Donkeyshrong - Noelle - Tumblr Blog

I LOVE HIM SM

18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni.

tendou x f!reader, kinda fwb to lovers, idk squirting brings ppl together, it's a little silly at the end, enjoy.

warnings: squirting, creampie, overstim (m&f)

"Hold your legs for me, baby." He grunted into the crook of your neck, pushing himself up by your thighs. You hooked your arms under the crooks of your knees, spreading yourself wider for Tendou to drool over. He rolled his eyes back, only opening them again to focus on the way his cock was gliding into you so easily. With his hands now free, he brought one up to his mouth, unceremoniously spreading his spit against his fingertips before gently rubbing small circles around your clit. You mewled at the new sensation, sending tingles throughout your core as the high you were riding began building faster.

"'Tori, 'm gonna, fuck. You're gonna make me cum," You hid your face behind your hands, feeling the skin of your neck begin to heat up until it burned all the way to your cheeks. It was embarrassing, how easily he got you to fall apart. You were like dough, pliant beneath his skilled fingers and willing to mould yourself around his cock whenever he called and said that he needed you.

His free hand wrapped around your wrists, pulling your hands down and pinning them against your stomach. He smiled at you, never slowing his thrusts or the way his fingers danced across your too-sensitive clit.

"Who are you hiding from? You know I like to see the face you make when you finally cream on my dick."

His words were so vulgar, they made your head spin every time he talked like this, but you couldn't help clench at the way they made you feel. He pulled out, until just the tip was left inside of you, and licked his lips at the sight of his cockhead spreading your pussy open so wide. It was downright sinful the way he slammed back into you so harshly, laughing at the way you yelped when his balls slapped against your ass. He did it again, just to see your reaction but was met with something even sweeter the second time.

He knew what was going on before even you did, and he wished he could've captured the look on your face once you'd realised to cherish forever. His hips stilled, with his cock still stuffing you to the hilt as he smiled down at you. Your brows were pulled together in worry, one hand clasped over your mouth like you were horrified.

"S-Satori," your voice was meek, raspy from the moans he was pulling from you for the last hour or so. It was no surprise that your body had been pushed to this point, bullied into orgasm after orgasm by the relentless drive that Tendou had to make you feel incredible.

"You just squirted, didn't you, angel?" His tone was playful, riding the line of condescension as he leaned down, pulling your hand away from your face again. He pressed a hungry kiss against your lips, pulling back only enough to speak clearly. "'s it feel that good when I'm fucking you?"

He grabbed you by the back of the neck, pulling you up to look at your cunt as he began fucking you again. His pelvis was gleaming and wet, covered in your arousal that began leaking out as his thrusts became faster again.

"Look at that mess you made, squirted all over my cock like the good girl you are, huh?" He laughed at you when you nodded, feeling pride swell in his chest at the way you moaned his name so prettily. "How 'bout I cum inside you, hm? Make an even bigger mess of this pretty pussy, you want that?"

You nodded vigorously, preaching yes, please, like they were the only words you knew. He gripped the fat of your thighs, digging his fingers into your skin until it dimpled under his touch as he hammered into you, feeling your walls tighten around him again as you sung his name, letting your head fall back against the pillows as the stimulation became too much. He came with a loud groan, emptying his balls inside of you while fucking you through his own orgasm. His cum rolled down the curve of your ass when he pulled out, sending a shiver down your spine.

Ever insatiable, Tendou continued rocking his hips against your own, grinding his cock against the puffy lips of your pussy, starry-eyed as he watched himself spread his cum against your skin. You shuddered when the head of his dick bumped messily against your clit, and your hands pushed away his hips.

"Can't handle anymore, 'm sorry–"

He chuckled, flopping beside you and using one arm to roll you into his side. He pressed a kiss against your hairline before speaking.

"Don't say you're sorry, I'm just being greedy. I can't get enough of you."

You shifted your thighs, feeling them stick together uncomfortably before laughing under your breath. Tendou placed a hand under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "What's so funny?"

"I'm embarrassed. I've never, you know... Done, that."

"Squirted?"

You smacked his chest, turning your head away from him again. "Tendou!"

He laughed, boisterous and loud, pulling you back against him with a strength that wouldn't allow you to get away from him even if you wanted. "Don't go formal on me now, I just made you squirt for the first time ever. You don't have to call me Tendou anymore, besides, you always call me 'Tori when we're fucking."

"You know, you really have a way with words," you grumbled, laying your head against his chest. "I don't know why you're so amazed, you probably make girls... squirt, all the time."

"Nuh-uh, never have I ever. You're my first little squirt gun."

You rolled your eyes, "I can't stand you."

He stretched his arms out, beaming smile spread wide across his face. "You'd better learn to, I'm not goin' anywhere. My days as a bachelor are over, you're my girl now."

You hid your smile by tucking your chin into the crook of his neck, pressing small kisses against his skin to hear him hum in delight. "Yeah, whatever. Can you get me a towel please?"

He sat up, smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, kneading the fat of your tits with a content sigh before pushing himself off the bed. When he was making his way out of the room, he called over his shoulder, "I'd love to get a towel for you! My girlfriend! The squirter!"

tendou would 100% always make u laugh after sex. my silly little clown. the fire in my loins. i would die for him.

Room 505

Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader , Nanami x Reader

summary : Geto and Gojo were the strongest sorcerers to date in Jujutsu Tech College, you looked up to them and wanted to be just as strong as they were. Lucky for you they were so happy and willing to help you. Under their tutelage you bloomed, but Nanami finds your relationship with them suspicious. A three day mission to exorcise a cursed spirit at a resort, reveals more than Nanami expected.

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

cw : dubcon/noncon , f!reader, Virgin!Nanami , threesome , unprotected sex, coercion, voyeurism, characters are of age ( setting is that Nanami and reader are 19 while Gojo and Geto are 20 in college ) , Gojo and Geto abusing their senpai status , slight degradation, creampie, manipulation, reader calls Geto and Gojo senpai, Nanami catches them and watches, implied squirting, face fucking, slight dumbification

wc: 6.4K

a/n: yes it’s been awhile and I come back with a threesome fic. Thank u for waiting if u waited afsgsjjd thank u for your patience. Hope this doesn’t disappoint huhu just ugh I’m down bad for these three. I suck at writing summaries. Gg. Anywhooo enjoyyyvand don’t forget to reblog and if you like scream and fangirl in my inbox or the comments Huhuhu also will proofread more afshsj don’t mind the errors

M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T

“Why don’t you go get us checked in?”

You were gently nudged to the front desk of the little holiday hotel, not objecting to the powerful jujutsu sorcerer and your senpai by a year in Jujutsu Tech College.

“We’ll look around and see if anything is suspicious, kay?” A soothing voice sounded from your left, the white haired male’s best friend patting your head as the two walked off together to check for any signs of the curse assigned to the team. The team being your two seniors, Geto and Gojo, and you and Nanami.

The blond lingered behind you, hands deep in his pockets and eying the lobby with his slanted eyes, paying you no mind as you checked in for them.

Nanami was usually paired with his best friend Yu on missions, and he wasn’t really enthusiastic about being given any as well. With Nanami, you could relax a little, his presence was soothing to you despite how quiet he appeared on the outside but really, once you strike a conversation that piques his interest he is very sociable.

“Nanamin,” you called out sweetly as you skipped to where he was, watching the people that passed by in the hotel’s lobby.

The moment your voice reached his ears, Nanami felt his ears burn and he met your eyes for a second only to keep his gaze away, opting to look at the beach a few metres out of the hotel.

“We should go check into the rooms,” you spoke, hands behind your back and playing with the hotel keys. “I tried to get three rooms since I knew you wouldn’t want to bunk with Gojo senpai but there were only two rooms left.”

“I can manage,” he reassured you, opening his palm for you to place the room key he was to share with the rest. He’ll probably hold onto it too, if Gojo gets it there’s a 98 percent chance he’d lose it and make you get a new one.

You placed the key on his open palm, his heart skipping a beat when your fingers brushed his skin and smiled at him.

He walked three steps behind you, admiring you a little as you walked ahead and waited for the elevator. The four of you hadn’t come here wearing your uniforms to blend in with the people, you had worn something Gojo had shoved into your hands and pushed you into the women’s restroom in the airport. The white summer dress hugged your torso snuggly, accentuating your curves and the skirt flowed daintily and loose around your waist to your calves. Simple and elegant.

The bell boy followed behind the two of you with Gojo, Geto, his and your bags. The young man eyed you up and down before glancing at Nanami, probably wondering about the nature of your relationship with him.

“Couple getaway?” He asked innocently.

“Huh?” You blinked at the question, your realisation settling in a little late, heat creeping up to your cheeks as you stumbled over your words.

Before the doors of the elevators closed, a foot stopped it from closing, making the doors open again.

“Darling, sorry I took so long,” Gojo’s voice sounded, round dark sunglasses set low on his nose bridge, walking in with Geto right behind him.

Gojo wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side and giving the blushing bellboy a wink.

You didn’t say anything, looking down at your feet instead, your face too hot and sweat collecting in your palms. You could feel Geto’s gentle yet piercing gaze on you, watching in amusement as the much taller male dwarfed you, pretending to be your lover.

Nanami looked away in annoyance, worry blooming deep within his chest as he thought about whether Gojo was making you uncomfortable or not. He was always far too close to his liking, crossing boundaries that you found hard to say no to. Geto usually gets his friend under control but sometimes joins in on the teasing as well.

You couldn’t say no. Not with how you idolised them. Looked up to them and took every praise, guidance and word of advice from them like gospel. It was merely because you believed them to be good people, like Yu, you chose to see and believe the good in people.

Nanami was relieved that Geto would never cross the line nor take advantage of you. He would keep Gojo in check.

“You tell me if our room isn’t to your liking, Hm?” Nanami overheard Gojo , who followed you into your room, still playing the role of boyfriend to fool the bellboy till he left.

“I-it’s fine,” you muttered softly, heart racing to be so close to the Gojo Satoru.

You’ve gotten so close with the two when they offered to tutor you and teach you everything they know, to help you control your cursed energy.

“Don’t worry about Satoru, Nanami. He’s just teasing as usual,” Geto brushed off, taking the middle bed out of the three in the room. He laid down on the bed, hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

“Were there any signs of the curse?” Your small voice broke the silence, Gojo strutting into the room and heading straight to the minibar.

“Not yet. Most of the cases happened after the sun had completely gone down. So we have to wait a bit,” Geto informed the team, Nanami absorbing the information to make sure he’d be able to protect you.

“How dangerous is it?” Your brows knitted together with worry, sitting on the edge of Nanami’s bed.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Gojo grinned with confidence, opening a can of soda. “Besides, you're the strongest right here.”

Nanami let out a deep annoyed sigh while Geto rolled his eyes.

“You won’t even need to lift a finger,” Gojo winked at you, sipping his drink, smirking at how you flushed and stared down at your folded hands on your lap. Oh, how your reactions made Gojo giddy.

“Do not underestimate her, Gojo,” Nanami crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m not,” Gojo pouted, sitting in his bed that looked out the balcony and the beach.

Before Gojo could say anything to aggravate Nanami, Geto sat up, offering you a warm charming smile.

“How about you and I go take a walk on the beach? I heard some kids talking about the shaved ice treats there. We still have time to kill anyway.”

Your lashes fluttered, tempted by the sweet treat mentioned. Like a child easily swayed, you nodded excitedly, the white bow tied in your hair bouncing as you nodded.

And just like that you and Geto were off to take a walk on the beach, Gojo pouting when he watched the two of you from the balcony, the gentle summer breeze blowing through your hair as Geto’s hand rested on the small of your back, while you laughed at something he said.

Nanami always had suspicions that Gojo would’ve taken advantage of you when you had asked him to be your mentor but it seemed that Geto has always kept Gojo in check, never letting him be any closer than he was now.

He’d be able to rest easy after the curse was disposed of.

But for now, he watched you laugh and smile with another man who might just be carving his way into your gentle heart that he wanted a place in.

The dead of night came too quickly and the curse was disposed of so easily. Nanami was already tucked in his bed, sighing at another day of fighting curses, wanting sleep to take him so that he wakes to a new day. He wanted to fall asleep before Gojo and Geto got back from partying in the beach bar, to avoid the drunken banter the two would have. He could hear the party faintly from the beach but it wasn’t that troublesome to affect his sleep.

He should check on you though. You didn’t go with them, wanting to stay in your room and take some time off to yourself since it was rare for all of you to be able to just lay back and enjoy life like normal people.

Nanami sat up. He’ll just knock and see if you’re awake, and then he’ll go back to bed. If anything sounds wrong he’ll come in with the spare key Gojo asked for safety reasons.

Pushing his hair back, he slipped out of bed, eyes already adjusted to the dark and made his way to the door.

“I-I still don’t know how this is supplemental to our tutoring” you murmured, crossing your arms over your naked chest, pulling your knees closer to yourself as he stared.

“Well since I offered to be your mentor, I need to get to know the way your body reacts,” he explained so believably you fell for it. He only wanted what’s best for you right? “Plus, it’s fun for me and Suguru. And from all the previous times, you had fun too. Remember?” He flashed you a smile, crawling closer towards you on the bed, his long lanky frame taking up most of the space.

“Come on, don’t hide yourself,” Gojo pouted, sapphire eyes glowing.

You glanced at Geto who sat on the edge of the bed, a cigarette between his lips and gave you a look of ‘Don’t worry too much.’ Hesitating, you slowly let your arms fall to yours sides, fingers curling to grip the sheets, heart pounding in your chest.

“Ah, I missed your tits,” Gojo sighed happily, mouth watering at the sight of your uncovered mounds, nipples hardening from the cold air.

Without a warning his fingers tweaked at your nipple, a shaky breath left you, trying to remain calm and collected. But he pinched and rolled them in a way that sent warmth to your core.

“Senpai…”. Your lips trembled, his face close to your chest, ogling your tits. “N-not too hars—ah!”

The way senpai fell so sweetly from your lips made Gojo shiver and take one of your breasts into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your hardened peak and sucking roughly. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, a weak attempt to keep him away but his other hand was quick to cup and massage your other breast.

“Plus this is a way for you to give us something in return. A little exchange for helping you become a better sorcerer,” Geto mused, white smoke wafting through the air, the smell of tobacco mixing with the fresh scent of cotton.

“You learnt something of value today when I exorcised that curse today right?” Gojo asked, his face now close to yours, your breasts where his mouth had been now glistening with his saliva. He continued to tweak and massage your breasts with his large hands, squeezing just the right amount.

You nodded, biting your lip, your thighs visibly shaking and your breathing uneven. He burrowed his nose in the crook of your neck, licking along the column and pinching your nipples a little harder. You whimpered.

“I-I did.”

“And what do we say when we teach you something new?” Geto drawled with a lilt in his voice, scanning the curvatures of your body and how it was now arching into Gojo’s touch, who was now nipping and kissing along your neck and collarbones, leaving marks.

“T-thank you,” you squeaked out, heat collecting in your core.

This was the only way you could repay them, they said. The only fair way. You didn’t expect that you’d be losing your virginity a couple months back to Gojo and Geto, your body being the thing you paid your gratitude with.But then again, how was this supposed to be supplemental to becoming stronger?

One of Gojo’s hands left your breasts, it trailed downwards, caressing your stomach before tracing the band of your panties.

“Have you touched yourself without me knowing?” He suddenly asked, the question catching you off guard. You tried to squirm away, only to be stopped by the pillows against the headboard. “It’s okay if you did, as long as you were thinking of me.” He winked seductively, fingers skimming your covered pussy.

You shook your head, a trimmed white brow raising with surprise.

“Oh? So you must be extra sensitive then,” he chuckled, pressing onto your clit, making you squeeze his shoulders. He sighed against your neck, rubbing your pussy through the dampening cloth of your panties while Geto watched from the side, still smoking but enjoying the view nonetheless. He’d get his turn.

“You looked so cute in the dress I picked up for you,” Gojo hummed, feeling the throb of your pussy against his fingers that were slowly starting to get wet with your growing arousal. “I bet Nanami thought so too.”

The mention of Nanami had you looking down almost in defeat, embarrassed even. Did Nanami find you cute? He couldn’t. After he finds out what you’d been letting Geto and Gojo do with you…he might ignore you purely out of disgust. You didn’t want that. Your panic manifested into tears, your eyes watery as you wanted it all to stop.

“D-don’t want to do this,” you murmured softly, turning to your side, covering your chest with your arms again and folding your legs into your chest. “It feels wrong.”

You heard Gojo huff in disappointment. His playtime cut short.

But Geto had it all in control.

“What does?” He laid down behind you, pressing close to you, his hand caressing the side of your arm to soothe you.

“This.” Your voice trembled, embarrassed to say your reasons but the tears in your eyes begged to flow freely and soon enough you blurted out, “I always thought I’d be doing things like this with someone…someone I love.”

Your eyes widened when you realised what you had just said, gauging their expressions with panic.

“Love?”

“Don’t tell me…” Gojo’s smirk widened and you covered your face, closing the gaps of your fingers tightly not wanting to see a glimpse of their expressions. It was embarrassing enough as it is to be naked and vulnerable to them but that…

Cold fingertips caressed your thighs and the next thing you knew, you were flipped onto your back with thighs pressed to your chest. Your panty clad pussy exposed to bright sapphire eyes.

“You’re in love with Nanami?” He teased, pink tongue darting out to lick along your slit, the cloth dampening even further as you squirmed in his grasp.

“S-stop,” you tried to push him away but warm strong hands wrapped around your wrists, restraining you so that his best friend could have his way.

“Would you rather Nanami be the one doing all these things to you hm?” Geto rasped in your ear while Gojo pushed the crotch of your panties aside to kiss your clit, your body jolting at the sensation.

“Ah, s-senpai, please st-ah!” His lips latched onto your sensitive nub, tongue flicking furiously against it, electric shocks shooting through your core while a finger prodded at your clenching entrance. “Not there, please don’t.”

“You sure? You’re getting turned on though ,” Gojo quipped, his statement backed up when he dipped two fingers in your clenching hole. “And so wet.“

The moment his digits were hugged by your walls, he didn’t waste time in curling them, fingers that reached deeper than your own would. The lewd squelching sound of him stuffing your cunt filled the room as well as your breathy gasps, all words caught in your throat and all reason melting away.

“S-stop,” you whined, clenching around his fingers that were rubbing your walls so deliciously.

“What’s wrong?” Geto pouted, faux pity in his tone as he settled himself behind you, placing you on his lap spreading your further for Satoru. He pinned both wrists behind your back with one hand, softly humming when your ass rubbed against his stiffening cock. “You were so eager to please us before. You don’t want to disappoint us do you?”

“Ah—n-no,” you admitted, the obscene slurping sounds of Gojo playing with you with his mouth and tongue, starting to feel good. Too good. “But please don’t tell Nanami…d-don’t tell him. Please.” You begged, Gojo’s tongue pushing past your entrance and tasting your insides, the bridge of his nose grinding against your clit.

“He won’t ever know, Princess,” Geto cooed, grabbing your right breast roughly, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “It’s always been and still will be our little secret.”

The wet appendage bullying its way within your walls, wriggled inside you in an unexplainable way. You couldn’t believe that the Gojo Satoru was between your thighs , licking and slurping away at your cunt as if it was something sweet that he’s craved for so long. It felt dirty for him to be so utterly close to your intimate area and that the same lips and tongue that would kiss you were doing the same down there.

But it felt so good. Every time the bridge of his nose ground against your clit when he slurped and fucked you with his tongue had the heat in your belly grow and spark into flames. Your hips would jut and wriggle, the sensations being too much and not enough at the same time. And it didn’t help that Suguru was kneading and massaging your breast, tweaking your nipples now and then.

“Fuck,” Gojo groaned against your heat. “Missed this sweet pussy.” Then he continued his assault, bringing you closer to the edge.

You whimpered out his name a couple of times, mumbling that it was too much, to slow down but it fell on deaf ears, resulting in the uncontrollable shake of your body as you came.

“You taste so good,” he hummed, holding your hips down and lapping your juices that spilled forth, wetting your pussy even more.

“It’s my turn now, Satoru,” Geto spoke calmly from behind you, running his hands along your sides.

Next thing you knew, Geto’s lips were on yours, sweetly kissing you with such care and passion, no time given to you to gather yourself nor process everything. You’d be lying if the way he handled you didn’t make your heart flutter. His large hands roamed the expanse of your body, caressing beneath your breasts before squeezing them and guiding you on all fours.

The cold air brushed against the exposed slick folds of your pussy, your trembling impossible to control you could only grip the sheets and stare at the way they crumpled, the ache within you burning.

With his thumb, he spread your lips apart, whistling at the sight of your pulsing pink hole before rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds. “Why don’t we try something new this time around, hm?” The mischievous lilt in his voice made you heat up further, clenching around nothing.

“You can take Satoru in your pretty mouth while I fuck you dumb from behind. How does that sound to you sweetheart?” He cooed, his flush tip circling around your clit making you moan. You couldn’t take the teasing. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want this, didn’t want to repeat over and over the secret meetings you three would have. You’ve always looked up to Geto and Gojo, admired them, loved them. But the love you had for Nanami was different. The way he made your heart flutter and warm was different from the searing hot heat that Geto and Gojo provided.

“Geto-senpai …” you had whispered, gripping the sheets, melting bit by bit by his hot cock prodding at your entrance, your walls begging to be stretched, to be filled. “N-need you inside. P-please. I promise to be good.” You panted, the greed within you blinding logic.

“Sweet Angel,”Geto sighed, his grips on your hips tightening as he popped the head of his cock inside of you, a moan of relief leaving your lips. “You’ve always been good for us.”

“Too good,” Gojo added, tilting your head up with his thumb, his usually bright electric blue eyes a dark glowing blue. His thumb swiped your lip while Geto slowly inched his way inside of you, stretching your walls deliciously. You couldn’t fight back the moan that left you as you stared at Gojo’s expressions.

“Best fucking pussy,” Geto groaned from behind, sinking to the hilt, the fullness driving you crazy, your walls and clit tingling from it all.

Gojo swiped your lips once more, this time with the tip of his cock, the slit leaking beads of precum that in your lustful daze, made you lick the pink head to taste him. Gojo swore and threw his head back, letting you swirl your tongue around his tip before you let him slip past your lips.

You moaned around his cock when you felt Geto draw back, only to thrust back in languidly before building up the pace. One that was too fast it had you squeezing him tight, where his cock was brushing against your sweet spot inside you, one that Gojo began to match as he held you by the hair and was fucking into your mouth, then deep in your throat.

“Shit, keep fucking her like that, her throat gets tight when you hit her sweet spot,” Gojo moaned, staring at your pretty bleary eyes, darkened with lust, looking up at him so cutely as you gagged and drilled around his cock. Fuck, you were gonna make him cum so fast if you kept looking at him like that.

“Such a good girl aren’t you?” Geto grunted, driving his hips til it slapped with your ass over and over, his eyes catching glimpses of the creamy ring of white forming at the base of his cock. “You’re so hot baby.” He groaned, fucking your harder you screamed around Gojo’s cock.

They felt so good. It was euphoric. All you could think about was how good they were making you feel, how hot and heavy their cocks were inside you, and how their praises fell so sweetly from their lips.

In the darkness of the small hall by the door, dark eyes watched silently. They watched the way the two men dwarfed your frame, how Geto’s fast thrusts made your breasts bounce til your arousal was leaking down and glistening on your inner thighs, and how Gojo’s balls slammed against your chin as he fucked your pretty face, drool dripping down your chin.

His breath was caught in his throat and he was desperately trying to deny the heat that began to bloom within him at the sight of you getting fucked. Trying to control the hardening of his own cock in his boxers. He was supposed to be filled with fury and thoughts to reprimand his seniors for abusing their power over you but instead he was wondering about how warm your mouth was and how hot and tight your walls would be.

This was wrong, he told himself silently, his eyes on you the entire time. And the sight before him, his two seniors fucking you at the same time was something he didn’t expect to walk in on, he was hoping to see you in your bed, fast asleep. Not on all fours taking two cocks as if you were in heat.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Gojo groaned, hips stilling in one final thrust, his hand tangled in your hair pressing you further down til your nose was pressed on his pelvic bone. You unintentionally clenched your walls as you felt his hot cum spill down your throat, taking all he was giving you. “Good girl.” Gojo praised, grinning as he pulled out, hints of his cum still present on your pink tongue.

Arms trembling, your upper body fell onto the bed, Geto’s grasp on your hips kept your ass up, your body jolting forward from each hard and deep thrust. Your fingers curled against the sheets, moaning at the way his balls slapped against your clit, his name falling in soft chants.

“C-cum…ah—,” you panted against the sheets, broad furrowing as you were getting closer to the edge. “Make me cum, s-so close. Feel so good. I—ah. Please. Please. Please.”

Geto swore at the small pleads, one hand snaking around your waist as he pressed his torso against your back, his hot breath against your ear as his fingers found your clit.

“Fuck, you’re getting so tight around me baby,” Geto moaned in your ear, the silkiness in his voice made you clench around him. “Pretty girl likes to get praised doesn’t she?” He teased, rubbing your sensitive pearl, your moans getting louder and higher, the steady pounding of his cock into your cunt and the pressure on your clit hurling you to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Geto burrowed his face in the crook of your neck, hips increasing in pace. “Take my cum, baby. Fuck.”

“N-no, not inside,” you gasped, the pressure on your clit making your eyes roll back, your protests ceasing almost immediately as your orgasm hits you.

Geto’s hips stuttered as the pressure at the base of his spine released, pulling out and pumping himself till he came all over your back. The hot spurts painted your skin white and he squeezes your ass in appreciation. you were lucky Gojo wasn’t fucking you then, he would’ve cum inside you and Geto wasn’t that cruel, he still cared for you in more ways than one.

Your head was spinning, the tingling sensation that exploded from your core washed over you like waves. The warmth that painted your stomach heated your skin and with heavy lidded eyes you glanced down to see the mess of his cum, panting as you tried to catch your breath.

“My turn!” Gojo chirped like a boy waiting for his turn at a toy. His large hand grabbed your ankle pulling you to the foot of the bed to carry you, back pressed against his chest and his arms hooked beneath your knees, his tip rubbing on your clit making you whine.

“S-senpai , wait,” you breathlessly spoke up, slumped against him, his strong arms supporting your weight. “I just c-ca—ah!”

His cock easily slipped inside you, splitting your walls apart again so quickly after your orgasm, you squeezed him tight. From where Nanami stood, he could see your pussy so clearly in the dim lighting. It glistened with slick and your cute lips were parted to accommodate Gojo’s lengthy cock, the sight made him even harder.

“How does it feel, Princess?” Gojo rasped in your ear, feeling your slick coat his length and drip down his balls.

“G-good. Feels good,” you admitted shamelessly, thighs shaking as he began to thrust up into you. “S’too much, Gojo.”

“Mhm? Make up your mind, baby,” he groaned, eyes closing at the sweet sensation of your soft walls hugging him. “You’re so fucking wet.” He pistons into you, your whines and moans filling the room once more. “I bet Nanami would love to fuck this pretty pussy too.”

A lump formed in the blonds throat, still stood in the shadows of the hall, the room door behind him closed. Why was his name brought up? Did Gojo know he was here? He should’ve known better. He should turn away now before he gets caught and makes you uncomfortable. It was already bad that he had stood there and watched you get fucked by his seniors, and enjoyed hearing your sweet sinful moans.

“You want that don’t you, Princess?” Gojo pressed on, his pace unrelenting, desperate to finish inside you. “Want Nanami to fuck you just as I do and fill your precious womb with cum.”

Nanami’s fingers barely touched the steel knob, pausing on his way out , his curiosity getting the better of him.

You could only whine in response, core clenching tight, the sensation of Gojo’s cock scraping your walls and brushing your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge once more. They made you feel so good, it always felt like a dream.

“You little slut,” Gojo chuckled deeply, feeling your walls clamp around him. “Of course you want that. Why don’t you put on a show for him then, hm? Look.”

Panic surged throughout your body, eyes forcing itself to focus on the surroundings of the room, making out the unmistakable silhouette in the dimmed entryway. Your hands immediately covered your face in embarrassment, body growing hotter and hotter.

He was here. Nanami was seeing you like this.

“N-no,” you whimpered when your back met the bed, exposing your front to Nanami’s dark eyes. How much did he see? How did he get in? What was he thinking? A soft pressure on your throbbing pearl had you crying out. Why did it feel so good even when he was here? Why isn’t he looking away?

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Fuck,” Gojo hissed over and over, bliss seeping through his features and his grip on your hips tightening. “Watch Nanami, see how good she takes it.”

As everything Gojo appeared to be, even his moans, the one he makes especially when he finished, were pretty. He stilled inside you, cock pulsing as he shivered at the rippling pleasure up and down his spine. Warm heat flooded your insides, the sensation of his seed pouring into your womb making you softly moan in bliss, mind disregarding the idea that he actually came inside you. You were against it. You were. But it felt so good. The seeping warmth, the heat of his pearly white skin against yours and his breath fanning your neck as he caught his breath. It was all too good.

“N-na…,” you drawled softly, trying to form the syllables of the blonds name who stood by. Your eyes scanned him over, blinking away the drowsiness that came with the high. His face was flushed pink, lips slightly parted and as your eyes trailed lower, you could see the prominent bulge in his dark navy plaid pyjamas.

Did he want you too?

“Fuck,” Gojo hissed, pulling away, cock slipping out of you and bright blue eyes observing the white the seeped out your abused hole. “Shit, that’s hot.” He grinned proudly, getting a good look. “Suguru, look. This is what you’re missing out on.”

The raven haired stole a glance, admiring the creampie that Satoru just gave you.

“There’s always next time,” Geto reminded him, a smirk working it’s way up his lips as he tilted his head still crying your pink heat. He’ll definitely get his turn. But first…

“You know she can help you with that,” Geto’s voice pierced through Nanami’s trance, who almost drooled at what he just saw.

“W-what?” He cleared his throat, fists clenched on his sides, telling himself to resist.

“That.” Geto tilted his head, gesturing to the blonds hard on.

“I-I’m fi—,”

“Kento…”

‘No. Don’t say my name that way’ , his teeth ground against each other. The call of his name forcing his eyes that had been on the ceiling to you. Gojo laid by your side, caressing your cheek and praising you, while you looked at him. Dainty fingers reached out to him, palm up, beckoning him to come closer.

“W-want you too,” you murmured softly, the shyness in your voice evident to his ears. The chosen words made him blush. This couldn’t be real.

And yet, he took a step forward. Then another…and another.

His body moved on its own before his mind could process what he was doing. He chanted the word ‘Resist’ over and over, even when Gojo placed his hands on his shoulders, making him sit on the edge of the bed, telling him that this was his chance.

Even when you had straddled his lap, your arms draped over his shoulders, your lips brushing his nose, your very being just so treacherously close, was breaking his resolve, tearing it down piece by piece so easily.

Nanami winced when your hand wrapped around his length, aligning it to your heat. There was little to no fight in him left, not when the woman he sought after, admired, fell in love with, was taking initiative in the way he could only dream of.

The way you moaned in his ear when his leaking head popped inside your cunt began in him an addiction he never thought he’d have. He wanted to hear those sounds from you again, he wanted to be the reason for your moans, for your pleasure.

“K-Kento,” you whimpered, sinking lower unto his length. “Ah—you’re inside.” You breathed out shakily, walls tightening around him, a soft grunt leaving Nanami at the sensation.

Slowly, despite your tired body, you rocked your hips up and down his length, the heat and the pressure drawing you into a trance, already lost at the feeling of Nanami filling you up.

“She feels great doesn’t she?” Gojo mused, watching you ride the usually stoic man before you.

Nanami could hear the grin on his senior’s face, no quick retort nor remark could leave him. Not with how your walls enveloped him so tightly. Instead his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you along his cock. He could feel your arousal leaking from you, along his length and down his balls. It was so easy to thrust into you with the mess of your wetness and the previous man’s cum. It was all so dirty.

“A-ah—feel s’good,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his face to your chest, your body trembling with pleasure.

“Awe, look at our little Princess,” Gojo cooed, watching your cute lewd expressions. “She finally gets the man that she wanted.”

“She looks pretty when she’s fucking like that.” Geto chimed in, lighting a cigarette a he enjoyed the show before him.

“Oi, Nanaminnn. Isn’t this your first time?” The white haired man chortled from behind.

The blond ignored them both. Too lost with the heat of your body against his. Too lost with the squeeze of your velvety walls. Your moans, your gasps, the cute whines of his name on your lips. All of it. It was dizzying.

Gently, Nanami switched your positions. Your back pressed against the bed with him between your legs, and his string hands on either side of your head, pinning you below him as he thrusts into you again at his own pace. Fast and deep, giving you all he’s got.

You cried out at the new position, feeling another orgasm quickly building up in your very sensitive core. But the warmth that enveloped you this time was different. It was like the first morning rays of sun against your skin, comforting and sweet. It was because it was Nanami. As your body rocked from the power of his thrusts, you admired him above you. His blond hair was matte and no longer neatly swept back, bangs falling over his dark eyes, and a pink blush dusted his cheeks, and his lips were glossy and parted slightly as he grunted and panted above you.

Nanami wouldn’t be able to last long. Not with how you were looking at him.

“F-fuck,” he groaned under his breath, pressing his torso against yours and guiding your leg with one hand to wrap around his waist. He was close. And by the way your cunt was tightly sucking him in, you were close to.

“C-cum with me,” you breathed out, wrapping your arms around his neck, his cock drilling into you relentlessly, fat cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust and brushing your g-spot. “F-fill me up, please. Want you to cum inside me.” You babbled, your words only spurring him on.

“Fuck, she’s so pretty when she begs like that. It’s getting me hard again.” Gojo groaned from the back.

Nanami reached between the two of you, fingers finding your swollen pearl and massaging it in a circular motion, your walls tightening even more around his length.

“Cum for me,” he rasped against your ear. The gruff, deep timbre of his voice made your whole body shiver and melt even further for him.

His thrusts quickened and his fingers continued to rub your clit, your nerve endings becoming more sensitive with each second. You could feel it. The tightening in your stomach, the build up of pressure in your lower belly. Your moans were leaving you without restraint at this point, feeling too utterly good from his cock, til the knot inside you snapped. You came all over him, your sweet release dripping down his muscular thighs and onto the bed, and in a couple of thrusts, his release soon followed, and you basked are the blissful expression on his face.

“I l-love you,” you murmured, against his neck, as he stilled on top of you, cock pumping out his seed into your womb. The warmth welcomed and even making you giggle. You were happy to be connected with Nanami like this. Your heart felt full.

He softly moaned against your ear, your confession making this messed up union, sweeter than it should have been. He could feel you milking his cock, walls pulsating against his length, taking what you could of his cum while the excess leaked out of your abused hole.

“Feels nice to cum inside her huh?” Gojo quipped from the back, cock hard again and hoping for another turn. “Shit, you made me wanna go agai—

“You’ve had your turn dipshit,” Geto grabbed his friend by the ear, dragging him towards the armchair in the corner of the room.

Nanami slowly parted from you, blushing at the sight of your pussy leaking with his cum. He didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say?

“Are you okay?” He cleared his throat, lying beside you, letting you catch your breath.

You nodded with the sweetest smile on your face.

“You’d be surprised with how much she can take, Nanami,” Geto spoke, the bed dipping in your side as he settled beside you, turning you on your stomach. “The night is far from over. Plus,” he smirked, pushing your puffy lips apart just to get a good view of your cum filled pussy. “I haven’t come inside her yet, and you,” he helped you to your hands and knees, your face perfectly close to Nanami’s cock.

“You haven’t even gotten to try her mouth yet. As you can see….” he lined himself with your cunt, sheathing himself instantly to not let any cum go to waste, only to find your walls greeting him with a gentle squeeze. “She doesn’t disappoint.”

can't make you love me | osamu x f!reader.

Pairing: Osamu Miya x f!reader.

Your path crosses Osamu's again; fifteen years after you dated in high school, you meet again at a party. You end up in your appartment, making up for lost time.

Reader and Osamu are in their 30s. Smoking cigarettes. SMUT: oral sex (f & m receiving), vaginal sex, pull-out technic, unprotected sex, lots of cum. Bit of angst. | WC: 4k.

A/N: Here is my piece for the Oops...I did it again collab, hosted by the lovely @cursedmoonchild. Thanks for suggesting Britney as an inspiration. I have no idea where I went with this but I had fun picturing Osamu for this, and I never wrote for him! Sorry for the english, I didn't beta-read myself.

The party was awful. To be honest, you have no idea why you’re here in the first place. Something to do with a lonely Saturday night, where you were invited to an old high school reunion party or whatever. People around you looked desperately boring - how far did everyone become so lame? You barely recognized them. Everyone jokes around with their significant other, and you feel both relieved not to have to endure the staging of your ‘perfect’ couple and its success, and you’re also sad you’re apparently the only one single and happy about it. 

You smoke your cigarette at a window, contemplating the park across the street where two people are kissing on a bench. You sigh, overwhelmed by the situation. 

“You mind sharing your lighter?”

You instantly recognize the accent. Osamu Miya is next to you, a cheeky smile on his lips. You turn to face him properly; he has aged, like you. The last time you saw him was probably in high school, or you might have caught a glimpse of him during college. Since you two dated, you never got the occasion to meet again. 

“Sure. Long time no see,” you agree, nonchalantly giving him what he asked for.

“Thanks. Is this place taken?”

“It’s yours now.”

He lights his cigarette and gives you back your lighter. “So, why are you here all alone? I remembered you more like a social butterfly.”

“Time changes people. Life has made me bitter and lonely.” You take a puff of your cigarette. “Also, all the ones I knew are already gone mainly ‘cause they have plans tomorrow. Family lunches. Romantic activities. Couple things.” You shrug your shoulders.

He gently laughs. “Same here. ‘Tsumu has left with his fiancé about ten minutes ago, but I thought I’ll make a quick tour to see if I don't miss anyone and here you are.” 

“Lucky strike,” you say sarcastically.

A long silence where only the back noises of people talking, glasses toasting and soft music are heard. The presence of Osamu is somehow comforting in the despair of the evening. Two lonely souls meeting again. 

“You’re very beautiful tonight,” Osamu breaks the party’s humming, puffing his cigarette. This feels warm coming from him. You only dated a few months in high school - it was experimental and clumsy, you didn’t know anything about love nor sex.

“You aged well too. You’re still in shape, I see. Do you have someone to impress?” 

“No one comes to my mind.”

You stump out your cigarette after a final puff. You look up to meet his eyes, realizing he was already watching you. His face is beautiful. Age has made him look even more desirable. Jaw, muscles, hair and everything felt more masculine and defined. His eyes didn’t change though, always half-closed, but with a sparkle of mischief.

“Do you have regrets about our high school relationship?”

He takes a deep breath, weighing his words. “Maybe. We were young, immature, trying to perfectly execute the choreography made for high school couples.” He finishes his cigarette too, putting its butt next to yours in the ashtray. He continues, “I think if we had waited a few years, I would have done things differently.” The gaze he sets on you is intense, like the words he just said were thought long ago.

Your heart skips a bit as you consider his words. You’re happy with your celibacy but you welcome the information with pleasure. Osamu was the only ex-boyfriend you thought your relationship was…unfinished. Something was missing and you couldn’t put words on it. You can’t miss the opportunity to be sure of it. You take the bet. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You offer, dead serious.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

You were quick to stand up, say goodnight to the remaining guests - knowing, the host and a few others that were singing loudly to some Britney Spears song. Your departure was unnoticed. 

Luckily, you lived nearby. That’s perhaps what convinced you to come to the party in the first place, you explain to Osamu. You chat about random things in your lives, what changed, what have you become during all these years. You learn he owns an onigiri shop downtown, which is quite unexpected despite remembering his appetite for food as a growing teenager. You tell him you graduated too, and work an entirely different job than what you planned in high school but not less fulfilling. There is no tension at all, you’re both happy to have the occasion to meet again.

Your footsteps slow down the last few meters before reaching your house, silently anticipating the moment when your ways will part again. But out of boldness, you still ask:

“Wanna finish this conversation at my place? You don’t have to drink if you want to drive yourself home. Plus you might be working tomorrow.”

Truly, you hope he says yes. It’s been a long time since you have had the occasion to discuss with someone that interesting. You had forgotten his witty mind. 

“I’m not. If you don’t mind then I’ll gladly take the invitation.” 

You smile and rummage through your back to find your keys. Finding them, you climb the few steps to the porch of your building before turning back to him.

“I have a cat. I hope you’re not allergic. Also, the elevator is out of service,” you say, turning the keys into the door.

You hear a small laughter from Osamu once you start climbing the many steps to reach your flat. You catch your breath coming to the door of your apartment. This elevator situation was really awful. 

“That’s me. Make yourself at home.”

You open your door, immediately greeted by your cat. “Hello there my sweet baby, please be nice with Osamu, alright?” You say as you scratch the fur of your meowing cat. “He’s not used to guests.” You explain as you step off your shoes, followed by Osamu.

You both reach your living room, filled with bookcases, DVDs and CDs. You put on background music, smooth jazz or anything that can set a great atmosphere to end the evening. You grab a glass from your cupboard and open a red wine bottle that’s been sitting here for ages - since you got your job four years ago, actually. Once you go back to the living room, you see Osamu checking out your book collection. 

“Feel free to borrow one, if you want to,” you say as you sit on your couch. 

You pour wine into your glass, quickly watching its color and appearance like any thirty-something adult should do. But you don’t know a thing about red wine, except it tastes great and that you like it. “Do you want a soda, or something?” You ask after swallowing the first sip. It’s delicious.

Osamu turns to catch your sight, glancing between the bottle on the table and your figure elegantly seated on the couch. 

“Actually, do you mind if I taste this wine? I’m a chef after all.” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. What does that mean? You realize the possible ambusch you’re going straight to. He sees your eyes squint at his request. “It’s fine, I didn’t drink back at the party. Plus, I can hold my liquor.”

“I trust you.”

You quickly go back to your kitchen to grab a second glass. You come back to Osamu, sitting on the sofa, flipping through the pages of a book.

“Ah, No Longer Human,” you recognize immediately, sitting next to him. The pages are bent, signs of your multiple readings. “It’s a classic.”

“I remember we studied it in high school. I never understood why you liked it so much.”

“I like the outrageous cowardice of the protagonist, it makes you remember you can’t trust the narrator, even if you’d like to.” 

He hums. “I personally liked that it was a disguised autobiography,” he says, putting the book on the table. You offer him the glass of wine you poured for him.

“Cheers.” 

Your conversation, as promised, goes on for a long time. He gives you information on your old classmates, what they have become now. Atsumu is a professional volleyball player and engaged with another one. It feels great to be here with him. You take the opportunity to take a closer look at him, now that he’s stripped from his jacket. He still bears this calm yet cunning aura you liked in the first place. You think to yourself you might still have a crush on him, after all these years. But it’s a different kind this time, after the relationships you had, it’s not a high school crush anymore.

“Want a second glass?” He asks, holding the bottom of the bottle like a waiter.

“Gladly,” you nod, offering your empty glass. He fills it, and his glass too.

“I see that you like the wine.”

“I do. And it’s an easy excuse to stay a little longer with you too,” he sips the beverage. Oh. He continues, “don’t worry, I’ll take a cab home. I don’t want to bother you more.”

“You’re not bothering at all. In fact, if you wanna crash here tonight it’s fine.”

“Thanks.”

You try to focus on the conversation, which appears trivial when your head is screaming because Osamu made it clear he wanted to spend more time with you. You felt yourself slightly redden and hoped the wine was enough of an excuse for your blushing. You keep drinking and chatting casually.

Your cat makes an appearance, jumping between the two of you on the couch. You instinctively guide your hand on the animal to stroke it. However, your hand ends up touching Osamu’s, who had the same idea as you. It startled you, especially when none of you made a move to remove your hand right away.

“Sorry,” you hear him say softly to the contact, but he didn’t mean anything. This ‘sorry’ was empty—polite.

You answer right away, “don’t be,” still not moving your hand away. You stay there, holding your breath, skins grazing. 

You hear him gulp. Your cat makes a noise of protest, not receiving the caresses it wanted. The animal finally leaves, taking away with it the excuse for your hands to touch. You’re quick to put back your hand on your thigh, pretending it didn’t tickle from the contact with Osamu’s. 

“So—,” you start, trying to break the silence.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your head short circuits. “Yes”, you answer without thinking.

He brings his head close to yours as his hand softly grabs the back to your head. His lips meet yours with delicacy. You close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his lips moving over yours. The kiss tastes like wine and cigarette, yet memories of high school flood your mind. You’re the timid one in the kiss, letting Osamu rule the pace, the intensity and the duration. He stops too soon, to your taste, letting your agape mouth waiting for something more.

“Can I have one more?” You ask.

“Surely.”

You crash your lips onto his this time, transmitting your urge, and all the other feelings you need him to understand as you grip his hair. His hand travels to your hip, inviting you to move closer to him to grant him better access to your body. His lips leave yours to move towards your neck, kissing the soft skin of your throat. Your desire immediately rises, invading your body. 

“I want to touch you,” you say, between soft pants as he continues his ministrations. He hums in approval, putting one hand under your knee to make you straddle his lap. 

Once you’re there, you withdraw your face to gaze at him.

“I won’t be able to have you back, or make you love me in any kind of way. And that’s not what I want,” you say gently, caressing soft locks of his hair. “But at least, just for tonight, let me make you feel good.”

Your smile is sincere, yet carries a lingering sadness behind it. 

“I’d like that,” he simply answers, grasping your face with both hands to plant a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I want to make love to you.”

It makes your heart beat fast and your cheeks redden. The next kiss is hungry, desperate, filled with want. Like all the frustrations of high school were released and you were taking your revenge, fifteen years later. His hands left your face to firmly grip the curve of your ass and you immediately started to grind on him. A stifled moan leaves your lips as you already feel the outlines of his growing hard-on on your sensitive sex through your clothes. It’s intoxicating.

You don’t know how you end up naked on your couch, clothes scattered hazardously on the living-room floor. Osamu is between your legs, lazily kissing the inside of your thighs. “Fuck—,” you whisper, feeling a thrill through your body at the kisses he puts on your sensitive skin. The view is amazing too, terribly erotic, making your high school self excited too. 

Without a word, only looking up at you, Osamu asks for permission to move on. You nod, lifting your hips to encourage him with a soft whimper. He loses no more time to kiss your aching pussy, and it feels amazing—like your body had been waiting for this moment to happen since forever. He moves his lips onto your sex, collecting the wetness of your desire and adoring its taste. He gets familiar with a body he saw years ago. He licks a stripe on your pussy, finding the places where it feels good. You could have been his first, he thinks, not knowing you thought about that too. You feel his tongue phlegmatically move onto your engorged clit, and guess his mind is elsewhere. But he focuses on you shortly after, as you see him settle more comfortably onto his knees to drink your essence.

He continues to carefully lick your sex, unintentionnaly teasing you. He presses his lips directly onto your clit, happy to feel your hands grip his hair firmly. “More of that—,” he hears you say. He is happy to oblige, obeying to your request instantly. Osamu loves your taste and your sounds. His tongue is flat and fast, wetting your bundle of nerves to play with it more easily. He feels your thigh tremble under his hands, comfortably resting on them. He moves a hand to your core, massaging your pussy lips with two fingers, feeling better your arousal than on his tongue. It makes him hum onto your sex and twich in his pants. He notices you seem close, since he made good use of his hand, and decides to play with your pussy more. He slowly thrusts one digit inside your slit, and all your body freezes, accompanied with a loud moan. He takes that as a signal to move on, so he adds a second finger inside your pulsating pussy, without stopping the movements of his tongue on your cunt. Gently scissoring his fingers at different angles, he finds what makes you lose your head. 

“I’m gonna cum, Osamu—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” you say to him as a warning and request to go on. 

He picks up the pace of his fingers, at that angle that makes you see stars, and that’s all you need to finally snap. You let everything go—welcoming the orgasm to your body with a long and loud moan. Osamu feels your legs shake gently and your pussy closing around his digits, which he does not withdraw. Instead, he stops kissing your pussy to glance at your features twisted in pleasure. Your breath is uneven when you finally meet his lecherous gaze.

He’s licking his lips and fingers clean. It makes you want to devour him. You touch his bare torso, admiring the shape of the muscles, not daring to break the eye-contact while doing so. 

“Let me touch you too,” you offer him.

Osamu is a silent lover. You hear the sound of his buckle being undone, followed by fabric sounds and suddenly he’s next to you on the couch. His mouth finds yours again, as your hand falls onto his cock, experimentally pumping the hot skin. You taste yourself on his tongue, which makes you smile. His breath is ragged, as your soft hand moves along his dick, feeling your thumb spreading his precum on the head. 

It’s your turn to drop onto your knees to settle between his strong thighs. Your mouth wanders on his inner thighs a few seconds before you lick your lips, finally taking an eyeful of his hard sex. Then, you kiss the red tip, taking off the foreskin to grant you better access to his cock before taking him fully inside your wet and hot mouth. He hisses at the feeling of your tongue dancing on his shaft in quick movements. His hand grips the back of your head, caressing your scalp, as you bob your mouth on his cock to make him feel good. You set your own pace—taking the time to breathe through your nose. Your hands wander freely on his groin, fingers helping you complete what your mouth can’t, and the other one softly massages his balls. He feels heavy and hot on your tongue, it makes you dizzy. Probably less dizzy than Osamu though, as he feels all this kind of stimulation by your mischievous hands and tongue. You can hear him groan at the feeling. 

You take his cock out of your mouth, dropping generous amounts of spit onto his sex, and use your hand to jerk him off. You keep gently pressing his balls into a hand while you set a fast pace on his cock, using the spit to help you silken the shaft. You feel him tense, his free hand tightly locked into a fist. You spit again on his cock, renewing the lubricant as you gently squeeze the shaft. He grips your hair a bit tighter, and his hips urge towards you. Osamu groans again louder, and it’s your only warning before he cums, ropes of white sticky cum falling on his belly. You feel him completely dissolve under your fingers, relaxed by your touches. His eyes are half-closed, simply gazing at you with an empty mind. His hand on your hair moves to grasp the side of your face, standing you up to kiss you. 

The kiss says ‘thank you’. 

He grasps one of your asscheeks, kneading the skin under his strong fingers, then settles the same hand on your hip. He sits you down on his lap again after breaking the kiss. 

“I want more of you,” he tells you when his hand finds its way at the apex of your thighs, wandering again on your wet slit. 

You’re amazed at Osamu’s confidence. Every move he makes feels calculated, like he had already made a mental map of your body, and guessed all the tricks to make you crazy.

He lazily kisses the space between your breasts, deciding to give attention to your neglected tits with his mouth. His hand is still playing with your lower parts, spreading the wetness conveying your lust. “Oh,” you sigh with pleasure at his gentle attention to your body. “I want you too.”

“I dreamt about this when we were together in high school. But I’m glad we took the time,” Osamu softly laughs. Fifteen years to wait, finally reuniting two experienced adults instead of clueless adolescents. 

“It’s still going to be our first time together,” you answer, lowering your hips so your pussy folds meets his growing cock. You plant an impish kiss on his cheek, followed by a deep sight at the friction between your sexes.

“It is, indeed. Better late than never, right?” He caresses your hip, encouraging the grinding movement of it.

You think you’re going to explode if he doesn’t fuck you now. 

“Can I?” You ask, grabbing his cock, wetting the dip between your drenched folds. Osamu pinches his lips, quickly whispering a “yes”.

You align his hard sex to your awaiting slit. And you take him. Inch by inch, feeling the delicious stretch of him inside your walls. You both seem to hold your breaths doing so, until you’re fully seated on his lap, bottoming out completely. 

“Fuuuck.” 

You don’t remember who swore, but it’s quickly forgotten once you move up your hips. It feels like you were made to fit together. You both glance at the places where you’re connected, entranced by the sight of the small ring of your cum adorning his shaft. It’s comprehensible, as his cock reaches amazing places inside your pussy, and you feel yourself growing wetter every second. 

You bounce slowly on his shaft, setting a cool rhythm for you to keep up. He feels so good inside you, it’s embarrassing. 

“Yeah, you feel amazing too,” he echoes your thoughts. Did you voice them out? Probably. You don’t care anymore. It's Osamu, no one else but him.

You pick up the pace; the delicious stretch of him inside you making you moan. His grasp on your rear tightens and he guides your movements, up and down, with small grunts. Your hands settle on his shoulders, while your eyes keep a deep focus into his. You don’t want to forget this ; surely, the physical pleasure will fade sooner or later, but you can cherish the visual memory of it. It takes longer to forget that.

“What?” He asks with a raspy voice, because he sees you gazing at him intensely.

“Nothing,” you whisper.

“There, let me help you.”

With that, strong hands grasp your ass tighter, and he quickly uses his strength to move you with ease on his cock. He sets a faster pace, much to both of your delight, that makes your head dizzy. Your nails clench on his shoulders as the pleasure overwhelms every fiber of your body.

“Touch yourself,” Osamu softly orders.

A hand automatically travels down to your belly, reaching the apex of your thighs and your drenched clit. Your fingers draw tight circles around the erogenous bud. It makes you gasp as you feel your legs tremble and your pussy clench at the sudden stimulation. It becomes hard to breathe, as your orgasm is almost there, as well as Osamu’s. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” you inform him, even though he already guessed, thanks to the throb of the walls of your pussy around his shaft. 

He continues to fuck you, harder. It feels more passionate. “Want you to cum on my cock,” he breathes, catching your sight again. 

It makes you moan loudly. You fasten your motion on your clit, the pit of your stomach furiously tightening as your climax approaches. 

“Yes, ah! F-fuck! I’m cumming!” You snap. 

Your orgasm reaches you so shortly after, under the lascivious gaze of Osamu. It takes all his willpower to pull out his throbbing cock out of your pussy, not to cum inside you without your permission. Your spasming pussy, your delicious moan, your fucked out expression, the lingering memory of your past—everything about you invites him to climax too. You are still trembling on his lap when he furiously wraps his hand around his cock, chasing his sweet release as well with fast movements. Your eyes are half closed, and your mind is still blank. 

But you can hear his last sighs, followed by a deep groan as he finally cums on your belly. “Fuuuck!” Is all he manages to articulate.

You’re both completely drained. You let yourself fall on Osamu’s chest, while he puts you in a tight embrace, entangling your sweaty bodies. His hand softly caresses your back, as you both catch your breaths again.

“Thanks,” you say, against his skin, as soft as a prayer. 

You close your eyes wondering if you could ever have a chance to make him love you. You think it’s ridiculous to have a crush so late, on a man you used to date. But for now, you close your arms around his strong form, like he could disappear again if you’re not cautious. 

AAAAAAAAAA I need a part 2 pls pls pls

gojou x f!reader

summary - gojou does manage to escape from his current manga situation(not mentioned in detail) but takes severe injury to his spine and holes up in one of his empty mansions. you pull him out of his depression nest, literally and metaphorically.

warnings - SMUT(minors dni) margarita mix, daddy kink, reader's in her twenties, gojou's in his early thirties, so if that kind of age gap bugs you there's that, lots of chronic pain talk, lots of healing, honestly, very soft for me. mention of an old fashioned arranged marriage. manga spoilers.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, shifting your weight on the stoop in front of his house. No ones seen him for weeks, and judging by the mail you found piling up in the little green mailbox at the end of the driveway he hasn’t been going out much. You knock, and hear how easily the sound is swallowed in the monster of a house, the mansion at the top of the hill was hulking and dark in the otherwise bright landscape. No answer. 

“Hello!” You call, “Hello um, they sent me to um, to help you!” No answer. You wait a few more minutes, but an early fall breeze rears its head in late summer, and you try the knob as you shiver. To your surprise, the door creaks open. You step inside, the house is filthy. Cobwebs on the corners of the high ceilings, dust has gathered on every wooden surface, and the gloom extends the further you move through the hallway. It must have been beautiful once, ornate, even, but something about it doesn’t feel like a home, there’s something empty here that even the large heavy furniture doesn’t fill. “Hello,”  you call again, “Hello, ah, Gojou-sama!” You hear slight movement upstairs and resolve to follow it. You keep your guard up, checking over your shoulder as you move up the huge entrance staircase, and then down the first hallway on the right towards the sound you heard. You come to a pair of double doors with intricate carvings, and realize this must be the master bedroom. “Gojou-sama?” You hear a soft groan, and push the door open. 

You’d heard stories about Gojou Satoru. That he was tall, bordering on gigantic, that he was all powerful, handsome, that he’d dated models and celebrities and gotten bored of them, that he was quick witted, and cutting, and impossible to defeat. This was not the man laying before you. Empty takeout packages and bottles of sweet margarita mix litter the ground. The huge bedroom is absolutely disgusting, dirty clothes are piled around a huge four poster bed, which is just a continuation of the visible descent into entropy. You notice, as you step into the space, that it smells, and most of the bottles of margarita mix are only partially empty, you move around a sticky spot on the floor, and speak again. 

“Gojo-sama.” You say softly, gently, like you would if you were speaking to a wounded animal, something that if you spooked it would return to the darkness it had been cowering in. He’s laying in the middle of the bed, mostly covered in blankets. The parts of  him that are visible are pale, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his skin. He groans, but doesn’t lift his head. 

“Did they tell you to break into my house?” His voice is lifeless.

“They didn’t-” 

“Get out.” He says sharply.

“I can’t.” You blurt, and he groans again, like your voice is hurting his head. “I can’t, they, they already paid me half.” He pulls a pillow over his head, and the movement looks painful and strenuous. “It’s been weeks, they said.” He doesn’t move. “I’m going to open the window.” You warn him, and he shrugs, tugging the blankets up over his body. You make your way through the mess, grateful  you didn’t discard your shoes at the door, and throw the curtains open. He doesn’t react to the paynes of sunlight that hit his body, or when you struggle to push the glass up to get some air in the room. After a few minutes, you hear him sigh. 

“You’re weak.” He’s still not looking at you. 

“I am.” You don’t argue with him. 

“You traveled here on your own?” He asks, and you shake your head. 

“Fushiguro Megumi accompanied me part of the way.” Even with just that airflow from the window the room takes on a different feel, and you imagine how the whole house would be if you aired it out. “He’s alright.” 

“I know he’s alright.” Gojou says through the pillow. “Who sent you?” 

“Utahime.” You turn back to him, he’s taken the pillow from his head but replaced it with one of the t shirts on the bed. He rolls onto his back. He’s mostly naked, you realize, warmth creeping up your cheeks. He’s muscled, white hair on his chest, his arms are thick and he has the largest hands you’ve ever seen. 

“And why, did she send you?” He asks, sounding entirely bored. 

“I’m one of the five people alive right now with cursed healing technique.” That gets his attention, he takes the shirt off his face and you can’t help but gasp. His eyes are huge and blue, there’s something odd and haunting about them, and you stumble backwards, nearly falling on a half full margarita mix bottle. You catch yourself on the windowsill. 

“They bought one of you, for me?” You wince internally at his phrasing, even though he’s right. 

“Yes, sir.” Gojou rifles through his mind for a fun and witty response to yes sir, but finds he doesn’t have the energy to mock you. 

“Huh.” He rubs his eyes. “You can leave. Tell them I’m broken. Done.” 

“People um, people can’t be broken.” You protest, “Unless they’re dead.” He presses his lips together. “They paid me, so um, so even if you don’t want to be helped, I have to try.” His eyes flick up and down your body, in another life, he could have pursued you, he decides. You were pretty, in a sad kind of way. Not as bubbly or sweet or empty headed as he usually liked women, there was something in your eyes and in your face that was knowing. He sighs, still laying down, and replaces the t-shirt over his face. “I’ll need to touch you.” He flops a dead fish arm across the clothes and empty ramen containers on his bed, hoping you won’t notice how he grits his teeth to bite back a groan of pain. You inhale, and reach within yourself, finding the energy that your mother had taught you to tap into as a young child. The power that would mark you as a powerful object, rather than a person. It glows a light purple in your palms, somehow gaseous and liquid. It flows from your hands onto his body when you touch his palm. He lets out a long breath. 

“Feels, strange.” 

“I was told most of your damage was to your lower spine,” you murmur. “You should have gone to the hospital.” 

“I didn’t want to go to the hospital.” He says, voice a little muffled through the t-shirt. 

“And no one can make you do things you don’t want.” You say lightly, but he hears the accusation in your voice, and lets it pass. You stand like that, in silence, healing him, for a few hours. He gets used to the sensation, lulled by the peace of the birds singing outside, of the soft wind through the trees on his empty family estate. He’s snoring softly when there’s a crash of thunder, and then the heavy pounding of rain on the roof. The energy snaps back to your body like a rubber band when you withdraw your hands from his own, and he feels the pain come crawling back, slowly at first and then like a rushing river, flooding from his spine down his legs, and up through his shoulders. He lets out a soft, involuntary breath and you immediately begin to apologize. 

“I’m so sorry sir,” you say quickly, “I can keep going?” He rolls on his side. 

“Can you?” He asks, without removing the t-shirt that’s over his face. “You look exhausted.” You bristle at that. 

“I can do another hour, and then I’ll have to stop and rest.” You reach for the energy and pull it back out of yourself, this time he can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes his lips as it spreads through his body, a healing numbing energy. It’s more than that, he realizes after another few minutes in silence, it’s more than just the absence of pain, it feels, good. He inches just the slightest bit towards you. You’ve taken his wrist awkwardly, not wanting to hold his hand in a way that implied greater intimacy than you had. He scoots across the bed, unable to hide his wince, wondering if more contact with you will mean he’ll feel better. You withdraw though, and he decides it’s not worth it to push you, not worth the energy to move again. True to your word, you heal for another hour before pulling your hands away and wiping your forehead. This time, he’s expecting the pain to come back, but it’s dulled, even the slightest bit. He rolls over, awkwardly scooting under the pillow. “Are you going to eat?” 

“No.” He mumbles, and you sigh deeply. 

“I’ll get you something.” 

“Just leave.” 

“The healing won’t,” you choose your words carefully, and he has a quick realization that Japanese might not be your first language. “It won’t take, you need to replace the energy you burned repairing the nerves.” 

“Fine.” He hides again, burrowing deep under the nest he’s created and drifts off to sleep as the pain builds again, so insidious in its stealth. You walk away, looking around nervously at the state of his room, his house. You’d brought dinner for yourself, thinking you’d stay at an inn in town but you could get yourself something there. You take the napkin you’d wrapped your bento in and go to the huge master bathroom, shoes squeaking on the marble. It’s as dirty as the rest of the house, but through the windows you can see a lush, unkempt garden outside. You run some water over the cloth and then clean off a window sill, taking the onigiri you’d purchased outside the train station out of the box and unwrapping it. 

“Gojou-sama,” you say, and he doesn’t budge. You chew your lower lip, before moving over to the side of the bed where he was facing, and gently, delicately taking a seat on the side of the mattress. You break off a piece of the sticky rice, and reach out to him, remembering that his heritage, his cursed technique should mean he can perceive your closeness, and know what you’re doing even if he’s not looking at you. He doesn’t move, and after a minute you touch the corner of the pillow, tugging it back slowly. You’re surprised he lets you move it, but you just uncover his mouth. “I, I can feed you,” you say softly, “I won’t tell anyone.” He doesn’t respond, but when you bring the rice to his lips he opens them. You feel the warmth of his mouth brush your fingers and your face warms. You pull your hand away as he swallows, and he moves like lightning, catching your wrist firmly, you nearly drop the onigiri on the floor. 

“Even,” he breathes, “Even just the slightest touch, makes the pain less.”

“I,” you gasp, “I’m not sure-” 

“I,” he removes the pillow with his free hand, pulling you further onto the bed, a ramen 

package crackles underneath you. “I need you, closer.” His tone is almost petulant, childlike. He takes both of your wrists in one hand, grabbing the onigiri and throwing it across his bedroom and pinning both of your hands flat to his bare chest, sighing with relief.

“I, I, I,” you stammer, and he ignores you, eyes driftig shut, pulling the pillow back over his face. “G-gojou-sama, the effect is latent, it’ll fade.” He doesn’t respond, tightening his grip on your wrists. You glance over your shoulder, the onigiri hit the floor and completely came apart, tuna and rice are all over the ground, stuck to the wall. There’s another crash of thunder, and when  you don’t jump, he notes it. 

“You,” he breathes, “You were worth whatever they paid for you.” You swallow. True to 

your word, the relief fades, albeit slowly. The rain continues to fall outside, and you watch it, feeling his chest rise and fall under your hands. You sigh, any movement on your part is futile, he’s so strong his grip is like iron, but you watch his discomfort let itself back in. He squirms a bit at first, the muscles in his forearms tense. 

“You have to eat,” you break the silence. The sun must be going down behind the clouds and the rain has calmed to a gentle patter. “Or it’ll dull completely.” He sits up then, groaning with pain and throwing the pillow across the room. He releases your wrists and the circulation returns to your hands. “I-I have more food.” You blurt and he nods, letting you scramble across the room, nearly tripping on the garbage, you pick up the onigiri and bring it to him. 

“Lifting my arms hurts.” He says, eyeing the way you go to hand it to him. You nod. 

“That’s alright.” You bring the rice ball to his lips and he bites it, stewing in the humiliation of having had to use cursed energy to do the bare minimum to keep himself alive for the last month. 

“How long?” He asks. “Until I’m fixed?” You shrug. 

“You’ll tell me when you’re feeling good. And then I’ll leave.” He doesn’t ask where you’ll go, assumes you travel the word in search of the next well paying invalid. He wonders for a second who your handlers are. 

“You’ll sleep here.” He says, and it’s an order, not a question. “I can’t.”

“You’ll sleep here.” He says, sounding bored, like you’d just not heard him. Your jaw sets, this was the opposite of the directive you’d been given but he was the client, not Utahime. 

“Is there another bed?” You ask and he frowns. 

“There are ten more beds.” You swallow, and feed him more of the onigiri. You finish and go back to healing, working until the moon is high in the sky. Close to midnight you lean back from him, sighing with exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” and he catches the pluck of genuine emotion in your voice. “I need to sleep.” 

“Get out, then.” He says, waving you away. You stumble through the darkness, kicking a few of the bottles on the floor and grabbing your basket of food, glad you saved yourself a bit of it, before pushing your way through the master bedroom doors. They close behind you and you make your way down the hallway, flicking your phone flashlight on, finding the next bedroom and sitting on the bed, sighing heavily. You rub your eyes, taking a moment before you wash your face and peel back the blankets on the bed in this room. It’s large, though not the size of the master. The shadows are long and monstrous, even the music of the rain doesn’t calm your heartbeat. You're certain you’re likely the safest you’ve ever been, one wall away from Gojou Satoru but you can’t seem to calm your illogical anxiety.You’re up half the night, until you’re awoken by your alarm. You slip out of the house early, walking back to the town, sliding in the mud on the dirt road. You purchase food, and some cleaning supplies, stopping to pick flowers alongside the road like you always do for your patients. You shower at your hotel room, before walking back to the mansion. You set the supplies on the ground outside the room just in time for the doors to fly open and you to feel yourself violently yanked across the room. You land hard on the bed, but you don’t have time to catch your breath, Gojou roughly grabs your hands and pins them to his chest again. 

“Where the hell were you?” He complains, an edge to his tone. 

“I, I, brought food-” You stammer.

“I asked,” He opens his eyes, and they’re the brightest abyss you’ve ever stared into. “I asked where you were, not what you brought.” 

“I, I went back to the hotel, and changed.” The words spill from your lips and he scowls. 

“No more hotel.” He grumbles, the petulance is back. “You sleep here.” You go to ask him if here is the bed you’re perched on, or if here is the mansion, but he punctuates his point by covering his face with the pillow again. Today the air is cool and wet, pockets of fog gently drift across the lawn. You don’t watch them, eyes screwed shut, focusing on delivering as much energy as possible into his body. 

“Gojou-sama?” You say and he doesn’t move. “It might help if I touched your back.” There’s a pause, and you wonder if he’s even going to entertain the request. 

“You have to roll me over.” He orders, and you’re not sure if he can’t, if he doesn’t want to use his technique to do it, if the movement really is that painful, but you don’t question it, digging your hands under his hip and struggling to roll him. In the end, he must help you a little but you get him on his back, the elastic bunch of his boxers peeking out from under the blankets. You start burning your energy, and touch him so lightly he nearly doesn’t feel it. “Oh my god.” He chokes out, and if you close your eyes you can feel it, the swelling and unhealed trauma under your fingertips, the misalignment of his spine. “No more hotel.” He mumbles, and you don’t respond. “I want you here, all the time.” 

“Yes, sir.” You feel him tense slightly at the honorific, but he doesn’t correct you. You focus on healing, and eventually he falls asleep. He snores softly, and doesn’t wake up when you remove your hands, resolving to take a break for only a few minutes. You can’t keep burning energy like this, you’d have to tell him. You get your cleaning supplies and start by picking up the garbage, taking bottles of margarita mix, empty ramen and pastry packets, making note of how he’d sucked the pink frosting out of some of the cakes rather than fully consume them. You take the hour break  you need and clean, filling two garbage bags full of empty takeout containers, wrappers and bottles. The room looks better, you decide, but not good. You set the bags down in the corner, and climb back on the bed, careful not to disturb him. Without your touch his breathing is more labored, he doesn’t seem genuinely relaxed, even in slumber. You light your hands up and lay them on him gently again. He groans, waking up as the pain eases. 

“Why did you stop?” He says, an accusation. 

“I can’t do it for too long.” You answer, “I have limits.” He sighs. 

“I hate that about people.” There's silence. “You’re not from here.” He says, and it’s not a question, you barely make out his words from underneath the fluffy white pillow he’s hiding under. 

“Yes, sir.” You say, and he briefly considers prying, feels the spark of nosiness that had once burned intrinsic to his personality. He liked to know people a little, just enough to tease them, to ruffle their feathers. No more than that.

“Have you seen the world?” He asks, unable to stop himself from making idle conversation, vacillating between enjoying the comfortable silence and being haunted by it. 

“A bit.” You offer, a little dent forming between your brows as you concentrate. “Not as much as I’d like to.” 

“Well, you have time.” He muses absentmindedly, the words falling so fast from his mouth he barely has time to taste them. You don’t respond for a minute, and he nearly falls asleep again when you bring him back to the surface and speak. 

“I hope you’re right.” You spend the rest of the afternoon perched like that, kneeling on his bed. The work you’re able to do is significant, if you close your eyes you can feel the nerves mending themselves, finding their ways back where they belong. He doesn’t interrupt you, and the cool wet air, flowing through the open window changes the texture of his silver hair, guiding it into natural waves. When you finally withdraw your hands from him, an involuntary sigh is wrenched from your lips, you’re exhausted. He lifts his head, the pain crawls back even slower than before. He lifts an arm experimentally and feels the familiar twinge but at a smaller scale. “It must have been a terrible battle.” You whisper, and even from under the pillow you feel his eyes on you. “To have injured a man like you, like this.” Gojou considers. 

“The problem wasn’t the battle.” He mutters, pushing deeper under the pillow. “People got in my way.” 

“People with limits.” You say, just as a gentle rain begins to fall outside, dappling the windowsills with water. You see the pillow over his face move and imagine him nodding. “I, I have an idea.” You offer. “If you’d be amenable to it, I think it might ah, it might be comforting.” You see the muscles in his shoulders tense, like he was going to shrug and thinks better of it. 

“Whatever you want.” He half breathes half sings, and you muster up the last of your energy, climbing towards him on the bed. You’re in comfortable but summery clothes, a free flowing skirt and soft shirt. He does nothing to help you, to accommodate your journey to moving yourself up to the small space between his pillow and the headboard. 

“I’ll start small and you tell me if you can handle more.” You whisper, slowly reaching under the pillow, he can stop you if he wants, you know he can, know that this man, with the ability to walk or not has the power to kill you a thousand times over. You’re still incredibly slow, incredibly careful, painstakingly covering his ears and resting your thumbs on his temples. You close your eyes, and imagine the energy behind the smallest faucet, controlling the flow carefully. 

“How does it feel?” You ask, and internally, Gojou reels. Your hands, cool fingertips on his burning skin, and then, there’s the energy, the way he can feel it moving down from your hands through his spine, through his entire body.  He goes to speak, and finds he can’t, finds that when he does, some dam deep within himself has broken. 

“It feels,” he manages, withholding the odd swelling of emotion that since the fight he’d so far resisted, “Fine.” 

“Good.” You chirp, as if you’re not holding his entire psyche in your hands. “Do you um, do you think you could roll on your back? I’ll put your head in my lap, I could do this for a few hours.” He doesn’t respond, but scoots a little on the bed, getting most of the way himself, you only have to reach out and push him the last few inches onto the pale blue sheets. You’re surprised when he removes the pillow, groaning lightly at the movement, and settles his head squarely in your lap. You look down at him, his face flushed, eyes closed, and settle your hands on either side of his head. This time you get to watch his expression, watch his jaw slack, his eyelids flutter, you rub soft circles in his temples. He doesn’t speak, but the relief is so evident you feel a warmth in your chest. 

“You cleaned.” He says, without moving, about an hour later as the moon starts to peek over the mountains in the distance. 

“I did.” You shiver, the night air was no longer pleasantly cool. 

“Is that part of your job?” He asks, and you consider for a moment. 

“It’s healing, you need ah, you need a nice space to heal in.” You take another deep breath. “And I’m out of juice.” He frowns. “It is helping right, you do feel better?” He decides not to answer you. 

“What can be done to extend it?” He says, trying to reach for some of the carefree charm he’d onced used to pretend he’d lost the number of the woman yelling at him for not calling him back. Instead it comes out petulant, childlike. You consider. 

“Ah, I could,” you sigh, “If it’s necessary I have my own source of it. But I prefer not to tap into my own grief and dissatisfaction.” He tucks away the word dissatisfaction, noting it would be more expected for you to say anger. He considers asking you, telling you, sure that if he ordered you you wouldn’t refuse. 

“I understand.” You start to move out of the bed, and when you start to walk, you stumble, dizziness overtaking you, you fall to  your hands and knees as the room spins. 

“Sorry,” you gasp, unprompted. “I, I was spent before we started doing that, I think.” He doesn’t respond to your words, but his hands twitch, as he fights the instinct to help you to your feet. 

“How long, do you think before I can walk on my own?” He asks, and you take a deep breath, struggling to your feet. 

“Maybe a week?” You dig in your bag, producing a waterbottle and taking a long sip. “I, I’ll have to pull back a little, I’ve been pushing it hard.” 

“Could you do less, for longer?” He asks, and you consider, then nod. 

“I could try.” You take another long sip, leaning against a wall. He can’t fight the curiosity you’ve begun to re ignite in him.

“You traveled on your own,” he asks, still staring up at the ceiling, eyes closed. “Do you have parents, a handler?” 

“My healing energy is genetic but I, my parents aren't my handlers, since my mother also has the cursed ability, her husband takes care of her, and someday my partner will take care of me, to an extent.” He hums before responding. 

“So you’re what-” 

“25.” You cut him off. “And I’m actually getting married soon.” He balks at that. “It’s the reason why I was in this country in the first place. To meet him.” Gojou screws his eyes shut, grabbing the pillow and placing it over his eyes again. 

“Old fashioned.” 

“I’m kind of excited,” You sigh, and the sound is so soft, and feminine, and musical. “I’ve always wanted to fall in love.” 

“Huh.” He pauses, before taking a gamble. “What do you know about love?” He lifts the pillow just enough to look at you with one eye. You think about it. 

“I think it would be nice to be cared for, and to care for others, I mean, I’m always caring for others but ah,” you shrug, “I think maybe if he brought me flowers I’d like that. I like flowers.” He lets the pillow fall back on his face, having observed the hope in your eyes and deciding he doesn’t feel like crushing it. “But were you asking about love, or about something else?” 

“I’m in no shape for anything else.” Gojou gumbles, “Can’t even take care of myself. Not that I’m used to that either.” 

“Yes,” you take another sip of water, another shiver running up your spine. “Your 

reputation precedes you.” That pricks his ears up, his imagination running wild about what you could have heard. You don’t grant him anything though, no reprieve, you push off the wall and start walking towards the door. 

“Wait,” he blurts, hating the part of him that both wants to be alone and is somehow yet desperate for company. “Wait, I,” you pause, one hand on the door handle. “Would you sleep here?” Your brow furrows. “I’ll be good, on, on my best behavior.” He feels you consider, watches your teeth scrape your lower lip, your hands do a little dance in front of you. He wonders if there’s any chance you’ll say yes when you speak again. 

“Would you keep it a secret?” You ask. He reels for a full moment. 

“I would.” He says finally. “I could do that, for you.” You look down at your hands again. 

“I’m going to wash up first, and um, I’ll be back. I’ll bring your things this time, there’s no need to drag yourself to the bathroom, alright?” You’re back to business so quickly he gets whiplash. “Just emotionally prepare yourself for me to sit you up.” You disappear, his heart is pounding, he’d promised to be on his best behavior, he’d promised, promised. He can’t stop thinking though, about the way you would sigh, the little sounds you’d make when you were tired, the soft music he was sure that given his body back he could pull from your lips. His fingers twitch at the thought of touching you, and he finds that the general pain of movement is lessened, he lifts an arm, feeling the familiar twinge, moving up his arm, down his shoulder into his spine. 

“Fuck.” He breathes, just as you step back inside the room, carrying a few glasses of water and other bottles on a tray. You’ve changed, he realizes, into a long white nightgown with little bow straps on the shoulders. You prop up some pillows behind him, and he notices that you take the dirty clothes off his bed, piling them on the ground. His eyes are closed, still, and you help him sit up, a soft groan falling from his lips as you wrap an arm underneath his shoulders, and then settle him against the pillow wall. He sighs with relief as he relaxes. “That’s getting easier.” You perk up. 

“That’s great!” You chirp. He watches you take a new, clean toothbrush and put some paste on it, before dipping it in a small bowl of water on the tray. He frowns. 

“I think I might prefer the pain of doing it myself to having you do it.” He says delicately. “I still have my dignity as a man-” You cut him off with a bright giggle. “That was not a joke!” He protests and you sober a little. 

“Sorry I, it’s just, ah, you know,” you gesture to the room. “You live in a depression nest and tried to tell me to leave when I told you I was here to heal you.” You shrug. “I’m not currently thinking of you as a person who places a high value on their own dignity.” He turns his nose in the air and then freezes, waiting for the sharp pain that usually accompanies moving his neck. It doesn’t come. He turns to look at you, beaming. 

“I, I can move my neck now!” The words spill from his lips, his face lit up with a childlike glee. He lifts his hands up and then winces. “Ah, not, ah, not all the way done, I suppose.” 

“I assumed as much.” You stand in front of him, and he relents. 

“Fine.” He gestures to his face and closes his eyes. “But I better feel like I’m at an expensive Tokyo Spa.” You giggle again and carefully, painstakingly brush his teeth. You bring a glass of water to his lips and have him spit in a tiny little bowl. “Not spa-like.” He says, and you roll your eyes. 

“Lucky for you I wasn’t annoyed with you when I put this tray together.” You take a warm washcloth, that has a gentle unscented soap on it, and pat his face clean. He sighs with happiness. 

“Your husbands a lucky man.” He mumbles, as you finish his complex skincare routine, you’d found the bottles in his bathroom and pieced it together. You don’t answer. “Is he a sorcerer?” He asks, pressing a little, hearing the floors creak as you shift your weight nervously. 

“I think so, I don’t actually know his name.” 

“He better appreciate you.” Gojou says, guilt creeping in now with the knowledge of the people he hadn’t appreciated until it was too late. “Even if you nag a bit.” You let out a little huff. 

“You’re not even doing the bare minimum to care for yourself!” You protest. 

“I don’t deserve it!” He counters. If at that moment, he had the ability to clap his hands over his mouth, he would have. If his cursed ability allowed him to travel through time, he would have done so to take those words back. But they spill from him, like water, like he’d been thinking them for a long time, like he’d been tasting them at the back of his mouth for years, repetitive bitterness. Your mouth drops open and your hand freezes on his face. He watches your eyes widen with concern, with that terrible maddening pity. He thinks about countering, about playing it off, but he’s scared that if he opens his mouth again, more will come out. After a long silence, you speak. 

“Do you really believe that?” 

“You wouldn't understand.” He says softly. You nod. 

“You’re probably right.” You finish gently applying what looks like an incredibly expensive eye cream and set it back on the tray. “But I think you, I just disagree. Firmly. About what you deserve.” Neither of you speaks again until you take the tray back downstairs, after laying him back down.. The second you step back into his room he’s talking. 

“I didn’t mean to say that,” He blurts, “I was just-” 

“It’s alright.” You flash your palms. “People talk to me. I see people at their most vulnerable points often.” He considers for a moment, if that’s why the cursed energy you have access to is so strong. You’ve been training to reverse it since you were a child, he assumes, and he’s familiar with the single minded hard training that that requires. But genetically, it would make sense for the healing to get stronger with every generation, if you spend your lives with people who were suffering. His line of thinking is interrupted when  you lift the sheets on his bed and climb in scooting next to him without touching. “Do you want me closer?” You whisper, and fuck, yes he did, of fucking course he does. 

“If it’s alright.” He says. You nod and scoot over under the blankets. He feels you shiver, and wills himself to wrap an arm around you, ignoring the little twinge of pain at the movement. You rest  your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He watches you drift away, envying every unlabored breath, every soft flutter of your eyelids. You sleep so deeply he finds himself mimicking the rise and fall of your chest, hoping he’ll be granted the same peace. There’s something about you, having you this way, soft and curled against him, that ignites a long dead protective urge. Weak things die, he’d seen it himself, flowers get stepped on. But something about the idea of you losing that little spark of hope you’d shown earlier seems deeply unfair. 

Maybe that’s the reason that when he wakes up and you’re gone, he panics. His heart breaks into a sprint, and despite the stiffness, the pain, he sits straight up in bed. At that moment, the door opens, and you come in carrying a tray of food. You nearly drop it when you see him sitting up. 

“Gojou-sama!” Your voice is full of concern. You’ve gotten dressed, he notes, which is truly disappointing. You flit to his side like a little bird, placing the tray at his bedside. This time, he watches you reach for the energy, two eyes open on the complexity at the underside of your healing technique. He’s seen curses do it, watched Sukuna mend Yuuji’s body, watched curses mend themselves, but energy and effort it takes you to summon the light purple glow that you can barely hold on your hands is something he hadn’t had the opportunity to, or interest in appreciating. You lay one hand on his shoulder, supporting his back with pillows quickly. The pain in his body eases with even the slightest touch. 

“That looks hard.” He says. 

“Why did you move!” You protest, ignoring his assessment of your technique, “Why-” He waves your questions away by shaking his head, a newly regained form of expression. 

“What, how did you learn to reverse it?” You think about it, a little indignant at being cut off, but you rest your other hand on his shoulder. 

“Ah, it’s quite difficult. Out of all my siblings I was the only one who learned. It’s me, my mother, her sister, my grandmother, and her sister.  They’re both too old to travel now so people come to them.” He nods. 

“How did you learn though?” He presses. “I asked how you learned.” You press your lips together. “I mean, is it possible for anyone?” You consider. 

“I’m afraid I don’t actually know that much about Jujutsu,” You say, lightly massaging his shoulder, focusing the energy there. “I don't think I could exorcize a curse if my life depended on it.” He shudders involuntarily, unsure why all of his emotions were right on the surface today. “What?” 

“The idea of you,” he murmurs, “And one of them in the same room.” He shakes his head. “Absolutely not.” 

“Are they as bad as people say?” You cock your head and images flash in his mind, dark hair, a warm smile lost forever, a yellow and black speckled tie. 

“They’re weak.” Gojou says, and for the first time since you’ve met him his eyes darken. “Cowardly.”

“I think I understand what you mean.” You say quietly. You help him eat breakfast, he’s still resistant to being fed, and you spend the day healing him, taking breaks to open windows and let the sunshine pool on his skin. 

“If I could get you a wheelchair,” you say brightly, it’s about an hour before sundown. “Would you let me wheel  you around the gardens?” He looks at you like you’ve lost touch with reality. “You should get outside, fresh air is good-” 

“I’m the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive,” he protests, “I can fly I do not need-” 

“Should you really be expending cursed energy like that?” You raise an eyebrow and a smile flits across his face. 

“You have limits,” his grin grows. “I do not.” You raise your eyebrows. In a second he’s floating above the bed having only had to move his hand a little. You gasp and scramble away from him. 

“See,” he says, dripping condescension, “We’re not all born weak like-” 

“Gojou-sama,” you snap, covering your eyes, “You’re still not wearing pants.” He doesn’t even have the decency to blush when he looks down and realizes his length has partially flopped it’s way out of the hole in his boxers, but he does sink back to the bed and pull the covers over himself. “Oh my god.” You massage your temples. 

“Are you going to be in trouble with your husband?” He teases, finding his groove again, shocked that he’s capable of teasing you. 

“I’m not a fucking virgin and I’m not married yet.” You grumble, and his eyes widen at that, but you brush it off, storming past him into the walk in closet on the other side of the bathroom. “I’m getting you pants.” You yell back at him. 

“Good!” He calls. “Wouldn’t want to accost your non virgin eyes.” You stomp back in and throw the pants at him. They hit him square in the chest and he gives you the softest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“No.” You say before he can ask. “Put them on yourself.” He grumbles, pain rippling through his body as he moves, but undeniably he’s so much better than he was when you arrived here. He lifts himself from the bed again, this time wearing sweatpants. He looks around and you hold out your palm, a simple black blindfold rest in your hand. “It was in the closet.” He nods, and floats down to the ground. You put it on for him, careful not to catch his hair in the knot. He catches the back of your shirt and lets you pull him through the air, down the stairs into the entrance hallway and out, through the kitchen into the sunlight. It’s golden, and the air is soft and wet and sweet. The gardens may be completely unmanaged, but there’s a wild beauty in the flowers, and he gets the pleasure of watching you light up, leaning over to smell nearly every bloom. 

“You like flowers.” He says, after a while. “That tracks.” You shrug. 

“I like a lot of things.” You pull away from him and he releases your shirt, watching how much joy you can squeeze out of this simple experience and in contrast to earlier, he wonders if this is your family’s secret, that you can reverse the energy purely from a genetic ability to adapt, and find happiness wherever you are. He feels a strange sadness settling in his chest watching your unbridled joy. The feeling of being on the outside of your life, looking in. 

A few days pass, and the two of you fall into a routine. As he regains his movement he starts to push his luck with you, wrapping his thick arms around your body, rubbing your back. It’s been almost five days since you first arrived when he wakes in the middle of the night. It wasn’t an uncommon experience, his battle instincts left him with a hair trigger. He blinks a couple times, before lifting his head. You’re fighting back tears, teeth sunk deep into your lower lip. The questions in his eyes, he doesn’t have to ask. 

“Sorry.” You whisper. “Sorry, I don’t have a reason.” The moon is full and bright, painting his bed in silver. The crickets sing through the open window. He nods, and tugs you further onto his chest. 

“I’m a little hurt you’d lie to me given that I let you brush my teeth.” He says, and as he says it he realizes despite the attempt at levity it’s true, he’d meant it as a needle but it was true. “No reason?” 

“You’re so free.” You whisper. “But in some ways, you’re just as shackled as I am. It makes me sad.” 

“Pre wedding jitters?” He says, and his words are joking but his tone is not. He wipes a tear from your cheek. 

“Something like that.” You bury your face in his bare chest. “I wonder how many women would kill to take my place right now.” That gets a laugh out of him. 

“A fair amount.” He gives you a squeeze. “But ah, I find your company preferable. To most of them.” You swallow. 

“Oh.” 

“It was a compliment.” He says, rubbing a circle in your back, pressing your body more against his. He’d begun to regain greater sensation, in addition to reduced pain, and the contours of your soft body against his were reminding him about the better parts of being alive.

“Thank you.” You say stiffly and close your eyes, but he’s unwilling to let go of this chance, unwilling to lose this moment. 

“Wait,” he says, “Wait, I want,” you’ve done so much for me, he wants to say, “I want to know, really, what you mean by that. The shackled thing.” You sigh deeply. 

“I’m not supposed to get in bed with the people I’m healing.” You mutter. “You seemed, I wanted to,” he waits for you, noting how much  you seem to struggle with expressing yourself. “I just have, I have seen so much darkness and I want so badly to believe in the light.” He nods. “But I think I tend naturally towards darkness, if that makes sense. And then I struggle with that.” You shiver. 

“I used to think, sometimes, that maybe goodness was one of those things your mother tells you about.” He pauses, he’s speaking so low you barely hear him, but you can feel the vibrations through his bare chest. “You know, adults say, ‘There’s a monster in the river’ when what they mean is don’t go in the river, it's dangerous. I used to think maybe goodness was like that, something we believed in because it was the only thing holding society together. One of those good lies.” 

“Humanity is capable of terrible things.” You whisper, and shiver in his arms, he wonders what you’ve seen, what you’ve done, what darkness you’re carrying. “But I want to believe that people will be good so badly.” He nods. 

“I wonder what it’s like to be like you,” he murmurs, “To spend your life at the mercy of others.” You stiffen under his touch. 

“I take care of myself.” 

“Not for long,” he counters, “Apparently.” It’s the wrong thing to say apparently, because you push a little away from him, and he reluctantly allows it.

“I just hope that he’s a good man. I hope he has gardens.” Gojou nods. 

“You have such simple dreams,” he stretches a little and then swears involuntarily as pain wracks his body, your healing hasn’t worked its way all the way down his spine yet. 

“I had bigger dreams once,” you protest, and he opens one eye, “I wanted, I wanted things.” 

“Like what?” He asks, and sees he’s touched a nerve, your eyes are narrowed. 

“None of your business.” You turn away from him. “Go to sleep.” He frowns, and reaches for you but you ignore him. 

“Sweetheart,” his old nickname for the women dear to him, slips from his lips like honey. “I didn’t mean there was anything wrong with your simple dreams.” 

“I think I’ve spoken to you too much.” You say, and he finds the emotion your voice is carrying to be much closer to fear than to anger. 

“When you’re married,” he says, resting a huge hand on your hip, “I could visit you.”Your jaw tightens. 

“If you remember to.” You say softly and he rolls his eyes, roughly taking you by the hips and rolling you back to him. 

“Don’t pout.” He says, feeling a bit more himself. “You’re upset because you’re worried this is meaningless to me, you’re upset because you’re a weak little dandelion seed in an uncaring, unforgiving universe. It’s upsetting. Be upset.” You let out a long breath. “And if you could say what you were thinking,” his voice takes on a light singsong quality, “I could tell you that it’s not meaningless to me.” You hide your face. 

“You’re annoying.” You mutter and he laughs. 

“You’re in bed with me.” He says, still smiling. “And I can’t tell you that you’re going to marry a good man and everything will be fine because that’s not true, I don’t know that, and frankly I can guarantee that everything won’t be fine.” You swallow. “What I can tell you is that I’m begrudgingly about to pay you a genuine compliment, so if you’d like to look me in the eyes while I do that, it would be appreciated.” You lift your  head, propping yourself up on his chest. “What you do is impressive. You’re still weak.” 

“A dandelion seed.” You say, the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “What are you, in this analogy?” He thinks about it.

“Maybe a planet?” He muses out loud. “Something with gravitas. Saturn, maybe Jupiter.” 

“Neptune maybe,” you blurt, and he smirks at you. “Because of the color!” You protest, “Because,” you stop talking, he reaches out and strokes your cheek and you lose your train of thought, stomach dropping into your feet. 

“The one thing I haven’t figured out,” he murmurs, “Is why even when you’re not working, touching you makes the pain lessen.” The joy drops from your face as you realize you’re still being analyzed, you turn your face away. “Oooh,” he crows, “You have a theory, don’t you?” You squirm. 

“I do.” 

“Are you going to share with the class?” He says, as your face is overtaken by a huge yawn. “Oh she’s tired,” he coos, “Come back to me, please.” You let him manhandle you clumsily, bringing you back into his chest, you feel his lips on the top of your head and begrudgingly acknowledge the warmth that spreads through your body at his touch. 

“Tomorrow.” You mumble. “S’nice to see you acting more like they said you would.” He starts combing his long fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. He nods absentmindedly. 

“Go to sleep,” he orders, but his tone is soft and sweet. 

He doesn’t bring it up again until you’ve both finished the breakfast that you’ve made. It’s another gray day, and you have him propped up on pillows, sitting nearly straight up. 

“I think,” there’s a little dent between your eyebrows. “I think I want to put my hands on your hips.” Gojou, having gained full use of his arms at this point, pats his thighs with a smirk. “I don’t know if um, I should do that, though.” you feel your face warm and his smirk grows. 

“Thought you weren’t a virgin.” He teases. “If you’re so experienced then you’ve certainly sat in a man's lap before.” You press your lips together. “Of course,” he drips condescension, “Whatever the lady wants.” 

“I could leave you like this.” You threaten brightly. “Half fixed. And make you do the rest 

of this the slow way through physical therapy.” He groans. “I can see you now,” you muse, “Charming the old ladies, taking your first steps maybe, six months from now.” 

“I’m not used to anyone having power over me,” he says, pursing his lips and frowning. “Oh, I’m really not used to this. Hm.” He taps his chin. “I mean, no, you couldn’t, I could hurt you, badly, and make you do it, of course I probably wouldn’t.” He stretches, and you note how much his range of movement has improved even in the last few days. “I wouldn’t, so I suppose you have power over me.” He shakes his head. “No. No no, that won’t do.” You smile at him. “No,” he raises a finger, “No, I mean, I could hurt you.” He shakes his head, visibly conflicted. “But I don’t want to-” you giggle. “And, and, you were going to tell me about your theory you had.” 

“Oh it’s not going to make this better.” You take the tray off of the bed and sit cross legged on the mattress. “You’ve spent most of  your life being hyper aware, with your guard up, and that often means sinking into a lower stance for more stability, which would mean  tensing the muscles in your lower back. You could possibly find physical touch comforting, which would mean you let your guard down, which means you’d release those muscles.” His frown deepens. 

“You’re right.” He looks out the window. “I don’t like that theory.” You shrug, and climb on top of him, he blinks at you, shocked, as you settle on top of his legs, careful to put all your weight on your knees rather than on his body. “You-” 

“You invited me.” You say, trying to steal some of his petulant confidence. He shakes his head. 

“I suppose I did.” He leans back, slipping his blindfold over his eyes as you rest your hand on his bare hips, and sighs deeply when the energy starts flowing, determined to enjoy as much of this feeling as he’s able to before you move on. 

___

He clings to you at night, he realizes, sometimes too tightly. He’s finally sleeping deeply again, now that some of the pain has reduced, and as REM comes back, so do the nightmares. He watches them die, all of them, some of them buried, some of them, he remembers upon waking, are alive and well somewhere, and his brain has just chosen this form of psychological torture to saturate his unconsciousness. 

“Hey,” he hears one night, pulling himself out of the memory of the silence, the loneliness, the unbeing of his prison, “Hey Gojou-sama, ow, ow-” 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “Sorry,” he releases you, but you don’t pull away from him, as he blinks back into focus he reads concern in your eyes. 

“Let me adjust your pillows.” You get off of him and stand, fussing about the way his body is laid out on the bed. You slide another pillow under his neck, and re adjust the one underneath his knees. “Why are you so long?” You grumble, and he nearly cracks a smile. 

“Women seem to like-” 

“I was talking about your height,” you whirl on him, the light nightgown you're wearing swaying in the night air. He shrugs. 

“I have to tease you a little.” 

“Why?” You demand, and he thinks about it. 

“I think you’re cute when you're annoyed with me,” he sighs dramatically, “It’s your cross to bear while you’re working for me, I’m afraid.” You shake your head at him. 

“I’ll sleep in the other room.” You threaten.

“No,” He smiles at you, “I don’t think you will.” You flop angrily onto the bed, still careful of jostling him too much and snuggle grumpily into his huge chest. 

“You talk too much.” You grumble. He nods, tucking your head under his chin, inspecting the red marks on your arm from where he’d held you too tightly. 

“I’ll be more careful.” He says, all traces of joking gone from his voice. “I will be.” You’re already drifting off, you hum a soft response. 

“I know you will.” 

____ 

A few more days pass, and Gojou is determined to try to walk. You’re standing with your hands on your hips, facing him. He’s sitting on the bed. 

“What happens if you can’t hold yourself up, and you get injured more?” You counter, and he considers. 

“Then I guess you’d be stuck with me longer.” He says. “What a pity that would be?” You frown, and open your arms. 

“You can try, once. Once per day.” He nods, and immediately pushes his palms on the bed, rocketing himself into a standing position. He falls right away, taking you down with him, pinning you to the wood floor, knocking the wind from your chest. 

“Ow,” you breathe, tears in your eyes, as he swears violently. You struggle to push him off of yourself. “How do you still have a fucking six pack after existing on ramen and not moving.” You complain. You’d think it would be difficult to be smug on the ground but Gojou Satoru manages it. 

“Good genes I guess.” he looks up at you. “Are you going to leave me here?” You sit up on the ground, rubbing your head.

“Just give me a second.” You close your eyes and the room spins for a moment before coming back into focus, and you stand, offering him a hand and then struggling to get his gigantic body into the bed. It takes three more days before he stumbles and catches himself, surprising you both with his range of movement. He lets out a loud whoop, and picks you up off the ground by the waist, twirling you through the air as you squeal. 

“You,” he sets you back down, a huge smile on his face. “You were worth whatever they paid you.” You return the warmth. 

“You already told me that.” 

“Well, I’m saying it again.” He spins you around like you’re swing dancing, before flopping back on the bed so hard it creaks loudly. He takes you down with him, holding you up still so that he doesn’t force you onto his lap, but into the air, guiding you to fall right next to him. You’re glowing with joy when he turns on his side, the whole room feels different, it smells like old house and rain instead of spoiled food and garbage, the light feels lighter, the shadows feel less intimidating. 

“This is the best part,” you blurt, “About what I do, it’s the best part.” He reaches out then, cupping your face with one huge hand. The world is going to eat you alive, he thinks, the world is dark, the world is monstrous, and despite the darkness you know, the darkness you carry, you are unprepared for it. He reaches inside himself for the words he needs to say to prepare you, for the old teaching muscle that has long gone stale. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Is what comes out of his mouth. You freeze, but don’t pull away. “You’re so, so beautiful when you smile like that.” You swallow, and he feels it, feels your jaw move under his palm. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, and he kicks himself. You glance out the window, and he remembers, remembers this means you’ll leave soon. 

“Let me walk with you, today, I want to.” He says, springing up off the bed, away from you, almost taking your hand and hesitating, stopping himself. “No complaining.” You frown. 

“The forecast said it was going to storm.” You say, massaging one of your shoulders. 

“If it rains we’ll go back inside.” He’s surprised at how timid you seem as he leads you down the stairs, and out into the heavy wet afternoon air. 

“You’re usually sleeping when I do this.” You note, and he nods, stretching his arms out, you marvel at the sheer size of his wingspan. 

“Better believe I’m gonna keep you on speed dial,” He smiles at you, “Maybe I’ll have to get hurt more often.” You shake your head, eyes full of reproach. 

“You better not. Just come visit me. If you remember to.” He rolls his eyes, and has to bite down on his tongue to keep from saying, as if could forget you, forget how you smelled like honeysuckle and sunshine, forget the feeling of your hands on his shoulders, his back, his temples, how you brought the world back into his room, opening the windows and letting the light in. 

“I probably will.” He says, following you down the stairs, still moving slowly, “It’s rained the last few days.” You nod. 

“I saw some ducks,” you turn to him, excited, “I saw some ducks in the pond in the backyard a few days ago and I hope they’re still there.” He notices that you don’t feel the pressure to fill the silence that he does, happy to lead him through the gardens, occasionally stopping to examine something more carefully. You walk for nearly half an hour before it starts to rain lightly. You’re wearing a white sundress, it catches in the wind as you look up at the sky with concern. 

“Inside?” He suggests, and you nod, as the heavens open up. It goes from a few drops to a full pounding downpour in seconds. 

“Don’t run,” you say to him firmly, “You’ll get hurt if you-” he takes off at a walking pace that leaves you behind in seconds, his gigantic strides the size of several of your own. “Please,” you call, just before you slip in the mud and he turns around, catching you before you can hit the ground. The rain is cool, and it’s running in rivers down both of your faces as he pulls you to your feet. 

“You’re too slow,” he announces, plucking you off your feet and cradling you to his chest, carrying you back, through the hills and the gardens, tucking you against his chest as your dress soaks through and clings to his body. His t-shirt saturates with water quickly, his white blonde hair losing all volume, falling in little waving tendrils around his face. In the distance, thunder cracks, and you cower against his chest. He wonders where it falls on a grand ethical scale that he hopes it comes more, louder, that you’re forced to seek further refuge in him. You curl two little fists of his t shirt, and he shifts you, tucking your body under one arm and letting you bury your face in his neck. To his surprise and delight, you lock your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he closes the last few feet to the house. He opens a french door and deposits you on the ground, closing and locking it behind him. You start removing the hair from your face, looking around for a towel. “We should shower.” He says, taking his sopping t-shirt off, and starting towards the stairs. You hesitate, he turns around to look at you shivering in your nearly translucent dress. “It doesn’t have to be together.” He says dryly. “There’s more than one bathroom upstairs.” You nod, but reach for his hand. 

“O-okay.” He pulls you into him, lifting your shivering body and walking quickly up the stairs. He carries you through his room and sets you on the counter in the bathroom, disappearing and re appearing with a huge t-shirt. He opens his mouth to tell you that you can leave, that you can walk through the double doors on the left and there’s another bathroom, but you peel yourself out of your dress quickly, standing in your panties and bra, depositing your dripping dress in the sink. 

“A-are you,” it’s been a while since Gojou Satoru was genuinely startled, “Do you want to?” He gestures towards the shower, and you nod. “Because you’re worried about me falling, or because you-” 

“Just hurry up and turn it on.” You snip, “Please, I’m freezing.” He thinks about it. 

“No, I think I want to hear you say it.” He says, hesitating before turning the water on. 

“P-p-please, Gojou,” you beg, teeth chattering, “Please, please turn the water on, I, I want,” he raises an eyebrow. 

“Say it.” He practically sings the words. “Say it and I’ll start the water.” 

“I w-want to shower, with you,” you force the words out, “N-not because, because I’m afraid you’re going to fall, even i-if that’s definitely a concern.” He turns the spigot and water streams down. He reaches for you, pulling you into his chest, and cupping your freezing face in two huge hands. 

“If you want me to stop,” he breathes, “If you want me to stop you have to tell me to stop-” You move so quickly towards him you slip on the floor, and he catches you, cupping your face in two huge hands, leaning down but letting you close the distance between you, kissing him hard, with a burning, urgent desperation. For exactly, one moment, you catch him by surprise before he takes over, unclipping your bra in one smooth movement, running his hands over your damp, freezing skin. He kisses down your jaw and his mouth is so warm on your neck that you whimper. At that sound, he loses control of himself, practically ripping off his pants while you step out of your underwear before you both get into the shower. The water runs between your bodies, Gojou finds you were softer, sweeter than he ever could have imagined. It’s been months, years maybe, since he’s felt the touch of another person so keenly.    

“Oh, oh my god,” you choke out, as his lips close around one of your nipples, slipping a hand between your legs and slowly starting to warm you up. You’re so reactive, he finds himself pulling away just enough so that he can watch you, that he can watch the way your lips part, the way youre eyes widen. He angles you expertly, keeping you just under the water enough to keep you warm, and he makes you feel so small, so safe. 

“I was so worried,” he purrs, “That no one had ever taken care of you,” you let out another hiccupping gasp, back arching against the tile as he effortlessly wrings pleasure out of you, his lips on your neck, on your cheek, breath on your ear, “And it seems I was right, you poor thing.” You babble something incoherent, clinging to his upper arms for dear life. “I think I want to see you cum like this,” he muses, maddeningly calm, “Like this, right in front of me.” 

“M so close,” you manage, unable to sit still, “I’m, I’m so, so close.” He nods, and smirks. 

“Tell me,” he growls in your ear, playing you like some kind of musical instrument, “Tell me how much better I am than anyone else, tell me, I know it’s true,” 

“You are,” you breathe, and your words nearly get lost in a moan, “You, you’re so, so much better, so much-” 

“Tell me I’m the best,” he demands sharply, and when you don’t recoil from him pride burns in his chest. 

“You, you’re the best,” your teeth sink down into your lower lip for a moment, “The bet I’ve ever felt, I’m-” 

“You wanna cum for me,” he interrupts you, “You wanna cum harder than you ever have?” You nod emphatically, “You’re gonna wait until I say you can.” You nod more. “Such a good girl,” he coos, either unaware or more likely, he’s ambivalent to how hard you’re working to hold back your high. “Go ahead, pretty girl, cum for me.” His voice gets dark and posessive, it sends you right over the cliff of your high, waves of pleasure rolling through your body, manifesting as little shivers and twitches. Your vision whites out and when you float back to earth he’s still in front of you, holding you against his chest in the warm water, feeling you tremble. 

“No ones, no ones ever,” you start to mumble. 

“I know.” he coos, “I know, sweetheart, I could tell.” You swat halfheartedly at him and he takes your wrist, pinning it to the tile above your head. “But I suppose, it’s not like anyone else required the prep I do.” He lifts you, hooking his arms under your legs, holding you up against the wall. 

“How has no one ever checked your ego?” You murmur, he leans in and kisses you softly. 

“No one can.” You open your mouth to respond but all thoughts fly from your mind the second you feel him pressing at your entrance. He moves slowly, again allowing you time to stop, to tell him no, but you just suck in a sharp breath as he eases inside you. “Feel alright?” He asks, genuinely. You nod, and he throws his head back, losing a bit of his jovial composure. “Fuck.” He starts slow, pulling soft, musical sounds from your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Feels so good,” you mumble, and his hands dig harder into the plush of your thighs. “So good.” He leans over and kisses you hard, picking up the pace, dragging his heavy cock against your soft walls with every thrust. 

“Yeah baby?” He says, and there’s almost a degree of humility to it as you nod, your freezing extremities finally warming after the rain. 

“Yes, daddy,” you manage, and feel him pause, you look up at him, and open your mouth to apologize for it slipping out but he cuts you off with a wide grin. 

“Daddy?” He slams his hips against yours, and you moan loudly, “You filthy little thing,” he fucks you harder, “Daddy, huh?” You hide your face from him, unable to focus on anything other than the way he’s holding you the way he’s fucking you. “I better hear that one again,” he says, groaning, “Fuck, you’re driving me insane.” He snarls the last word, “You can cum on daddy’s cock then, can’t you, dontcha wanna be good for me?” You nod. 

“I, I do,” you breathe, “M’close.” 

“Cum with me,” he orders, pressing his forehead to yours as his thrusts become sporadic and he chases his own high as your own over takes you. He pulls out at the last possible second, remembering regretfully that you weren’t his, not really. Your nails dig into his shoulder he shudders against you. You rub circles into his back when he finally lets your feet touch the ground. He bends down and kisses your head. “Daddy?” 

“We’re not talking about it.” You grumble. 

“Oh,” Gojou says, reaching for a bottle of shampoo, “We’re going to talk about it every day, for as long as I live, and I hope the conversation goes something like, ‘Give it to me daddy,’ and I’ll say yes, y/n I do in fact feel like giving it to you-” he catches an odd look on your face. “What?” He squirts some shampoo into his hand. 

“You just admitted you wanted to see me every day for as long as you live.” You say softly, legs trembling. A slight pink dusts his cheek. 

“So what?” He murmurs. 

“So you’re going to miss me.” You tease, and he frowns, massaging some soap into your hair. 

“Who says I’m going to let you leave?” He snips. “I dare them to try and take you from me.” 

“I’m engaged, theoretically, if the paperwork has been handled.” You say, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Not sure if people get married where you come from but fidelity is part of it here.” He says and you take the shampoo and rock onto the balls of your feet in order to get some in his hair. He lets you massage it in, but his mind is already working. He liked so few people, and so few of the people he liked were still alive. Was he really going to let you leave, let you go off and marry an unknown? Someone who could hurt you, who might not appreciate the way you always got food on your face when you were eating, the way you’d move with him while he slept like some kind of heat seeking missile, might not appreciate your smile, your kindness, your-

“I can’t cheat on a man I’ve never met.” You shrug. “And I think it’s good, I wouldn’t want to marry a man who had experience.” He considers, and an idea pops into his head. 

“How long, do you think before you’ll have to leave?” He’s pleased to see that considering this seems to make you unhappy, makes you lace your fingers with his. 

“Ah, you’d need to be back up fully to where you were pre injury. You can’t run really, and I was told you were quite athletic?” 

“I think I’ve proven that I’m quite athletic.” He counters, and you shrug. “But I was going to make you an offer, if you’re interested?” You look up at him, your eyes so round and full of trust. “I could, while you’re here, show you how to please your husband?” You look away shyly. “You want to do a good job for him, don’t you?” You nod. “No pressure, of course.” You purse your lips, thinking. 

“I, I want to. But I’m not sure if I want to, selfishly.” You take a breath before continuing. "I, I do want to be good, but I also want to um," you squirm with embarrassment. "To please you, to learn to please you, and that's selfish." He reels for a second considering that your definition of selfish includes pleasing him.

“Would it be so bad,” he pushes some soap from your face, keeping it from your eyes, “To be selfish?” You nod, shuddering. 

“But I do want to be good.” You give him a wicked little smile. Oh, you sweet little thing, he thinks.

“Of course you do.” He crows, and the two of you slip easily back into banter. He waits until you’re sleeping, until the moon is high in the sky, to get up and get his cell phone from the drawer it’s been in for the past month. The voicemail box is full, he has hundreds of texts messages, but he doesn’t check them, standing in the hallway. She picks up on the second ring. 

“How are you?” She asks, a note of desperation to her voice. 

“Better.” He responds, looking out the window at the grass waving in the post storm wind. 

“Was she alright? I know she’s young.” Utahime, leans against the wall at the school in Tokyo. 

“She’s nearly put me back together.” He confirms. “Such a sweet little thing I’m surprised you let her anywhere near me.” 

“Gojou Satoru, if you laid a hand on that-” 

“She’s 25,” he whines, “And, she did the hand laying, which is actually, actually why I called.” 

“What do you want?” Utahime groans. 

“Who is she engaged to?” He asks. “I know it’s being finalized currently.” 

“You care?” She asks, and the silence on the other end is enough confirmation. “Wow.” 

“Regrettably,” Gojou says, “I’m genuinely attached.” 

“I don’t know, but I can find out.” She says, “It’s uh, it’s nice to hear from you.” 

“You missed me!” He whispers and she swears violently before hanging up. He closes the phone and stands in the doorway to his bedroom for a moment, unwilling to disturb you while you’re sleeping so peacefully. “What’s the point,” he murmurs, “Of being the strongest, if I can’t at least protect you?”

LISTEN,,,,sukuna would be perfect as a manul cat

Just reblogging so I can find it easier since I love these fics sm :)

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST

MIYA ATSUMU

series

a sprained heart || in which atsumu sprains his ankle, meets a cute doctor, is a shameless flirt, and sakusa is over it

r.i.c.e

hard to get

stolen heart

causing a scene

one-shots

favouritism

over all over again

drabbles

bunk beds

breakfast

sending signals

mornings like this

07:30

04:20

tattoos

MIYA OSAMU

one-shots

off-season

fake fiancé

drabbles

saturday nights

13:25

out of reach

headcanons

food as a love language

most popular recipe

SUNA RINTARO

series

enchanted to meet you || in which you meet rin when he finds you crying in the boys restroom

first meeting

birthday parties & tiny onesies

love at first sight

the adventures of suna suki || in which you and suna raise your first daughter, suki

baby fever (prequel)

first day of school

unicorn milkshake

away games

most special valentine

drabbles

shut up and kiss me

late nights in different apartments

birthday kisses

KITA SHINSUKE

series

the slow rise || in which the local baker falls for the charming local farmer (i’m pushing my cottagecore kita agenda)

new recipe

granny yumie’s boy

only you

drabbles

01:47

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

series:

the miya method || in a moment of weakness, sakusa kiyoomi does the unthinkable; ask miya atsumu for advice. it goes about as well as one might expect.

advice from miya atsumu

lunch date

lipstick

drabbles

jealous

14:37

braids

about last night

AKAASHI KEIJI

series

royal au (untitled so far!)

i: wonderstruck

ii:

iii:

one-shots

tutoring

got it all

cashmere scarf

canon in d

bachelor party

birthdays

drabbles

canon in d sequel

working from home

headcanons

coworkers to lovers

gifts

KUROO TETSUROU

series

office rivals series || in which your work rival tricks you into going on a date with him.

office rivals masterlist

drabbles

sleeping patterns

all talk?

birthday

worth the wait

OIKAWA TOORU

one-shots/fics

roommates

drabbles

you belong with me

03:15

blurry

first fight

pretty boy (barista oiks)

five more minutes

small victories

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

series

mercenary!iwa (royalty au hehe)

one-shots

roommates

dad!iwa

team japan’s athletic trainer

valentine’s day

drabbles

slow mornings

headcanons

more dad!iwa

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

report card

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

drabbles

anniversary

HIRUGAMI SACHIRO

one-shots/fics

veterinarian recommended child support

puppies

drabbles

dad!hirugami

untitled… just some scenarios tbh

gojo x reader

waking up in the morning

the sun beams through the white curtains, they blow forward as the wind passes through the open window satoru forgot to close. he twists n’ turns eventually getting tired of trying to fall back into sleep deciding to open. his sight falls on you— you’re not facing him, he traces a finger up your back wanting your skin to be the first thing he touches today. you move a little, your ticklish, it makes him smile. he sits up propping himself up on one elbow, leaning over to you— looking over your shoulder to see your face. you sleep so soundly, he almost feels bad about what he’s about to do. he kisses from your shoulder up to your cheek making you let out a soft groan— he never lets you sleep in. you move your hand up to his face trying to push it away. “stop— its a saturday” you say inbetween in a yawn, as you stretch out your arms.

“c’mon— we can go get breakfast?” he whines, you lay back on the pillow, the cover pulled up to your chin as you stare him down with an irritated look— but his smile never fades, you roll your eyes “fine! but only if i get to pick the place.”

“fine with me.”

you wrap the white towel around you, tucking it in at the top before walking over to the bathroom’s sink where satoru is, he glances over at you with a quick smile and then back to the mirror to finish brushing his teeth.

you look down to the corner of the counter seeing your toothbrush sitting face up with toothpaste already on it— you smile, turning the knob to the sink letting it run under water for a second before mimicking satoru’s actions.

you grab your jacket off the coat rack before putting it on, “oh! how about that place we saw down the street”

“the cafe?”

“yeah!”

“god no!”

“why? you’ve never even been there before!”

guilty silence overtakes the room, “no! you said we’d try that place together” you fake a sob. he walks out of the bedroom with the shades he was looking for in his hand. “sorry— i got hungry on the way home last night!”

satoru is behind you now waiting as you unlock and open the front door. you let out a sigh, “you suck.”

“what? im doing you a favor!” he shuts the door behind him, the rest of his speech is muffled.

taking a nap

it’s silent. the bedroom is dim, the only light is the one coming from the evening sky peeking through the window. satoru is finally asleep. it took him minutes that felt like hours, the two of you were supposed to be watching a movie— and you were, until you turned over into your usual position falling asleep. he didn’t notice until something funny came up on the screen making him laugh and it he looked over to see if you found it funny but instead finding you happily asleep.

his happy expression relaxes, slightly because of disappointment and slightly because it soothed him to watch you sleep.

then, was his first attempt, he closed his eyes trying to sleep—- but it didn’t work, so he decided to get a snack instead. strawberries, some were sweet some sour. satoru started to guess which flavor the strawberry would be before he put it in his mouth. most were sour.

he was pulled out of his head when he felt you turn, now your back was facing him. he put the container of strawberries on the nightstand scooting over closer to you, he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to his chest, holding you like he was a scared little boy with a teddy bear. when in reality he was just an insomniac who couldn’t sleep without his girlfriend.

it calmed him to feel your breathing, to know that you were alive and here with him. if it wasn’t for you he would’ve never closed his eyes that evening.

but if it also wasn’t for you he wouldn’t have woken up with a pillow thrown in his face. “did you eat my strawberries?”

Bc it was his birthday yesterdayyyy

contact photo | sakusa kiyoomi.

SAKUSA BDAY WEEK MASTERLIST.

synopsis: your roommate is not too happy when his teammates comes over and takes a liking to you—especially when it’s one setter in particular

tags: nsfw 18+, minors do not interact, roommates to lovers, jealous sakusa, possessiveness, afab! reader, dom! sakusa, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, he takes a photo of you after

word count: 2.3k

notes: ty ris again for beta-ing sobsobsob you’re the loml

sakusa likes to think that he’s one to keep his temper under control. sure, he’s a bit blunt and lots of things tend to get on his nerves more often than not—but he’s not one to lose his temper, and he’s certainly not one to let his composure go.

but then you giggle at miya’s jokes. now that, he just can’t seem to ignore.

miya is a sore spot. miya is everything sakusa is not, everything he chooses not to be, everything he can’t be. miya is loud, exuberant, cocky, doesn’t care about being reserved. so of course, it’s not hard for him to let a few flirty comments glide off his tongue, and pretty soon, you’ve exchanged numbers—right before sakusa’s eyes.

sakusa kiyoomi has been raised by his mother and older sister to never treat someone he loves as an object, he knows you’re not someone to own, that you have your own feelings and your own wants and needs—but still, you’re his. he’s not exactly told you that yet, and he’s not exactly made a move either, but you’re still his.

your socks get caught in his compression sleeves in the laundry machine, you have free access to his snacks in the pantry, you know where the spare key to his room is, and he lets you skip out on your turn with sweeping in exchange for doing the dishes—miya atsumu has never had a taste of domestic life with you. and you might only be sakusa’s roommate, but you’re his roommate. his.

not miya’s.

“kiyoomi,” you hiss, rubbing your elbow as he closes the door behind you and presses you against it rather harshly. throwing him a glare, you shove lightly at his chest so he’s not pressed up against you like he is. “what has gotten into you? why are you acting like a pissy teenager—”

“don’t text miya.”

“what are you—”

“do not text miya. ever.”

“are you my dad?” you raise a brow, crossing your arms. he huffs, lips curling into a slight pout, jutting out in frustration as you refuse to just listen to him.

“not miya,” he insists. “anyone but miya.”

Keep reading

Our Little Secret - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Spider-Man/Spider-Girl AU, Fluff, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Series Summary: Eren Jaeger, a 21-year-old virgin college student who loves his camera a little bit too much, has a crush on you. Every night, he switches on his camera and talks about you but he never could find the courage to speak to you in real life. Strangely enough, he finds it easy for him to befriend Spider-Girl, the crime fighting vigilante, not knowing that you both share the same identity.

Chapter Summary: A prologue to the story where you meet Eren Jaeger, the resident hot nerd, for the first time.

Content Warnings: explicit sex scene (happens at the end of the series, can be skipped if you want), swearing, mentions of characters going through depression, traumatic past events

Word Count: 4k

“So, there’s this girl.”

Twenty-one-year-old Eren Jaeger has been making a video journal every day for the last three years of his life, but never, not once, did he ever start with “So, there’s this girl,” like a lovesick fool.

Making daily entries of his life as a college student may sound a bit weird when he has zero social interactions with popular kids, zero chances of being invited to frat parties, and zero experience in dating cute girls—or just girls, period. Eren won’t think of himself as a nerd, despite what the jocks and rich kids called him. His neighbor—a.k.a his one and only friend—Armin Arlert is a nerd and Eren looks nothing like him.

Unlike the blonde boy who dresses himself in baggy clothes and huge thick eyeglasses, Eren dresses casually in a pair of dark jeans and a button-down denim shirt with his long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mother used to say that he was the prettiest boy in the world, but then again, she was his mother so she was obliged to say that. He thinks he looks okay.

He has dark brown hair, silky smooth. When he was younger, his strands used to be long enough for him to dress himself up like Pocahontas on Halloween without having to wear a wig (he got five buckets full of candies in one night, the neighbors loved him, he was the prettiest Pocahontas ever), but since he often got mistaken as a girl, he decided to trim it off. Now, his hair is only long enough to graze his shoulders every time he wears it loose. He tries to look cool and sporty by tying it up in a man-bun, which is probably quite popular in, like, a decade ago but whatever.

What makes him look totally different from those bunch of losers–no offense to all the nerds out there–is the fact that he is actually quite muscular for a college student. He does a part-time job every summer at his uncle's moving company where he's forced to lift stuff, ranging from boxes full of clothes and delicate dishes to a three-piece living room sectional. It builds up his arms and core, giving him a nice set of pecs and a pair of guns that don’t belong to someone who stays up all night playing Days Gone.

He’s taller than most of the nerds too, thankfully, standing six feet tall with his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he walks. And unlike Armin who has a human-size pillow featuring a printed image of a half-naked anime girl in a questionable lying pose, Eren’s bed is as dull as his life—a single size bed with normal size pillows and gray sheets that he wishes someday can smell pleasantly like a girl’s bergamot perfume instead of his yesterday’s sweat.

What makes him look a little bit like a nerd is probably the way he carries his Canon EOS 90D camera in his hands at all times. At one point, he swore he heard a girl named Hitch laughing behind his back, jeering, “Bet you a hundred bucks he named his camera Rachel or something and pretends it’s his girlfriend.” Eren pouted and groused under his breath for the rest of the day because Hitch was completely wrong about it. He doesn’t treat his camera as his girlfriend. He treats his camera as his life partner. They’re committed to each other. It isn’t just a fling. And no, its name isn’t Rachel. It’s Sarah. But that’s beside the point.

Nerds often wear thick eyeglasses due to their endless hours of gaming, binging TV shows and anime, or reading hentai mangas late at night. Even though Eren does all of those things, his eyesight is perfectly fine, maybe even better than most people. He’s shared infinite hours of gaming too—Overwatch is his favorite online game at the moment—but his vision is so perfect that he often catches the little details that people missed or perhaps he’s just pretty observant. But Eren doesn’t like his eyes that much. They’re too green, too radiant, and combined with his thick eyebrows knitted together in a neverending frown, they make him look a bit… frightening. They make him seem unapproachable.

“You’ve got a resting bitch face, that’s your problem,” Armin concluded one night as they sprawled next to each other on the floor with their Xbox controllers in hands. “That’s why you always scare people off. This is why you don’t have a girlfriend, man.”

“Yeah, 'cause you’re so popular yourself,” Eren snorted which was quickly followed by a groan when Armin’s character on the screen managed to shoot him dead for the fifteenth time that night. “You fucking kidding me right now? Gonna shoot me from behind like that? That's cheap, bro. I was still changing my weapons.”

“Pussy. I would’ve had your ass killed in a real war within seconds,” Armin mocked back, fixing his eyeglasses. “And excuse me, I don’t have a girlfriend because I choose not to have a girlfriend. I’m loyal to my wife.”

“Your wife is a 2D character with fox ears wearing a kimono that highlights her unproportional boobs.”

“Yes, your point?”

Eren sighed in defeat. When he said he was married to his fictional waifu, Armin wasn’t kidding. All those photoshopped pictures he hung on his wall and the silver wedding ring he kept around his fourth finger were solid pieces of evidence of that.

But Eren never really cared about finding himself a girlfriend. Actually, despite popular beliefs, he had a few girls asking him out for a coffee date. That goth girl Mikasa Ackerman was even obsessing over him at some point. He received a text from her one day that said, “Do you feel it?” which he answered with a frown, “Feel what?” Not a few seconds later, another text appeared on his screen. “I’ve got your voodoo doll. I’m sucking your balls right now.” And Eren, almost right away, thought All right, that’s enough social interaction for the day. He changed his phone number right after. He low-key wanted to change his name too and maybe invent a new whole identity for him, just to be safe.

Now, let’s go back to his video journal. Due to some personal reasons, Eren has been making one every night, usually right after he got home where his memory was still fresh. Today, his last class is canceled so he returns earlier than usual to the small house he shares with his Aunt Dina. She was the one who took him and his older brother Zeke into her home right after their parents passed away. Zeke, three years older than he is, has been taking a late shift at a local restaurant so he won’t be back before midnight.

“Hey,” Eren greets the beautiful old lady as he closes the front door behind him.

“Hey, darling,” Dina responds with a benign smile. “You’re early. How was your day?”

“Last class was canceled. A bit burned out from all the pop quizzes but if I could survive high school, I think I’ll live. I’ll be in my room if that’s okay?”

“Sure. Gonna talk to your girlfriend again?”

So, yeah, the camera is his life partner but his computer? Now that’s his girlfriend. “Yep.” Placing a little greeting kiss on her cheek, Eren makes his way to his room. He yawns as he tosses his bag without a care to his bed, switching on his iMac before he plops himself down on his favorite swivel chair.

Throwing his head back, he heaves the loudest sigh ever known to mankind as if he had the roughest workday on NASA trying to stop an asteroid from hitting the earth when all he did was try not to cry over the pop quiz he had in his advanced statistics class. It’s some kind of stress relief for him, sighing like that, which is another habit that he often does just like how he nibbles on his bottom lip whenever he feels nervous. That sigh is also a signal for his other girlfriend to come along.

“Hey ya, girl,” Eren coos as a little Siberian Husky climbs up to his lap. He just bought her from a very shady pet shop called “Bow Wow.” She’s a four-month-old puppy with a black and white fluffy coat and striking icy blue eyes. She always does this little bark whenever Eren tilts up his chin and howls at her as if she’s trying to communicate by imitating him but she’s too young to produce a howl. It never fails to make him laugh. “Who needs a girlfriend when I have you,” he giggles, nuzzling their noses together. “Not that I’m into bestiality or anything, but I think you’re super cute, Muffin.”

And yes, her name is Muffin, literally because the first thing he saw after he stepped out of Bow Wow—god, he hated that name—was this little girl wolfing down a blueberry muffin as if her life depended on it. Does he regret it? Probably. Should’ve named her something better like Grey Wind or Nymeria or something. Then again, Game of Thrones’ ending sucked balls so maybe he’s glad he didn’t name his dog after stupid direwolves that literally contributed nothing to the show but have cool-looking CGI.

Activating his iSight camera, Eren watches the little green indicator lights up above his monitor. He starts recording, staring blankly at the screen for a couple of seconds as he contemplates what he should say as a form of greeting. His favorite introduction had always been, “Today sucks donkey’s ass,” which promptly followed by him rambling for a whole thirty minutes about how ridiculously boring college was, or complaining about how good his archenemy Jean Kirstein’s hair looked that day—that stupid horseface.

If he was having a good day, he tended to be more chatty, not just talking about his day but also making theories about life itself. His last video lasted for almost two hours, trying to answer “Does fate exist? If so, do we have free will?” It was the stupidest two hours he’d ever wasted in his life as he, by the end of his session, couldn’t even come up with a single gratifying answer.

But today, Eren can't think of anything else but one thing, or rather, a person, which is why he gives up with a groan, rubbing a hand over his face as his cheeks turn rosy. Keeping one hand on his puppy’s head, idly stroking its fur, he stares straight at the camera and confesses, “So, there’s this girl.”

This girl is you, one of the most popular girls on his campus. You’re not notorious for your skimpy clothes or getting handsy at parties. Honestly, you’re not even sure why almost everyone—even several teachers—knows your name. Sure, you’re one of the brightest kids in the university who has a few science trophies under your belt, but surely, that’s not what makes you famous, is it?

But unlike you, Eren knows perfectly why you’re popular. You’re kind, every junior knows your name because you’re a reliable senior who’s always eager to help people. You’re not only smart, but you’re witty too. You have a wicked sense of humor, sarcasm is your weapon of choice, and your confidence level is over the roof. Eren can tell from how easily you can make people smile and laugh whenever you strike up a conversation. You have the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on a girl’s face—or anyone’s face, really, maybe even more beautiful than the smile he used to witness on his mother’s face. It doesn’t help that you’re super cute too—cuter than Muffin, even, and that’s saying something.

There are so many things he adores about you and he knows that once he opens his mouth to form your name, he’ll never stop until his computer explodes from overheating. He’s been trying not to talk about you for so long, keeping all of these emotions bottled up inside his chest because he doesn’t want to sound like an obsessive stalker more than he already is. He’s too ashamed to admit it, but he’s been keeping his eyes on you for… what, maybe a couple of years by now? God, he’s such an embarrassment. Even right now he’s giving himself secondhand embarrassment by watching his face turning all lovey-dovey on screen as he talks about you. But how can he not after what happened today?

It was during lunch break when he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He was sitting in the backyard of his campus, just chilling on the ground with his legs stretched out, not caring if it would leave grass stains and dirt on his dark blue jeans—which he would enormously regret in the next seven minutes as it made him look like he just shit his pants. He was playing with his camera—because what else could he be doing? Talking to himself? He already did that during the first period—when he caught sight of you sitting on a bench with a few of your close friends: Sasha, Historia, and Annie (yes, aside from knowing your habits and your favorite sweaters, he memorized your friends’ names too, what a loser).

Sasha was telling a story with her mouth full of a salami sandwich—which was nothing new, of course—and you looked so adorable when you pushed a lock of stray hair behind your ear, listening intently with a little angelic smile breaking on your pretty lips.

Now, Eren didn’t mean to be a stalker. He knew how terrible it felt to be stalked by someone after what he went through with Mikasa. But he had taken a thousand pictures of you without you knowing, so why should he stop now? Plus, he had never seen you wearing that blouse with that skirt before and he had to have this look in his collection.

“Eren you stupid fuck,” he mumbled to himself as he brought his camera to his face. “Could’ve just told her she looked beautiful–maybe even ask her out on a date, but no, you just had to be gross.” And yet, he still did it. Switching his shooting mode to portrait, he adjusted the ISO and focused the camera on you. He pressed the shutter button repeatedly, taking pictures after pictures, every bit of your smile, the way your eyes turned crescents as you laughed, the gestures you made as you took the lead of the conversation.

God, you were breathtaking.

He took a quick look at the photos, reviewing them with a little content sigh escaping his lips. “I am so whipped.” He had taken around twenty pictures, which meant he had to take another twenty before he was satisfied.

Repeating the same action, he zoomed in to focus better on your facial features. Through his lenses, he noticed how you were wearing a new shade of lipstick that day, a little bit pinker than red, which made you look younger—and made him want to kiss you even more but that was a secret he would bring to his grave (unless you are willing to stop for a full make-out session behind the bleachers, of course).

He was smiling to himself as he took your pictures when suddenly, you spun your head around and looked directly into his camera.

“Shit!” Startled so hard he almost pissed his pants, his camera slipped off his grip and fell onto his lap. Panicking, he tried to gather his belongings quickly in his arms because apparently, his pea-sized brain thought it would be a great idea to run away instead of trying to make up excuses like how a normal person would do in that situation. To his defense, being normal wasn’t really his thing. Being a fucking dumbass was more like it.

“Hey there, whatcha doin’?” You greeted in a sing-song voice with your hands placed above your knees as you bowed down to match his eye level.

“I—I—” Yeah, that’s great, genius, just stutter like a fucking idiot, that would make everything better. He gulped. “I was, uh…” Say something faster, say something faster. “N-not taking your pictures.” Say something better, say something better. “Landscapes. I do landscapes. I was—I was taking pictures of the, uh, the park—the yard—the campus.” Fuck, just stop speaking. Never speak again, oh my God.

He’s cute, was the first thought that entered your head. And an idiot was the second one. But that was what made your smile grow a little wider. “So you weren’t taking pictures of me?”

“N-no, why would I?”

“I don’t know, maybe you find me cute?”

He almost cho—no, he choked. He definitely did. “I don’t find you… c-cute.” Somewhere at the back of his head, someone is shouting, “LIEEEEESSSS!”

“Oh, no,” you faked a pout. “It would've made me happy if you did.”

Is she... flirting with me? This was your first time talking to him, and you were flirting with him? Eren was about to explode. He would've punched himself in the face to make sure he wasn't dreaming if you weren't looking down at him with your pretty eyes.

Marry me, oh my God, marry me. “I was just taking a picture of the cherry blossom tree. You just happened to be sitting under it.” Hey, for once, he actually made sense! Time to pat himself on the back.

“I see,” you said, taking a step back when he rose to his feet to avoid your heads bumping against one another—Eren was dumb enough not to think about that before he jumped up. “We’re similar then. ‘Cause I’m an artist and I draw landscapes from time to time. Can I take a look at your photos? Might give me some inspiration.”

“Umm—no.” He shook his head, more times than necessary.

You did this little cute thing where you tilted your head slightly to the side and Eren thought, Fuck, I should’ve gotten this look on camera. “Why not?”

“‘Cause, uh… My pictures are boring. They won’t inspire you.”

“I don't think so. You’re from the photography club, right? I think I saw you documenting our homecoming party. I saw the photos you took. They’re pretty cool.”

Eren was so happy he felt like he was about to throw up a bucket of rainbows—or his insides, which would've made more sense. You noticed him? You acknowledged his presence? He wasn’t a speck of dust in your world, but actually a whole size human being that you remembered by face? Holy shit, his heart rejoiced. Holy—

Holy shit, his eyes widened in horror. I am so fucked.

Because now he couldn’t lie, could he?

“What’s wrong?” That little angelic smile of yours turned into a devilish smirk, letting him know that yes, dumbass, I saw through your lies, but Eren only felt his heart thumping faster because damn, that smirk was hot.

“I–I have to go to class,” he stammered, slinging his bag on one shoulder before he made his run but you were fast to catch him by his wrist.

She’s touching me. She’s actually touching me. Her fingers are so soft, so delicate. I want–

“Just one look?” If your smile didn’t work on him, it was time for you to use your ultimate weapon: batting your eyelashes. “Please?” You asked with a pout and Eren swore, he just felt his jeans turn ten times tighter.

“I... can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I took pictures of my dick.” Now, clearly, that wasn’t the best excuse to say but it was the best one he could come up with when all he could think about was how you smelled pleasantly like strawberry (is it her shampoo? fuck, that's cute). His reason made sense too, in a way, so hopefully, that would work.

You quirked up an eyebrow, not judging him for his actions, but simply not believing him. “Fine,” you muttered, and Eren almost breathed out in relief, when suddenly your hand swooped in to steal the camera from his hands. He yelped in surprise—an actual girly yelp—before he felt like his soul just left his body. Right, so plans for today: jump off a fucking bridge and die.

Then, the devil whispered in his ear: or you can just steal it back from her.

Eren reached out a hand but you were faster, swinging his camera to the side and spinning your body around. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t snatch the stupid thing from your grasp. Growing desperate, he shrouded his arms around your body from behind, catching you off guard for a few seconds, enough for him to pry the camera from your hold (Eren was too caught up in a frenzy to realize that he was practically giving you a teddy bear hug). Instead of running away, he did the most brilliant thing his dysfunctional brain could come up with.

He deleted the pictures. All of them. And Eren thought, ah, so this is what dying must feel like.

Thankfully, he had already backed up all the photos he took yesterday on his computer but these last photos he snapped—with you wearing this new wonderful blouse—he had to kiss them goodbye.

“Here,” he said, returning the camera to you with his shoulders sagged forward, and a great wrench of sadness in his chest.

Your forehead creased in lines, a bit confused. Clicking your thumbs against the buttons, you realized that his memory card was empty. “Did you just delete all the pictures in here?”

“No,” he replied, rubbing his nape as he looked away. Then, he added a little, “Yes,” with his face turning scarlet.

“Do you have copies of them?”

“Some of them…”

“But not the ones with me sitting under the cherry blossom tree?”

He tucked his chin, kicking one foot against the ground. “No,” he murmured under his breath.

Ah, he’s so cute, you held back a laugh. You wished you could shrink his six feet tall body so you could carry him inside your pocket, maybe dress him up in a bunny suit so he could cheer you up during rainy days. “Well, let’s fix that, shall we?”

Eren almost dislocated his jaw when he saw you lift the camera in the air. Making a peace sign to accompany the gleeful grin on your face, you faced the lens and pressed the shutter button. “There,” you said, returning the camera to his hands with a radiant smile. “I’m not sure if I got the cherry blossom tree in the picture, but I can guarantee you got everything else.” Still flabbergasted, Eren could only stare at the camera, his fingers shaking as the screen showed a close-up picture of your beautiful face. “Don’t delete it this time, big boy.”

With one last smile, you pivoted on your heels, your hair fluttering as the warm wind of spring caressed your strands. Eren felt like he was living in a fucking shoujo manga where he was the heroine clothed in a frilly summer dress and you were his rugged, super masculine male lead. God, he could already hear wedding bells ringing in his head.

“And that,” Eren talks to his computer screen, finishing his video journal of the day (it’s already one and a half hours long for fuck’s sake), “ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how your best boy, Eren Jaeger, had his heart stolen from the very first meeting. I think it went well.” He brings his gaze to his lap, scratching his furry friend behind her ear. “Don’t you think so, Muffin?” The puppy lets out a growl in response. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re still my number one girl,” he chortles, lifting her in the air just so he can nuzzle his nose against her belly.

He exhales heavily, casting a dreamy gaze on the ceiling. “I can’t believe she knows I exist.”

This is the best day of my life.

If only a mere thought of you acknowledging his presence already makes him feel so surreal, then maybe he should start consuming his chill pills to avoid having a cardiac arrest because once he discovers the truth about your identity, he’s going to lose it for sure.

Because you’re not just the it girl on your campus now, are you?

“And we’re back on earth,” you say to the little boy in your arms as you return to your feet. The toddler, dressed in an adorable Spider-Man costume, wobbles on his little feet, dizzy from having his body suddenly lifted off the ground, right before he was hit by a passing car. He watches you let go of your web, cutting the natural fluid from your wrist. Your costume itself is already eye-catching enough even without the web—black on the lower body with a white upper body, complete with a hoodie and cyan soles. The underarms and inside the hoodie are magenta covered in cyan web patterns, while your lenses are white with magenta accents.

His mother embraces her child, smiling in gratitude with tears lining her cheeks. “Thank you,” she says. “For saving my son’s life.”

“You’re very welcome, Ma’am.” Your mouth twitches in a smile, even if it’s not going to show on your mask. Smiling has always come naturally to you. It’s harder not to smile than to do it. Offering him a fist bump, you say, “Stay off the street, Spidey.”

He knocks his little fist against yours, grinning at you. Ruffling his curly hair, you turn on your heels, ready to shoot your web to swing yourself from one building to another.

“Wait,” his mother calls right before you lift yourself off the ground. “Who are you?”

“Well, Ma'am,” you perform a little bow, being theatrical is a part of your job. “I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Girl.”

***

Hi, everyone! I'm back with a new mini series this time! This one is going to be all fluff with a sprinkle of comedy and smut (no angst, I promise lmao). I've decided to post early 'cause I couldn't wait to share this story with you hehe. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it ❤️

Thank you Sandra, Nissa and Ben for being my beta-readers for this one. I love you, guys! Oh, also, I've decided to go with Spider-Gwen's costume 'cause I think it's cute but you're welcome to imagine a different outfit for y/n.

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @the-princess-button @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza Thanks for reading, lovelies ❤️

Banner Art: @_sonagee on Twitter

i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden

or, the one where eren shows you a love you’ve always deserved while mikasa has to watch from the sidelines.

pairing: eren jaeger x reader, (past) porco galliard x reader, (unrequited) mikasa ackerman x eren jaeger

series warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of a miscarriage, smut, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex (pls practice safe sex besties), choking, spit kink, cum eating, cum play, general rough sex, unrequited love, mentions of cheating, mentions of betrayal, jealousy, more to be added.

authors note: i am so so sooo excited to be writing this fic! please keep in mind that some characters may seem ooc cannon wise, but this is still just purely a work of fiction. the series warnings are just general warnings, and more will be added as the series progresses, but please be sure to read each chapter warning. there will also be a few more pairings added as the series progresses, but i don’t want to spoil anything too soon ;). any and all feedback is always appreciated, as well as likes and reblogs! i also do have a tag list that is open at the moment!!

Keep reading

character: miya atsumu words: 600+ tags: fluff. female reader. notes: this is really all @augustinewrites​​’ fault

“hey,” atsumu’s familiar voice says, but it’s odd. the words are low and menacing, and you’ve never heard him this threatening in the months that you’ve been dating. 

it makes you freeze in your tracks, halfway through the kitchen from the living room, the objective of getting a drink for your date forgotten.

he speaks again. “i’ve had just about enough of you." 

what? you turn back to look at the doorway to the living room. did you do something?

"i know what you’re doing,” atsumu says in a hiss, and you try to rack your brain for explanations. who’s he talking to? is he on the phone?

you hear a growl, and an unmistakable feline hiss. your eyes widen when you realize he’s talking to your cat.

Keep reading

thank you @posthumoushumor for suggesting this 🥰

gojo thinks his kid might be broken.

(which is totally toji's fault, by the way. surely it couldn't be something he's done, because he's been laying on the couch ignoring the laundry since you'd headed out to the school to meet with shoko.)

but megumi’s walked in and out of the living room six times in the past 45 minutes. he looks around a bit, and when his eyes land on gojo, the six year old just sighs and walks back into his room.

he’s not sure whether he should be more offended or confused. six eyes grant him a lot of abilities, but apparently does not grant him the ability to comprehend the intentions of a literal child.

now the brat’s lingering in the hall, and this time gojo slides his shades down, watching a little more closely to try and figure out what the kid’s after.

megumi looks around the room, then to the front door, then the clock on the wall.

he’s waiting for you to come home.

gojo's no longer confused and is simply offended. what herculean task could a six year old request to you and not him? he's the strongest for a reason, what could you do that he couldn't?

"hey, what's wrong with you?" he asks, sitting up and looking the brat in the eye to assert dominance.

"nothing," he mumbles, but instead of turning back around, he looks to the door again. "when is..."

"won't be home for a couple hours," gojo tells him. "what's up? you want a snack? maybe some dino nuggets and a juice box?"

"i'm six," the child the size of a five year old growls. "i don't like dinosaur nuggets and i don't want juice."

gojo scratches his head. what else did a growing child need? "do you...want to take a nap?"

megumi just rolls his eyes at him - the audacity - muttering, "never mind," and trudging back into his room.

it's an hour later when he's digging through the fridge for some lunch when megumi makes his reappearance. it's almost like a scene out of a horror movie, because when gojo closes the fridge, he has a minor heart attack when he sees the brat's standing there.

"fuck!" he shouts, fumbling with the juice box he's holding as megumi points at the swear jar on the counter. "jeez, you're just as sneaky as your da--"

megumi cocks his head, and gojo quickly backtracks. best not open that can of worms. "well, what do you want now? need help wiping?"

how a six year old can look that unimpressed, gojo isn't sure.

but the kid quickly diverts his gaze to his feet, muttering an almost imperceptible, "i need...help."

megumi opens his mouth a little, poking at one of his bottom teeth. it wiggles in place, and, oh.

he has a loose tooth. his first one, by the looks of it.

"is that what you were so worried about?" gojo chuckles, taking the kid's jaw and poking at the tooth himself. "don't worry, it'll fall out on its own and you'll have a new big kid chomper to replace it."

megumi wiggles out of his grasp, pouting a little. "but i want it out now. 's annoying."

"okay," gojo shrugs, cracking his knuckles. "c'mere then i'll knock it out."

for once, the brat looks something other than annoyed as he shouts a horrified, "no!"

"why not? i thought you wanted it out? oh, wait! do you think you could let me try to knock it out with cursed energy? it'll be great to see how pinpoint my aim is. just don't move, this'll either be really cool or will give you a nasty scar."

maybe it's smart that megumi clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head. you'd surely give him an earful if you came home to a child missing all his teeth.

"fine," he sighs, rubbing his temple. "guess we're going to have to do this the traditional way."

-

mouth hanging open, megumi stares at him warily. "is this really going to work?"

"i think so," gojo hums thoughtfully, tying the other end of the string to the doorknob. he'd asked nanami what to do, and he'd sent him a link to an article on at-home methods, suggesting the first one.

1. tell your child to keep pushing it with their tongue

but that was boring, so he'd skipped to the end where he'd seen a joke about the old door and string method.

much more fun.

"you ready?" he asks, grinning when he nods. "okay, keep your mouth open and try not to yell too loud. i'll go on three, okay?"

a nod.

"one, two—”

gojo slams the door shut before three. it’s the element of surprise.

megumi shouts, the tooth flies out of his mouth, and his shadow jumps.

"holy shit!" gojo cheers as megumi glares, mumbling 'jar.' "that was your cursed energy! make the sign you guys practiced! the dog one!"

the brat is still glaring as if he wasn't the one who asked for his help, (a horrible decision, really) but huffs and makes the hand sign to summon his shikigami.

and sure enough, a little black puppy materializes out of his shadow. it blinks up at them, looking more like an angel than a demon dog with one ear flopped down.

that is until he hears megumi whisper a little, "go," and nod his head in gojo's direction.

the angelic looking demon pup growls once in warning before baring it's teeth and pouncing at gojo's ankles.

gojo learns the hard way that a puppy's baby teeth are sharp as hell.

-

"you couldn't have just...pulled it out?" you ask gojo, a glowering megumi seated in the living room stroking at the fur of the puppy still in his lap.

it'd been quite the sight to come home to, your boyfriend being nipped at by a growling puppy and megumi coming up to you holding a tooth, with a thin trail of blood dripping down his chin.

"that's so boring though," he groans, wincing when you rub some antiseptic on the wound. "at least i got the tooth out! aren't you proud? i basically parented!"

"he was bleeding when i got home," you say flatly. "and so were you." you wrap a clean bandage around his ankle, tying it off and holding your hand out. "now go get your wallet."

"what? why?"

"because someone's getting a visit from the tooth fairy tonight, and since you pulled the tooth out..."

Touch Me, Baby | One Shot

Eren Jaeger x Shy!Reader, Fem!Reader

Content: Friends to Lovers :), fluff, smut

Warnings: Dry humping, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, slight breeding kink, 18+, MINORS DNI

Summary: Simple crushes are harmless, at least that’s what Eren thought. He was flattered by the readers unrequited crush on him. But suddenly, during a night out with friends, Eren realizes that maybe the roles had been reversed the entire time.

A/N: hsdjkfsd I’m so excited that Valentine’s Day is finally here!!! I worked on this for like two weeks so I hope you guys enjoyyyyy! (I also hope that this makes up for not updating LTN on time 😩😩) HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH :)) oh omg also I do NOT own the song used in this fic, it is used solely as a plot device! (It’s been a while since i did that :“) hehe)

Song Used: Honey, Honey - ABBA (as performed by Amanda Seyfried)

Keep reading

18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni. 18+ minors dni.

tendou x f!reader, kinda fwb to lovers, idk squirting brings ppl together, it's a little silly at the end, enjoy.

warnings: squirting, creampie, overstim (m&f)

"Hold your legs for me, baby." He grunted into the crook of your neck, pushing himself up by your thighs. You hooked your arms under the crooks of your knees, spreading yourself wider for Tendou to drool over. He rolled his eyes back, only opening them again to focus on the way his cock was gliding into you so easily. With his hands now free, he brought one up to his mouth, unceremoniously spreading his spit against his fingertips before gently rubbing small circles around your clit. You mewled at the new sensation, sending tingles throughout your core as the high you were riding began building faster.

"'Tori, 'm gonna, fuck. You're gonna make me cum," You hid your face behind your hands, feeling the skin of your neck begin to heat up until it burned all the way to your cheeks. It was embarrassing, how easily he got you to fall apart. You were like dough, pliant beneath his skilled fingers and willing to mould yourself around his cock whenever he called and said that he needed you.

His free hand wrapped around your wrists, pulling your hands down and pinning them against your stomach. He smiled at you, never slowing his thrusts or the way his fingers danced across your too-sensitive clit.

"Who are you hiding from? You know I like to see the face you make when you finally cream on my dick."

His words were so vulgar, they made your head spin every time he talked like this, but you couldn't help clench at the way they made you feel. He pulled out, until just the tip was left inside of you, and licked his lips at the sight of his cockhead spreading your pussy open so wide. It was downright sinful the way he slammed back into you so harshly, laughing at the way you yelped when his balls slapped against your ass. He did it again, just to see your reaction but was met with something even sweeter the second time.

He knew what was going on before even you did, and he wished he could've captured the look on your face once you'd realised to cherish forever. His hips stilled, with his cock still stuffing you to the hilt as he smiled down at you. Your brows were pulled together in worry, one hand clasped over your mouth like you were horrified.

"S-Satori," your voice was meek, raspy from the moans he was pulling from you for the last hour or so. It was no surprise that your body had been pushed to this point, bullied into orgasm after orgasm by the relentless drive that Tendou had to make you feel incredible.

"You just squirted, didn't you, angel?" His tone was playful, riding the line of condescension as he leaned down, pulling your hand away from your face again. He pressed a hungry kiss against your lips, pulling back only enough to speak clearly. "'s it feel that good when I'm fucking you?"

He grabbed you by the back of the neck, pulling you up to look at your cunt as he began fucking you again. His pelvis was gleaming and wet, covered in your arousal that began leaking out as his thrusts became faster again.

"Look at that mess you made, squirted all over my cock like the good girl you are, huh?" He laughed at you when you nodded, feeling pride swell in his chest at the way you moaned his name so prettily. "How 'bout I cum inside you, hm? Make an even bigger mess of this pretty pussy, you want that?"

You nodded vigorously, preaching yes, please, like they were the only words you knew. He gripped the fat of your thighs, digging his fingers into your skin until it dimpled under his touch as he hammered into you, feeling your walls tighten around him again as you sung his name, letting your head fall back against the pillows as the stimulation became too much. He came with a loud groan, emptying his balls inside of you while fucking you through his own orgasm. His cum rolled down the curve of your ass when he pulled out, sending a shiver down your spine.

Ever insatiable, Tendou continued rocking his hips against your own, grinding his cock against the puffy lips of your pussy, starry-eyed as he watched himself spread his cum against your skin. You shuddered when the head of his dick bumped messily against your clit, and your hands pushed away his hips.

"Can't handle anymore, 'm sorry–"

He chuckled, flopping beside you and using one arm to roll you into his side. He pressed a kiss against your hairline before speaking.

"Don't say you're sorry, I'm just being greedy. I can't get enough of you."

You shifted your thighs, feeling them stick together uncomfortably before laughing under your breath. Tendou placed a hand under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "What's so funny?"

"I'm embarrassed. I've never, you know... Done, that."

"Squirted?"

You smacked his chest, turning your head away from him again. "Tendou!"

He laughed, boisterous and loud, pulling you back against him with a strength that wouldn't allow you to get away from him even if you wanted. "Don't go formal on me now, I just made you squirt for the first time ever. You don't have to call me Tendou anymore, besides, you always call me 'Tori when we're fucking."

"You know, you really have a way with words," you grumbled, laying your head against his chest. "I don't know why you're so amazed, you probably make girls... squirt, all the time."

"Nuh-uh, never have I ever. You're my first little squirt gun."

You rolled your eyes, "I can't stand you."

He stretched his arms out, beaming smile spread wide across his face. "You'd better learn to, I'm not goin' anywhere. My days as a bachelor are over, you're my girl now."

You hid your smile by tucking your chin into the crook of his neck, pressing small kisses against his skin to hear him hum in delight. "Yeah, whatever. Can you get me a towel please?"

He sat up, smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, kneading the fat of your tits with a content sigh before pushing himself off the bed. When he was making his way out of the room, he called over his shoulder, "I'd love to get a towel for you! My girlfriend! The squirter!"

tendou would 100% always make u laugh after sex. my silly little clown. the fire in my loins. i would die for him.

boyfriend!suna 

suna x f!reader ; minors do not interact | unedited

crush!sunarin | tattoo!sunarin | … 

Boyfriend!sunarin that automatically walks on the part of the sidewalk that is closer to the street. It’s not that you can’t take care of yourself, it’s just his instinct to walk right of you because that’s what his mom taught him — especially when walking back home from school with his sister. 

Boyfriend!sunarin is and will forever be the cuddle bug in the relationship. Once youre in his arms, it’s dangerous — you won’t be able to pry him off of you anytime soon. Especially if he had a long taxing day, or he just feel drained from being around people, he’ll pull you in his arms, mumbling something short as he placed soft kisses to your neck, 

“Need to recharge a bit.” 

Boyfriend!sunarin that just wants his kisses. If you needed him to do something, always in response he’ll ask, “if you give me kiss,” as he pointed to his lips. But when you looked at him back with a brow raised just wanting to get the work done, he’ll raise his hands in a playful manner and ask once more, “fine just one on my cheek.” And when you go in, trusting that he’ll stay still… he ends up quickly turning his head causing your lips to touch for a short kiss. 

Boyfriend!sunarin that loves to sleep and often time wakes up after you… you will never know that he in fact always wakes up before you. He wakes up a hour before your usual time, to check up on you in his arms, to brush his fingers across your skin, to softly chuckle if he heard you snoring or had a bit of drool leaving the edges of your lips, to hold you close and admire all that you are with a faint tired smile, 

“what am I gonna do with you , hmm?”

Keep reading

You wake up slowly. 

So slowly, in fact, that when your eyes are finally fully open, it’s hard to tell if you’re really awake after all. Everything feels soft and out of focus and floaty - and even though you’re sure you weren’t conscious till a moment ago, it seems like you're…. Moving? 

You blink, trying to get your eyes to focus, to clear your brain of the cotton that clings to it with a stubbornness that would certainly alarm you if you could summon such depths of emotion. Instead, you feel only a vague sense of confusion. The world around you smears together in flashes of color and light, and you suddenly become aware that there is a shape moving above you. 

It moves rhythmically, with purpose. At one particularly rapid, jerky movement, you feel your eyes flutter shut for a moment, and hear a groan that, after a second to think about it, you’re sure must have come from you. 

The figure pauses, and you think you can just make out a face looking down at you, smiling kindly. You smile back automatically, and at that, the figure laughs, a low, deep rumble in their chest that doesn’t sound nearly as kind as you thought it might. You think it says something, but you can’t really make out what, and before long it’s back to shifting back and forth above you.

You realize, somewhere in the back of your mind, that you seem to be moving again as well. It also seems like you're… Lying on your back? You frown briefly, struggling to grasp the significance of these thoughts. Before you can puzzle it out, you find that another figure has come into view by your head. 

With little warning, something is touching your lips urgently, and you murmur sleepily, shaking your head slightly in an attempt to rouse yourself. The figure says something gruffly, and you feel pressure on your neck, cutting off your air. After a very long couple of moments, you’re released, and you gasp for air, only to be quickly choked off again by something velvety and hard being shoved into your now open mouth.

You let out a pitiful whine, and suddenly all your focus is on breathing in and out through your nose. Your eyes squeeze shut, tears leaking down your face, and you forget all about the other figure above you, every thought devoted to your next breath of air. You’re not sure how long it goes on this way - maybe minutes, maybe hours - but eventually the shape in your mouth is shoved in deep, deep into your throat, and your eyes fly open as your breath is cut off completely. Something hot and wet is sliding down your throat, and the thing in your mouth pulses in time. You have no choice but to swallow it all. 

At last, the thing in your mouth pops free, and you cough and gasp for air. You have the notion that you should get up, fight back, but none of your limbs listen. Your legs feel particularly odd, splayed wide on either side of you, held down and apart by… Something. With your air supply back to normal, you turn your attention back to the first figure - they’re moving more rapidly now, and it’s with growing dread that you finally notice the dull ache between your legs - the feeling of fullness that comes with each thrust. 

Your eyes widen and, for the first time, you look down at yourself. You’re naked, and you see bruises littered across your skin. Milky liquid covers various parts of your body, and the figure above you thrusts a huge cock in and out of your hole, grinning down at you as he holds your legs apart with large, bruising hands. At last, the fear comes, as whatever drug you must have been given begins to work it’s way out of your system. 

You stammer and beg, interspersed with gasps and moans, but he doesn’t stop until, perhaps driven on by your pleas, he pushes himself deep inside you one last time and cums hard, grunting with the effort. You cry out, but you still feel your body tense up in an answering orgasm, no matter how hard you try to fight it off. 

Finally, he pulls out and away, and you feel his cum running down your thighs. You think it must be over, but in the next breath, another person has stepped in to take his place between your legs. The night is far from finished.

take these haikyuu boys with you to laser tag and he’ll push you against the wall, kiss you, shoot you, and then walk away <3

  —  suna, ATSUMU, OIKAWA, suga, tsukishima, TENDOU

[ 18:39 ]

“IS THAT A BLUSH I SEE?”

your best friend narrows his eyes at you, leaning back against his chair while you rock your legs back and forth as you sit on the railing of the balcony.

“no, you’re just blind,” he denies, and rolls his eyes as he hears your timely giggle. “and drunk.”

SUNA takes another swig of beer from the bottle, carefully eyeing you, your deep-set grin stuck on your face since minutes ago when you decided to join him to get some air. inside the hotel suite, the other guys are still arguing with each other on what to do the next day—atsumu and aran set on going to the amusement park while osamu and gin apparently prefer a relaxing day at the beach. kita is just silently sitting at the side, scrolling through his messages.

“don’t lie, rin,” you challenge, left hand reaching out and index finger pointing straight at him. “you totally think i’m fucking hot now.”

he sighs. “you probably need to get your head out of your ass.” while it may be true—he hasn’t seen you since high school graduation, which was an entire five years ago—suna can’t quite get the words out, god knows why.

“and you probably need to just admit it already.”

suna feels his heart pounding faster in his chest. what the fuck kind of effect do you have on him that it causes him to feel weird? he doesn’t remember ever thinking of you like this back in high school, so why now? why does he feel like grabbing your waist and pulling you close? why does he feel like planting his lips onto yours just to get a taste of you? you’re best friends—so why?

he blames it on the alcohol. he sets the beer bottle down on the ground beside his chair before reaching a hand out to grab yours, grip firm around your wrist (partly because he’s afraid you’d fucking fall to your death, but also mostly because he just wants to hold you). “hm, what’s this i hear? want my praise, pretty baby?”

with a quick flick of his wrist, he has you off the railing and in between his legs, your hands catching hold of the back of the chair for balance. your faces are barely inches away from each other, both of you too caught up at looking into each other’s eyes to notice the intoxicating smell of alcohol that surrounds you.

and while he’d love to savour this moment; the way you’re paralysed with nervousness, the way your breathing is getting shallow, the way your gaze is dropping to his goddamn lips—you don’t give him the chance. your hands find the back of his neck and your lips capture his, body melding into his touch, his hands on your ass as you make yourself comfortable on his lap.

“what’re we doing?” you gasp in between kisses, question hanging in the air but neither of you making any attempt at stopping.

“i don’t know,” suna mumbles, big rough hands squeezing your ass and making you grind against his thighs, and he smirks. “thought you were the one who told me you weren’t gonna be one of ‘my girls’.”

he just knows you’re embarrassed right now, as you always get when he brings up old memories. you’d for sure heard the rumours about him back in high school. sure, you’d found out they were all baseless, especially the part where he was labeled a ‘fuckboy’, but you did make sure to tell him beforehand that you weren’t going to fall for it anyway.

“thanks, rin,” you had said after he threw a passing compliment your way back in junior year. “but i’m not gonna be one of your ‘girls’, so don’t fall in love with me, ‘kay?”

he had rolled his eyes. “want me to pinky promise you or something?”

and so you both hooked pinkies in a promise.

“shut up, rin.” the both of you are still hot in the middle of making out, and he’s not sure if you’re saying that out of embarrassment or out of the lack of ability on your part to multitask.

he still doesn’t shut up though. he pulls away from you briefly, both of you trying to catch your breaths, suna admiring what he can of your kiss-swollen lips.

“remember what you made me promise back then?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, a breathy ‘yes’ leaving your lips.

“i think i might’ve broken it.”

𝙒𝙀𝙇𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙀 • 𝙒𝙊𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿 •

kinktober event!

alice is dead. now it's your

turn to fall down the

rabbit hole.

𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙠𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙨 𝘼𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙄𝙣 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨

With a twist.

《drink me》

a cup of tea the mad hatter offers you. tendou satori x reader

~

《drink me》

a suspicious looking liquid that's on a table with nothing other than a golden pocket watch. Kita Shinsuke x reader

~

《drink me》

a sip of queen / king of hearts' favorite rose tea. oikawa tooru x reader.

~

《inhale me》

a cloud of smoke the caterpillar blows on your face. he asks you if you want any- it'll make you feel good, he promises. suna rintarou x reader

~

《eat me》

a piece of candy the Cheshire Cat drops for you out of thin air. kuroo tetsurou x reader.

~

《drink me》

tweedledum and tweedledee, the twins of the wonderland offer you a warm place to sleep. atsumu miya x reader x osamu miya

.

.

and more.

a/n: Haikyuu x Alice in wonderland! I'm damn excited for this, I hope yall like it too (if you have character recommendations, send em in!)

Each piece is going to be NSFW. so minors do NOT interact.

more characters will be added as I go! If you want to be tagged when I post the pieces, here's the taglist.

If you're in my general taglist, I'll still tag you even if you don't fill this up :p so if you'd like it otherwise dm me mwah

To support me or if you like my content: tip jar!

Pass the Baton (Akechi, Akira)

Kinktober 2021 Day Six: Threesome

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

Akira invited you over to study. That’s what he said. To study. So what did that have to do with Akechi-kun?

 To put it truthfully, they’ve been at each other’s throats since you’ve met them. Years ago.

 At first, you didn’t say anything. You were just some little first year that helped run the front desk at the Prince Detective’s Agency. He knew you because you knew his coffee order like the back of his hand. And you were the same little first-year who couldn’t help but pet every cat you saw Even if it just so happened to be the “mysterious delinquent transfer student’s” cat that he sneaks with him to school every day. Yet somehow, the pieces fell into place. They knew each other, and you knew them. And suddenly you all knew each other. But that didn’t exactly mean you all liked each other. 

 Or rather, that didn’t mean that they liked each other.

Keep reading

domesticity + peter parker :’)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝

pairing: hanamaki takahiro, iwaizumi hajime, matsukawa issei, oikawa tooru x f!reader

summary: one night was all it took for you to become the resident stress-reliever for the infamous athletes of your university.

genre: smut, college au

warnings: 18+. seijoh four as sleazy college boys, objectification, dacryphilia, gangbang, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, dirty talk, spit-roasting, double penetration, anal, ass play, degradation, praise, hair pulling, slight size kink, spanking, slight face-slapping, oral (m and slight f receiving), facial, face-fucking, creampie, cumplay, cum eating, squirting, spitting, nipple play, dumbification, overstimulation, slight matsuhana action

word count: 3.5k

author's note: the long awaited sequel to checkmate (go read it if you want to be fully immersed/have an idea of what this nasty thing is about or not cause this is literally just pawrn HHH) but yeah here's a gangbang with seijoh 4 <3 (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

no beta cause we go down swinging !

[10:34 PM]

it would definitely be a lie if you said you had no idea how this entire debauchery started because deep down, you knew exactly what was going to happen when oikawa invited you to ‘do the project’ in his luxurious apartment off-campus.

but what you really didn’t expect is that his best friends would be involved in the party. if you knew, you would’ve probably told oikawa to fuck off and do the project on your own, or so you’d like to tell yourself.

what was supposed to be a gruesome school project turned into a cliché plot for a porno.

“iwa-chan, i feel like—f-fuck—you’re angrier a-at her than i am,” oikawa hisses through gritted teeth, his abs clenching when his cock hits the back of your throat because of iwaizumi’s harsh thrusts.

“gotta teach this bitch a lesson,” iwaizumi growls, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he pushes your back in a deeper arch. one large and rough hand comes down on your swelling ass and you moan unabashedly, though it’s muffled thanks to oikawa’s dick in your mouth.

the pretty setter isn’t even moving his hips anymore because the force of his best friend’s thrusts is enough to push you towards his hips. he’s got both of his hands in your hair, his lithe fingers tugging on your roots as he smirks down at you with glossy eyes.

“hear that, pretty? iwa-chan’s mad at you for being such a naughty brat,” oikawa chuckles in between his moans, slightly slapping your hollowed cheeks to keep your teary eyes trained on him.

on a normal night, oikawa would already be passed out from the multiple orgasms he’s had, but your presence in his personal space—where he has envisioned the position you’re in more times than he can count—flipped a switch inside him.

you guys had a thirty-minute break before resuming your activities. despite the halt in momentum, the adrenaline in his veins is pumping, even rivaling his energy and stamina when he’s playing a close and intense game.

you’re so messy—mascara staining your face, running down your cheeks as you look up at him with your lips obscenely stretched around his dick. it turns him on so much, watching your usually venomous mouth get fucked by his cock. coupled with the vibrations of your whines and whimpers, oikawa can't help but thrust at the same time as iwaizumi.

a garbled squeal erupts from your throat and the two other occupants of the room groan in unison as they lazily stroke their cocks. the sight of you choking and gagging with copious amounts of saliva and cum dripping from your stretched mouth has mattsun and makki shuddering in pleasure as their hooded eyes watch you get fucked by their best friends.

“never knew it’d be this hot watching her get fucked like a whore,” makki groans, throwing his head back as he tugs on his cock. “dude, she’s been practically begging to be put in her place ever since she gave iwaizumi the evil eyes,” mattsun hisses, one hand working on his shaft while the other plays with his heavy balls.

“besides, look at her,” he nods to you, lips curling into a sinister smirk as he watches your hips not-so-subtly roll and meet iwaizumi’s brutal thrusts. “the slut’s clearly enjoying it.”

mattsun’s observation of your traitorous body has you clenching and fluttering around iwaizumi, causing him to curse as his hips lose their rhythm. his dark eyes flash, his large and rough hand coming down to slap your ass again.

“you like getting called names, huh? fucking dirty bitch.”

the roughness of his voice and perfectly angled thrust to that spongy spot inside your velvety walls make you whine around oikawa’s cock, causing the brunette moan as he throws his head back, abs clenching as he feels his impending orgasm ripple through his body.

“god, this pussy is still so tight even after getting fucked multiple times,” iwaizumi hisses through gritted teeth, the veins on his neck clearly defined as he feels droplets of sweat roll down the column of his throat. “shit, i’m gonna cum.”

oikawa hums in agreement, his adam’s apple bobbing as he freely takes hold of your hair, fingers digging in your scalp as he pushes his cock further into your mouth. his brown eyes are hooded and glossy as he looks down on your teary and red ones, his pink lips parted as he heavily pants through them.

“i’m gonna cum on your face, pretty girl. brand you with my cum—oh yes,” oikawa moans as he feels your tongue wriggle along his shaft, your shaky hands gripping his ass when your chin bumps his balls. iwaizumi groans loudly behind you, and it has you—and even the other three men—shiver with how purely masculine he sounds.

“take it all, cockslut,” iwaizumi grunts, his hands gripping your hips so tight that it’ll leave bruises, threatening to even cover the ones oikawa planted on you at the beginning of the night. he throws his head back just as his balls tighten, thrusts becoming erratic and when you consciously clench your pussy around his thick length—he can’t help but groan your name along with other colorful words that has your aching cheeks heating up.

sensing that iwaizumi is filling you with his cum, oikawa pulls his cock out of your mouth and for the nth time this night, you gasp and choke, finally feeling oxygen properly go down your lungs. your celebration is short-lived, however, because oikawa still has one hand tangled in your strands, keeping your head in place while the other is rapidly stroking his shaft.

he whines your name just as hot ropes of his cum splatter on your face, his mouth parted in a gasp as he watches you close your eyes just in time. you feel his hot and sticky release coat your cheeks, mouth dropping into a whine when you feel iwaizumi’s quick and short thrusts in your battered pussy, your stained cheeks burning when you feel the warm trails of your mixed juices run down on the inside of your thighs.

oikawa takes the tip of his cock and smears the strings of his cum with the messy black lines of your ruined mascara, groaning at the sight of your face branded with your drool and his essence. mattsun and makki are breathing as heavily as the three of you on the bed, their thighs, stomachs, and fingers coated with their release as they watch iwaizumi slap your ass one last time, earning a high-pitched yelp from you as he pulls out with a wet and loud pop that has them groaning with how lewd it sounds.

the sounds of breathing and gentle whining are all that’s heard throughout the hazy and stuffy room. you’re practically flat on the bed, boneless with how spent you feel and you can’t even move away from iwaizumi’s thick fingers as he spreads the mess of your juices all along the back of your thighs.

oikawa looks to his couch, his sweaty chest heaving as he chuckles when he sees the excitement and anticipation in mattsun and makki’s eyes. he whistles to iwaizumi who’s still torturing you with his fingers to give way to their other friends that are eagerly waiting for their turn to have a go at you.

“it’s our turn now,” makki says with an airy tone as he laughs while giving oikawa a high five, uncaring of the way they’re all naked. it’s not like they haven’t seen and played with each other’s bits before. when makki reaches his scowling vice-captain to also give him a high five, iwaizumi just pointedly stares at his hand streaked with remnants of his cum.

mattsun snorts in amusement, hand poised to slap iwaizumi’s bare and firm ass until the latter growls at him threateningly, dark eyes narrowed into slits, causing mattsun to quickly shuffle on the drenched and messy bed, cooing at you with faux concern in his eyes as he maneuvers your limp body.

he settles his back on the headboard, with makki joining a few seconds later after he successfully dodged iwaizumi’s punch to the gut. makki makes his way behind you, his lean chest pressing against your sweaty back as he widens your stance so that your messy cunt is directly above mattsun’s impressive length.

if you thought that iwaizumi’s cock was already a bitch to take, then mattsun’s will give you other things to worry about.

you brace yourself on the shoulders of the smirking man in front of you, whining when they each take handfuls of your bruised ass. their fingers expertly knead the warm skin before they pull and let go, watching in amusement while your ass cheeks jiggle from their ministrations.

“you know,” makki quips, his fingers lazily spreading your folds as he plays with the cum leaking from your pussy, groaning when he sees a thick globule of white land on the tip of mattsun’s reddened and angry cockhead. “i always have to fuck the girl first before issei does, prepping her for his horsecock and all,” makki chuckles as he bites your ear, then licks it as he hears you yelp in surprise.

mattsun chuckles along with him, his hands reaching out and cupping your tits in his warm palms. “but i don’t have to do it with you since those two over there already stretched your cute and slutty pussy.” makki gestures to the men lounging on the plush couch of the room.

“so i’ll just fuck your ass instead.”

mattsun groans at makki’s statement, tilting his head as he lazily strokes himself. his eyes are hooded as he watches your shocked expression at the way his cock is leaking so much pre-cum. “like what you see?” he rasps, thumb smearing the pearly white drop all over his tip.

“ever had your ass fucked, doll?” makki whispers against the column of your throat, nipping the junction where your neck and shoulder meet while he slaps your ass with both of his hands.

you shake your head, too hesitant to speak because the taste and feel of oikawa’s cum down your throat is still fresh, still raw from his face-fucking. you wince as you feel his cum drying on your face, unable to wipe it off because there’s no space for movement between them and you have a feeling that oikawa will just ruin your face again for his own malicious benefit if you dare try to remove his branding.

“no? you’re in luck, then. i heard i’m the best ass fucker on campus. just ask issei.” makki winks at the said man and mattsun flips him off, grumbling under his breath at the proclamation. makki chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes while he shuts himself up by focusing on your neck, leaving marks and trails of saliva as he does so.

you whine as you arch your back, breasts shaking as mattsun plays with your hardened nipple. he speaks up, and you’ve come to the realization that these two are talkative compared to the other duo lounging on the couch.

“even if oikawa and iwaizumi didn’t stretch your pussy, i think you can take my cock, sweetheart. you just have that look.” look of a whore, he wants to say, but you already know that—pretending that you’re not like the other girls but in the end, you want to be used and fucked by the four of them. well, you just got your wish.

“yeah, this pussy is made to take cocks as big and fat as mine. look at you,” he says in awe while looking at his three thick fingers snugly fitting inside your cunt. you moan as you bite your lips, eyes fluttering when you feel makki’s hard cock resting in between your ass.

your grip on mattsun’s shoulders tightens as his thumb presses on your clit, making you arch your back while makki’s hands cup your tits as he squeezes and rolls the soft flesh in his grip. mattsun watches in fascination as the essence of his other best friend coats his fingers as he curls them in your velvety walls.

“fuck, you really are the perfect cumdump.”

“the two of you are so fucking chatty, get a fucking move on.”

“mmm, we like it when you order us around, iwa.”

iwaizumi growls at makki’s teasing, willing himself not to beat the strawberry blonde into a pulp. makki blows him a kiss before focusing on your trembling body, he dips his fingers down to your messy cunt, clashing with mattsun’s as he drags the thick and sticky cum up to your puckered hole.

“iwa’s cum is still so warm, sweetheart. bet it feels like heaven to be buried in your cunt,” he whispers in your ear, nipping on the soft cartilage as his fingertips circle and prod at your slightly stretched hole.

earlier on in the night, oikawa promised that he would claim every part of you, and that included your ass so while you were taking your supposed “break”, his two fingers were knuckle deep inside your ass while he carried a normal conversation with his friends—as if you weren’t squirming and begging him to do something.

so you know that it’s unnecessary for makki to thoroughly prep you, the sly bastard just wants to play with your ass.

mattsun pulls his fingers out of your pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of stimulation while he just winks, making a show of putting them in his mouth and sucking them clean while he watches you whimper from makki’s fingers in your ass.

oikawa and iwaizumi take a deep breath at the display, knowing fully well that those two are fucking nasty and kinkier than they are. but it’s ten times hotter when you are the one sandwiched between their wilder friends.

“just fuck her already,” oikawa whines, his cock twitching in his hand. iwaizumi grunts in agreement, his stony gaze searing into them as they laugh before adjusting the angle of your body.

makki pulls his fingers out of your ass and takes hold of his lengthy cock as he taps it on your hole, saying something along the lines of knock knock before pushing it in.

“makki!”

mattsun uses your distraction to slip his own cock inside of your pussy, groaning when the heat of your cunt welcomes his tip nicely. your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you wider than the ones before him.

“yeah, look at you,” he hisses, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as your jaw drops from the way their dicks stretch your walls. “taking my cock so well.”

“you like how me and makki feel inside you, baby?” mattsun coos, and you nod helplessly, unable to give him a coherent answer because all that’s coming from your mouth are broken syllables of their name and tiny yes yes yes’s.

makki bottoms out in your ass and he moans your name, his fingers rolling and twisting your nipples as he nuzzles your neck. mattsun pulls the both of you closer until the only space between you is a hair’s breadth away, until your arms are tightly wrapped around his thick neck and your heavy pants are fanning his face.

“touch your clit for me,” he whispers against your lips. you obediently follow him, removing your arm around his neck as makki’s thrusts from behind jostle your body. your hand squeezes in between your sweaty bodies as you touch the bundle of nerves. “there you go, baby.”

you can’t help but moan into mattsun’s mouth just as you circle your fingers on your swollen clit, jerking at the added stimulation and making all three of you cry out.

mattsun isn’t even moving his hips, opting to let you and makki do the work as he sloppily kisses you, not caring that he can taste oikawa on your tongue. the way your velvety walls drag along the thickness of his cock has him dizzy. you’re so tight that it hurts, but it’s the good kind of hurt that has him squeezing your hips as he rolls them in tandem with makki’s thrusts.

makki tugs on your hair, pulling you away from mattsun as he tilts your head until you’re facing him. “open up, sweetheart,” he orders, voice strained while he maintains the rhythm of his thrusts. you don’t need to be told twice since your mouth is parted from all the sinful cries coming from your throat. he smirks slyly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he spits in your mouth.

you whine as you swallow without being told, and makki groans as he spanks your ass before going back to ravaging your neck, his breaths fanning your sensitive skin as he tells you what a good girl you are.

“fuck, i’m close.”

you whine when you hear mattsun’s raspy voice groaning in your ear, his hips jerking towards yours as he frantically chases his orgasm. “me too, shit,” makki hisses, his sweaty chest rubbing against your back as he pushes you closer to mattsun.

both boys reach for your throbbing clit at the same time, their trembling fingers tangling with each other as they make you reach your limit for the night.

“cum for us, sweetheart,” makki grunts in your ear, his hips loudly slapping against your ass. “cream all over my cock—fuck yes—your cunt’s squeezing me so tight,” mattsun groans, his other hand gripping your waist so tightly that there will be several hand-shaped bruises by the morning.

“gonna fill your pretty ass with my cum—oh fuck,” makki moans in your ear, his hot breath fanning the side of your face as you feel fat drops of tears leaving your eyes.

you’re way past the point of uttering intelligible words, the only thing all of the men in the room can make out are jumbled syllables of their names and a high-pitched f-fuck, gonna cum! your face is something that came directly from an adult rated film; your eyes are glazed over and crossed, tongue lolling out with drool dripping down your chin—there’s no doubt that the four of them have effectively reduced you into a mindless slut.

you’re so dizzy from the hazy and musky smell of sex in oikawa’s room  and with the fast circles from both mattsun and makki’s fingers that they’re subjecting your overstimulated clit to makes the knot in your stomach snap.

your orgasm hits you so hard that there are no words coming out of you, only a choked scream as your body stiffens for a few seconds before convulsing so much that you don’t even notice or feel the way clear liquid shoots out of your cunt and on to mattsun’s abdomen.

when both men see and feel you squirt, it triggers their own orgasms as well, causing them to thrust into you one last time before they loudly groan your name as they simultaneously fill your holes with thick and hot spurts of their cum, painting and coating your insides white as they breathe heavily.

the three of you are shaking and whimpering and your body gives out so you can’t stop yourself from falling on mattsun’s chest. They hiss when they hear their cocks slip out of you with an obscenely loud pop, causing everyone witnessing the mess to moan as their cum dribble out of your ass and pussy.

Makki lifts his lean body off of you, not crushing you between them anymore as he lifts your head and sloppily kisses you. he quickly tugs on mattsun’s hair and pushes his face towards yours and it’s just so messy.

the three-way kiss with the two of them consists of them licking each other’s tongues before they focus back on you. when they’re done fooling around, you immediately find yourself on your back with makki in between your legs, his bright eyes wide as he stares at the cum dribbling from your pussy.

oikawa, still as naked as the day he was born, walks up to your trembling and very overstimulated body as he smirks down at you, his fingers rubbing his dried cum on your face.

“down for this again, pretty?”

there’s a dopey smile on your lips but it quickly gets erased when you moan, feeling makki’s tongue slurping all the juices flowing out of your pussy, practically cleaning you up.

iwaizumi is leaning on the couch, his sweaty chest heaving as he smirks at your pathetic whines while your hands weakly push makki away from you. it’s futile because mattsun’s hand is buried in makki’s hair as he guides the strawberry blonde’s head in making an even bigger mess between your legs.

oikawa chuckles as he sits beside you again, lean arms crossed on his chest as he looks at your fucked out expression.

“that’ll teach her a lesson on disrespecting me,” iwaizumi spits, his dark eyes trained on you.

“excuse me? i’m the one she was the brat—”

“shut up, shittykawa.”

[12:15 AM]

extra help | gojo satoru

what’s a teacher to do when his student is building up so much cursed energy? help her get it under control, of course.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: smut, 18+ (minors dni), teacher/student relations (reader is of age), fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, unprotected sex (do not do this), lowkey corruption, squirting, exhibitionism (?), creampie, gojo refers to himself as “teacher” because i said so

note: barely edited, something to ease the brainrot. gojo satoru hollow me challenge. 

“Can you maybe, I don’t know, shut the fuck up?”

The jab spews out of your mouth before you can stop it. Your filter is long gone, the thoughts that pop into your head forming into verbal words without the chance to even process them. Once you hear it, you mentally slap yourself. Now you just look like an asshole.

“Jeez, no need to be a bitch about it,” mutters Nobara. She rests on the concrete steps on her elbows, appearing utterly disinterested with her head tossed back and eyes closed, soaking in the fresh air.

“I’m not being a bitch.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!”

“You kind of are,” Megumi says quietly, shrugging slightly when your incredulous expression finds his to be stoic and unmoving. He leans down to scratch behind one of his dog’s ears. His nonchalance boils your blood even further, effectively working you up past your melting point. A bitter laugh leaves your mouth.

“…You motherfucker-”

“Good morning, everybody!”

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scars. satoru gojo x reader.

You lean up on your elbow, unable to hold yourself back, pressing your lips to the small scar by his hairline. Silently thanking him for coming back from the dead.

Warnings: Explicit. Minors DNI. PWP. Mentions of injuries. Lots of talk about scars. Female reader. Oral (male receiving). Unprotected sex. Creampie. 

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