𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄 ˖ ࣪ ∗ ❀

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧! 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐨𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠/ 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫)

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 (╥╯^╰╥) 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐦𝐠.

Viktor had always been terrified of this moment. He could lecture for hours about the intricacies of hextech, dissect complex equations in his sleep, and manipulate delicate machinery with perfect precision. But this? This was an entirely different realm of knowledge—one he had never properly studied, never experienced.

And yet, here you were. Naked, warm, and soft beneath him, looking at him with so much love and want that it made his head spin. His heart pounded so violently against his ribs that he was sure you could hear it.

His fingers trembled as they traced the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight as if he were afraid you’d disappear. His golden eyes roamed your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the softness of your stomach, the way your legs were spread just for him.

“I—I do not know if I can do this properly,” he admitted, his voice breathless, shaky. “I do not want to disappoint you.”

You smiled, reaching up to cradle his face. “You won’t, baby,” you whispered, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. “We’ll go at your pace.”

His cock—hard and aching, flushed a deep, desperate red—throbbed against your thigh, leaking precum onto your skin. He twitched every time he shifted, overwhelmed by even the slightest friction. You hadn’t even touched him properly yet, and he was already panting, already trembling like a leaf.

Your hand slid down between your bodies, wrapping around the base of his cock, and Viktor whined.

A high, broken sound punched out of his chest, his hips jerking forward on instinct. His cock twitched violently in your grasp, so sensitive that just the slightest movement had him gasping.

“Oh—ohhh,” he choked out, forehead pressing against your shoulder as he struggled to hold himself together. “I—I do not—ahhh—”

You stroked him slowly, teasing his tip with your thumb, smearing his precum over the flushed head. He twitched again, another helpless little whimper spilling from his lips.

“Feels good, baby?” you cooed, kissing the side of his face.

Viktor could only nod frantically, breath coming in quick, desperate pants. “T-too good,” he admitted, his voice wrecked, almost pained with how much he needed more.

You guided him between your legs, his cock pressed against your soaked entrance. The moment he felt your slickness, his entire body shuddered, another whimper escaping him.

“You wanna be inside me, don’t you, Vik?” you whispered, voice dripping with sweetness, teasing.

He groaned, hips jerking forward on instinct. “Yes—yes, please,” he gasped. “I need—”

You lined him up and guided his cock forward, pressing his tip just barely inside your cunt. The sensation was immediate, electric—hot, wet, tight.

Viktor sobbed.

A loud, broken moan tore from his throat, his body convulsing as pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave. His fingers dug into your hips, his thighs shaking so hard you thought they might give out.

“Ohhh—ahhh—fuck—” His voice cracked, his body tensing. “It—it is too much—I cannot—”

“Shhh, baby,” you soothed, running your fingers through his damp curls. “Breathe for me.”

He gasped against your neck, struggling for control, but the heat of your cunt was unbearable. You were gripping him so perfectly, pulling him deeper, sucking him in, and he was so fucking sensitive.

His hips twitched, his cock sliding another inch inside, and he whined—high-pitched, desperate, needy. “Ohh—ohhh, I am going to—”

“Not yet, baby,” you cooed, gripping his waist, steadying him. “You can take it, I know you can.”

Viktor clenched his jaw, shaking as he pushed in deeper, inch by inch, his thighs trembling with effort. “I—it feels—” His breath hitched, another broken moan slipping out. “I do not—ahhh—”

You stroked his back, whispering soft reassurances. “You’re doing so good, baby. Just relax.”

He let out a shaky breath, finally burying himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing wildly, twitching like he was already on the edge. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes squeezed shut, his body tense with the effort of holding himself back.

And then you clenched around him—just a little, just enough to tease—

And Viktor broke.

“Ohhh—ohh, fuck—” His entire body spasmed, and before he could stop it, before he could even think, he was cumming.

Hard.

His hips jerked forward uncontrollably, burying himself even deeper as his cock throbbed violently inside you. A desperate, strangled sob tore from his throat as he spilled, hot spurts of cum flooding your cunt, painting your insides with thick, messy ropes.

He tried to keep moving, tried to fuck you through it, but his body betrayed him, his strength giving out as he collapsed against you, panting, trembling, his cock still twitching, still pulsing inside your warm heat.

“I—I did not mean to—” His voice was high, weak, breathless. “I—it was too much—”

You kissed the top of his head, still stroking his back, soothing him. “It’s okay, baby,” you murmured. “You did so good.”

Viktor groaned softly, still catching his breath, but when he shifted, when he felt the wetness between your thighs—his own cum spilling out, mixing with your slick—he whimpered.

“I can go again,” he mumbled, voice wrecked, needy. “Please—I need to—”

You smiled, already feeling his cock harden inside you again.

“Good,” you whispered, nipping at his jaw. “Because we’re not done yet.”

Viktor was still trembling, still trying to catch his breath, but his cock was already hardening inside you again, twitching with oversensitivity. His golden eyes were glassy, his curls damp with sweat, his face still flushed a deep, helpless red.

“I—I can do better,” he murmured against your skin, voice hoarse, wrecked. “I can—I can make you cum“

“You will make me cum, baby,” you whispered, kissing his temple, your fingers running through his curls, tugging gently at the roots. He whimpered at the sensation, his hips twitching instinctively, pushing deeper inside your still-soaked cunt.

He gasped, gripping your waist tighter, trying to keep himself steady. “Fuck—I do not know how.”

You smiled, shifting beneath him, grinding your hips up against him. He sobbed, his entire body jolting, his cock throbbing violently inside you.

“I’ll teach you, baby,” you cooed, wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him in place. “You’re gonna fuck me, and I’m gonna show you how to do it right.”

Viktor nodded frantically, desperate to please, to learn, to be good for you. He braced himself on shaking arms, his fingers digging into the sheets beside your head.

“Move, baby,” you urged, guiding his hips with your hands. “Slow at first.”

He let out a shuddering breath, pulling back slightly, his cock dragging against your soaked walls. The sensation made him whimper, his thighs shaking, his body instinctively wanting to rut deeper, faster—

But he listened.

He thrust forward again—slow, tentative, testing.

Then again.

“Ohhh—fuck—” His breath hitched, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “You are so—so tight—so warm—”

His rhythm was shaky, unsteady, but he was trying. His brow furrowed in concentration, his lips parted as he focused on the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock, the way you clenched around him, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room.

You kissed his jaw, whispering encouragements. “Just like that, baby. That’s so good. Give me more.”

His hips snapped forward, a little harder this time, and you moaned—really moaned.

Viktor’s eyes widened, his entire body jolting at the sound. His breath hitched, his cock throbbing at the realization that he had made you do that.

He wanted to hear it again.

He did it again.

Harder.

Your moan was louder this time, your fingers tightening in his hair, your nails dragging down his back. Viktor whined, his body shuddering as pleasure coiled tight in his stomach.

“Oh—ohhh,” he choked out, his hips moving faster now, more desperate, more eager. “You—you sound so perfect“

You clenched around him, and Viktor yelped, his rhythm faltering as he nearly came again right then and there.

You smiled against his neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his damp skin. “Faster, baby,” you urged. “Fuck me harder.”

Viktor groaned, dropping his forehead to your shoulder, his hips snapping into you, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the air. His cock was so thick inside you, stretching you perfectly, hitting deep with every messy thrust.

“Like—like this?” he gasped, voice high, desperate.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned, rolling your hips up to meet his. “Just like that. You feel so fucking good, Viktor.”

He let out a breathy, needy moan, his pace stuttering, his body already on the verge of unraveling. He was learning, but he was still so fucking sensitive, and every squeeze of your cunt made his eyes roll back, made him whimper and shake.

“I—I am—I cannot—” He let out a frantic little sob, his cock twitching violently inside you. “I will—ahhh—will not last—”

“You’re gonna make me cum first, baby,” you purred, reaching down to guide his hand to your clit. “Rub me right here—just like this.”

He obeyed immediately, his fingers moving in hesitant little circles. The moment he felt the way you jerked, the way your breath hitched, he whimpered, his cock twitching at the knowledge that he was finally making you feel good.

“Ohh—Gods” he gasped, rubbing faster, trying so hard to be perfect for you.

“Yes, baby, just like that—don’t stop—”

He didn’t.

His hips stuttered, his thrusts turning messy, frantic, desperate as he chased both your pleasure and his own. His whimpers became full-fledged whines, his body shaking, his fingers clumsy but eager as he worked your clit, his cock pounding into you so deep—

And then you clenched around him—

And Viktor lost his mind.

He sobbed, his entire body convulsing, his cock throbbing violently inside you. “I—I—ohhh, fuck—”

His hips faltered, and you took over, gripping his waist, forcing him to keep fucking you, forcing him deeper, faster.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you commanded, your voice tight, on the edge. “I’m almost there.”

Viktor whimpered, completely at your mercy, letting you use him, letting you take what you needed. His body was too weak, too fucked out to resist, his arms barely holding him up.

And then— “Fuck—Viktor—”

You came. Your walls squeezed him so tight, so wet, so perfect, and Viktor screamed, his hips jerking wildly as he came with you, his body locking up, his cum spilling deep inside you in thick, desperate ropes.

His vision blurred, his ears ringing, his mind blanking as waves of unbearable pleasure overtook him.

He barely registered himself whimpering, barely noticed how he collapsed onto you, his body completely boneless, his arms too weak to support himself.

All he knew was you.

Your arms wrapped around him, your fingers running through his damp hair, your lips pressing soft, soothing kisses to his temple.

“You did so good, baby,” you whispered, voice filled with love. “So good for me.”

Viktor sobbed softly against your skin, his entire body twitching, overstimulated, wrecked. “I—I can’t—” His words slurred together, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. “Too—too much—I—”

“Shhh,” you soothed, cradling him close, rocking him gently. “I’ve got you, baby. Just breathe.”

Viktor clung to you, whimpering, his cock still buried inside your fluttering cunt, his body completely spent.

And for the first time in his life, he felt truly, utterly satisfied.

safe to say i did bawl my eyes out after s2 ep2.

Don't know where I found this art, but I fucking love the parallels between Lucifer and Lilith, and, Alastor and Rosie

NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulder, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, she’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmful, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read this far, we're fucking making out.

jerking an exhausted nanami off from behind

“s’too much sweetheart— h-hah..” you’ve been overstimulating him for the past 30 minutes, your right hand covered in your husbands slick. he’s laying in between your legs, head resting in the crook of your neck as his hands latch firmly onto your plump thighs.

he had come home from work clearly frustrated with whatever went on inside his workplace, you just wanted to give him somethin’ to cool off after a hard day at work! “nuh uh.. s’not enough, you’re being soo good for me kennnn.” your free hand threads fingers through his silky hair as your sultry voice throws him for a loop. he truly underestimated how filthy his little wife was.

he’s planting delicate kisses on your neck while he’s huffing out shallow breaths, you continue to jerk his lengthy cock, milking whatever he has left inside of him. “f-fuck nngh m’gonna cum again- mmf,” he’s moaning out — pleading even, you’ve put a hand tightly over his mouth, silencing his loud moans. “yeah? you’re being so loudd.. heh- c’mon give it to me kentoo” you giggle, fisting his cock while his leaky tip oozes out beads of pre-cum.

his hands are gripping your thighs while he bucks his hips into your hand, chasing his orgasm. the room is filled with obscene noises and muffled moans, you move your hand from his mouth upwards to his eyes, blinding him. “mmngh- please p-please yeah.. d-don’t stop shiiit!” he groans, tilting his head back as the coil deep in his stomach unwravels.

your hand is jerking him up n down, squeezing him tightly. his cum is pouring out, dripping all over your hand as you focus your strokes onto his sensitive tip. “o. . . oh fuuuuck fuck fuck hnghh ah!” he whines while his cum flows out his slit in large spurts. he’s made a mess all throughout your hand, cum dripping down to his balls.

“feel better big boy..?” you giggle, removing both your hands from his body causing him to wince out of overstimulation. “hah.. almost killed me y’know” he glares at your smitten facial expressions, you roll your eyes before landing a big kiss onto his parched lips. “whateverrr, you liked it!” you reply, only thing on your mind is the next time you’ll be able to help your husband ‘cool off after work’

who knows.. maybe this will become a little routine you guys have

a/n : can you tell i like sub nanami.. ermm ; got lazy at the end loll likes & reblogs appreciated <3 kisses from c4toru !!

kiss me, i'm contagious

ino x reader

2.3k words

shower sex, implied age gap (younger man/older woman), strangers, mostly submissive ino, cum eating, nanami shows up for two seconds

tw for some talk of suicidal thoughts/self harm, only at the beginning and can be skimmed it just gives slight context

always tip your curse exorcist. especially if he's cute.

when the whole ordeal was over, the man in the suit (with a face so handsome and a voice so deep that you were squeezing your legs together all over again) explained to you that there had been some sort of entity in your apartment that was invisible to 'people like you,' as he had bluntly put it. though you could never fully wrap your head around it, you were forced out of questioning it simply by how much sense it made, for something so nonsensical.

"you've probably been feeling under the weather in some way lately," he had said, folding his hands in front of him on the table. "it can manifest in any number of ways, really. migraines, sore throat, muscular aches, overwhelming sadness or anger. any abnormal feelings or sensations that only seem to manifest at home-- when you're in proximity to the curse, that is." chewing a nail, you racked your brain for any occurrences that lined up with what he described.

"how about suicidal thoughts?" you had been embarrassed to ask, but he was unperturbed.

"sure, it wouldn't surprise me. we don't hear about that as often, though." uncommon or not, you at least had an explanation for how tantalizing your bedroom window had been for weeks, maybe longer. even earlier that day you had been delusionally unfastening the window locks, your hands trembling at the thought of your own body splattered on the pavement below. the only thing that tore you away from the temptation of self-destruction was a sudden urge to shower.

you weren't even sure if you had always liked your showers so hot; your skin felt seared by every drop, but everything in your body screamed at you to leave the knob where it was, so far to the left that you were afraid it would get stuck. besides the temperature, you were frightfully lightheaded, choking on each steamy breath. you thought to yourself that you were going to have to lay down when you got out of the shower. when you got out? when were you getting out? it was hard to say how long you had even been in there. you were half-soaped, desperately trying to calculate how long it had been, when you unmistakably heard a knock at the door.

simply put, you had no idea who could be coming over unannounced. no family nearby, no available friends, no late rent or anticipated maintenance men; even your neighbors, cold as they were, would send you a message before resorting to the pounding on the door you were helplessly listening to. the thought of leaving the scalding shower was still nowhere near the front of your mind.

"um, ma'am?" the person at the door shouted, pausing his pounding knocks for a moment. "i hope this isn't a bad time, i really need to help you with something, it might be urgent." was this some new kind of scam? surely not, from someone with such a young-sounding voice, right? in any case, you still made no move to leave, frozen in place. "ma'am, if you're home, it would really be nice if you opened the door. it's really hard to explain right now, but i'm here to help you." over the unrelenting sound of water, you made out a sigh. "i can pay to fix it if i have to kick the door in, but i really don't want to." kick the door in? alarm bells should have been ringing like crazy in your head. instead, of course, you stayed where you were, waiting for him to do exactly that.

it was a much quieter sound than you expected. he must have done it dozens of times for it to sound so controlled. you idly wondered if there were a way to make the water even hotter.

"oh, shit, are you in the shower?" he called, voice punctuated by heavy footsteps. "oh man, i'm so sorry. i hope i didn't scare you." his embarrassment was palpable. "um, how do i even explain this.. there's.. something in your apartment that i'm here to get rid of. you probably haven't seen or heard anything, but that's.." he groaned, cutting himself off. "i hate it when nanami makes me explain this shit. he does it so much better than i do. um, listen, we'll explain everything to you when i'm done, okay? i just need to find this thing and get rid of it." his endearing confusion had slightly pulled you out of your trance. you heard the hushed shuffles of your floor-length curtains and couch cushions being shoved around. despite his promise of explaining later, you couldn't help dimly wondering what exactly he was looking for.

you distractedly scrubbed at yourself again, something in your chest pricking as his footsteps thudded closer to the bathroom. "ah, shit," he murmured, something (his head?) thunking defeatedly against the door. "um, hey, ma'am," he started, more embarrassment creeping into his voice. "i think the thing i'm looking for is in the room with you." you almost scoffed. you of all people should know that you were the only thing in there. "i know this doesn't make sense, and i'm really sorry, but i'm feeling an insane amount of cursed energy in there. unless there's something about you that they didn't tell us, that thing has got to be in there. i can feel it through the door, it's making me sick." if you weren't inhaling copious amounts of condensation, you would've been beyond confused; the most your mind could muster was dazed curiosity.

"you're absolutely sure there's something in here?" you asked, reaching out to grasp the shower nozzle. your sense of danger was far too weak to think twice about letting him come in. "the door is unlocked." he gave some sort of relieved hum. you heard the jingle of the knob as it slowly turned. he hesitated a moment before pushing the door open.

"you have a second to grab a towel or something, you know," he rasped, apparently realizing at the same time as you that you were covered only by the wet fog on the shower's glass door. you finally turned the water off, taking a deep breath of the cooling air.

"it's okay, i didn't bring a towel in," you mumbled, peering through the condensation to make out his figure. from what you could tell, he was <em>cute</em>; paired with what you could parse of his personality, you didn't terribly mind the thought of him seeing you naked, stranger or not. "how long is.. whatever you're going to do supposed to take?"

he had stepped fully into the small bathroom, his shoes squeaking on the damp tile. "just a minute or two, it's smaller than i expected. it's sitting in your sink, by the way." squinting, you tried to make out even a hint of what he was referring to. your efforts were unsurprisingly fruitless. you averted your eyes awkwardly for a moment to let him do his bizarre job, looking back at him as he let out a sigh of relief. "alright, it's taken care of. if it was having an effect on you, it should be wearing off pretty quickly." he turned in your direction, his eyes dancing over your form through the fading fog not very discretely. something about his audacity was turning you on.

"um, do i have to pay you for that?" you asked sheepishly, sliding open the door just a crack to get a clearer look at him. you could still feel a flush on your face from the heat of the water, and the way he was looking at you was only adding to it.

"oh, uh, no, it doesn't really work like that.. i guess i can accept a tip, though, if you insist." you were holding the door with one hand, peering out at him, your bare chest pressing shamelessly against the glass. he could hardly even pretend to tear his eyes away. "what kind of payment did you have in mind, exactly..?" he asked, voice trembling.

he was right about you feeling better quickly; not only were you free from thoughts of melting off your skin or holding your own head under the faucet, you were feeling unusually confident. "you've been looking at me," you said, studying his expression. "i've got a few ideas you might like." he audibly swallowed.

"y-you don't have to do something like that, seriously," he stuttered, the red on his face spreading like a plague. "you're probably still being influenced by the curse, anyways, it'd be like taking advantage of a drunk girl, i can't do that to you, ma'am," he rambled, keeping himself upright with a hand on the slick bathroom counter as he watched you shove the shower door further aside, fully revealing yourself to his insatiable eyes.

"oh, but i insist," you teased, overflowing with your newfound boldness. "don't you wanna join me in here?" you tilted your head at him, pleading with big fuck-me eyes. after a pitiful sigh he relented, nodding enthusiastically. "don't worry about the shoes," you assured him, extending a hand to help him in. he was panting immediately, clearly not from the dissipating heat.

you guided his hand to rest on your hip, still hot and wet from your unnecessarily long (yet unfinished) showering endeavors. the feeling of skin seemed to snap him out of his bashfulness, his hand traveling almost of its own will to grip your ass desperately. "fuck," he whined as you planted a hand on his abdomen, letting it slip under his waistband playfully. "i gotta warn you, ma'am, my, um-- nanami might come looking for me if i don't give him an update soon--" you cut him off by hastily tugging his pants down, pressing your back against the dripping tile behind you. one leg wrapped around his narrow waist, pulling him in, his cock prodding your stomach.

"that's fine," you purred, shifting him around with your leg to guide him into your entrance. "we can fit one more in here." he groaned, sinking into you, resting his head on your shoulder as he let you adjust. maybe he hadn't caught what you said, but he was throbbing inside you nonetheless. "you better hurry if you don't want mr. nanami to join us," you cooed, nipping his ear. the threat seemed to go straight to his hips, hurriedly fucking into you like it was his goal all along. he let out a ragged breath as you clenched around him. he had no intention of disclosing it to you, but based on his performance, it must have been his first time; erratic thrusts, constant whimpering, excessive sensitivity. it was a surprise to both of you that he lasted more than a few strokes. you had hardly processed the fact that he had pulled out of you until you felt the hot spurts on your stomach, his dick still half-hard and pulsating on your hip. he struggled to catch his breath before speaking.

"sorry," he rasped, supporting himself with a hand beside your head. "didn't know if i was allowed to.. you know." he flashed a sheepish smile, flicking the sweaty hair from his eyes. the sweetly innocent look on his face made something cruel flash through your mind. he had finished so quickly that you were certain he could make time for your ridiculous demand. you put on a pout, looking at him like a disappointed mother.

"after i just showered," you chastised, shaking your head. "do you think you could clean me up?" nevermind the fact that you hadn't really finished showering in the first place-- that was none of his business. nevermind how easy it would be to grab a washcloth or turn the water back on again. if it didn't occur to him, then it didn't need to occur to you. you planted a hand on his shoulder, just firm enough to push him down to his knees before you. "you don't mind, do you?" you were playing with this poor boy. the way the blood rushed straight back to his dick erased your guilt pretty quickly. when he raised a hand to wipe the mess away, you wagged a disapproving finger. fortunately for you, he understood without explanation. his cheeks once again flushed, he tentatively licked at one spot of cum. the light feeling of his tongue on your skin made your muscles tense, a small noise escaping you. he made a face, displeased at the taste or the texture, pausing before lapping up more. he grew bolder fast, sucking hickeys into spots he had just licked clean, pulling more soft noises out of you. you didn't ignore the way his hand found his dick, jerking himself off feverishly as he tongued his own cum off of your skin. he delivered sweet mewls into your abdomen, sucking air in through clenched teeth as he unloaded again onto the dewy floor, finally spent. as if on cue, his phone, at some point abandoned beside the sink, started to ring, the awful ringtone bouncing off of the cavernous walls.

"oh, fuck, that's nanami," he sighed, rising on unsteady legs and adjusting his half-damp pants. "he'll be by to explain things to you at some point anyways, i guess i should have mentioned that." you watched as he hoisted himself out of the shower, looking himself over in the un-fogged mirror. "i, um.. thank you," was all he could say, looking down shyly as he darted out the door. 

it occurred to you at some point in your conversation with the man in the suit that he was, undeniably, the nanami that the boy had mentioned. the nanami you had hypothetically invited to join you in your unglamorous shower sex. you awkwardly cleared your throat, directing your attention back to whatever the hell he had been saying. maybe you should get yourself involved with curses more often.

I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 (∩︵∩)

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐝 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞, 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬), 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 ,,𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲" (𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲)

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲. 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

Jayce Talis is big, and he knows it. He knows he stretches you past your limit, knows your tight little pussy can barely take him, and he lives for it— the way you tremble underneath him, the way your breath hitches when he presses his thick cock against your entrance, the way you whimper when the blunt head pushes inside, splitting you apart.

Too Big, Too Thick, and He Wants You to Feel Every Inch

He takes his time at first—lets you feel the ache of him stretching you open, his cock pressing against your walls inch by inch, your body struggling to take him. "Shit, baby, you're so tight—" His fingers dig into your thighs, his voice rough he forces himself deeper, groaning as your walls squeeze around him "Fuck, look at you-already shaking, and I'm not even all the way in."

And when you whimper, when you clutch at his shoulders, shaking your head, babbling that he's too big—he just grins. "C'mon, baby, you can take it. Let me make you feel full."

Holds You Down So You Can't Escape the Stretch

The second he bottoms out, his hips flush against yours, he stills. Just lets you feel it, feel how deep he is, feel how he's stuffing you so full you can barely breathe. "Mmm, fuck-look at you, baby. So fucking stretched, so full-you feel that? Feel me all the way in your fucking stomach?" He presses a big, warm hand to your lower belly, groaning when he feels himself inside you, thick and deep, your walls fluttering around him. "Shit, baby, I'm wrecking you, huh?"

And when you try to squirm, try to pull back even an inch, his grip tightens. "Nah, baby. You wanted me to fuck you like this, right? So take it.”

Fucks You So Deep It Knocks the Air Out of You

Once he starts moving? You're done.

Jayce doesn't hold back-doesn't care that his cock is too big for you, that every thrust forces your walls to stretch even wider, that every deep, brutal snap of his hips has you gasping, hands scrambling for something to hold onto.

"Ohhh, baby-fuck, you feel that? So fucking deep" He loves the way you whimper, loves the way your body clenches down on him, loves the way he can see himself splitting you apart, your pussy stretched tight around his thick cock. "Fuck, look at this little cunt -gripping me like you don't wanna let me go."

Loves Watching You Struggle to Take It All

Jayce knows he's too big, and it drives him crazy seeing you try to take him-seeing the way your eyes roll back, the way your mouth falls open, the way your body shakes from the effort of taking his cock so fucking deep. "Ohhh, baby-shit, you're struggling, huh?" He watches your pussy stretch around him, his cock bulging against your stomach with every deep thrust, and it makes him feral. "You were made for this, baby. Made to take me—look at how perfect this pussy is, stretching just for me."

And when you start babbling-"Too much, Jayce, too big, I can't-"—he just groans, slamming his hips forward, making you scream. "Ohh, baby, yes you can. You can take it."

Won't Stop Until You're Crying on His Cock

You're a mess-tears pricking at your eyes, thighs shaking, body wrecked-but Jayce? He's not done. He loves seeing you like this, so fucked out you can barely think, your pussy stretched so wide around him that it looks like you can't possibly take anymore. "Mmm, fuck, look at you— so wrecked for me, baby. You love this, don't you? Love getting split open on my thick fucking cock?" He grinds his hips, forcing himself even deeper, watching as you wail, body arching, completely at his mercy.

"Yeah, baby-fucking take it. Take every inch."

Fucks You Until You're Gushing

And then he really ruins you. His thrusts get sharper, meaner, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, rough circles as his cock slams against that perfect little spot inside you. "Gonna make you cum for me, baby-gonna make you squirt all over this fucking cock-" And you do-your whole body snapping tight, a choked, wrecked scream breaking from your lips as you gush around him, soaking his cock, your thighs, the sheets.

"Fuuuck-look at that, baby-so fucking messy-" But he doesn't stop. Keeps fucking into you, forcing more out of you, watching with wide, hungry eyes as you drip for him, your body spasming, completely ruined.

"Shit, baby, this pussy was made for me."

Fills You Up Until You Can't Hold Anymore

Jayce is losing it-his thrusts getting erratic, his hands gripping your hips so hard they'll bruise, his breath coming out in rough, wrecked groans.

"Ohhh, fuck, baby-gonna cum-gonna fill you up—" His hips snap forward, cock buried so deep inside you he's pressing against your cervix, and then he's spilling inside you, moaning like he's falling apart, his cum flooding your pussy, filling you up so full you swear you can feel it.

"Mmm, fuck, baby-so much-" And when he pulls out? His cum is dripping out of you, leaking down your thighs, making a mess of the sheets. But he just grins, fingers gathering the slick, shoving it right back inside you. "Uh-uh, baby. We're not wasting this."

And then he slides back inside, still hard, groaning at the sloppy mess between your thighs, the way your pussy is still fluttering around him.

"One more, baby. Just one more. Let's see if I can really split you apart."

wonder how many times reader has had to take super mario privileges away from sev isha and jinx bc they WILL break all of the living room furniture when a game gets too heated

AHAHHAHAHA this is so funny

men and minors dni

sevika's not allowed to play any first person shooter games. she's so fucking horrible at aiming, she's always losing. it stresses her out way too much, and by the time she's shot down she's yelling at the television.

isha had to come get you once, an annoyed huff leaving her lips as she signed. can you take big mama away? i want win a round.

after coaxing your wife away from the living room, giving isha and jinx the opportunity to win without carrying her the whole game, you inform sevika of her situation.

"you aren't allowed to play fortnite anymore." you say, giggling as you guys make out in the kitchen.

"what? why not?"

"you slow the girls down too much, they don't wanna make you feel bad by telling you."

"oh, but you'll just go right ahead and bruise my ego?" she asks with a pout. you grin.

"i'm your wife. that's part of my job, baby."

sevika groans and leans in to kiss you again.

isha will rage about mario cart.

you woke up one early morning to blood curdling screams ringing through the house. you grabbed the bat you keep by your bedside and sprinted out into the living room, ready to fight off whatever's making isha scream so loud.

but the big threat wasn't a person or creature-- it was a blue shell sevika launched at isha from her spot in the 12th place.

isha was blown off the course and finished in 8th, rather than 1st-- and by the time you got to the scene, isha was already flinging pillows at sevika and groaning.

jinx is able to calm her down after a while... but after that there's an unspoken rule in the house that isha's always the winner of every round of mario cart. even if it means you have to sabotage yourself and drive off the track.

jinx is pretty chill with most games-- she gets so into them she gets kinda quiet with her focus-- but you've had to rip her away from her ipad several times over her raging about dress to impress on roblox.

"these stupid little fucks don't know anything about fashion!". "'a torn up circus tent'?-- i'm gonna fucking dox you bitch!", "i'm the only one who wore all black for the goth theme how did i not fucking place!?"

"jinx, kiddo, i think maybe you should give the game a rest." you suggest softly.

"I HATE THESE DUMBASS LITTLE KIDS!" she cries.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

Lucifer Absolutely can't stop himself from thigh humping when making out. Like he can Not keep his hips still he gets almost frantic without realizing he's doing it. If you try to hold his hips still he nearly cries because he didn't know how much he was moving until he stopped and its embarrassing how badly he needs to start again. -mg

a/n — thank you mg this is BEAUTIFUL istg your asks are always top tier oh my god.

anyways, here’s a drabble.

His hands tugged at your shirt collar trying to bring you closer as your tongue slipped into his mouth. 

He scooted closer you on the couch you both were sitting on, hands moving to your cheeks to deepen the kiss. You finally got fed up with the distance between the two of you, pulling him onto your lap. 

He sighed into your mouth as you rested your hands on his back.

His breath got more ragged the more you kissed, sinking into each other desperately.

He moaned into your mouth and buried his hands your hair, not noticing the way his hips were grinding down on your thigh.

You moved past it at first, focusing on Lucifer’s tongue in your mouth and biting his lip softly. As the kiss deepened, his soft moans paired with the sensation on your leg made it impossible to ignore.

He humped your thigh with such speed and desperation you were almost sure he had to know what he was doing. But his face was completely focused on the kiss, meaning that despite his needy and desperate movements were totally subconscious.

The whine he let out into your mouth was cut short by the way your hands fell to his hips, holding them in place.

“Excited, Luci?” You smile, making him look away with a light blush.

“I didn’t realize I was getting carried away, my love,” he tries to joke but ends up just desperately leaning back into your lips.

You kiss back, falling into the same rhythm you had before, but this time your hands kept him still in your lap.

He tried not the think about the pounding in his neglected dick for as long as possible before it got to his head. He kissed sloppily as his eyes filled with tears and he fell away from your lips.

“Mm, please, I need too, I can’t—“ he whines, squirming slightly as you hold him by his thighs. The hardness in his cock was as undeniable as the desperation in his eyes.

It made you curious, “You want me to touch you, Luci?” your hand falls too graze his bulge.

He whines uselessly, and nods his head while his vision grows blurry from the building tears, “Mhm, yes, god, yes please.” 

“Aw, poor baby, look at you,” you coo condescendingly, “Can’t even handle a little make out session?”

Your palm his pulsating cock through his pants and he half sobs in your arms, pouting into your neck.

“I know I just—“ he starts, face wrinkling up to stop from crying and lets out a desperate whimper.

You life his head up and look at him, your hands start moving his hips for him. He moans before you pull him in for a hungry kiss.

When you break away, a strand of saliva hangs between the two of you. Lucifer’s face was wet from letting out a few tears and his lips were red and puffy.

“Go on then, pretty boy, ride my thigh, just like you wanted.” You move your thigh up into his crotch slightly and he throws his head back in a moan.

He did just like you asked and humped your thigh fast and desperately as tears poured from his face and whines flew out of his mouth.

In was insane how desperate and needy he got from one kiss, and yet, incredibly entertaining.