansion, or some enormous ranch, or even a cowboy that knows the difference between a lasso and a rattlesnake. I just don’t want anyone else, Satoru.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes.”
“And…you’re sure? Really sure?”
“Yes.”
Silence punctures your conversation once more, broken only by a loud cackle. You turn in disbelief at his change in demeanor, “All cheered up now, Satoru?”
“Why would you have feelings for me? Was it the tumbleweed story that did it for you?” he gets out through laughs. It was contagious, and soon enough you yourself joined him, clutching your stomach.
In the thoughtful silence that follows, you find yourself inching closer to him until your faces are mere centimeters apart. “Blue summer skies and fireworks don’t go too well together.” he breathes. 
“We’ll make something work out, remember?” you hum. 
Your first kiss with Satoru was a sleep-addled mistake. 
The second was when his lips capture yours as if they were the source of life itself. 
Rolling on top of you, he’s careful to not rest his full weight as his lips don’t leave you, tongue caressing yours. Satoru tastes sweet - like hard candy and your father’s bottle of Baileys. Pulling away a hair's breadth, he whispers against your lips, “Let me be yours?”
“You probably say this to all the girls, hm?” you tease him, as revenge for making you wait so long. He softly bites your lips in retaliation, relishing in your drawn-out whine. “Yes, fine. If only you’ll let me be yours.”
Clearly approving of your answer, he continues his dance with your lips. Barely parting to breathe, as if it hurt to leave you.
And it did. A low groan sounds from the back of his throat as Satoru kisses you with the desperation from these past few weeks. His hands stayed firmly cupping your face, as if scared to move elsewhere. Yours, however, was wandering the expanse of his back, and it was driving him insane. 
“M’lady…” he breathes out at the feeling of your legs wrapping around his hips, a warning. 
You knew where this was going and you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything so bad. “Satoru, I need you.” you mutter, words punctuated by pecks to his swollen lips. 
Maybe that’s the trigger that sets him off. It’s not long before Satoru is kissing you again. Pinning down your arms with one hand, he rolls his hips into yours. You gasp as you feel the outline of his hard cock straining against his trousers. 
He was so big.
Your pussy drips with anticipation and fear of what was about to come. 
Satoru thinks he might be getting whiplash, how was it that an hour ago he was moping in his loneliness and now he’s got you underneath him? Silently thanking whoever was up there, he wanders a hand down your body. Fingers trailing teasingly above where you wanted him the most.
“Tell me what you want, m’lady.” he rasps. Now Satoru is sure he’s getting whiplash when you grind your hips up into his hand, whining “Need you- on me.”
Skirts hastily pushed up, Satoru shuffles so his face is right hovering right above your pulsing core. In the cool moonlight, he can see the way you get wetter at each hot breath on your cunt. “Please Satoru.” 
You were not good for his heart. Surging forward so he’s nose-deep in your pussy, Satoru’s tongue flattens against your swollen folds. His eyes roll to the back of his at your taste. You tasted better than the candy at the hoedown.
Your desperate whines for more send blood rushing to his cock, twitching achingly against his trousers. Leisurely dipping between your folds, he watches with blown-out eyes as you grind your hips deeper into his face, keeping a firm grip on his soft locks. Using him.
Shit, if this was your reaction to him teasing you…
Your whimpers of pleasure and lewd squelches of your cunt  fill the night air as he plunges his tongue inside your clenching hole, fucking you at a merciless rhythm. His brows furrow as his tongue dips in and out relentlessly. He sinfully loves the burn of his scalp as you pull his hair to angle him just right. 
Thumb harshly circling your clit, Satoru thinks he loses a bit of his sanity at every moan of his name that leaves your pretty mouth. “You taste s’good. So perfect for me, m’lady.” his voice sends vibrations to your pussy that have you feeling your heartbeat banging in two places.
“Hngh- Satoru, don’ stop!” you mewl as his nose catches on your clit, clamping down on his tongue. He continues his movements, breathing you in so sinfully. Air was overrated - Satoru Gojo, famously daring traveler and devilishly handsome, dies here between your legs. He wouldn’t even mind.
“Cum in my mouth, m’lady. Please.” he begs, voice muffled by your dripping cunt. He locks eyes with your fucked out ones as he pulls you by the thighs impossibly closer to him. He never wanted to part.
The stimulation of his voice in addition to his fingers and tongue becomes too much. “Satoru! Hah-  M’ gonna cum-”
Tears spring to your eyes as you cum all around Satoru’s tongue. He doesn’t let up his harsh abuse of your pulsing pussy, groaning as he laps up your juices - your slick pooling at the corner of his mouth. 
He was so greedy for you. Shit, this is so much better than he’s imagined every night he’s fucked his fist in that lonely room.
As both of you attempt to catch your breaths, the chattering song of crickets and distant music from the Harvest Hoedown fill the air once more. Satoru looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes that has your cunt twitching once more. 
You’d felt his rock-hard length. And you wanted it now.
“Satoru. let me feel you in my mouth, please.” you murmur. Kneeling before him, you look up at him with eager eyes. At his slow nod, you give an experimental squeeze to the large imprint of his cock, thighs rubbing together at Satoru’s drawn-out hiss. 
“Oh, m’lady. You drive me insane.” he groans. 
Cursing the heavy trousers that cowboys wear, you fumble it down his legs. Muscles, creamy thighs come into your view, making your mouth water. 
In the dim lighting, you see the precum drip down Satoru’s flushed cock. The prominent vein down his side glistens prominently. Shit, he’d never fit in your mouth let alone your cunt. But you wanted it so bad.
Satoru’s heavy breaths sound in the still air as your bruised lips inch closer to his throbbing cock. A deep breath, and you spit on his blushing head, saliva dripping down the side of his length and to where you gently grasped his base. 
It was filthy, it was debauched. You absolutely loved it.
Satoru lets out a strangled moan as you flatten your tongue and take his tip into your mouth, sucking gently. He bucks his hips into your mouth as you run your tongue along his sensitive slit “Shit- Sorry, m’lady. You’re just hah- too good.”
Popping off his aching cock, you press kisses to the side of his length. He groans lowly at the vibrations as you speak about something that has been on your mind for a while now, “Satoru, don’t you think we’re past formalities now?”
“Well, I could call you my goddess?” he smiles. “Or my angel? Or-” Satoru chokes on his words as you take him fully into your mouth - partly because you needed him to shut up, and partly because you cunt ached with need.
“Sh-shit. Jus’ like that.” he rasps as you suck him at a dizzying pace. Precum drips down the side of your mouth as you take him in deeper - nose meeting the snowy white hair on his pelvis.
Your mouth burns at the stretch, his hips grinding lightly into your mouth to meet each bob of your head. Your pussy drips once more at how desperate Satoru was.
His mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you move to take his tight balls into your mouth. You admire the dazed look in his darkened eyes. “Oh god- I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum in your mouth, m’lady.” he murmurs, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you continue your ruthless pace.
As soon as your lips are around his cock once more, Satoru comes fast and hard with a gravelly moan. Hot spurts of his seed dribble down the corner of your mouth as you take it all in. 
Ah, this wasn’t what you had planned when you brought him here - but you sure weren’t complaining.
Satoru just about passes out when you stick out your tongue to show you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he gave, cock twitching once more. He needed you in a way that would make a hooker blush. 
Finding his voice, “As much as I’d love to ravish you right here, m’lady, I think you deserve somethin’ a bit more comfortable.” He swats at a mosquito attacking him as you grin devilishly.
---
Gege has never flown across the dry ground of Rustcliffe faster. 
Wind in your hair and Satoru’s arms warmly around your middle, you feel the thundering of his heartbeat against your back - matching your own. You admire his moonlit profile, the light casting an otherworldly glow over his cloud-like hair. You could probably go anywhere if it was by his side. 
You’ve never been happier to see that familiar ol’ ranch.
Navigating your sprawling villa, you find, is close to impossible with a relentless Satoru pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. 
“Satoru…we gotta make it to the bed.” you giggle, drunk off of him rather than the liquor from before. He sighs impatiently, before promptly lifting you off of your feet. His hat and hip holster falling to god-know-where as he runs up the stairs to your bedroom with you in his arms.
The thud of heavy boot echoes throughout the empty house - your parents still at the Harvest Hoedown. It reminds you of the night you first kissed him. As he slams your door shut and pushes you against it, however, you never in your wildest dreams would have thought that it’ll lead to this.
Tongue tangling with Satoru’s, feet still not reaching the ground. You don’t think you’ll make it out of this alive. Nor will Satoru.
Satoru is definitely not making it out alive.
He’s barely stepped a foot into your bedroom before he’s got his hands all over you - groping and teasing every inch of your body he can find. Your legs wrapped around him, he holds you in the air, hands roughly squeezing your ass.
His lips don’t leave yours, tasting himself on your tongue - even as he bunches your skirts around your hips. Exhaling in relief as his hands meet your bare lips, he holds a finger to your pulsing core.
You whimper at the feeling, still sensitive from before. He drinks in your mewls of pain and pleasure, lips curling into a smug smile. “Still sensitive, m’lady? You poor thing. How will you take my cock if yer’ like this?” 
Your groan of impatience turns into a panicked whine as Satoru moves towards the bed, “Maybe we should tuck you in bed for now? Continue this tomorrow?” 
Reading the challenge in his eyes, you immediately free yourself from his hold. His confused gaze soon turns into a surprised one as you push him roughly onto the bed, straddling him after.
“You always do surprise me.” he laughs out between the magnetic kisses you leave on his lips. Buttons fling across the room as you rip his shirt in impatience - fingers too dripping in lust to work through them. You’re sure if the same could be done to your heavy prairie skirt, then it would’ve suffered a similar fate.
You run your hands along his sculpted body greedily, as you’d wanted to since the first time you saw him shirtless. He hisses at the friction and the impatience at wanting to do the same to you, fingers fumbling with your complicated clasps.
After much frustration and curses on whoever invented corsets, you’re finally exposed in front of Satoru.
Shit, he really should call you his goddess. Because in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he thinks he’s in heaven as you sit atop him, bare and needy for him. Fuck Naoya. Fuck any faceless suitable husband. Eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-bitten, you’re like this because of him. 
Grinding his now-bare hips against yours, a low groan rips from his throat at the feeling of your swollen folds spreading against his aching cock. Your dripping slick mixes with his as he continues rutting into you. 
“Ah! Enough teasin’, Satoru- Want you inside me.” you whimper sinfully. 
Your words make Satoru snap. Wordlessly, he sheaths himself inside you with a sigh of relief. Moans leave his throat unrestrained as he bullies his cock deeper and deeper inside your hot cunt. “Fuck. S’tight, your pretty pussy is suckin’ me in so good m’lady.” he hisses out, brows furrowed in pleasure.
Satoru could feel himself losing more and more of his sanity every time your plushy walls clenched down on him as he pulled out to fuck up into with harsh thrusts. It was so animalistic, the way your perfect cunt couldn’t bear to part with him. 
Your slick drips down his length and onto his heavy balls each time he rams into you at a merciless cadence. Soft yelps of his name leave your lips every time his tip kisses your cervix. 
Ah, this time he was actually going to pass out. Your pretty whines, your dripping cunt, the way your tits jiggled so enticingly at each thrust - it was all too much. 
Angling you slightly with his bruising grip on your hips, Satoru smiles with satisfaction at that one spot that makes you convulse on his cock. Abs burning at the pace, he hits it over and over. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder, moans of his name leaving you against your will. 
You were sure to be absolutely covered in marks tomorrow. 
But that was a problem for later you. Right now, all you could focus on was grinding your hips down to meet Satoru’s thrusts, eager for him to hit that spot even harder. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the painfully good stretch of your snug cunt. So full. 
“K-keep going, Satoru. Don’ stop, please.” Your rickety bed creaks in protest at each relentless thrust, overpowered only by the stinging smacks of his balls against your ass. 
It was so filthy. So debauched. And you absolutely loved it.
As Satoru’s hands sneak down to draw rough circles on your clit, you feel yourself getting closer and closer towards cumming. Leaning down to capture his lips with yours once more, you whisper against his mouth, “Satoru, I’m- Hngh-” 
He connects his sweaty forehead with yours, “Mm. me too. Fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up. You want that, m’lady?”
Just the thought of being so full of Satoru sends you over the edge. You cum with a lewd moan of his name, cunt clenching so impossibly tight around his cock. 
“Ah! Shit.” Satoru grits out at the way your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly. Your whimpers as you gush around him sounds like music to his ears. 
Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums. A part of his soul parting with him that night. Thick ropes of his seed paint your walls white, strained whispers of your name leaving his mouth as if a prayer. As if you were his goddess. 
A feral part of him keeps bucking his hips into you, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper - claiming you as his.
You do the same in your own way - biting down on Satoru’s exposed neck. Hard. His strong arms wrap around you to keep you from moving away, letting you use him as you please. 
Cum drips down your legs, staining your blanket. 
As your highs finally bate, you blink out the haze from your eyes. Looking up at Satoru from where you were snuggled into the crook of his neck, admiring the innocent blush adorning his face and his glossy, bruised lips. Both of you so overstimulated and euphoric.
“Got any travel stories like this?” you chuckle out, half-delirious and exhausted from what just transpired in this room. 
“Not at all.” Satoru breathes out, pulling you closer to him, closing his hazy eyes to the sex-filled air. 
That night, squeezed into your warm single bed, Satoru tells you stories of before his travels. You’re unsure if your parents are home yet, and right now with Satoru in your arms - you don’t care.
You listen as he rambles about growing up in the quaint town of Summer Pass. How he was raised with beautiful parents, a wonderful life. Yet, since the passing of his best friend, he’d taken up what the two had been dreaming of since they were children - wandering the world. 
“I’m afraid, if I stay too long then it always ends up hurtin’.” he whispers into the still night. Caressing his hair, you pull him into your warm embrace. Your heart weighs heavy as the back of your mind pangs with the realization that Satoru will still leave despite this.
Both of you fall asleep reminiscing talks of your childhoods. In your exhausted state, maybe you misheard - but you could’ve sworn by the “I love you, m’lady.” Satoru whispered against your lips right before you closed your eyes. 
Limbs intertwined till you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts, you have the most peaceful sleep in a long time.
You’re unsure when Satoru snuck out of your room. The only evidence of last night being the washcloth on your bedside table that he’d tenderly cleaned you up with, and a singular button from his shirt at the foot of your bed. 
Cheeks heating once you catch sight of it, you make your way down to breakfast in your most well-covered dress. 
What you certainly didn’t expect was to be interrogated by your mother. “So…” she begins. ”When did you come home, darling? We didn’t see you at the hoedown after midnight.”
Ah, suddenly these scrambled eggs just did not want to go down your throat. “Jus’...went to see somethin’ interesting.” you respond, eyes meeting with Satoru’s amused ones across the table as he subtly plays footsies with you underneath.
---
Sneaking around with a secret cowboy boyfriend doesn’t just happen in books, you realize. It’s a lot easier since Naoya is around a lot more often than usual. The only thing he might be good for may be keeping your parents entertained…
Since then, Satoru, you conclude, really does not like L-words: namely, Love and Leaving.
Despite his breathless confession that night, Satoru hasn’t said anything more about his feelings towards you - nor when he’ll be leaving. 
It’s okay, you have time. You console yourself, as you lay in bed with him after he’d snuck into your room as per usual, pulling his warm presence closer to yours. But Satoru’s inevitable departure looms closer and closer like a dark cloud above your head. 
It’s only two months after that night, when you’ve retreated from another engagement conversation you shut down, that Satoru brings it up. Hands intertwined and watching the sunset on top of your father’s barn, he utters in an uncharacteristically grave tone “I planned to leave next week, m’lady.” 
Your heart pricks at his words. You knew this was coming. 
Clenching your fists in self-assurance, your words tumble out.
“Let me come with you.”
“Let me stay with you.”
The nostalgic lullaby of the world around you is deafening as you and Satoru reel back in synchronized surprise. 
“You- stay?”
“Wait- huh?”
Brow raised, you gesture at him to continue. “I just- I thought maybe I could stay here. Build a life with you, if you’d like, m’lady.” 
Your eyes widen in surprise. Satoru - who smiles brightest when talking of his tales of travel - was offering to settle down?
“W-what? Satoru, why would you? You love traveling.” you sputter out in disbelief. His smile grows, as does the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve found something I love a lot more.” he murmurs, with a playful bite to the crook of your neck.
You crack a smile at his sincerity, though you shake your head in disagreement. “You should be out there explorin’ the world, Satoru. And…I want to be right by your side.”
“I thought you loved this place?”
“I do.” you sigh. “But I feel so trapped.”
Resting your head on Satoru’s shoulders, you admit how dear Rustcliffe is to you - although oftentimes you try to deny it - and how you want to leave just as much. 
The stars wink at you two mischievously by the time you’re done, a twinkle that matches the look in Satoru’s eyes as he announces, “So~ We run away together in a blaze of glory. End scene, credits roll, Gege win’s best actor.”
“Exactly. Although I prefer the term unannounced relocation.” you hum, relishing in his bark of laughter. “Now, c’mon, cowboy. We gotta get up early for that damn election rally tomorrow.”
Heading back home as inconspicuous as possible is always tedious. In addition to praying away your swollen lips, you head in innocently at different times. 
Hurriedly greeting your housekeeper, you attempt to make a swift escape to your room. Only to be blocked by…Naoya?
“We meet again, sweetcheeks.” he smiles, stepping closer towards you. Determined to stand your ground, you stare menacingly up at him. “Hello, my apologies for being so unavailable to meet these days. Business, y’know.” your voice steady.
“Ah, yes. I know.” he hums dangerously. Looming closer to your face, you smell the tobacco on his breath as he mutters, “It’s no matter, your father and I have gone through with our conversations. You and I will announce our engagement tomorrow at your father’s rally. That is final.”
“I’ve talked with you about this, I’ve screamed at you about this. I will not marry you no matter what my father nor anyone else says.” you grit out through clenched teeth. 
“Why? Got anyone in mind? Think it’ll be anyone else your father approves of?” he raises a brow, delicately raising the neckline of where your dress had dripped down - where Satoru had nipped before.
He knows.
“Not at all.” you smile sweetly. Not waiting for a response, you run upstairs. Seems like running away in a blaze of glory might have to hurry up.
Twisting and turning the entire night, you don’t get a wink of sleep, mind a whirlwind of how you’d get Satoru and run away before the announcement.
It was terrifying.
---
Parading around town in an itchy engagement dress under the boiling sun on your father’s collection of purebred Italian horses (+ Gege) wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend an ideal morning. But it wasn’t the worst.
You snuck glances at Satoru riding in front of you, looking devastatingly handsome as ever. 
Naoya had been terrifyingly quiet all morning. You could feel his penetrating stare on you, scrutinizing every movement and every conversation. He rides beside you - your soon-to-be husband.
As the procession ends at your father’s podium, where he proudly takes a stand. As he plows on with an inspirational speech that has the audience in cheers, your mind runs a mile a minute as you slip away from the stage. Even in your gauzy white dress, it’s easy to get lost in the animated crowds of Rustcliffe - which you and Satoru use to your advantage.
This was happening. You were going to finally leave. 
Heart clenching at the sight of your jovial parents onstage, you take a long look before turning away. It’s okay, it’s alright. This is something you’ve been wanting for years. 
Brain whirring at the letters you’d send them on your travels, you miss the harsh gaze following you. 
“Satoru!” you gasp at the blur of white and black that embraces you as soon as you step foot into Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon. The bar, empty for the first time in years since your father’s last rally, was your hastily chosen place of refuge.
Nanami, who wasn’t initially too keen on being involved, had sympathized once he saw the look on your face. “Alright, but if anyone asks - you two were never here. Not too good for business, y’know.” he’d stated, permitting you two to do whatever you please. 
Although, it probably was worth noting that he’d almost taken it back once Satoru tackled him into a hug with a joyful squeal of “Nanamiiiin~!”
“C’mon now. I’ve got our bags saddled on Gege. We’ll leave immediately.” Satoru voices, snapping you out of your reminiscing. Rushing to give Nanami a farewell hug, your heart lurches as he whispers “Goodbye. Promise you’ll write.” 
This was really happening.
Nodding in promise, you finally turn to the open door and step into the dusty sunlight. Satoru leads you to where Gege is impatiently waiting for your quick getaway. You could almost laugh at the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins. 
You were going to get out.
You grip onto Satoru’s shoulder for support as he circles his arms around you to lift you onto the seat, slightly shaking at the intoxicating adrenaline. 
You were finally going to be free. 
“Leavin’ so soon, sweetcheeks?” a chilling voice slices through the air. One that you know way too well. Your heart stops, as does Satoru’s hands in midair - before he sets you down slowly.
Body moving against your will, you turn to the deceivingly sweet voice behind you. Naoya.
A cold sweat breaks out across Satoru’s forehead. 
He stares down Naoya’s hand hovering over the holster at his hip. “I knew there was something off about you, barn boy. You think I’d be outmatched by someone like you?” he hisses, resentment poisoning every word.
Satoru does what he does arguably the best, “Oh c’mon asshat, don’t be so melodramatic. We’re just going on a little adventure.” he smirks.
“Don’t I know of these adventures.” Naoya spits out. 
Agonizingly slow, Naoya draws his gun. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as the three of you stand frozen, searing sun casting eerie shadows across the desolate road. 
BANG!
Naoya’s first shot tears through the deafening silence. Narrowly missing the bullet, Gege whinnies in fear before running off to safety. Satoru skillfully maneuvers you two into the shadowy alleyway beside Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon.
In the blink of an eye, he presses you close to the dust-bitten wall as he pulls out his gun. “Stay here.” he gasps out.  
With lightning speed, Satoru retaliates - firing back-to-back shots at Naoya with a speed and precision that has him scrambling for cover behind a barrel. 
The gunfire echoes throughout the quiet town, these familiar streets becoming a battleground. Despite both parties shooting from their impromptu covers, neither are invincible. 
A stray bullet harshly grazes his arm, blood painting the ground a deep crimson. Fuck, this really burned like a motherfucker. But he was still alive - he still had to protect you. 
The standoff intensifies, stray bullets flying off in every direction. They splinter holes through the rustic shop banners. You could only be thankful that the town was at the rally, confident you’d never forgive yourself if anyone died on this road today.
Satoru fires off shots with uncanny accuracy, years of defending himself on the road coming in handy. Yet, he was losing blood. So much blood. He realizes with a jolt that his vision was slowly blurring. 
Breaths labored and slumping forward against the wall, he aims one last shot at Naoya. Fuck. Shit. Dear lord, if you’re up there, please don’t let my love die here. 
A finger pulls the trigger. The bullet flies through the air as if in slow-motion. 
It hits metal.
Naoya’s gun flies through the air, clattering onto the sun-scorched ground as he is finally disarmed. The beginnings of a grin curl Satoru’s lips before he heaves out a heavy sigh. Eyes closing and body collapsing forward, the last thing ringing in his ears being your harrowed scream.
“No no no no. Satoru please.” sobs wreck your throat as your hands frantically check for Satoru’s pulse. In your panicked state of mind, you barely register the crunch of gravel nearing towards you two. 
“Shit. The fuck is it that you even want?” that dreaded voice sounds ominously in your ears. “To travel? I can fuckin’ take you places.” 
Sagging on the saloon wall for support, Naoya clutches his bleeding side as he observes the two of you. In an instant, you’re in front of Satoru’s body protectively, hand steady on his discarded gun pointed right at Naoya’s head. 
“Leave, before I shoot your brains out..” you threaten, voice deceptively steady.
“I thought I could be the one to break you - the mayor’s wildchild daughter. But why the fuck do you put yourself through this?” he continues, voice strained with anger. 
“Because he is the one I want. I refuse your proposal, and I am not sorry for it. Now leave.” 
You were standing up now, the cool metal of the barrel pressed firmly to his forehead. Finger hovering above the trigger.
“I believe the lady said to leave.” Nanami’s voice startles you both. His normally stoic face was etched with anger. 
Despite his injuries, Naoya manages to glare at Nanami. But, realizing the odds are against him, he backs away, but not before venomously promising “This ain’t over, sweetcheeks.”
He leaves a bloody trail as he limps out of sight.
“Told you this wasn’t good for business.” Nanami sighs at the chaos. With Nanami’s help, you carry Satoru inside - body moving on instinct as your mind races to process everything that happened. 
The empty bar now serves as an improvised hospital. Laying Satoru down on a table that acts as a makeshift bed, propping his feet up in a desperate attempt to recirculate his blood. You desperately tear the intricate of your engagement dress into bandages, hurriedly wrapping it around his injured arm.
The atmosphere is taut, air once thick with the stench of alcohol now reeking of blood and the dusty antiseptic Nanami had brought to you from the very back of his shelves. The methodic ticking of the bar clock sounds like gunshots to your ears.
His reassuring presence is probably what keeps you sane as you stare unmovingly at your hands, stained a dark red from the blood seeping through Satoru’s clothes. 
You must have been sitting there for hours. Maybe even days. Or it might have even been just a few minutes.
All you know is a flash of blue, and you’re surging forward, heart racing. “Satoru?! Satoru! Please say something.” you cry out, tears streaming down your face once more. Nanami quietly makes his exit to the back, leaving the two lovers to their privacy.
“Satoru.” you breathe out, relief flooding your body and a smile forcing its way onto your face as Satoru’s half-lidded eyes meet your worried ones. 
“M’lady.” he whispers weakly. His uninjured arm shakily cups your cheek, and you lean into his warm touch. “I would never have forgiven myself if I left you alone, m’lady.” he rasps, eyes boring into yours. “Couldn’t have fought off the tumbleweeds yourself.”
You let out a watery laugh. There he is, the man you love.
“I love you, Satoru.” you speak in a hushed tone, as if anything louder will throw you back into your nightmare. His smile grows, blue summer eyes flooding with silent tears. 
“I love you, too. So, so much. Wherever you go s’ where I belong, my love.” he utters words meant for you - and only you. 
Your heart swells at the indescribable emotion on his face. “Then, rest well. We have to make our getaway in a blaze of glory, remember?” 
It wasn’t a blaze of glory, more like a teary trail of apologies and thanks as you embrace Nanami farewell - for the second time today. He hugs Satoru too, but only begrudgingly after he bemoans about being on the brink of death any second now. 
You step outside once more, hands shaky at what awaits you. 
In the distance, you hear a frantic call of your name. You turn, only to have your parents barreling emotionally into you. 
Word seems to have spread around town about what had happened, and your parents were first to come to you - your father running off midspeech. 
Through your hurried stream of tears and recollections of what happened, you managed to bawl out “I-I’m so-”
Words which are quickly hushed by your equally emotional parents. “Please don’ apologize.” your mother soothes.
“If anything, I should. I’m so sorry for tryin’ to coop you up here, my dear. I was a scared, insolent man. S’hard to not see you as my little girl, I hope you can forgive me, my darling.” your father sighs shakily. He looks a lot older than you remember him.
Grabbing both your parents into a tight embrace, you whisper out the words “I love you, and I promise to write.” 
With a final hug goodbye from your parents - to both you and Satoru, you take a seat in front of him on the now-calm Gege. 
“Ready m’lady?” you send a teasing glance at Satoru, who positively swoons overdramatically.
“Oh yes, Mr. Brave n’ Handsome cowboy.” he responds in a theatrically high falsetto. “Travelin’ the world won’t be all sunshines and rainbows, y’know? If you want a way out now then jus’ say the word.” he warns in his normal voice.
“Trynna get rid of me already, cowboy?” you raise a brow playfully. He wraps his arms securely around your waist. “Just sayin’, wouldn’t want you to regret a single thing.” he murmurs softly.
“I won’t. As long as we win against those tumbleweeds, right?”
Huffing out a laugh, “Can’t promise ya that, my love. You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me.”
The snap of reins. A last look at your waving parents, and your little town of Rustcliffe. You ride into the horizon with your white dress billowing behind you - on what you and Satoru would later consider blazing glory. 
---
“Didya hear about the mayor’s daughter? Last I heard, she was kidnapped by a rogue cowboy a couple years back, snatched her straight off her feet on her wedding day!”
“Hogwash! I heard she went quite willingly - the boy was quite a looker, you see. Stabbed her fiancé in his sleep before riding off into the sunset!”
Nanami stifles a laugh at the scandalized gasps echoing around the table as the old drunkards run the gossip mill. 
In a subtle motion, he discreetly tucks away a photograph, its back adorned with enthusiastic handwriting and a…hoofprint? 
Taj Mahal sprawling in the backdrop, two identical heads of white hair grin mischievously in the photo. 
Yet, yours takes center stage.
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A/N. Did this in two days, anything is possible kids (I need to lie down). Reblogs are so so so appreciated.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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nanaslutt · 6 months
Note
oh my god please make another part of gojo teaching us that was so good holy shit
Gojo teaches you how to touch him<3
Pt. 1 here
contains: fem reader, guided jerking off, experienced gojo, size kink if you squint, so much dirty talk, corruption kink, overstimulation, first time making out, gojo walks you through everything, cum eating
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
“Wanna learn how to touch a dick?” his question rang in your ears like a flash grenade had gone off. He was referring to himself right? You had to remind yourself how to breathe at how anxious his question made you. Touching yourself had made you embarrassed and self aware enough as it is, so touching someone else? The thought made you feel mortified.
Gojo must’ve picked up on your anxiousness because he used his big hands to rub comfortingly up and down your forearms, “Hey, if you’re not comfortable we can always stop here, you’ve already done so good.” He comforted.
Gojo might be unserious 99% of the time, but when it came to making you feel safe, he really nailed it. You came to the right person in asking for help with this kind of thing.
"N-no, I think I want to its just.. I dont know what im doing." You confess, even though he already knew. Gojo giggled, making the weight on your shoulders lift a bit at the sound, "Baby, I know, thats why Im gonna teach you, if you’ll let me." He smiles, leaning his body forward so you could see his face-- the visual of him smiling eased your nerves slightly.
"Right.. but what if I'm still not any good?" You say, shyly. "I almost came in my pants just watching you cum so.. I'm pretty sure you will do juuust fine." He confessed, making you huff out a laugh. "O-okay, what should I do?" You asked, turning your body so you were facing him, reaching over to grab your previously discarded panties while you waited for him to answer.
"The first thing you can do is forget about these," Gojo took your soaked panties from your hand, making you scoff as he twirled them around his finger before pocketing the fabric as quick as he snatched them, "The view of your little pussy is so cute, don't want these to get in the way of this eye candy." He praised, making you blush and look away from his intimidating gaze.
He brought his hand up to your face after pulling his hand out of his pocket-- caressing the side of your cheek comfortingly, "Come here." He instructed, sliding down on the headboard so he was propped comfortingly against the pillows, "On my lap," He adds when you hesitate to move twords him.
You situated yourself comfortably on his thighs, right under his crotch, you placed your hands on his lower stomach, staring at his intimidating bulge while you waited for his words to come. "You wanna start by touching it over his pants, just like you did for yourself." He instructs, speaking generally.
You picked your hands up from his stomach, hovering them a couple inches over his crotch before taking a deep breath and biting your lip. "How should I.. touch it?" you ask uncertainty laced in your words. "Wrap your hand around it the best you can and rub," He tells you, placing his hands on your thighs and rubbing his thumb on your skin for comfort.
You held your breath before you made contact with him, making him hiss air into his lungs through his teeth at the feeling of properly being touched after so much tension. You softly rubbed him up and down, gulping at how big he felt in your hand. "You can rub a little harder, it's not gonna break," He laughed, making you blush and whisper out a quiet 'sorry' as you briefly made eye contact with him, quickly averting your gaze back down to his crotch.
You gripped him through his pants, stroking him rougher now but still slowly, up and down. You took a peek at his face from under your lashes, watching him lick his lips and blink rapidly, his eyes focused on your hand at work on him.
"Yeah, yeah, just like that." He praised, keeping his eyes glued down between the two of you. You felt your face heat up when his cock jumped against your hand, it felt so hot even through his pants. The thought of seeing a real dick, unobstructed by fabric was making your head spin.
The man underneath you truly thought he would've came the second you touched him, it was a miracle from the heavens that he had managed to hold back and not bust in his pants at the first contact.
Your inexperience turned him on to no extent. He just loved the idea of corrupting you, showing you all of the amazing things you could feel, everything that you've been missing out on. He swore he would ruin you for anyone else—make you addicted to him so you never even thought about doing this with anyone else.
"D-does this feel good?" You ask genuinely, you had noticed his expressions and reactions to your touch—and they seemed like good ones—but you had no idea how someone was supposed to react when you touched them like this, hence why you asked for his confirmation.
"Feels better than you know." He grinned, his body running warmer the longer you stroked him over his pants. "It feels so big." You confessed, unaware of how your words went straight to his head and dick.
"Yeah?" his smirk grew as he felt his own ego inflate at your words, not like he needed that. "Yeah.." You meekly replied, "It keeps twitching too," you told him like he was unaware. "I know baby, means you're doing a good job." He praised once more, making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Wanna see it?" He asked after he deemed that you had been touching him outside his pants for an adequate amount of time. You swallowed hard, stilling your hand on his cock as it continued to jump under the weight of your palm. "Yes, please." You answered, sliding your hands up his shirt and feeling his hard abs before you slid them back down to hold onto the hem of his pants. "Should I take your boxers off too, or?" You question, hesitating.
He smiled at you, giving you a short nod. You grabbed his pants and boxers alike, beginning to pull them down his body— gojo lifted his hips up to aid your efforts, jaw dropping in an open-mouthed smile when his hard cock sprung up and slapped against his abdomen.
Your mouth opened in a small o shape, running dry at the sheer size of his now unobstructed cock. There was a string of pre that had already dropped down against his abdomen, connecting the two.
It looked as thick as it felt, a nice upwards curve to it, and the tip was flushed a pretty pink color. It was the prettiest and only dick you’d ever seen.
“You like what you see, cutie?” he teased, making his cock jump as you stared between the appendage and his penetrating gaze. “Fuck.. y-yeah.” you confessed, feeling yourself start to throb between your legs at the new visual.
“Go ahead an touch it, the same as you did before.” Gojo instructed. You slowly reached out, wrapping your hand around his length, noticing that your fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around his girth.
The man underneath you couldn’t resist as he thrusted his hips up into your hand, biting his lip at the direct contact. “Your hand is so fucking soft” He praised, “Go ahead and spit on it for me, it doesn’t feel very good when it’s dry.” he told you.
The gears in your head were still turning at what you were actually doing right now. Without saying anything, you leaned down a bit, collecting the saliva in your mouth before you spit right onto his cockhead, making him gasp.
You brought your hand to his tip, rubbing it around in circles before sliding your hand down the length of his cock and coating it in your spit, easing the slide. “Fuuuck, just like that, shit-“ Gojo cursed, tipping his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut.
“S-squeeze harder at the tip,” he instructed, remembering he was supposed to be teaching you, so staying silent and moaning probably wouldn’t do you much good. “T-the tip is more sensitive than the rest of the cock, so make sure to pay more attention to it.” he tells you.
“Is it kinda like the clit?” You ask, which makes him giggle before he responds, “Sorta..” he answeres, staring at the ceiling in thought before he continues, “Yeah actually, pretty similar, but if you spend too much time on just the tip it can get a little too sensitive.” He explains.
“Sensitive how?” you ask, continuing your slow but heavy strokes on his cock, using the knowledge he just told you in squeezing harder against his tip. “Why don’t I show you?” he says.
“Take one hand and keep stroking me just like you’re doing, with the other, lay your palm flat- yeah just like that- then curl your hand over the entirety of my tip, and rotate your wrist in circles.” Gojo instructed, digging his nails into your thighs prematurely as he braced himself for the intense overstimulating pleasure that was about to come.
“This won’t hurt you right?” you ask, getting your hands into place but keeping them still as you awaited his answer. “You’re so sweet~” he cooed, “I’ll stop you if it’s too much.”
With that, you started, quickly jerking the length of his cock while rotating your wrist over his dick in quick circles. Immediately his body started reacting, back arching and abs clenching uncontrollably as he bit his lip and dug his nails deeper into your skin to keep himself grounded.
“K- haaah- keep g-going-“ he moaned out, his legs jerking and twitching underneath you as you kept up your antics. “Fuck! f-fuck-“ The white haired man squeezed his eyes shut as his body spasmed without his permission.
Your cunt was throbbing at how you were able to bring a man as strong as Gojo to this state. “Ngh~” he was whining and moaning against the sheets, head thrashing back and forth as he tried to keep his voice down.
You never wanted this to end, you finally understood what he meant when he said he was worked up from just watching you play with yourself, as you felt your cunt clench, slick dripping down your leg from your tight hole.
His large hand came down to stop your wrist, panting heavily he spoke, “O-okay, okay- fuck, that’s enough.” He groaned when the pleasure quickly became too much. "S-sorry, are you okay?" you choked, once again making him smile at how sweet you were. "I'm just fine baby, it's just a little overwhelming," He said, releasing your wrist and placing his hand back on your thighs.
"Did so fucking good though, listened just like I told you to." He smirked, gripping your thighs and making you look up at him through your lashes. You pouted out your bottom lip a bit in embarrassment, trying your best to not look away from his intimidating gaze. "Alright, class is back in session, go ahead and pick up where you left off." He continued.
You released your hand that was caressing his tip, going back to jerking him off steadily with the one hand. "Don't forget about the balls either, you just wanna massage them softly," he instructs after a couple seconds of your continued ministrations. You nod, acknowledging his words before you spit on your other hand, and bring it down to his warm balls.
"Oh shit- haha- didn't even have to tell you to spit." He says, amazement laced in his words, "You had n-nothing to worry about, you're doing so fucking good." He reassured when you started to expertly roll and massage his sack in your hand, timing your motions perfectly with the jerking of his cock.
"Cmere baby," He asked, growing needier and needier at the more stimulation you provided him with. You tilted your head at him, confused, making him laugh. "Come give me a kiss, pretty thing." He clarifies. You hesitate slightly, You've kissed one or two people before, but you've never made out with anyone per se, which is what you were assuming Gojo wanted right now.
"Follow my lead, I'll show you how to make kissing feel as good as sex." He boldly said, making you blush. You released your hold on his balls, opting to place your hand against his hard chest for stability as you leaned forward, not stopping your ministrations on his cock. He gave you a toothy grin, his big hands coming up to grab your waist before he opened his mouth, huffing out a small laugh before he pressed your lips together.
He immediately took the lead, moving his lips against your own, massaging his soft lips with his. He groaned into the kiss, which made you reciprocate the sound, whining into his mouth. Where you normally would've pulled away by now, Gojo instead opened his mouth against you and pressed another kiss to your lips, repeating the action, and continuing the kiss.
You unawarely squeezed his cock harder at the stimulation, you had no idea that kissing could feel so erotic. When Gojo felt your fist tighten up around him, he pulled back half an inch from the kiss, panting slightly against your lips before he spoke needily, "Faster baby, give it to me faster." He rushed before conjoining your lips once more, rougher this time.
You felt him poke his tongue out and lick against your lips, "Open your mouth for me, baby," He said to you between kisses, to which you complied. He took this new opportunity to lick his tongue into your mouth. You thought French kissing would feel gross and unpleasant, but this was nothing of the sort, it really felt like he was fucking your mouth. He expertly massaged the inside of your mouth with his warm appendage, making you throb between your legs.
You remembered his words; which had told you to follow his lead; as you reciprocated, darting your tongue out and intertwining it with his, and it felt even better. "Mmmmm" Gojo hummed against your lips when he felt your tongue join the fun. Hips lips suddenly attached to your bottom one, slowing down the kiss briefly as he sucked it into his mouth and bit it between his teeth, smirking before he let it go, chasing your lip as it bounced back to your face.
You had switched up your technique on his cock just seconds ago, rotating your wrist over his entire cock, and pulsing your grip to imitate your pussy walls, giving him harder strokes when you slid your hand down him; you were having fun with it, and it must've been working.
Gojo pulled away from the kiss, allowing you to sit back up as he panted heavily, his cock was steadily dripping more and more pre onto your fingers, easing the slide against his cock while you jerked him off. "Did you like that?" He asked, referring to the kiss. "Y-yeah, I didn't know kissing could feel so good," you replied honestly, making him smile.
"I know~ made your pussy feel all needy again, huh?" he said, having noticed the wetness that was coating your inner thighs, his words sending a wave of sudden awareness through you, making you want to cower away. "Aww, don't get shy on me baby, look at me," He started, "I'm the one getting my cock jerked off, about to fucking burst," The man giggled, "If anyone should be embarrassed it's me~"
"You're about to cum?" You asked, those words being the only ones that made it into your dizzy head. "Yeah, and it's all cos' of you, didn't even have to give you that much i-instruction, you're a pro." he praised, making you look away from his gaze and instead focus on his cock in your smaller hand. "You wanna make me cum?" He asked.
"Wanna watch you cum.." You replied, making him laugh breathlessly as he felt your words go straight to his balls, "Oh don't worry, you will," He informed you, tipping his head back once more against the pillows, and letting himself really feel as you stroked your fingertips along his lower abs, while keeping the steady and mind numbing pace on his cock.
"Fuck, wish I was cuming inside your pussy," He suddenly moaned, catching you off guard with his words as he gripped your hips with his large hands. "Would fill you up so fucking full." He babbled, inching closer and closer to his high with every stroke, slightly thrusting up into your warm hand.
proofread-----
"If I try hard enough, your little hand starts to feel like your perfect fucking cunt," He groaned through his teeth, "but I just know you would be so much warmer and wetter- fuck-." He moaned at his own words, working himself up as he dropped his chin forward to look at your hand on him, his jaw opened in a small o shape.
"You want that? Huh? Want me to split you open on my cock and fill you up with my cum?" His words had gotten so filthy and shameless, and so fast, it was giving you whiplash. You nodded meekly, not trusting your voice right now as his words alone made you feel like you were going to cum. But that wasn't good enough for Gojo. "Gotta hear you say it baby, need you to tell me you need it." He groaned through his teeth, making your body move above him as he thrust his hips upwards, helping you fuck his cock with your hand.
"Y-yes Satoru I want it." You said, meaning every word, "What do you want?" He rushed out, trying to hold back from cumming to hear you say those magic words. His balls and shaft alike were twitching so strongly against your hold, getting ready to release his seed. "W-want you to come inside me, please give it t-to me." You blushed at your own words, the embarrassment worsening when he groaned shamelessly at them. His pretty eyes rolled back in his head as his orgasm crashed down on him. "Fuck- coming-" he warned before you felt his warm seed start to cover your hand.
Long rope after rope of his cum coated your hard, making you moan with him at the erotic sight. His abs were clenching under your hand, body twitching and back arching slightly, similar to how your own did when you had cum, as you fucked him through his high. You kept jerking him off even after the spasms of his body ceased, and his cock started to soften in your hold.
His large hand shot up and gripped your wrist harshly. "C-careful," He laughed, heaving air into his lungs, "It's so fucking sensitive right after we cum." He said.
"Shit s-sorry," You blushed, releasing his dick from your soiled hand as you stared at his seed that covered it, amazed by how much there was. "Don't be sorry baby, I haven't cum that hard in my life, and all just from your hand" He laughed, rubbing his large hands up the length of your torso while he let himself catch his breath, his soft cock resting against his tummy.
An idea popped into your head, remembering how he had sucked off your cum from your own fingers after he made you finish, and it made you wonder what he tasted like too. Absentmindedly you brought your hand up to your mouth, not paying attention to the man below you as he watched your every movement with bated breath, knowing exactly what you were about to do.
You let your tongue poke out from your open mouth, licking up his seed at tasting him on your tongue. It was bitter, but not overwhelmingly so, there was something almost sweet about it, which made you suck your fingers completely into your mouth, swallowing his seed that coated them.
Gojo watched with a slack jaw at the show you were putting on, his cock twitched to life as he watched you eagerly lick up his cum. "Fuuuck." He drew, bringing your attention back to him as you popped your fingers out of your mouth, giving him a small smile that made his brain short-circuit.
"I have so much to teach you." He grinned, caressing the side of your face as you closed your eyes, and leaned your face into his hand.
pt.3
8K notes · View notes
screampied · 20 days
Note
Sukuna’s tongue on his abdomen. You do the rest 😫
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 asking to ride sukuna's stomach tongue while you make out with him
warnings. fem! reader, true form sukuna, riding his stomach tongue, cunnilinguś, dirty talk, praise, mdni.
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“. . woman, don’t mumble,” he’d sneer, an arm hooked around your waist. you panted, suddenly feeling small. he sat manspread on his throne, occasionally brushing a thumb against the edges of your hips. dark irises stare you down before he continues to speak in a rough tone. “repeat yourself. and look at me when you speak, i taught you well, did i not?”
your eyes ran down every inch of his body, all down sukuna’s washboard abs before it leers near that particular spot. near the lower part of his torso, where a merely pried open mouth rests. you couldn’t help but ponder to yourself, imagining such raunchy things about the extra mouth that attached towards the outer part of his stomach.
“i said . .” you project your voice slightly, still speaking softly. the air felt thick all around you, you swallow an invisible lump in your throat as you straddle him before sighing. “your extra mouth near . . there,” and you point, watching his dark eyes glance to where you’re referring to. “can— may i sit on it?”
“ah,” he snickers, already knowing you were gonna ask him that anyway. sukuna brings a hand towards his mouth, wiping underneath his nose before humming. “you’re such an odd girl,” and his voice deepens, its pitch sends a plethora of tingles to wander all throughout your body. “you may. but first,” and you stare into his eyes, watching as he grabs your chin, gently skimming his thumb alongside your lip as if he was parting your lips to converse. “say those words for me, pretty please.”
as he runs a thumb against your lip, you stare right into his dark hooded eyes. he slyly smiles at you, his fangs briefly poking out as he awaited for those sweet honeyed words to escape.
“but ryo,” you pout, aware he went by sukuna but you always shortened his name whenever you didn’t get your way right away.
“hmph,” he huffs out a husky breath, raising your chin up slightly as you still sat on his lap. your panties that were already pulled to the side pokes underneath your skirt before you inch closer towards him—closer towards his perfectly sculpted chest. “don’t 'ryo' me, girl. manners, let’s use those today, yeah?”
a long silence occurs before you blow, and he finds your frustration entirely adorable…
“pretty please,” you repeat his words, a cute grumble hidden underneath your tone. “pretty please can you allow me on your s-stomach so i can . .”
“never told you to go into detail, nasty girl,” he chortles, and his deep voice made you throb. such bass in it, it boomed throughout the entire palace.
“mhm . . . but as you wish,” and two big hands grab onto the sides of your waist. with a brief lift, you’re scooted up further against his abdomen where the closed mouth resides. “you’re gonna have to either hold on or i’m gonna have you hold you up, princess.”
“okay,” you suck in a sharp breath, wrapping your cute frail arms around him. he’s got this stare that’s so intimidating—so attractive.
you felt him hold your hips in place, guiding you where to sit. he had to slouch a bit against his throne, and you were finally sat. his eyes pierce into yours and he’s awaiting for your reaction. “how does it work, ‘kuna?”
“heh. oh you’ll see,” he grunts, and then moments later, you feel it — a slow lick that runs straight against your panties. your facial expression was cute, taken aback but cute. it felt like usual, how he’d eat you out whenever, just a tad bit different.
the tongue was a bit more lengthy, you moan once you jerk against him before slumping into his chest. “tell me little one,” he says, holding you with his front arms, kissing the tip of your forehead, another ruffling your hair. “how’s my extra tongue making you feel?”
it was so sloppy, you shudder once you hear a brief slurp commence and your eyes merely roll back.
“g—goooood,” you drag out, and he chuckles at how you start to grind against his abdomen. “it feels good, ‘kuna. don’t s—stop.”
“like i said before, such an odd one you are,” he gruffs lowly. from your sheer pleasure, he found himself getting slightly aroused himself. your sweetened moans going all up against his ear makes him smile. you just couldn’t stay still, the more you felt the tongue lap against your sopping cunt — the more you felt the need to grind against him even further. “is it better than my regular tongue?”
“s-stop talking, ‘kuna,” you whine, being taken over with pure lust. it felt so good—you couldn’t exactly put the feeling into words, but you felt yourself grow hot. it was as if the tongue had a mind of its own. flicking vigorously all between your folds, you profusely twitch. “hold me.”
he snickers, his lower arms gripping onto your waist like velcro.
“oh, how humorous. the human has the nerve to tell me what to do,” and you gnaw on your lip, feeling yourself start to dissolve into a blissful trance. the tongue went in multiple directions, circular and all. it spelled out a plethora of things including the alphabet, all over your pussy. you’ve never experienced anything like it. curiosity did kill the cat after all. “you taste sweet. have you been playing with yourself recently?”
“n— no,” you murmur in a weak voice, knowing you were about to approach your peak soon. it was so quick paced, you barely had time to keep up with your own shortened breaths. your voice sounded so small, it trembled on every word and symbol and he just snickers. “i didn’t.”
“look into my eyes and tell me you didn’t touch yourself,” he utters in a growl, gripping your chin as his lower tongue continued to wander all throughout your folds. you were soaked, the more you rutted your jittery hips against him—you became more and more close. his thumb swipes against your lip before he hums out of amusement. “yeah. go on,” he says after you suddenly grow quiet after eight dreadfully long seconds pass. “girl, i don’t have all day.”
you moan, feeling the licks against your sopping entrance fuel up a longing hunger that stirred up inside you. the tongue was slow, making sure to savor every inch of your honeyed taste. your arms remained wrapping around his broad shoulders before you lean in to kiss him.
“foolish woman,” he titters, pressing a finger against your lips. your eyes stare at his long well trimmed nail before averting back towards him. “if you want a kiss from me, you’d say what i tell you to say.”
the pout that stretches against the corners of your lips never cease, he was impossible.
you felt yourself throb at the countless sensational slurps the extra tongue made, you were panting . . hurriedly chasing your irregular rough breaths to only fail, as if it were some sort of lewd competition.
“f— fine,” you grouse, a pout still on your lips. he raises an eyebrow with a smirk, awaiting for your pathetic words that eventually comes. “i … i touched myself when you weren’t here, ‘kuna.”
“and what exactly was the reason for that?” he jibes.
you glare at him but it falters quickly, your eyebrows furrowing into a sweet curl once you’re about to let out a frenzied teeth shattering orgasm.
“i was bored. you’re always away doing boring king stuff and i just—”
“silly girl,” he cuts you off in a sonorous voice, swiftly shaking his head at you describing his royal devoirs as ‘boring king stuff’. you feel your heart flutter once your cunt clenches. you whimper, a fire igniting within you and your thighs suddenly ached. you felt it coming all too well. it was inevitable, your legs trembled the more the tongue lapped against your pussy at a more quickened speed. “don’t care what your reason is, this pussy’s only for my hands ‘n my hands only.”
alas, you were melting, metaphorically speaking but your entire body felt like it was.
it was so lewd, it’s slurping rang through your ears before moments later . . you jolt forward, feeling your release finally come. you came, a coil within you tightening and snapping before you whimper into his arms.
“s— sukunaaa,” you tremor, and that’s when he finally brings you into a loving kiss.
finally, you sink into his warm embrace, still grinding your hips briefly against the mouth that laid against his lower torso. your mouth pops open, glossed lips parting before you skim your tongue against his. he laughs, a hand of his slithering down your back in such a teasing way. you were still moving despite your entire body resuming to ride out your recent orgasm.
his embrace was soft, caressing the tiny hairs that stood up against your back . . lovingly.
as your tongue ran against his, you felt his fangs and you moan right into his mouth — a hand slowly trailing down his chiseled chest. he groans, deepening the kiss before grabbing your chin, tilting your head forward. foreheads touch briefly and it’s so soft.
you’re rocking back and forth, still pulsing heavily before after a while, he pulls away. you’re out of breath, the tongue still laid against your clit before your droopy hooded eyes stare into him.
“. . awww,” he slyly taunts, noticing your dumb expression. all that just from his extra tongue, he hums to himself once more before tilting your chin. “now now, what do we say afterwards?”
“t- thank you, ‘kuna,” and then you let off a deep sigh. “i love you.”
“mhm,” he rasps lowly, leaning forward to plant another sweet kiss on the top of your forehead. “i love you too, princess,” and then a long pause occurs. you’re staring at him, no words escaping but you look like you were desperately yearning to ask him something. “speak, girl.”
in short pants, you feel near his pecs before stammering out in shy words. “can— can we do that again, pretty please?”
sukuna smirks, his eyes briefly rolling before he cocks his neck. he lets off a low grumble before his eyes linger down towards the slick mess you created on him. “hm. as you wish. this time though, you cum when i tell you. understand?”
“yes, ‘kuna.”
“that’s a good girl.”
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shegetsburned · 2 months
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archeology teacher w. kento nanami *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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.nsfw. ⁀➷ part II
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who’s your first-semester teacher for your anthropology major.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who was recommended by one of your friends so you took his archeology class.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who’s considerate and kind towards his students, and has an inspiring passion for history although he comes off as stoic and aloof.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who laid his eyes on you the first time when you came after class to his desk to ask questions, leaving a permanent impression on him with your cute demeanour and bright smile. your interest made him question his.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose athletic build molded by his tight blue shirt attracted your gaze more than once while he explained roman architecture with his back turned toward the class.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose subtle eye contact makes your heart flutter and your thighs clench together. he’ll always find your gaze whether you’re at the back of the class or on the sides.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who won’t hesitate to take overtime if it means being able to deepen the subject with you and help you in any way he can.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who shifts closer to you while showing you slides of ancient artifacts, occasionally brushing your elbow with his.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who’s normally capable of separating sentimentalism from service, but can’t get you out of his head. thinking of you in ways he shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to his students.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose hunger becomes more and more insatiable the more time he spends with you. his focus failing him every time you look into his eyes while he speaks or when you touch his elbow as you get up from your seat at the end of the studying session.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who closes the door behind the last student after a two-hour long class on a friday evening, leaving you two alone. despite his tired figure, he insists that he can still work on some subjects with you.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose explanations are unusually incomprehensible and languorous. you ask if you should call it a day but his demanding eyes tell you otherwise.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who leans on his desk, inattentively misplacing his stuff and shifting his weight closer to you, his cologne blesses your nostrils when his neck is to your height, forcing you to look up.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose heavy breath lends on your forehead when his hands grab the sides of your chair, pulling you closer, his thumb just slightly caresses your thighs sending shivers down your spine.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who gives up any kind of restraint and self-control that inevitably comes with the job when he lifts you up on the desk, placing a ravenous kiss upon your lips, his hands tracing your curves up and down.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who hurries his movements, skillfully undressing you with little to no regard for anyone that might enter and watch him fuck his student.
“n-nanami. is it okay?” you ask against his lips, already melting into his touch. you were certainly more concerned than him for the consequences.
but he had watched you for weeks, rubbing yourself against your chair, nervously biting your lips and nibbling at your pen while he taught the class. he had enough of your subtle grins and teasing smiles.
“i don’t care.”
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who gets off on your shy moans that echo through the whole amphitheatre. your hesitant whines are blocked by one of your hands until he grabs your wrist, pulling it down against the desk.
“let me hear you, sweetheart. let the whole school hear you.”
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who lowers your pants and underwear before unbuckling his belt and steadying himself right in front of your entrance, a grin on his lips when you ask for him by pulling his tie down.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who mercilessly pounds into you, holding your hands down behind you and bending your body so your back arches against the wooden desk.
you wrapped your legs around him, pushing his weight forward, asking for him deeper, but the sheer size of his member was already enough to completely fill you. whenever he moved, it bruised your tight pussy, completely covering him with your seed.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who places gentle kisses upon your ear and neck despite how greedily he fucks you. your nails dig into the desk to maintain yourself, every time he thrusts in.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who easily but patiently leads you to multiple orgasms, keeping you in his class for more than one hour of overtime.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who lets no part of your body undiscovered, leaving no place for the imagination when you end up completely naked as he eats your pulsating cunt just like you expected he would.
₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who watches you leave his class for the tenth time, but this time satisfied. you left a delicious imprint on his lips and his hands that he’d think about for the whole weekend. he knew he needed to have you all to himself now and promised he’d ask you out for a proper date next time, hoping you wouldn’t say no to a teacher who had taught you so much already.
© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.
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anantaru · 3 months
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— cute things they do unintentionally
including wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette, diluc x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, lots of physical affection
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— wriothesley + always walks closest to the street
in the early stages of your relationship, wriothesley has shown the first, out of the many following, indications of his overall protective nature towards you— and do not misunderstand him, because obviously he wasn't making it somewhat overbearing.
he knows you are capable of doing things on your own, but he wants to be the one who does them for you instead. it fills him with joy, and the duke finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, indulging in the memories and thoughts and hope that they would never cease to invade his newfound paradise.
so to speak, it's sort of a way to show you his love in a contrasting kind of sense other than telling you his affection through words or physical touch— with his heart-melting gestures and tender warmth, wriothesley will stop to walk for a split second before softly pulling you farthest from the street as he walks closest.
it was silly— and romantic, and there's a drop of silence before you hear him hum in merriment, his eyes sparkling like the stars.
full of feeling, your cheeks were poignant of a flaming prickle, your whole body burned like fire at his touch as you eagerly listen to what story your boyfriend was telling you about, his smile bringing you the most lustrous light when you entangle your fingers into his arm to press his frame against you.
and suddenly, your lips are tingling with the desire to kiss him, his lips as pink as pink delights. what's the sweetest part about it all was that wriothesley wasn't doing any of this intentionally— in fact, it had always come down to the way he has been all of his life, protective and sheltering, benevolent to the people closest to his heart.
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— zhongli + kisses your forehead whenever you meet
"hello, my love," zhongli's face lights up the moment he sees you, and it's a lot more personal by how particularly he smiled at you— because before catching your frame in midst the busy streets of liyue, his facial features were stern and a little frozen, although when he finally finds you, he smiles and it takes away his cold instantly, a slow upturn of his mouth revealing small dimples around his sides.
"i missed you," he admits, and zhongli moves closer before capturing your cheeks in his warm palms, planting a subtle kiss on your forehead as he presses you against his chest firmly— his golden eyes bright enough to make even broken glass glow and shimmer like a treasure on its own again.
you mumble out through a chain of muffled words at the slightly tight embrace of your boyfriend, "i missed you too," and listlessly wrap your arms around his waist, "in fact, i missed you more," you tease as he presses dozen of little kisses on your head.
as much as zhongli would love to hug you for what he sought out to be eternity, he knows he cannot remain like this forever, at least not while being crowded by the people of liyue— although pondering about it more deeply, he figured that theoretically speaking, he could be able to hug you from day to night without letting you go, but people might start looking at you both so that'll be a negative and turn things uncomfortable.
"you know it's impossible for you to miss me more?" he slowly pulls you off his chest before pinching your cheek, "i long for you day and night," as his grin shines in tandem with the dancing joy of his eyes, unable to tear their focus away from you.
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— neuvillette + can't stop worshipping you
after a long, arduous day consisting of responsibilities, you plopped onto the giant, comfortable bed you shared with neuvillette before you felt the mattress slightly dip under the added weight of his body as he climbs over to lean one arm around your frame.
as he does this, his face instantly burns into the nook of your neck before he begins to caress it— obviously in those moments he was content with you, starting with a handful of soft, warm kisses until he could feel you smile, or notice your body heat raise.
it's pretty clear his senses were sharp, you cannot hide anything from your boyfriend, even if you tried.
you yawn out, opening your arms for his body to properly nestle in before wrapping your limbs around his frame to keep him close, "what did i do to deserve this?" you whisper sarcastically, squeezing him a little tighter into you, "is something the matter?"
neuvillette hums deeply before smothering one hand from your chest to your hips, his lips stretching into a lazy smile, creating a swirling haven on his handsome face, "nothing at all, everything is fine," he assures you with another kiss, his hot breath fanning over the dampened skin on your neck.
basking into the comfortable engage of your arms around his frame, he continues, "i have simply missed what's mine, that is all,"
"and you deserve this," you hear him mumble, "each and every day to be admired and loved,"
he places a kiss on your shoulder, the softness of his lips compelling, "i want to give you this," as he slowly continues to slide his lips over your collarbone, full of passionate crescendos.
your skin trembles and goosebumps arise on your neck as you unwind to his skilled. tender interludes, precisely in neuvillette taking care of you, shooting you a gentle smile before he searches for your lips next.
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— diluc + likes to hold your hand all the time
it doesn't matter where the both of you were or what activity you participated in, because for neither diluc nor you this was something out of the ordinary anymore and began to become a necessity— like breathing, he required your touch, and his heart fluttered every time he felt your energy invade his.
your laugh was his favorite sound and your voice was the last tune he needed to hear before he'd close his eyes, always awaiting the flicker of longing in your caress.
but before you have found each other in this relationship, the master of the dawn winery has never considered himself to be an overly touchy individual, in fact, he was everything else but pleased whenever someone would become way too comfortable with him and overstep any boundaries.
what's funny about love is that how fast it can change things in someone— beyond looks, touches or shared smiles, there were feelings that only you two were able to understand.
diluc hadn't realized how easy and effortless it can be the moment you meet your soulmate, it's transparent and pure and you cannot get enough of them, it's useless to even try and you want to feel them again and again, until their warmth swathes through your skin and intertwines like dancers in a ballet.
in the beginning, it had started with quick and easy placements of his palm on your back or around your shoulders, but after a while, diluc wanted to turn it a little more intimate— he didn't say anything or mention it to you, but one day at a silent night in mondstadt, when he looked at you, really looked at you, he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession of love and affirmation.
to diluc ragnvindr, the act of falling in love was the acknowledgement that he was in the presence of someone so special that it aches his heart, a journey with unexpected twists and turns— for the first time and in that moment, he knew that you were deserving of love to the fullest, without holding back.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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ldrfanatic · 4 months
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Oh Bella
Italian!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
synopsis - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them
cute, lazy fluff, no angst just happy vibes for a happy christmas :)
slytherin boys masterlist navigation
warning - internet translated Italian
(got these ideas from Ben and Fabio on instagram they’re so funny)
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It wasn’t easy to date Theodore Nott. It was always rewarding but it wasn’t always easy.
For starters, Theo grew up in Italy and has one of the thickest Italian accents you’ve ever heard. There were a few times over the course of your relationship that you had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. Like when he was trying to tell you that Draco had invited you out on a double date with himself and Hermione.
You had just woken up from a nap when Theo walked into the Slytherin common room after quidditch practice. He flashed you a breath taking smile and all but skipped up to you as you rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your heart melting in your chest at the sight of your adorable boyfriend.
“Buongiorno Bella.” (good morning beautiful) Theo swooped down and delivered a soft kiss to the side of your face before plopping down next to you on the couch. “Guess what?” You hummed in response as you snuggled deep into his side.
“What’s up Theo?”
“At quidditch practice today, Draco says that you and I, we can go out double with them.”
In your tired brain, Theo’s words made even less sense. You sat up from his side and stared at him with your brows furrowed. “Huh?” Theo stared blankly back at you. He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face.
“Still asleep, Bella?”
You shook your head lightly but it didn’t convince either of you entirely. A chuckle rumbled through Theo and his chest vibrated in laughter.
“Draco says we can go double out with Herminone.”
Now it was your turn to laugh at the way Theo pronounced Hermione’s name. You’d all been friends for about two years now since she and Draco had started dating, but he still couldn’t quite pronounce her name correctly.
Finally deciphering his thick accent and slightly broken, but still cute English, realization dawned upon you. You tried to smother a smile as you stared at your boyfriend in pure adoration. “You mean he invited us to double date with them?”
Theo looked at you for a few seconds before standing up and sighing a little dramatically.
“Mio dio Bella, that’s what I said”
“Mmm of course, Theo.”
So, dating Theodore Nott was not without its challenges. But it also wasn’t without its fun.
1.
It was Mattheo’s birthday so of course the Slytherin common room was filled to the brim with drugs, alcohol, and probably the sluttiest girls in all of Hogwarts. Theo was sitting at a table off in the corner with both of your guys’ drinks and was noticeably uncomfortable in such an environment.
You’d gone to get ice for your sex on the beach when you had a mischevious idea. You scooped a little more ice into the cup and started making your way back to Theo.
You caught sight of Mattheo what was sitting on one of the large couches dead center in the room. He had three girls all over him right now and Lorenzo was giggling uncontrollably as he passed him a joint. Mattheo caught your eye and winked playfully. He liked to flirt with you to rile Theo up a little bit every once in a while.
You finally made it back to your table where Theo was swirling a deep red wine in a glass. His lips quirked up in a small smile as you took your seat next to him. Without speaking, he reached out and pulled your chair impossibly closer to his before throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Ciao Bella.”
Your entire body bloomed at the sound of his thick accent over his husky voice. Warmth settled over you like a fluffy blanket on a snowy morning.
“Ciao Theo.”
The surprise on Theo’s face was more than enough to make you happy that you’d taken up Italian recently. You practiced with Lorenzo in some of your free time and he was a pretty good teacher. You made eye contact with Theo and winked before settling into his side.
Theo immediately became suspicious as you were known for your antics.
“What are you up to Il mio piccolo piantagrane, hm?” (my little troublemaker)
“Nothing Theo, relax.”
He stared at you suspiciously for a few seconds before his body finally loosened.
The opportunity was too great to miss.
You leaned over both of your drinks and dumped ice into your sex on the beach before then dropping a few ice cubes into Theo’s wine.
His reaction was nearly instantaneous.
“Oh! Bella, no! No, no, no!” His lips turned up in disgust and multiple muted expressions left his mouth in what you assumed were Italian swears.
“Che diavolo? Ghiaccio nel vino? No! Il vino è sacro.”
(what the hell? ice in wine? no! wine is sacred.)
A large hand came and ran through his messy curls and the laugh you’d been surprising burst suddenly from your chest. Theo’s eyes snapped to yours and you recognized the mischievous glint.
A squeal left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat and took off around the common room with him hot on your tail.
2.
The second time that you decided to make your poor sweet Italian boyfriend question all decisions to be with you was at dinner one night. You weren’t intentionally teasing him at first as you stared down at your empty plate trying to think of what you wanted.
You glanced over to Theo’s plate next to you and saw a mouthwatering pasta that he’d conjured. You tugged gently on the sleeve of his green sweater and his attention found yours immediately.
“What’s wrong, bellissima?”
“Can you get me some of that, please Theo?”
“Of course.”
He took your plate in his hands and after a few seconds his dish was sitting in front of you. You noted how he made sure there were no tomatoes in yours like there were in his. Theo knew you hated tomatoes. It was so sweet it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do to his little Italian heart.
Almost.
Theo picked up his fork and started to dig into his food before he stopped abruptly. Lorenzo too stopped eating his own food and the pair stared at you incredulously as you shoveled the pasta into your mouth.
“Oh Bella.”
He seemed more horrified than anything else. You loaded more food into your mouth being careful to eat as much as a lady as you could.
“No.” You stared at him blankly with a sheepish look before resuming your meal. “Bella, no. Twirl. Like this,” Theo picked up his fork and expertly swirled the noodles around before bringing it up to his mouth.
You offered him a gentle grin before promptly resuming what you were doing before. From across the table Lorenzo started whisper screaming at Theo in Italian.
“Theo, Cosa c'è che non va nella tua ragazza? Lei mangia la pasta come una bambina!” (what’s wrong with your girlfriend? she eats pasta like a child!)
Theo stared at you astounded as redness crept up his face. Then it finally dawned on him that you were teasing.
“Bella per favoreee.” He dragged out his words with a small smile on his face at your teasing. You both knew that you knew the proper way to eat pasta.
“No more teasing love.” You nodded through your giggles and Theo wrapped a thick arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.
3.
So, you knew that you promised Theo no more teasing last week but when you overheard him and Lorenzo complaining earlier in the most adorable stuttered English you couldn’t help yourself. You were walking down towards the common room to get lunch with the boys.
Theo, Lorenzo, and Mattheo were sitting in the common room all having a discussion. Suddenly you heard your boyfriend’s sweet Italian symphony of a voice shift into one of astonishment. You peeked around the corner and saw both him and Lorenzo staring at Mattheo like he’d just said the most offensive thing ever.
“What do you mean you have the cappuccino in the afternoon, huh?” His fingers came to rub at his temples and you had to stifle your laugh behind your hand. “Puah! cappuccino è solo per la mattina.” (Cappuccino is only for the morning).
Mattheo stared blankly at the two. Finally you decided to step in before the vein in Theo’s forehead burst.
“Theo? I’m ready.”
By the time that you made it to the Great Hall, the boys seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. Mattheo walked quietly in step next to you while Theo and Lorenzo conversed in Italian so quickly your head was spinning.
“Psst. Y/n I have an idea on how to make that little Italian boy of yours blow a fuse.”
(“Maledizione Lorenzo, non credi che se sapessi cosa regalarle non andrei fuori di testa?”)
You cursed yourself that you couldn’t understand what they were saying. After staring at the side of Theo’s handsome face for a few moments longer you let out a disgruntled noise and turned to Mattheo.
“Fine! What?”
And that was how you found yourself in this situation.
Trying your absolute hardest to keep a straight face without looking at Theo at all while you sipped on your cappuccino that you’d conjured in your cup.
“Oh Bella.”
Theo’s familiar distressed tone rang out from next to you. “You cannot be series, amore mio.”
“Do you mean serious, Theo?” Mattheo chimed in with an amused smirk.
Theo made a dismissive Italian noise and waved Mattheo off. He swore under his breath before grabbing the side of your face and turning it to him. “Bellissima, it is too late for a cappuccino!”
You smirked up at your distraught boyfriend and pressed a quick kiss to the softness of his cheek. “I know, amore.”
Theo stared at you before throwing his hands up in the air and turning back towards his lunch. Mattheo’s deep laugh burst out and you couldn’t help yourself but to laugh along with him.
You were so busy laughing you hadn’t noticed that Theo was staring at you with a smile. He was so very in love with you.
+ one time you celebrated Theo’s Italian roots
April 25th was meant to be celebratory. La Festa della Resistenza. And Theodore Nott was stuck at quidditch practice.
Meanwhile, you were scurrying around the common room with Lorenzo trying to set up the perfect surprise for Theo. With Italy’s Liberation Day approaching, you’d noticed Theo had been a little down lately. You knew that it was because he was missing his family.
Normally, his mother would prepare a big feast and the family would sing the song of the resistance, Bella Ciao. You’d taken a floo to his home in Italy and gotten some recipes from his mother directly, all his favorites. And now, you were trying desperately to teach a group of first year Slytherins how to sing the song that you’d been practicing for weeks.
You sighed deeply as you realized the little buggers you bribed with a few galleons each were not at all going to get the song down in time. You conjured your purse and shelled out a few galleons to each child before shooing them out of the common room.
By the time Theo got back from quidditch practice, everything was perfect. You were standing in the center of the room in a deep red dress that you knew was his favorite. When he saw the spread, Theo thought his heart might stop. You looked nothing short of stunning.
“Oh Bella.”
It didn’t hold any of the distress that it normally did. This time his tone was thick with adoration. Theo felt a lump moving up his throat that caught tears behind his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest. This was one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for him.
Just when he was certain you couldn’t get anymore perfect, your sweet voice rang out in an impossibly beautiful symphony that rivaled Pavarotti.
“Una mattina mi sono alzato
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao
Una mattina mi sono alzato
E ho trovato l'invasor.”
Theo held you closer to his chest and pressed his forehead against yours as he joined for the next verse.
“O partigiano, portami via
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao
O partigiano, portami via
Che mi sento di morir.”
The two of you swayed as Lorenzo joined and the three of you sang the rest of the song together. When you finished, you all made plates and sat down in the common room.
“When did you learn all of this, Bella?”
You smiled gently at Theo while he stared at you like you were the most perfect being in the world.
“I took a trip to Italy to see your mother a little bit ago. She told me about La Festa della Resistenza the Celebration of the Resistance. She talked about how important it was to Italy’s history and that it marked the Resistance victory in the Italian Civil War. Then when I saw how sad you were to be away from home at this time I knew I had to do something.”
In that moment, Theo knew that there wasn’t anybody he’d ever loved as much as he loved you. He took your face in both of his hands and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.
“This is perfect, bellissima, thank you so much.”
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Beacon — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
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Art by the amazing @ave661
"She's kicking." Simon whispers, head delicately laying on your pregnant tummy, feeling the tiny kicks with his face and hands. His eyes are closed, fully focusing on the sensation he has been infatuated with for months.
"It tickles like hell." You comment with a laugh, hand running through his short hair, holding him closer to your body as a content sigh escapes your lips. He chuckles softly at your words, his hand delicately tracing patterns on your stomach while he talks to the baby, whispers you can't even make out.
"Someone's chatty today." You tease and he playfully rolls his eyes, gaze drifting up towards you, ignoring the way his cheeks hurt from smiling ever since he came back to his pregnant wife.
"What're we naming her?" He asks softly, looking completely relaxed as he lays there with you, feeling the baby kick away like the troublemaker you're both sure she'll be.
"I was thinking about giving her your mum's name, if that's okay with you." You tread carefully, tone gentle and soft, knowing fully well just how delicate this topic is. He looks away, expression hardening slightly as he thinks about it. If anyone else saw his face, they'd think he's angry, but you know that face too well— eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled into a straight line, and unblinking eyes looking at a random place in the room. He's deep in thought for what seems like hours, yet it was only seconds before he looked back up at you, gaze immediately softening.
"That'd be nice." Is all he can manage to say at first, heart beating so fast in his chest it feels like it's going to burst out, the memories of his mum are a wound in his soul that never closed.
"Thank you." He speaks softly, eyes closing as he leans the side of his face on your stomach, the baby's tiny feet kicking at his cheek gently. "Thank you for letting me have a piece of her back." Simon Riley thought he cried all his tears away as a child, yet no one can deny the wetness making his eyes sting, dotting his long eyelashes.
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cosmicschmidt · 5 months
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UNTIL I FOUND YOU
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PART 2, PART 3
Coriolanus Snow x fem!Reader
Synopsis: When the 18 year old Coriolanus Snow recieves the news that he has to mentor a tribute in order to claim the Plinth Prize, he expected everything but not a shy girl from district 12 to claim his heart.
Word count: 2,4K
Warnings: Lucy Gray does not exsist in this (I´m sorry), some things might not fully add up to the movie plot ´cause I only saw it once and that was two days ago, use of Y/N, it´s implied that the reader is shorter than Coryo, small swearing, simple inhumane Hunger Games topics
Reblogs and requests are always welcomed <3 (just like pointing out grammatical mistakes :))
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Coriolanus Snow did not mean for this to happen.
He did not intend to have this weird tingly feeling in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of her.
He did not mean to fall for his tribute from District 12.
As he patiently sat in his seat with his heart hammering in his chest due to not knowing if he´d receive the scholarship, adrenaline and excitement ran through his veins.
Yet, that was taken from him the moment Sejanus Plinth whispered to him that that certain day he looked forward to would not turn out as he hoped.
The Plinth Prize was won by the best mentor.
Each of them has to mentor a tribute and create the best version of them, create strategies and work on their behavior in the arena.
As all the tributes are presented, their names called alongside their mentors, Coriolanus´ hands start to sweat the longer he is not told who he has to work with.
The faces of his fellow students show different emotions, some cheer in happiness at their tributes state, others are laced with worry if their tribute even manages to walk straight.
"And last but not least, the girl from District 12, Coriolanus Snow."
His eyes shoot back to the small screen, his gaze falls to the name written underneath the short clip, Y/N L/N.
"I volunteer as tribute."
The screen shows a screaming girl, around the age of 11 as she trashes in the hold of someone else´s arms, desperately trying to escape their grasp to reach the other girl.
The other girl's face is slightly blurred due to the wide angle of the camera that is following her figure, but as the picture clears up, Coriolanus can´t help but suck in a breath.
A weird feeling boils in his chest that causes his heartbeat to pick up behind his ribcage, just as he thought it couldn´t get worse a few butterflies form in his stomach causing his white tunic to suddenly feel tighter. His hands go to the collar pulling a little on the fabric to calm his heartbeat.
The tribute from 12, stepped in for the younger girl and took her fate as her own. The girl, now known as Y/N doesn´t look back at the screaming girl, she takes small steps to the stage and steps on it the moment she reaches it.
Although her hands tremble beside her body, her eyes are stern and show no emotion, successfully keeping herself from spilling the dread that formed in her chest the moment her little sister's name was called.
"What a twist! Our first ever volunteer of 12, what an honor." the 12´s mayor speaks, yet no reaction falls from the crowd at his attempt to lighten the mood.
"I suppose that was your sister? Sweet little thing just turned 12, but luckily she has you as her big sister." Mayor Lipp tries to create small talk, but Y/N doesn´t seem to take interest in that, her eyes boring into the camera that is fixated on her face.
Everyone that surrounds Coriolanus watches intensely and waits for her next words.
Y/N´s jaw clenches a little as her gaze wanders over her district's citizens, some laugh at her situation, while others, alongside her family have tears in their eyes and hold a hand in front of their mouths to contain a sob from spilling past their lips.
Instead of words leaving her mouth, she does a mocking and overly dramatic bend forward with her arms stretched out on each side of her body.
Just as two Peacekeepers grab a hold of her arms and pull her off the stage she yells out,
"YOU CAN ALL SUCK I-" but her words muffle due to her being pulled away.
Meanwhile, everyone around Coriolanus starts to whisper.
Some voice behind him, "Who does she think she is?"
"Imagine having to work with that, guess who won´t win the Plinth Prize.." followed by laughing.
And more to his left, "The audacity, I´m telling you she´s the first to bleed out." followed by more remarks and chuckles.
Though Coriolanus can’t feel bothered by their remarks, as he watches her being dragged away from the stage with a stern look on her face.
The blonde watches with bewilderment yet with respect for her volunteering for someone else, a small smirk forming on his face as the side of his mouth pull up a little.
* ˚ ✦
Coriolanus´ gaze is fixated on the white rose in his palms, his eyes trail over each and every flaw he can spot.
Is it pretty enough?
Or is this gesture not normal in the relationship between a mentor and their tribute?
He wonders how you might react to this act of politeness, yet before he can keep up with his thoughts he´s pulled out of it when he hears the train near the train station.
There it is, it glides against the train racks before it comes to a harsh stop with a small screech, the blonde´s eyes trail over the different train carts, wondering where the certain girl from 12 is being kept.
At least a dozen armed Peacekeepers emerge from around the station, and the first cart´s handle is grabbed forcefully and shoved open, a small girl hesitantly jumps down to the ground, before she erupts into a few coughs as if she has to catch her breath from taking a run.
She´s followed by a tall boy who wears a expression he can´t read, although his brows are furrowed and a small line forms between them. The tall male´s eyes immediately find Coriolanus due to his bloody red outfit.
The male doesn´t seem to be the only one, almost everyone that already emerged from their part of the train has their eyes on him.
He fidgets with the rose again, a shiver running down his spine and all the way to his feet and then his toes.
As some tributes are escorted to the transporter outside, Coriolanus finally spots the male tribute from District 12, he remembers his name, Jessup. With a sigh of relief, he takes a few steps to him, and finally, his eyes spot the girl he so desperately tried to find the entire time.
Jessup´s hands are securely wrapped around her waist as he picks her up and helps her out of the train so she can steady herself. She smiles up at Jessup whispers a small ´thanks´ and pats him on his upper arm before she starts to take in all her surroundings.
Although their conversation is muffled, "Are you sure your neck is fine? The bite looks painful..."
Coriolanus´ breathing stops for a second, just now he notices that no camera ever will be able to take in all her beauty, his lips part a little and he can feel his mouth running dry.
Now that Y/N dusted her clothes off and had taken a look around the train station, her eyes move to her right and are met with piercing blue orbs. Although she acknowledged him, he couldn´t help but keep staring at her, the white rose in his left hand long forgotten as it rested next to his body. Confusion dawned on her face as she looked over to Jessup who offered the same expression.
The two of them share a look with a shrug before she turns her back to Coriolanus and starts to take a few steps away from him.
The blonde seems to snap out of it and with a small shake of his head and with two steps he keeps up with her smaller ones.
"Uhm- Welcome to the Capitol." he offers her a smile and holds the rose up for her to see.
Her mouth set in a hard line while her cheeks glowed a tad bit redder than before, "You don´t look like you should be here…?" she asked unsure, her eyes still trained up at his face before they fell on the flower in his hand - which slightly started to tremble -
"Uhm, I shouldn´t, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and I´m your mentor," he adds, the smile still coating his lips as he offers her the rose again.
"Mentor?" she laughs out in disbelief after she finally takes the flower out of his trembling hand and looks at it. Jessup is standing behind her, and his face still shows the same confusion it did earlier.
"Yeah, it´s my job to help you survive the arena," Coriolanus replies, the moment she took the rose out of his grasp his hand went limp and fell back to his side.
"And how exactly-" Y/N doesn´t get the opportunity to reply to his words before someone roughly pulls on her arm and drags her forcefully to the exit of the train station.
Peacekeepers decided to cut their conversation short, they pulled her with them like she weighed nothing, "I can walk by myself perfectly fine." she said loudly before she slapped the hand that was wrapped around her biceps off.
"Wait! I´m her Mentor!" Coriolanus speaks up, yet the distance between mentor and tribute is growing with each second, and the blonde picks up his steps in order to keep up with them.
A few shouts and orders are ringing through the air, the atmosphere filled with dread and an uncomfortable tension. Outside awaits a transporter for the tributes, and like pigs they are thrown and shoved into it, ready to be taken to the slaughterhouse.
The district 12 girl's eyes are trailing behind her trying to catch a glimpse of the red that coats her so-called ´mentor´, she can´t seem to see him but his shouts still reach her ringing ears.
A small hand wraps around her right hand startling the 17-year-old girl, but she quickly relaxes when she sees the small girl from District 8, Wovey. She seems scared by the loud noises, and Y/N offers her a small smile and squeeze of the hand in order to calm her down. Y/N spots a small seat at the back right corner and leads her over to it, there´s not enough space for the both of them, so she lets Wovey take it and stands beside her.
Coriolanus´ opportunity seems to flash in front of him for a split second as a tribute tries to make a run for it, the Peacekeepers running close behind, and with three steps the blonde leaps into the back of the transporter.
He runs all the way to the back of it, before he takes a few breaths trying to tame the adrenaline that shoots through his veins, his breathing calming down from the small thrill he felt.
He straightens down his clothes, and immediately spots Y/N, hand-in-hand with the little girl, her eyes holding awe, yet mostly confusion at why he just ran after her. "What are you doing here?" she whisper-yells, in order not to attract the Peacekeeper's attention.
He can´t help but draw his lower lip between his teeth, letting his actions sink in "Yeah who the hell are you?"
"Uhm-" he starts to speak up, as the other tributes´ eyes hold anger and confusion, most of them standing up and taking a few steps closer to him, cornering him a little. The red that radiates from his red clothes alerts the others.
"I suppose he´s my mentor." Y/N quickly speaks up, her voice cutting through the tension that started to build itself.
"What the hell is a mentor? And why did you get one but we didn´t?"
"Did she get one just because she was the first to volunteer?"
Y/N opens her mouth again to reply but Coriolanus beats her to it, "No, you all get a mentor, I promise the same chances are laid out for everyone." he says with a slightly raised voice so everyone hears his words.
A few unamused chuckles emerge from the ´crowd´ that formed around him, nevertheless a tall guy grabs him by the collar and slams Coriolanus back against the wall behind him pulling a gasp from his lips.
"Don´t shit talk us, what are you doing here?! Are you here to spy on us? What sick games did you plan?!" he yells in his face, although Coriolanus is taller than him, he raises his hands in surrender in order to calm the angry tribute.
Y/N sighs and softly drops Wolvey´s hand onto the girl's lap, she takes a step forward rests her hand on the tribute´s shoulder gently yet harshly, and pushes against him.
"You get your own mentor, now drop it," she says loudly, the tributes around them purse their lips and keep looking at Coriolanus like he´s some meal they can devour.
"A Capitol´s sweetheart could be helpful, why not kill him to send a fucking message." everyone around them agrees except for Y/N and a few in the back, them equally as terrified as Coriolanus.
Coriolanus laughs at their ´plan´ and breathes out a few pained breathes due to him being pressed against the wall, however, before anyone else gets the chance to speak up, the container they are kept in starts to shake a little and then does a jump that causes everyone to lose their balance. The tribute that held the blonde up against the wall let go of him, the everyone including Coriolanus hold onto the nearest thing they could find to steady themselves.
Y/N yelps at the sudden movement that throws her forward and grabs onto Coriolanus´ right arm, the boy in question sneaks his right arm around her waist to steady her and takes hold of a handle that sticks out of the metal wall.
With a rumble and another much harsher shake of the container, the doors suddenly swing open and the place they were kept in for the past 10 minutes moves upwards, changing the position from vertical to horizontal.
A few screams erupt from the group of tributes, and everyone starts to slide out like bags of flour. Y/N yelps again and tries to hold onto Coriolanus, he manages to hold both of their weights, but Y/N´s grip on him loosens when she wiggles in his grasp.
"Wait- Y/N hold on!" he hisses out, but Y/N moves in his grasp trying to get a hold of Wovey´s hand who´s close to sliding down as well.
"Grab my hand!" she yells, but Wovey slips away, and Y/N watches the little girl and Jessup move out of her view into the unknown.
Y/N removes herself from his grasp, just as Coriolanus can´t hold them up anymore due to the shaking wagon, and they all slide into whatever the Capitol planned for them.
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I might consider writing a second part! I hope you enjoyed reading this <33
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yuwuta · 21 days
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CAN’T KEEP MY HANDS TO MYSELF (I MEAN I COULD, BUT WHY WOULD I WANT TO?) — JJK BOYS + TOO HOT
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featuring. gojo, okkotsu, choso, itadori, fushiguro
content, warnings. playing too hot with the jjk boys—(too hot is a party game in which two people kiss while keeping their hands to themselves; the first person to touch their partner loses), making out, tongue sucking, uhhh slight predator/prey in yuuta’s oops, they’re a bunch of losers to be honest, there’s a word for the thing yuuji does but i don't know it lolol
word count. 1.6k
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SATORU GOJO Satoru is prideful, but you also know that he is nothing if not handsy, borderline clingy on his worst days. The concept of personal space is foreign to him, he’s rarely not touching you when you’re in his proximity, and when you aren’t, he closes that gap—so you’re confident that he’ll lose this game. 
And he does. It takes ninety-two seconds for Satoru to put his hands on you; his palms cupping your cheeks, forcing your jaw open for him to lick at your tongue. You yelp in surprise, try to take in your victory, taunt that you’ve won, but Satoru’s playing an entirely different game now. “I know, I lost,” he pushes his thumbs at the corners of your mouth, parting your lips and staring at your open mouth. Briefly, his eyes flicker to yours, drinks in your pliant expression, the soft touch of your fingers around his wrists, the feel of your body sinking below him, and he smiles, “But I want something else right now. Indulge me?” 
You tap at his right wrist and he moves his thumbs away from your lips, stroking against the soft skin of your cheeks instead so you can speak, “You lost, you’re not supposed to make demands.” 
“Take pity on a rookie like me, won’t you?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to kiss your cheek, then closer, just below your bottom lip, “Please, sweets?” 
“Depends on what you want,” you pout, but your words are strained against Satoru’s kisses. He grins, guiding a thumb back to your lips, this time pressing past the barrier of your lips until they’re wrapped around his digit, smile turning cheshire when he feels you sucking, “I have a different game we can play instead.” 
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YUUTA OKKOTSU “Ah, ah—” you pull away from Yuuta, much to his dismay, pulling the hem of your shirt from his grasp, “That counts as touching. You’re not supposed to touch, Yuuta.” 
He’s looking at you intensely, gaze bordering on predatory, slow blinking with blown-out pupils. He nods shallowly, moving his hand from where it was to your side, palm pressing into the couch next to your thigh; it lets him that much closer to you, the tip of his nose grazing yours, you can feel his laborious breaths tickle your lips. Yuuta tilts his head ever so slightly and pauses, blinks, waits—for you to make a sound, for you to tell him no again, for you to run. 
You don’t. He shifts his weight and positions his other hand to rest at your side, caging you between his arms, slotting you underneath his gaze. You curl underneath him, backing up until you’re pressed against the arm of the couch, until Yuuta’s crawled to slot his knee between your legs. You crane your neck away, but you’re still within his reach, and now you’ve presented the perfect canvas for him. He dips his head into your collarbone, leaves a deceptively soft kiss there before nosing up the expanse of your exposed skin and sinking his teeth into your neck. 
Yuuta feels you tense underneath him, body going rigid in a moment of surprise, and then slacking with an exhaled moan, like a bitten bunny. Reflexively, your hands find purchase in his hair, and Yuuta nips over the tender skin, and smiles, “Caught you.” 
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CHOSO KAMO “You’re nervous,” you conclude, pulling away from the shallow kiss Choso gave you. 
Beside you, he’s flushed, a hand coming up to reach at the back of his neck as he replies, “I don’t know why,” he exhales, “It’s just... weird to not touch you. I have to think about not touching you, and that means I have to think, which tends to make me, you know... nervous.” 
You giggle, leaning in closer to him, careful not to touch; careful to keep your hips raised above his, even as you straddle him, keep your arms and hands at your sides even though the instinct is to wrap them around Choso’s neck. He doesn’t pull back, even though he should; you like that he doesn’t. “You don’t like to think about me?” 
“No—no! Not like that,” he’s too loud for the proximity, sighing in embarrassment shortly after; you’re too close, way too close, and he’s not supposed to touch, but he wants to—Choso doesn’t like this feeling of restraint, of constriction; it’s too close to when he had a hopeless crush on you, to when he was pining and praying you’d spare him the time of day. Isn’t the point of dating that he gets to have you? To touch you, to hold you—to not hold back? 
“Because I like to think about you,” you admit, leaning in even closer, pressing a kiss to the base of Choso’s neck—and he whines, “I think about you a lot, Choso.” 
The sound of his name from your lips is sweet torture, as is the way you trail your kisses up his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear. Choso’s certain he’s going to rip a hole in his jeans with how taut he’s pulling them between his fists. This isn’t fair—nothing about this is fair. “I don’t want to play anymore,” Choso whines, eyes screwing shut when you suck a hickey onto his collar.
“But we’ve only just started,” you giggle against his skin, “And nobody’s won yet.”
Choso bites his lips, his knuckles are sore, his resolve is weak, and you smell good, you feel good—and he can’t do this. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care; he didn’t make you yours to try and stay away from you. So, Choso gives in, unwinds his fists, places one hand on your waist, and the other against your back, pulling you flush against him, and burying his face in your neck. 
“There, I lose,” he grumbles, not caring for your laughter reverberating against his chest, “Now I can touch you as much as I want.” 
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YUUJI ITADORI “Th—this isn’t fair,” you tremble, attempting to move away from his kisses, but you’re caged in between Yuuji and the wall. There’s nowhere for you to run, nothing for you to grab purchase onto but Yuuji—nothing to do but lose. 
“I didn’t hear any rules against this,” he feigns innocence, suckling at your skin, “Think it’s fair game.”
You close your eyes, trying to focus on something, anything else, but it’s hard when all you can see, all you can feel is Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji. Kissing up your neck, at your cheek, then your lips, and you find yourself sighing into his touch, balling your hands into fists to avoid the temptation of cupping his face. 
Yuuji moans when he feels your tongue against his, kisses you back fervently, swirling his tongue across yours and into the cavity of your mouth. He inhales all your breaths, makes it impossible for you to do anything but succumb to his kiss, to swallow his moans, to take everything he gives you. You didn’t expect Yuuji to have this much resolve—you’d anticipated a short, cute round of a silly party game, but you should have known better; Yuuji has never lost a challenge before, and you were naive, at best, to think otherwise.
Predictably, it’s you that lets go first, whining when Yuuji sucks on your tongue, hands trembling and reaching to hold him, to cling to him as some kind of recourse, unable to squirm or move anywhere else. That doesn’t stop him—Yuuji only sucks harder, only forces more moans out of you until you’re digging your nails into his shoulders and bending your knees, weak. 
Then he pulls back, leaving you breathless, tilting his head up to kiss your forehead and flashing you a grin that’s equal parts boyish and wicked with intent, “I win.” 
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO It’s the kind of thing he usually turns down; cliché, fruitless, and unnecessarily time-consuming; but it’s you, so he makes the exception. You’re too eager, positioning yourself to sit on your hands, your legs folded under your knees, peering up at him from where he’s sat slack against the couch, and he thinks you look awful cute on your knees for him.
“Okay, ready?” you smile, “Three, two—” but Megumi already knows his plan, already has his lips on yours before you can say “one,” drinking in your surprised yelp and greedily licking against your tongue when you part your lips to kiss him back. He turns his body towards you slightly, taking advantage of his height and position to bully you into chasing him upwards, to push his tongue into your mouth with ease. 
He indulges in the back and forth for a while, sighs into your kisses, groans when you nip at him. It’s when you pull away, that Megumi decides he’s played along long enough; when he can see your chest swell with heaving breaths, see your hands in your lap, neck craned and spit-slick lips that drive him to reach for you. He’s less than gentle, hands finding purchase on your hips, and forcefully pulling you into his lap, ignoring your yelping, choosing to turn them into moans when he sinks his teeth into your neck. Megumi licks, and bites, and bites, and bites, until he’s certain he’s left a mark, until he feels your hands tugging at his hair and giving him permission to splay his palms against your back and buck you forward.  
“I lose,” he hums, soothing over raw bitten skin with open-mouthed kisses, “So, how do you wanna punish me?”
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