#Sans is like the best figure here
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flowerakatsuka · 7 months ago
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my shimamatsu artbook came in so i finally got to see the rest of the unreleased teacher set...
scans of gym teacher oso from this set can be found here!
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choro's a math teacher, which i feel like is pretty fitting for her. they drew her very cute, peak froggy expression.
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ichi's a science teacher, like in teacher matsu merch by movic. he's also setting a bad example for his students by wearing open-toed shoes which is against standard lab safety rules, for shame smh.
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jyushi is an art teacher! very cute, he's definitely fitting the bill of the zany art teacher stereotype.
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totty's an english teacher. he's really meant it when he said he doesn't want to work bc he's giving us NOTHING in that awakened art. his outfits are very cute, though.
" gee, mj. where's kara? wasn't he the one you were the most curious about? " wELL. i waited to share him last bc...
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when i tell you that i opened to this page in art book to find this set, saw kara, and then immediately closed the book...
he's a japanese / literature teacher, which i do think fits. ( still such a missed opportunity to have him as a music teacher... ) * puts my face in my hands * he's such a dork.
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spotaus · 7 months ago
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Coda and Ichor! (Catacombtale Style!)
These two don't have a *ton* of interaction in the Main story, but since Ichor and Balance are the only two characters I've fully designed, Coda gets stuck next to him, haha!
BONUS art jumpscare:
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These two actually exist in another project I'm working on too called Codex, which is basically just removing the UT aspects of Catacombtale and doing a lot more worldbuilding and character design!
Coda is older in Codex and is marked by an old God (which should get him jailed or killed, as it means for everyone else) but he hides it for years and years before he finally flees the complex he's living in to go confront the gods and stop their destructive path. Meanwhile Ichor is much the same, only he's much more ready and willing to help Coda without much prompting. Here he's also sort of a Koi Fish! (His brother is a Betta Fish)
#utmv#utmv sans#utmv oc#my art#spot!drawn#utmv art#Catacombtale#Ichor Sans#Coda#ichor#Ichor is so funny to me because his Brother (Reward) uses puzzles and then a final battle as his “Challenge” but Ichor?#his Challenge is to tell him the best Pun you know. He is the God of Puns after all!#(I think he hides his true nature as God of Punishment from the player as long as possible. saying his bro is so cool for being a major god)#Coda is a human with a lot of integrity and stubborn morals. even Determination can't escape the Gods wrath. but integrity?#Gods have a code to respect a soul who follows their own nature and still co-exists despite it just like themselves#so Coda is primed to help out.#his sister is about 7 abd she's a soul of Bravery#which means Hearth (who watches over her as a safe-space from the eyes of the other gods) has his hands full#trying to keep her from charging after Coda#Coda is so funny because he'll just walk in sonewhere and start a “Nuh-uh” contest with any given god and like... usually ends up winning???#and usually the Challenges are more gentle because he's still a young mortal. hardly a Hero. certainly not the one of prophecy#everyone figures Asgore or Undyne will kill them but uhhh. yeah. no that doesn't happen.#There's a lot of Lore here but like...#one additional thing is that in the story Coda manages to spend enough time with Ichor to obtain an item#“Sans' Protection Charm.” /Ichor gave it to you. Says to keep hold of it when facing danger. It seems like an old keepsake./#that charm is one that Ichor carved years and years ago and he only gives out charms to mortals he cares for#not only has the underground seen his rage boil (even while chained) but they have also seen his sorrow. no one wants to be the one to kill#the mortal he has deemed harmless. some fear he might have another outburst. others worry he'd fall down.#it has no real stat changes but when Coda equips it? it's like turning on Easy Mode for Godly Challenges
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video320 · 6 months ago
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I've appreciated all the love for this drawing. But here is its final form. I'm Tabling at a convention for the 1st time (wish me luck)in October. When Ordering prints I noticed the option for a double-sided print. So I figured I might make use of that option. This is what I came up with. Same portrait, sans cowls. I like drawing superheroes but drawing them with masks means I miss out with faces and drawing them w/o a mask runs the danger of making them unrecognizable. So best of both worlds, I guess. Also, If you are going to UWUcon in AZ this October come find me.
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lightseoul · 1 month ago
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a/n. currently watching single's inferno s4 and this is how it's going. inspired by that exchange between dong ho and a rin. specifically, dong ho's smile during. what the hell am i talking about. (0.9k)
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“you really didn’t have to drive me all the way here, you know.”
you plop down on the spot right next to bakugou, who wordlessly takes the mug of tea you’re offering with a half-hearted glare.
“then decline the next time,” is his snarky retort.
you playfully roll your eyes, burrowing further into the plush cushion of your sofa beneath you, hands cupping your own beverage. “you say that as if you’ll let me commute this late.”
a tsk. “it’s called having a heart of gold, you idiot.”
you hum noncommittally, gaze fixed on the tv in front of you. “camie sure does think you have one, huh?”
when he doesn’t say anything for a beat, you chance a peek at the man, and sure enough, he’s looking at you like you just shat yourself. “hah?”
“camie?” you repeat, hoping the creeping embarrassment isn’t showing on your face. “the girl who—”
“i know who she is,” he spews defensively, before raising an eyebrow. “what about her?”
“you seem to go way back, based on how she regarded you tonight,” you quickly explain.
he stares at you for a second, as if trying to figure out why the hell you’re talking about utsushimi camie of all people, ultimately settling with a lazy shrug. “i guess? we ran into each other a few times back in ua.”
and when you don’t immediately respond: “why?”
“nothing,” you supply, before: “i mean, i could tell she’s generally a bubbly and outgoing person just from dinner, but the way she behaved around you was…how should i say—different, i guess?”
the pro-hero lets out a grunt, which is bakugou katsuki for keep going.
so you do. “for one, she seemed eager to sit beside you, even though yoarashi-san was the one to arrange the hangout, and i think you mentioned in passing once that she thinks shouto’s attractive.”
unsurprisingly, that grants you a side-eye. you backtrack.
“not that a girl wanting to sit beside you is unfathomable, but—”
“the fuck are you getting at, dumbass?”
you huff. “i’ll get there if you just let me talk!”
he shoots you another glare, before tossing you a curt nod. “fine.”
you fight back the urge to punch his arm. “as i was saying,” you enunciate, “there was something…remarkable about how she was acting.”
“how so?”
you ponder for a moment, not minding how the question just now was too sarcastic for your taste. “well, i didn’t really see her arrive because i was at the restroom, but she seemed to deflate when i came back and took my seat beside you. almost as if she was eyeing the spot.”
“you’re fucking imagining things.”
“okay, gaslighter. anyway, it wasn’t just that. her mood went back up a notch when you introduced me—so reluctantly it was embarrassing, by the way—as your best friend.”
he scoffs. “you’re the one who tagged along.”
“shouto invited me, you dickhead.” you frown, “when he called you this afternoon and i said hi, remember? he said you could bring me with you.”
“he was just being polite, that pretty boy.”
“and you’re being a fucking downer,” you quip, before crossing your arms in front of your chest like a petulant child. “i don’t know what camie sees in you.”
“hah?”
“see?” you exclaim, flinging your arms in frustration, “you’re not getting it because you’re not letting me finish. i have no idea how you didn’t notice, but her body was facing you the entire evening! she kept redirecting the conversation to you, too, asking you all sorts of questions.”
you’re not looking at him anymore, eyes darting all over the place as you continue. “and her giggles, man, you weren’t even being funny, but she was laughing like you had keke palmer’s humor, or something.”
“i don’t know if you’re feigning ignorance or just flat-out oblivious, which i doubt you are, but seriously, man,” you rasp, “i can’t believe i’m the one who has to do this, but open your eyes. the girl likes you. and—are you smiling?”
you cut yourself off, the jarring sight of bakugou grinning at you erasing every viable thought in your brain.
if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the guy is fucking amused.
you scowl at him. “the fuck are you smiling about?”
“nothin’,” he claims, although his lips are still pulled taut to the sides.
you shoot him a deadpan look, which causes him to let out a soft chuckle.
he shakes his head, shifting in his seat. “it’s just—i don’t know…”
“don’t know what?” you ask, brows furrowed.
“don’t know how you picked up on all this shit.”
your response is instantaneous. “it’s called having eyes, you idiot.”
if he’s even marginally annoyed at your semi-quoting him, he doesn’t let it show. instead, you can only watch in bewilderment as a faint tinge of pink starts to color his cheeks.
“yeah, well, i didn’t even notice any of that.”
“how?”
a glower.
“because i was just looking at you, dipshit.”
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˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!
tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin
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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader
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As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!
Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’
[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]
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There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.
Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.
You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.
“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.
“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”
“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”
“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.
The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.
“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”
“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”
His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.
“Perfect match.”
“Excuse me?”
He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.
Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.
“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”
The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.
A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.
“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.
The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.
“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.
“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”
A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.
“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.
“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”
Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.
“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.
He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.
“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”
For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.
“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”
“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.
You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:
“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”
Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.
“Who’s a buffoon?”
The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.
“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.
“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”
As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:
“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.
“What are you even doing here?”
“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”
“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”
“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”
“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”
Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.
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st4ringlow · 6 months ago
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fratboy!atsumu, who loves parties and having the time of his life as a college student, is known for his antics. drinking beer, making out with girls—it seems there's nothing he doesn't do. miya atsumu's name is one you'll hear all over campus. he's the guy others admire and the one many girls want to be with. right now, fratboy!atsumu is living his best life.
but everything changes when he sees you, strolling across campus looking charmingly dolled up, and he's certain he's fallen in love instantly. your beautiful smile strikes his heart like an arrow—damn you, cupid! and your laughter could be the end of him. how could anyone be as adorable as you? you've got the frat boy miya atsumu head over heels!
fratboy!atsumu is annoyed to learn you're in a different major, but his spirits lift when he hears you tutor math on weekends. oh he's sooooooo terrible at math, so perhaps he needs a session with you. so when the doorbell rings, he rushes to greet you, not wanting anyone else to answer.
as the door swings open, there you are, cozy in a cardigan and long skirt, looking so inviting that fratboy!atsumu feels an overwhelming urge to hug you because you're just too cute. your small smile as you look up at him nearly drives him mad. "uh, miya-san, right? im here for your tutoring session," you say, and his heart melts at the sound of your voice.
fratboy!atsumu can't contain his smile, and he feels like he might explode with joy now that you're here. he seizes the chance to admire your beauty up close, silently thanking every deity for this moment. fratboy!atsumu may be seen as the ultimate campus figure, but only his close friends know how goofy and tender-hearted he is, especially since he's fallen so hard for you.
˚ 𝜗𝜚 more fratboy!atsumu here!
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sutorus · 1 year ago
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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!
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DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 
PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader
WC: 5.1k whoops!
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 
A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!
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you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 
nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 
it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 
in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 
sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 
besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 
toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 
it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 
you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 
but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.
you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 
with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 
“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”
he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”
you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“
“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”
“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 
without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”
an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.
you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 
“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”
“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 
you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.
“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”
that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 
“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”
“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 
toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 
“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 
you can feel your face flush.
“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 
instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.
his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 
he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 
you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 
you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 
he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.
you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 
so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 
“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”
“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 
“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”
toji scoffs.
“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”
you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”
toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”
oh, if he only knew. 
“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”
toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 
“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”
you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“
“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”
you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 
“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“
you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.
you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.
he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 
you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 
his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 
soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.
it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 
“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”
“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”
toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.
your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.
toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.
“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”
a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.
he noticed.
he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 
“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 
he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.
god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 
you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.
his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.
he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.
your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 
toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 
it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.
you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 
you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 
toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.
you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 
“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”
you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 
“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”
you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 
toji’s having none of it.
he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 
“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 
you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.
toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 
he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 
he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.
“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 
you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.
toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 
you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 
toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 
you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.
toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 
it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 
it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.
he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 
“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”
he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 
you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 
he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”
you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 
toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 
“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”
you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 
you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.
when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 
“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”
he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 
you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 
his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 
“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.
you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 
the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.
it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 
your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 
you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 
“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”
“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“
“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.
“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“
“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 
you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 
he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 
“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”
“ahh, toji—“
“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”
“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 
“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 
“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”
“d—daddy?” 
toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”
it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 
he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 
he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—
toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 
you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 
“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”
toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 
“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 
there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 
he grunts, speeding up his movements.
“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”
you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.
toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 
“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”
you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.
toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 
“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“
“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”
you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 
toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 
“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”
he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 
you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 
once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 
toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 
“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”
you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 
fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 
toji finally addresses you. 
“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”
you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”
he smirks. 
“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”
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A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated
7K notes · View notes
minranghae · 6 months ago
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Taste | 18+
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》 pairing: c.san x f!reader
》 genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint really hard
》 warnings: friend’s brother!san, female reader, general silliness, stubborn reader, san loves to tease, hes a sweetie too ofc, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (angel, baby, etc.), coworkers, san bites reader one (1) time, barely proofread, unprotected, lmk if i missed any
》 wc: 5.2k
》 hello! i am back from the dead with my second fic and second installment in the senses series. i do apologize that this took so long, but i do plan on releasing more stuff soon-ish. i'm working on a longer series, so who knows what'll hapen lol. finally, i just want to say thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this!
 “God, I really can’t stand you, San! Stop following me, pervert!”
“Yeah, whatever, just get in so we can talk,” he yells to you with his arm hanging out the window of his car, an annoyed, yet amused smirk covering his face.
“No way!” You yell over your shoulder, too embarrassed to face him both physically and figuratively. 
Really, how could you? Not after you found him with your diary in his hands, reading it like it was his favorite novel. At first, you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t see those pages, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 
And that’s why you’re here: running away from San in the middle of the night.
“I’ll make you a milkshake,” San coos from the car, causing you to turn your head in interest, “You know you love ‘em,” he offers, as if you’re a dog and he’s holding a treat in front of your face. 
And god damn it, it works.
“Fine, but I’m not talking to you until I get one,” you say, opening the car door and climbing in.
“You’re talking to me now,” he quips, earning a look from you that he thinks would’ve killed him if it had the ability.
“Alright, tough crowd,” he murmurs to himself with a dry laugh, hoping to earn a giggle- or at least a smile- from you, but to no avail.
The whole situation was so embarrassing. And degrading, and stupid, and embarrassing-
“Stop thinking so much,” he swats at your arm playfully, noticing the clear look of discomfort and sheer, unabashed embarrassment on your face, “you don’t even know what I have to say yet.” 
You answer him with a small hum, deciding against giving him a verbal response, because no matter how much you’d like to curl up in a hole and die, you’re still as stubborn as the day San met you. 
You officially met him the first day you worked at the diner. Your best friend’s family had owned it since the old owners left, leaving the significantly smaller family of four looking for new employees. College debt had already begun sneaking its way into the back of your mind, and Eunbi needed to work with someone other than her nagging parents or annoying older brother. It was the perfect opportunity for you.
“C’mon! Just try it!” The boy working with you begged.
“I already told you, I have trauma with milkshakes!”
San laughed to himself, trying to hide the amusement evident on his face.
“Look, I’m sorry you found a hair in your milkshake however long ago, but I can assure you that my milkshake is hairless,” he held his little finger up to you, “pinky promise.”
Rolling your eyes, you locked your pinky with his. Your hands lingered together for a moment too long, until San pulled his away to push the drink closer to you.
“San, you know, I’m not really a huge fan of chocolate-” 
“Didn’t you and Eunbi make chocolate cupcakes for your birthday though?”
You freeze, cheeks heating up at his question, unsure if it was the fact that he’d caught you in a lie or that he knew and remembered what you and Eunbi had done for your birthday bringing the blush to your face. Attempting to hide your embarrassment, you shot him a small smirk, gently pursing your lips.
“‘Gotcha there, honey.”
Ever since that day, San always had a milkshake waiting for you at the end of each shift. And maybe it was that kindness that made you blush, or maybe it was the fact that his eyes smiled along with his lips every time he greeted you. It could’ve been the way he always knew how to make you giggle, but whatever it was, it was clear that you’d fallen for San.
Which is weird. Weird because he’s older than you, he’s your coworker, he’s out of your league, and worst of all: he’s Eunbi’s brother.
Really? How cliche is that? It’s not even like you could tell Eunbi about it. That would’ve made everything so much worse. It’s embarrassing enough to be so head over heels for a guy who just sees you as his little sister’s best friend, but to have people know about it too? There’d be no coming back from that.
And that’s exactly why you decided to start keeping a diary, or mindful journaling as you called it. That sounded better than keeping a diary.
You originally started it to confess some of your feelings about San. You wrote how embarrassed you were to have a crush on him. You wrote about the milkshakes he made you and the times he defended you against angry customers. You wrote about how stressed you felt about life in general. Your worries, your fears, the moments of your days that you wanted to forget, but your mind wouldn’t let you. You wrote about anything you couldn’t confess to another person. 
On particularly late nights full of hopeless pining and horny desperation, you’d write about your fantasies, some involving random celebrities or TV characters, but most involving San. 
It was nothing too in depth, it was more about how much you wanted just a taste of him. You knew you could never have him for good, but if you could just feel his strong arms around you or his lips on your skin just once, maybe that’d be good enough. Just a little taste. It felt dirty thinking about him in that sort of way, but who would see it anyways? 
Little did you know, San himself would.
It had slipped out of your bag. And being the kind, and relatively organized coworker he is, San picked it up to put it back in your bag for you. The way it landed on the floor, though, left it open on its spine with its pages just begging to be read. 
He wasn’t going to read it. That would be an invasion of privacy, and San wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do that.
But when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice his name on the page. And unfortunately, as it does most of us, curiosity got the best of him. 
San tried to stop himself, he really did. But, knowing just how eager you were for him put his head in a spin. He just couldn't help but picture you underneath him, with that adorable blush and shy smile that only appears when he starts teasing you. He wanted so badly to hear how you whimper, to feel how warm you are, to see how sweet you taste. He had a feeling you liked him, but he never would've guessed you reciprocated the feeling so strongly.
He saw this as more of an opportunity for you two. He wasn’t going to tell you what he’d seen; he’d just confess to you one night. And maybe it’d have to be secret for a bit, but eventually you could be his, and he wanted nothing more than that.
No big deal.
But, as soon as he heard a small gasp from the doorway and looked up to see your eyes welling with tears, he knew that plan was well fucked. 
San always thought you were pretty. From the moment Eunbi first brought you over, he couldn’t help but notice your expressive eyes and beautiful hair. But what he liked most was that shining smile you had. And seeing that he’d wiped it from your face as soon as you walked in, he just had to chase you.
And so, as you sat across from him in a booth in the dimly lit diner, he studied your face: the embarrassed blush and sweaty gleam sheening your forehead, your pouty lips wrapped around the straw of a chocolate milkshake as your eyebrows furrowed.
Even your beauty was stubborn.
He began softly, so as not to scare you, his fingers drumming against the table in a gentle rhythm, “So… do you like the milkshake?”
You looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”
San pushed out a sigh at your icy reply, settling back in his seat as he let his palm fall flat against the table. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t find the words. You broke the silence a moment later.
“Look, we can both pretend like you saw absolutely nothing at all and I’ll ask to work different times of the day so we won’t even have to see each other. I’m not weird, I promise, I just-”
“Shh,” he cooed, grabbing one of your hands, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, “you didn’t even let me talk yet.”
San’s gaze scanned your pretty face for a moment, falling onto those eyes and lips he adored. His heart pounded against the back of his ribs, and yet, you seemed so nervous. Had he read it wrong?
“Did you mean it? What you wrote?” he asked, his voice holding a subtle tone of insecurity. His gaze fell to the table where your hands met, his grip tightening just slightly.
You looked up at him, your wide eyes sweeping over his strong face and your breath picking up. Of course you meant it, but did he want you to mean it? 
“Why are you asking that?” you mumble, pulling your hand from his shyly. Your entire face was tinged pink from embarrassment and guilt, so anxious. San couldn’t stand it.
He made an effort to grab your hand again, his other hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. He shook your head a little, trying to bring out a tiny smile again. 
“You said you needed my face between your thighs…”
Your body went rigid. Out of all the entries, he just had to read that one? You remember writing it after watching him open something with his teeth one day, his jaw flexing as he used his teeth to rip open the plastic packet. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by unsavory thoughts later that night, and so, into the journal those fantasies went. 
“I’m just saying, I’ve needed a taste for a while now, too. Just give me a chance. Don’t run, please,” he pleaded softly, his grip tightening on your hand ever so slightly. He gave you that look, the one where his eyebrows would furrow so gently and his eyes gleamed softly, a desperation hidden in them. San wasn’t one to beg, but he couldn’t let you think he didn’t like you.
To his surprise, the confession didn’t make you smile. Instead, you felt your eyes well up with tears and a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Slowly, you snaked around the table to San’s side of the booth, immediately wrapping your arms around one of his as you cried into his shoulder. He received you warmly, his free hand coming up to pat your head softly with sweet coos leaving his mouth, calming and affectionate.
“I thought you were gonna hate me forever, Sannie. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiccuping softly, no even noticing your snot blotting San’s shirt. Such a mess.
San let out a breathy laugh, guiding your face up and off of his shoulder. He grabbed a napkin from the holder at the end of the table and wiped your nose with it gently, an affectionate air about him. He’d never seen you so emotional, and though his heart constricted seeing your tears, he was just happy to be the one taking care of you: his precious one. In a way, seeing you so worked up over something he saw as no big deal was endearing. Then again, almost everything about you was endearing to San. 
He smiled down at you after wiping your nose, mumbling, “Pretty girl.” You could feel your cheeks go red instantly, feeling like it was your first time having a crush all over again. 
He continued, his deep voice soft and sweet suddenly, “I could never hate you. Never, never,” he shook his head a bit, leaning in so that your foreheads were pressed together, “what I read only surprised me, but it would never make me hate you. So, don’t apologize for liking me. I like you, too.”
You swore your heart skipped a beat as he said that. In fact, it seemed like cardiac arrest would be the next step if he didn’t stop looking at you with those soft eyes.
“Never knew you had such a dirty mind,” he teased, rubbing your arm with his free hand gently.
And just like that, your eyebrows furrowed again and you hit his arm gently, too embarrassed to be sappy for long.
“Stop that! It’s not good to hold in all your thoughts, you know. You should write your feelings down,” you scolded, face bright red and lips pouting. San took the scolding at first, but it wasn’t much use. He was too focused on how cute your face looked all scrunched up. 
And, he couldn’t deny it. Being scolded was pretty hot.
“There you go again,” San interrupted, sighing playfully. He couldn’t help but tease. You stopped mid-sentence, unsure of what you were even scolding him about now.
“Hm? What?” you asked softly, a little pout remaining on your lips.
San giggled a little, his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. It was just too much fun for him. He leaned in closer to your face, close enough that your noses nearly met in the middle, whispering, “You’re too busy being angry to let me give you a taste of me.”
That cocky bastard. Cocky, and teasing, and sexy…
Your eyebrows quirked up and your cheeks burned even hotter as he leaned in closer, his mouth just next to your ear. 
“That’s what you wanted, right? What you wrote in your diary… ahem, journal,” he whispered, need dripping from his words. 
And yet, you were too embarrassed to speak. Or, maybe flustered was the right word. Either way, your brain didn’t quite work when San teased you normally, and especially not when his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs pressing into you gently.
“W-well, yes, but it was just a fantasy! I was just imagining! If you read more, you’d see I wrote about celebrities also…” you stammered, your hands searching for a place to rest along with your eyes. 
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not special?” San asked, biting his lip to hold back a cocky smile.
You gasped a little, hands instinctively finding San’s firm chest, “No, no! I just meant, just,” you panicked a bit, somehow losing your words yet again as San put his hands over yours.
“So, I am special? Am I special enough to have a taste of you?” San asked softly, still teasing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice, something like an invitation.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sannie… What would Eunbi think?” You ask softly, eyes round and full of worry. Unintentionally, you leaned further into San’s chest, prompting him to pull you into a hug. He cradled the back of your head, petting your hair softly.
“She doesn’t have to know yet. And you can always say no, baby. I know I tease you a lot, but it’s just because you’re so cute when you’re worked up. We can take things slow if you want. It’s just that journal entry… it made me…” San trailed off towards the end, his own cheeks getting pink now.
Softly, you reached up and ran your fingers through San’s hair, finally offering him a big smile, “Look at you blushing now.”
San blew a bit of air out of his nose, suppressing a shy laugh. “How couldn’t I blush? The thought of you wanting me that way…” He trailed off again, voice high and squeaky now that he was being teased. He pulled you close and buried his face in your neck, letting his lips place a soft kiss before he continued.
“I want to hear you say it, angel. Tell me I’m special and it’s more than just a fantasy. Tell me how you want me,” he mumbled into your neck, using every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from kissing it again.
And, in that moment, months of yearning for, pining over, and wanting San in every way came back to you. Your heart ached a bit, and so did the space between your legs. Everything you had imagined and told yourself was just a dream was coming true. It was true that it would be difficult to hide this whole thing considering Eunbi could read you like a book, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go.
“God, San, I want you in every way possible,” you breathed out, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. As soon as you did, he latched on to it, sucking a small bruise into it. You trembled a little, involuntarily letting a tiny whimper cross your lips as you whispered, “But I really need you to fuck me right now.”
“That’s all I need to hear, baby. Here,” he murmured, detaching himself from you quickly. He swiftly switched spots with you, leaving the booth seat and pulling you to the edge of it. He kneeled in front of you, one hand on your thigh and the other gripping the table still. Pushing the table towards the other side of the booth, San ran his hands up and down your thighs, eyes pleading and lust filled. “It’s alright if I taste you?”
“Please, need it so bad, Sannie,” you pleaded as he slowly undid your jeans, pulling them off your legs along with your panties in one fatal swoop. You were already dripping onto the seat and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 
San pressed gentle kisses up your bare thighs, using a thumb to rub gentle circles into your clit. You gripped the top of the seat, already feeling a pulsing need in your heat as San’s mouth inched closer to it. His breath tickled the area, making your squirm, but what was worse was the look in his eyes. He stopped just in front of your cunt and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes. In that moment, you understood San wanted this just as much as you did.
It was true. San couldn’t even recount the amount of times he pumped his fist in bed or in the shower thinking about you and your sweet pussy. And as much as it made him blush just thinking about it, he wanted nothing more in life than to bury his face in between your thighs some days, making you squirm and hearing what noises he could pull out of you. He wanted to have you, to know you on a deeper level. And what was more intimate than knowing the way a person tastes?
“Pretty,” he murmured into his direct line to heaven, his nose nudging your clit 
gently. A long, hot stripe was licked up your pussy, making you twitch expectantly. Instantly, your mind began to grow foggy and your hips bucked, San whispering, “It’s alright, just relax, baby.”
And so, you did. You let your torso fall all the way back against the booth seat and your fingers tangle in his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as he dove in deeper. His tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping inside every once in a while as a quiet hum vibrated against you. He kept up his agonizingly slow pace on your clit with his thumb, savoring that way you tasted on his tongue.
Soon, though, San needed more of you. He needed to see you squirm more, hear you moan just for him. He pulled you even closer to the edge of the booth, another grunt leaving him as he had to pull his face away for a moment. He hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to your clit, kissing it softly before sucking it. 
A thick finger found its way inside of you, knuckle deep and wriggling. You squirmed, unable to hold back your noises. Even with just one finger, he filled you up better than you’d ever been before. He added a second finger a moment later, getting familiar with your body inside and out. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched your pussy out, mumbling something about how perfect it was.
“Fuck, San, even your fingers are big,” you slurred, back arching up in the air. San answered with another hum against your pussy, one you could tell was a shy giggle. He curled his fingers, letting his lips pulse around your clit now that he could tell you would finish soon. He slowed his pace down for a second, lifting his head to look up at you.
“You wanna cum? Want Sannie to make you cum?” He asked with a condescending pout, mirroring the one on your own lips. You nodded fervently, but it wasn’t enough for San.
“Gotta hear you say it, angel,” He furthered, eyes darkening as he held back another sly smile. You whined, kicking your legs gently. San tutted, swatting your thigh gently, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just tell Sannie.”
“Please, San, make me cum. Wanna cum all over your tongue,” you relented, hips bucking back up towards San’s face, nudging his chin against your clit. San cooed gently before diving back in. Lapping at your hole, he circled your clit relentlessly with his thumb. He wasn’t going to let you cum anywhere but his tongue.
It didn’t take long for you to do just what you’d asked for. Suddenly, your entire body began to tingle, radiating from the place between your thighs. Your toes curled and your knees tried to squeeze together, locking San’s head in place so that he could lap up every last bit of your essence that was flowing out of you. He made sure he got every last bit, taking his time to lick and kiss every last part of your slick, throbbing cunt.
Eventually, he pried your legs open and helped you sit up, smiling hard at your flushed out face. He swiped his chin with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips before licking off that last bit of you. He sighed, “Could live in that little hole forever, baby.”
You blushed gently, turning away from him shyly, prompting him to sit next to you. He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap so your back was flush against his chest. “Hey, you can’t get all shy on me now. Where’s the feisty girl I know, hm?”
“How could I be mean after you just did that to me,” you pouted, making San laugh. 
“You’re always mean to me,” he told you dramatically, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his. Carefully, he grinded his hips up so that you could feel how hard he was. And he was. Just the taste of you had San throbbing, and the only reason he let you cum so quickly was so that he didn’t cum in his own pants. 
You gasped softly, feeling San’s cock pulsing against your ass, then again when his thick fingers began circling your clit again. He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking so softly into your ear, “And what’s really mean is how you made me so hard, I almost came from how good you tasted. You wouldn’t leave me like this, right, baby?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning around in San’s lap. His hands went straight to your ass, cupping it and pulling you down to grind against the tent in his pants. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as your hips moved back and forth on him, concentrated huffs falling from your tongue.
“Greedy girl,” he teased, nudging your jaw with the side of his head gently, “you want my cock in you?”
You nodded, pouting at him, “Please, San. Need you in me bad.”
San just laughed, guiding your hands to unzip his pants. He lowered his voice, looking down at where your crotches met, “Alright, you can have it. But, you gotta do the work now. You really tired me out there before.”
You whined again, this time out of pure exhilaration. Wasting no time, you unzipped San’s fly, yanking down his pants and boxers as best as you could. His cock sprung out, hard and red, begging you to take it.
But first, you giggled mischievously as you gave it a few pumps, enjoying its weight in your hand. San groaned, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to grow impatient. He grabbed your waist and guided you to sit up better, right above his manhood.
You moved your hips around just to antagonize San as he’d done to you so many times. He let out a frustrated groan, burying his face against your neck yet again, kissing it softly as he pleaded, “Cmon, baby, don’t make me crazy here.”
“Wanted this for so long, Sannie,” you breathed out as you finally sunk down on him, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. San chuckled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I know, baby, read all about it,” he smirked, that smug look on his face melting into a lovesick smile as you swatted at his chest. He couldn’t help but suck another bruise into the side of your neck before chiding, “Just teasing you, been thinkin’ about this for a while, too.”
He rutted up into you, hungry and needy, filling your slick heat completely. Your body twitched with each thrust, languid and deep, San’s silent confession. He was savoring his meal, taking it slowly and enjoying it wholly.
The only sound in the room was that of skin on skin, San’s hips snapping up into yours. He knew just the spot to hit inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, prompting San to speed up. The two of you, hungry and desperate to cum, moved together in a near perfect harmony. 
“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” San stuttered, trying to keep himself inside you, but it was hard with your bouncing and his thrusts, not to mention the wetness you spilled each time he left your body for a moment. San grunted in your ear, biting down on your shoulder a moment later. He was close. It didn’t help that everytime he thrusted up into you, you let out the sweetest sounds. San wanted to listen to them all the time, but even the thought of doing this again with you made him harder. 
Honestly, his cock kept getting harder with each second it spent inside you. You were so warm, so tight. San was normally a patient man, but it was hard to take his time with you.
You couldn’t be helped either. As soon as he sunk his teeth into you, you came all over him. Wetness poured out of your cunt, coating San as you cried out his name. He followed suit soon afterwards, pulling out and cumming on your thigh. Quickly, San pulled you into a hug, still heaving as a big hand came up to cradle your head. 
For a few minutes, the two of you sat together, your form still tucked into San’s warm embrace as he rocked you back and forth. You both tried to regain your breath, but every little touch made either one of you gasp softly before you turned your head the other way, embarrassingly lovesick. 
San was warm, physically and figuratively. Sweat dripped off his forehead and fell onto yours, but you couldn’t care less if it meant being held by him. It was strong, secure, surreal… it was everything you had written about before. There were days when all you needed was a firm hug, to be held without the fear of falling, somewhere warm and safe. San was all of that, and you could feel it now. It wasn’t just something you wrote about anymore. It was real.
San noticed the face you made when you were thinking and his heart rate picked up. Was it not good? Did he disappoint you? He nudged your head with his shoulder, pouting, “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”
“What? No! It was amazing, I just… I like you a lot. And I like that I don’t have to imagine things anymore… Well, that is if you want to continue this,” you trailed off, blabbering embarrassedly. Maybe all he wanted was a hookup. Uneasiness settled into your features while amusement settled into San’s.
“Silly girl,” he scoffed, enamored by everything you were, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
Your eyebrows shot up and your heart fluttered. You were never one to get so worked up so easily, but San had a way of making it happen. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you mirrored, acting coy now. San cupped your face, dimples on full display as he smiled at you, meeting your gaze. He leaned in and gave you his first real kiss of the night. Your lips molded together perfectly, San’s tongue swiping across your lower lip occasionally. You felt his warm cheeks against yours, which made you giggle sweetly. San’s heart melted.
The boy pulled away a moment later, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Does that answer your question, baby?”
You snorted in response, shaking your head bashfully. You wanted to hear him say it. San rolled his eyes in response, his hands moving down your back to rest on either side of your ass. Still, he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”
You sighed sweetly, unable to hold back the big smile on your face. San delivered a little spank to your ass, playful and teasing, “Happy now?”
You nodded, allowing a little squeal of excitement to leave you. “Very happy, Sannie. Very happy,” you whispered back, laying your head on his shoulder to look around the dark diner. 
Just then, your eyes spotted a little red light up in the corner of the diner, seemingly connected to a security camera. You jumped, whisper yelling at San, “Fuck! Fuck, the cameras, San!”
San jumped as soon as you did, following your gaze up to the security camera. He mirrored your panic for just a moment before pulling you further into the booth, pulling his jacket off to cover up your still bare bottom half. 
And just as you thought you were going to have a heart attack, San laughed, and somehow, the uneasiness melted away. He ruffled your hair playfully, moving you off his lap and onto the seat before zipping his pants back up. He stood up, leaning down to your level, “I'll go take care of it, honey. Just clean up and get dressed. And finish your shake,” he told you, motioning to the table where your half empty, half melted chocolate shake sat.
But as soon as he turned around, he turned back and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before scurrying off to the office, ready to delete the footage. You couldn’t help but smile knowing San would take care of it. What a dream boy.
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saintobio · 9 months ago
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blank canvas: the epilogue.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache
notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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TWO YEARS LATER
Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 
Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.
So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.
The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.
But one person was conspicuously absent. 
It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.
As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”
Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”
“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 
Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 
“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 
You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.
For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.
As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.
“Nii-san!”
“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 
Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.
It was Sukuna.
He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.
It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 
“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 
Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 
“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 
You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.
It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.
When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 
As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 
Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 
You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 
You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?
Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 
Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.
“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 
“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.
There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”
He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 
“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”
You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” 
“Mhmm.” 
The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.
“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 
Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 
— —
You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 
Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.
“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 
You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 
“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 
The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 
You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”
You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”
Oh.
Of course. 
What did you expect?
His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.
But it was all too late. 
He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”
Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.
“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”
You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.
He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.
But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 
“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”
“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 
Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”
You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”
“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”
“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”
He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”
You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”
As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.
While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 
That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.
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luvhcarly · 6 days ago
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TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT IT.
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You start to fail one of your classes at college and San as your professor notices that. He decides to help you out as a good professor, but it takes another turn…
PAIRINGS: soft dom!San x fem!reader
GENRE: smut, professor x student, college AU
TAGS: smut, unprotected sex (don’t!), fingering, cum swallowing, praising, use of pet name (love), divorce!, cheating, age gap (San is in his 30s and reader is 22.), swearing, lmk it I missed anything
WC: 7K
A/N: here I am with writing a professor x student smut. I feel kind of ashamed but nvm! I don’t know if I love this one or hate it… if you find any mistakes lmk. English is not my first language!!
© All rights reserved luvhcarly do not copy, repost, or translate.
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Your attention was focused on your notes and you nervously tapped your pen on the desk. You were nervous. Nervous that you don't understand it. You always understood everything and you were always the best of the best. Your grades were something that made you happy, successful and you felt at least somehow important. Well, a short circuit came, a short circuit that you didn't know would ever happen. You started to fail Media & Communications. The subject was quite fun, you understood it from the beginning and did well, but as time went on it somehow went downhill.
"Ms. Y/n.” A male voice was heard, which interrupted you out of your thoughts. You looked up from your notes and looked at your professor of Media & Communications. "Stay after class." He ordered and you nodded, you knew what it was about. Mr. Choi was a good professor, he cared about the students and that they understood the subject, which most professors did not do.
When the class ended, you stood up, holding your notes tightly in your hand, but the rest of your things were in your backpack, which was slung over your shoulder. The classroom was emptied and only you and the professor remained there.
"Yes, Professor?" You asked him nervously, he was leaning his body against his desk, he had glasses on his eyes and his hair was slicked back. He was wearing a shirt with a tie and black pants that fit him perfectly.
“You are failing my class.” He remarked how you wouldn't know about it yourself. His gaze shifted to you and your nervous expression. A small sigh escaped your lips and you held the notes even tighter than before.
“I know…” You admitted, he adjusted his glasses a bit and raised an eyebrow at your answer.
"And? What's the problem?" He asked, placing his hands over his chest as he scanned you from top to bottom. Your hair was down, you were wearing a black shirt that hugged your body. Your skirt was short, above the knees, but not too short.
"Well..." You swallowed loudly and looked at him, his shape was casual, but he was patiently waiting for your answer. "I just don't understand the subject." You admitted, biting your bottom lip nervously.
“I figured that out, Y/n.” He bounced away from his desk and walked over to his chair. He sat down and took a pen in his hand. He raised his eyebrows again and waited for what you would say next, but when you remained silent he asked again. "What exactly do you not understand?" He started rummaging through the papers while you shifted nervously from foot to foot. You felt embarrassed that you were dealing with something like this at all. You were always a good student, even excellent.
“Journalism & News Reporting…” You mumbled like you didn't even want him to know. He shifted his eyes from his papers to you and raised one eyebrow. At first you had the feeling that he didn't hear you, but then he started talking again.
"Were you thinking about getting a tutor? Or asking your classmates about it?” A small sigh escaped his lips and you shifted your gaze to the ground.
"I asked a classmate about it but I still don't get it. I just have trouble with finding the researches.” You ruffled your hair nervously and he nodded at your answer. He saw that you were nervous. He knew you. You always sat quietly at the end of the row, right at the front and listened carefully. You were one of those students who excelled in his class. You were an excellent student, you always handed in your materials on time and you always had an A+, sometimes an A, but you never failed. He was quite surprised when he read your test and saw that you wrote nonsense there.
"Do you have time tomorrow?" He broke the silence between you. You redirected your gaze to him and blinked quickly being surprised.
“What?” You asked because you weren't sure if you heard him correctly, but when he repeated the question, you parted your lips.
"Do you have time tomorrow, Ms. Y/n?” With a raised eyebrow, he watched as your lips slightly parted over his words.
“Y-yes I have.”
"Good. Stay after class tomorrow. Bring your materials.” He said and stood up from his chair, leaning his hands on the desk and watched as you nodded and bowed your head in gratitude and respect. Without a word, you turned around and walked out of the classroom. When the door closed behind you, you leaned against it and sighed loudly.
-
After the class next day, you stayed, just like he told you to. You nervously sat in place and waited until the class was empty. "Good luck." Your friend told you as she packed her things and with those words she left, leaving you sitting there alone.
When all of a sudden they all left, the class fell silent and a slight chill ran down your spine. While he was just sitting on his chair and leafing through his papers. With your hands on your thighs, you nervously wondered if you should say anything at all or wait until he transferred his attention to you. It took a while until he stopped flipping through the papers. But when he finished, he slowly got up from the chair and walked over to your desk.
"So, show me where are you stuck at?" He didn't usually tutor. Well, never. This was the first time he tutored one of his students. It was forbidden in their code, but he broke it and was willing to help even if you didn't ask for it. He didn't even know why he did it, but it was probably because he felt sorry for you. He saw how you struggle with it and try to understand it, but somehow you couldn't bear it. San noticed you, but rather in the form that every professor do to every student who is doing well.
“Well, the assignment that you gave us. I found some interesting topic but I am struggling with finding the right resources how you taught us.” You took your computer from your bag and turned it on. While you were waiting for the computer, which for some reason was turning on even more slowly than usual, he asked:
"What topic?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and put his hands in the pockets of his pants. This time he didn't have glasses on his eyes, which usually fit him nicely. He was wearing a white shirt again, which was a little unbuttoned, but not too much. His hair was slicked back as usual.
"The future of work." You admitted and watched as he sighed at your answer.
"Good idea, but too difficult to make a research." You opened your mouth as if you wanted to protest him, but you didn't know how. He was right, that's why you're sitting here.
"Um, what about Human trafficking awareness?" He thought for a short moment and when he thought of an interesting topic, he proposed it to you. You tilted your head to the side and nodded at his suggestion.
"That could be good too."
“Good.” He replied and sighed. You redirected your gaze to the computer that was already on and cleared your throat a little. Then you opened the material and bit your lip, while he took out his phone from his pocket and started texting. He had a disgusted expression on his forms and for a few seconds he was as if frozen. You didn't pay much attention to it, but you still tried wrote things in the material that you still knew how to do. But then the bad always came. Writing about what it is and how it works went well for you, but when it came to research, you had a block.
San put his phone in his pocket when he noticed that you stopped writing. Your look was confused, he could see it on you. The problem is that you really don't understand it, not that you chose the wrong topic. He slowly walked up to you from behind and leaned down to get a good look at your computer. His face was inches away from yours, you could smell his perfume as soon as he bent down. He ran his eyes over the screen and carefully read what you wrote.
"If you want to have a good research you need to gather your information from blogs." He informed you as he kept reading your notes.
“Yeah, I know that but those blogs are hard to find.” You admitted and swallowed loudly. When he finally pulled away, you were relieved. You let out a huge sigh that you didn't even know you were holding back.
"Hm..." His eyes narrowed and he began to think. "Are you using keywords?" He asked you with a raised eyebrow, while you turned your head to look at him at least out of the corner of your eye.
"No…?"
"You need to use keywords or you won't be able to find anything good and interesting." He answered you right away, you parted your lips as if you wanted to say something, but then you immediately closed them and just nodded your head at his sentence.
As time went by, an hour passed since you were sitting here with him. You collected information and it was more than you thought you would collect. San cleared his throat and looked at his watch on his wrist.
"We will work on it tomorrow." He let out a sigh and you lifted your gaze from the screen to look at him. He had a tired look on his face, which you noticed only now. You felt bad that he had to stay here because of you.
"I think I understand it now." You gave him a sweet smile and turned off the computer. San looked at you in surprise but then nodded at your statement. You packed your things in your backpack and got up from your chair.
"Thank you." You started talking, and he looked up from the ground and paid attention to you. "Thank you for your help, sir." You bowed your head as a sign of the respect you show him.
"No worries." He put his hands in his pants pockets again and watched as you smiled sweetly at him. Your smile was sincere and it warmed his heart at that moment, but then he put the thought behind him. You nodded at his words and directed your steps away from the classroom. You looked at him for the last time as you left and then closed the door.
-
Weeks have passed since the professor tutored you and helped you. But there was one problem, you didn't know what to do again. You felt embarrassed that you would go to him with that, but you still went to see him after class.
"Professor?" He looked up from his papers and took off his glasses. "Yes?" He was actually quite surprised to see you standing in front of his desk.
"I feel dumb that I am asking about this again, but I am at the end of the research and I have a problem how to end it. I know that it's not your duty to help me and I also know that I shouldn't ask this-"
"Come to my office after your classes. Right down the hall.” Your eyes widened when he immediately cut you off. Your friend who was standing near you looked at you with a surprised expression.
“Okay.” You nodded and then started walking towards your friend and you walked out of the classroom together. San watched you run out of the classroom, your hair blowing in the air and how you laughed at something your friend said. He started paying a lot of attention to you, and he didn't like it. He was interrupted from his observation by the ringing of the phone. When he saw who was calling, he rolled his eyes and picked up the phone.
"Yes?" He asked.
"Your wife refuses to sign the papers no matter what." It echoed from the other side of the phone, at which he sighed and rubbed his face. He leaned his body more against the chair and thought.
"Tell her that I agree." He blurted out.
"What? Are you insane? There is a big chance that you will win it.”
"Tell her that I agree and that she can keep that damn apartment." He said again and more clearly. He was so done with that shit, he was tired.
“San-“
“I have a class. Do what I said…” With those words, he ended the conversation and let out an annoyed sigh. Finally he can get rid of that woman.
"Going to Mr. Choi office? Y/n you don't seem like you-"
"What the hell?! No! It's not like that." You punched her on the shoulder with a furrowed brow, but she only let out a laugh.
"Come on, don't tell me that you never had thought about him like that." She swallowed loudly and shook her head at her cocky thinking.
"Well, I didn't." You stopped in your tracks and raised your eyebrows. "Did you?" You asked and she just laughed and shrugged her shoulders.
"You are unbelievable!" You laughed at your friend and caught up with her. When you stopped by her locker, you leaned back and waited for her to take her things.
"I think you should fuck him." She blurted out and looked at you.
"What?" Your eyes widened and you stared at her in confusion. "I have a boyfriend, did you forget?" She rolled her eyes at your answer and sighed.
“Oh, you mean that asshole who cheated?” You were taken aback by her reminder. You swallowed loudly and shook your head. Whenever you thought that you are over it, someone slapped it in your face. Every damn time.
"It was a year ago... and he changed." You muttered as if you weren't sure if he had really changed. He's been acting strange lately, he's been more withdrawn from you and you haven't spent as much time together as before.
“People like him never change, y/n.” She commented while you nervously looked at the ground and thought. "I think you should do the same." She closed the locker and looked at you.
“Well. I am not like that. Besides he is our professor. He is like 8 years older than me.” Your friend shrugged her shoulders at your sentence. "But he is hot." When she saw how you opened your mouth and was about to say something, she immediately stopped you. "-and don't deny it!" She pointed a warning finger at you and you laughed at her behavior. Of course, he was hot. But that was it, or?
When your classes were over, you went to his office as he told you. You nervously held the laptop in your hand, and when you suddenly appeared in front of his door, you became even more nervous. Your friend's words stuck in your head and you couldn't suppress them. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Slowly, you raised your hand and knocked on the door. When his voice was heard "come in." you opened the door and stepped inside.
His body was completely leaning on the chair, his hair was messy, which you had never seen before, and he had a weird expression on the shapes. He look nervous, angry? He pointed to the place opposite him for you to sit down. And so you did. You sat across from him and nervously played with hem of your skirt. Why did he look so good? Nope. Don't think about it. You repeated in your head.
"Show me." He blurted out, breaking you out of your thoughts.
"What?" You looked up at him and blinked quickly your eyes as if you didn't understand what he meant
“The research.” He cleared his throat and leaned closer. Your parted her lips and shook your head, turned on the laptop and opened the research folder. Then your turned the laptop towards him and he began to scan it with his eyes. You watched how his chest rose gently when he breathed and how his adam’s apple always rose a little when he swallowed. It was hard to take your eyes off him. He noticed your look very well, felt it. But for some reason he liked it... You cleared your throat a little and then you realized that you were staring at him for too long.
Just then the phone rang, he shifted his gaze to the phone and sighed. He turned the mobile downwards and once again looked at the computer screen.
"If it's something important you can take it." You told him and he looked at you and then looked back at the screen. The cell phone started ringing again and he rolled his eyes and turned it off. His brow furrowed and he looked even more angry than before.
“I think we should discuss it tomorrow.” You started to get up from your chair and he raised an eyebrow. "Sit. Down." You swallowed at his voice, which was rougher than usual, and sat down to the chair. After a while, he started typing into your laptop what made you confused.
"I didn't-" When you wanted to say something, he turned the laptop towards you again.
"Done." He said and got up from his chair, as you swallowed loudly.
"Sir- I just wanted to discuss it not you to write it for me..." you got up from the chair and he just looked at you and leaned his body against his desk.
"You're welcome." That's the only thing he let out and he continued to watch you as your nervously cleared your throat and looked at him with an uncomprehending look.
"I feel bad-"
"There is nothing to feel bad about. I wrote if for you. You didn't ask for it so." He sighed and waited for your answer.
“I-… well thank you, sir.” The way you said 'sir' triggered something in him. He bit the inner corner of his mouth and nodded his head.
“Sorry to ask- but you seem tired. Are you feeling okay?” You said and he started paying attention to you even more. You didn't want him to take it as an insult, but you were interested. You've never seen him so freaked out. It was quite strange for you.
"It's nothing." He let out a fake smile. He was surprised that you noticed something about him and he was quite happy. It warmed his heart a little. You didn't want to pressure him, so you nodded and packed the laptop into your backpack. "Thank you again." You thanked again, but when you were about to leave, he stopped you.
"Wait-" You turned around and raised your eyebrows. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment as if was thinking. He didn't want to bother you with his problems. Hell, you were his student, so why did he want to tell you everything that was on his mind. What bothered him.
"I-..." for the first time in your life, you saw him as if he was lost. As if he couldn't find the right words to say. "I just divorced recently and I don't know it's just been a hard time for me lately." His words surprised you that he confided something like that to you. You devoted your attention only to him and his nervous expression.
"I am sorry to hear that."
"I am not, it's just she has been pissing me off lately. She is refusing to sign the papers.” He throwed his hands in the air and you raised an eyebrow at his angry reaction.
"Why?”
“I don’t know. But she makes me sick.” He confessed and broke eye contact with you. He felt embarrassed that he was telling you this, but inside his heart he was relieved. He felt much better when he told you and got it out.
"What happened between you two, if I may ask?" You were curious and you could never suppress it. Even if sometimes your curiosity was too much, he didn't seem to mind that you were asking.
"I found out that she has been cheating on me." Your eyes widened when he said what happened. You cleared your throat and nodded.
"Well, she is a bitch. I know how you feel. Betrayed? Not enough?” When the word bitch escaped from your mouth he chuckled. But then, when you started to name how he feels, his smile slipped out of shape.
"How do you know?"
"Well, my boyfriend cheated on me a year ago so I kind of know how you feel. But when she is your or I- I mean 'was' your wife then you must feel a lot of worse." Your words were true, but something made him angry when he said that your boyfriend cheated on you. Why? You were kind, smart and attractive...
"Are you still with him?" You were taken aback by his question. But you let out a sigh and nodded your head.
“Why?” He asked being curious, why would you stay with someone who cheated on you? San saw it as a betrayal, when he learned that his wife had cheated on him. That's why he threw the divorce papers in front of her the very next day.
"I don't know..." You really didn't know why you were still with him and why you forgave him. You felt love for him, but it faded over time, but when he came begging to the door with flowers in hand, it warmed your heart.
Although it was probably because you didn't want to feel alone. "I didn't want to feel lonely I guess." The atmosphere between you was quite awkward and serious. San sighed at your words and pursed his lips.
He undrestand, you're young and you didn't want to be alone. Loneliness is the worst, he always said.
He thought for so long before submitting the divorce papers. He wanted to communicate it, but also he didn't feel like it. He didn't want to forgive her even in his worst dream. It was disgusting what she did, and the love for her immediately disappeared, no matter what it was.
Well, he thought about the fact that he would be alone. He was alone as always. Although he didn't want to feel that way, he didn't want to live with someone who lies.
“You know people like that never change?” He asked and his words were sharp, as if he wanted to change your thinking about how it really is.
"I know." You nodded at his words and sighed. You knew that everyone who tells you that is right. They don't change. Never. Even so, you believed that he was different, that he wouldn't do it again. San didn't answer your words, as if he didn't know what to say. There was an awkward silence between you, but then he broke it.
"Did you ever think about doing the same to him?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. His thoughts started going where they shouldn't, again. Ever since he tutored you for the first time, he started thinking about you differently than before. His eyes always fell on you even during class, in the corridor. He watched how you always wore only skirts to school, once you wore a skirt that was too short and it almost stuck out your whole ass. And you were wearing the same skirt now. He didn't want to think of you like that. But he couldn't control himself. That day he spent the whole time with the pain in his pants.
San knew that it was wrong and that you were too young for him, to hell with the fact that you were his student, but the way you looked at him, which you probably didn't even realize, made him want to fuck you even more.
“No….” Your lips parted as if you wanted to say something more. He pushed his body off his desk and moved closer to you. “Do you think about it now?” He watched your surprised expression, he didn't even know what he was doing. Well, he longed for you. He watched as you set your lips into a thin line and then bit down on them, as if you weren’t so sure what he meant.
"What do you mean?" You asked him to know what he was running into right now. He moved closer to you and leaned down so that he was dangerously close to your lips. “What do you think that I mean, y/n?” He raised his eyebrows as if he was curious about what exactly you were thinking about right now. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers touched your cheek and you stopped breathing for a moment. What he did was wrong, and you knew it yourself. But you couldn't tear yourself away. Something was holding you in place.
"Would you like to do the same to him? Do you want him to feel like a shit, which he deserves?” You swallowed loudly at his words and watched as he looked at your lips. He wanted to kiss you so badly, but he was waiting for your answer.
"Yes." You mumbled like you weren't sure if you really wanted it. "You don't sound so sure." He tilted his head to the side, watching your nervous expression. “Yes, I do.” You blurted out more clearly and he chuckled. Without further warning, he pressed his lips to yours. He put one hand on your waist and other one on your cheek, gently caressing it with his fingers. The kiss was soft at first, but then he deepened it and began to kiss you more dominantly. His grip on your waist was tight and he pulled you even closer. When you felt his hard cock through his pants you let out a little sigh and he took it as a good chance to enter his tongue into your mouth. The kiss was hungry, something you never experienced before.
"We shouldn't." Your hand touched his chest but you didn't pull away. "I know, but fuck I can't help it." He tried to breathe it out, kissing your lips was his new obsession. He wanted to kiss you everywhere, but when you said you two shouldn't, he looked at you with a desperate look. "Tell me to stop and I will." He blurted out, keeping eye contact with you.
"I don't want you to stop." You admitted and swallowed loudly, his pupils widening at your answer. He moved the other hand that was on your cheek to your waist and started to navigate it to his desk. When your ass leaned against it, he immediately lifted you up a little so that you were sitting on it. He pressed his lips to yours again and slowly began to leave wet kisses everywhere. He slid one hand slowly under your short skirt and his touch sent chills down your spine. His touch was hot, and powerful, something you wanted to feel all the time. He pulled away his hand from your thigh and he touched your shirt and he took it of from you, leaving you in your bra.
For a short moment he looked at you with an amazement, then he pressed his lips to your neck and his hands started to roam all over your body. His fingers traced the lace edge of your bra, his touch gentle yet insistent. He unhooked the clasp slowly, his eyes locked onto yours now, watching for any sign that you might pull back. The bra fell away, revealing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He took a shuddering breath. “Fuck, so beautiful.” He complimented you as he took a step back, admiring you. You blushed at him, of course your boyfriend complimented you, but when San said it, it was different. You felt more… confident and appreciated. With one swift move you pulled him back by his black tie which he smirked at. Slowly with your fingers you started to unbutton his shirt as he watched you getting more and more eager for him.
When he saw how you are struggling with the buttons, he moved your hand away and did it by himself. “Are you that nervous that you can’t even unbutton it, love?” San looked at you with raised eyebrow and with a grin. God he was so hot. You knew that you shouldn’t do it. Fuck, he was your professor. But handsome professor…
“Maybe.” You swallowed when he pulled his t-shirt off, revealing his toned abs. He tossed it somewhere and slowly with your fingers you started to caress his abs. Your movements were slow, controlled and you observed him. “If you won’t stop touching me like that I won’t be able to control myself.” He grabbed you by your chin to make you look at him. His eyes were narrowed and there was a hunger in them, possession. “Yeah? Maybe I don’t want you to control yourself.” You leaned closer to his ear and whispered into it, your hot breath tickling his ear. He smirked at you again and he kissed your neck again, his hand slowly making his move to your breasts.
He touched your breast which made you gasp and you squeeze your eyes at the feeling. He chuckled against your neck as he felt how you stopped breathing for a second. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on one of your breasts, his eyes never leaving yours. His tongue gently flicked out, circling your nipple before taking it fully into his mouth. He sucked gently, his other hand cupping and massaging your other breast. You let out a moan when his tongue touched your nipple, immediately a chill ran down your spine.
“Please-“ The throbbing feeling between your legs was getting more and more uncomfortable and painful. He pulled away from your nipple and looked at you with a cocky grin. “Please what, love?” You were out of breath, your chest rising up in an incredible way. “I need you, please.” You were eager, like never before. You needed him. And you could feel that he needed you too. Again, he captured your lips as he pulled your skirt down, revealing your clothed core. One hand was gripping tightly your waist, while other one touched with his index finger your clothed pussy. He could feel how wet you were and that drove him crazy even more. With a smirk he pulled your panties down, exposing your wet core.
“This wet for me? Fuck-“ He chuckled and you kissed him again, to make him shut up. His words were confident like he knew what to do. It was different than previous sex you had. This one was more heated, more touchy. And you liked that. Slowly with his thumb he started circling your clit with a skillful touch. He watched as you broke apart at his touch. His teasing was painful but in a different way, pain that you enjoyed.
San pushed two fingers inside you, his thumb continuing to circle your clit. He began to pump his fingers in and out, finding your sweet spot with each stroke. “Do you enjoy your professor’s fingers inside you, love?” Only a moan escaped from your mouth, he felt how your walls hugged his fingers perfectly when he hit that sweet spot which made you gasp every time.
“Tell me how much you enjoy it.” He lifted your chin again to make an eye contact with you. Your cheeks were flushed red and you had a begging look in your eyes, that look that made him harder than before.
“I- fuck, I need more.” That’s the only thing that escaped your mouth, he let out a chuckle and put a third finger in you, stretching you even more. You gasped when he speeded up the pace, making you a moan mess. He felt that you were close when your walls tightened around his fingers more, he continued to rub your clit with his thumb. His other hand reached up to squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He leaned down to capture your mouth with his, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge.
He groaned deeply as he felt your climax, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. He kissed you fiercely, drinking in your cries of pleasure. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his lips. He licked them clean, never breaking eye contact. You watched how he licked his fingers covered with your cum. His hands moved on your thighs, spreading them wider as he stood up between them. His belt hit the floor with a clatter and he pushed his boxers down, his hard length springing free. He stroked himself once, then positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes intense.
He teased you for a moment, the head of his cock sliding up and down your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Then, with a sudden thrust, he entered you fully, his thickness stretching you deliciously.
“Fuck, so-“ he moaned as he entered you. “So tight.” San smirked as he watched your mouth fall open in a perfect 'O' of pleasure, your gasp music to his ears. Slowly, he began to move, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in, setting a deep, intense rhythm. His hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. He kept thrusting deeply, hitting that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back. He watched hungrily as you made those beautiful sounds, his face contorted with pleasure and concentration. He could feel you getting tighter around him.
"Turn over, love.” He slowly pulled his cock out as he ordered you to turn around. He stepped back a little to give you a room to turn around. With a confused look on your face, you turned around slowly. He leaned his chest against you from behind, his hard cock touching your bare ass. “Fuck, so beautiful when you obey like this.” San leaned closer to you, whispering into your ear words that made you like crazy. “Good girl, just for me.” He was something else, no doubt that your classmates date older man. They are different, more manly.
He put his large hands on your waist possessively, gripping it tightly. He kicked your legs wider, then without second thought he slammed back into you from behind, filling you to the brim again. He started pounding into you, which made you bent over a little and put your hands on the desk, gaining some stability. His hot breath was against your neck as you squeezed your eyes at his deep thrusts, his cock hitting every right spot.
“San~” He groaned deeply as he heard you calling him 'San' for the first time, the familiarity sending shivers down his spine. He pressed his chest against your back even more as he continued to thrust into you. “Say it again. Say my name.” With a moan he said as he started to kiss your neck, biting it.
“San-“ You moaned his name again, as he kept pounding into you, his hands roaming over your stomach and up to your breasts. When all of a sudden your phone started to ring, he quickly reached for your phone and chuckled when he saw the phone caller ‘Boyfriend’. But he didn’t stop, instead he wrapped his arms around your waist more and pulled you even closer.
“Answer it. On speaker.” His voice was low, something inside him snapped when he saw the name on display. “What?” You asked out of breath as he kept pounding into you, his balls slapping against your ass each time.
“Answer him, love. Let’s see if you can keep quiet.” When he accepted the incoming call, he put it on speaker and put it before your mouth.
“Y-yes?” You answered as you swallowed loudly, trying to stay silent. He continued his relentless thrusts, his breath hot against your ear as he watched you answer the phone. Your boyfriend's voice floated out, concerned. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, everything- everything’s fine.” After your answer you put your hand over your mouth, his thrusts became slower, more deliberate, each movement designed to make you moan, to make you struggle keeping you quiet. He noticed when you put your hand over your mouth to stay silent, trying to be the good girlfriend – and it made him want to fuck you harder.
"Are you sure?"
“I am fine!” You replied with a raised voice as San smirked at your reaction, feeling a thrill at the slight raise in your voice. He knew he's making you struggle to maintain the lie, making you struggle to keep quiet while he used you. "When are you coming home?” He asked you, keeping the conversation going.
“In- in an hour.” You swallowed loudly as San bit your neck, leaving a wet kisses behind. His thrust were deep, deep enough to make you roll your eyes every time.
“Okay, love you.”
“Yeah, love-love you too.” As soon as you hanged up the phone, San bit down lightly on your shoulder instead of your neck this time, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Love you," he mocked softly, his hips resuming their powerful rhythm. “You must love him so much when you let your professor fuck you in his- in his own office.” He struggled with his words as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. “I- fuck…” You struggled with your words, being unable to say something duo to his deep thrusts and how he is gripping your hip tightly. He chuckled darkly, amused by your inability to form coherent words. Each powerful thrust pushed your thoughts away, filling your mind with nothing but the sensation of him inside you. “What was that? Having trouble concentrating?” He squeezed your hip more painfully, forcing you to arch your back more.
“I- I can’t…” You managed to get out as you opened your mouth again but then closed it. He laughed huskily, relishing your desperate moans and how your body squeezed around him involuntarily. “Can't what? Can't think straight when I fuck you like this?” His voice dangerously in your ear as he thrusted particularly deep, making your knees tremble.
“Y-yes, fuck. Too much.” His lips curved into a smug smile against your neck, knowing exactly the effect he's having on you "Then tell me to stop..." He deliberately grinded against you again, his hands trailing down your sides "Say the word, I'll stop right now..."
“No, don’t! Don’t fucking stop.” You moaned as he squeezed your ass making you gasp. San chuckled, a dark and satisfied sound that rumbles through his chest. He leaned in as his hips continued to move, grinding against you with each word. "That's what I thought." He took a deep breath as he moaned in your ear, making a chill ran down your spine.
“Your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like I do, right love?” With a low and possessive voice he whispered into your ear as he could feel your walls tighten around his dick even more. You only shook your head but he wasn’t satisfied with it enough.
“Ah, come on, use your pretty mouth like you always do in my class when I ask something.” You swallowed when he remained you again that he is your professor. He didn’t sound like he was referring to that but somehow it did.
“No he doesn’t- he doesn’t.” You moaned as he let out a small laugh, being satisfied with your answer. Fuck you were so fucking beautiful, he wanted to be in your pussy everyday, touch you everyday…
“I’m close, fuck.” He buried his face in your neck from behind and exhaled deeply. “I know, love. Just- just hold on for me okay?” He let out as he kept thrusting more and more chasing his high. He could feel how close you were. He kissed your neck slowly and moaned as he tried to keep control.
“Let it out.” He whispered into your ear, making you gasp, he felt you trembling beneath him. Your legs were shaking as you let it all out, he thrusted into you for the last time as he came. He put his body on you, still being inside you as you both tried to catch your breath. Your chest was rising up in an incredible speed. Fuck that was the best fuck you ever had.
He cleared his throat as he pulled out of you, making you empty all of sudden. With a slow movement you moved back and turned around. San looked at you with a grin on his face, your mascara was smudged, your hair messy and your cheeks flashed red. “So beautiful.” He leaned for a kiss and you let him kiss you again and again. He cupped your cheek and then pulled away, he grabbed his pants and put it on as he watched you put your clothes on. God, you were so beautiful. He knew that it was wrong, hell it was awful what he did. But he felt wonderful, you made him feel something he never did before. And you felt the same towards him.
A few weeks passed since the wonderful fuck you had, that you can’t stop thinking about. At the end of the class which you didn’t pay much attention to, because your whole eyes were stuck on him, his voice interrupted you.
“Ms. Y/n, meet me after your classes.”
next part
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shinebyeoli · 14 days ago
Text
STICKY SITUATIONS
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✶PAIRING: Spiderman! Yunho x Fem! reader
✶WARNINGS: superhero au, spiderman! yunho, Best friends! wooyoung and san, fighting (spiderman), smut, pet names, cursing, wooyoungs a fangirl over spiderman.
✶A/N: I want to do Ateez fanfiction as them as superheroes, and so, obviously Yunho is Spiderman.
✶WORD-COUNT: 5.8k
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The city always felt different at night. The once-bustling streets had quieted down, save for the occasional honking of taxis and the distant chatter of late-night wanderers. The streetlights buzzed softly, casting a warm glow over the pavement as you, Wooyoung, and San walked along the sidewalk, the three of you lost in conversation.
"You’re crazy if you think that’s the best Marvel movie," Wooyoung argued, waving his hands in the air dramatically.
San scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I’m just saying, the storyline actually made sense. Unlike the mess of a plot twist your favorite one had."
You laughed, watching the two bicker for what felt like the hundredth time that night. It was always like this—Wooyoung and San found the most random things to argue about, and you somehow always got stuck in the middle.
"Alright, alright, let’s call a truce before one of your heads explodes," you teased, nudging Wooyoung’s shoulder.
He huffed but grinned. "Fine. But only because I’m too hungry to keep fighting."
"Didn’t you just eat?" San raised a brow.
Wooyoung clutched his stomach dramatically. "That was, like, two hours ago! Do you know how long that is in Wooyoung time?" He says pointing to himself with two fingers.
You rolled your eyes as San shook his head with a laugh. The three of you turned the corner onto a dimly lit street, the atmosphere shifting slightly. The sidewalks weren’t as lively here, and the sound of distant sirens echoed faintly through the air.
Something about the silence felt off.
You felt it first—a strange uneasiness creeping up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your gut twisted, an instinct screaming at you that something wasn’t right.
"Hey, does this street feel…weird to you?" you asked, slowing your steps.
San glanced around, his playful demeanor dimming as he too seemed to sense the shift in the air. Wooyoung, usually oblivious to danger, actually frowned.
"Yeah… we should probably—"
Before he could finish, a loud crash shattered the silence.
A black van skidded to a stop in the middle of the road, its tires screeching against the pavement. The doors were thrown open, and within seconds, several masked figures jumped out, their movements quick and calculated. They were armed with guns.
Your breath caught in your throat.
"That’s bad," Wooyoung whispered, stepping back.
"Very bad," You muttered.
"Fuck," San cursed, grabbing your wrist instinctively. "Run."
But it was too late.
One of the men barked an order, and suddenly, the air was filled with chaos. A shot rang out—probably not meant to hit, just to scare—and screams erupted from the few people still lingering in the area. The three of you turned on your heels, sprinting in the opposite direction, but they were fast. Too fast.
The night erupted into chaos behind you—yelling, footsteps pounding against pavement. A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence. Your breath caught, your pulse hammering against your ribs as you sprinted down the street, barely processing what was happening.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Wooyoung cursed as the three of you ducked into an alleyway, your backs hitting the cold brick wall. But before Wooyoung could make it, a strong hand grabbed him by the arm, yanking him backward. He let out a sharp yelp as he struggled, twisting and kicking in their grasp.
"Let him go!" you shouted, instinctively lunging forward.
Another man grabbed you before you could reach him, his grip bruising as he pulled you back. You thrashed against him, panic surging through your veins, but he was stronger. San tried to fight off one of the others, managing to land a solid punch before getting overpowered.
This wasn’t just a mugging. They were organized. They were looking for something—or someone. And you were trapped.
Then, just as your captor tightened his grip, something—or rather, someone—dropped from the sky.
A red and blue blur crashed onto the scene, landing with a force that cracked the pavement slightly.
Spider-Man.
For a moment, everything stilled.
"Hey, fellas. Now, I know we’re all having fun here," the masked hero quipped, standing to his full height. "But I have a strict policy against terrifying innocent civilians. Superbad look, guys."
The men froze in place.
And then all hell broke loose.
The first guy barely had time to react before Spider-Man shot a web, yanking the gun straight out of his hands. Another moved to attack, but the hero was faster—ducking, twisting, landing a solid kick that sent the man sprawling.
"Tsk, tsk." Spider-Man shook his head. "Guns? Really? That’s just lazy."
The scene erupted into chaos.
Spider-Man moved fast—faster than you could keep up with. He flipped and twisted through the air, his webbing shooting out in rapid succession as he took down the masked men one by one. Wooyoung managed to break free in the commotion, stumbling toward you to break you free. You both ran to San as the three of you watched the fight unfold in stunned silence.
Wooyoung let out a breathless laugh. "Holy shit, that’s so cool."
San nudged him. "Now is not the time to fangirl."
It didn’t take long. Within minutes, the assailants were either webbed to the walls or unconscious on the pavement.
Spider-Man landed a few feet in front of you, tilting his head. "Everyone okay?"
Wooyoung, still breathless, gave a thumbs-up. "That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen."
San nodded, still shaken but managing to find his voice. "Yeah… yeah, we’re good."
The casualness of his tone made you blink. He had just taken down multiple armed men in a matter of minutes, and he was talking like he had just finished a workout.
San let out a low whistle, still catching his breath. "That was… a lot."
Wooyoung, on the other hand, was practically buzzing with excitement. "Dude. You. Are. Freaking. Amazing." He gestured wildly at the unconscious men. "Do you even realize how freaking cool that was? I mean, you—" He mimicked web-shooting with his hands, making whooshing noises. "—and then you did that insane flip, and—"
Spider-Man chuckled and patted Wooyoungs shoulder. "Glad you enjoyed the show."
Spider-Man turned to you then, and for a moment, you swore he lingered. Even through the mask, you could feel the weight of his gaze.
"You good?" His voice was softer now.
You swallowed, still feeling the remnants of adrenaline in your bloodstream. You couldn't help but feel a rush of heat go up to your cheeks. "Yeah. Thanks to you."
There was a small pause. Something about the way he was looking at you—studying you—sent a strange warmth through your chest. But then, as quickly as the moment had come, he stepped back.
"Alright then," he said, clapping his hands together. "My job here is done." And just like that, he shot a web to the nearest building, leaped up, and vanished into the night.
Leaving you standing there, heart still pounding. For a second, none of you spoke.
Then Wooyoung let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was—holy hell."
San ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Holy shit sums it up pretty well." He let out a deep sigh.
You exhaled slowly, trying to ground yourself. "Let’s just go home."
They both nodded, and together, the three of you started walking.
At the next intersection, Wooyoung and San turned toward their own apartments, each of them giving you one last look.
"You sure you’re okay?" San asked. "I mean, that was a lot to process..."
"I'm fine San." You managed a small smile. "Yeah. I’ll see you guys tomorrow."
Wooyoung gave you a playful salute before they disappeared down their street.
And then it was just you.
The city was quieter now. The excitement of the night had dulled into a hum of distant traffic, the occasional flicker of headlights passing by.
You pulled your hoodie tighter around you as you walked, your steps steady but your mind still racing.
Everything felt surreal, like a fantasy dream. One second, you were hanging out with your best friends. The next, you were running for your life. And then Spider-Man swooped in, saved you like it was nothing, and disappeared into the dead of night.
Your fingers twitched at your sides and you could still feel the ghost of his touch—the way he had held you when he pulled you away from danger.
Shaking the thought away, you turned down a quieter street. It wasn’t too far to your apartment now. Just a few more minutes. But then there was a noise...
Tick. Tick. Tick.
You stopped. You cocked an eyebrow. The sound was faint, almost drowned out by the night and the noise of wind. It was coming from the building beside you.
Slowly, you turned your head. The alley next to the building was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the pavement. But the sound—that sound—was definitely coming from there.
A slow, rhythmic ticking. Like a countdown.
Your stomach twisted. Your instincts screamed at you to move. But you couldn't. it was like your legs were paralyzed and—
BOOM.
The explosion shattered the quiet night. The force of the blast hit like a shockwave, sending a fiery burst of heat through the air. The impact knocked you off your feet, throwing you backward before you even had time to scream.
For a split second, you were weightless—falling, the world tilting...
But before you hit the ground, something caught you.
No, not something... Someone
A strong arm wrapped around your waist just as a web shot out, pulling you up seconds before debris rained down onto the street below. Your breath hitched.
Your mind barely had time to process what had just happened before you were soaring—high above the city, away from the destruction.
The wind roared past your ears as you clung to the one person who had just saved your life again.
And then, just as quickly as you were pulled away, you landed on a rooftop. You gasped, heart hammering as your feet touched solid ground.
Spider-Man was still holding you, his grip strong, steady—protective.
For a long second, neither of you spoke. The distant wail of sirens echoed below. The glow of the city lights cast long shadows across the rooftop.
His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. "You okay?" he asked, voice quieter this time.
You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. "I—yeah. I think so."
His hold on you didn’t loosen immediately. It was as if he was making sure—like if he let go too soon, you might slip away again.
The realization made something in your chest tighten.
Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you. Even through the mask, you could feel the intensity of his gaze.
"You shouldn’t have been there," he murmured, almost to himself.
"I wasn’t exactly planning on walking past a random explosion," you said, attempting to lighten the mood. Your voice came out more breathless than you intended.
His jaw tensed slightly. "You could’ve died."
You weren’t sure why, but the way he said it—low, edged with something almost like frustration—made your breath catch.
His fingers twitched against your waist before he finally let go. The absence of his touch left the night air colder.
"Thank you though," You breathe out as you look at him. You wondered what he looked like under the mask. "For saving me... again."
"You're welcome."
He then exhaled sharply as if debating something. Then, reaching into his suit, he pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.
Wordlessly, he took your hand and pressed it into your palm.
Your fingers curled around it automatically. "What is this?"
His voice was quieter now. More certain. "A lifeline," he said. "Just in case."
Your pulse jumped. You looked up at him, searching for something—anything—in his masked expression. But before you could say anything, he stepped back.
"Stay safe, Y/N..."
He winked at you and then, in one swift motion, he shot a web and disappeared into the night. leaving you standing there, gripping the note, your heart still racing.
Far below, the city continued on, unaware of what had just happened. But you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him.
Your phone buzzed violently in your pocket, snapping you out of your daze.
Still gripping the note, you fumbled to pull it out, your hands shaking slightly as you answered.
“Y/N!” Wooyoung’s voice practically exploded through the speaker causing you to flinch a little. “Did you hear that?!”
San’s voice followed, equally frantic. “Forget hearing it, we felt it! That explosion was huge—where are you? Are you okay?”
You swallowed, your heartbeat still uneven, and a tiny bit of sweat dripped down your forehead. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay.” You glanced down at the note in your hand, the small folded paper feeling heavier than it should. “Spider-Man—he… he saved me.”
A pause. Then Wooyoung, in complete disbelief: “Wait- again?”
San exhaled sharply. “Holy shit, you have got to stop getting into life-threatening situations.”
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the note. “Yeah, well… at least this time, he gave me something.”
Wooyoung gasped dramatically. “Oh my god, a gift?, a love letter?”
You scoff and roll your eyes. “Not exactly.”
Carefully, you unfolded the paper, the streetlights casting just enough of a glow for you to see what was scribbled inside.
A phone number.
Your breath hitched slightly. “He gave me his number,” you murmured, more to yourself than to them.
Dead silence.
“WHAT?!” Wooyoung shrieked so loudly you had to pull the phone away from your ear.
San sounded equally stunned. “Hold on, he just gave you his number? Like—"here call me sometime." type of shit?”
You swallowed, staring down at the digits. “I… guess?”
Wooyoung was losing his mind. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THIS IS LIKE A ROMANCE MOVIE BUT IN REAL LIFE. YOU HAVE TO CALL HIM.”
San groaned. “Give her a second to process, dude.”
Your fingers traced over the numbers absently, your heart still hammering in your chest. “Yeah,” you muttered, barely registering their bickering. “I think I will.”
Because something told you this wasn’t just a random exchange. This was the beginning of something else. Something big.
And for the first time tonight, despite everything, a small smile found its way to your lips.
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Three months had passed since that night. Since the explosion. Since the moment Spider-Man slipped you his number and changed your life forever.
Because Spider-Man was Jeong Yunho.
And now, he was your boyfriend.
The warm glow of your bedside lamp flickered gently against the walls, the soft scent of candles filling the dimly lit room. You sat cross-legged on your bed, your laptop balanced on your thighs as you mindlessly scrolled through your work. The night was calm, the city humming faintly in the background through your slightly open window.
Then there was a familiar thud. You barely had time to glance up before the window swung open, and a tall, breathless figure climbed inside.
Yunho.
His suit was slightly dirty, the red and blue fabric stretched taut over his muscular, tall frame. His chest rose and fell heavily as he pulled his mask off, tousled dark hair falling over his forehead. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair before looking at you., panting a bit.
You smirked, resting your chin in your palm. "Rough day, Yun?"
He let out a dry chuckle, tossing his mask onto your desk as he padded toward you. "You have no idea."
You shut your laptop, scooting over as he all but collapsed onto your bed with a dramatic sigh. He stretched out beside you, one arm draped lazily over his face. His eyes closed briefly as he relaxed beside you. The air between you both felt thick with something more than just the comfort of being together. He had been gone all night, and it had become routine for him to come to you like this—exhausted, a little broken, and yet still somehow whole in your presence.
You watched him, his chest rising and falling in time with his breathing. There was something about him tonight—something that felt different.
He turned his head to face you, his brown eyes meeting yours in the dim light. "I missed you," he muttered, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words.
Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time he had said that, but tonight, it felt heavier, more real.
"I missed you too," you replied softly, your breath catching as you leaned closer, just barely brushing his arm with your fingers.
He smiled then, a slow, almost lazy smile that had a way of making your heartbeat quicken. Without a word, he shifted, moving until he was hovering above you, his body pressing down gently against yours. The familiar warmth of his chest, the scent of him—like cologne and sweat, and the faint hint of something stronger—surrounded you.
His hands, large and sure, braced on either side of your head as he looked down at you. His gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability passing through his eyes before it was replaced with something darker—something that made your breath catch in your throat.
"Is it okay if I..." he trailed off, his voice barely a whisper, his face inches from yours.
You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, Yunho. It’s okay."
And with that, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more desperate, more urgent. His hands slid to your sides, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before pulling you closer as if he couldn't get enough of the feeling of you beneath him.
The kiss deepened, his body moving against yours in slow, deliberate motions that made your heart race, and your senses heighten. Every part of you burned for him, and he could feel it in the way your body responded to his gentle touch.
His lips left yours, trailing hot kisses along your jaw, down your neck, the soft exhale of his breath making your skin tingle. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging him back to meet your lips again, pulling him closer as if you never wanted to let him go.
Yunho groaned against your lips, his hands sliding beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your stomach. The touch sent a shockwave of heat through you, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your mouth.
"You drive me crazy, y'know that?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he nipped lightly at your earlobe.
You couldn’t help the small, breathless giggle that escaped your lips. "I could say the same about you."
His hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your body, and for a brief moment, there was a sense of hesitation in his movements. But only for a moment.
"I want you," he whispered, his voice raw with desire.
Your heart skipped again. You could feel the tension building between you both, the anticipation crackling in the air as you gazed up at him.
“I want you too,” you breathed, your hands sliding up to pull him closer, your body arching instinctively toward his.
The world outside, the city, the noise, the chaos, faded away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other. The kiss deepened once again, more desperate this time as if you were both starved for each other, needing this moment more than anything else.
The dark-haired boy's hands were everywhere now—on your back, your waist, your legs. His fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it off, desperate to feel more of you. you groaned as he did, your body shuddering slightly at the contact, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the sensation of being this close to him, of having him like this.
But before things could escalate further, Yunho pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control of his breath.
“I don’t want to rush this,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that only seemed to make everything more intense.
You nodded, your hands still tangled in his hair as you gazed up at him. “We don’t have to. I just want to be with you, Yunho.”
He smiled, his lips pressing against yours one last time—slow, gentle, a kiss that spoke volumes. And in that moment, it wasn’t just about the passion. It was about connection. About how, no matter what, you both had each other.
Yunho’s body pressed against yours, the weight of him both thrilling and intoxicating as he kissed you deeply, his lips claiming yours with an urgency that made your heart race. You felt the cool air of the room against your bare skin, every inch of you alive with anticipation. His suit was still intact, but the tension between you was palpable, and you could sense his desperation.
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you pushed your hands down to the fabric of his suit, feeling the smooth material beneath your fingertips. “Yun,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing. “What if we take this off?”
He paused, his breath hitching as he looked down at you, a mix of desire and amusement in his gaze. “And ruin it? I just got this suit,” he replied, trying to maintain his composure, but you could see the hunger in his eyes.
“Who cares?” you challenged, your fingers gripping the fabric tighter. “You’ve got more important things to focus on right now.”
With a swift motion, you tugged at the fabric, your determination making you bold. The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the room, and you felt a thrill rush through you as you ripped a hole in the crotch area of his suit, revealing the toned skin beneath. His already hard cock sprung out and hit his covered stomach.
Yunho’s eyes widened in shock, and then he blushed, the tension breaking momentarily. “This is the second suit I’ve been through with you” he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.
You couldn’t help but laugh too, the sound ringing through the air as you looked up at him, your heart racing. “What can I say? You make it too easy to get carried away,” you teased, your fingers brushing against his exposed skin, feeling the heat radiate from him.
He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned down, capturing your lips again in a heated kiss. “You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed his body harder against yours.
“I learned from the best,” you shot back, the playful banter only heightening the tension between you. The sound of fabric tearing had only fueled the fire inside you, and you could feel the need building again, stronger than before. You ran your finger over his leaking tip.
Yunho pulled back slightly, glancing down at his ruined suit with mock seriousness. “I- I might need to start keeping a spare suit at y- your place,” he breathed, his tone teasing but laced with genuine desire as he panted a bit.
“Or maybe just skip the suit altogether next time,” you suggested with a smirk, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch.
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again, the urgency returning as he pressed his body against yours, the remnants of his suit only adding to the thrill of the moment. “If you keep this up, I might not be able to hold back,” he warned, his voice low and filled with promise.
“Then don’t hold back,” you challenged, your heart racing as you met his gaze, your body aching for him. “Such a pretty cock, hm?” You coo.
With a growl, Yunho wasted no time. He closed the distance again, kissing you fiercely, the remnants of his suit only serving to heighten the tension between you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as you surrendered to the moment, the laughter and playful teasing giving way to something deeper, more primal.
In that heated exchange, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—lost in each other, tangled up in passion, and utterly consumed by desire.
As Yunho kissed you deeply, the rip in his suit widened, and you could feel his hard member rub against you, throbbing. The thrill of the moment sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, the laughter still lingering from your earlier banter.
But then, as if the tension of the night had reached its peak, you felt the unmistakable sensation of his arousal pushing through the tear in his suit. Your breath hitched at the intensity of it, and Yunho’s gaze darkened as he pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours.
“Guess I’m not the only one who’s a little too eager,” he murmured, his voice low and husky with need.
With a swift motion, you pushed him back just enough to sit up, and before he could react, you tore at your own bottoms, fabric ripping away with a satisfying sound. The sudden exposure made your pulse race, and you reveled in the way his eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Now we’re both ready,” you teased, your voice sultry as you leaned closer, your body radiating heat as you pressed against him, skin to skin.
Yunho growled low in his throat, the sound sending a thrill through you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, his fingers curling around your waist as he pulled you closer, his body flush against yours.
He quickly shifted, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned you, and you could feel the undeniable heat of his desire against you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he confessed, his voice thick with lust as he pressed his body against yours, the remnants of his torn suit hanging around his hips.
“Then don’t hold back,” you urged, your breath hitching as you felt the weight of him pressing down, the heat radiating between you both. You needed him, needed to feel him fill the void that had been growing inside you.
With a fierce determination, Yunho pushed forward, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. The taste of him, the urgency of his movements, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you as he nestled deeper between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation, the heat building as he ground against you, seeking more, wanting to lose himself in you completely.
“God, you drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy as he moved to kiss down your neck, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, down to your chest, igniting every nerve ending in your body.
“Yunho, please...” you begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him closer, craving more of him.
With a growl, he positioned himself, the moment stretching between you as anticipation crackled in the air. “Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of lust and tenderness.
You nodded, your heart racing as you whispered, “More than ready.”
In one swift motion, he thrust forward, the heat of him enveloping you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and you gasped, the pleasure coursing through you as his long and veiny cock filled you, stretching you in the best way. You could feel him deep inside, and everything else faded away—the world outside, the chaos of life—until it was just the two of you, lost in each other.
“Yunho,” you moaned, your body arching instinctively against him, urging him on as he began to move, his rhythm steady and intoxicating. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, and you felt yourself spiraling, surrendering completely to the sensations. He kept hitting your G-spot causing you to whine and moan.
He matched your movements, his breath ragged as he lost himself in you. “Y- you feel so good, tiny” he groaned, his voice filled with raw desire, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, wanting every inch of you.
The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting against skin, the heat between you rising with each passing moment. You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the world around you fading into nothing as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your bodies.
“Yu- Yunho, don’t stop-” you gasped, each thrust igniting a fire within you, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the heat building, the pleasure reaching a peak as you clung to him, urging him on, wanting nothing more than to feel him completely.
Yunho filled you completely, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming in the best possible way. He held you close, his breath hot against your neck as he began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his every thrust, the rhythm building between you as passion grew.
With each movement, his thrust grew more sloppy and hard, whines and moans filled the room. The taller boy grunted as he gripped onto your hips. You could feel the heat pooling deep within you, the tension building with every thrust, every stroke. Yunho’s eyes were locked onto yours, filled with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your heart race even more.
“Yunho,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets as you surrendered completely to the pleasure he was giving you. “I- f— fuck.”
He responded with a low growl, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, the primal rhythm echoing in the room as you lost yourself in the intensity of your connection. You could feel every inch of him, every powerful thrust igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.
Suddenly, with a wicked glint in his eyes, Yunho shifted his grip and pulled your hands above your head. “Let’s make this even more interesting,” he murmured, shooting out a silky web from his his hands—a playful reference to his alter ego. In one swift motion, he tied your wrists together, securing them above your head.
A thrill raced through you at the sensation of being restrained, the vulnerability heightening the intensity of everything you were feeling. “Yunho, what are you—” you started, but he silenced you with a fierce kiss, his body pressing down against yours, pinning you to the bed.
“Just trust me,” he said, his voice low and teasing. The possessiveness in his tone sent another wave of heat through you, and you nodded, surrendering completely to him.
With your hands tied, Yunho resumed his movements, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding. The sensation of being held down while he drove into you was exhilarating, and you could feel the tension building higher and higher with each powerful stroke.
“Yunho, yes,” you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming as he hit all the right spots, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you completely. You could feel every single inch of him, the way he filled you, stretched you, driving you closer to the edge.
“You like that?” he asked, a smirk on his lips, his eyes dark with desire as he watched your reactions. “I want to hear you.”
“More,” you begged, your voice breathless as you writhed beneath him, the pleasure coiling tighter within you. He was relentless, and the way he took control was intoxicating. Each thrust was a reminder of his power, his desire to consume you completely.
“More, huh?” he teased, his thrusts deepening as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans. The connection between you sparked with electricity, and you felt yourself spiraling, losing track of everything except the way he was making you feel.
Yunho picked up the pace, his movements becoming more frantic, His length hit the spot, making you whimper from it. the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. You could feel the pressure building, a delicious tension pulling tight within you, and you knew you were getting close.
“Yunho, I’m—” you gasped, your body arching against him, desperately seeking that release.
“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. “I’ve got you.”
With a final thrust, the world exploded around you. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out his name, the sound echoing in the air as you let go completely, surrendering to the intense ecstasy that washed over you.
You open your mouth as you came on him. squeezing his member, making his grip on your waist tighten.
Yunho followed closely behind, his thrusts becoming erratic as he reached his own peak, the sound of his groan filling your ears as he buried himself deep inside you, riding the waves of pleasure together. He painted your walls with his cum, groaning as he does so.
As the intensity faded and you both collapsed against each other, he quickly untied your hands, pulling you close. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you could feel his heart racing against yours.
“Now that was something,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
You laughed softly, the exhilaration of the moment still lingering in the air. “You definitely know how to make an impression.”
s the waves of pleasure subsided, you found yourselves tangled together, hearts racing, breaths mingling in the aftermath of sex. Yunho collapsed beside you, pulling you close, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the remnants of your shared intensity lingering in the air.
“Guess I’ll have to invest in some sturdier suits,” he chuckled, glancing down at the remnants of his attire, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing in the dim light of the room.
“Or just come to me without one next time,” you suggested a playful grin on your face.
“Now that sounds like a plan,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a protective cocoon.
And in that moment, as you lay together, you knew that this was just the beginning of many more adventures to come.
Yunho chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait until next time. I have plenty more tricks up my sleeve.”
With a playful smile, you snuggled closer to him, knowing this was just the beginning of many more unforgettable moments together.
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sluttywonwoo · 9 months ago
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as someone who lives with chronic back pain, this audio i stumbled across reminded me of this fantasy i have and i think san fits the script (a little too) perfectly
(heed the tags on the audio— it includes some kinks i stray away from in my writing that might be a turn off for some)
nsfw 18+ // mdni
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“hi, baby.”
you dog-ear the page you’re on and set your book on the bedside table to give your boyfriend your full attention. “hi. good shower?”
“mhm,” san answers cheerfully. “i’m sorry i didn’t greet you properly when i first got home. i just needed to wash the day off of me first.”
“it’s okay, i know the feeling,” you assure him, stretching your arm out across the sheets for his hand.
he approaches the bed and takes your hand, squeezing comfortingly. “speaking of feelings, how are you feeling, my love? any better?”
you nod. “a little. still sore.”
san pouts. “i figured. i’m sorry, baby. is there anything i can do? do you want some tea? want me to get your other heating pad?”
“well….”
san perks up as you trail off. you almost never ask him for anything, even when you have these longer bouts of consistent pain, even though he’s always so eager to help.
“what is it? whatever it is, i’ll do it.”
you doubt he’ll feel that way when you tell him but-
“fuck me?”
your boyfriend’s smile falters but you swear you see his cock twitch traitorously beneath his towel. “except for that.”
“but you said-”
“you know we can’t,” san chides. “not when you’re hurting.”
“it’s not even that bad,” you insist.
“you’re lying.”
“but i want you.”
“so let me get you off like we’ve been doing,” he says, settling on the bed next to you.
he reaches between your knees to part them but you hold them together so that he can’t, even though it puts a strain on your back. san could easily overpower you if he wanted to, he often does when you’re feeling more like yourself, but when you’re like this… he’s overly gentle. it’s sweet, the way he treats you so delicately, but it gets frustrating when all you want him to do is the exact opposite.
san frowns. “baby…” you don’t budge. “you’re not going to let me?”
“i want your dick.”
“i know but it isn’t a good idea.”
“you don’t even have to go hard, you could just stick it in-”
“you’re unbelievable,” san mumbles, leaning forward to kiss your knee.
“is that a yes?”
he sighs, “we really shouldn’t…”
“you don’t want to?”
“it’s not about wanting to, baby. of course i want to. i always want to.”
“it doesn’t seem like it,” you mutter.
san pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. “that’s because i’m trying to think about what’s best for you. i… i know myself and i know that if i’m not careful i could make your pain worse.”
your expression softens and you release the tension from your legs, allowing san to spread them. he looks up at you in surprise.
“i don’t deserve you,” you say pitifully, then before san can deny it, "i just miss you. it's been so long."
he rubs your thigh soothingly. "i know, baby. i miss you too. do you know how hard it is to sit here and not give you what you want? especially when what you want is..." he gulps, "me... inside of you. god, even just saying it is making me hard."
"you were already hard," you point out.
"it's making me harder," he clarifies.
"you know what would help with that?"
san glares at you. "a cold shower?"
"no-"
"yeah, i know," he sighs, defeated.
"can we try?" you ask, bringing his hand further up your thigh.
his fingers flex against the plush of your inner thigh in restraint, lips pursed in thought.
"you just want me to put it in?"
"well, i want you to fuck me but i'll settle for that."
san scoffs. "promise you'll tell me if it hurts?"
"promise."
"want me to grab a condom?"
"no, just take the towel off."
"such a romantic," he teases as he slips it from his waist.
he helps you get your panties off, making you sit all the way up instead of simply arching your back so he can pull the fabric from underneath you.
"you're sure you don't want me to just eat you out?" he asks, swallowing thickly, gaze fixed between your legs.
"you can eat your cum out of me if you really want to."
"don't threaten me with a good time," san murmurs as he positions himself on top of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek as thanks. he takes your hand in one of his and lines himself up with the other. "remember, you promised to tell me if it hurts."
"i know, i promise."
"like, if it hurts at all. even just a little bit."
"i will!"
"and i mean it-"
"babe! don't you trust me?"
san sighs, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "i do, of course i do. but i also know you, and i know you won't say anything if it means i get to feel good." you make a face. he had you there. "see? i know you, baby."
"ok, but i promise i'll tell you. pinky promise." you even offer him your pinky, which he loops around his own and kisses to seal. "so can you please put your cock inside of me?"
"so impatient," san mutters to himself. he pushes in the tiniest bit, though, just the head to shut you up. "shit, you're so wet- jesus fucking christ."
"keep going," you beg, "please, more."
"yeah baby, i will, i will... but we're not fucking, alright? just putting it in. f-fuck, i don't think i could last if we did fuck. i don't know if i can last just doing this, it's been so long since i felt you..."
it's also been so long that he feels bigger than you remember and you start to tear up as soon as he's more than an inch inside. you can tell it's taking all of his self control to go this slow. his hips stutter when you clench around him for the first time and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and then stare at the ceiling for a few seconds to gather himself.
but then he looks back down at you and sees you crying and immediately panics.
"oh my god, it hurts, doesn't it? i knew this was a bad idea. i'm so sorry, baby-"
"no! no, it feels good, sannie. i promise. it feels good."
he looks like he doesn't fully believe you but then you tighten around him again and he gives in, cursing as bottoms out.
you lay like that together for a few moments before you start to get impatient again. you really thought you could handle just cockwarming him but being full of him only made you needier. shocking.
"how is it, baby?" san whispers, likely to try and hide the shakiness in his voice. "this what you needed?"
you sniffle and nod. "but i want more," you admit.
san mumbles your name in warning but you're already too far gone.
"please? please fuck me, please fuck me," you're begging and it's a little pathetic but you can't bring yourself to care. "please just a little bit, just a tiny bit."
"we agreed," he reminds you.
"i know but i need more," you whine, "i know you need more too, i can feel you pulsing inside of me... please, baby, i want to cum on your cock so bad."
your boyfriend hangs his head. "i don't know if i can," he confesses.
"you won't hurt me."
"no, i mean, i'm already so close that i don't know if i'll be able to make you cum first if i start moving- fuck, why did me admitting that make you wetter?"
"because i love you?" you try.
"you love that i'm weak for you," he amends.
"two things can be true."
san tightens his jaw and shakes his head down at you as he draws his hips back a fraction of what he normally would and pushes them forward again, building an agonizingly slow but steady pace. "you're lucky i love you too."
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tvgals · 23 days ago
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give me (black) not-so-bimbo reader x rafe cameron :P
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rafe cameron and his not-so-bimbo girlfriend! sure she dresses in all pink and her tits are huge, but, she’s super smart and doesn’t like to be reduced to her high fashion and pretty face.
sometimes, you notice people tend to glance at you once and think they have it all figured out about you, but little do they know that you go to stanford and you’re the best on the debate team!
“well how did rafe and not-so-bimbo reader meet?”
well, a while back (just a few months) you were lounging on the beach, glad there was no wind due to you multitasking of studying and going back and forth from the water with your friends, rafe noticed you and your white swimsuit a mile away! he puffed his chest out and sat next to you, languidly watching you as your eyes flicker between the words on the pages. one of your friends called your name and you look up, laughing at whatever they were doing and contently hummed to yourself. you took a quick look around and locked eyes with rafe, your heart jumping out your chest.
“oh! can i help you?” you ask, giggling a bit. you did find it weird this strange man sat next to you, but you’re always up to make new friends! rafe smiles at you and looks you up and down as if you weren’t there! he clears his throat and speaks up, “i’m rafe cameron. you don’t know me?” he smirks, leaning on his hand. you scrunch your eyebrows and giggle again. “no? well, i’m also not from here, sorry.” you smile, your face lighting up. rafe nods to himself and licks his lips. “where ya from?” he asks , taking the book out of your hands and slowly thumbing through the pages.
“oh! i’m from san francisco! i go to standford.” you explain. peering over at rafe while he looked through your textbook. “right right. so, why’re ya’ down here?” he asks, his eyes still focused on your textbook. lots and lots of legal terms… “i’m just here for my friend’s birthday! i’ll be leaving soon.” you explain, tucking a stray hair from your knotless braids back into your bun. he closes the text book and slides it back over to you, standing up and bringing a hand out to pick you up. “wanna get snow cones?” he asks.
“sure!”
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i didn’t know how to end this i’ll be back
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satoruhour · 1 year ago
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Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM
BLISS, PURE BLISS
a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱
wc: 6.4k
warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.
you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.
“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.
“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”
he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.
“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.
“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.
“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”
you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.
gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.
and then, finally, his baby boy.
“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.
“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”
you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.
“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”
all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.
“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”
although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.
“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”
but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.
it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.
gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.
it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.
you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.
“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.
“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.
“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”
“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”
that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”
“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”
“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”
“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.
it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.
“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”
confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.
“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”
by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”
“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”
that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”
“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”
“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”
the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”
you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.
it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.
so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.
[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 
and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 
“oh, shit, you’re still here?”
“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.
“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!
“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”
“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”
gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.
but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.
“you—”
your head snaps to him, “yes?”
his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.
but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.
with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.
“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.
gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.
“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.
the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.
“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.
“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”
you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.
“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”
you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”
gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”
 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.
the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.
“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.
“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”
“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”
“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”
“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”
gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.
“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.
he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.
“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”
“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”
he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.
“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”
he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.
go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 
funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.
so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.
“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”
“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”
“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.
jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”
you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”
he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”
“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.
“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”
“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.
he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”
“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”
gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.
satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —
“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”
you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”
and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.
“s-satoru . .”
“yes, sweets, what is it?”
“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.
“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.
“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”
you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.
“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.
but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.
“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”
“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.
“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.
“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.
“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”
you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.
“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.
“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.
“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”
you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.
“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.
“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.
“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.
wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.
“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”
you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”
that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.
you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.
inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.
“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.
“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”
giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.
“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”
“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”
and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.
“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”
“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”
and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.
“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”
you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.
“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”
you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 
“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”
satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.
“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.
you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.
“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”
and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.
“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.
“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”
“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.
“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.
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blakeswritingimagines · 2 months ago
Text
Here For A Good Time
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Summary: A birthday boy who lost a game but won a round.
Warnings: Birthday sex, Teasing, Riding, Mentions of reader being girlfriend but no real body mentions, Slight begging, Kissing, Mention of marking and biting, PWP, No protection, Mention of round 2.
Word Count: 3.1k
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As Nico Hischier, captain of the New Jersey Devils, stepped onto the ice for his team's game against the San Jose Sharks on his birthday, he was filled with a mix of anticipation and excitement. He knew that his team was going to face a tough opponent, but he also knew that anything was possible on a special day like today. You were in the stands watching him play, cheering him on even though you were separated by distance. As the game went on, it quickly became apparent that the Sharks were dominating.
Nico nodded, grateful for your understanding and comforting presence. As you both walked out of the arena and towards the nearest bar, he realized that even though he hadn't won the game on his birthday, he was lucky to have someone like you by his side, willing to make sure that he still had a good night. "You know," he said as they settled down at a table in the bar, "I'm glad you're here with me. I don't know what I'd do without you." "Aw," you said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "You'd manage. But I'm glad I can be here for you tonight." You lifted your glass, holding it out towards him. "To your birthday, even if the game didn't go the way you wanted it to." You spoke happily. "To my birthday," he echoed, clinking his glass against yours. "And to you, for being the best girlfriend a guy could ask for." As you sipped your drinks, the atmosphere between you loosened up a bit. By now, the earlier disappointment was already fading, replaced by the warm and fuzzy feeling of being in each other's company. "I have a surprise for you," you said suddenly, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Nico cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?" "Well, win or lose, but since you didn't win the game tonight, I figured you deserved a little something special." You reached into your purse and pulled out a small, rectangular box, wrapped in silver wrapping paper. Nico's face lit up with curiosity as she slid the box across the table to him. "What is it?" he asked, picking it up and gently shaking it. "Open it and find out," you teased, watching him eagerly as he began to tear off the wrapping paper.
As the final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game, the Devils had unfortunately lost the match, with a final score of 2-3.
Nico's head hung low as he skated off the ice, clearly disappointed with the outcome. He had been hoping to win the game on his birthday, but unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. As Nico emerged from the locker room, cleaned and dressed up after the game, he could see you waiting for him, a sympathetic look on your face. You knew how much he had been looking forward to the game, and you could tell that he was taking the loss hard. "Hey," you said softly, as he approached. "You okay?" Nico glanced up at you, his eyes still downcast. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Just…disappointed, I guess." You nodded softly. "I know," you replied, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But it's just a game, you know. You did your best out there, and that's all that matters." You spoke with a smile up at him "I know," he said, nodding. "But it's my birthday. I was really hoping we could win tonight." You smiled sympathetically. "I know you were. But hey, we can still make the night special, right? We can still celebrate your birthday." You tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah," he said, a small smile finally appearing on his face. "Yeah, we can do that. I think I need a drink, though." "I figured you might," you said with a laugh. "Come on, let's head out to the bar and toast your birthday, even if it didn't go exactly how you wanted it to."
Nico peeled away the paper and opened the box to unveil its contents. Inside, nestled snugly in a bed of tissue paper, was a brand new watch, gleaming and sparkling in the dim light of the bar. "Wow," he breathed, picking up the watch and taking in its elegant design. "It's beautiful. But you didn't have to get me anything, you know." "I know," you said, smiling mischievously. "But I wanted to. Besides, it's not just any watch. It's a special watch with a secret surprise." Nico looked at the watch again, more closely this time. "A secret surprise?" he asked, turning it over in his hands. "What do you mean?" Playfully rolling your eyes as you spoke up. "Press the button on the side," you instructed, gesturing to the small, round button on the edge of the watch. Nico obeyed, pressing the button with his thumb. As he did, the face of the watch suddenly lit up, revealing a hidden digital display. On the display, the words "Happy Birthday Nico" appeared, spelled out in neon blue letters. Nico's mouth dropped open in surprise, his eyes wide with wonder. "Did you…?" he asked, looking up at you, incredulous. You grinned at him, clearly pleased with his reaction. "I know, I know, it's a little cheesy," you said, "But I thought it was pretty cool. And it's something you can wear all the time, to remind you of me and your special day…" Nico was speechless for a moment, his stunned expression slowly giving way to a soft smile of admiration. "It's amazing," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I love it. And I love you." "I love you too, birthday boy," you replied, reaching out to take his hand. "And I'm glad I could make your night a little better, even if your team didn't win."
"You always make my nights better, even if we lose," he said, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "I don't know what I'd do without you, honestly." "You'd be just fine, I'm sure," you teased, taking a sip of your drink. "But I don't ever want to find out, for the record. I like being your girlfriend too much." Nico chuckled, feeling the tension and disappointment of the game slowly melt away. With her by his side, he felt invincible, like he could handle anything. "You're stuck with me, then," he said, squeezing her hand affectionately. Nico groaned as he collapsed onto the bed, still feeling the exhaustion from the game earlier in the night. "I can't believe I'm this tired," he mumbled, rolling onto his side to face you. You chuckled softly, rolling onto your side as well so that you were facing each other. "You played hard out there tonight," you said, tracing a lazy pattern on his bare chest with your fingers. "It's no wonder you're worn out." "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of your touch. "Still, I feel like I should be doing something to celebrate my birthday. Like, we should be out partying or something." You shook your head, smiling softly. "You've had enough for one day. You need to rest and recover. Besides," you added, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I have a little surprise for you, if you're up for it." That piqued his interest. His eyes flickered open and he looked at you with curiosity. "A surprise, hm? I thought the watch was my surprise." "Well, the watch was the first surprise," you said, continuing to trace patterns on his chest with your fingers. "But I have another one in mind for now." You leaned in closer, bringing your lips to his ear and whispering softly.
A shiver ran down Nico's spine as he felt your breath against his skin. "What kind of surprise?" he asked, his voice low and laced with anticipation. You pulled back slightly, a sly smile playing on your lips. "A very special kind of surprise," you murmured, your hand moving further down his chest, gently caressing the firm muscles underneath. Nico's breath hitched at the touch, his body already beginning to react to your touch. "You know you're driving me crazy, right?" he muttered, his voice rough with desire. "That's the idea," you teased, your hand still wandering over his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You leaned in to press a series of kisses along his jawline, nipping at his skin softly. Nico groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations your touch awakened in him. His hands came up to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, a silent plea for more. You straddled his hips, grinding down against him as you continued to kiss and bite at his neck. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, igniting a fire in his veins. "God, you're driving me insane," he breathed, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he lifted his hips to meet yours. The feel of your body grinding against his was driving him wild, and he could feel himself losing control. "That's the idea, birthday boy," you purred, moving your lips back to his ear. "Lose control for me. I like you like that." You nipped at the sensitive skin of his earlobe, eliciting a low moan from deep in his chest. Nico's mind was foggy with desire, his body responding to your every touch like a puppet on a string. Your words sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin, and he could feel himself hardening against you. "You're killing me," he groaned, his hands roaming over your body, desperate to touch as much of you as possible. "But what a way to go, right?" you said, grinning as you felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against you. You moved down to his neck again, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there, leaving behind a trail of love bites.
Nico's breathing became ragged, his body arching up off the bed as you continued to kiss, bite, and mark him. "I can't take much more," he gasped, his hands roaming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. "Oh, I think you can handle a little more," you purred, pulling back to look at him. Your eyes were dark with desire, and you were clearly enjoying the power you held over him in this moment. Nico swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Don't tease me," he pleaded, his voice rough and strangled. "Please, I need you, I need you now…" Your eyes glinted as you looked down at him, taking in his disheveled appearance. "Oh, I see," you said, feigning innocence. "And what exactly do you need, hmm? Use your words, birthday boy." Nico groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "You know exactly what I need," he said, his voice strained with desire. "You know what you're doing to me, and you're loving every second of it." "Maybe I am," you admitted, grinning as you watched him struggle to control himself. "But I like hearing you say it. I like watching you come undone at my touch." Nico's eyes locked with yours, his expression pleading. "You're going to be the death of me," he muttered. "But fine, I'll give you what you want. I need you, baby. I need you so badly it hurts. Now, please, no more teasing." You chuckled softly, your eyes softening at his admissions. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" you said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "And since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can give you what you want…" You shifted, positioning yourself over him, your breath mingling with his as you spoke against his lips. "Anything to make your birthday extra special," you murmured, leaning down to capture his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Nico's hands came up to frame your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he returned the kiss desperately. His body was taut with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with electricity as he waited for you to make your next move.
You pulled back just enough to nip at his lower lip, before moving downwards to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest. Your hands roamed over his body, fingers dancing over his sensitive spots, causing him to shiver and buck beneath you. Nico's breath was coming in ragged gasps as you continued your ministrations, his body arching up off the bed to meet your touch. "God, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. "Please, baby, don't make me wait any longer…" You leaned down to press a kiss to his hip bone, grinning at the way he shuddered beneath you. "Patience, birthday boy," you teased, looking up at him through your lashes. "I'm just getting started." Nico let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against the pillows. He was coming undone beneath your touch, his control slipping away with every kiss, every bite, every caress. "I can't take much more," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with need. You reached down to guide him inside you, taking your time to savor the sensation of being filled by him. "Mmm, you're so big and hard for me already…" you begin to lower yourself down, inch by delicious inch, until you're fully seated on his lap. Starting to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. "Like this, Nico? Is this what you wanted, baby?" Leaning forward to capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, moaning softly into his mouth as you kept up with the slow, passionate pace. Nico groaned, his hands roaming over your body as you moved above him, enveloping him in a wave of sensation. "God, yes," he gasped, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good. So perfect." He captured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he eagerly returned the kiss. His hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as you continued to rock against him, each shift of your hips sending waves of pleasure through his body. "Baby, you're so good," he breathed, his head falling back against the pillows.
You smiled at the compliment, your hands sliding up his chest to toy with his hair as you continued to move above him, the intensity of the sensations building between you both. "I could do this all night," you purred, nipping at his neck as you picked up the pace. Nico groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter as the pace quickened. "Don't tempt me," he said, his voice gruff with need. "I won't last long if you keep doing that." You chuckled softly, biting down on his earlobe as you continued to move against him. "Oh, I think you can handle a little more," you whispered, increasing the pace even further. "You're going to drive me insane," he gasped, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it was almost painful. But he didn't care, his mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure your movements were bringing him. "That's the idea," you repeated, grinning as you continued to grind down against him. You could feel the pressure building inside you, the sensations threatening to overtake you at any moment. Nico's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to hold on. "Baby, I'm so close," he gasped, his eyes clenched shut as he struggled to control himself. You reached down to capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Let go, birthday boy," you whispered against his lips. "I've got you." That was all it took to push him over the edge. With a guttural moan, he surrendered to the pleasure, his body tensing up as he let go completely. "Baby, I'm coming," he gasped, his hands gripping your waist tightly. You watched with satisfaction as he came apart beneath you, the pleasure you had taken from him now mirrored in your own body. You slowed your movements, bringing him down from the high, your own breathing still coming in quick, shallow gasps. You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, your fingers gently brushing away the strands of hair that had stuck to his sweat-slicked skin. "You okay there, birthday boy?" you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips.
Nico chuckled weakly, his eyes fluttering open as he tried to catch his breath. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be okay again," he said, his voice rough with exertion. "You just blew my mind." You smiled, feeling a sense of triumph at his words. "Well, that was the idea," you said, gently untangling yourself from his embrace and crawling up to lie beside him. "But I hope I didn't overdo it." "No, no, it was perfect," he said, rolling onto his side to face you. "You're always perfect." He reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his fingers as they traced a path down your cheek. "You're pretty perfect yourself, you know," you said, smiling softly. "Happy birthday, Nico." He smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, baby. For everything. For the watch, and for this." He gestured to the rumpled sheets and the aftermath of their passion. "Well, you deserve the best," you said, snuggling up against him and resting your head on his chest. "So I had to make sure your birthday was extra special this year." "Well, you definitely succeeded," he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. "I don't think I've ever had a better birthday." He was silent for a moment, his fingers gently tracing along your spine. "Although, there is one thing that could make this night even better," he said, his voice low. "Oh yeah?" you asked, curiosity piqued. "And what's that?" He shifted, rolling over to pin you beneath him, his hands on either side of your head. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I can think of a few more ways to celebrate..." You gasped as he pinned you down, a shiver of anticipation running through you. "You're insatiable," you said, a playful smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not complaining." "I can't help it," he said, leaning down to trail kisses along your neck. "You just bring out the animal in me, baby." He began to move against you, his body already responding to your proximity. "And I'm not done with you yet…"
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yourlocaljonghoe · 4 months ago
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(Not) Another Love Song. || Choi Jongho.
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Summary: having a crush on your new roommate is already nerve-wracking enough. but then finding out about his secret cover account made everything even worse. you swear you didn't mean to find it. but when his voice is the only thing helping you through sleepless nights, what else can you do?
Pairing: choi jongho x reader
Genre: college au, roomates to lovers, fluff, smut (mdni)
Wordcount: 11.5k
Warnings: mentions of insomnia, big dick!jongho (i mean duh), manhandling, body worship, nipple play, riding, unprotected sex
A/N: hello, i want to sincerely apologize for vanishing for so long and then coming back with this trashy fic🥲 seriously, in my head this was so much better, but the end result... ugh. but it's whatever! i want to thank y'all again for being so patient with me and also for 300 followers!! sooo crazy🥺 also big thanks to @inkedtae for being my beta, you were a big help! & as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!
Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf
Available here on AO3.
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“So… I heard someone here got caught in a very awkward situation with their new roommate,” Wooyoung teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he sat down beside you.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please, Wooyoung, don’t remind me. It was so fucking humiliating.”
He laughed, clearly having no intention of stopping. “So, what exactly were you even searching for when he walked in? 'How to talk to your insanely pretty and hot roommate for dummies'?”
You shot him a glare, your cheeks burning. God, you wanted to disappear off the fucking earth, anything to make the teasing stop, really. “I just… didn’t know how to talk to him, okay? And it was just a dumb search. I didn’t expect him to walk in and see it. I-i thought he was out and I would have enough time to prepare some things if I wanted to say to him. You know my conversation skills aren't exactly the best…”
Wooyoung chuckled and leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. “Well, you’ve definitely made an impression now. But, hey, maybe it’s a good thing! Now he knows you’re shy, and maybe thinks it's kind of cute.”
You groaned again, sinking even deeper into your chair if that was even possible. “It’s not cute. It’s mortifying. He probably thinks I'm such a loser now-”
“Which you are-”
“Shut up, Wooyoung!”
He leaned in closer to you again, his smirk growing. “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to avoid him forever, or are you actually going to talk to him like a normal person?”
You groaned, feeling the heat rise to your face again. “I don't know, okay? I'll figure it out… eventually.”
Wooyoung snorted, clearly not buying it. "Sure, ‘eventually’ meaning ‘never.’ Just admit it - you’re avoiding him because he’s totally your type.”
Before you could muster a response and curse him out again, the door to the boys’ shared apartment swung open, and in walked San, Yeosang, and Yunho, their voices filling the room as they entered. They paused when they noticed you and Wooyoung huddled together, immediately raising their eyebrows. 
“What’s going on here?” San asked, a mischievous look in his eyes as he plopped down on the couch beside you.
“Oh, just Y/N getting caught by Choi Jongho - you know, her new roommate - googling ‘how to talk to your roommate 101’,” Wooyoung said, his grin practically splitting his face.
You wanted to personally scratch it off his face.
Yunho’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he burst into laughter. “Girl- No way! You didn’t!”
You buried your face in your hands, wishing the ground would just swallow you up. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?"
Yeosang settled down on the armrest, his expression more curious than teasing. "Why didn’t you just talk to us? We could’ve helped.”
“Yeah,” San added, nudging you playfully. “We’re pros at this stuff. Jongho’s just a guy - granted, a rather intimidating guy, but still.”
“Can't one of you just talk to him?” you whined. 
San chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean… we’re not that close to him yet either. He’s still new at the college, and he’s pretty reserved. Besides, he’s your roommate, not ours.”
You sighed. "Great. So, not only am I living with someone who’s way out of my league, but no one’s even close enough to help break the ice."
Yunho nodded sympathetically, but there was still a playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah, sorry, but it looks like you’re on your own for this one. Well, sort of. We can still help you figure out how to approach him though since, no offense, your social skills suck.”
“None taken,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.
Wooyoung leaned in again, clearly enjoying your discomfort just a bit too much. “You know what would help? Actually spending some time together at your place. You two barely even cross paths. That’s probably why you’re so nervous around him.”
“Yeah,” San chimed in, catching on to Wooyoung’s idea. “You live together, but it’s like you’re living in two separate worlds. If you just hung out at home one night, it could break the tension.”
You frowned, the thought of spending a night alone with Jongho making your stomach do flips. “You all know how awkward I am with people…”
Yunho smiled reassuringly. “It will only be as awkward as you make it. Just think of it as spending time with a friend, not as some big, intimidating thing. You could start with a movie, order takeout, something low-key, you know?”
“You don’t have to force a deep conversation either,” Yeosang added. “Just focus on getting comfortable around each other. Once that happens, the rest will surely follow.”
You bit your lip, considering their advice. It wasn’t like you had much to lose - things were already awkward, and avoiding him clearly wasn’t working. But the idea of initiating something still made you nervous. You were a shy, quiet person, and if the boys hadn't practically adopted you, you probably wouldn't have any friends on campus now.
“Come on, Y/N,” Wooyoung encouraged, seeing your hesitation. “You’re making it a bigger deal than it is. Jongho’s not going to bite. And if things get weird, just laugh it off. He’ll appreciate the effort.”
You sighed, finally relenting as you realised they were right - much to your dismay. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to spend some time with him. But if it gets too awkward, I’m blaming all of you!”
Yunho grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. “Let's wait and see first.”
Wooyoung patted your shoulder, his smirk softening into a more genuine smile. “You’ve got this. And hey, if it turns out he’s as cool as he seems, maybe you’ll end up being great friends - or, you know, more.”
You rolled your eyes at Wooyoung’s last comment but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. By the way, where are the others?”
“Uh, Y/N's getting shy~ Look at her blushing and trying to play it cool!”
“One day, Jung Wooyoung, one fucking day!” you hissed, and if looks could kill, he'd definitely be dead by now. 
The others laughed, and Yunho casually threw his arm around you as he sat down, practically shoving poor San out the way.
“But to answer your question: they're grabbing some food. You hungry?” he asked.
“Very”, you answered. 
“Great,” he smirked. “Gotta tell the others about the incident with your crush too once they're back.”
“Whatever dude,” you murmured, sighing defeated.
Operation: ‘How To Talk To Your Roommate’ was officially starting.
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You paced around the living room, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. The food you spent ages on - cooking was never a talent of yours, so it took longer than it should have - was set up on the small dining table, and you’d even gone the extra mile, lighting a few candles to create a warm, cozy atmosphere. You’d picked out an action movie to watch too, something random you found while scrolling through Netflix, hoping that Jongho would be a fan of the genre. He certainly didn't strike you as the romantic type of guy.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and with each passing minute your hands got sweater and your heart beat faster. What if this doesn’t go well? What if he thinks it’s weird? You tried to push the thoughts aside, reminding yourself that Jongho never came across as a rude guy in the few months you've known him. Sure, a bit reserved, but so were you. Just relax. It’s not a date. It’s just two roommates hanging out.
You inhaled deeply, straightening out your shirt for what felt like the thousandth time. You were dressed casually but nicely, a nice shirt and some jeans that went perfectly along together. 
The faint sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You quickly tried to compose yourself, running through the plan in your head one more time. Movie, dinner, small talk. Just act natural. Imagine he was one of the guys. Just a super cool, chill evening together.
The door creaked open, and you turned to greet Jongho - only to be met with a sight that made your brain short-circuit. 
In your defense: you were on your period. Meaning you were super horny these days. Plus… it was Jongho. Sue you for having functioning eyes.
He stepped in, and the first thing you noticed was how the drops of sweat clung to his skin, making your mouth almost water. He was wearing a black tank top that clung to his frame, showing off his broad shoulders and toned arms. A dark beanie was pulled down over his head to keep his sweat-soaked hair in check. He was panting slightly, the evidence of his workout clear as he dropped his gym bag by the door.
You blinked, trying to force your brain to reboot. This was going horribly wrong. 
His eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in the scene - the dim lighting, the candles, the carefully set table. You could see the moment his gaze settled on you, still frozen in place by the door.
“Uh... what's all this?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
You opened your mouth to respond, but no coherent words came out. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts all tangled up at the sight of him. All you could focus on was how that damn tank top clung to his chest and the way his arms flexed as he moved. It was enough to make you feel lightheaded, and the fact that you were on your period only doubled every emotion and reaction you felt to an unbearable level.
“I-uh-” you stammered, your cheeks burning as you tried to string together a sentence. "I made dinner... I mean, I tried- I- I mean, it's not a 5 star meal but I'm sure not too bad either… hopefully. W-whatever, it's just food, you know? And I thought we could, um, hang out... since we're, uh, roommates and all... and... uh…”
You could see the confusion on Jongho’s face deepen as you rambled on, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to follow your erratic train of thought. The more you babbled, the worse it got, and you could feel tears out of frustration build behind your eyes, making your stomach churn.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Jongho asked, taking a cautious step forward, his voice gentle but tinged with concern. 
No. No, you weren’t. And it was your own fault for being so damn anxious over nothing.
You needed to get out of here - away from him, away from this mess of a night. You couldn’t deal with this right now, not with him standing there, looking like every fantasy you’d ever had and more while you were… Well, you.
Shy, awkward, weird you.
“I-I'm fine!” you blurted out, your voice cracking as you backed away toward your room. “I just, uh, forgot something! I’ll be right back! You can eat without me!”
Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and bolted, practically slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. Once inside, you leaned against the door, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in shaky gasps. 
You sat on the floor with your back against the door, trying your best to calm your racing heart. You wanted to scream, cry, or maybe both. All the effort you put into tonight - cooking, setting the table, choosing a movie - it all seemed like such a waste now. How could you face Jongho after what happened? Or rather didn't happen. God, you stood there completely frozen. How embarrassing. And then you couldn't even talk properly. 
What a fucking loser you were.
Minutes passed, and yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave the room. You could hear faint sounds from the living room: the clinking of plates, the shuffling of feet, and the occasional low hum of a voice - probably Jongho talking to himself as he ate. The idea of going back out there made your skin crawl, so you decided to stay put. Maybe he would think you fell asleep or were too tired to come back out. Either way, facing him seemed impossible right now.
Your ego was too hurt.
Just as you were trying to finally move away from the door, a faint rustling sound caught your attention. You looked down and saw a small piece of paper being slowly slid under your door. Hesitant, you picked it up, your heart pounding as you unfolded it.
The note was short, written in Jongho’s neat handwriting:
Thanks for the dinner. It was really good. Hope you’re feeling better soon. Get some rest. Goodnight :)
Jongho.
A small smile stole its way on your lips. He wasn’t upset or weirded out by your behaviour. If anything, he just seemed concerned. It made your heart race, but this time, not out of anxiety.
Gathering your courage after another few minutes, you slowly opened your door and peeked out into the living room. The place was quiet, the table cleared, and the lights dimmed. You expected to see Jongho already back in his room, but instead, you found him asleep on the couch.
He looked peaceful, his head resting against the arm of the couch, his breathing slow and even. He must have dozed off after cleaning up. Your heart softened at the sight, guilt creeping in as you realised he had taken the time to clean up everything by himself while you were hiding away in your room. 
As you quietly approached the couch, you noticed his laptop open on the coffee table. The screen was still on, casting a soft glow over the room. The faint light outlined his peaceful features as he laid sound asleep, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
You glanced curiously at the screen, wondering what he was trying to do before he fell asleep.
There were several tabs open - a mix of school assignments and a music playlist paused midway through a song. But one tab in particular caught your eye: a YouTube account page.
Oh. Oh. 
His YouTube account to be exact. 
You stood there for a moment, your eyes fixed on the open YouTube tab on Jongho's laptop. The username ‘im_finale’ was displayed in the corner, and you could see a list of song covers he'd uploaded, each one with quite a handful of views. You’d heard him singing before - just snippets of some melodies as he cleaned or studied - but you never would've thought he was actively posting covers online. It was surprising, considering how reserved and private he generally was. But at the same time, it also wasn't. 
After all, he studied music just like you.
Curiosity got the better of you and after a brief moment of hesitation, you tiptoed back to your room, closing the door gently behind you. Once inside, you sat on your bed and pulled out your phone. You typed “im_finale” into the YouTube search bar and, sure enough, his channel immediately popped up. The profile picture was simple - a black-and-white image of a piano key, fitting for the kind of channel he had.
You slowly scrolled through the videos. There were a few classic ballads, some more modern pop songs, and even a couple of R&B tracks. Without thinking too much about it, you grabbed your airpots and then clicked on the most recent upload.
The melody of Through The Night by IU started playing, and there was a brief pause before Jongho’s voice joined in, soft and angelic. 
You leaned back against your pillows, closing your eyes as you let the music fully take you in. It was incredible - better than you could ever have imagined, to be honest. A shiver ran down your spine as the soft falsetto hit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. This is amazing, you thought. His voice had a way of drawing you completely in, of making you forget the whole world around you.
It was just you, him and the melody in the background. 
When the song ended, you opened your eyes and realized you’d been holding your breath the entire time. The room was quiet again, and you immediately started missing his voice in your ears. You didn��t want the moment to end, so you clicked on another video, and then another.
You spent the next hour or so listening to more of his covers, and before you knew it, your eyes had fallen shut, and your breathing slowed down. 
Jongho’s voice was the only thing your mind still registered. It carried you off into sleep, and there, in your dreams, you were no longer listening to his voice through headphones. Instead, he was right beside you, laying in the quiet of your room, softly singing just for you.
Each word he sang seemed meant for your ears alone, and the warmth of his presence made your heart flutter. In that dream, there was nothing bad, nothing to keep your mind in a frenzy - just the two of you, side by side, his beautiful voice wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.
For that brief moment, nothing else mattered. It was just you, him, and the music.
You didn’t know when you drifted off completely, but as you slowly succumbed to your tiredness, his voice still lingered in your mind, keeping you company through the night.
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“And that's it for today. Remember: all of today's topics are very important for the next exam!”
You blinked, slowly waking up from your slumber as the lecture hall buzzed with the noise of students packing up their things. Your head was still groggy, the weight of the all-nighter you’d pulled for an assignment last night catching up to you during the lecture. You were vaguely aware that the professor had been going on and on about some theory or another, but you didn't actually remember a single word. Instead, you'd spent the entire class lost in a dreamlike state, all you could really focus on was Jongho’s voice playing over and over again in your earphones.
It has been a week now since you discovered his secret account, and in that time alone, you spent countless hours listening to his covers over and over again. 
As you sat there, still blinking sleep from your eyes, you felt a presence settle beside you, and without thinking, you mindlessly muttered, “Jongho?”
“Yeah, it's me. You okay?”
You jolted upright, startled at the sound of his voice - not through your earbuds this time, but right beside you. You pulled your airpods out and turned your head, half-expecting to still be dreaming, but there he was, standing right next to you with a slightly concerned look in his eyes.
“Oh my god, you're real,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You cringed at your own words, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson red. “I mean - uh, hi.”
Jongho's brow furrowed, though there was a small hint of amusement in his expression. “You were completely out for the entire lecture,” he said, his tone soft but teasing. “I was sitting a few rows back, and I saw you… just knocked out. I figured I'd come check on you.”
“Oh god, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remaining drowsiness. “I was up all night working on an assignment and then… I guess I just passed out.”
Jongho gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I could tell. You looked like you were having a good nap though,” he teased gently. “I was thinking… if you want, I could send you my notes from the lecture. I know you missed most of it.”
Your eyes widened at his offer, your heart skipping a beat. “R-really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all,” he shrugged, “I mean, we’re roommates. Might as well help each other out, right?”
You felt a wave of warmth flood your chest, and a big smile stole its way on your lips. You’d been so nervous about him this whole time, but here he was, offering to help you like it was nothing. He wasn't a big, intimidating guy some people made him out to be. He was kind. And cute. So, so cute. “Thanks, Jongho. I’d really appreciate that.”
“No problem,” he replied easily, waiting for you to gather your things. “I can send them over later tonight, or... well, if you want, we can go over them together now?”
Were you imagining things or was Choi Jongho actually getting red in the face right now?
You blinked, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest altogether. “Oh! Uh, yeah, that’d be great. I mean, if you have time? Like- no pressure, dude.”
He snorted, quickly hiding his laugh behind his hand. You blushed again. “I’ve got time right now. Let’s head to the café right outside the campus or something.”
You couldn’t help the little smile that spread across your face. This was your chance to actually spend some time with him, and your nerves were already buzzing with anticipation. You felt like the happiest woman in the world right now.
“That sounds perfect.”
As the two of you left the lecture hall, you found yourself slowly relaxing. Jongho was easy to talk to, much more than you’d expected. Sure, he was still a little reserved, but he had a dry sense of humour and was actually quite the goofball, making you laugh and smile so hard it almost hurt.
But just as you were walking through the campus toward the café, you heard a familiar voice call out, “Y/N!”
You turned around to see Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang walking towards you, their faces lighting up when they spotted you and Jongho together. You spotted Wooyoung's grin miles away already, and you knew you were in for his usual teasing.
You froze next to Jongho, and he sent a questioning look towards you.
“Well, well, well. Look who we have here,” Wooyoung smirked, stopping in front of you two. “Didn’t we have plans today, Y/N?”
Your eyes widened, and a long forgotten thought popped up again. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We were supposed to meet up at the restaurant, weren’t we?”
San crossed his arms, trying to look serious but failing to hide the playful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, the others are already waiting there. It's your turn today, but you probably forgot that too, right?”
“…And what if I did?” you mumbled quietly, shying away from their gazes. Truth be told, the last few days have been pretty hectic for you. Getting your assignment done and dealing with your insomnia (again) had taken up pretty much all your time, and the only thing making your day brighter has been Jongho.
Not that you'd ever tell him that.
Jongho glanced between you and your friends. He shifted his weight slightly, his brow furrowed in mild concern. “Uh, do you want to go with them then? I mean, if you forgot… I don’t want to make things awkward,” he said, trying to gauge the situation.
“What? No, it’ll be fine, you can come with us if you want,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I mean, it’s just dinner with friends. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
Jongho hesitated, looking at you and then back at your friends. “I don’t want to intrude or anything,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t really know you guys that well.”
San stepped forward, his smile wide and welcoming. “You’re not intruding! We’d love to have you. Besides, Y/N talks about you all the time, it's time for us to finally get to know you for real.” 
Your cheeks flushed at that, and you could feel the heat rising. “Okay, maybe not all the time,” you mumbled, shooting Jongho an apologetic look. 
“See? You’re already family now,” Wooyoung teased, throwing an arm around Jongho’s shoulders. Jongho stiffened slightly, clearly not used to the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away. 
“Alright, let’s get going then,” you said, trying to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness. “I really don’t want to keep the others waiting.”
Together you started walking to your favourite Korean restaurant, just five minutes from your campus. Wooyoung and San kept talking and laughing together, with Yeosang throwing in a comment here and there, while Jongho walked beside you, a bit quieter but smiling at the playful exchange nonetheless.
When you finally arrived, the familiar scent of fried rice and kimchi welcomed you. The restaurant was completely full as always, and you spotted Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, and Mingi at your usual table, all of them already deep in conversation.
“Hey! Look who finally decided to show up!” Yunho called out, waving you over. His grin was infectious, and you felt your mood lift even more at the sight of your favourite people.
“Sorry! I lost track of time,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you approached the table. “But I brought my roommate along! Everyone, meet Jongho!”
“Nice to meet you, Jongho!” Mingi said, extending his hand for a shake. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Jongho looked a bit surprised but shook Mingi’s hand with a shy smile. “Nice to meet you too.”
Seonghwa leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Is she loud? Messy? Annoying? You two also study music together, right? How is she in class?"
“Okay mom, let Jongho sit down first,” you laughed, guiding Jongho to the seat right next to you.
Jongho chuckled softly at your comment, and slowly took the seat beside you, though you could still sense a bit of his initial hesitation in his movement. It was probably overwhelming to be surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces all at once. You glanced over at him and shot a reassuring smile. He returned it, his expression softening a little.
Seonghwa leaned in with a playful smile. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Don’t think you’re getting away without answering that one!”
Jongho glanced at you, his lips curving into a slight smile. “Honestly, we don’t get to see each other much because our schedules don't quite align. But I can say she’s definitely better than my last roommate. A lot quieter, too.”
San raised an eyebrow. “Quieter? Are we talking about the same Y/N? The one who constantly talks and talks and-”
“Enough, Choi San!”
Jongho giggled. Oh god, that gummy smile and the sound of his slight laughter would be the absolute death of you. “Compared to my last roommate, yes. Trust me.”
You grinned, trying to ignore your rapidly beating heart. “You’re making me sound boring.”
“Nah,” Jongho replied, shaking his head. “You’re definitely not boring. Just… respectful. Which I appreciate.”
There was a warm look in his eyes, and you felt your heart skip a beat. But before you could dwell on it, Wooyoung cut in, “So, what’s she like in class? Is she as much of a goody two-shoes as she pretends to be?”
You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully. “Excuse me, I’m just trying to pass, okay? Not my fault your grades suck-”
“-my grades are just fine, thank you very much,” Wooyoung grumbled. 
Jongho smiled, his gaze flickering to you. “She’s a good student. Serious when it counts, but still knows how to have fun.”
“Wow, I almost believed that,” Yeosang joked, earning a round of laughter.
“What is it with all of you today…”, you mumbled, sighing at their teasing. Hongjoong shot you an apologetic look from the other side of the table.
San raised a shot glass and grinned. “Alright, enough of that. It’s game time. How about Truth or Dare?”
Yunho quickly grabbed the bottle of soju from the table you ordered earlier. “Oh, yes. Truth or Dare, with a twist.” He wiggled the bottle in his hand. “A shot if you don’t answer or refuse a dare.”
Everyone cheered as the game began, with the bottle passed around and the first few rounds filled with harmless dares and easy truths. As the soju loosened everyone’s nerves, the questions became bolder, and the laughter grew louder.
Mingi got asked who from your friends he'd consider for a potential threesome, and with red cheeks the gentle giant mumbled Yunho and that girl in his class he'd been interested in for awhile now, before quickly downing a shot and avoiding everyone's eyes.
Eventually, it was your turn. “Truth or Dare, Y/N?” Yunho asked, his eyes glinting mischievously.
“Truth,” you said, knowing you weren’t in the mood for a dare just yet.
“Describe your ideal type,” Yunho said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.
You hesitated for a moment, your thoughts racing as you tried to keep your cool. “Well…” you began, looking down at your hands. “I guess I like someone who’s not too loud-”
“-that feels oddly targeted,” Wooyoung mumbled, but you deliberately ignored him.
“And who can be very playful but also serious when it matters. Someone who's kind and has a good sense of humour, even if it's a little dry at times.” You glanced quickly at Jongho before looking away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Someone who’s hardworking and determined, who takes what they do seriously. Oh, and physically…” you trailed off, your cheeks warming as a picture quickly came to your mind. “I guess I’m into someone with a strong build… someone who’s tall but not too tall, maybe with broad shoulders. And, um… nice eyes.”
“Nice eyes?” San echoed, grinning as he raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“Okay, that's enough!” you laughed, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. “You got your answer. I exposed myself enough.”
But, as always, Wooyoung wasn’t letting you off that easily. “Hmm, strong build, nice eyes… sounds like someone at this table fits that description,” he teased, nudging Jongho with his elbow.
Jongho’s ears turned pink, but he quickly composed himself, at least from the outside. “I didn’t realize this was now a matchmaking session,” he said with a soft laugh.
You quickly reached for a shot and downed it, trying to shift the attention away from you and the poor man next to you. “Alright, who’s next?” you said, waving your hand.
“Yeosang, c’mon!” Wooyoung and San shoved the poor man, and all of you laughed as you watched the chaos unfold.
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“You're an idiot!” you whined for the fifth time in a row as Jongho carefully guided your wobbling figure along the sidewalk. Jongho’s hand remained steady on your arm, keeping you upright as the cool night air brushed against your flushed cheeks.
“I'm the idiot?” he chuckled, “unbelievable. As far as I know, I'm not the one who forgot their wallet for the dinner they were supposed to pay for.” 
You huffed, your pout deepening as you glanced up at him. “It’s not my fault!” you protested. “I had every intention of treating everyone, and then - poof! My wallet decided to disappear. It’s probably off somewhere having the time of its life without me.”
“Uh-huh,” Jongho replied, his lips curling into that teasing smile you were starting to become very familiar with. “Sure, blame the wallet. It definitely wasn’t the fact that you were rushing out the door half-awake this morning and even forgot you had dinner plans with your friends in the first place.”
“Okay, I’ll admit I was a bit of a mess,” you conceded, shooting him a sheepish look. “But still! You didn’t have to pay for everything, you know. I feel bad about it. It was supposed to be my treat, not yours.”
He shrugged, his grip on your arm gentle but firm as he guided you over a small bump in the sidewalk. “I told you, it’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’m happy to cover it. Besides, I’d rather do that than have you stress out over it in front of the poor barista.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, though the fondness in your gaze betrayed your attempt at being stern with him. “But that’s not fair! Now I owe you, and I don’t like owing people.”
Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You can’t just accept a little kindness from your roommate?”
You felt a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “It’s not that I can’t accept kindness,” you murmured, your voice softening. “It’s just… I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or something.”
He shook his head, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “Trust me, I don’t think that,” he said. “I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to.”
“But you paid for eight people you basically didn't know!” you whined.
“Seven,” he said.
“Huh?”
He looked you right in the eye. “I only paid for seven. After all, I know you, Y/N. Perhaps even better than you think.”
You opened your mouth to argue further, but the alcohol in your mind made it difficult for you to come up with any smart remarks.
“Okay,” you said at last, giving in with a reluctant sigh. “But I’m still cooking dinner for the next two weeks. No excuses!”
“Deal,” Jongho replied easily, flashing you that signature gummy smile you so adored. “Do I have to be scared though? You know, because….”
“I had an accident in our kitchen once, Jongho! Once!”
“Yeah, and what if you accidentally kill us with your next accident?”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder as he laughed loudly beside you. “Ha ha, very funny,” you muttered, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide. 
This has been all you wanted.
Talking, laughing, just being with him.
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“You’re still awake?” Jongho's voice broke the silence as he walked through the door, his brows rising when he saw you lying on the couch.
“Yeah,” you sighed, keeping your gaze on the TV. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Jongho dropped his keys onto the table and made his way over to you, sitting down at the edge of the couch. “Another rough night?”
You nodded. After a few weeks, the two of you had finally gotten closer, even going as far as sharing a few personal struggles with one another here and there. And when you opened up about your constant struggle with insomnia, Jongho showed you nothing but sympathy and support.
Now, there are little to no secrets between the two of you.
Well… except one.
 “Guess my brain didn't get the memo. Again.”
He frowned, his eyes scanning your tired face. “You should’ve called. I would’ve come back sooner.”
You shook your head. “You were out with your friends. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”
“It wouldn’t have,” he said, his tone soft but firm as he settled in next to you. “Let’s see if I can help.”
Jongho's eyes wandered to the empty spot on the coffee table where your earphones usually sat. "Where are?...”
“My earphones?” you chuckled.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “You always have them, especially when you can’t sleep.”
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Oh, right. Funny story,” you said, a wry smile spreading across your lips. “I kind of… broke them today.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “How the fuck did you manage that?”
“No swearing, Mr. Choi! A dollar into the swear jar!”
“Goddamn it,” he grumbled, and you just watched him with a big grin on your face as he trotted to a small table across the room and reached into his pockets for some money.
“Anyways,” you began, “I was trying to untangle the cord, but it just had this goddamn impossible knot. So I thought, ‘I’ll just give it a little yank to loosen it up.’” You gestured with your hands to show how exactly you’d pulled on the cord. “Except… it wasn’t a little yank. I guess I don’t know my own strength, because the whole thing literally snapped right in half.”
Jongho let out an adorable giggle as he dropped a dollar into the swear jar, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seems like we're spending too much time together,” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk. “First, you're breaking stuff with your bare hands, and next thing you know, you'll be lifting weights in the gym like me.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Oh, please. I think I’ll leave the muscle-building to you, Mr. Choi. I don't think I could even surpass Wooyoung.” 
“Well, good thing I’m here to help you out if you ever have to fight him.” He paused, briefly glancing toward the hallway.  But about your earphones, I think I actually have a spare pair in my room somewhere. Want me to go grab them for you?” 
Your eyes widened a little. “You sure? I don’t want to take your extra pair.”
Jongho waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t use them much anyway,” he said, already rising from the couch before you could stop him. “Besides, I’d rather you have something to help you sleep.” He threw you a reassuring look as he headed down the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”
You smiled fondly, letting out a heartfelt sound. 
What a helpless fool you were.
And it didn't even face you anymore.
You heard some rummaging sounds and then, as quickly as he left, Jongho returned, holding a pair of earphones in his right hand.
“Found them,” he said, dropping them into your lap with a smile. “They might not be as good as your old ones, but they should do the trick.”
You felt your cheeks flush as you stared down at the earphones in your lap. “Thanks, Jongho. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” he said, sitting back down beside you. “So, what have you been listening to lately? Anything good?”
Your heart skipped a beat at his question. Oh no. There it was. The one question you’d been dreading for weeks. Because how on earth were you supposed to casually admit that you’d been listening to his covers on loop every night to fall asleep? How could you even begin to explain that hearing his voice was the only thing that seemed to quiet your restless mind? That every time you saw him, all you could think about was his heavenly voice?
You blinked a few times, scrambling for a response. “Oh, um… you know. Just... nature sounds.”
“Nature sounds?” Jongho raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to let out a sound of disbelief, but his lips slowly turning into a grin betrayed him. “What, like rain and thunderstorms?”
“What? No- I mean yeah, exactly!” You latched onto the excuse, nodding quickly. “The sound of rain hitting the window, thunder rumbling in the distance... It’s, um, super relaxing. You should try it out too!”
Jongho let out a chuckle. “You’re telling me that after all the music recommendations I’ve given you, you’re still just listening to… the weather?”
You squirmed under his amused gaze, feeling like you were digging yourself deeper into a hole you no longer could escape. “I mean, who doesn’t love a good rainstorm? It’s... very atmospheric.”
He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “You’re not secretly listening to those white noise apps, are you? The ones with whale sounds and stuff?”
You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up even more. “Okay, fine, you caught me. It’s... whale noises. That’s my secret. I’m a whale sound enthusiast. Go whales… or something like that.”
Jongho’s laughter filled the room, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back on the couch. “Oh my god, I did not see that coming. When you talk with our fellow students about music you always have such an exquisite taste.”
“Don’t judge me!” you whined, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Whale songs are actually very calming, okay? Very... melodic.”
“I’m not judging,” he said, but his smirk told another story, “Just... surprised, that’s all.”
“Whatever,” you mumbled, quickly hiding under the covers and putting your newly gifted earphones in your ear.
For a while, nothing but silence lingered between you two.
And while you were finally close to him, not just physically, something dimmed the sheer happiness you should be feeling right now. After weeks of wanting this - an evening alone, just the two of you, with no distractions - here he finally was, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His relaxed smile and the easy way he stretched out on the couch, clearly comfortable around you, made you weak in the knees. You wanted to keep talking, keep him here just a little longer. But another, more pressing urge that you could no longer suppress tugged at you too: the desperate need for sleep.
Again, you glanced down at the earphones he’d handed you, feeling your face heat up at the thought. You knew they’d bring you some relief, and, well… they’d help you finally drift off. But the problem was, you didn’t want him to know just what you’d be listening to. Jongho had given you endless music recommendations over the past few months, and each time, you’d nodded along and pretended to take notes. Yet every night, without fail, you’d go back to his voice - the gentle, captivating sound of his covers that somehow eased every last worry from your mind.
But listening to them now, with him here, just felt… impossible. What if he caught on? Or worse, what if he asked what you were listening to again? You’d already given him the whale-song excuse, and he seemed to find it hilarious. But if he pressed further, if he somehow guessed the truth, you didn’t know how you’d face him.
Would he find it… weird? Perhaps even creepy how obsessed you were with him?
You took a deep breath before turning your gaze back to him. Jongho glanced at you, a playful smile still lingering on his lips as he reclined back against the couch.
“Honestly,” he said, “it’s good to finally just sit and do nothing for once. Feels like it's been ages since we could hang out without something due the next day.”
You let out a sigh of relief, nodding along. “Yeah, really… It’s kind of like I’ve forgotten what ‘free time’ is supposed to feel like.”
He leaned his head back, stretching his arms out with a relaxed sigh. His shirt rose up a little, exposing just the tiniest amount of skin, and you almost went feral.
Almost.
Thank god you had a good poker face. 
“Well, now that we’re free… I hope you’ll be up for some movie nights or coffee runs together. You know, normal human activities,” he said with a slight grin. “We might finally have time for them now.”
You bit your lip, trying not to appear too eager. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“...Maybe we could even plan a trip somewhere fun. Like a quick weekend thing—hey, are you falling asleep on me?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed your head beginning to droop.
You blinked, trying to fight it off, but the weariness was impossible to ignore. “N-no, I’m still here,” you mumbled, barely coherent.
“Tell me something,” he suddenly said.
“Hm? Like… a sudden deep talk?”
He shook his head. “No, something funny. Something you've never told anyone before.”
You blinked, still caught in that dreamy, half-asleep haze, but his question pulled you back a bit, sparking a soft laugh. “Something I’ve never told anyone?” you murmured, glancing up at him, your mind trying to pull together something coherent.
He nodded, giving you an expectant look, waiting expectantly for your answer.
“Alright,” you said, after pulling something out of your memories. “So, you know the song Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur?”
He raised an eyebrow, chuckling as he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“Well…” You cleared your throat, fighting off the urge to blush. “There was a point where I listened to it… let’s just say, an embarrassingly high number of minutes. Like… 4,400 minutes. Just that song. On repeat.”
His eyes widened, and he stared at you in disbelief. “4,400 minutes?!” He laughed, shaking his head. “Are you serious? You listened to the same song for what… almost three days?”
“Don’t do the math!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as he laughed even harder, his whole body practically shaking. “It’s not like it was all at once! It was spread out over months… I think.”
He grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you that. But I have to know - why that song? What’s the obsession?”
You hesitated, looking away, unsure if you could say it outright. Because it made me think of you, you wanted to admit. But there was no way you could say that.
Because… wasn't it still too early? 
Though you knew - or well, hoped - that there was something, anything, between you, it all felt too fast. 
But maybe even that was just your insecurities speaking again.
“It… just helped me feel calm,” you finally said, settling on something true yet safe. “Like, I could close my eyes and forget everything for a few minutes. It felt… peaceful, I guess. I really needed this at that time.”
Jongho’s expression softened immediately  “I get it,” he murmured. “Music can do that. It’s like… sometimes, you just need a sound that's just for you.” He glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad this was your song.”
“My song…,” you mumbled.
His words made your heart flutter, but your tired mind could no longer keep up. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and you could barely keep yourself upright. You didn’t even realize you’d started to lean on him until you felt his shoulder beneath your cheek.
“You really are falling asleep on me, aren’t you?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You grumbled something unintelligible, too far gone to form words. But as you drifted off, you felt his arm settle around you, warm and steady just like his whole persona, holding you close. The last thing you heard was his soft chuckle and a quiet, barely-there murmur that made your heart race, even in sleep.
“May you dream of the happiest melody, Y/N.”
And you did. Along with his beautiful, beautiful voice.
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“Damn, it’s quiet in here today,” you mumbled, glancing around the mostly empty restaurant as you slid into the booth across from Wooyoung, San, and Yunho.
“Probably because everyone else is buried in textbooks,” Yunho said with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. “These exams are no joke.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes dramatically. “Speak for yourself. I’m practically living at the library these days. I didn’t sign up for this level of suffering.”
San nodded, looking equally exhausted. “Same here. Every time I close my eyes, I just see formulas. It’s like they’re burned into my brain. At times I feel like I can even smell them.”
“-How the fuck do formulas smell man?!”
You chuckled, trying not to let the mention of exams raise your own stress levels again. Life was horrible, really. After just finishing a big assignment you only got such little free time with Jongho before being thrown into the next stressful time period. “Don’t worry, guys. Spring break is just around the corner. We just have to survive a little longer.”
Wooyoung smirked, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but by the way, I don’t see you here with Jongho today. What happened? Couldn’t convince your pookie bear to take a break with you?”
You felt your cheeks flush as they all stared at you shamelessly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “He’s just busy with his study group, that’s all. Unlike you guys, he actually does something for his grades without complaining every five minutes.”
Yunho snickered. “Well, then he’s missing out. At least we make it fun.”
San grinned. “Honestly, though, you two do seem to be spending a lot of time together lately. Practically glued at the hip. When are you finally going to confess?”
Your face heated up instantly, and you felt your mouth go dry at San’s question. “W-What? Confess? What are you talking about?” You tried to laugh it off, waving your hand dismissively, but the guys weren’t buying it.
Wooyoung gasped, leaning in closer with a smirk. “Oh my god, you haven’t told him, have you? You’re seriously killing me here! It’s so obvious to everyone else I'm wondering how he hasn't realized it himself yet.”
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks reddening immediately betrayed you. “It’s not like that, okay? Jongho and I are just...we’re just friends who happen to enjoy spending time together. That’s all.”
Yunho scoffed playfully. “Yeah, right. Just friends. You realize that whenever he’s around, you can’t take your eyes off him, right? You’re not exactly subtle.”
San nudged Wooyoung beside him with his elbow, grinning. “And Jongho? He lights up every time you’re nearby. I've never seen him smile like that!”
“Well maybe that's because you don't know him that well-”
“-Y/N!”
You buried your face in your hands, feeling equal parts embarrassment and frustration. “Can we please not talk about this right now? Seriously, I came here to relax, not to get grilled on my nonexistent love life.”
Wooyoung chuckled, patting your hand reassuringly. Though you sensed he had a lot more to say, he seemed to take mercy on you. “Alright, alright, we’ll stop - for now. But mark my words, if you don’t make a move soon, we’re staging an intervention. It's slowly driving me insane.”
“Alright, so spring break - any plans?” you asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from any more embarrassing teasing.
Yunho perked up immediately. “Yes! Beach trip. I’m craving some sun and waves, honestly.”
“Count me in,” San said, leaning back with a grin. “But none of that hiking or early morning stuff. Or the others will surely complain again.”
They all laughed, nodding in agreement, and the conversation drifted into a comfortable, lighthearted debate over the best spots to visit and various activities to squeeze in. But as they threw out endless ideas, you couldn’t help but think about Jongho, wishing he could join you guys for spring break. The thought of him laughing and unwinding together with the group you deemed family, tugged at your heart. But you weren’t sure if he’d be up for it.
There was a good chance he’d already have plans with his family or his own circle of friends. You weren’t sure he’d be into the idea of tagging along with your friends. After all, he might still choose a quiet week with his family.
Lost in thought, you didn't realize you'd gone quiet until Yunho carefully nudged you. "Earth to Y/N? Thinking about someone in particular you’d like to invite?" His eyes sparkled with that all-too-familiar mischief.
You felt your face heat up again. "W-What? No, I was just thinking it'd be nice to get everyone together, you know? All of us, no stress...and, well, maybe if I were to ask Jongho, it'd be good to have a plan.”
Wooyoung threw his head back in exasperation. "Ugh, I swear if you don’t invite him, we’re doing it for you."
“Fine, fine,” you said, chuckling. “If we can all figure out what we’re doing, maybe I’ll bring it up to him. No promises, though.”
San smirked. “That's all we needed to hear. We'll take care of the rest.”
Just as you all finally settled into comfortable silence, the server arrived with your food, and everyone’s attention quickly turned to the plates being set down. It was exactly what you all needed: comforting, warm, and ever so tasty. For the first few minutes, the only sounds were forks and spoons clinking against plates and contented sighs as each of you dug in.
“Damn, this place always hits the spot,” San mumbled through a mouthful, already reaching for another helping. You just laughed as all of them devoured their plates like animals. “I swear, it’s the only good thing that’s happened all week.”
Yunho nodded, still chewing. “Honestly, if we just survive this semester, we should come back and order everything on the menu to celebrate.”
You agreed, mumbling something no one could understand as you immediately took another bite. The food was too good, and, for a while, everyone focused on just enjoying their meals. Conversations drifted between lighthearted topics - TV shows everyone was watching, the latest music releases, funny memes on TikTok - until finally, you all started to slow down, plates empty and stomachs full.
Leaning back, you stretched a little, rubbing your belly satisfied. “I’m going to hit the restroom before we head out. I’ll meet you guys outside?”
The guys nodded, already beginning to gather their things after paying for the meal. As you slid out of the booth and walked away, you heard Wooyoung’s voice echo teasingly, “Don’t take too long, Y/N! I still want to go and check out that new store at the end of the street!”
You just shook your head, smiling to yourself as you headed down the hall. By the time you returned to the entrance, they were all waiting, bundled up and leaning casually against the doorway.
As you stepped out of the restaurant, you took out your phone, scrolling absentmindedly to catch up on a few missed notifications. A few messages from your friends, Amazon telling you one of the items you want was on sale and so on. The guys were walking just ahead of you, laughing about something Wooyoung had said, and for a moment, you fell behind, trying to type while still watching the road ahead of you.
But then something made you stop short, your thumb frozen mid-swipe.
Right there, on Jongho’s cover account, was a new post - one you weren’t expecting. The title stopped your heart: “Falling Like the Stars.” 
You paused, thumb hovering over the screen as your heart thundered in your chest. Jongho had posted this song - your song. The one you’d told him about so excitedly, just a few nights ago, when he asked you about something you never told anyone before. You could practically hear your own words echoing back at you: “It… just helped me feel calm.”
He’d listened. Jongho had actually listened - and not only remembered but went so far as to cover the song himself. 
The others had started walking ahead, their voices mingling with the busy sounds of everyday life around you as they headed toward the shop Wooyoung wanted to visit. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the screen, where Jongho’s cover account stared back at you.
And at that very moment, you knew. 
You knew that he knew.
“Y/N?”
You looked up, the boys having stopped in their tracks and looking at you with confusion written all over their faces.
“I- yeah. I’m… I’m fine, I just…” Words failed you as you looked at each of their faces, one by one, not knowing how to act, what to say, what to do.
You tried to stammer out an excuse, barely piecing together a coherent thought as your mind raced. “I’m sorry, guys. I just- there’s something I have to do. Right now. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” The words tumbled out, rushed and a little breathless, as if you didn’t say them now, you’d lose the nerve.
And you felt like you really might.
“Look,” you said, “I just… I need to go. I’ll text you later!”
Without waiting, you turned on your heel, your legs already moving before you’d fully registered what the fuck you were doing. 
You barely noticed the familiar streets flying by as you sprinted the few blocks to your shared flat with Jongho. Heart pounding, half from the run and half from the thrill of what lay ahead, you finally rounded the last corner and saw the front of the building come into view.
By the time you reached your door, you were completely out of breath but determined, fumbling with your keys until the lock finally clicked. You pushed the door open, chest heaving, and there he was - sitting at the small dining table, headphones on, leaning over a notebook. He looked up, startled at the sound of the door, eyes widening as he saw you standing there, still desperately catching your breath.
“Y/N?” He pulled his headphones down, brow furrowed. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“S-since when did you know, Choi Jongho?!”
For a second, he remained completely silent. Even his body stopped moving, and he just… looked at you.
And you looked at him.
It was as if time was frozen still.
He slowly shifted in his chair, setting the headphones aside as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table.
“It was… when you fell asleep on me,” he began, his voice steady despite the tension hanging in the air. “I carried you to your room, and when I was putting you down, I saw my account open on your laptop.”
His gaze held yours, a flicker of something sincere reflecting in his eyes. “That’s when I knew. And that’s when I decided to post that cover.”
“I-” You suddenly felt the urgent need to defend yourself. And so, with cheeks as red as your favourite type of flowers, you hastily said: “Please don't think I'm obsessed with you or something! I-i seriously didn't know for a long while and- God, this is so awkward- a-and I didn't even mean to find it! If you think I stalked you, I can assure you I really-”
“Y/N-”
“No Jongho, seriously let me explai-”
Before you could even realize what happened, Jongho had already closed the distance between you and was now standing in front of you, tall and strong and commanding, with a look in his eyes that made your heart skip and your knees weak. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and then, without a warning, his lips were one yours, and you were melting away in his arms.
Your mouth willingly opened to his, and your tongues met for the briefest instance before he pulled away, panting and looking at you like a meal he wanted to devour.
“I like you, Y/N,” he said, voice husky and filled with a primal need that mirrored your own. “And I'm honored you like my covers this much. Seriously, I- how could you ever think I'd be creeped out? You've done nothing wrong, silly woman.”
He chuckled, and it made all the tension in your body disappear, and you couldn't help but to hide your face behind your hands and laugh along with him.
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You melted against him, his strong body completely enveloping you. You inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent of him wash over you - something musky yet sweet, with a hint of laundry detergent.
He laid his head atop yours, his hands slowly finding a protective  place on your hips. You both stood in silence for a moment, the world outside completely  fading away. You could hear the soft thud of his heart, steady and reassuring, syncing with your own rapid beats.
“Y/N…” he murmured softly, breaking the peaceful silence after a while. “You know… I actually wanted to quit that account for a while now.” The sudden shift in his tone caught your attention, and you looked up, surprised.
“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so talented. You shouldn’t give up on something you love.”
He sighed, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression serious. “It just… it felt like no one cared. I was starting to think that maybe my covers weren’t good enough. But then I found out you listened to it, and… and it made me realize that maybe not a lot of people might listen, but at least you are.”
Your fingers gently cradled Jongho's face, your thumbs brushing along his cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You couldn't help but smile at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You have no idea how much I love your voice,” you said softly. “It’s the only thing that helps me fall asleep at night. I’d listen to your covers over and over again, and they’d calm my racing thoughts. I- I fell for you even before we became roommates, you know? I saw you on campus with your friends, in class and… I… it hit me so fast and hard. And then we became roommates, and then-”
“Psst,” he laid a finger over your lips, and you looked up at him, confused, “You talk too much, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky. “When we could be doing this instead.” With that, he moved his hand, sliding it down the curve of your back, making you arch into his touch involuntarily.
In one swift motion, Jongho lifted you off your feet, his strong arms wrapping around you like a steel cage. You let out a startled laugh, quickly turning into a moan as you felt his hard body pressed against yours. Instinctively, you locked your legs around his waist, your arms snaking around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
His lips crashed down on yours, hungry and demanding. Jongho devoured your mouth, his tongue sweeping inside, tangling with yours in a heated dance. You could taste the hint of mint from his toothpaste, mixed with the unique flavor that was purely Jongho. It was a taste you craved for months now, and you eagerly responded, matching his hunger.
Pulling back slightly, he teased your lips, nibbling gently on your top lip before sucking it into his warm mouth. You whimpered, feeling the sensitivity of your lips as he lavished attention on them. His tongue traced the outline of it, making you shiver as he repeated the action on your bottom lip.
“God, I love your lips,” he breathed against your mouth, his voice hoarse with desire. “So soft and responsive.”
You giggled, a little breathless, as he continued to pepper kisses along your jawline, nipping and sucking gently. “I love your mouth too, Jongho,” you managed to say between kisses. “And your voice... it drives me wild.”
He chuckled, the vibration of his laughter tickling your skin. “Oh, I know, baby. But… you haven't heard anything yet, baby.”
With that, he set you down gently, his hands roaming over your body, mapping every curve and dip. He worshipped your body with his touch, his fingers trailing fire along your skin. He unbuttoned your blouse slowly, revealing your lace bra, and you shivered as his fingertips brushed against your exposed skin.
“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to touch every inch of you.”
You reached for the hem of his shirt, eager to explore his body as well. As you pulled it over his head, your breath caught at the sight of his strong chest and arms. His skin was warm and smooth, and you couldn't resist running your hands over his muscular frame.
“Feel how hard you make me,” he groaned, stopping your exploring hands and instead guiding them to the prominent bulge in his pants. You gasped at the size of his erection, feeling the length and thickness through the fabric. “I've been waiting to be inside you, Y/N. To feel your tight pussy around my cock.”
Your core clenched at his words, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “I want that too, Jongho,” you whispered,”I- ah, I want to feel you, all of you.”
He wasted no time in removing your clothes, his skilled hands efficiently unfastening your bra and sliding off your pants. Soon, you were both naked, standing in the middle of the room, desire burning in both your eyes.
Jongho's hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, making you arch into his touch. “Ah I see, my girl likes when I play with her nipples, doesn't she?” he whispered, his breath hot in your ear. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”
“I-I want you," you panted, reaching down to stroke his rigid length. “I want to feel you inside me, to ride you, to taste you…”
He groaned, his body trembling at your touch. “Then take me, baby. Show me how much you want me.”
Guiding you to the bed, he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of the passionate dance you already took earlier.
Straddling his hips, you positioned yourself above his throbbing cock, feeling the head nudge against your wet entrance. And then, slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by agonizing inch, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his impressive size.
“Oh, fuck,” Jongho hissed, his hands gripping your hips as you descended. “You're so tight, Y/N. So wet and hot.”
You moaned, feeling incredibly full as you took him all the way inside. You sat still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation of being completely impaled on his thick shaft.
“Move, Y/N,” he urged, his voice strained. “Fucking ride me, baby.”
You began to move, slowly at first, rising and falling, taking him in and out of your heated core. As you picked up the pace, Jongho's hands roamed over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples, and leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.
“That's it, baby,” he growled, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Fuck, you look so sexy riding me.”
His words spurred you on, and you quickened your movements, your hips rolling as you rode him as hard as you possibly could. The room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans, and Jongho's husky encouragements.
“That's it, take all of me,” he grunted, his hands gripping your thighs, guiding your movements. “You're so tight around my cock, Y/N. I'm gonna come so hard inside you.”
Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his chest as you quickened your pace, driving him deeper with each thrust.
“Yes, Y/N, just like that,” he groaned, his hips rising to meet your downward strokes. “Fuck, you're so tight,” he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I can feel every inch of you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard.”
You could feel the pressure building in your core, the pleasure mounting with each and every thrust. Your body trembled, your muscles clenching around his thick shaft as you rode him with abandon. The sensation was overwhelming, almost making you drown in it entirely. 
“Jongho, I'm so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking, “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-”
“Yes, baby, cum for me,” he urged, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples. “Let me feel you cum around my cock. Let me feel you milking me dry.”
The sensation of his fingers on your nipples was the final push you needed. Your body tensed, your vision blurring as the orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. You screamed his name, your voice echoing in the room as your inner muscles clamped down on his shaft, milking him with desperate, rhythmic pulses.
“Jongho! Oh, God, Jongho!”
He groaned in response, his body shuddering as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you. His hands tightened on your breasts, his nails digging into your skin as he spilled his release, filling you with hot, thick spurts of his seed.
You collapsed onto his chest, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as he panted, his heart pounding against your ear.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You're incredible. I've never felt anything like that.”
You nuzzled into his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Neither have I,” you murmured, “That was... amazing.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “We're not done yet, baby,” he said and you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “Oh, really?” you asked, your voice dripping with anticipation. “What do you have in mind?”
A low chuckle escaped him. “You see… for that, you might have to cancel any plans you might have for the upcoming spring break, because in no fucking world am I gonna let you leave this goddamn apartment before I haven't tried every position that exists out there.”
You feigned a pout, placing a hand over your heart in mock despair. “Oh no, what will I tell the boys?”
“I'll make sure to come up with a very, very believable excuse for them, baby.”
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