Originally 10 collections of things that are so domestic that to see Spencer Reid embody. I would love nothing more.
Edit: I added blurbs I wrote because yes, also they're in no particular order!!!
Kissing
Holding Hands
Hanging out
Tired
Cosy reading
Working Ethics
Gift Giving
Birthday
Introduction as girlfriend who works with bau(they come out to everyone at work)
Going on public dates
Private in house dates
Wedding
Bedroom
Specials
Coming Home
Irregular updates I'm afraid. Come back and check for updates. It will turn blue when a fic has been completed and posted. Also please comment its really helps.
Your truly
Mrs. Alexandre 🫶🏾
So like some of the links aren't working and I'm so sorry my archives are immense so finding the fics are really difficult to fine :( so please bare with me and either dig through my stuff or wait for the distribution system to get to you thank you and trust I WILL get around to fixing them.
✧･ﾟ:dean needs to be close to you. You’re the warmest, most stable and sweet thing in his life. The ground you walk on turns to gold and the kisses are sweeter than pie. He’d burn the world just for you to smile at him, because the light in your eyes would be brighter than the flames. There’s nothing he won’t do. Nothing he won’t try to give.
✧･ﾟ:it makes it hard for him to take, sometimes. You want him to. With everything he does—how hard he works for you and Sam and the world—there isn’t a person in the world who deserves to have things more. You kiss all over his face and test his willpower, trying to get him to snap.
✧･ﾟ:you crawl into his lap and grinding down until he groans and snap. You giggle as he grabs your jaw and kisses you like a starved man. You shriek in delight when he flips you over, ripping at your clothing almost like a feral animal. You coax him on with soft moans and fluttering, glossy eyes.
✧･ﾟ:he drops his brow against yours, exhaling sharply as he pushes himself inside your gaping, aching cunt. You push your head back against the pillow with a long moan, and he sucks on your throat. He needs to mark you. Show the world what’s his, what he does to his pretty girl.
✧･ﾟ:usually he drawls praise and moans your name, but tonight he’s desperate. His mouth is already slack, his eyes blown out and wrecked. He holds you tight to his chest like a doll, consuming your whole body with broad shoulders and low grunts in your ear.
✧･ﾟ:you’re almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Between the weight of him and split of his thick cock in your pussy, your vision is going blurry. But you can still see him, trying to give more than take. He drives into that gooey spot inside of you and your back arches. Dean cradles you in his arms and pants, brows knit tight and jaw clenched, trying to get closer but refusing to do more than long, deep thrusts of his hips.
✧･ﾟ:with a trembling hand you reach around him and press down on the small of his back. His hips drop down, hitting so deep you can feel him in your throat. He tries to lean up, but you press harder. He frowns at you, almost adorably confused. You smile, and press a soft, deep kiss to his pretty, parted lips.
✧･ﾟ:dean melts. He drops fully down, his face pressing into your chest so he can suck and kiss over your breasts as he moves your hips up. Big hands grope at your ass, letting him hit that impossibly deep angle, over and over and over. His thrusts become shallow and desperate, every gasp from his lips a prayer of your name.
✧･ﾟ:he uses you like a sweet little fuck doll, broken moans falling from his lips as his cock bullies against your g-spot. Your vision glazes, your toes curling and core flooding with heat as you cum. Dean pushes up to kiss every moan out of your mouth, practically a dead weight as he hits his own release.
✧･ﾟ:for a while after, he just leans over you, pressing his hips down to hold his cum in your tight, perfect pussy. You comb your fingers through his hair and kiss his brow, letting him take all the time he needs. He, more than anyone else, deserves it.
✦Dean Masterlist - Main Masterlist - read on AO3!✦
synopsis . SukuGo but you’re getting fucked in between them while they argue. content . afab!reader, established relationship, rough sex, eiffel tower, sukuna x gojo, a bit of dirty talk, bickering, little attention on the reader, creampie, etc.
"You talk a lot of shit for someone who's barely keeping up right now." Sukuna rasps out to the sweaty, white-haired man on the other side of your currently ruined frame. He's got a single hand weaved into your hair as he works your mouth up and down the length of his blushing cock, still managing to argue even while he's halfway down your throat.
To which Gojo scoffs profoundly, "Oh yeah?" He starts, hands currently clinging onto the purchase of your hips whilst his pelvis meets the soft flesh of your ass with his heavy thrusts, heavy balls plap! plap! plapping! against your achy clit, "Says the idiot who-, hah, fuck... came on her face before she even stuck her tongue out," He fires back to the pink haired individual leaking all over the inner walls of your mouth.
Sukuna almost immediately rolls his eyes before setting them down onto you and sighing at the way your lips look bulging around the thick of his cock so prettily, "That was intentional.." He claims, weighty palm lightly stroking the top of your head whilst you lap your tongue against his most sensitively bulging vein, "After all, look at her now," He smirks when you try to take him a little deeper into your mouth but gag around him instead, "Poor girl won't even be able to talk properly tomorrow, I bet."
You try (pathetically) to insert yourself there and argue with Sukuna's last little complain but the only thing either of them catch out of you is a choked out moan with the way Gojo starts plowing into you harder from behind and Sukuna slips his hand off to the back of your hand to force your mouth further onto him.
You couldn't even join in if you tried, seeing as they way-too-easily had you moaning and sobbing tears of pleasure around both of their cocks.
"Fuck you," Gojo eventually huffs back after a moment of getting a little too lost inside you, literally. His fat tip is knocking right against that spot that has you gushing all around him and it's making it harder and harder for him to keep up with Sukuna's taunts.
The man who's busy watching your saliva gather up around his plump base and drip off of him and down onto the soaked sheets finds himself cocking an amused brow. "Oh?" The man starts off as he sends Gojo that signature smug grin of his, "You wanna?"
You feel Gojo's cock twitch wildly inside you and for a second, it almost feels as though he grows bigger. Hips stammering along with his voice slightly wavering, he pants out an all too caught off-guard, "W-What?"
Sukuna's smile only widens further into something all the more wicked. Then he clasps his lower lip in between his teeth for a moment and eases the pace of his cock rubbing up and down the expanse of your slopped tongue. "Let me finish up with this pretty throat 'n I'll save the rest of my energy just for you, yeah?" He offers.
Neither you or Gojo could tell whether or not he was serious about that.
Batting those pretty white lashes of his, Gojo's brows get to furrowing and his hips still inside you completely, "That's not what I-"
Before he can even finish, you're in between the two whining at the way Sukuna's cock slides out of your mouth all of a sudden. It's like they were forgetting you were in between them already! Pouting and looking up with glassy eyes, "Kunaa-"
"Shhh, shhh," He hushes out to both of you. Then he's using one hand to cup your jaw and redirect you where he wants you. You feel his fingers smush your face, forcing your mouth to open as he then force-feeds you the drooling head of his cock again to shut you up. When you start smiling around it, he shakes his head almost endearingly before looking over to Gojo and sending him a knowing smile, "One brat at a time."
Gojo instantly starts pouting but tries to play it off as if that were because of the way your cunt started clenching around him. Muttering, "Whatever." Hardly underneath his breath.
Sukuna chuckles, "Aw, you jealous?"
"As if." He chuffs.
"Don't worry, I'll give you a taste of my cock next since you're so needy for it."
"What." Gojo deadpans one last time, as if he weren't actively cumming inside you at the very thought.
banner art by rororogi mogera || perm general tags (1/2):
sukuna’s clingy (he prefers the term “possessive”) even as he sleeps
i feel like sukuna sleeps holding you like you’re a hostage that’s going to wake up in the middle of the night and run away.
he’s the big spoon of course and he’s molded around your body like a puzzle piece. chest pressed seamlessly to your backside, one arm hooked around your neck in a loving? soft chokehold, the other curled over your waist, palm splayed over the natural plush of your tummy. your thighs up in fetal position between his, legs intertwined, feet touching, literally the whole nine yards. entirely unaware or uncaring of his size, but definitely aware of yours. hunched over you like a dragon protecting its glimmering mountain of gold and treasure.
and it’s that kind of embrace that seems uncomfortable or suffocating from the outside-looking-in, but it’s actually the best sleep you’ve gotten in years and the only way you can sleep now. it’s the kind that has you snoring when you never snore. the kind that has you waking up looking like a skrunkly cat after a good nap.
his steady heartbeat thrumming against your back and counting sheep for you, your chin tucked in his inner elbow as you drool all over it, head effortlessly perched at just the right angle on his meaty bicep instead of that flat and lifeless pillow that gives you a crick in your neck. your body grounded with the comforting weight of his heavy arm strewn over it, the gentle heat of his thumb stroking on your lower abdomen, the pressure you usually carry in your lower back gone because your legs are elevated due to the beefy mass that’s under them. it’s like he’s your custom made body pillow.
and if you need to pee in the middle the night you’ll have to smack his arm to get him to unfurl his tired limbs with a grunt because he sleeps like he’s dead. he’ll follow you there even when you tell him to stay in bed, heavy feet dragging behind you across the cool vinyl, one sock missing and his loose sleep pants hanging off his hips.
“hurry up, m’cold.” he’ll rub his eyes and grumble groggily as if you forced him to come with you.
he’s just standing in the dark bathroom with his arms crossed, eyes drifting back to a close while he sways like he’s on a ship. then he’s glaring at the doorframe with the most adorable, sleepy scowl on his face after he stumbles into it on accident, like someone put it there just to spite him. that is until he deems it worthy enough to lean on, a loud yawn blooming from the drowsy, messy-haired giant who’s patiently waiting to crawl back into bed with you.
︵ ೀ mdni. satoru railing you on the table in the early morning
“you’re still horny? didn’t i fuck you hard enough last night?”
satoru grins against your mouth as you kiss him over breakfast, all needy and desperate like you didn’t get railed for hours last night. you’re straddling his lap at the kitchen table, grinding your soaked pussy against the hard bulge in his sweatpants.
“fuck, baby,” he laughs but his hands grab your ass and pull you down harder. “look at you. one kiss and you’re already this wet.” his lips trail down your neck, sucking marks into your skin while you rock your hips faster, rubbing your clit against his thick cock through the fabric.
you whimper and tug at his shirt. he doesn’t bother with foreplay. one hand shoves your panties to the side, and with the other he pushes his sweat shorts down just enough to free his thick cock. “always so greedy in the morning,” he mutters, then sinks in.
you moan loud as he fills you up, stretching your tight walls around his fat length. he grips your hips and bounces you on his cock right there on the chair, deep and rough. wet sounds fill the kitchen every time you slam down.
“shit, still so fucking tight,” satoru groans, biting your neck. “fucked you so good last night and you’re still clenching like you need more.” he suddenly stands up with you still on his cock, legs wrapped around his waist. he lays you flat on the kitchen table, knocking a plate aside, and starts fucking you with hard, deep thrusts.
the table shakes under you and you have to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself. and then satoru reaches over, grabs the coffee mug beside your head and takes a long sip while he keeps railing you.
“really!??” you manage to choke out between moans.
satoru smirks down at you, thrusts never slowing. “what? i got an early meeting. need my caffeine, baby.” he takes another sip, then sets the mug down and grips your thighs, spreading you wider so he can fuck you even harder.
his cock slams in deep and fast, balls slapping against you. “fuck, this pussy feels too good. can’t help it if you’re still this horny after i filled you up last night.” he leans over you, one hand braced on the table, the other on your leg to fold you in half.
“gotta multitask today. now cum for me before i have to leave.”
roommate!satoru is trying stay sex sober but his new neighbor making it reaaally hard.
satoru’s back is pressed against the thin wall separating your rooms, legs sprawled wide on his bed, pants shoved down just enough to free his cock.
it’s already leaking, pink, heavy and flushed in his fist as he strokes slow, listening. the low hum of your vibrator carries through the drywall all steady and relentless, and underneath it is your soft gasps, those little broken whimpers that make his stomach tighten.
he bites his lip hard, trying not to make a sound, but fuck, you’re loud tonight.
he imagines every time the toy presses deeper you moan a little louder, breathy and needy, and it goes straight to his dick. his hand tightens, thumb swiping over the slick head, spreading the precum down his length in messy strokes. he matches the rhythm of the sound you’re making, as if he’s inside you and thrusting; slow at first then faster, hips twitching up into his grip like he can feel you instead.
“shit… just like that,” he breathes, barely audible, eyes squeezed shut.
the wall vibrates faintly with your movements and he pictures it perfectly: your thighs spread, back arching, that toy buried between your legs buzzing against your clit while your fingers twist the sheets. another moan slips from you, higher this time, and satoru’s stroke falters, a quiet groan ripping out of his throat before he can catch it.
almost there. he edges.
he pumps faster, fist slick and noisy, the wet sounds barely masked by your vibrator. his free hand presses flat to the wall like he could reach through it, thumb digging into the base of his cock as he squeezes, imagining how tight and warm you’d feel instead. your sounds are getting frantic now, little cries and gasps that have him leaking all over his fingers, balls drawn up tight.
he’s supposed to be staying sex sober, supposed to be good, but hearing you chase it like this is torture.
his hips jerk, chasing his hand, breath ragged as he twists his wrist just right on the upstroke. when you let out that long, shaky moan that signals you’re close, satoru loses it completely, stroking hard and desperate, forehead thunking softly against the wall.
he cums with a choked whisper of your name, thick ropes spilling over his knuckles and onto his stomach while your vibrator keeps humming and your aftershocks fill the quiet.
he keeps pumping slow through it, milking every last drop, chest heaving, already half-hard again just from the thought of you lying there spent and satisfied on the other side of the wall.
♡ summary: he may not be some prince charming, but toji was determined to show you there are other ways to reach a happy ending.
♡ wc: 7k
♡ content warnings: fem! camgirl! reader, frog! toji, teasing (unintentionally), filming, brief mentions of starving (he is trying to switch back by starving himself), crèàmpies, toy usage, brief mentions of murder, jealousy, manhandling, running from it, choking, toji has a big d, fìngering, rough sex, tummy bulges, r is squeamish, overstim, petnames, praise, unprotected, multiple rounds, possessive elements, reverse cowgirl, backshōts, size difference, spánking, hair pulling, sqúriting, body worship, pwp, p slapping.
♡ a/n: apothecary diaries mention (empire one too lwk)
He was going to kill that bitch who put him in this predicament and then he was going to get you for actually thinking he was a frog and keeping him as your pet.
Unfortunately, Toji was transformed into a frog after fighting a sorcerer with a weird technique. They are no longer with us, but that's besides the point. Although the sorcerer is gone, he is going to kill the person who hired him for not telling him about that “small” technique. However, he will do that after collecting his check.
The biggest issue preventing him from getting his revenge was you, after finding him on your windowsill you collected him as a real frog. Coddling him, giving him food to eat, and making sure he didn't take a foot outside.
Those aren't even bad, if anything he could bask in the attention and free housing but unknowingly you have a terrible habit of teasing him.
He was so particularly frustrated both mentally and sexually.
It's torture, coming in from shopping or whatever you do outside, you undress at the door tossing your clothing into the hamper. Parading around the house in just your panties and bra or if he was lucky you would at least wear a shirt. Although it was a small relief, the shirt was thin as hell and you never wore a bra under so he could still see whatever was “hidden” underneath.
At night however was where his sanity was tested, in your bedroom he could hear the sounds of you streaming. At first, it sounds like those regular ones he saw on social media a few times until they would quickly shift into whatever perverted fantasy you wanted to reenact with your viewers. Even in his new form, his senses weren't dulled. He could hear each thrust, moan, and notification you got. Every few minutes you read one out letting the compliment go to your ego, thanking them, and teasing them on through the screen.
He has never seen you stream, fortunately, Toji doesn't think he would stay sane if he had to sit there and watch you get off. Perverts behind the screen begging to touch you or what they wanted to do to you didn't even compare to what he was thinking. Other than what he would do to the person who hired him, he made a promise to get you back for all the shit you were putting him through. With interest of course.
The issue was, Toji just had to figure out how the hell he was going to get out, or if he could. He tried starving himself to see if dying as a frog would transform him back, however realizing Toji’s suicidal mission you rushed him to the vet for a shot. Now you watched him eat, sitting in front of his terrarium. Occasionally you would eat with him, probably thinking it would make him feel better. In a way it did, he hasn't eaten with another person in years. It was a nice change but it would be infinitely better if he were in his human form.
“Jinshi? I'm home!” you cheered coming through the door with a bag from PetSmart, perhaps it was because he was a frog but the food wasn't half bad. Jinshi wasn't even his name but after seeing him you declared it instantly. He would much prefer to hear you screaming his actual name instead but he can work with this, for now. “I got you some more food, I hate touching it but if it's for you…” You pulled your face away from looking inside the bag.
“I was gone for so long, the cashier and I were talking, honestly kind of cute but I have a feeling he might recognize me.” you rambled, pulling out one of the bags full of bloodworms, with a heavily gloved hand and a big pair of tweezers you plucked a few out and dropped them in his habitat. Swiftly closing the bag tightly and putting the rest up into containers, you screamed loudly when one of them escaped.
“C’mon! Ugh, okay…” You tried hyping yourself up to pick up the worm off the ground. Even at its pace, you were somehow slower than it to capture it. If he were able to, he would've picked it up by now, maybe scare you with it, but still pick it up way faster than the 10 minutes it took you to. “Jinshi! I did it, did you see that?!” You were so happy that you even petted him a little bit from inside the terrarium.
He couldn't wait to get his hands on you. He was tempted to hop out and climb onto your hand knowing you would back out in fear, and finally make his grand escape. However, if he did do that, it wouldn't make his life easier. Then he would have to find somewhere else to live and it's not like he can do anything in the form he has taken now. Settling he gave you a ribbet as a reward for your bravery.
He would have to postpone your introduction to his cursed worm, if you would even see it. You can barely handle the small ones, this was closer to your size, you might pass out on the spot. You haven't gone screaming about ghosts, so he doubts it.
“Aww Jinshi, my sweet baby. I'm so happy I found you,” you said fondly, being extra gentle with his skin, even kissing the outside of the tank. Almost by instinct, he went to kiss it back but he couldn't so he stuck his tongue out and outlined the pink glossy imprint. It was the closest he was going to get to “kissing” you so he was going to take the opportunity.
Based on your insistent squealing, the act seemed to please you. What he didn't expect was tears to start falling from your pretty eyes, they were fat, coming down in laughter as you stretched your arms out to hug the tank.
“What would I do without you, Jinshi?” thoroughly happy you went into your room to begin your nightly escapades. Usually starting setup around sunset and continuing later in the night. He has never seen you go to work or even do something remote so he assumed you made a good amount from streaming.
“Hey guys, did you miss me? I surely missed you!” you greeted saying hello to the early birds. It was usually the same people, after a while he recognised some names but he didn't bother remembering them. “Digimonmaster66, thank you for the 5,000 coins!” Toji didn't know how much that was in real currency but the prick always started with that amount for every stream. Considering how happy you sounded when that notification came through, it had to be a substantial amount.
You usually spent the first 30 minutes or so talking to them about your day, sometimes mentioning that you had a frog. Today however you went into immense detail about Toji or “Jinshi” and how he just made you so happy. “He is so big for a frog-yes, I did name him after that!”
That was news to him, he didn't even know there was someone who inspired his new name. He remembers when you first saw him, completely and utterly terrified but then after a few glances that turned into long stares you opened your window. He only hopped in to see your reaction but instead of the fear he was sort of looking for, your eyes brightened up and closed the window behind him, effectively trapping the frog in your home.
He doesn't know what was going through your mind to keep a frog as a pet when you were scared of everything. Your trust in him was officially set when he ate a spider that found its way into your home, something in his mind was telling him to eat it. So he did not expect it to taste as good as it did. In that moment as he swallowed it you named him on the spot. “Jinshi, you saved me! I thought I would need to call my neighbor again,” you claimed, putting on your keys and coat, and placing him in a wet container, taking him to a pet store to get him things to get started with in his new home.
“Mmh you guys are so smart, just for that I think I'll get you guys a reward.” Your pitch was slower, a little more sexy as you thought of rewards for them. The real one who needed a reward was Toji, who would do you so much better than those twerps jacking off at the sight of your cleavage. They only got to see it when you turned the cameras on but him, but he got to see it every day. Just for him as you sat next to him by the window twirling a bit of your hair.
He has memorized almost every single pair of undergarments you owned, there were probably a few you weren't wearing out in your rotation but got to see them nonetheless.
“I have just the idea, brb.” you giggled, he could hear the rustling of clothing and zippers. By the time you were done, he could hear the vague sound of latex, maybe rubber? Whatever it was, it was squeaky. Hopping onto the bed you turned back on the cameras. “I saw this being requested in my inbox so much that I had to put it on to show you. I wasn't going to stream today but I got too excited.” he wants to see, shouldn't he get a reward too? Toji’s jealousy towards the audience only grew at each sweet moan he wished he could capture with his own lips, gasping as you described wanting to fondle their chests and show them ‘how good they were’ to you.
“Aww CursedCK thank you for the 6,000 coins, you see how happy you're making us.” You moaned, the nasty wet squelching he could only guess was you fingering yourself. The pace was slow, agonizingly slow, Toji would go faster. Piston his fingers so deep inside preparing you for his cock, watching you come undone beneath him. Make you scream louder than anyone else could, show you he is the only one to make you feel that way.
“You see how ready I am for you, I'm aching,” you whined, the bed rocking against the wall for a moment. There was silence for a bit until you let out a loud moan. “Mmhm, I couldn't wait any longer. You deserve it.” you giggled, the notifications went crazy one after another, barely milliseconds apart. That seemed to turn you on even more, whatever you were fucking yourself on was moving at a rapid speed, chasing your orgasm along with your audience.
“Fuck- so good, I'm so close.” Your voice was airy and light almost like you were asking. “Yes, yes! I want you inside, filling me till I can't go on anymore.” With a scream, you came. For most, the stream would end but today you were in a good mood, riding out the rest of your release, he could hear the sound of you pulling out what was inside. Catching your breath you thanked your viewers for helping you.
“40,000 coins, that's a lot. Thank you so much. I think I might cum again if I keep looking at it.” Considering you're the same person who almost cried when you saw Toji climbing the tank to escape, he thinks you just might. When he leaves he will need to look up the conversions, if it's good enough to make you nut then he might need to switch professions.
“Don't worry, I have something else for you.” Shutting off the cameras you walked into the living room, you dragged a large machine into your bedroom struggling just a bit to get off the ground. Muttering that you didn't want to scratch the floors. Toji could have sworn his brain short-circuited a little, you were wearing a leather set, similar to a dominatrix. Long black thigh-high boots and gloves even had the bunny mask sitting on top of your head. When you bent over for the machine he could see the slightest sliver of a jeweled plug in your ass.
Could it really get worse than this? Hearing you get off on a fucking machine, or what he assumes based on the sound and your comments about finally getting fucked from behind after so long. It was insufferable to listen to. Even worse that he couldn't see and everyone else could.
“I-I think we broke a record today, I feel a bit numb.” You were still catching your breath, the comments were getting spammed so those who wanted to get noticed would opt for sending coins instead. “Thank you DigimonMaster66 for being my top gifter today, I can't wait to show you how you've made me.” saying your final goodbyes closing the stream accepting the last few coins.
When you walked out of the room your legs were slick with fluids, Toji wanted to stick his tongue out and clean up the mess you made. If it weren't for this dreaded form.
As always you wore an old shirt with some panties, different from the leather lingerie set. They were still nice, more put on for comfort than to show off. “Jinshi? I thought you were asleep, baby?” Noticing he was still awake you made your way over to a bottle of water and vitamins in your hands. “I'm starting to think you have insomnia…Maybe I should get you checked out again?” Your voice was laced with concern rubbing on the tank like you were caressing his face. He would play nice for now, the veterinarian was a whole new hell unto itself.
“I'm not very tired myself, let's watch a movie, ‘kay.” You smiled plopping down on the couch as you scrolled through some of the movies. You gasped at one of the selections clicking on it immediately, “This used to be my favorite!” hurriedly clicking play the introduction scene started.
Toji didn't watch movies so as the animation played he wasn't familiar. If anything he was more interested in the plot, kissing a frog to break the curse. He didn't even think of that as an option to break out of this body. As ridiculous as it sounded he was tempted to test the theory.
All he needed to do was wait for his plan to be set in motion.
“Look Jinshi, isn't that so romantic? I was Tiana for 3 years straight for Halloween, maybe I can do it again this year. You can be my Naveen!” you giggled watching the marriage scene unfold.
“Ribbet.”
“I can even get you an outfit if they have that for frogs, would you like that?”
“Ribbet.”
“Okay, I'll stop talking.” The excitement was already boiling as you continued to watch the end of the movie, and by the last 10 minutes, you were out like a light. Snoring lightly on the cushions, the television playing similar movies.
The following days went by as usual but instead of streaming every other night like you would before now you were going out. Coming back hungover or not coming back at all. It was a stark difference from how you were previously, it's not like you were neglecting him, his food came on the regular, and his habitat was cleaned routinely. However, he couldn't help but feel like something was going on.
His suspicions were confirmed when you left earlier in the day dressing up all pretty even curling your hair and leaving out. You mentioned something about “this one might work out,” before leaving but he didn't quite know the context. The lock turned, but there wasn't one voice like usual, rather there were two. Yours he recognised but the other was unfamiliar, a man's voice for sure, his face however, was a little, but he couldn't remember where.
“Mmh- at least wait till we get inside,” you laughed, pulling him down to kiss you further. The man gripped you closer, feeling on your ass molding the fat within his fingers. You yelped as he lifted you from the ground, laying your body on the empty dining room table. He was sure to take his shoes off but they were scattered and not neatly put like the rest. How impatient.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take his eyes off the sight. It was unbearable but when else would he get to see you like this, it only became too much when you started moaning the other man's name. “Jeremiah,” you whined so sweetly.
No way you fucking a guy named Jeremiah. Was this your type, medium men who can't even hold you up for more than a minute? He couldn't watch this anymore, actually, he never wanted to see it again unless it was him enjoying the way your lips moved to say his name.
“Ribbet!” It was a lot louder than any of the other ones he had ever given you. It grabbed your attention immediately, your head snapping in his direction.
“Jinshi I'm sorry, I'll be quiet, okay?” you smiled, it was a little lopsided but with Toji’s presence now aware by the couple. You led Jeremiah to your bedroom. When he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. Insanely so. Jeremiah lasted a total of 2 minutes and 2 seconds, before tapping out. No foreplay, rubbed your clit a little bit, before shoving his dick in. When he finally pulled out, he offered to cum on your stomach but you immediately declined.
If your streams were anything to go off of you were loud, you like to talk. But now you were quiet giving him a few noises, adjacent to sighs. It was a sad listen, you seemed so excited to. Toji could do you so much better. Watching the guy leave high and proud irked the fuck out of Toji— he remembered his face just in case he needed to add him to his shit list when he got out. It was the most pathetic fuck he's ever seen (heard).
Once you shut the door behind the guy making sure it was loud enough to send a message you hurried back to your room and gave yourself what you needed. Fucking yourself on a vibrator, it seemed to do the job. Orgasming within a few minutes, not loud but a lot louder than you were with Jeremiah.
Your mood for the morning after was shitty at best. A scowl was left on your face and you had a straight attitude. Feeding him a few bugs not even flinching when one tried to crawl out, even though they knew not to fuck with you right now. “We are never going to that PetSmart again.” Then it clicked, that's where Toji recognised him. The cashier there, his face was so plain no wonder it didn't ring a bell.
It was pitiable watching you mope around the apartment even wearing shorts, they must have really pissed you off. One thing he also noticed is that when you were done feeding him you didn't close the lip all the way leaving a small gap that he could escape out of.
Making your way back into your room playing a show on your surround sounds probably just letting it become background noise he could hear the slightest sound of you snoring. As much as it sucks to make his grand escape while you were grieving your crush, he had things he needed to do. Yours would be temporary, his condition however may become permanent if he doesn't do something about it.
It was easy getting out, his feet and hands easily gripped onto the glass as he climbed out. It felt weird being out of the cage for so long, it was freeing. This would be his first time coming this far into the home, sneaking under the door into your room where you slept. Approaching your body you had drool spilling out in the corner of your mouth, even ditched the shorts. He had to make this quick if it failed then he was fucked.
Landing on your chin, he brought his mouth to your sleeping one, not much he could really expect to touch lips. He stood there for a minute or so, but nothing happened. He didn't feel any different, no magical sparkles transforming him. Nothing.
He fell on your lower face, and he would be stuck like this. It was hopeless, he would need to get used to listening to you talking about getting fucked or getting fucked for the rest of his life. At least it was free, not a dime coming out of his account- his account. He still didn't get paid, that asshat is running amok thinking Toji let him off scotch free with a free hit.
He was so fucked.
He laughed to himself thinking about how he got himself here. At least it felt nice being skin to skin with you finally, he hates being so slimy all the time, now he got some air to dry up. He was just going to lie there until you realised and would take him back to the tank, maybe you would bring him into your room at some point. Until you started groaning, and struggling underneath him.
“Get off, you're heavy,” you grumbled, still half asleep. Toji obeyed, moving over onto the other side, his body weight making the bed bounce a bit on his side. Wait, body weight! Snapping up, Toji looked at his hands, flesh, veins, and actual fingers. It worked! Quickly grabbing clothing from your drawers, everything being way too small but he couldn't walk out bare naked, he would find himself in a different kind of jail. He really didn't feel like dealing with cops right now either.
The moonlight graced his skin in its glow, and he felt renewed. He was a man on a mission, first, he needed to pay a visit to that geezer who hired him in the first place.
___
10 days
Jinshi has been gone for 10 days now. You've tried searching everywhere for him, but nothing. You were heartbroken, you thought you were finally getting somewhere with him. He was hostile the first few weeks but he eventually started letting you touch him. Now he is gone, maybe forever.
You still kept his food, in hopes he would come back eventually but then you hated having to look at it. All it reminded you of was Jinshi. You could only hope he was doing good, finding happiness elsewhere if it wasn't with you. You hadn't streamed since he left, the vibe just wasn't right and to be honest, you were getting quite bored with your current content. Scrolling through your emails you saw brand offers and product testing but a certain email caught your eye. Another creator was offering to partner with you on each other's streams.
You hadn't thought about having someone else on stream with you, perhaps that's what you needed. The streamer wasn't exactly your type, he reminded you of Jeremiah, fucking bitch. Just thinking about him made you mad, he hyped himself up only to do that shit to you. You thought it was cute how he watched your streams, but it became too much when that was all he talked about. Couldn't even fuck you right. A tried and true, two-pump chump.
It had been even quieter without Jinshi, although he was very quiet, his presence filled the empty space of your large penthouse. It got lonely sometimes, with no one else to talk to you decided perhaps it was time to say hello to your awaiting viewers.
Setting up you only wore a simple tank top and some shorts, nothing dressed up. They want you to take it off anyway, not that you were mad. Going naked in your apartment was normal, you only wore a shirt sometimes because you felt bad for Jinshi having to watch you naked. The stream started up, your regulars coming in fast. Streaming fed your ego graciously making you feel less lonely than you were.
“Hey, did you miss me? Oh, thank you DigimonMaster66 for the 5,000 coins." Some comments were asking how you were doing other more graphic things about wanting you to take your clothes off. “You always know how to make my day!” The guy was a whale spending almost 8 thousand dollars per stream and that doesn't even include private tips and chats. The most was 15 thousand and that was a few months ago when you cosplayed as his favorite digimon on stream. He was truly your favorite, others tried topping him but no one could.
“Oh, welcome SSKiller0T, oh…oh my gosh. Thank you!” Your mood was instantly improved when you received the 20,000 coins, someone knows how to enter a stream. Today you didn't plan on doing anything, just talking, viewers who have seen you before understood, others maybe not.
“Actually I am pretty sad. Jinshi, my frog, ran away. I am just so upset. We were doing so well, and even worse this guy I was talking to couldn't satisfy me.” You were leaning way into this bit, being dramatic enough for your viewers to feel bad. If they were still going to jerk off, you might as well give them a voice to do it with. “You ruined me for everyone else, now I can only get off with you.” That rubbed your viewers the right way because the gifts were coming in, even getting a notification that someone brought an item off your wishlist. If you were going to grieve the loss of your pet then at least you could profit off of it, maybe use it to hire a team to find him.
“SSKiller0T, you're really going in it today. Who knows, if you do good I might add you to my sweethearts list." He was constantly donating, making his presence known. Even your top-gifter was noticing and was trying to “up” him in tips. Who were you to stop friendly competition, all it was doing was filling your pockets.
You let them battle it out while you spoke to your other viewers, asking about them and what they would like to see. Knowing it would most likely be the next stream. All of it was clique stuff, they usually said this stuff. “Actually I was thinking of starting an OnlyFans, so then you guys could see me and not miss a stream. I will still stream but it's good for people who are in a different time zone or working hard for me.” It was just a suggestion but the comments seemed to enjoy the idea immensely. Flooding your comments with yeses.
“Okay then sounds like a deal then, I'll let you go now. I have work to do!” Waving goodbye you need the stream quickly. As expected DigimonMaster66 was your top-gifted but only by 1 coin. How petty. However, the newcomer came a close second. They were 10,000 coins away from breaking your 70,000 coin record. Not too shabby for someone who has joined your stream for the first time. Hopefully, he would be back in the next stream.
Getting to work you spent the next few days filming content for your new OnlyFans. Most of it would be uploaded so you wanted at least a week's worth of content for the page. It felt different not filming in front of an audience, hopefully, they would like the change.
____
You really missed Jinshi, out of habit you would let your presence be known when coming home but there was no one else with you anymore. “Jinshi I'm home!” you said in vain. Sometimes you hoped to see him where you found him on your windowsill. Unfortunately for you, there was a weirdo following you outside the shop, you noticed him in the store following you out. You picked up your pace debating calling an Uber but you didn't want this freak following you. Staying in the busier streets hoping that would deter him but he came up to tap your shoulder.
You yelped in fear, your hand instinctively reaching for the pepper spray. “It's you, I knew you looked familiar but it really is you!” The man looked at you with a relieved look on his face as he grabbed you by the shoulders. Pulling the spray out of your bag you had it almost out till a man came up behind him pulling him away from you.
“Watch the fuck out, loser.” The man was much bigger than the guy who approached you. Pushing him out of the way, he looked between you and the staring passersby he ran away in the opposite direction. “You alright?” your mysterious savior asked, bringing his attention to you.
You nodded, thanking him profusely for helping you. Although you planned on peppering the fuck out of the asshole either method worked. At least one saves you a trip to the police station. He was hot, like really hot. Offering to walk you back home you accepted letting the handsome stranger walk with you home.
Other than his pretty face he wasn't a half bad talker either, listening to you rant about anything. It was nice, and reminded you of your sweet Jinshi. The scar on the corner of his lip garnered your attention making you wonder what could have happened. It was a little sexy, made you wonder what it would feel like on your lips.
His presence was comforting and familiar even though you had never met him before. You're sure you would remember him if you'd met before. When he laughed at your jokes your face would heat up, the arm he had on the small of your back didn't help much either.
At your apartment you expected him to leave at the entrance but he followed you upstairs, maybe you should have stopped him but at your door, you shyly kissed him on the corner of his mouth where his scar was at. You didn't want your interaction to end here. Something about him made you want to invite him in, even if he was a stranger you'd never met before.
No risk, no reward, right?
“You're so tight, baby, no one's treating you like you should, are they?” he cooed fingers curled up inside your walls. Leading him into your apartment you expected him to get straight to business for a quick fuck but after spending so much time running his mouth up and down your body he was being patient.
You shook your head, your back arching off of the bed as the pads of his fingers pressed into the g-spot. Once finding it he didn't leave it alone, pistoning his fingers inside of you at a delicious speed. His palm is flat against your clit making you closer and closer. Bringing his mouth to your nipple, twirling his tongue around the bud. “Doing so good, don't cum just yet,” he ordered taking as much of your tit into his mouth. You nodded a little out of it, all you needed was to cum.
Rolling your hips to meet his fingers, he smelled good. If he is this good at fingering you couldn't wait to get him inside of you, put Jeremiah to shame with his sorry ass. Changing your position he brought you to his lap, your body facing the already set up camera. You don't remember leaving it there, hopefully your guest didn't mind.
“Password?”
“What?” You focused your eyes on his hands opening your laptop, opening it right to your streaming page. “How-” you yelped as his fingers hit that sweet spot again. He repeated himself again, sucking hickies on your neck. Naturally, you rocked your ass against his hard cock, the imprint was big. You wanted it inside.
“I thought you missed me? Don't want to show your viewers your sweet frog anymore?” Like ice dumped on your head, you froze up, snapping your head behind you towards him. He had a smug grin on his face, the scar following his lips.
“What a-are you talking about?” trying to form coherent sentences but it just felt so good. He went on to describe things you only told to the frog going into graphic detail about your daily life, how you talked to him, and how terrible your last hookup went. It was ridiculous, the man with his fingers 6 inches deep inside of you was your pet, your frog that ran away. “That makes no sense.”
“Don't worry about it, we have all the time in the world for that baby,” he said, kissing your cheek, like you were under a trance you shakily typed in your password. The page opened to your dashboard. Navigating to set up for streaming, your camera was connected making it easier to click play. “You read my mind, good job.” he rewarded you by letting you ride up that high you were chasing. Walls clutching around his digits as you came.
“Say hi,” still intoxicated from your orgasm you wave lazily to the camera. The comments were flooded especially with the abrupt stream. Spreading his fingers toward the camera gooey clear fluids coating them, he sucked them dry groaning at the taste.
You exceeded his expectations greatly, all the times he imagined what you would taste like didn't compare to this. It was addictive. It was almost worth being stuck as a frog for a month and a half. Almost worth watching sorry losers jerk off to what they wish they could have. He simply wanted to show them what they would never have. You cried when his hand came down to lightly slap your pussy bringing your attention back to him, the gifts were already coming in. The loud chimes are adding to your arousal.
“You see how wet she got, soaking my pants.” There was a large dark spot where your cunt leaked, the comments were crazy asking for a close-up or begging to edge you. “No, no, she needs to be filled up.” He shook his head, lifting your body so that he could take off his sweatpants. Nodding you pressed a finger to your hole a string of clear fluid followed. Holding you up the tip kissed your clit as he rubbed it across. He was soaking his cock with your lips, you whined each time he missed the entrance dragging out each action.
“Fill me up, please.”
“Toji,” he whispered in your ear, the head of his cock slamming into you. You gasped for air holding onto whatever to keep you grounded. It did take long for him to bottom out. His arms were still holding you up, keeping you from getting all of him. Giving just enough time to adjust he lifted you up thrusting back inside. His calloused finger rubbed your clit making the filthy squelching in the room even louder.
It was too much, drool was starting to fall from your mouth. Unable to close your mouth to be quiet, if your neighbors didn't hear you before they were definitely hearing you now. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, each thrust he would go deep till you could see the faint bulge of his cock poking through your stomach.
“You see that, all me right there,” you screamed when his palm pressed down on it as he continued fucking you dumb. Whatever he did to turn back you wished he had done it earlier, all this time with him and you were missing out on dick like this.
Feeling that familiar coil grow in your core, you kissed Toji's chin, which was soft. Hickies started to bloom in the places you sucked at, leaving your own mark on him. Who knows if he runs away again?
Shattering your body leaned forward your toes curling inwards. “S-slow down.” You bit your lip, his pace didn't slow chasing his own orgasm. You tried to push back but his stronghold on you prevented you from doing so.
“Where ya’ want it?” he gripped your thighs, drawing sweet moans from your throat. His voice was low and raspy, pulling you further into him.
“You did say you needed to fill me up,” you tried holding on feeling another orgasm coming on. “Don't go back on your word.” he let out a low grunt one arm taking both of your legs to hold you up. Grabbing you by the cheeks squishing them roughly, forcing you to look into your laptop and the scene.
You almost forgot about your audience, drowning out the notifications too distracted by Toji.
Slamming you down on his cock he moaned loudly into your neck his seed painting your walls white. Twitching you hadn't even realized you came, the sheets below you thoroughly soaked in your release. Even the laptop screen was wet.
Lifting your head up making you look straight into the camera. Seed leaking onto the sheets, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. “Sorry ass Jeremiah and Digi- whatever the fuck his corny ass name is, wish they had you like this,” he growled stuffing his cock impossibly deeper.
“You do, you do Toji,” you yelped, looking toward the laptop at him, that alone was making him get hard again.
“That's right.” he grinned, biting your neck, there was a red mark, any harder it would've drawn blood. It hurt like a bitch but somehow you didn't mind it. Even after insulting your top gifter, a tip came in from DigimonMaster66. “You don't remember your manners now?”
“Thank you, D-DigimonMaster66!”
“That's my girl, now bend over, gotta make up for all those times you teased me.”
Roughly pushing your head into the mattress with an oof, not one did his cock leave your insides. Sucking him back in each time his hips even threatened to leave you. In your bliss, you didn't hear him say something to you earning a hard slap on the ass.
His hand left a red handprint on your left ass cheek, burning substantially. “You like that?”
Slap!
“Don't just nod, let me hear you.”
“Yes,” you choked out your hands reaching for the edge of the bed for balance. The sheet was starting to come off, not giving you much grip on it. “I love it!”
Rubbing his hand up your spine, feeling each ridge. Toji pulled out, cock wet in your mixed fluids, he rubbed it against your ass smearing the liquids. Your hole clenched around nothing, the loss of his dick making you whine. Arching your back deeper, looking back at him, he was admiring his work. Marveling at your wrecked hole.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer-” pulling you by the hair, so your face was in frame. He was too tall so it only showed his traps and below. Thrusting back into you, not giving you a chance to breathe. His thrusts were hard, the skin to skin echoing throughout the room. The force rocked your body forward.
“Fuckin- attitude.” Letting your hair go you tried pulling back from his hips but he grabbed your neck. Similar to a warning his hand only sat that daring you, ‘run from it and watch what happens.’ Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, it was all so much. You would have never thought Toji would be so rough in bed, maybe it was your punishment for bringing another man over. To be fair you thought he was just a really cute frog, not a really hot guy who happened to be turned into a frog.
“Smart ass mouth of yours, suck.” Opening your mouth wide he stuck two on his fingers in your mouth. Mimicking how you would around his cock you took them as deep as he would allow. He groaned, throwing his head slightly back as you moaned around his digits. “Eyes up, princess.”
Looking back at the camera, you were sure you looked a mess, much different than how you started earlier. Tear-stained cheeks, running mascara, hair messy from his rough handling, and lip-bitten lips. Your audience was loving it though, probably the most wrecked they have ever seen you. “Oh- don't stop, yes there, oh my god.” You cried his fingers releasing from your mouth to let you breathe. His balls slapping at your clit, was the perfect combination to your euphoria.
His grip on your throat tightened, restricting some of your airway, and your eyes were starting to roll back no matter how much you tried to keep your eyes on the camera. It was too good, you felt like you were losing your mind.
Your body jerked instinctively pulling away from cock when you came, it earned you a slap on the ass making you cum even harder. “T-toji, too much,” you begged in choked sobs. Your pussy was becoming numb and the constant stimulation was overwhelming.
“I'm almost there, hold on just a bit longer,” he said sweetly, removing his hand from your throat to your hips. His controlled thrusts turned erratic as he chased his orgasm, you were definitely going to have bruises by the morning but they would be so worth it.
With a loud groan, he came inside you. He stayed inside for a moment before pulling out, cum dripping out of your hole. You shivered at the sensation, your knees were starting to give out so you lay flat on your stomach.
Rubbing on the globes of your ass, you could feel Toji getting hard, again?! What the hell is with his stamina? Still catching your breath you turned over a bit to look at him, ugh he was so sexy.
“Give me a minute,” your refractory period wasn't that long but you still needed a moment to get feeling back in your lower half.
“Take your time, like I said we have all the time in the world.”
in which Dr. Grace uses the wrong vocabulary, and the Hail Mary gets a lot hotter
part one - part two
word count: 2,9k
requests are open!
The vast, endless expanse of interstellar space was, frankly, a little monotonous.
When you first boarded the Hail Mary, the sheer, existential terror of the mission had been enough to keep your adrenaline spiking every hour of the day since you woke up. You were on a one-way trip to Tau Ceti, carrying the weight of the entire human race on your shoulders, surrounded by technology that was experimental at best and completely suicidal at worst. For the first few months, every creak of the hull, every fluctuation in the life support systems, and every minor error code on the monitors had felt like a harbinger of imminent death.
But the human brain is remarkably adaptable. After millions of miles, the terrifying isolation of the cosmos had slowly morphed into a strange, domestic routine. You knew the exact, comforting hum of the centrifuge spin drive. You recognized the faint, metallic scent of the air scrubbers working overtime. And, perhaps most dangerously, you had memorized the exact way Dr. Ryland Grace’s brow furrowed when he was lost in a complex mathematical equation.
Living in a tin can hurtling through the dark abyss of space meant that personal boundaries were a luxury you had both abandoned long ago. You had learned to navigate around each other in the cramped, utilitarian quarters of the ship, sharing unappetizing nutrient paste rations, recalibrating the atmospheric controls shoulder-to-shoulder, and existing in a constant, comfortable proximity that would have felt suffocating back on Earth.
But out here, with only each other - and an incredibly intelligent, five-legged alien space spider - for company, that proximity was the only thing keeping you sane. Ryland was brilliant, relentlessly optimistic, and possessed a deeply ingrained, nerdy charm that made the crushing weight of the mission feel survivable. He was a good man.
Lately, however, that comfortable proximity had started to feel a lot heavier. The accidental brushes of his arm against yours in the laboratory, the way he looked at you when you managed to decipher a new string of Eridanian vocabulary, the warmth of his presence when you were both exhausted and staring out at the uncaring void - it was all beginning to build a quiet, simmering tension in the pit of your stomach.
Currently, that tension was being tested as you sat strapped securely into the pilot’s seat in the main control room, running manual astrogation drills.
The ship’s automated systems were robust, but Eva Stratt’s paranoia had dictated that every single crew member know how to fly the Hail Mary in the event of a catastrophic computer failure. Well, except the two of you. You were scientists, not pilots. The dizzying arrays of vectors, velocities, and orbital mechanics were entirely outside your wheelhouse. But Ryland, ever the patient educator, had taken it upon himself to teach you - in theory, that was. You liked to consider the both of you as clueless as any other human down on Earth.
"Okay, let's run through the parameters one more time," Ryland said.
He was hovering just over your left shoulder, anchored to the hard plastic back of your pilot's chair in the zero-gravity environment of the control cabin. Because there was no 'up' or 'down' without the centrifuge spinning, he was floating at a slight angle, perfectly relaxed in the weightlessness.
"If I want to adjust our attitude to point exactly at that specific star cluster in the Tau Ceti system," you murmured, keeping your eyes locked strictly on the glowing telemetry screen in front of you. You raised your hands, hovering them over the manual thruster controls. "I can't just fire the port thruster like I'm turning a steering wheel."
"Right. Why?" Ryland prompted. His voice was close. Close enough that you could feel the ambient heat radiating off his standard-issue jumpsuit, a stark contrast to the slightly chilly, sterile air of the cabin.
"Because of Newton's First Law," you replied, reciting the lessons he had been drilling into your head for the past three weeks. "An object in motion stays in motion. In the vacuum of space, there is zero atmospheric friction to slow down the spin. If I fire the port thruster, the ship will just keep spinning along that axis forever, or until we make ourselves incredibly dizzy."
"Exactly," Ryland beamed. The pride in his voice was palpable, vibrating right near your ear. "You are your own friction. You have to be your own brakes."
You swallowed hard, forcing your focus away from the warmth of his arm, which was currently hovering a mere millimeter away from the shoulder of your flight suit, and forced your brain back to the math. "So, I fire the port thruster to initiate the turn, let the momentum carry our mass, and then I have to counter-fire the starboard thruster at the exact right millisecond to arrest the momentum and lock us into the new trajectory."
"That's the theory. Now let's see the application," Ryland encouraged softly. He was watching your hands over the console, entirely focused on your progress.
You let out a slow, steadying breath. You disabled the autopilot interlocks, the console flashing a brief yellow warning before yielding full manual control to your joysticks.
"Alright. Manual control engaged. Firing port attitude thruster for zero-point-two seconds... now."
You tapped the left control stick. The ship didn't shudder - the attitude thrusters were too small to feel inside the massive hull - but the starfield out the reinforced viewport slowly, lazily began to drift to the right. It was a dizzying sensation, watching the universe spin around you while you sat perfectly still.
You glued your eyes to the digital degree marker on the main astrogation display. It ticked up with agonizing slowness. Ten degrees. Fifteen degrees. Twenty degrees.
"Wait for it," Ryland coaxed.
He leaned in a fraction closer to check the monitor over your shoulder. You could faintly smell the sterile, unscented ship soap they provided in the washroom, mixed with the distinct, warm scent that was just fundamentally him. It was intoxicating in a way it had absolutely no right to be. His presence was a massive, grounding anchor in the middle of nowhere.
"Twenty-eight... thirty-two..." you counted aloud, your fingers tensing over the starboard control stick. Your heart was thumping a rapid rhythm against your ribs. If you overshot the counter-burn, you'd have to waste precious fuel correcting the wobble.
You tapped the starboard control with as much precision as you could muster.
Out the viewport, the spinning starfield instantly stopped drifting. The sudden halt was almost jarring to the eyes. The nose of the Hail Mary locked into absolute stillness. You checked the telemetry screen. The digital crosshairs were sitting exactly on top of the coordinates you had calculated. Dead center. Zero drift. Zero wobble.
"Yes!" Ryland cheered.
In a completely natural, unfiltered burst of scientific triumph and pride, he shifted his grip.
His large hand moved from the hard plastic back of the pilot's chair to rest warmly and firmly on the curve of your shoulder. His thumb pressed right into the dip of your collarbone through the fabric of your jumpsuit, an anchoring, heavy weight in the zero gravity. He leaned down, his face dipping into your peripheral vision, his cheek almost brushing yours as he grinned at the perfect alignment on the screen.
"Perfect pitch and yaw," he praised.
The sheer, relieved approval stripped away his usual nervous, rapid-fire energy. His voice dropped an octave, settling into a low, breathless rumble that vibrated right through the shell of your ear.
"Textbook execution. Good girl."
The ambient, ever-present hum of the ship’s life support systems seemed to vanish entirely from your awareness.
The praise had slipped out of him on pure, unadulterated instinct. It was a leftover relic from his previous life, from his days of leaning over lab tables, grading middle school science fair projects, and offering gentle, authoritative encouragement to students who finally figured out how to balance a chemical equation.
But floating in a tiny cabin in the dark abyss of space, millions of miles away from any school or civilization... it didn't sound like a teacher.
Delivered with the heavy, possessive weight of his hand on your collarbone, the close proximity of his body, and the low, rough timbre of his voice, it sounded like something else entirely.
It sent a searing, electric jolt straight down your spine, pooling hot and heavy in your stomach. Your breath hitched audibly in the dead quiet of the cabin. Your hands froze over the manual controls, your fingers curling inward. Every single nerve ending in your shoulder seemed to hyper-focus on the exact shape and heat of his hand gripping you.
It took Ryland Grace exactly one and a half seconds to hear the echo of his own words replay in his brilliant, analytical brain.
"Oh, my gosh," he gasped.
He yanked his hand off your shoulder as if your flight suit had just been doused in liquid nitrogen. In his sudden, blind, overwhelming panic, the man completely forgot the very laws of physics he had just spent half an hour teaching you.
He pushed back away from you with entirely too much force. Without any gravity to anchor him, the violent push launched him backward across the control room. He flailed wildly, his arms windmilling in the air as he sailed across the cabin, completely out of control, until his back slammed into the main science console with a loud, painful thump.
You spun around in your chair, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, entirely unsure if you should be concerned for his safety or absolutely entirely amused by his panic.
The brilliant, world-saving biologist - the man who had figured out how to harness alien microbes for interstellar travel - was currently tangled in his own zero-G socks, gripping the edge of the metal console for dear life. A furious, agonizing, painfully bright red blush was crawling so fast up his neck that his ears practically looked radioactive.
"I- I didn't mean-" Ryland stammered.
His eyes were wide, round, and completely horrified behind the lenses of his glasses. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air in front of him, fingers twitching, as if he didn't know what to do with his own limbs anymore.
"My brain just- it cross-wired!" he blurted out, his voice cracking horribly. "I was looking at the telemetry and I was just so proud of the math, and my brain just reverted to grading eighth-grade science fairs! I swear on my life, I swear to gosh, I do not think of you as a seventh grader! That was incredibly inappropriate, I am so, so sorry, I didn't mean it like- I didn't mean to sound-"
He was rambling at the speed of light, his chest heaving under his jumpsuit as he hyperventilated.
But despite his absolute mortification, despite his frantic attempts to rationalize the slip of the tongue as a simple, harmless pedagogical error... the tension in the room had irreversibly shifted.
It was thick. It was electric. You could practically cut it with a scalpel.
He was panicking precisely because he was suddenly, acutely, and overwhelmingly aware of the fact that you were definitely not one of his students. The realization was hitting him like a freight train, crashing through the comfortable, platonic barriers he had built around himself for the duration of this mission. As he stared at you from across the room, his eyes darted nervously from your gaze, down to your slightly parted lips, down to the curve of your throat, and quickly back up to the ceiling ceiling panels, swallowing hard enough that you could see the apple of his throat bob from across the room.
You bit down hard on your lower lip, trying desperately to suppress the smile that was threatening to break across your face. Your own cheeks were burning hot, a flush that you knew matched his completely. You could still feel the physical ghost of his thumb pressing into your collarbone.
"Ryland, breathe," you managed to say. You tried to sound reassuring, but your voice came out a little softer, a little huskier than usual, betraying the fact that the slip-up had affected you just as much as it had horrified him. "It's fine. Really. I know what you meant-"
Thump.
A soft, hollow impact echoed in the cabin, cutting off your reassurance.
A large, perfectly clear, pressurized sphere of xenonite drifted lazily through the open doorway of the control room, gently bumping against the upper doorframe before floating into the space between you and Ryland.
Rocky was inside his custom-built bubble. The Eridanian engineer had likely been in his workshop, heard the loud crash of Ryland slamming into the science console, and pushed himself down the zero-gravity corridor to investigate the commotion.
"Observation. Human female face is red. Internal temperature elevated."
The deadpan, entirely emotionless robotic monotone of Ryland’s custom translation program filled the room instantly. Because the software was completely hardwired to intercept Rocky’s frequencies and translate them in real-time, there were no musical chords to soften the blow - just the immediate, blunt observation echoing from the laptop speakers strapped to the console.
Ryland groaned, a sound of pure, unadulterated suffering. He let go of the console and pressed both hands over his flaming face, hiding behind his fingers.
"Oh, heck," Ryland muffled into his palms. "Please. Kill me now. Just vent the airlock and put me out of my misery."
Inside the floating sphere, Rocky shifted. His carapace scraped slightly against the xenonite, his five little articulated legs tapping a rapid, curious rhythm against the clear wall of his bubble. He was a scientist at heart, and a new, unexplained biological phenomenon was entirely too fascinating to ignore.
The laptop speakers instantly spoke again, delivering the translation with zero tact.
"Query. Grace also turning red. Heart rates for both humans are currently fast. Biometric sensors indicate endocrine systems are actively producing large amounts of adrenaline, cortisol, and oxytocin."
Rocky’s bubble slowly rotated in the zero gravity, his eyeless carapace seemingly tracking between the two of you.
"Are humans in physical danger, question? Or is this typical Earth mating behavior, question? Please explain."
"It's not mating behavior!" Ryland yelped, dropping his hands from his face.
His voice was an octave higher than normal, bordering on hysterical. He pointed an accusatory finger at the floating glass ball, looking like a man who was fighting for his life against his own ship's computer.
"It was a linguistic error! A vocabulary slip! I used a colloquial phrase in the wrong context and triggered an inappropriate psychological response! Rocky, I swear to gosh, turn off the biological monitors right now! Stop looking at our oxytocin levels!"
Inside the sphere, Rocky tapped a few more times.
"Linguistic error causes mating response, question?" the robotic voice stated deadpan. The xenonite ball slowly bounced off a wall panel, lazily drifting back toward the center of the room. "Earth biology remains highly confusing. I will take notes for future reference."
You finally let out a shaky laugh. You couldn't hold it in anymore. The sheer absurdity of the situation - arguing about mating responses and oxytocin levels with a highly intelligent, incredibly blunt alien space spider who was rolling around in a hamster ball - was exactly what you needed to break the suffocating, heavy sexual tension that had gripped the room.
You unbuckled your complex pilot's harness, the straps floating away from your shoulders. With a gentle, practiced push against the footrests, you floated up and out of the pilot's seat, letting the zero gravity carry your momentum smoothly across the small room.
Ryland watched you approach. He looked entirely paralyzed, his back pressed flat against the science console. His eyes tracked your every movement, the dark rings around his pupils blown wide, the furious blush on his face stubbornly refusing to fade.
You reached out and caught the edge of the science console, arresting your momentum and stopping just a few inches away from where Ryland was currently trying to merge his molecular structure with the bulkhead. Up this close, you could see the rapid pulse beating at the base of his throat. You could feel the heat radiating off him again.
He looked up at you, his breath catching audibly in his chest for a second time.
"I'm going to go to the galley and get a drink of water," you said softly, holding his panicked, entirely captivated gaze.
You let a slow, deliberate, teasing smirk tug at the corner of your mouth. You didn't back down from the proximity. Instead, you let the silence stretch for just a second longer than necessary, letting him sweat it out.
"But you know..." you added, leaning in just a fraction of an inch closer, dropping your voice. "My astrogation is getting pretty good."
Ryland swallowed, his eyes darting to your lips. "It... it is. Yes."
"So," you whispered, pushing off the console to slowly float backward toward the open doorway, "I expect you to keep up the positive reinforcement, Dr. Grace."
Ryland made a sound that was half-choke, half-squeak. His hands gripped the metal edge of the console so tightly his knuckles turned completely white.
Satisfied, you turned in the air and floated gracefully out of the control room, heading down the corridor toward the galley. You left the brilliant, awkward microbiologist completely flustered, entirely speechless, and very, very red as Rocky’s clear glass bubble lazily drifted past his head, the laptop speakers chiming one last time.
"Observation. Human female has retreated. Mating ritual concluded?"
tyrant 𖦹⸝⸝ ⋆˚₊⋆✶ | “i got that exotic, hips are so hypnotic.”
teacher!ryland x office siren!teacher!fem!reader
—strangers to friends, to a little more than friends.
THE first thing ryland notices about you is that you don’t belong in a school. that sounds rude, but he doesn’t mean it rudely. he means that the rest of the faculty look like teachers. comfortable cardigans, sensible shoes, coffee stains, and stress.
you look like somebody accidentally took a wrong turn on the way to a magazine photoshoot and somehow ended up teaching english literature, or history, or art.
honestly ryland doesn’t know what you teach for the first week because every time he sees you his brain experiences a temporary power outage. which is particularly embarrassing because he’s supposed to be a science teacher.
science requires thinking, and thinking becomes difficult around you.
the first time he sees you is during a faculty meeting. he arrives just a minute late, which isn’t unusual. he’s carrying three folders, a coffee, several worksheets and what appears to be a small dinosaur skeleton. the skeleton is unrelated …probably.
he’s halfway through apologising for being late when he notices you sitting across the room, and immediately walks directly into a chair. hard.
the room goes silent while ryland nearly drops everything. the coffee survives, but his dignity does not.
you immediately stand and rush over to him, grabbing his coffee and folders, “are you okay?” you ask, you sound genuinely concerned.
meanwhile ryland is staring at the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen while actively recovering from blunt force trauma.
“i’m .. fine.”
he is not fine. he hasn’t been fine since approximately three seconds ago.
afterwards he learns your name, which turns out to be a terrible mistake because now he has something specific to think about. before, you were just attractive mystery teacher, now you’re attractive mystery teacher with a name.
a laugh, a classroom, a favourite coffee order, all information he acquires entirely by accident.
probably.
the problem is that you’re friendly. overly friendly. the sort of person who remembers everybody’s name within two weeks. the sort of person who says good morning to custodians.
the sort of person who asks people how they’re doing and genuinely waits for the answer. which means you treat ryland exactly the same way.
and unfortunately that makes everything worse.
had you been intimidating, he would’ve had a reason to keep his distance. had you been rude, he would’ve had a reason to hate you. but you’re sweet, and genuinely nice to everyone.
every morning starts the same way, “morning, ryland.” you smile, and ryland forgets approximately twenty nine years of human interaction. “morning.” then he spends the next ten minutes wondering whether that response sounded normal. it never does.
the rest of the staff notice immediately, because of course they do. teachers are basically professional gossipers. give them enough coffee and they’ll develop surveillance capabilities.
the hot history teacher and the nerdy science teacher? come on.
they notice that ryland somehow appears wherever you are. definitely not intentionally, at least not consciously. he’s just … always nearby.
if you’re in the staff room, ryland eventually appears. if you’re supervising lunch duty, ryland somehow ends up assigned nearby. if you’re walking through the corridor, ryland suddenly remembers he has somewhere to be in that exact direction.
he doesn’t realise he’s doing it, but everybody else does. meanwhile you’re completely oblivious. which somehow makes the situation funnier.
the thing that really destroys him is your wardrobe, not because you are dressing inappropriately. no where near. you’re a teacher, you dress professionally.
the problem is that you’re one of those people who could wear a paper bag and somehow make it look expensive. every outfit is immaculate. tailored trousers, elegant blouses, fitted skirts, heels clicking softly against the floor, jewellery, perfect hair. the whole thing feels deeply unfair.
one monday morning you arrive wearing a white button up blouse, a fitted, black knee length skirt, black tights and heels. simple. professional. completely acceptable workplace attire. ryland sees you crossing the car park, then walks into a recycling bin for the second time that week.
his students start noticing too, which is arguably worse.
“mr grace?”
“yes?”
“are you listening?”
he looks up, the entire classroom is staring. “uh.. of course.”
a student points towards the window, you happen to be walking across the courtyard. the class collectively groans. “guys, it’s his teacher crush again.” ryland immediately chokes on air.
“i don’t have a crush!” he quickly says, fixing his glasses, but his kids looking at each other like they can’t believe a word he says. “yeah, yeah, whatever.” one students rolls his eyes, they never let him recover.
the worst part is that you accidentally make everything harder because you’re tactile. not excessively, just naturally. if you’re laughing, you’ll touch somebody’s arm. if you’re thanking somebody, you’ll squeeze their shoulder. normal behaviour that’s perfectly innocent. except every time you touch ryland, he experiences complete system failure.
one afternoon you stop by his classroom to return a book. he’s sitting at his desk grading papers. you walk over, lean down slightly to place the book beside him, and then lightly touch his shoulder.
“thanks again.” you smile, gently squeezing his shoulder before you leave.
ryland spends five minutes staring at the wall, before one of his students walks in.
“you okay?”
“absolutely.”
he is visibly not okay.
the real problem is that you genuinely like him, not romantically, not yet. you just enjoy his company. because ryland is funny, he doesn’t mean to be, but he is. he gets excited about random facts, he tells stories with his entire body, he’ll start explaining something simple and somehow end up drawing diagrams on napkins. you find him charming, adorable even, so naturally you seek him out.
you sit beside him during staff meetings, you save him seats, you bring him coffee when you’re already making a run, you stop by his classroom, you ask about his day, all completely innocent, all absolutely devastating.
there’s one afternoon where you accidentally corner him in the staff room, not literally, you just start talking, asking about one of his science projects.
ryland launches into an explanation, because of course he does. suddenly he’s describing bacteria, then ecosystems, then space, then trees, then space again. twenty minutes later he’s still talking. you haven’t left. that’s the thing that gets him. most people leave, politely excusing themselves. you don’t.
you’re still standing there listening, smiling, asking questions, actually interested.
and for a moment ryland forgets you’re beautiful, which sounds strange, but it’s true, because he’s just enjoying the conversation, enjoying being around you. enjoying the fact that somebody genuinely wants to hear what he has to say.
that’s when the crush becomes hazardous, because attraction is one thing. attraction passes. liking somebody? that’s a problem.
soon he’s looking forward to seeing you, looking for your car in the morning, checking whether your classroom lights are on, saving funny stories to tell you later, finding reasons to stop by your room.
he becomes that man, the man with a crush. everybody knows, literally everybody. the principal knows, the office staff knows, the janitors know, half the student body probably knows.
you remain completely unaware. until one afternoon, school has ended. the corridors are quiet, most people have gone home. you’re struggling to carry several boxes of supplies back to your classroom, before you can even properly lift them, a familiar voice appears behind you.
“here.”
ryland is already taking half the boxes. “you didn’t have to do that.”
“i know.” he smiles a small, nervous, yet still warm smile, glasses a little crooked. “i wanted to.” and something about the way he says it makes you pause, because suddenly you’re noticing things. the way he looks without his usual blazers, biceps flexing under his polo shirt. just how bright his blue eyes are, how cute his slightly messy hair looks.
the way he always helps, the way he’s always around, the way his face brightens whenever he sees you, the way he listens, the way he remembers things, the way he never makes you feel like too much. for months you’d thought ryland was simply kind, then you realise. yes, he is kind. but maybe that’s not the whole story.
and as you walk beside him through the empty corridor, listening to him ramble about something scientific while carrying your boxes, you find yourself smiling.
because for the first time, you begin wondering whether the sweet, awkward science teacher with the hopeless crush might not be the only one falling.
that then become his things, helping you carry anything regardless of its weight. could be your bag, your coffee, books, anything. on a different day, he was helping you carry more boxes to your classroom.
“are you sure these aren’t too heavy?” you ask as you glanced over as the two of you walked down the corridor.
it was late afternoon. classes had finished for the day. the building was quiet except for the occasional distant sound of somebody locking up a classroom.
ryland adjusted the stack of boxes in his arms. “no, these are fine.” which was true, they were reasonably heavy, but he was strong. he was absolutely willing to suffer minor spinal damage if it meant spending another ten minutes talking to you.
you looked impressed, which should have been harmless, should have. instead you tilted your head slightly and smiled. that smile. the one that always made him forget basic english.
“oh, wow, mr grace.”
ryland immediately knew he was in danger, “what?”
you glanced at the boxes, then at him, then back at the boxes. “you’re so strong.” his foot caught on absolutely nothing, he stumbled, then barely recovered.
you bit your lip, clearly trying not to laugh. “you okay?”
“yep.” his voice cracked. fantastic. he hoped the earth would open beneath him, you somehow looked even more delighted.
“that’s impressive.”
“what is?”
“carrying all those.” you gestured towards the boxes. “i would’ve thought a science teacher would’ve spent all day reading books and looking at lesson plans.”
ryland laughed nervously. “that’s not really—”
“look at those muscles.”
he nearly dropped everything. “what?”
“i’m just saying,” your eyes travelled over his arms for a second, far too casually. “i didn’t know we had superman on staff.” ryland stopped walking entirely, and the boxes shifted, he adjusted them quickly. his face felt approximately six thousand degrees. you were definitely enjoying this. he could tell.
you looked completely innocent, like you had no idea what you were doing, which was a lie, you knew exactly what you were doing.
“you know,” you continued thoughtfully, “i should probably ask for your help more often.”
“why?”
“well.” you smiled. “it’s nice having a handsome man carry things for me.”
there was a very long silence, ryland stared ahead, the corridor blurred slightly. he wasn’t sure if that was medically concerning. “handsome?” he repeated weakly.
you blinked. “well, yes.” like it was obvious. like everybody on earth agreed. “you didn’t know?”
ryland was completely flustered, “i—”
“oh no.” your hand flew dramatically to your chest. “have i accidentally revealed groundbreaking information?”
he couldn’t even look at you, which only made it worse because now you were laughing. not cruelly, just fondly. his reactions were your favourite thing in the world. “you’re blushing.”
“i’m not!”
“you absolutely are.”
“it’s warm!”
you looked around the empty corridor. “it’s november.”
“well,” he cleared his throat. “people run at different temperatures.” you laughed so hard you had to lean against the wall. that made things worse, because ryland loved making you laugh. which meant every embarrassing moment became a horrible cycle, you teased him, he got flustered, you laughed, he fell even more in love.
it was a deeply unsustainable system, the two of you resumed walking. you were still smiling, ryland was still trying to recover, he was failing.
“for what it’s worth,” your voice was softer now, he glanced over, you were looking at him, really looking at him, and suddenly he couldn’t remember what you’d been talking about. “i mean it.”
“mean what?”
“the handsome thing.”
oh.
oh no.
there it was again.
that smile. the one that made him feel sixteen years old.
the one that completely dismantled every functioning thought in his head.
you shrugged. “you’re cute.” ryland almost walked directly into a classroom door. you physically grabbed his arm before he could. “careful there, mr grace.” he looked down at your hand, then at you. then immediately away again, because he was blushing so hard.
of course you noticed.
your smile softened, the teasing disappeared slightly, replaced by something gentler. “you’re adorable.”
“please stop.”
you laughed, “why?”
“because!” he adjusted the boxes again, desperately trying to focus on literally anything else. “you keep saying things.”
“what kind of things?”
“those kinds of things.”
“compliments?”
he groaned, and you laughed again, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. and despite the fact that he was currently experiencing the most intense embarrassment of his life, ryland found himself smiling too.
this was the problem, you could tease him mercilessly, make him blush, make him stumble over his words, make him forget how sentences worked, and somehow he’d still happily carry every box in the school if it meant spending another afternoon walking beside you.
when you finally reached your classroom, he set the supplies down on one of the desks with a relieved sigh. “there.”
“thank you.”
“you’re welcome.”
for a moment neither of you moved, the late afternoon sunlight spilled through the classroom windows.
everything felt strangely quiet.
you stepped closer, just slightly. enough that ryland immediately forgot how breathing worked again. “you know,” your voice was softer now. “i think it’s cute.”
“what is?”
“how flustered you get.”
ryland closed his eyes briefly, as if that might somehow help. it did not. when he opened them again, you were smiling at him. fond and beautiful.
“i really have to stop helping you carry things.”
you grinned, “you say that now.”
“i mean it.”
“sure you do.”
“i do.”
“see you tomorrow, ryland.”
he stared at you for a second, completely defeated, then smiled despite himself.
“yeah,” his voice came out softer than intended. “see you tomorrow.” and the worst part was that the second he left the room, he was smiling like an idiot, cheeks as red as ripe cherries. he’s already looking forward to tomorrow.
every night it waits for you to fall asleep, then it crawls out from its hiding place and slithers onto the bed with you. it injects a venom that keeps you firmly asleep, then it fucks you for as long as it feels like. once its done with you, it creeps back below, where you can never find it
the venom wears off after 8 hours, leaving you well rested. you always wake up a mess and never know why.
MDNI/18+ only, nipple sucking
Roommate!Gojo x fem!reader
The heat is getting to you—it has been getting to you, but just yesterday you had AC to survive this horrible, horrible weather. Now that fuckass thing is broken and you have to sit here in the heat, sweating your ass off.
You’ve already put your hair up and away from your neck, a cold bottle of water being currently pressed against your skin, helping you cool down slightly.
It doesn’t work, though. Sure, it’s a nice respite, for two second, before another wave of absolute heat makes you sweat even more. Groaning, you close your eyes.
Satoru walks into the living room, where he sees you sit. A bottle of water awkwardly held against your overheating skin, little droplets of water and sweat beading down your neck. Not just your neck, but your entire body is covered in a sheen of sweat, glistening in low light.
A droplet of sweat beads down from your chin all the way to the valley of your breast, disappearing where he can’t see.
Fuck. Of course you would wear minimal clothing with this heat—just a small tank top, which has your tits almost spill over, and the shortest shorts known to mankind—but it just overheats him more.
Pushing his white locks from his forehead, he walks over to where the AC isn’t blasting.
“Please tell me you can fix it,” you groan from the couch, opening an eye to see your roommate look at the AC with a frown on his face. Sweat is beading down his temple as he stretches, giving the thing a quick tap—as if that would do anything.
There’s a faint reply from him, but you aren’t even listening anymore. While he’s trying to work on the AC—arms outstretched, muscles flexing, more sweat dripping sinfully down his body—his shirt has ridden up just enough for you to see that V-line and a portion of his abs.
Licking your lips, you let your eyes linger for a second longer, giving him some hums in reply to what he’s saying.
Sure, you’ve seen Gojo walk around without a shirt many times, but that doesn’t mean you get tired of the sight. It’s not like you normally get to have a good look. If your eyes so much as wandered down his chest, he would give you a small smirk, subtly flexing his abs, before you turned around with a scoff.
He’s hot, so what? And now he also has it hot, sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to the outline of his body. Maybe he should just take it off. To battle the heat, of course, nothing else!
Your mouth is getting parched by now. And just in time, too, because Gojo turns around with a pout on his face, lower lip jutted out dramatically. “Can’t get it to work.”
“That’s because you can’t get anything to work,” you grumble before taking a sip of your cold water that has warmed up by your skin slightly. Still, the cool water slides down your throat, a little bit spilling from the corner of your mouth, trailing down your neck, leaving behind a wet trail of goosebumps.
Suddenly, Gojo leans into your personal space. The heat of his body is unbearable right now, but you can’t lean away any further, the couch behind you preventing it from happening.
Before you can even say anything, his tongue darts out of his mouth and onto your neck. He licks a broad stripe up your neck where the water trailed down—no doubt tasting all the salty sweat as well—and even onto your chin, before he leans back slightly with a small smile on his face.
“What the fuck, Gojo?! Why would you do that??” you grumble, swiping your hand over your neck which is all wet with saliva now. It’s honestly not a nice feeling, especially with this heat, and it makes you all the more cranky.
“What? I’m sweating too, and we can’t let any of the cool water go to waste!” he easily replies, still leaning in way too close. There’s a hint of amusement visible in his eyes as he looks at your bottle of water before his eyes trail down your neck again, licking his lips when they trail even lower, having a perfect view of your boobs now.
“Just because we’re in a heatwave doesn’t mean we don’t have any cool water. Wasting one drop of it wouldn’t mean we’d die. There’s plenty more in the fridge, so get your lanky ass up and get yourself some.” You end the sentence with bringing the bottle up to your lips again.
Wrong choice.
One of Gojo’s large hands wraps itself around yours, and squeezes. The water that was supposed to go into your mouth is now everywhere—your face, neck, chest, legs and onto the couch.
“Oops. Sorry, it just looked like you were feeling a bit hot, so I was trying to help you cool down—” his words trail off when he looks down. Your tank is now clinging to your body, nipples hard because of the cold liquid seeping into the fabric. And what a fucking sight it is. “But my mom always said I should clean up my own mess.”
His lips descend onto your chest, slurping some of the water that’s still on the hollow of your throat. Gasping out, one of your hands find the back of his head, fingers tangling in his white locks that are absolutely soaked with sweat.
He peppers some kisses onto your skin, tongue occasionally flicking against your skin as he looks up at you with those bright blue eyes of his.
Biting down onto your lower lip, you look down at your roommate now situated between your legs as he absolutely laps you up. You wouldn’t have guessed this actually happen in even your wildest dreams. Sure there have been some where he was in, but even your mind kept cock-blocking you.
Hovering just before your your nipple, he looks up for permission. Giving him a small nod, he surges forward, lips wrapping around the hardened peak through the fabric, absolutely sucking and biting on it.
Moaning, you arch your back for him, hand pushing him further into your chest. His tongue circles around the bud a few times before he sucks again, a wet slurp of which you have no doubt also makes his entire fill with water and sweat, that was seeped into your top.
Your other hand tightens around the bottle of water. The crinkling of it has you snap your eyes to it, and a small smirk immediately stretches your lips.
There’s still a bit of water left in the thing, and without thinking too much about it, you pour the remained down Gojo’s back. The liquid drenching his shirt, the white fabric becoming transparent, clinging to his back muscles.
He gasps as he jolts slightly. Detaching his lips from your chest, he looks at you with wide eyes. “Oops.” you do not sound sorry for even a little bit. “Maybe you should take that off.”
Huffing a laugh through his nose, he shakes his head a little, but easily complies. His hands find the hem of his shirt, and he slowly takes it off. Taking his time with it, you let your eyes wander once more—his abs now fully uncovered, strong biceps flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head, and of course his back rippling with the motion.
Tossing the shirt somewhere into the living room, he notes the way your eyes wander. Smirking he slowly leans forward again, lips trailing wet kisses all the way from your pretty tits all the way to your cheek.
Just as his lips hover centimeters from yours— BZZZTTT. The intercom rings through the apartment, making the two of you look over to the tiny box hanging near the door. “I’m here to fix the AC.”
you were going to be late for work. not because you woke up late. not because you took too long in the shower and not because you were doom scrolling in bed and lost track of time.
you were going to be late because your husband, satoru, just couldn't seem to let you go. you found it cute at first, him begging you not to go and whining when you say no, but the act was getting boring especially because you were standing at the door, trapped in his arms for the last twenty minutes.
"for the last time, 'toru. i have to go", he only shook his head and pulled you impossibly closer against him.
"you don't have to work...i make enough for the both of us...you can stay home with me...you should stay home with me", satoru whispered into your ear, nuzzling his face against your neck, inhaling your scent.
"i actually like my job. i know you can pay for everything, but i also want to treat myself sometimes". satoru looked at you like you'd grown two heads. he looked you up and down, his frown deepened and shook his head, no.
"absolutely not. what kind of husband would i be if i just let you spend your hard earned money. only a loser would do that, and I'm no loser.", he pulled you closer to him again, this time peppering kisses all over your face.
"as cute as this is, satoru, i have a life to live"
"yeah, with me". this time he captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss, your lipstick now on him before pulling away and staring at you with the most love sick eyes. "i could just lock you up and keep you all to myself. i bet your boss is an ugly guy"
"my boss is a woman", he pressed his lips together in a straight line and sucked his teeth.
"whoever keeps you away from me is ugly by default. how much should i pay you to stay with me? i'll give you double your current salary-"
"don't be ridiculous, satoru"
"it's 'toru to you", you checked your wrist watch for the nth time and rolled your eyes.
"i'm gonna get stuck in traffic if you keep me here for longer", satoru sighed dramatically and pulled you in for one last hug before capturing your lips again in another kiss. but this one felt different. he kissed you like he would never see you again before pulling back and looking at you with the saddest puppy dog eyes.
"you can go now, my love". he escorted you to your car, his hand on your lower back and once you were settled in your seat, the door closed, you rolled down the windows and you kissed his cheek. "get there safe. call me when you do"
you said your goodbyes and were soon. some time later you realized that you had forgotten your purse. you reached for your phone with the intention of messaging satoru to tell him you were coming back. and to your surprise, you found that he sent a selfie of him posing with your purse, all pearly whites out and your lipstick still smeared on his lips. and below it a text.
my handsome clingy husband: i wont let you go this time if you come back
⡴ gojo cannot undo your bras for the life of him ⡴ suggestive/a little bit of boobs and grinding
every. single. time.
every single time you’re sitting infront of him, lips interlocked, moaning into his mouth … he just can’t seem to unhook your bra himself.
this time, he’s laid out on your mattress while you straddle his hips. he’s dressed in just his underwear that cling to his pale thighs while you sit atop of him and panties and, his worst nightmare … a matching hook-closed bra.
“fuck.” he grumbles breathlessly into your mouth, not even meaning for it to slip out, just an uncontrollable reaction to crossing paths with his mortal enemy. you pull back slightly, still close enough your breath lingers on him.
“what?” you ask, brows furrowing together while his slender fingers tap at the lacy fabric. you squint down at him while his gleaming eyes vacantly look at you. “satoru? you okay?”
he nods quickly while your words snap him out of his thoughts. mostly just ‘fuck’ repeated and ‘why can’t i just blast this stupid thing off?’ you lean down to kiss at his soft lips again, thinking it’s just one of his weird space outs that happen every so often.
he kisses back, leans to his side and tries to distract you with his tongue in your mouth—or atleast buy him some time to figure this the hell out. he can’t believe he figured rct out at 17, yet at 28 he’s still clueless when it comes to something that should be simple.
his fingertips build up the courage to trace over the hooks while your arms scrunch at his stark white hair. your hips grind down onto his heavy bulge like you’re trying to fuck him through the layers of fabric separating him.
he tries to give himself a peptalk while you’re attacking at his lips, that it’s not that difficult and if he gets this over with he can just fuck you already.
his thumb clasps onto one side of the backing, trying to pull it away carelessly from the other end. no dice. he tries to thread the hooks off one by one with a a single finger at once. you start to foster a confused look on your face as you pull back for air. he finally tries to bring the sides together before yanking them apart… he gets the hooks tangled in the lace some-fucking-how.
you yank back from his mouth, spit still trailing between your faces between the string eventually breaks.
“are you, like, not in the mood?” you ask, utterly confused. you’re actually worried at this point that he just doesn’t wanna fuck you from how much he’s hesitating—couldn’t be farther from the truth may he add—even despite the pulsing boner sitting against you, and his eyes open wide at your words.
he immediately shakes his head fervently to signify NO. “no, no, no! i just…” he hesitates, embarrassed before the words can even fall out of his mouth. “…need help getting your bra off.”
“really.” you deadpan, staring down at him with your eyes squinted and eyebrows pulled up against your forehead. he flushes against your gaze. he’s about to plead out a sorry for ruining everything before you giggle.
you slink your arms behind your back and undo the clasps along the band.
he thinks he cums a little in his pants when you yank your bra off your head and toss it across your room, revealing your breasts to him right infront of his face. he might even have drool pooling at his lips.
“you really never learned how to take off a bra?”
“can we just forget about this and let me fuck you?”
ever since satoru got braces, it's been difficult for the two of you.
you had to endure with his whining and groaning on how much it hurt constantly & those stupid things got in the way of everything. "gotta go baby, the club is holding a meeting right now." he leaned down for the usual goodbye kiss, only for him to accidentally cut your bottom lip.
he watched in horror when the smallest amount of blood oozed out. "oh my god!" he gasped, wiping it away as you winced. "im so sorry im sorry!"
if you thought the lack of kisses to prevent more cutting, imagine how hard it was to not get eaten out like always.
"toru.." you sighed, adjusting yourself on his thigh, suddenly feeling the effects of ovulation taking over. "yea sweets?" he looked down at your through his glasses before looking back up at his computer screen. his hand moved in muscle memory, jotting down formulas from memory.
"are you almost done studying? I need you."
a sigh fell from his lips, trying to stop himself from melting at the wya your head tucked into the crook of his neck. you could faintly feel the incoming of a stubble tickle your cheek. "we don't have any condoms. I forgot to stop by the store for some."
"I dont want your dick today," you licked a stripe on his jawline. "I want your mouth."
that certainly got his brow to raise, because surely you didn't forget the last time he tried eating you out. "are you shaven?"
"..no" you pursed your lips. "babe please please pleaseeee!"
"nuh uh, as much as I love your bush, I do not want to spend my Saturday night picking out pubes from my teeth." you were about to accept fate before a lightbulb turned on in your head. "why don't you just eat me out through my panties?"
⋮
"are these the ones I got you?" he dragged his finger down your clothed cunt, making you have a camel toe after sticking your panties into your folds. "Victorias secret right?"
you nodded, whining when he touched your clit.
"fuck, I want to taste you so bad." he pouted. satoru didn't get his braces off until next year, so you still had a long way to go. "this will do though." he finally closed in, lapping at your cunt through the now drenched underwear.
"satoru!" you moaned out, throwing your head onto the pillow, tangling your fingers into his hair. "shit.. can still taste ya so well like this." he rubbed your thighs lovingly, encouraging you to grind against his face.
your hips stuttered with every movement, gasping when he delivered a smack to your hip. "don't stop." his voice coming out muffled, too busy stuffing his face in between your legs. his nose pressed deliciously at your clit, forcing an orgasm right out of you. "that's all it took to make you cum?" satoru pulled away, rubbing your puffy folds, spreading around your juices.
he pulled your panties to the side, leaning back down to lap you up.
"satoru wait!-"
you yelped when his braces unfortunately got caught in your bush. ".... dang it."
satosugu are cheating on each other with you, part two.
part one here!
you knew your nebulous position as the other woman was never going to last. when you’re the affair partner of both people in the same relationship, it’s inevitable that the truth will eventually come out. you just decide to have it happen on your own terms.
you escalate your own behaviour; with suguru, who you mostly have sex with and share the occasional drink, you up your antics. you leave behind lip gloss, you kiss bruises in places he won’t immediately notice, keep your nails sharper to scrape lines down his skin. you moan in his ear as he fucks you and ask, “what would your husband think, if he walked in here right now? watching me take you like i’m the one you’re married to?” just to relish in the way his voice strangles on a heavy groan as he comes.
with satoru, who’s far more interested in the emotional side of things, you devote yourself fully to the role of secret girlfriend. with suguru, you might be a nice, illicit fuck for when his husband’s busy. with satoru? you’re the partner he wishes his husband was. he takes you on elaborate dates, he buys you flowers, he flourishes with every sweet kiss and whispered affirmation. when he calls you late at night, paralysed with fear because he just knows his husband is cheating, you leave suguru in bed to console him from the safety of your bathroom. he can barely look at you when he fucks you, refuses to turn the lights on, then shudders in your arms as you nurture him in the aftermath.
it’s manipulative. you’re halfway in love with them from the thrill alone. you let it build and build, watch as their marriage slowly falls apart from their own actions, and, when it’s all coming to a climax, you arrange a threesome.
in the end, it’s easy. you invite them. suguru tells you happily that his husband’s out of the prefecture that weekend, and he misses you so much, sweetheart. can’t stop thinking about you. satoru tells you his husband is definitely with that homewrecker, so why can’t he spend a weekend with you? they don’t even care about the third, so long as you make sure they’re hot.
then they both show up, and it’s glorious.
after all, aren’t you blameless? it’s suguru that told you he wants something casual, satoru who said he doesn’t mind if you see someone else at the same time, since he’s doing the same. it’s not your fault they’re cheating. it’s not your fault they’ve accidentally fallen for the same woman outside of their marriage. it’s definitely not your fault that you accidentally arranged a threesome with both of them. how could you know? it’s not like suguru’s ever seen you snooping through his apartment. it’s not as if satoru has given you any details about his wayward husband, either.
there’s a moment of silence. of shock. they stare at each other in obvious disbelief while you smile cluelessly. you tell them you “just know they’re going to get along!” and they “have so much in common.” they don’t correct you. no, suguru does something better:
“it’s nice to meet you,” he says, perfectly neutral. “i’m geto suguru. i’ve heard a lot about you.”
satoru looks heartbroken. he looks angry. “gojo satoru,” he replies. “can’t say i’ve heard much about you.”
“looking forward to learning more, i hope.”
“something like that.”
you’re giddy with excitement. how couldn’t you be? they don’t even know. they’re playing some secret, private game between just the two of them, unaware that you know. that you’re a witness to it—better yet, that you’re an orchestrator.
they fight over who kisses you first, and when you goad them into kissing each other, satoru bites suguru so hard his lip splits. suguru growls, pulls him by the hair, and tells him that if he can’t mind his teeth like a good boy, suguru will tie him up so he won’t be able to use his hands, either.
somehow, that’s exactly what happens.
satoru bites and scratches as you all undress, a ball of tightly wound feeling he can’t quite get ahold of. when suguru kisses your neck, satoru tugs at his long hair so hard his neck cracks. after that, well, suguru doesn’t let it slide. he sits you in satoru’s lap and watches satoru bite his way across your tits before pulling his arms behind his back and tying him to the headboard. satoru’s legs follow, winding his calves to his thighs. it says something that satoru doesn’t argue.
“you act like you two know each other,” you say breathily, chest sore from where satoru bit your breasts on the wrong side of too hard, skin pinkening and indented with the shallow divots of his teeth.
satoru groans, watching as suguru pulls you away, situating you in his lap with your back to his chest and your legs spread over his thighs, presented to his husband. “never met the guy,” he says lowly, “and if i have, i don’t recognise him.”
“don’t worry,” suguru croons. “we are going to get very familiar.” his hand caresses down your side as he says it, thumbs rubbing strong circles into your skin.
satoru’s eyes stay fixed on your face.
suguru takes you apart with careful efficiency, teasing you until your pussy flutters with each brush of his fingers against your thighs, your navel, just short of the apex of your thighs. when he finally touches you where you want him, his fingers are long and slow and languid as he spreads you open, fingering you with lazy contentment as he sucks wet kisses down your neck and back. he leaves you straining and whining, makes satoru watch until he’s groaning as if he can feel the phantom touch of suguru’s every caress.
suguru bends you forward until you’re on your hands and knees, head just barely brushing against satoru’s knees. satoru parts his legs further, staring down at you with something close to awe. a little scared, a little sad, and very aroused. suguru crowds your back, bending over your figure and biting the shell of your ear as he slowly, slowly sinks into you.
“my good little wife,” suguru says, loud enough for satoru to hear. satoru chokes on his next breath, bordering on a sob. “should’ve married you, sweetheart. i could keep you like this forever.”
“suguru—“ satoru pants.
his skin is red and raw from his shuffling, his dick rock hard and straining against his black boxers. from the way his chest heaves, his eyes burn red-rimmed with tears, you’d think he’s the one being fucked. when he catches you looking, he lurches forward with a low groan, cut off as the rope tightens around his muscular thighs. he murmurs your name on a strangled groan.
a hand moves, grabbing you by the cheeks and pulling you to look over your shoulder, neck craning at an awkward angle. “ignore him, sweetheart.” suguru whispers in your ear. “eyes on me. he’s not the one fucking you so good, is he?”
“i could be,” satoru growls. “i have. fucked her hard and fast, like a whore. she must be, if she’s willing to fuck you.”
it’s mean, unnecessarily targeted at you when the ire is really directed at his husband. suguru’s eyes crinkle on a smile.
“that’s not a very nice thing to say, is it? she’s always so sweet, so good. maybe you just don’t fuck her right.”
“i’ll show you—“
you stop listening. suguru thrusts so hard and sure, just slow enough to have you craving more, just fast enough to satisfy you. stamina has always been his strong suit, and he fucks you into over sensitivity. his thumb moves, sitting heavy and mean over your clit, rubbing firmly against you with every thrust forward. you fall apart warbling his name, hands reaching backwards to scratch at his thighs. then he fucks you to tears, keeping eye contact with satoru, muttering filth in your ear all the while.
“should knock you up, so you have no choice but to marry me.” he says, watching as satoru’s mouth drops on a whine. “keep you happy and full in my bed, so you never have to leave. you’d be the perfect wife, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
satoru comes untouched with a breathy whine of your name. your name, as if his husband isn’t right there. as if he hadn’t just watched his husband fuck the girl he’d been playing around with. suguru follows soon after, spilling into you unprotected.
they both stay the night. you share a quiet, almost awkward breakfast, where you play the fool and chatter with your usual enthusiasm. when they leave, it’s at the same time.
you don’t know what happens when they get home. what you do know is that suguru texts you a few days later to come over. satoru asks you out on another date. and, a few weeks later, you fall back into bed with the both of them.
"baby please—please i'm sorry! i'll be good!" gojo was kneeling right at the entrance of your apartment, his blue eyes glistened with tears threatening to spill past his obnoxiously pretty lashes while he looked up at you like a sorry kicked down puppy.
"wha—what the fuck do you think you're doing?" you spat out, straitening your perfect dress while your heels slowly clinked on the floors. heels that he'd spent an absurd amount of money on to try to impress you.
you now stood right before him, with gojo trying to scoot closer to your legs, hugging your calves while he looked up at you with the most sorry look on his face.
"and why are you sorry, toru?" you patted him half heartedly on the head, rolling your eyes—with gojo letting out the most pathetic moan the second you pulled your hand away from his head.
he shifted closer towards you, completely flushed against your legs while you tried your hardest not to scoff at the absolutely pathetic display underneath you.
"for…for…" he was stuttering, his words catching in his throat before you lifted one of your feet—gojo's panic setting in, thinking you were going to walk away from him.
"i asked you a question, give me a fucking answer, gojo." you said, right before the point of your heel rested right above his crotch.
he gulped, looking up at you, right before you dug your heel right onto the tent on his dick.
"f—fuck w—wait it hurts, pretty, please—." he whimpered while you only increased the pressure on his cock, his sweats staining right at his tip. oh, he was enjoying this.
"oh you like this. you're disgusting, toru."
you could practically feel him pulsating, trying to hold back his tears again while you moved your heel up and down, teasing him, right before he wrapped his arms around your calf, trying to buck his hips up just the slightest bit before he came in his pants.
satoru gojo, frat president had just cum in his pants. while being stepped on. oh boy.
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
I will be watching for your enemies @melancholicreaper - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
