#CHOPS HAVE BEEN CONTAINED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanaslutt · 11 months

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Geto def gets off to being called a pervert

I see the vision clear as day anon, i hope you enjoy<3

Geto is so dirty in this holy........

contains: fem reader, roomate!geto, panty thief, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, praise, accidental voyeurism, mating press, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (reader receiving), cum eating, geto is nasttyyyyyy, slight crack at the end, shoko makes an appearance :p

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“Suguru can I borrow that band tee you were wearing the other day? I’m about to go out with shoko.” you scrolled on some social media site on the sofa while you called out for your roommate in the kitchen.

Head hanging upside down off the armrest, looking at his naked back in your twisted view, waiting for his response.

Geto peeked his head briefly over his shoulder from the counter he faced, letting out a short laugh before he replied, wanting to ask if the ridiculous positions you came up with were actually comfortable.

Saving his smart remark for another day and responding that he didn’t care, followed by the location of the tshirt.

Picking up your body you placed one foot in front of the other, making quick work for his room, voice ringing out in the hall, “thanks!”

“Shoko said she’s heading here soon so I should probably start getting ready.” you shouted from his room, reaching for his second dresser drawer, where he said it would be.

Pulling the nob back and messing up his carefully folded clothes as you pulled out shirt after shirt, unfolding it to get a better view of the piece before shoving it back in when it ultimately wasn’t what you were looking for.

Eyebrows scrunching inwards when your sights landed on a piece of bright pink fabric shoved deep in the bottom of the drawer. Not remembering suguru ever wear anything like it, you pulled it out.

And you really don’t remember him wearing anything like this.

Because what you were holding between your fingers was your panties.

Jaw dropping slightly in disbelief, head turning back towards the doorway you just walked through, before snapping your neck back in front of you and digging deeper.

“Where are you guys going?” he questioned, yelling from the kitchen as he chopped up some vegetables, back facing the direction of his room.

A decent sized pile was forming of the undergarments you thought you had lost the deeper you looked. You were fuming.

Between Suguru and yourself, you divided the chores up evenly the day you moved in together. Him opting to be on laundry duty over trash, both splitting the dishes.

Never once did the thought even cross your mind that they might’ve been kidnapped by your usually sweet roommate; who is in charge of handling those same panties every day; when you were unable to find them anywhere in your space.

You scoffed in disbeleif at his antics, tongue poking the inside of your ckeek, making it bulge.

You heard him say your name from the kitchen when you didnt answer his question.

Wading up the thieved panties in your fist, you stormed out of his room. Stomping down the hall at a much hastier pace than before, his toned back once agains came into your view.

Geto paused his chopping, muscles in his body going rigid, because he swears you just threw something at his back.

Turning his body to face you, he looked down at the underwear at his feet, a smirk creeping onto his face when he drags his sights back up, making eye contact with your furious expression, brain racing with questions only he could answer.

"Whoops," he says, not an ounce of remorse in his tone. He could practically see the steam coming off of the top of your head when your face scrunched up in a scowl.

"What the fuck were you doing with my panties, do you have any idea how long I've been looking for some of those!?", he feels the anger in the air with your every word.

"You sure you want me to answer that?" he giggles, crossing his arms over his bulging pecs, letting the weight off one of his legs as he braced his lower back into the counter.

"Oh my god!" you shook your head, "you're such a fucking pervert!" you shouted.

"Woah, you don't even know what I did with them yet. Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions when you call me that, huh?" he retaliated, faux offense gracing his features before a more smug look took its place.

"There is no non..." throwing your hands up in search of the right word, "freaky explanation as to why you hid my PANTIES suguru!" Lip curled up in frustration again when laughed at your retort, “so I think my choice of words was fitting." you finished, referring to the name you called him.

"Haha! yeahh, you might be right." both hands dropped from his chest and slid into his pockets. "I wrapped them around my cock a couple of times when I was jerkin' off." An amused look sticking to his face when your jaw dropped in speechlessness, face turning completely red at his confession.

"Came all over the crotch of ur pretty panties too, pretended it was ur pussy." his big mouth continued spilling his dirty secrets out into the open air.

"Y-you," stuttering as you felt the air around you shifting into a heavier one, one that you both picked up on, heart racing in your chest matching the throbbing between your legs as you spoke, "pervert."

----

"F-fucking pervert, fuck!" you moaned into the air when his curved cock drilled perfectly into the most sensitive spot inside you for the nth time that evening.

Really hoping Shoko was taking her time as Suguru held your thighs open by your head, pushing your flexability to the limits as he bullied his thick cock inside your gushing pussy.

"Yeah? tell me how fucking nasty I am baby," he groaned with a smile. Eyes not being able to choose their favorite sight as he looked between where the two of you were connected; your cum making a ring form around the base of his cock; and your pretty drooling face that was looking so fucked out.

"S-so f-fucking disgusting for st-ealin' my dirty panties sugu-ru." words getting broken up by your pleasured moans as he brought his hips back till just the tip of his cock was caught on the rim of your little hole, before fucking it back in with such force it made you dizzy.

"C-cant believe you would d-o that." whining loudly when his thick thumb came down to rub circles into your throbbing bud.

Geto felt a tingling sensation of pleasure jolt through his spine at your harsh words, "M' sorry baby," he lied between his teeth, "got tired of seein’ ur cute little ass walk around the house in basically nothing." cooing at you when you squeezed your cunt tightly around his length at his filthy words, "h-had to do something about it,"

The both of you bounced against the bed as you let out loud Ah's and curses in response to his mean thrusts.

"Nothin' compares to this tho," Geto smiled, rubbing your clit faster when he noticed it made you tighten up your pussy, "Fucking ur pretty little pussy like this is so much better than my fist 'n holdin' ur panties against my face."

"S-suguru thats so nas-tyyy." you drawled out when he picked up his pace, fucking into you with such force and speed you thought you were gonna pass out.

Leaning his body into yours, practically crushing you with his weight with your legs dangling over his shoulders, he brought his face just inches from yours, lips grazing each others at his rough thrusts jolting you both around.

"Is it?" he replied to your declaration, opening his mouth and moaning against your lips before he closed the distance, " Felt so fucking good tho," he laughed against you, pushing his tongue into your mouth, his groans mixing with your squeals.

Less of a kiss and more of him just crushing his jaw into your own as he overwhelmed you with his tongue. Greedily inhaling your moans into his lungs as he continued his assult on your sensitive clit.

"Sugu' 'm gonna cum, fuck-" you mumbled against his wet lips. His own high-creeping rapidly up on him, feeling his balls tighten as they slapped against your ass.

"Me too baby m-me too," eyes squeezing together and eyebrows furrowing, thumb against your clit becoming sloppy as he started to lose himself, "gonna let this pervert fill you up, huh?" he babbled, breaking the kiss and buring his head in the crook of your neck while he messily sucked and kissed the skin there.

"Gonna take a-all my fucking cum like a good girl?" his moans raising in pitch, goosebumbs forming on the back of his neck hearing your loud whines and moans go straight into his ear.

"P-please, give it to me, please." you begged, "fu-ck, c-coming," you managed to voice before your cunt constricted around him, squelching noises increasing when your pussy forced your orgasm out around him, "oh m-y go-d" you repeated as he fucked you through it.

Getting thrown into overstimulation as he repeatedly hit your g-spot, not being able to move his thumb off your clit, or even voice him to do so, "cum inside me sugu-ru," you whimpered into his ear, helping him reach his end. Squealing at his rough thrusts losing their once steady pace when he came.

He bit down hard on your neck, groaning and whining into the skin as he fucked his cum into your womb. Timing his heavy thrusts with the ropes of warm seed spurting out of his dick, pressing his balls hard into your ass each time he did, making sure he really filled you up.

Geto’s eyes rolled back in his head feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm spasm around his twitching dick, milking him for all he was worth. "holy shittt." you voiced at how full he was making you feel.

Your overstimulation died down when his brain was no longer able to function well enough to remind him to play with your clit, something you were grateful for.

He silently lifted his head from the crook of your neck and pulled his incredibly sensitive cock out of your warmth. Staring between the two of you to watch his cum drip out of you, his mouth watering.

Your own arm being draped over your face while you tried to catch your breath, blocking you from seeing his next moves.

Holding your legs up and spread by your calves, he leaned down to your pussy and started sucking on your folds.

Caught off gaurd at the simulation you shot your hands down to his head, trying to push him off you at the intense feeling of his fat tongue on your mound.

He forced his tongue into the tight ring of your cunt, greedily drinking up your combined cum and moaning at the taste. Your thighs twitched with the need to shut around his head at the vibration.

Detaching his mouth from your pussy with a 'pop' he sat back on his heels, your calves still in his large palms as he stared at your abused pussy, licking his lips clean.

"So much fucking tastier than your panties." He grinned.

"You really are disgusting Suguru." Shaking your head against the sheets as he finally let your legs drop back down to the mattress.

"Careful, my cock likes when you talk to me like that." He teases, meaning every word as he tucks his drenched cock back into his boxers,

"Whatever, take me to the bathroom please." You said, ignoring his previous comment, "Cant stand and I need to pee." Holding your arms out to him.

He giggled at your dramatics; even tho he really did fuck the strength out of your legs; scooping his palms under your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He raised you from the bed in a princess cradle and started walking you to the bathroom, "You need to learn how to take it easy. Seriously." you chastised, noticing the bruises and bite marks on your neck when you walked past a mirror, "If this is how you're going to treat me when we fuck, you're better off sticking to stealing my panties, at least they won't feel what you do to them." you complained, only partially meaning your words, which he knew.

"Don't act like your pussy doesn't throb when you see how I marked you up." you rolled your eyes at his retort, making it to the bathroom that neighbors a wall with the kitchen. He placed you down on the seat of the toilet before backing up and leaning against the doorway, facing the doorframe parallel to him as he let you do your business.

"I just had to listen to you guys fuck each other like rabbits for ten minutes, please don't make me listen to you dirty talk each other outside of the bedroom too."

You knew that voice.

"Shoko! good to see you, didn't realize you made yourself at home." Geto snarkily remarked.

"Your pretty roomie gave me a key you big oaf, now go hide in your room for awhile kay?" she brushed her hand in the air, signaling him to fuck off, "Was suposed to take her out but its sounding like you broke her legs so.. well just watch a movie here." she sighed.

Geto brought his attention back to you once more. He had to fight back the laugh burning in his lungs when he saw your crimson face buried in your hands, shinji posing on the toilet in embarrassment.

Stupid fucking panty thief.

“pt.2” here

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gorejo · 1 year

Text

▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au

synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.

content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.

The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.

“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror.

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.

Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.

“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.

“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment.

“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.

“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.

It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.

College reunions, who looks forward to that?

There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.

One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project.

Poor kid was fired the next day.

The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened.

No wonder it was so fucking loud that night.

Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital.

Never in hell were you going to show up alone.

And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.

<< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!!

Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.

Maybe it was an excuse?

Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it?

But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world.

Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”

Was that already eight years ago?

But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…

… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.

“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.

Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.

“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.

“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”

“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”

“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”

“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.

“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging.

“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”

“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.

“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed.

Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?”

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.

“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off.

“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.

“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”

“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”

“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back.

“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?”

“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.

“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.

Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”

“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.

But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”

“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”

“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”

“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.

“You think so?”

“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”

“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers.

“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.

“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”

Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”

“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression

“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.

“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.

“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.

“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”

Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”

Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.

“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.

“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.

“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”

Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”

Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat.

“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko,

<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.

Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”

—

Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours.

They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.

But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.

Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career.

He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish.

When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam.

With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.

And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl.

Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”

“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”

“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”

“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes.

“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”

“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”

“Yea, why so?”

“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!”

Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you.

For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you.

Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number.

And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.

“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”

All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes.

But with him, you experienced all your firsts.

Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled, “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream.

You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day.

Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?”

Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you.

Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity.

To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.

He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart.

Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.

You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him.

So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it.

And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.

From: Mom.

>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled.

To: Minako.

<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako?

From: Minako.

>> Whenever! I can meet now!

>> Is this about our potential engagement?

To Minako.

<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.

You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.

The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.

You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”

how long was this going on for?

Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?

Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved?

Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?

The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.

... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day.

Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”

“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.

The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb.

After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”

Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.

“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”

“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”

“Says who?” the man challenged.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”

“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.

"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking.

“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”

“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”

Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.

After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him.

To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience.

To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.

—-

“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head.

Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.

You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl.

Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him.

But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.

Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way —

Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor.

“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?”

You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice.

Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered.

“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving.

You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.

“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.

Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week.

“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws.

Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs.

“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?”

“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot.

A ring? you wondered.

“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.

“Had no excuse not to come.”

“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”

“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.

Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”

Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes.

Since when did he have that ring?

Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.

Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —

“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”

Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.

Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”

“What are you talking —” you stammered.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat.

“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.

“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”

“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?

“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”

“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.

“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.

All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.

“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”

“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”

"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.

"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.

"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"

" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.

"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.

"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"

“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?”

“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.

“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.

“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.

His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"

“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.

You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore…

“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.

The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair, his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.

“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.

“… I love you,” you confessed.

Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”

...

You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.

Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.

Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.

“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.

Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring

“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.

“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again.

“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.

“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.

Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.

Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile.

And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.

“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you.

Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."

At least for this night, he was yours.

You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.

And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip.

Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed?

“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.

“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.

“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.

"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.

“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum.

His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.

Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.

“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”

You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.

“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.

And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.

“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.

“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured.

“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head.

Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.

Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.

“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.

Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.

“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.

…

How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago.

“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?”

Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.

“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”

Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.

“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”

“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.

“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”

“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.

“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.

Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.

"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."

"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.

“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.

“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”

Seven.

He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,

“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out.

You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.

“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.

“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.

"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms.

—-

Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.

Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.

Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.

Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.

His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.

His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.

Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing.

Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.

Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night.

“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.

“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.

You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.

And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,

“I’m sorry…”

—-

It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel.

You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.

Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.

You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.

You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.

You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.

And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,

“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”

“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.

Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.

You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish.

But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.

Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.

Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.

Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?

“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.

Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.

“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.

“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”

“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked

“Well, she did ask about us."

“And… did she threaten you or anything?”

“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled.

Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."

And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.

“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.

"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”

"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.

"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."

“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.

“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.

“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.

“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”

Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”

“B-but you came late to the reunion.”

“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.

“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.

“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."

"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."

"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”

“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.

“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.

“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.

“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”

"I'd like that," you whispered.

“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes.

And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,

“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”

author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells

again, i hope you enjoyed it!!

p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #darkmode.#forbes30!gojo

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raekensluver · 2 months

Text

hearts aligned

description: you and your roommate spencer reid have always been there for each other. one night he comes back from work and you two discover a different side to your dynamic.

pairing: roomate!spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fluff!! mutual pining, typical criminal minds violence, reader is described as having shoulder length hair

song rec: fallen star by the nbhd- "you're in my dna, i can't keep away no matter how hard i try"

w.c: 2.7k

an: *sob* i love him.

it was a mundane tuesday evening, the kind that bled into the fabric of the week seamlessly. the apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator echoing through the hallway. the soft glow of the living room lamp cast a warm, buttery light, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows outside the window. you sat cross-legged on the couch, your nose buried in a well-worn paperback, the plot weaving in and out of your consciousness like a gentle stream.

the sound of the lock turning brought your head up with a jolt, the bookmark slipping from your fingers to land silently on the carpet. spencer reid, your roommate, stepped inside, his eyes weary but a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. his gaze swept the room before settling on you, the surprise in his eyes unmistakable. "you're still up," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very air.

you closed the book with a soft thud and gave him a warm smile. "yeah, i had some trouble sleeping," you admitted, your voice a little hoarse from the quiet of the night. "do you want some tea?" you offered, already pushing to your feet. his nod was all the encouragement you needed as you padded into the kitchen, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room. while the water heated, you listened to the soft thud of his shoes against the floor as he moved towards his room, the jingle of his keys a familiar lullaby.

but when you turned with the steaming mug in hand, you found him hovering in the doorway, watching you. "you know, i can do that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't mind, really." his voice was gentle, a hint of concern lacing his words.

you paused, the ceramic warm against your palms, and studied him for a moment. his tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled from a long day's work, and his hair, normally a neat cap of chocolate waves, was disheveled. "you've had a long day," you said, your voice firm but kind. "just sit." you gestured to the stool at the kitchen island, the one that faced the stove where you were already setting out ingredients for a simple meal. "i'll make us something light."

he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a seat. the fabric of his pants whispered against the leather of the stool as he settled in, his eyes never leaving you as you moved with an easy grace around the kitchen. you could feel the weight of his gaze, a warm presence that made your cheeks flush, and your heart stutter in your chest.

you filled a pan with oil, the faint sizzle as it heated up a comforting sound. "so, how was work today?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the sudden thrum of anticipation that had taken root in your veins.

spencer took a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. "it was… interesting," he said, his gaze drifting over the steaming liquid. "but i'd rather not talk about that right now," he added, his voice a low murmur. "do you mind if we talk about something else?"

you nodded, setting aside the knife you were using to chop vegetables. "of course," you said, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. "what do you want to talk about?"

spencer leaned against the counter, his expression pensive. "tell me about your day," he said, his eyes searching yours. "i feel like i never get to hear about it."

you felt a flutter in your stomach. "it was…normal," you said, the words feeling almost rehearsed. "work, errands, the usual."

spencer's gaze remained steady, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes. "anything exciting happen?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "well, if you consider accidentally matching my socks with my shirt 'exciting,' then yes, it was quite the thriller," you said with a wry smile.

his eyes lit up with amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. "i see," he said, his voice teasing. "that does sound like a tale for the ages."

you rolled your eyes playfully, the tension in the room easing a notch. "it was definitely a fashion statement," you quipped, tossing a chopped carrot into the pan. the sizzle filled the air, the scent of garlic and onions mingling with the warmth of the kitchen.

spencer set his tea aside, leaning closer. "i'm sure it was," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "but really, anything interesting happen?"

you met his gaze, a sudden realization dawning. "you know what, spencer?" you said, your voice earnest. "right now, this moment, is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all day." his eyes widened slightly, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. "just being here, with you, talking about nothing in particular… it's nice."

his cheeks colored slightly, and he ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't get to do this very often."

you cocked your head to the side, studying him. "what do you mean?"

he shrugged, his eyes darting to the floor. "i spend so much time working, or reading, or… just in my own head," he admitted. "i don't get to just sit and talk with people. not like this."

you felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that was more profound than any conversation you'd had with him before. "i'm always here, you know," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could second guess them. "if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with."

his eyes snapped back up to yours, the surprise in them clear. "i know," he said, his voice a little gruff. "i just… i don't want to burden you."

you set the spatula down, moving closer to him. "you're not a burden, spencer," you said, your voice firm. "you're my roommate. and if you ever need anything, i'm here."

his eyes searched yours, the depth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. "i know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "it's just… i don't want to take advantage."

you reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. "you could never take advantage," you assured him, your thumb stroking a gentle circle against his skin. "we're friends, we're supposed to be here for each other."

spencer's eyes dropped to where your hand rested, the warmth of your touch seeping into his bones. "i know that," he murmured. "but i also know that you have your own life, your own things to deal with."

you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before retreating to the stove, the comforting dance of cooking resuming as if the moment had never happened. "and you're part of my life," you said, your back to him. "so, what's one more thing?"

spencer watched you for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way your hair fell in soft waves down to your shoulders. he took a deep breath, the scent of the simmering food filling his nostrils. "what's your favorite memory?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

you glanced over your shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "just one?" you teased, turning back to the stove. "that's a tough one." you stirred the contents of the pan, the spices releasing a symphony of aromas into the air. "but if i had to pick, it would be the first time we moved in together."

spencer's eyes lit up, the memory obviously a good one. "that was… chaotic," he said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "but also… nice."

you nodded, your smile growing. "i remember being so nervous," you said, the words bringing a warm rush of nostalgia. "i didn't know what to expect, moving in with someone i'd only met only once before."

spencer's gaze grew distant, his mind traveling back to that fateful day. "i was the same," he admitted. "i had this whole speech prepared about how we should respect each other's space and keep things clean, but when i saw you, it all just… disappeared."

you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. "really?"

he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but you just… you made me feel comfortable. like i could be myself around you."

you felt your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i felt the same way," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i remember walking in and seeing all these boxes, and thinking 'what have i gotten myself into?'" you laughed, the sound a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. "but then you looked up from your book, and you just… you were so genuine, so welcoming."

spencer's smile grew, his eyes a soft brown in the muted light. "i've never regretted that decision," he said, his voice earnest. "you make this place feel like home."

you blinked, the sudden weight of his words settling in your stomach. "i'm… i'm happy to hear that," you said, your voice a little breathless.

spencer pushed himself off the stool, the sound of it scraping against the tile floor breaking the silence. he took a step closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating like a small sun. "i mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're the best roommate i could ever ask for."

you swallowed hard, the heat of the stove behind you seemingly nothing compared to the warmth in front of you. "thank you," you whispered, your hand still clutching the spatula. "you're pretty great too."

his smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

you nodded, feeling your heart race. "yes," you said, turning back to the stove to give yourself a moment to compose. "you're always there when i need you, and you put up with my terrible cooking."

spencer chuckled, moving closer to peer into the pan. "i wouldn't say it's terrible," he said, his eyes twinkling. "just… adventurous."

you shot him a playful glare, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "adventurous, huh?" you said, shaking your head. "i'll take that as a compliment."

spencer stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take the spatula from your grip. "i'll help," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the air between you felt charged, the tension thick and palpable. your heart was racing, each beat echoing in your ears like the tick of a clock counting down to something you hadn't quite anticipated.

you let him take over, watching as his long, slender fingers deftly stirred the sizzling mixture. "i've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "i know we've been roommates for a while now, but… i've started to realize that i might like you a little more than just a friend."

you froze, the heat from the stove forgotten. your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of uncertainty or jest, but all you found was sincerity. "spencer," you began, but he held up a hand to stop you.

"i know it's weird," he said, his voice rushing out like a river that had been dammed for too long. "and i know we're friends, and roommates, but… i can't ignore it anymore."

you stared at him, your thoughts racing faster than the cars on the street outside. "spencer," you breathed, his name a question, a declaration, a plea all rolled into one. your hand hovered in the space between you, unsure of where to land.

his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his hand as he took the spatula a silent promise. "i know," he continued, his voice a little shaky. "but i can't help it. every time i come home and you're here, waiting for me, it's like… it's like coming home to a piece of sunshine."

you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the words resonating deep within you. "spencer," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i… i feel the same way." the words hung in the air, a soft confession that seemed to illuminate the kitchen with a gentle glow.

his eyes searched yours, a hopeful spark lighting them up. "you do?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid to believe.

you nodded, your own heart racing. "yes," you said, your voice clear and firm. "i've liked you for a while now. i just didn't know how to tell you." the admission felt like a weight lifting off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than air.

spencer's smile grew, a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. "really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

you nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. "yes," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "i just didn't want to mess things up."

spencer set the spatula down, the clatter against the pan a jolting sound in the quiet kitchen. "you could never mess things up," he said, his voice a soft promise. "not with me."

you took a step closer, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a magnet. "are you sure?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, his voice a low murmur. "you make me feel… alive, in a way i haven't felt in a long time."

you felt your breath catch in your throat, the confession so raw and honest that it was like a punch to the gut. "spencer," you whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.

his eyes searched yours, the question in them unspoken but clear. "what are we going to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

you took a deep breath, the scent of the food on the stove forgotten. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i just know that i don't want to ignore this anymore."

spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on his cheek. "neither do i," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. "i don't want to pretend it's not there."

you stepped closer, your hand sliding down to cup his face fully. "then let's not," you said, your voice a little tremulous. "let's see where this goes."

his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours tentatively. it was a gentle touch, a question that hung in the air between you, waiting for an answer. you responded with a sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body a comforting embrace that seemed to fit you perfectly.

the world outside the kitchen faded away, the only sounds the faint crackle of the stove and the thud of your hearts beating in sync. the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. your hands tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk.

you two broke apart, breathless, your eyes searching each other's for any sign of doubt or regret. but all you saw was a reflection of your own feelings - a wild, unbridled hope that seemed to set the room alight. spencer's chest rose and fell in time with yours, his eyes dark with want.

"i've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

you nodded, your eyes searching his. "i know," you said, your voice just as soft. "me too."

his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "are we… are we okay?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

you nodded, your heart racing. "yes," you breathed, the word a soft promise. "we're more than okay."

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enreveriee · 23 days

Text

♫︎ SWEATER WEATHER | N.RK

╰ one love, two mouths, one love, one house

SWEATER WEATHER: in which nishimura riki aka niki finds himself consoling his roommate aka you after all the bullying— and even catching your boyfriend cheating on you. . GENRE: angst, comfort and a little fluff (?). . WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, bullying, kisses, contains cuss words, lmk if I missed anything. . WORD COUNT: 10k

YOU swore to yourself you’d never cry in front of anyone, to never show that kind of vulnerability. But here you were, curled up in a fetal position on your small, single bed, muffling your sobs into your pillow.

The dim light from the street lamp outside barely lit the room, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and claw at the walls, matching the heaviness in your chest. You felt suffocated, every breath shaky as if the weight of everything pressed down on you, making it impossible to hold back the tears.

Niki, your roommate, sat across the room at his desk, fidgeting with the edge of his notebook, glancing at you every so often with a mix of concern and awkwardness. He had never been good at dealing with emotions—especially yours—but this was different. You were his roommate but also he had grown to see you as a friend, and seeing you like this felt like a punch to his gut.

“Did it… happen again?” Niki asked, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to shatter the fragile silence. He knew about the bullying, not because you ever told him, but because the signs were always there, glaringly obvious.

He had seen the sticky notes that clung to your backpack like parasites, covered in hateful messages: “Just die,” “Kill yourself,” “Bitch,” “Fuck you.” They ranged from vicious insults to degrading taunts that made his blood boil every time he thought about them.

Then there were the days you’d walk into the dorm drenched in milk, your hair sticky and your eyes hollow, the faintest tremble in your hands as you tried to pretend it was no big deal. No one in their right mind would choose to bathe in milk, and Niki knew you were being targeted.

It didn’t stop at notes and milk either; he remembered the time your hair had been crudely chopped off. It had grown back now, but the humiliation and anger in your eyes had lingered much longer.

You sniffed, trying to stifle the sobs, but it was useless. Your shoulders shook with every cry, your hands clutching the pillow tighter as if trying to ground yourself.

Niki’s chair scraped against the floor as he finally stood up, his movements hesitant. He walked over to your bed, hovering at the edge, unsure of what to do with his hands or even how close he should get.

“Why don’t you tell someone?” Niki asked, his voice laced with frustration—not at you, but at the situation. He knelt beside your bed, his knees pressing into the cold floor, and he reached out but hesitated before pulling back his hand, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck instead. “I mean… the teachers, they have to do something, right?”

You didn’t lift your head, your voice muffled but raw. “They see it, Niki. They see it every day, and they just… don’t care. It’s easier for them to look away.”

Niki clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of your bed. He wanted to punch something, anything, because he hated seeing you like this—so broken, so defeated.

He shifted, finally sitting on the edge of your bed. His hand hovered above your back, the hesitation clear, but then he gently placed it there, rubbing small, comforting circles. It was clumsy and uncertain, but it was the only thing he could think of to try and ease your pain.

You tensed at first but didn’t pull away, the warmth of his touch cutting through the cold that seemed to settle in your bones. He didn’t say anything else for a while, just sat there with you in the dim light, the rhythmic sound of his thumb tracing circles on your back the only comfort in the stillness.

“I’m here, you know?” he finally said, his voice softer now. “Even if I don’t know what to say or do, I’m here. And those assholes… they don’t get to win, okay?”

His words were simple, but they cut through the numbness, reaching a part of you that you’d kept locked away. You turned your head slightly, peeking at him through tear-streaked lashes. There was a softness in his eyes, a sincerity that made your chest tighten in a different way—something more than just pain.

“Thanks, Niki,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. You sniffed and wiped at your face with the back of your hand, feeling a tiny, fragile spark of comfort in his presence.

Niki nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line as if holding back his own surge of emotions. He squeezed your shoulder once before letting go, staying close enough that you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

In that quiet, shared space, the harshness of the world outside seemed a little less overwhelming, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t entirely alone.

"I'll go take a walk," you muttered under your breath, your voice barely audible as you stood by the door. The rain outside was relentless, pouring down in heavy sheets, but you didn't care. You needed to get out, to clear your mind from the suffocating weight of everything that had happened. Niki glanced up from his books briefly, his eyes filled with unspoken worry, but he didn't stop you. He knew better than to try.

With the umbrella clutched tightly in your hand, you stepped out into the cold rain, the rhythmic patter of drops on the fabric above you a faint comfort against the storm brewing inside your head. You walked with determined strides, the chill of the rain seeping through your clothes but failing to cool the burning in your chest.

You didn't know where you were headed, but your feet moved on autopilot, leading you towards the familiar path to Dowon's house. His place wasn't far; it was where you always went when you needed comfort, where his arms were supposed to be your safe haven.

You didn't think to announce your arrival -why would you? He lived alone, and you'd been over countless times without a word. As you neared his house, your heart ached with the anticipation of being held, of letting go of the tears that you'd kept bottled up all day.

But as you approached his door, something made you pause. A pair of unfamiliar heels were tossed carelessly by the entrance, a stark contrast against the neatly arranged sneakers that belonged to Dowon.

Curiosity and a growing sense of dread pulled you forward. You peeked inside the partially open bedroom door, and your heart dropped into your stomach. There, on his bed, Dowon was entangled in a mess of limbs with none other than Rina-your bully, the person who had made your life a living hell. They were wrapped around each other, oblivious to everything else, and the sound of their heavy breaths filled the small room.

"Don't worry, baby," Dowon's voice came out in ragged gasps between thrusts. "I'll make sure she doesn't come between us."

You stood frozen in the doorway, your mind struggling to process the scene in front of you. The betrayal cut deeper than anything you'd ever felt. Your boyfriend, the one person who was supposed to be on your side, was now tangled in sheets with the person who had caused you so much pain. It wasn't just cheating; it was a cruel, twisted joke at your expense.

You pushed the door open, the loud creak finally drawing their attention. Dowon looked up, but there wasn't a hint of guilt or panic in his eyes-just a bored, dismissive scoff. Rina, on the other hand, shot you a smug smirk, not even bothering to cover herself as she continued moving against him, as if your presence was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

"Good timing," Rina muttered, her voice laced with mockery. She didn't stop, her movements only growing bolder, as if to taunt you further.

Your throat tightened, and you felt the words you wanted to scream get caught somewhere deep, locked away by the sheer disbelief and hurt. "Dowon, you?" was all you managed to choke out, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed the nearest object-a lamp-and hurled it towards you, his expression twisted with anger and annoyance.

"Get the hell out," he snarled, his voice sharp and cold, cutting through the last of your hope.

You stumbled back, the lamp shattering against the doorframe as you fled, your feet carrying you blindly through the rain. Tears mixed with the droplets on your face, but you didn't care who saw or what they thought.

The ache in your chest spread like a wildfire, every step echoing with the betrayal you had just witnessed. You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, trying to clear the tears that wouldn't stop falling. You felt stupid, lost, and utterly alone as you wandered the empty streets, your sobs lost to the relentless downpour.

"You should eat something," Niki muttered softly as he slid a steaming bowl of ramen across the small table towards you. He had taken the time to prepare it, carefully adding extra toppings in hopes of coaxing you to eat. The steam rose in gentle curls, carrying the comforting scent of warm broth and spices.

Niki, usually reserved and quiet, had been watching you with increasing concern. The dark circles under your eyes, the way you lay curled up in your bed for hours—he could see the weight you were carrying, even if you tried to hide it behind a stoic front.

"I'm not hungry," you mumbled, your voice breaking as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. You were sitting up, knees drawn to your chest, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing holding you together. Each sob that escaped your lips felt like it took a piece of you with it. Niki shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with his hands that now fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"You sound like a zombie," he joked awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. It was an attempt to bring a smile to your tear-streaked face, but it only made your sobs deepen. The corners of your mouth trembled as if debating whether to laugh or cry harder.

Niki mentally kicked himself, regretting the attempt as soon as he saw fresh tears spill down your cheeks. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t good at this—comforting people wasn’t his forte, and seeing you this broken made him feel utterly helpless.

"I'll just..." He trailed off, glancing towards his desk where his open textbooks awaited him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. The weight of your sadness hung heavy in the room, more oppressive than the rain still drumming against the window outside. He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words, but they eluded him.

Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, but still keeping a respectful distance. "Just eat once you’re done sobbing," he muttered. His words came out gruffly, harsher than he intended, but the concern was unmistakable. He just wanted you to take care of yourself, even if he didn’t know how to phrase it gently.

You glanced at the bowl of ramen but didn’t make a move towards it. Your eyes drifted back to the stack of crumpled letters and torn notes scattered on your bed—hate-filled messages from Rina, Dowon, and their group.

Each one was a reminder of the bullying you faced daily, and now, to top it all off, the painful revelation that Dowon had been cheating on you with Rina. It felt like a betrayal from every corner of your world. You hadn’t eaten in over a day, but the thought of food made your stomach churn.

Niki watched you, his expression softening. He didn’t know the right words to fix this, but he felt a sharp sting in his chest seeing you like this. He wanted to reach out, to touch your shoulder or hold your hand, but he didn’t know if you’d welcome it or if it would make things worse. He rubbed his palms against his jeans, trying to muster the courage to say something that might help.

"I got cheated on too," he blurted out suddenly, his voice quiet but steady. You glanced up, surprised. It wasn’t like Niki to talk about himself, especially not about things that hurt. He kept his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor, avoiding your eyes. "People like that... they’re just the worst. Don’t dwell on it."

You let out a choked laugh, though it was far from humorous. Tears welled up anew, spilling over as you shook your head. "That was two years ago, Niki," you said between sobs, the bitterness lacing your words. "It's not the same."

He met your gaze then, his dark eyes filled with an understanding that went beyond words. "Still," he insisted softly. "It hurts, I get it. But you can't let them keep taking pieces of you like this."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back another wave of tears. "I loved him so much, but he..." Your voice broke entirely, and you couldn’t finish the sentence. The betrayal cut too deep, the pain still too raw. Your shoulders shook as the sobs overtook you again, and for a moment, Niki simply watched, feeling every tear as if it were his own.

Without a word, he scooted closer and gently scooped up a spoonful of ramen, blowing on it to cool it down. In one swift but gentle motion, he brought it to your lips. You were too startled to resist, and before you knew it, the warm broth was sliding down your throat. You blinked, surprised not only by the unexpected gesture but by how comforting the food felt, even though you hadn’t thought you could eat anything.

"Better?" Niki asked, his voice softer now, tinged with the slightest hint of a smile. "See? I’m a good cook." He kept feeding you in silence, his hand steady even as your tears continued to fall. He wasn’t great with words, but his actions spoke volumes—small, quiet gestures that showed you he cared, even if he didn’t always know how to say it.

You nodded faintly, the corners of your lips lifting just a little. "Yeah, you are," you mumbled, taking another bite as Niki held the spoon out for you. He continued to feed you, his movements patient and gentle, like he had all the time in the world. He wasn’t perfect, and he certainly wasn’t great at comforting, but in that moment, sitting beside you in the dim light of your shared dorm room, it was enough.

The next month passed in a haze. You did everything you could to avoid Dowon and Rina at school, steering clear of the places where they might be. You knew Niki was busy with his senior year, studying hard to prepare for his upcoming exams.

He had his own pressures and priorities, so you kept to the lower floors, avoiding the senior wing entirely. You didn’t want him to see you like this—crying in between classes, struggling to hold yourself together. The thought of burdening him with your constant tears made you feel even smaller.

Lunchtime arrived like any other day, and you took a deep breath as you entered the bustling school canteen. The chatter of students, the clattering of trays, and the scent of various foods filled the air. You quietly picked up a tray, moving through the line and choosing the least messy options.

Your goal was to be quick and unnoticeable, to eat alone in some quiet corner where no one would bother you. But as you were about to leave, you felt a cold, unsettling presence behind you.

Turning around, you came face-to-face with Rina. She stood there, her eyes glinting with malice and a cruel smile playing on her lips. She was taller, her posture confident and intimidating as she towered over you. The noise of the canteen seemed to quiet down, and it felt like all eyes were on the two of you. You clutched your tray tighter, already feeling your heart race in your chest.

“Look who’s here,” Rina sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. She glanced at her own tray, then back at you, a dangerous glint flashing in her eyes. “Still sulking over Dowon? You really are pathetic.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the stinging retort that threatened to spill out. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. You tried to sidestep her, but she moved in front of you, blocking your path. You could see a few students had paused their conversations, eyes flickering towards the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“Do you have anything to say, or are you just going to keep being a crybaby?” Rina taunted, leaning in closer. Her voice was low enough that only you could hear the venom in her words, but her expression was all show, designed to make you look small in front of everyone. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the overwhelming urge to cry.

Before you could react, Rina lifted her tray and, with deliberate slowness, tipped it over your head. The contents—a mix of spaghetti, sauce, and soda—splattered across your hair and uniform. You gasped, instinctively stepping back, but it was too late. The cold, sticky mess clung to your skin, sliding down the back of your neck and staining your clothes.

You heard the collective laughter of the canteen erupt around you, students pointing and whispering, their faces alight with amusement at your expense. Rina’s smirk widened, her eyes glistening with cruel satisfaction as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. You stood there, frozen in shock and humiliation, your tray clattering to the floor with a sharp clang that echoed through the room.

“Oh, come on, don’t cry,” Rina mocked, mimicking a pout. “You’re making this too easy. It’s just a little food, right? Or maybe you should be grateful—now you have something to actually cry about.”

Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and uncontainable. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing you break, but the laughter around you felt like daggers, each one chipping away at your composure. You turned on your heel and bolted for the bathroom, ignoring the whispers and stifled giggles that followed you.

Slamming the door behind you, you rushed to the nearest stall and locked yourself inside. Your chest heaved as sobs wracked your body, the sound of your own crying muffled against the cold tiles. The food dripped from your hair and clothes, leaving greasy streaks and staining your uniform. You desperately tried to wipe it off, but the more you rubbed, the worse it seemed to get.

Why was it always you? Why did it feel like you were always the target, always the one getting hurt? You slumped against the stall wall, your legs giving out as you slid to the floor. You didn’t care that you were missing classes or that the bell had rung, signaling the end of lunch. Nothing mattered in that moment except the overwhelming, crushing feeling of isolation and betrayal.

You pulled your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands as the sobs continued to shake you. The once warm ramen Niki had made you replayed in your mind—a small, comforting moment now overshadowed by the relentless cruelty of the world around you. It was hard to breathe through the tears, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the humiliation washed over you in waves.

Minutes, maybe hours, passed before you dared to emerge. Your eyes were red and puffy, your cheeks stained with tears that wouldn’t stop falling. You glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, seeing not just the mess of food but the reflection of a girl who felt utterly broken.

You wanted to scream, to let out the frustration and pain that had built up inside you for so long, but you couldn’t. All you could do was stand there, staring at the image of someone who couldn’t catch a break, wondering when—if ever—things would start to get better.

The knock on the bathroom door startled you, and you froze. You heard a girl's voice from the other side, timid yet urgent. “Hey, someone’s asking for you. He’s outside.”

You stopped sniffling, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, your heart racing. The idea that it might be Dowon made your skin crawl, your mind instantly flashing back to the awful image of him with Rina. The thought of facing him now, in this state, was unbearable.

“Tell him…” your voice cracked, weak and broken. “Tell him I’m not coming out.” You sniffled, trying to keep your composure, but the tears wouldn’t stop. They never seemed to stop.

The girl’s footsteps receded, and you leaned back against the cold, tiled wall, hoping whoever was outside would just go away. You didn’t have the strength to face anyone right now, let alone the person you feared the most.

But then another voice pierced through the quiet, louder and unmistakably familiar. “Please come out. It’s me, Niki.” The urgency in his voice echoed through the empty restroom, and you could almost picture him standing there, awkwardly waiting just beyond the boundary of the girls' bathroom, trying not to overstep but too concerned to leave.

Your breath hitched. Niki? You hadn’t expected him. You didn’t want him to see you like this—disheveled, broken, and covered in food. The shame washed over you anew, and you buried your face in your hands, trying to stifle the sobs that kept bubbling up.

“Go away,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against your palms. You hoped he couldn’t hear the quiver in your tone, the way your words shook with the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. “Just go, Niki. I’m fine.”

“Please,” he called out, the desperation in his voice making your chest tighten. “Come out.”

You heard the faint creak of the bathroom door opening wider, and then footsteps—hesitant but determined—echoed against the tiles. Your breath caught. He was inside the girls' bathroom now, completely disregarding the rules, the boundaries. It was such a small, reckless act, but it meant the world in that moment.

You flinched as he gently knocked on the door to the stall you were hiding in, the sound echoing in the confined space. “I don’t care how you look,” he said softly, his voice closer now, almost a whisper but with an edge of firmness that brooked no argument. “Just come out.”

You hesitated, staring at the lock, your fingers trembling as you reached for it. Part of you wanted to stay hidden forever, to never face the world or anyone in it again. But Niki’s persistence, the unwavering concern in his voice, tugged at something deep within you. Slowly, you turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the sorry state you were in.

Niki’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you—your uniform stained with spaghetti sauce, your hair matted and sticky, the remnants of Rina’s cruel prank all too evident. But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t make a face or step back in disgust. Instead, he moved closer, his expression shifting from shock to anger, and then to something softer, more tender.

“She did this, didn’t she?” he asked, his voice tight with barely contained fury. You nodded, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision. You looked away, embarrassed, but he gently tilted your chin back up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

You tried to pull away, your hands pushing weakly against his chest. “Niki, don’t… I’ll ruin your uniform.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, thick with tears. You didn’t want to burden him with your mess, both literal and emotional.

But Niki only shook his head, his grip on your shoulders firm and steady. “That’s the last thing I care about right now,” he said, his tone resolute. His arms wrapped around you then, pulling you into his chest with a comforting pressure that was both unexpected and desperately needed. You stiffened at first, but then you sank into him, letting his warmth and the steady beat of his heart anchor you.

“I’m a mess,” you muttered, your voice breaking as you finally let yourself fall apart in his embrace. “I’m such a mess.”

He held you tighter, his chin resting atop your head as his fingers stroked your back in soothing circles. “I don’t care,” he said softly, his voice a quiet reassurance in the small, echoing space. “I’m here.”

You clung to him, your sobs quieting as the comfort of his presence washed over you. You could feel the dampness of your tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just kept holding you, his steady breaths matching the rhythm of your own shaky inhales and exhales.

“You’re in the girls’ bathroom,” you mumbled after a while, your voice muffled against his chest. It was a small, silly observation, but it felt strangely important to acknowledge in the midst of everything.

“I know,” he replied, a faint smile in his voice. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You know?” you repeated, sniffling as you pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes puffy and red. He nodded, his expression calm and unbothered, as if standing in the wrong bathroom was the least of his worries.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache. “I know, and I don’t care. Not if it means making sure you’re okay.”

You didn’t have a response to that. Instead, you let yourself be held, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel just a little bit safe. In his arms, the world seemed a little less cruel, and the weight on your shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.

Niki didn’t try to offer empty reassurances or tell you that everything would be fine. He didn’t try to fix the unfixable or pretend that your pain wasn’t real. He was just there, holding you in the quiet of the empty bathroom, letting you cry until there were no more tears left to shed. And in that simple act of being present, of showing up when you needed someone the most, he gave you a small, fragile hope that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you felt.

Even though some time had passed since the incident, the sting of humiliation still lingered, wrapping around your heart like a thorny vine. The memory of Rina’s laughter and the mocking faces of your classmates played on a loop in your mind, refusing to fade. You sat on the edge of your bed in your small dorm room, clutching a book that you weren’t really reading, your eyes glazed over with the weight of thoughts you couldn't shake off.

Across the room, your roommate, Niki, was in the middle of an impromptu self-defense lesson. He stood by his bed, brandishing a pillow in the air as if it were Rina herself, his expression serious and animated. His movements were swift and precise as he demonstrated a move, grabbing an invisible head of hair with one hand and yanking it down with a forceful tug, the pillow tumbling onto the floor with a soft thud.

“You grab her hair like this,” Niki said, his voice firm, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that startled you. “And then you throw her to the ground when she tries that shit again.” He stood tall, his jaw clenched, still gripping the imaginary strands of hair in his fist. The determination in his gaze was almost palpable, as if he could channel all his fury through this makeshift demonstration.

You watched him, chewing on your lower lip as doubt crept into your mind. The whole scene felt surreal—Niki, a senior with finals to worry about, was spending his time teaching you how to fight back, his disdain for Rina and Dowon clear in every movement. It was sweet, in its own strange way, but it also made your stomach twist with anxiety.

“What if she gets hurt?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible as you glanced down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your uniform skirt. The thought of retaliating, of actually causing harm, made you uneasy. You weren’t like Niki; you didn’t have his unyielding confidence or his unwavering sense of right and wrong. “What if I…?”

Niki shot you a look, his eyebrows raising as if you’d just suggested the most absurd thing in the world. “Hurt?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “That’s even better.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the conflict clear in your eyes as you looked up at him. “But what if the teachers suspend me? I’m not even a senior like you. I can’t just—what if they find out and—?”

He cut you off, shaking his head with a sharp, dismissive wave of his hand, his expression turning steely. “Then it’s their fault,” he snapped, his voice edged with frustration. “They didn’t do anything when she was bullying you. They ignored it. So what sense does it make if they step in when you’re defending yourself?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the bedpost as he fixed you with a stare that was equal parts stern and protective.

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted again, his voice softening just a touch as he knelt down to pick up the discarded pillow, fluffing it absentmindedly. “Look,” he sighed, sitting on the floor and resting his back against his bed, his shoulders slumping slightly. His earlier bravado had waned, and now he just looked… tired. “I’m not saying you have to hurt her, like, seriously. But you can’t keep letting her walk all over you. You have to stand up for yourself, even if it’s just once.”

You watched him, your heart squeezing at the sight of his sincerity. Niki was rarely this serious about anything other than his dance practice or his favorite video games, but here he was, fully invested in your cause. He was skipping out on his own studying to sit here and coach you, trying to build you up when all you wanted to do was curl up and disappear.

He glanced up, catching your gaze, and his expression softened further, the fierce lines of anger easing into something gentler. “You deserve better, you know,” he murmured, almost as if he were talking to himself. “You shouldn’t have to put up with people like her. Or like him.”

His words hung heavy in the air, sinking into the quiet room. You knew he was right, but the fear of retaliation, of further humiliation, still loomed large in your mind. It was hard to picture yourself standing up to Rina, to imagine a version of you that was strong and unafraid. But Niki’s belief in you, the quiet determination in his voice, made you want to try, if only for him.

You glanced at the pillow still clutched in his hands, then back at him, and a small, uncertain smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You really think I can do it?”

He nodded without hesitation, a spark of encouragement lighting up his eyes. “I know you can. And even if you mess up, even if things don’t go perfectly…” He trailed off, his lips curving into a playful grin as he tossed the pillow back onto his bed, his mood shifting to something lighter. “I’ve got your back. Always.”

His words warmed you in a way that you couldn’t quite put into words. For a moment, the weight of your fears felt just a little bit lighter, and the shadows of doubt began to retreat. Niki’s confidence, his unwavering support, gave you a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as powerless as you felt.

“Thanks, Niki,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere. He just shrugged, brushing it off as if it were nothing, but the gentle smile that lingered on his face told you everything you needed to know.

For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, with a friend like him by your side, you could find the strength to fight back. Not just against Rina or Dowon, but against all the things that had been holding you down for far too long. And that was a feeling worth holding onto.

Niki tossed the pillow at you with a playful grin, watching as it bounced off your shoulder. “You’ll have to pay for the lesson, though,” he teased, winking at you before spinning on his heel and heading over to his cluttered desk, which was strewn with textbooks, notes, and half-empty snack wrappers. He plopped down into his chair with a dramatic sigh, cracking open a thick workbook filled with math problems he clearly wasn’t thrilled about.

You caught the pillow, rolling your eyes as you tossed it back onto his bed. “Seriously?” you huffed, crossing your arms with an exaggerated pout. “I’m cooking for the fourth time this week, Niki.”

He glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And you’re still complaining? I think you secretly enjoy it,” he teased, turning his attention back to his workbook. “Besides, you make the best fried rice. No one else’s comes close.”

A small smile crept onto your face despite your mock annoyance. It was hard to stay mad when Niki was so effortlessly charming. He always knew how to lighten the mood, how to pull you out of your funk with just a few words. You shook your head and made your way over to the small corner of your shared room that you had turned into a makeshift kitchen.

It wasn’t much—just a portable stove, a mini-fridge, and a few shelves stacked with ingredients and cooking utensils—but it was cozy, and it had quickly become your little sanctuary.

As you started to cook, the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables and the sizzle of rice hitting the hot pan filled the room. You added a dash of soy sauce, the savory aroma wafting through the air. In between stirring the rice and adding spices, you glanced over at Niki.

He was hunched over his desk, a pencil in hand as he scribbled furiously in his notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration. Every now and then, he’d let out a groan of frustration, tossing his pencil down and running a hand through his hair.

“You okay over there?” you called out, trying to stifle a giggle as you watched him wrestle with the math problem in front of him.

“No, this is torture,” Niki groaned dramatically, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He spun around to face you, pointing accusingly at the workbook. “Why do they even make us learn this stuff? I’m never going to use this in real life.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you gave the rice one last stir. “You’re a senior, Niki. You’ve only got a few more months of this. Then you’ll be free to do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but those few months feel like an eternity,” he muttered, slumping forward onto his desk. He rested his chin in his hand, his eyes drifting over to you as you plated the fried rice. His expression softened, the frustration fading from his features as he watched you move around the kitchen. “But I guess it’s not so bad with you here.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, your heart doing a little flip in your chest. “Well, I’m glad I can make it a little less unbearable,” you said, setting the plates down on the small table near the window. The sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the room, making it feel even cozier.

Niki joined you at the table, sliding into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork, poking at the steaming mound of rice with a contented sigh. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver,” he said between bites, his eyes lighting up as he tasted your cooking. “I don’t know what I’d do without your fried rice.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took a bite of your own. “You’d probably survive on instant noodles and chips,” you teased, glancing at the pile of snack wrappers still littering his desk.

“Hey, those are essentials,” Niki shot back, a playful glint in his eyes. “But yeah, I guess I’d starve without you.”

The banter between you flowed easily, as natural as breathing. Niki had a way of making everything feel lighter, less overwhelming. Even on the toughest days, when it felt like the world was against you, he was always there, his presence a constant source of comfort and strength.

And lately, with him by your side at school and in the dorm, things had been looking up. You were paying more attention in class, your grades were improving, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you were on the right path.

As you finished your meal, Niki leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. He looked over at you, his eyes warm and filled with something you couldn’t quite place, something that made your heart flutter in your chest.

As the months went by, you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your chest whenever you thought about Niki’s upcoming graduation. The end of the school year loomed closer, each passing day marking one step closer to a future where he wouldn't be just a room away, wouldn’t be at the same school, wouldn’t share your everyday moments.

The thought gnawed at you, the inevitable distance feeling like a prelude to being forgotten. You did your best to push Niki away, ignoring him when you could, though you still found yourselves sharing meals occasionally. It wasn’t that you wanted to be cruel; you just couldn’t afford to fall for him. Not now, not when you knew how painful the ending could be.

Your past with Dowon had left its scars, deep and raw, and the thought of letting your guard down again terrified you. Dowon had promised you the world, made you feel loved, only to shatter everything with betrayal. The wounds he left were still fresh, and the fear of repeating that heartbreak was paralyzing.

Niki noticed the distance, the way your conversations became shorter and how you avoided his gaze. He tried to reach out, but the pressure of his exams kept him distracted, and he chalked it up to stress, figuring things would smooth over eventually. Still, a part of him missed the easy connection you shared, the way you used to laugh and talk without any barriers between you.

One day, as you wandered the school hallways lost in your thoughts, the sudden impact of being shoved into the cold metal lockers snapped you back to reality. A loud clang echoed through the corridor, drawing the attention of nearby students, who turned to watch with wide eyes but made no move to intervene.

Your heart raced as you tried to pull away, struggling against the firm grip that pinned you. It was Dowon, his face twisted with a mix of anger and smug satisfaction as he held you against the lockers, his grip rough and unrelenting.

“Stop! Let me go!” you yelled, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. You thrashed against his hold, your body instinctively trying to break free, but he was stronger, and the pressure of his weight kept you trapped.

Dowon sneered, his eyes dark with malice as he leaned in closer. “You think you can just walk away? You’re nothing without me,” he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. He moved to press his lips against yours, not out of any genuine affection but as a cruel reminder of the control he used to wield over you, the humiliation stinging more than any physical pain.

Rina stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a twisted smile of satisfaction. She relished in your distress, pleased by the spectacle of your helplessness, her eyes glinting with malice as she watched you squirm.

Just as you felt the sickening proximity of Dowon’s breath, a commotion in the crowd caught your attention. Niki, who had been walking by, stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

His eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling as he took in the scene: Dowon pinning you to the lockers, the sneering expression on his face, and the group of students watching like it was some kind of twisted show. The disbelief quickly gave way to anger, a fiery protectiveness flaring up inside him as he pushed his way through the crowd.

“Niki!” You spotted him just as he started to move, his steps purposeful, but before he could reach you, a sharp, pained scream tore through the air. Everyone, including Niki, froze for a moment, stunned and confused, eyes darting around to find the source of the noise. It took Niki a second to realize it was Dowon who had screamed, his face contorted in agony as he doubled over, clutching himself.

Niki’s gaze dropped to see you standing there, your breath ragged and face flushed with adrenaline. You had kicked Dowon squarely in the groin, your expression fierce and unapologetic, the pent-up anger and frustration finally boiling over. Dowon staggered back, his eyes wide with a mixture of pain and shock, clearly not expecting you to fight back so fiercely.

“You bitch!” Dowon spat, his voice laced with both rage and humiliation. He tried to straighten up, but the pain made him buckle again.

Rina, seeing Dowon’s vulnerability, started to rush forward, her face a mask of fury. She was ready to defend him, to turn the situation against you once more, but before she could reach you, Niki stepped in. With swift precision, he landed a solid punch on Dowon’s jaw, sending him stumbling back into the lockers. The sound of the impact echoed through the hallway, a collective gasp rippling through the onlookers.

Niki stood between you and Dowon, his posture tense, fists clenched, and eyes blazing with fury. He turned slightly, just enough to glance back at you, his expression softening when he saw the tear tracks on your cheeks, the lingering fear in your eyes. He reached out, gently cupping your face with one hand, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low but filled with concern, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hurt.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of his touch and the protective stance he took in front of you made your insides twist with conflicting emotions. You wanted to sink into his comfort, to let yourself be vulnerable, but the walls you had built around your heart were still there, still reminding you of the risks.

Dowon, still reeling from both your kick and Niki’s punch, glared at Niki with venom in his eyes. “You think you can just—”

“Shut up,” Niki snapped, his voice dangerously calm. He didn’t bother looking at Dowon, his focus entirely on you. “If you ever touch her again, you’ll regret it.”

The weight of Niki’s words hung heavily in the air, a clear warning that left no room for argument. Dowon, clutching his bruised jaw and still hunched over in pain, knew better than to push his luck. He staggered back, shooting you one last spiteful look before limping away, Rina following closely behind, her smug confidence deflated.

The hallway slowly returned to its usual buzz as the crowd dispersed, students whispering and casting glances your way. Niki remained close, his protective stance unwavering as he watched Dowon disappear around the corner. Finally, he turned to face you fully, his hands dropping to his sides, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Niki’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge of hurt beneath his words. “I could’ve done something sooner.”

You looked down, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the fresh wave of tears. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve got your own stuff to deal with… your exams, graduation…”

Niki reached out, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, his proximity making your heart race all over again. “You’re not a bother,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “Not now, not ever.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. The hallway, once filled with chaos and noise, now felt like it belonged to just the two of you. Niki’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make your resolve waver, the walls around your heart starting to crumble.

“You matter to me,” Niki continued, his voice softening. “More than you know.”

The confession hung in the air, fragile and vulnerable, and you couldn’t help but let a tear slip down your cheek. Niki’s gaze softened even more as he wiped it away, his touch warm and reassuring. For the first time in a long while, you felt seen, truly seen, and the fear of falling, of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt, started to feel a little less daunting with Niki standing there, unwavering and true.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your forehead resting against his, the closeness between you both charged with unspoken emotions. Niki didn’t pull away; instead, he stayed still, his breath mingling with yours in the narrow space between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had just happened, you let yourself believe—if only for a second—that maybe, just maybe, this ending wouldn’t be like the last.

The dorm room door clicked shut behind you, and the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights filled the space. Niki dropped his bag by the door, glancing back at you with a soft smile as you lingered near the entrance, your eyes distant and lost in thought. He could see the way your shoulders were still tense, the echoes of the hallway confrontation still weighing on you.

“You were good today,” Niki murmured, stepping closer. His voice was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid any louder would break the fragile calm between you. “Fighting them off like that. You were… amazing.” There was a glimmer of admiration in his eyes, mixed with something deeper, something that made your heart clench.

You nodded absently, but your mind was elsewhere. There was only a month left until Niki’s graduation, and the looming prospect of his departure cast a long shadow over every shared moment. The thought of him leaving gnawed at you, and despite how hard you tried to push it away, the fear was relentless, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

Niki’s brows furrowed as he watched you, his smile fading when he noticed the frown etched on your face. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm in a light, reassuring touch. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, biting your lower lip as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill. The question that had been clawing at your heart finally escaped in a soft, trembling whisper. “Will you… forget me once you graduate?”

The words hung between you, heavy and vulnerable, and Niki’s expression softened. He didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, grounding you in a way that nothing else could. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, and it was as if he were trying to convey everything he couldn’t say in words through the closeness alone.

“Stupid girl,” Niki muttered into your hair, his voice filled with a tender exasperation. He held you tighter, his fingers threading through your hair, his touch both gentle and firm. “I’ve loved you for all those years while you were dating Dowon, and now that I finally have you out of that hell, why would I forget you?”

His words were so matter-of-fact, spoken as if they were the most natural thing in the world, as if the idea of ever letting you go was something that had never even crossed his mind. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt, but all you found was sincerity, raw and unguarded. It made your heart stutter in your chest, the truth of his confession sinking in.

“I—” you began, your voice faltering as uncertainty crept in. You couldn’t understand why someone like Niki would feel that way about you, someone who had always been so confident, so capable. “Why would you like me?”

Niki’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had slipped free. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw as he considered your question. “Why not?” he replied simply, his tone gentle but firm, as if he were countering an argument he’d heard a thousand times before.

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up as you tried to articulate the insecurities that had been festering inside you. “Because I’m short, I cry too much, I’m weak… I can’t do anything without help, I don’t get good grades—” The words tumbled out in a rush, each one carrying a weight of self-doubt that had built up over the years. But before you could finish, Niki pulled you in tighter, cutting you off with the sudden intensity of his embrace.

“Stupid,” he whispered against your ear, his voice low and filled with a quiet fierceness that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re really stupid if you think any of that matters to me.”

You felt his hands slide up to cup your face, tilting it so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, and you could see the conviction there, the unyielding certainty that left no room for doubt.

“You’re not weak,” he continued, his voice steady and unwavering. “You’re strong. Stronger than you know. You kicked Dowon today. You stood up for yourself. You’re not afraid to show your emotions, and that’s not a weakness—it’s brave.”

His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, wiping away the remnants of your tears, his touch tender and careful. “You make people feel like they matter, you care more than anyone I’ve ever met, and you try so damn hard even when things get tough. That’s what I see when I look at you. Not grades, not height, none of that. Just you.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. It was overwhelming, this outpouring of affection and reassurance, and you felt your defenses crumbling, the walls you’d built to protect yourself from heartache starting to give way. Niki’s hands remained on your face, steady and grounding, his touch a reminder that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Why are you so sure about me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palms a comforting anchor.

“Because I’ve watched you,” Niki said softly, his breath mingling with yours in the narrow space between you. “I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve never once doubted that you’re worth it. Worth everything.”

The vulnerability in his voice matched your own, and for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he was right. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his wrist, your touch light and tentative. “I don’t want to be forgotten,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your fears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Niki’s grip tightened, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath warm and reassuring. “You won’t lose me,” he promised, the conviction in his voice strong and unwavering. “No matter where I go or what happens after graduation, you’re stuck with me. Got it?”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit as you nodded. “Got it,” you whispered, a smile finally breaking through the tears.

Niki’s lips brushed your forehead, a soft, lingering kiss that felt like a seal of his promise, a quiet assurance that you were not alone in this. The world outside the dorm room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment, the quiet hum of the lights and the soft rhythm of your breathing the only sounds filling the space.

You held onto each other, the uncertainties of the future still lingering, but with the warmth of his embrace, the fears didn’t seem as daunting, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope.

The auditorium was buzzing with excitement and the hum of proud conversations. Graduates dressed in their caps and gowns were surrounded by family and friends, the air filled with laughter, cheers, and the occasional tearful embrace. Niki stood among them, his smile wide as his parents hugged him tightly, and his friends clapped him on the back in congratulations. But even as he thanked them, his eyes were constantly scanning the crowd, searching for the one face he wanted to see most.

As the ceremony came to an end, the flood of people pouring out into the bright sunshine did little to lift the knot of unease in his chest. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages for the third time, but there was still nothing from you. The smile on his face started to falter, replaced by a flicker of disappointment that he couldn't quite hide.

Niki sighed, running a hand through his hair as he made his way back to the dorms. Even though he’d moved out a few days ago, the empty room called to him, and his feet carried him there on autopilot, his mind still caught up in the absence of your presence.

He opened the door to find the room dark, only the faint glow of the late afternoon sun creeping through the gaps in the curtains. You were there, curled up on your bed, a tangle of sheets wrapped around you as if they were the only thing keeping you anchored. The sight of you asleep, so peaceful and yet so impossibly out of reach, sent a pang through Niki’s chest. He felt both relief and frustration bubble up, clashing in a confusing storm of emotions.

Without a word, Niki dropped his cap and gown on the floor and moved toward you, his footsteps quiet but urgent. He didn’t stop until he was right beside your bed, looking down at you with a mixture of fond exasperation and aching affection. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, and before you could react, Niki was leaning over, his hands bracing on either side of your head as he pinned you gently against the mattress.

“You seriously gave me a heart attack,” he muttered, his voice a low, playful growl that was laced with genuine concern. He flopped down next to you, not caring about the narrow space, and pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate kind of need. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of laundry detergent, comforting and so very Niki. He buried his face in your hair, letting out a deep breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

You shifted slightly, your body relaxing into his embrace even as you kept your eyes closed, your head resting on his shoulder. “I didn’t want to get up,” you mumbled, your voice soft and drowsy, still clinging to the remnants of sleep. There was a vulnerability in your words, a quiet confession that hung in the space between you.

Niki’s brows knitted together, his hold on you tightening just a fraction as he tilted his head to look at you. “Why?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the steady beat of your heart against his side, and it grounded him in a way that nothing else could.

“The dream was pleasant,” you admitted, your eyes still half-closed, the corners of your lips curling up in a small, wistful smile. The way you said it, so soft and fragile, made Niki’s heart twist. He could tell that you were caught between the comfort of the dream and the reality that was now pressing in around you, and for a moment, he felt helpless.

Niki’s gaze softened as he watched you, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm. He understood what you weren’t saying, the fear of what came next, the uncertainty of the future now that graduation had finally come and gone. He didn’t push you to explain, didn’t ask for more than you were willing to give. Instead, he moved closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that lingered, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “You don’t have to wake up if you don’t want to.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body instinctively curling closer to his, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed. The world outside the dorm room ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. Niki’s hands roamed gently, his fingers trailing up your back, over your shoulders, and down your sides, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you, to commit this moment to memory.

A shiver ran down your spine as his touch grew bolder, his lips ghosting over your temple, then lower, tracing the curve of your cheek. Your breath hitched, your eyes finally opening fully to meet his, and the look in Niki’s eyes was intense, filled with an emotion that made your heart race. He didn’t need to say anything more; the way his gaze held yours, unwavering and full of quiet longing, spoke volumes.

Niki’s mouth found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that made your head spin. It was as if he were pouring all of his unspoken words, his fears and hopes, into that kiss, and you felt yourself melting into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more heated, more desperate, as if both of you were trying to grasp onto something solid in the midst of the uncertainty.

You broke away first, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts as you stared at him, your lips still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Niki’s forehead pressed against yours, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or hesitation. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks, wiping away the lingering traces of tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his voice filled with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. “Not now, not ever. Graduation doesn’t change that.”

You swallowed hard, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and something deeper, something that you were finally beginning to understand. Niki’s unwavering presence, the way he held you without question, without hesitation, was more than you ever thought you deserved. And as you lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, the weight of the future didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you leaned into his touch.

“Promise,” Niki replied, sealing it with another soft, lingering kiss that tasted of reassurance and the beginnings of something new, something that would not fade with the passing of time.

And in that moment, as the last rays of the afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this was your new beginning.

i just want to say thanks to those who supported and left sweet messages on my last fic, it meant a lot <3

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worldlxvlys · 7 months

Note

Can we get a Matt using a vibrator on the reader infront of his brothers and he edges her but she finishes so he takes her homes and punishes her fic plsss.

vibe

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, use of vibrator in public, edging, orgasm denial, p in v, creampie, overstimulation, fingering, spanking, choking, degradation

a/n: hope u like <33

i looked at myself in the mirror, smoothing out the end of my dress.

i tilted my head to the side as matt wrapped his hands around my waist, burying his nose into my neck.

“you look so good, baby” he mumbled into my skin.

“you think so?” i asked, my eyes fluttering closed as he left kisses against my skin.

“matt, we’re gonna be late to dinner” i breathed out, but tilted my head farther to give him more access.

he chuckled at this, “seeing as how i’m everyone’s ride, they can wait” he spoke as his hands crept under my dress.

he moved my underwear to the side and inserted a finger into my entrance without warning.

“fuck, matt” i moaned out.

he used his free hand to cover my mouth while his other inserted another finger into me.

“stay quiet, baby” he whispered as he continued to fuck his fingers into me.

suddenly, his fingers were removed from me just as quickly as they had been inserted.

i whined into his hand as he reached into his pocket for something.

“just needed to stretch you out, my love” he said as his fingers were replaced with a cold object.

“oh my god” i moaned as my tight hole was stretched out.

“matt what- FUCK!” i cut myself off with a moan of suprise when i felt a strong vibration in my core.

i gripped his arm as matt brought his phone into view.

“ i have full control baby” he said.

it’s a vibrator that he can control on his phone.

fuck.

suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, followed by nick’s voice.

“can you guys hurry up? we’re hungry!”

deciding to tease me, matt suddenly switched the vibrator to the highest setting possible.

my body lurched forward as i brought my hand to my mouth, biting it.

i tried my hardest to suppress my moans as my entire body shook.

this shit is powerful.

“sorry, what was that nick?” matt yelled back, purposely stalling so nick would stay by the door longer.

matt smirked at me, watching me struggle to contain myself.

“just give us a few” i screamed out, willing nick to walk away.

“ok, chop chop!” he yelled back, before his footsteps retreated.

“well this is gonna be fun” matt spoke smugly, before turning the vibrator off.

“hurry up, baby. we’ve made them wait long enough” he raised his eyebrows tauntingly.

this sick fuck.

i just narrowed my eyes at him as i attempted to collect myself.

we were now sat at a booth in a local restaurant, matt and i seated next to each other and across from nick and chris.

matt hadn’t touched the controller for the vibrator since we left his room, and i honestly had forgotten about it completely.

we all looked over our menus, deciding what we wanted before the waitress came over.

as soon as it was my turn to order, i felt the low vibration inside of me.

i shakily inhaled, attempting to keep it together.

as soon as i opened my mouth to speak, however, the vibration intensified.

“can i” i cleared my throat, “ i-i have an iced tea?”

the waitress looked at me oddly, but nodded, nonetheless.

after i struggled through the rest of my order, the waitress collected the menus and walked away.

chris immediately spoke up, “you ok? you seem…off”

“yeah!” i blurted out, rather loudly.

his eyes widened at my sudden outburst, but he decided not to question it, “…ok” he replied.

i swallowed harshly as matt placed his hand on my thigh, making my dress ride up slightly.

i glared up at him as he looked at me with an evil glint in his eye.

he leaned closer to my ear and whispered, “ i promise if you cum, you’ll regret it. be a good girl and hold it. nod if you understand.”

i nodded lightly, and he immediately turned it up to full power.

i immediately gripped onto the edge of the table as my hips jerked forward under the table.

thankfully, chris and nick were too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice my reaction.

my underwear was drenched in my arousal and i bit my lip to stop myself from screaming out.

waves of pleasure shot throughout my entire body and i closed my eyes to hide the fact that they were rolling into the back of my head.

matt’s hand found its way under my dress and his fingers rubbed my clit through my panties.

“seems like you’re close, ma. you better not cum” he whispered as my body began to shake.

i quickly tapped my leg against the ground, making it look like i was shaking due to my leg bouncing up and down, rather than my boyfriend fucking me with a vibrator under the table.

“matt” i moaned under my breath, only loud enough for him to hear.

i was on the brink of an orgasm, when matt turned the vibrator off.

“fuck” i shakily sighed out.

“you ok?” nick asked, catching my sigh of disappointment.

“yeah, my head is just killing me” i answered, before turning to matt.

he looked at me innocently, as though he hadn’t just ruined my orgasm.

“you probably just need some food is all” he smiled before leaving a kiss to my forehead.

the majority of the dinner went like this, up until the food arrived.

matt teased me relentlessly, building up my pleasure and taking it away just before i got the chance to release.

each time, he waited longer and longer to halt the vibrations, trying to see how long i could hold out before breaking.

by this point, i didn’t care about anything other than finishing, i had completely lost my appetite for food. i was hungry for something else entirely.

once our food was placed in front of us, matt turned the vibrator onto the highest setting.

i placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing with all of my might.

tears pricked at the corner of my eyes as the toy pulsated against my sensitive walls, but i quickly blinked them away as i reached for my fork.

what i failed to realize, however, was that i wouldn’t be able to keep my fork steady due to the amount of shaking i was doing.

this caught the attention of both nick and chris.

“hey, are you sure you’re ok? you’re literally shaking” nick spoke up.

“o-oh, yeah. i think i’m just kinda anxious y-you know? lots of people in here” i spoke as a shiver ran down my spine at the intense amount of pleasure i was receiving, “plus, i’m just really hungry” i finished as i shoveled food into my mouth.

matt quickly threw his arm around me, rubbing my arm gently, “hey, it’s ok baby. i’m right here” he pretended to coax me, knowing damn well what the real problem was.

his hand moved to my back, before creeping its way down to my ass.

he gave it a squeeze, and i hid my face into his neck.

“don’t fucking do it” he whispered, knowing i was close.

“matt, i c-can’t hold it” i whispered into his ear.

“you can and you will” he whispered back.

my mouth hung open and my eyes rolled back as i dug my nails into his arm.

i tried not to give any indications of my incoming orgasm, but he knew my body too well to be fooled.

i gently bit the skin of his neck as i felt my juices leak out of me and into my panties.

my body continued to shake lightly against him as the powerful vibrations shot through my oversensitive pussy.

“did you just cum?” he asked in a chillingly low voice.

i lowly whimpered against his neck, not being able to form words as the effects of my orgasm still took over my body.

he gently pulled away from me and turned the vibrator off, and went back to eating his food.

for the rest of the dinner, he didn’t say a word to me, unless it had something to do with the conversation he held with his brothers.

when we got back home, we bid his brothers good night and he took me to his room without a single word.

once we got to his room, he closed and locked the door behind us.

“matt?” i asked as he pulled his shirt off.

“take off your clothes, right now” he spoke firmly, as he did the same to himself.

i quickly followed suit, until i was bare in front of him.

“what the fuck did i tell you in that restaurant?” he spoke as he turned me around, making me face away from him.

he ran his hand along my ass before giving it a firm slap.

i moaned out in surprise, “not to cum!” i spoke in response.

“oh, so you did hear me? you just didn’t feel like listening, huh?”

another slap.

“answer me.” he spoke before slapping me again.

“i’m sorry, i just couldn’t hold it” i whispered out.

he smacked my ass again, “speak up”

“i couldn’t hold it! i’m sorry, matt!” i yelled. at this point, i didn’t really care if his brothers heard me.

“hmm, you just wanna cum so badly, huh? ok. you wanna act like a cumslut? i’ll make you one”

i moaned at the thought of that.

“yeah? you like that? of course you do. my dirty girl” he pushed me onto the bed, making me land on my stomach.

“you gonna make me cum yourself or did you need the vibrator again?” i asked, testing his limits.

i shouldn’t have done that.

—

bang, bang, bang.

his headboard repeatedly slammed against his wall, his thrusts were sharp and hard.

my mouth hung open, spit dribbling out as he pounded into me from behind.

i lost count of the amount of times he had made me cum on his dick.

“you’re awfully quiet, ma. what’s wrong? did i fuck you speechless?” he asked as he slapped my ass.

he pulled out for a second, before turning me onto my back.

without missing a beat, he entered me again, making my back arch off of the bed.

“wanna see the face you make when i fuck every thought out of your brain”

my eyes were crossed at this point, makeup smudged, and my mouth stuck in an o-shape.

“look at you, you’re fucking ruined”

he slapped my tits, making my face scrunch up in pleasure.

his tatted arm reached up, and his hand wrapped around my throat.

“can a vibrator make you feel like this?” he growled out.

“no! no, only you matt!”

“you sure? cause if you want, i can stop. we’ll let your vibrator finish the job” he taunted.

“mmmmmm, no! i mean yes, i’m sure! i’m sure matt, oh my god” i babbled, as i dug my nails into his back.

“matt, i’m so close”

“yeah? me too, baby. c’mon, want you to cream all over my cock” he groaned.

i looked between us where our bodies met, the sight of his pleasure from the previous rounds being pushed into me sending me over the edge.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” i screamed at the top of my lungs as i released on his dick, matt following right behind me.

he rode out our highs for a few seconds longer and pulled out of me.

my body laid limp as i attempted to regain my breathing.

“you ok?” matt asked me, placing a kiss on my forehead.

“fuck yes. are you ?” i asked in response.

“yeah” he breathed out with a smile on his face.

“let’s get you cleaned up” he said as he grabbed a clean washcloth from his bathroom.

while he cleaned us up, he whispered soft praises into my ear, reassuring me how good i was for him.

when he finished, he threw the dirty cloth into his hamper.

he gave me a shirt to wear and pulled on his boxers and a pair of sweats.

“i’ll be back, just gonna go grab some waters for us” he spoke gently, leaving a kiss on my cheek before exiting his room.

i checked my phone, seeing several missed messages.

nick <33

get that dick sisss

wait that’s literally my brother wtf

you two sick fucks are actually disgusting

chris <33

i hate you both

you’re so fucking loud

and the shaking at the dinner table ? you are some freaky fuckers

🌸🌸🌸🌸

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @vib3swithanuk @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @annelisseakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @lolll1029

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princessbrunette · 8 months

Text

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

rafe and casual dominance is so funny because he’s kind of mean about it ??

coming back to his room after you eat, all smiles — having missed him in the short ten minutes you’d been in separate parts of the house. you approach him, all over him like usual and his large hands paw at your little sundress.

“why are you wet?” he furrows exasperatedly, clearly not feeling any kind of way about it as you were always up to something.

“um, i washed a spoon and it washed me back.” you pout, only really focused on clambering onto his lap.

“so use the dishwasher. s’not there for decoration, kid.” he helps you up, straddling his lap so you could wrap your arms around his neck. he plucks the thin material of your dress between his fingers. “and get this off, would you?”

if you’re cooking, he’s hovering around you scooping up your mess, in the end just taking over if you’re taking too long to chop something or open a container because he’d rather just do it himself than watch you struggle. he’s actually rather quiet about it, aside from the odd sigh or “what would you do without me, huh?”

and of course, if you’re a messy eater he’s gonna be stressed. cupping his hand beneath your mouth whilst you happily chew away at your lunch, the two of you sat at the country club. “you’re like a child, jesus.” he murmurs, but will still mop up your cheek with a napkin, asking under his breath how you managed to get pasta sauce on your forehead.

this has definitely been mentioned on this blog before, but if you get in rafes way, he will straight up bulldoze through you… storming in your direction and slotting his hands under your arms, lifting you to the side without breaking his stride. your legs swing momentarily in the air — nearly stumbling as you land and follow him with a pout.

“hey!” you whine petulantly at him treating you like an inanimate object.

“stay outta my way, baby.” he murmurs, barely giving a shit.

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#rafe cameron prompt

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saphirafoxgirlspost1 · 9 months

Text

(Open Rp) Helluvaboss X Hazbinhotel in "Suitors Delima"

(Warning, this contains NSFW, Muscle growth, transformation, Ect. If your a Minor please don't reply to this..Viewer disgression is advised)

On the Glorious day At the Kingdom of The Mystic Inferno Fox, The Last Suitor was Kicked Out from the Kingdom..as the guard told the bad Suitor that he's no longer set foot in this castle again…Saphira The True Ruler of hell was Standing there watching the Bad Suitor walks away all beat up and torn..Saphira was Quite Stern..the reason why he was beat it..He Dared to lay a horrible Hands On Her which is a Huge Mistake..But Luckily..He Kept his hands though..otherwise his hands will be chopped off Sooner.. Then Saphira goes back to her throne..rubbing her Forehead with fustration and growls…Knowing that She wouldn't allow Abuse In this hell..then Her Goetia Royal Advisor (which she is a Snowy Owl) Name "Eliza" Comes to her..and she said with a warm concerning tone,

Eliza: "Oh dear Friend, I knew This Suitors is nothing but trouble.. and I don't blame you for Banishing him For Daring to lay hands on you..Luckily He kept his hands as well."

Saphira: "Indeed, Other wise..he'll be left with no hands at all. heh"

Saphira Use her magic to spawn a wine glass full of greatest wine in hell and took a sip of it..but then Eliza said,

Eliza:"So..What Shall we do? You must find Someone who is worthy for your hands as well Your Majesty.."

Saph:" I know..but many suitors of Hell was not Worthy..they're Beyond redemtion as well…Maybe I should go Up to the Mortal World..luckily..I live in the Nice Mansion but I need to blend in So that way the Humans Doesn't Know That I'm the Kitsune that has the Royal Mistical Blood.."

Eliza: "I agree..this is the Only way To Find Someone To marry you and I meant Someone Who is Worthy For your Hand Your Majesty."

Saphira Nodded and Use Her Spells to transport herself and Eliza To the Mortal World..inside of her Beautiful Luxurious Mansion..Eliza in human Form..She has White hair and Yellow Diamond eyes..and Saphira in human form is White hair and Blue Sapphire eyes as she dressed so Lovely and elegant clothes. In the Mortal World, Saphira is Super famous that she OutShine Verosika for a famous concerts, Musics, Modeling, especially Movie and Tv star itself as well…and also She owns her company called "Fire Fox co."…So Now..saphira smiles and said,

Saph:"It is good to be back on top, Sighs best things ever.."

She smiles but faded and said,

Saph:"I pray to inari if I ever find someone, I hope He'll treat me Like a queen..or a goddess more or less.."

Eliza: "Of course Dear, Don't worry There's alot of good man out there waiting for you..you'll see"

So Saphira Nodded knowing that Eliza's Reassuring her, Knowing that There's a Hope that someone who would love her…But..There's someone Who is a Scientist and He Always..and Mean Always was Obsessed with her so much that he will Do anything to win her heart, So he Decided to make a Potion which will make him More Hotter and Seductive as ever But Little Does he Knows That the potion will cause him to have a Split Personality Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde…Meanwhile Saphira was Riding a Limo With Eliza who is now To humans It's Her Assistant Manager as She head to the Company For Modeling…So During the modeling..She hears the knocking and said," OH! Come in, come in…Lets see who was it?" Then the Door Opens When she sees Her Old good nerdy friend and she said"OH! My good Darling friend! How have you been!?" She got up and Hugs him and then he said…

#Open Rp #Romance #Drama #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

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zhongrin · 2 years

Text

“no, i’m not jealous.”

— he is, most definitely, jealous.

◇ characters ◇ zhongli (ft. platonic!childe), al haitham, ayato, cyno

◇ tags ◇ fluff, crack, (character) is so totally not jealous, okay? okay.

◇ a/n ◇ i wrote this at like 2am don’t @/ me-

bad summary of content utc: 1) rip childe. 2) legends say you can foretell your future by the shape of al haitham's pecs. 3) ayato vs taroumarou; who wins? the result might surprise you. 4) cyno just wants some cuddles someone save him.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli, jealous? ridiculous.

zhongli is unyielding and self-assured. he was a revered archon, for celestia’s sake; he knows he’s wanted, and even now as a mortal he’s not foreign to the longing looks, stuttered words, and the blushes that rise to his fellow mortals’ cheeks whenever he speaks to them.

and you - you want him just as much, if not more; yet you’re different than the others in the way that you’ve successfully managed to carve a perfect little home in his heart and chose to stay there, much to his delight.

you’ve promised him your heart and the entirety of your life. he’s promised you happiness and his eternal love. you’ve been bound by the most sacred contract of all, the proofs of your vows to each other clearly wrapped onto your ring fingers.

so really, what would such petty, shallow emotion like jealousy serve?

“wow, you’re really good with your hands!”

“i’m not sure if being able to use chopsticks is a good measurement of one’s proficiency with their hands, but... thanks?”

“isn’t it harder to-” childe pauses to speak when you offer him a bite of sweet-and-sour pork and rice, gratefully takes the food, and hums in appreciation before continuing his words, “-feed others with a chops-”

“chew and swallow first; you’ll choke.”

the harbinger obediently obeys, but not before chirping a playful “okay mom/dad!” with his mouth full. you sigh and turn towards your abnormally silent lover, finding him barely picking at his own food.

“li? why aren’t you eating?”

“hm? i was just… thinking.”

“thinking,” you repeat with a fond roll of your eyes and a teasing grin on your lips, “when are you not? well, i’m sure you haven’t forgotten how to use chopsticks, so i don’t need to feed you, right?”

your husband’s lips part, as if he wanted to say something, but right at the same moment, you notice childe trying to pick up his rice, failing miserably with his horrible chopsticks control. as if on autopilot, you used your utensils to pick up the grains from his bowl into his mouth.

zhongli’s words fizzle on his tongue. the way you fuss over the brunette fuels the rumbling growls of the slumbering dragon which has been sleeping for eons, slowly baring its fangs inside his chest. gloved fingers wrap around his teacup a tad too tight, but alas, you fail to notice your brooding husband's silent fury.

he knows it’s just your instinct, to care for others and to cater to other people’s happiness. it’s one of the traits he adores from you. if anything, it looks more like a parent-child(e) relationship rather than that of lovers - besides, no personage living in liyue would think of you as the snezhnayan's significant other. that, he is confident of.

but do you really have to hand-feed a grown-up man - a fatui harbinger who almost leveled your whole nation onto the seabed at that - who was most definitely capable of feeding himself, and with your chopsticks nonetheless- wait.

before you can bring the two sticks anywhere near the plates containing childe’s food, your husband's hand gently pushes your chopsticks away. upon the questioning arch of your eyebrows, he opts for a patient and calm-sounding tone, “darling, please. eat. you haven’t touched your food for far too long.”

he then replaced your set of utensils with his own; the movement so smooth and natural you didn’t even notice, before turning to childe and scooping the extra spicy vegetable stir fry towards the brunette.

childe’s blue eyes widen in half shock and half embarrassment, and you nearly choke on your food at the comical sight.

“um-”

“eat.”

“a-ah, miss xiangling, can i have a spoo-”

“eat.”

no, he most definitely isn’t jealous.

“-who’s my prettiest boy? yes you are!”

“… what in teyvat are you doing?”

you blink innocently at your boyfriend, who had just woken up judging from the way his coat is still missing from his person, and momentarily your eyes flit downwards to appreciate the way his muscles look in his tight black bodysuit.

hmmm. ah, yes. you can see it from the way his abs look today. it is going to be a good day.

“hey,” a condescending snap of his fingers right in front of your face, and you glare at the smug expression on al haitham's face, “eyes up here.”

“i wasn’t looking at your pecs.”

“i never said anything like that.”

“not your manboobs either.”

“for the hundredth time, i do not have manboobs. and for the second time, i never said nor implied anything even remotely close to that.”

“well, i would like to inform you that i was not.”

al haitham gives you a knowing smirk and you huff in embarrassment, choosing to ignore him by looking away and refocusing on the tiny sprout (the actual plant, not that little adorable sprout on the top of his head), smiling and going back to the higher, loving pitch you used previously.

“i’m sorry baby, ignore mr. narcissist over there. now. you’re growing up so well! i can’t wait to see you grow taller and see the beautiful blooms you make! i just know my little pogchamp will-”

“what in lord kusanali’s name are you doing?”

“shut your damn mo- ahem!” you sigh and throw a pointed look at the scribe, “i am conducting a research, mind you. kindly fu- i mean- kindly ignore me and go prepare for your day.”

“enlighten me, then. what kind of research involves baby-talking to a plant?”

you roll your eyes and turn to address him properly, “ugh, fine, if you’re soooo curious, i’ll tell you. so, i read a research journal that testified something along the line of ‘speaking positive words, such as encouragements and praises to a plant, will aid its growth and make them bloom faster’. i’m trying to test that theory. now - this is veveh. i am going to tell him he’s a good, beautiful boy every day and praise him and sing for him. that one,” you point towards the plant at the far opposite side of the room near the windows, “is hawky. i’m going to tell him he’s a bast- the opposite of what veveh is. and we have [nickname] in our bathroom, which will be the control group. i’m going to give them all an equal amount of sunlight and water, and i have a journal and a kamera to regularly record the state of the plants. i plan to monitor them at least three times a day, and-”

“and who named these stupid plants?”

you gasp, scandalized, and swiftly move to cover veveh as if you’re covering a child’s ears from harmful words. which, in this case, the image isn’t far from the truth in your eyes.

“hey!! what did i say?! watch your words!! and it was kaveh’s idea!”

“of course it was,” the scholar sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you not my significant other? surely you’re smart enough to notice the implications behind the names and the assignments of the roles. why would you agree to make the plant named after me the specific sample that would have to suffer from derogatory words?”

“…”

“…… wait, haitham, are you jealous?”

al haitham blinks and looks at you as if you’ve told him that you’ve replaced him as the akademiya’s scribe and he’s been exiled from the akademiya because his performance is unsatisfactory.

“i never said anything like that.”

“awww, would you like me to tell you you’re a good boy too? want me to tell you how pretty and lovely you are? how you’re doing suuuuch a good job at work? oh, sweetums-”

“i will be leaving now, you’re creeping me out.”

you giggle uncontrollably and lean closer to the tiny plant, snickering and lowering your voice into a whisper as you watch your beloved running away in embarrassment finally leaving you to your own devices, “hey, veveh. your dad is adorable, isn’t he?”

. . . ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

veveh ends up flourishing and its first flower bloomed way ahead of the two, therefore concluding your research on a high note. however, the morning after you submit your first draft of your thesis, you find the plant missing.

instead, in its place is hawky. you also find your boyfriend sitting right beside it, reading his advanced quantum theories book outloud.

yes, your boyfriend is truly very adorable indeed.

ayato loves dogs, he really does.

he also does not condone animal abuse, and that principle is currently the only thread that’s preventing him from pushing the animal away from your lap. your lap, which should have been his pillow. his much-needed, much-deserved, comfiest pillow on teyvat that could make him fall asleep in minutes and is the only reason he would skip work.

“oh, darling, i thought you were busy?” you ask in surprise upon seeing his form standing by the door.

“i needed a break, i was getting a little stressed,” he says, walking towards your side to sit on the cushion, hoping you’ll catch on to what he’s implying with both his words and actions.

your eyes are shining as you regard him, and his heart jumps-

“good job, i’m happy you’re not overworking yourself, love.”

“... why, thank you.”

you nod and glance down as taroumaru twitches and whines in his sleep, crooning softly at the adorable sight of the animal’s twitching legs.

“i wonder what he’s dreaming about,” you giggle softly.

ayato doesn’t understand how you can make him feel as if he’s falling in love with you all over again, yet at the same time, you make him want to punch the nearest wall in frustration.

with a tired sigh, he flops his head onto your shoulder it should have been your lap darn it and he nuzzles into the fabric of your kimono like a cat that’s seeking attention. the sweet soft laugh escapes your lips once more and he waits.

….

.... your hands are still petting the dog.

this is ridiculous, he thinks. the mutt is asleep; surely you would turn your attention to your poor fiancé, right? surely you wouldn’t be so heartless as to ignore him when he’s seeking you out like this? surely you would pity his overworked self and grant him some comfort even just a little-

“you really don’t have any meetings?”

“…. no, i don’t,” he hums casually and adds an exaggerated yawn.

“i think you need a nap, ayato.”

one of your hands finally rests upon his cheek and caresses his skin lovingly. a content little smile stretches his lips, but it disappears when your touch retreats all too soon for his liking.

maybe he should consider having a ‘no pets allowed in kamisato estate’ rule.

the door suddenly slides open to reveal thoma, who took one good look at the two of you and being the ever so polite man that he is, immediately splutters an apology for interrupting what seemed to be an intimate, relaxing moment between lovers.

the yashiro commissioner seizes the chance.

“it's fine, thoma. you’re here to take taroumaru on a walk, yes?”

at the keyword, the canine’s ears flick and his beady eyes open.

“huh? no, i just-”

“wonderful! why don’t you take him on a long walk, i’d say he’s just itching for some exercise after napping for so long.”

“eh? um-” thoma freezes at the cold smile on the young master’s face and forces a laugh at your inquiring gaze, “-y-yeah! waka is completely right! c’mon boy, it’s time for your walk!”

with a happy bark, the dog leaps out from your lap and bounds towards the housekeeper, who gave the two of you a sheepish nod before sliding the door shut.

ayato hums in satisfaction and reclaims his throne. without him even needing to ask, your fingers settle onto his blue locks, blunt nails scratching his scalp. you bend down to place a loving peck on his forehead, your scent envelopes his senses, and he melts.

ah, the taste of victory is always sweet.

“just one more game!”

“but love-”

“just one more game, please please please please!”

cyno sighs, “you said the same thing three rounds ago.”

i’m tired, i want to cuddle you now, the general mahamatra tries to telepathically communicate right into your brain by staring at you with his soft and downturned vermillion eyes. alas, you are too focused on refining your tcg deck and testing it against the man and the legend himself.

“i swear this time it’ll really be the last!!”

being a rather new player that you are, you’re still clumsy in your actions and strategies, but he can sense you improving with every match you lost. the way you’re so passionate and fully throw yourself into the things you’re interested in never fails to bring a sense of pride into his heart, but seriously - even the most serious of men needs a cuddle every now and then. plus, you fit so well into his arms! can you blame him for being a little needy after a whole three hours of being denied any sort of affection despite the fact that you’re seated right across this stupid table??

you can’t and you shouldn't.

“you promise this will be the last round?”

“for today, yes!”

your boyfriend sighs and nods. yes, his need to cradle you in his arms is overwhelming. but when you look at him with eyes that shine brighter than the stars in the desert at night, how can he refuse? he’d give you a whole oasis if you asked for it. he can last just one more round of tcg.

... right?

cyno swears it has to be the longest match of his life.

you’re so cute when you’re thinking over your actions; eyes gazing upon your cards and his in contemplation as you mumble strategies under your breath. you’re so cute when you do a little cheer as the dice gods graced you with luck on your dice rolls. you’re so cute when you gasp in awe as he pulls a rather tricky maneuver that ruined your plans to attack his deck in this round.

archon kusanali give him strength, for you’re so cute and he wants a cuddle so badly.

“nooooooo,” you cry out in despair as he downs the last two of your characters at the same time with a well-timed elemental reaction, your body slumping against the table.

cyno can’t help but smile, although he does feel a bit bad from beating you yet again, so he decides to give you a little tip to hopefully cheer you up, “almost got me there. why don’t you try using a freeze team next time? you have the cards for it, and i think it'll suit your playstyle.”

at once, your head snaps up and you meet his gaze with determined eyes.

oh.

oh, he just dug a grave for himself didn’t he.

“[name]-”

“you’re right. let me- let me rebuild my deck, wait-”

“you promised-”

“i know, i know! just- fifteen minutes! give me fifteen minutes!!”

cyno wishes he could bang his head against the table, rattle his stupid brain and zip big mouth shut.

he just wants a cuddle.

why is it so hard to get a cuddle?

what’s a man gotta do these days for a cuddle??

cyno sees you staring at your character cards with your hand on your chin, clearly in deep thought. your boyfriend then opts to glare at his character cards, as if they were the ones who had stolen his cuddles, but a few seconds into that and he scoffs, looking away to the side as warmth rapidly bloomed across his cheeks.

seriously, what kind of man gets jealous of a card game?

but cuddles...

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #rin writes

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morganitering · 10 months

Text

Because I'm the Weakest

Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader

Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse

Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.

Word count: ~6,5k

Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.

A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3

read on ao3 PART II

“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.

“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.

He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.

“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.

“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.

“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.

“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.

“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.

The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.

You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.

It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.

“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”

“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.

“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.

“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.

“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.

“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”

So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.

You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.

“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.

You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.

“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.

“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.

“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.

“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.

You scratched your neck awkwardly.

“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.

At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.

Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.

Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.

The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.

The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.

You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.

Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.

“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.

You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.

“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.

“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.

“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.

“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.

The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.

“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.

“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.

“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.

“What the-” you got cut off.

“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.

“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.

“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.

“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.

His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.

“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.

“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!

“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.

It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.

The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.

“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.

“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.

The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.

“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.

You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.

“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.

You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.

“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.

“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.

“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.

“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.

“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.

“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.

“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.

“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.

Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.

“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.

You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.

“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.

He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.

“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.

You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.

You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.

“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.

“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.

You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.

Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.

“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.

There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.

“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.

Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.

“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.

“Arch your back.”

You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.

“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.

Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.

Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.

“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.

Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.

“Open.”

Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.

You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.

Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.

“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.

Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.

“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.

Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.

“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.

Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.

There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.

Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.

“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.

“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.

Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.

“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.

Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.

It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.

***

It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.

With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.

You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”

The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.

The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.

The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.

“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.

“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”

You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.

Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.

You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.

There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.

You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.

You repeated it once.

Twice.

Until your skin was scrubbed dry.

You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.

You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.

“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”

Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.

“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.

“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.

Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.

“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.

You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.

“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”

That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.

“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.

“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.

“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”

You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.

“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.

“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.

You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.

Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.

You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.

#tw: noncon #dark fic #yandere jjk #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo satoru #gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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lordprettyflackotara · 4 months

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hitchhiker || chapter three || the proxies

tw: mentions of murder (the usual), descriptions of gore, simpy Tim

a/n: the next chapter is going to be sum else. prepare yourselves now ;)

<— chapter two

You turned to Nova, who quickly led you over to your living room.

“I understand being excited about this case but I could’ve invited him in if you weren’t here,” You sighed. Nova’s curls were in space buns, her bare baby face staring back at you with a frown. “Well I guess it’s a good thing I was here then. Last thing you need is dick from a literal hitchhiker,” She argued sassily. She put her hands on her hips, giving you a motherly look. You rolled your eyes, Nova reaching out and grabbing your wrist.

“I have to show you, you’re the only person I can trust,” She explained. She led you over to your living room, documents and photographs laid all over your white living room carpet. “Is it really okay for me to see all of this?” You questioned. She sat down on the floor, excitedly patting the spot beside her. “Absolutely not but that’s why no one else is going to know, right?” Nova said, arching an eyebrow. You joined her on the floor, the sight of all the papers overwhelming. “Right,” You agreed. Nova began dividing up the papers, placing three in front of you.

“They found Winston’s body. Did an autopsy and everything,” Nova began. Your eyes widened in horror. “Found his body? He’s dead?” You gasped. Nova nodded. Her face flashed a glimpse of sadness for a moment before it hardened again. “He was slaughtered. His body was completely dismembered, his torso the only thing left,” She explained. You felt your stomach churn. “Oh God,” You whispered. She began looking for a certain paper, shoving the others aside.

“My guess is that they tried to make his corpse unidentifiable. But they were morons. They didn’t account for his daughter’s name being tatted on his chest. Dead giveaway.”

You arched an eyebrow, “They?”

“I think there’s three of them.”

She pointed at the photographs in front of you. Each one contained individual silver bullets, with different backgrounds. “Those bullets are from a revolver and they’ve been found in all of these cases. From Florida to South Dakota to Oregon,” Nova told you. She brought out three more photos of two women, one man. “Those murders were of the head chiefs investigating this symbol,” She told you. She then held up a crumbled piece of notebook paper with an X through a circle.

“Meanwhile in Rhode Island, Utah, and New York, we’ve found at least four victims with a similar slash wound to the throat,” Nova told you. You cringed at the thought of her bluntly showing you the gore, but instead she held up diagrams of the bodies. Each were drawn and had notes dissecting every little mark on the victims body. “Every single one of them were slashed in the throat with the same blade. Look, same start and end point every time. No jagged edges, just a straight blade,” She pointed out. Nova braced herself as she showed you another pile.

“Now the third set of the victims seem to have it the worst. In Texas, New Mexico, South Carolina and countless other states, there have been findings of bodies like this,” She told you. She set out at least ten papers, the drawn diagram autopsies. You felt your stomach churn as you soaked in all of the pictures. “T-they’re all-” You stuttered, swallowing. Nova nodded affirmatively. Each drawing showed only the torso of the victims, the arms, head, and legs completely chopped off. In each of the drawings the torso itself seemed mangled, torn apart.

“It looks like they’re shot or sliced to death, before they’re dismembered,” She said. You felt your mouth run dry. “One of them shoots the victims or slices them, the third dismembers them,” She told you. You couldn’t make sense of what you were seeing. You grabbed the dreaded symbol of death. The paper was so crumbled it would’ve torn it if you weren’t careful. “I don’t understand, all of this torture and despair over this symbol?” You asked. Nova shifted through the papers, digging out a report. “I don’t know what it means, but I know whoever it belongs to doesn’t want it getting out there,” Nova said. She nervously bit her bottom lip as her eyes darted across all of her papers.

“Who was the first detective? How did they find it?” You asked. She brought out a picture of a tall detective, his hair buzzed and green eyes lit up as he smiled for the photo. “This is detective Wolf. He was investigating a triple homicide. It looks like a daughter murdered her entire family at fourteen and escaped. When they went through the home drawings with those symbols were everywhere,” Nova said. She showed you a picture of the girls bedroom. Pictures of the symbol were plastered all over her walls, along with words scratched onto the walls itself. He’s coming. There’s no escape. It’s him.

The words appeared to be scribbled onto the wall with raw charcoal. Jesus Christ they should’ve gotten that kid some pencils. “Now they just assumed the girl to be schizophrenic. That was until they found the same symbol all the way in Kansas,” Nova told you. You noticed the under eye bags that hung under her chocolate orbs. When was the last time she had slept? “Similar case. Teenage boy lost his shit, stabbed parents to death while little sister was at daycare. Investigated his room and guess what? Same symbol. Same ominous words,” She told you. Digging through her vanilla folder she held out a newspaper article to you. “Now here’s the funny part. Detective Wolf wasn’t killed until the symbol was found again. It’s like whoever this symbol belongs to went back to cover their tracks,” She rambled.

You put your hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of her addictive trance. “I think you’re onto something,” You admitted. She looked at you, her lips dry and face paler than usual. This case looked like it was draining her energy. “But with that being said you need to watch your back. Whatever gang or person or thing that’s behind this has no problem traveling to slaughter someone to keep it sacred. You need to watch your back,” You advised. Nova gave you a tired smile. She placed her hand on yours. “I’m going to solve this case. Just keep a lookout for me on the civilian side of things, alright?” She asked. You nodded. You watched as she grabbed her papers, putting them in a particular order as she organized them back into her folder.

“Why don’t you crash here for the night? Take the bed and i’ll join you in a bit. I think old episodes of friends are running at this time of night,” You suggested. Nova clipped the folder together, securing her findings. “Thanks, you’re the best,” She said. You both rose to your feet, Nova quick to throw her arms around you. “I don’t know what i’d do without you,” Nova mumbled. You squeezed her tighter, knowing how the stress of cases affected her. And truthfully, you didn’t know what you’d do without her either.

“Hey don’t stay up too late, you have work tomorrow!”

You did in fact stay up too late, resulting in you falling asleep on the couch. You were awoken by knocking on your front door. Groggily you dragged yourself over to the door, trying to remember if you put on make up last night so you could rub your eye. You were so tired you didn’t look through the peephole, opening the door. You became fully awake at the sight of Tim. Quickly you brushed your hand over your tangled hair, suddenly becoming self conscious of your appearance. But why should you be? He’s the one that left dinner. He looked he hadn’t slept, his brown eyes looking back at you. He wore his standard mustard yellow jacket, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. You opened your mouth to speak, Tim quick to stop you.

“I know what you’re going to say and before you do let me just say, i’m sorry,” He rambled. You shifted your weight to one leg, looking up at him. Maybe you were a simp. Maybe you were just down bad. But you decided to overlook his weird behavior. “Apology acknowledged. The roses…?” You started to ask, your voice trailing off. Tim awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re for you. I didn’t know what your favorite flower was but I assumed roses would do for now,” Tim said shyly. It was your first time seeing him so relaxed when speaking. He appeared to be alone, Brian and Toby no where in sight. “Apology accepted or denied?” Tim asked you. You took the roses from him, smelling the delicate flowers. “Acknowledged for now. Don’t push it,” You say sternly but in a soft tone. Tim gulped as you signaled for him to come into your apartment.

“You look like you didn’t get much sleep,” You commented. You reached under your kitchen sink, grabbing a vase for the flowers. “Neither do you,” He deflected, trying to change the subject back to you. He liked talking about you. Talking to you. Your face went red as you looked down. “Oh well uh, I was up late with Nova. Fell asleep on the couch,” You admitted, embarrassment practically dripping off of you. You grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting the stems of the roses. “Is Nova your roommate?” Tim asked curiously. You put some water in the vase, finishing cutting the stems. “Oh no she just has a key to my place. Comes over during the day usually but she spends the night sometimes,” You explained.

Tim walked over beside you, leaning against the counter. He was much taller than you, his gaze fully centered on you as put the roses into the vase. His mind was rattled for many reasons. Some suspected Nova had a crush on you but you were oblivious. Some thought Nova was going to endanger you because of her line of work. And some were just flat out jealous a stranger he didn’t know got to spend the night with you instead of him. “Want some coffee?” You asked. Your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’d love some,” He chirped. Your apartment was extremely small to Tim. It looked like you had attempted to make it tidy, but with it being so small all of your items looked cluttered.

“Straight black right?” You asked, setting the vase on your counter. Tim gave you a small smile. “You remembered,” He commented. You popped the empty coffee pot into the machine, pushing a button so the coffee would brew. “Hard to forget when you didn’t order anything else,” You replied. Huh. You were not as oblivious as Tim thought you were. Tim was typically nauseous ninety percent of the time. The only time his body ever really ate a hearty meal was when Masky fronted. If anything, Masky was so gluttonous it explained Tim’s consistent nausea.

Another suspected reason was Tim’s diet. Tim’s diet consisted of coffee and cigarettes. Yum. “So about last night I uh… I want to make it up to you,” Tim told you, trying to continue the conversation. The smell of coffee filled his nose, the scent flooding your apartment. “I thought that’s what the roses were for?” You asked. Mentally you felt like you had every right to be stand offish. Tim and Brian disappeared randomly. And although you were grateful for some time alone with Toby, that didn’t excuse their actions. Especially when no explanation was provided. Not one that’s good enough anyways.

“They are but I wanted to um, ask you if uh, you wanted to go out with me sometime today. Just the two of us,” Tim asked. He felt like a fourteen year old kid who just asked out his middle school crush. You felt your face flush pink. Did Tim just ask you out on a date? “I work until around ten tonight. Are you okay with that?” You asked slowly. After your previous breakup you hadn’t had too much experience with men. A tension began to bubble in the room, one you hadn’t realized was there before. Was Tim trying to hit on you? “Works for me. I don’t think much will be open but we can always walk around the Davidson park,” Tim suggested. He could feel his nerves eating at his bones as he awaited your answer. Davidson park was a massive park given to their town by the state, large oak trees and multiple kinds of flowers planted all over the place.

The coffee had finished brewing, your hand wrapping around the coffee pots handle. “What about Brian and Toby? I know Brian doesn’t like me but Toby and I had a nice walk home together,” You said dryly. You went to grab two mugs, the only two that were clean. You stared at them in the cabinet, your hands hovering over them. You mentally scolded yourself when you realized they were both hello kitty themed. Thanks Nova. “Don’t take Brian personally. He has a hard time socializing. We never stay in one place too long and he’s scared of getting attached,” Tim explained. Technically he wasn’t lying. You tried to nonchalantly pour you both cups of coffee, ignoring Tim’s eyes examining the hello kitty mugs. “What about Toby?” You questioned. One mug had hello kitty dancing and in the other one she’s winking with a wand. You mentally face palmed. Not exactly like there was a more ‘masculine’ mug you could hand him. Or honestly, literally any kind of boring adult mug would’ve worked.

“I think it’s great you guys like each other but i’d like the honor of getting to know you too,” Tim answered quickly. You poured both cups of coffee, deciding on Tim getting the dancing hello kitty mug. He took it without question, sipping the steaming coffee like it was nothing. “Alright let’s call it a date. I’ll meet you at Davidson park around eleven?” You suggested. Tim nodded, watching as you scooped a spoonful of sugar. He couldn’t help but want this routine all of the time. He’d make sure you were taken care of, pampered and fed. With the lack of clean dishes and yesterday’s clothes still on your body, it was apparent to him you were struggling. He didn’t want you to struggle ever again.

As Tim sipped his coffee, all he could think about was all of the ways he wanted to take care of you.

“Hey y/n?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, grabbing your almost empty creamer from your fridge.

“Nice mugs by the way.”

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