#Tw:noncon/dubcon

[envy-of-the-apple]

Ruptured Amethyst; Splintered Tanzanite

Dark!Satosugu x reader - Yakuza Au

Synopsis: In hopes of paying off your debt, you start working for two dangerous men. Soon, you realize they want more than money.

Word count: 9.2k

(Warnings: dark content, sexual coercion, dubcon, noncon, oral sex, piv sex, threesomes, gun, blood, violence) Ageless blogs will be blocked. Minors DNI

In this job, you quickly learned that it's better to just keep your head down. 

Do what you were called for and leave. Do nothing but sit on your computer and look at numbers. Stepping out of your makeshift boundaries led to nothing but trouble.

It worked perfectly like that for the first few weeks you were brought here. The other workers never bothered you, and it took you a moment to realize they were in the same boat as you were: owing a debt. You wouldn’t quite say things were peaceful; every so often, one of Geto’s men would hurl someone through a table, but things were manageable.

And then Gojo came back.

You hadn’t met Gojo, yet. He was overseas on a business trip when Geto brought you in. You hadn’t met him, but you’d heard enough to make you want to stay away from him. Ijichi had told you enough stories to make you want to sink into the floor altogether. You just had until the end of the year until your debt was paid. It was the beginning of September, right now. Surely, you could avoid him until then, right?

“Ah, you’re the one Suguru was talking about.”

It was your fault. It was entirely your fault. Ijichi had begged you to stay after work for a bit longer and desperate to pay the debt off, you had agreed. No one else was supposed to be in the office besides you and him.

But Gojo didn’t follow other people’s rules. It'd take you a while before you fully understand that.

You could do nothing but stand there, wobbling in your heels as Gojo loomed over you. His sunglasses were tilted, cresting over his nose as he scrutinized you. You clutched the laptop closer to your chest, as though it’d save you somehow.

Gojo didn’t look dangerous. If you had seen him on the street, you would have assumed he was a model. Tall, long hands, pretty features. Gojo doesn’t look dangerous. Gojo is dangerous. He doesn’t need the gun (casually on his side, right in your line of sight) to prove it.

You say nothing. You don’t know what to say. So far, you’ve only dealt with Geto. Geto with his fake smiles and soft words of thinly veiled threats. As intimidating as Geto was, you felt safe enough with him to answer his questions. Speak when spoken to.

Gojo was uncharted territory. Should you speak? Should you greet him? Should you get on your hands and knees? Gojo was new. You had to deal with something new, alone.

You opt to stay silent, hoping that’s the best move. It’s not. Above you, Gojo’s clicking his tongue. He leans down, stooping his head low to get a better view of your face. You stare at him until it gets too much and you’re turning away. He likes that even less, grabbing you by the chin so you’re facing him again.

“You mute or somethin’?” He asks, tilting your head like he’s assessing you.

“No,” you finally murmur. It was a question, correct? He won’t get mad if you answer his questions.

He doesn’t seem mad. But he doesn’t seem happy, either. If anything, he looks a little disappointed.

“I really don’t get it,” he’s talking, but it’s more like he’s saying his thoughts out loud, “Suguru would not shut up about you. Thought I was gonna see something more exciting. You’re so...”

He trails off as though even describing you would be a waste. The thought that Geto speaks about you to his partners scares you, but you’re wise enough not to pry. Instead, you wait. Waiting often works. You’ve been cornered by Geto’s men (before they knew he was the one who brought you), most just want to intimidate you, they get a kick out of fear. When you give them what they want, they usually leave you alone.

Gojo doesn’t leave, even when you’re sure your horror is printed on your face. Obvious to even the blind. Instead, he leans back, eyes trailing down your outfit. Despite how most of the stuff done here was off the record, Geto still prioritized a professional workplace. You were expected to put on a clean blouse and skirt every day.

You yelp when Gojo tugs on the fabric of your skirt, bunching the material on your thighs. Forgetting where you are, who you’re with, you grab his wrist.

“Don’t be like that,” Gojo chides as though you were being the unreasonable one, “I just wanna look. Seriously, what was that guy going on and on about—”

“Satoru.”

Geto’s voice stops the both of you. He’s leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a less than impressed look. You’re relieved when he’s more focused on Gojo than you.

“Sugu!” Gojo cheers, a complete 180 from his past demeanor. He lets you go and you sink against the wall in relief. “I’m home!”

“I can see that,” Geto retorts, but there’s an odd fondness laced in his tone that you’d never heard before.

The kiss they shared was violent. Tongue and teeth and messy. Gojo reached up, scrunching Geto’s hair, dragging him closer. Respectfully, you glanced away. You don’t yet leave. You know better than that, especially now that Geto is here.

“How many times have I told you to stop harassing our employees?” Geto sighs, once he’s pulled away. His tone is filled with exasperation, as though he were talking to a child.

“I didn’t do anythin’,” Gojo responds. When you finally turn back, Geto is shaking his head.

He smiles at you.

“Apologies, my dear,” he states, “you can leave. Remember to tell Ijichi you’re going.”

You eagerly nod before scurrying away. You can hear Gojo scoff, another murmur from Geto. You couldn’t care less what they’re saying, more than happy to grab your things, bid Ijichi goodbye, and leave.

Keep your head down, and don’t ever bother with what they are doing.

⟡

Technically, you weren’t in debt, your father was.

He had close ties to the underground. You weren’t sure of the details, you were so young when your mother left with you in tow. She was always stingy with the details, but she never failed to remind you that your father was a stupid man who worked with dangerous ones. She passed away right after you graduated from college. You’d mourned her.

Now, a part of you felt grateful she passed just before she saw your life fall apart.

They came in the middle of April. You remember that day purely because of the flower blossoms littering the sidewalk, the first sign of blooming spring.

There were three other men besides Geto that day, and you hadn’t known his name back then—just the man with long, pretty hair. They were all waiting for you, loitering right beside your home. When you hesitated, slowed to a stop, the man with long hair smiled at you. Geto calls your name. When you don’t respond, his smile widened.

“That is who you are, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nervously said, “sorry, but—but who are you all?”

He introduces himself. The other three don’t bother. You don’t yet realize that they’re only henchmen, mere puppets for Geto.

“Apologies, but this is a rather sensitive subject. Can we talk someplace private?”

You don’t want to let these men into your home, but his soft words and intimidating company coax you into agreeing. You lead them up the steps, praying to God that you were wrong about this—whoever they were. When you unlock the door, only Geto follows you. The rest wait outside. You don’t know if that’s better or worse.

He seats himself right on the sofa. It’s your apartment, and yet his mere presence makes you feel like he’s the owner. You loiter next to the door, twiddling your thumbs.

“Would you like tea?”

He tilts his head. “Aren’t you a polite one?”

It was more for you than for him—scurrying to the kitchen, away from his searing purple eyes. It’s a reprieve to start the burner, pour water into the pot. You take as much time as you can, but eventually, you have to come out.

Geto says nothing when you place the cups down. He takes it, humming at the taste. You don’t touch your cup.

His tone is soft. His words aren’t.

Your father did far worse than work with dangerous men. He’d stolen from them. He was already dealt with, his punishment had sent him careening off the Earth far sooner than your mother. Still, the topic of the missing money was still there.

Something that had fallen onto you, his next of kin.

You were already crying once Geto finished. Your body is wracked with sobs. You can barely suck in a breath.

“Please—please,” you’re already saying, “he—we—I swear we never received any sort of money from him.”

He takes your hand within his own, curling his fingers around them. Coming from anyone else, it would have been a nice gesture.

“I’m aware,” Geto comforts, “we know you haven’t been in contact with your father for more than a decade.”

His fingers are warm. They trace your cheek as he gently wipes away your tears.

“But in this line of business, family matters, no matter how estranged, my Dear.”

You look at him through your tears. He’s beautiful. Long black hair. If you touched it, you bet it would feel like silk within your fingers.

It’s his eyes that truly suck you in. Purple. It’s a rare eye color, you’ve never seen someone with purple eyes until now. They resemble amethyst, unpolished, but still just as beautiful.

“My partner would have much less...humane ways of dealing with this situation,” Geto continues, “but I think you could be far more useful warm rather than cold, do you agree?” You shrivel in your spot, already having an inkling to what he’s saying. It’s not like you haven’t already figured out where this was going. You’ve heard the stories of what dangerous men do to those who’ve wronged them—to the vulnerable girls who accidentally trip and fall into their trap, forced to work in brothels and debase themselves all for the sake of keeping them rich.

He laughs right then. It’s rich, deep, startling you out of your misery.

"Come now, it's the 21st century."

Geto smiles. Fake. Unsafe. 

"Women are worth far more than just their bodies." 

It turns out that even the Yakuza had paperwork.

It was a menial deskjob, on the surface, at least. If you don’t think too hard about who you’re working for, it could be a regular office. It’s not like any of the work you are provided with is illegal, but you doubt you’d put it down on your resume.

Your education had saved you. Ironic that it was your father who instilled your desire to learn.

If you don’t think too hard about it, your new ‘job’ wasn’t horrible. As notorious as they were, your new employers weren’t downright cruel. You still got paid. You had a contract. Things could honestly be a whole lot worse.

It was still very hard to get used to, especially in the beginning.

Something you learned very quickly was that the men around here did not like it when women had an attitude. You were far too meek to have one, but the other few women who worked with you became your teachers, showing you exactly what the men would do if you didn’t stay in line. You were more than happy to listen, and even then, your eagerness to learn didn’t help. In order for the lesson to truly sink in, you needed trial and error. 

You stepped out of line exactly once. And then you never did it again.

It had been an accident. You’d forgotten that Geto had an important meeting that day. You knocked on his door, shuffling some documents in your hand. It was muscle memory to just go in because he’s never said anything but come in before.

They’d all stared at you, eyes lingering up and down your body. One of them grins. Immediately, you look at Geto. Horrified. Ready to grovel at his feet if need be.

His eyes flashed dangerously. Purple turned into sharp magenta knives. Geto tilted his head.

“Come here, dear.”

You take one step. Another. Then another. The way they look at you makes your stomach twist and sink but Geto only looks at you expectantly. When you linger at his side, his lips quirk.

His grip on your waist is gentle as he guides you into his lap. Your cheeks burn, but you don’t dare move, not even when the men start laughing at the free show. Geto only curls a hand on your waist, keeping you in place as he leans back again.

“Continue, gentlemen.”

The rest of the meeting continues with you on Geto’s lap. You don’t look at any of them, hands balled into fists at your sides. You feel naked. The air within the room is stifling. You refuse to look anywhere else but the floor.

The conversation goes back to business. Despite the compromising situation, he put you in, Geto’s hands don’t wander. He's content to keep his fingers on your waist until the room filters out and everyone leaves.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Geto.” You murmur, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

He doesn’t answer, at least not to that. He just sighs, sinking into his seat. Still, Geto doesn’t let you get up. Not yet. He waits until you’re looking at him, still smiling that fake smile.

This had been a punishment. The next time you made a mistake, you doubt you’d be let off so easily.

“Learn quickly, my dear.”

You nod. You apologize again. When Geto finally lets you go, you are quick to stumble away, pushing your way out the door. Purple eyes follow you out. You don’t think they stop looking until you’re out of the room, curled into your desk, steadying your heartbeat.

You stepped out of line exactly once. You never did it again.

Despite being under Geto, technically, Ijichi is your direct superior. You thanked the Gods for it. Ijichi was the only person here you were certain didn’t have blood on his hands. He was in a similar situation as you were; stuck working off a debt that he didn’t owe. You two bonded on your shared misery. He was the one reprieve you had in your new life.

Unfortunately, now that Gojo was back, Ijichi was far busier. It gave you little time with him. You suppose you were always welcome to join them, but considering your first encounter with Gojo, you’d much rather not.

It’s not like you hadn’t had similar encounters before Gojo's arrival. In the very beginning, one of Geto’s men tried something remarkably similar. You can still remember his hand on your hip, his other hand slowly unbuttoning your shirt while other men stood to the side laughing.

It hadn’t lasted long.

You didn’t realize he was shot until he was already on the ground, twitching in pure agony. He screamed and cried louder than you had. Blood was already dripping to the floor.

Geto had already tucked away the gun, striding away as though nothing happened. He didn’t say anything, the incident was never mentioned. Even to you, his statement rang loud and clear.

You were off-limits.

Clearly, Gojo didn’t care about the unspoken rule.

So far, Ijichi hasn’t acknowledged him. If anything, your superior is hunched behind his computer, typing away, rarely taking his eyes off-screen. You admired his concentration, but it was hard for you to follow suit, considering that Gojo had taken a seat right next to you.

His stare is impossible to ignore. You can feel it even as you desperately try to focus on the screen in front of you. As if he can tell you’re intimidated by his mere presence, he leans over, shoulder pressing against your own. You could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Watcha’ workin’ on?” He asks as though he can’t already see.

Still, you falter. “Um—”

“Um’” he repeats, “that’s all you’ve been sayin’. Hey, Ijichi—” The man in question jolts up, eyes already panicked.

“Your assistant always this jumpy, or is your personality just that infectious?”

“Sir, uh—” Ijichi starts before getting cut off by a tsk.

“See? Again,” Gojo sighs, “I see why you two get along so well.”

You and Ijichi exchange glances, unsure what to do. When Gojo says nothing more, you decide it’s okay to resume work again, typing away.

Childhood friends, Ijichi told you back when you were still morbidly curious. Gojo had come from a lineage of powerful businessmen. Geto had more or less worked his way up. They became partners somewhere along that time.

It’s hard to imagine them as friends or as anything more. They’re so different. Geto is so controlled, measured with every response he takes. Gojo is more like dynamite, ready to go off at any moment.

You suppose the only similarity is how unreadable they are. To this day, you can’t tell whether Gojo dislikes you or not. Every action you take seems only to disappoint him, yet he constantly hovers around you.

It takes another minute for you to be on the keyboard before Gojo decides he doesn’t like you working peacefully. The chair creaks under his weight as he shifts closer. His head rests against your shoulder. With his new position, you can feel his breath on your collarbone as an arm casually wraps around your shoulders. You don’t dare react, but you send Ijichi a panicked look. He looks sympathetic, but he doesn’t move to help you. You can’t find it in yourself to fault him for his inactions.

“You never answered me, by the way.” He murmurs, quiet enough that only you can hear.

You respond as diligently as you can, making sure you use as few word fillers as possible. It’s clear Gojo doesn’t like that. Or rather, he doesn’t like the nervousness your voice exudes but you doubt you could fix it, especially with his presence around.

“Sounds boring.” Gojo interrupts your rambles. “You don’t do anything else more entertaining?”

“No, sir,” you reply, “I’m only in charge of paperwork.”

Despite the other co-workers you have, you are still an anomaly. Everyone here has had an experience holding a gun—even Ijichi. It’s clear Geto ‘hiring’ you was a change in pattern, something you would always be grateful for. If he hadn't, you wouldn’t want to know what was in store for you.

That’s probably why Gojo was so curious about you. However, considering how close they were, you were now wondering why Geto hadn’t explained it.

“How long have you been working here—hey,look at me when you’re talking.”

You turn, and for the first time, you willingly face Gojo Satoru. His sunglasses are tilted down, and you can see his eyes now. They are blue, so painfully blue, like an ocean, curled up tightly within his eyes. Glittering tanzanite stares back at you—beautiful gemstones that glisten beneath the fluorescent light.

Gojo tilts his head, and you remember that he asked you a question.

“Three weeks, Sir.”

He doesn’t seem all that pleased with your answer. You wonder if you should have lied instead. He’s embarrassingly close, and the position he’s forced you into doesn’t help.

“That quick, huh?” Gojo murmurs, and he sounds a little impressed, “how many times have you and Suguru fucked?”

You gape at him, horrified at even the insinuation. It takes a while for you to even find your voice. 

“I—we’ve never. Never.”

Gojo narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me. C’mon, I'm just curious.”

It feels even worse that Gojo's question isn't even unreasonable. Geto has always treated you differently. Softer. Kinder, if you wanted to be charitable. It isn't a stretch to assume you've been doing favors for the man, in this line of work, it must be a normal occurrence. Yet, you haven't. Apart from that one blunder weeks ago, Geto has never touched you inappropriately. 

Still, you shake your head rapidly, feeling heat flush in your cheeks. Being cornered and interrogated like this is humiliating, especially in front of everyone. Ijichi is nice enough to look away while you’re being humiliated, but you know he’s listening. You know everyone’s listening.

Thankfully, Geto intervenes.

“You.” A sigh of exasperation. “Get off.”

Gojo rolls his eyes, but you almost cry in relief when he pushes away and stands up.

“We were bonding,” Gojo argues, though, like everything he says, it sounds like a tease.

Geto’s murmuring something else, and it’s clear that this interaction between them is normal. It's almost a repetition of what happened last time. Both times, you’d been the commonality.

Gojo leaves eventually, shooed away by his partner. The office finally grows quiet when the white-haired man disappears to God knows where. You feel like you can breathe again, but Geto still has not left.

When you look, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, and you’re strangely reminded of a stressed mother. Finally, he lets out a breath, opening his eyes and staring down at you.

“I apologize for his behavior, my dear,” he says. There’s a hand on your shoulder, mirroring the touch Gojo gave you.

“He’s excitable, like a dog.” You don’t think that part was for you, though you don’t think you could ever even fathom comparing the terrifying anomaly that is Gojo to a mutt. You don’t respond. Geto squeezes your shoulder.

“Come to me if Satoru goes too far. I always take care of my people, don't I?”

He doesn’t leave until you give a nod. His hand finally retracts, allowing you to sink into your seat. You watch him until his figure disappears from view.

“I’m taking a break,” you say, not even a minute later.

Ijichi gives a nod as you push yourself up away from the computer. You spend your break the way you usually do: tucked inside the bathroom, trying to wonder how your life turned out this way.

⟡

Sometimes, you accompany Geto on his trips.

You don’t want to, but it’s not like you can reject his ‘requests.’ It’s part of the job, whether or not you can refuse is up to Geto’s whims.

The trips aren’t too bad. Most of the time, it’s a meeting with other dangerous men. You mainly just sit in a corner, peering down at the ground, trying your best not to be noticed. It works, most of the time. The few perks of this new life is how seldom the people of the underground want to associate with you, especially when you're with Geto. His presence is everywhere, a blanket of protection bestowed only to you. These days, you feel safe even when walking home alone at night.  

The trips aren't too bad, but Gojo's insistence on tagging along changed even that. 

You should be sitting up front. There's a perfectly vacate passenger seat, right beside Ijichi, the least dangerous man in the vehicle. Gojo had practically dragged you into the car with him, holding you hostage. Geto slid into the seat beside you, effectively trapping you between the two men. 

Despite your attempts to keep your body to yourself, every other minute, your thighs brush against theirs. It's a miserable affair, but neither comment on your breach of personal space. They're both too invested in their own little worlds. Geto peers peacefully out the window, enjoying the city life pass by. Gojo is glued to his phone, tapping away every so often. 

It's tempting to sneak a peek at them in their natural states, relaxed, unbothered. You don't stare for too long. 

Every so often, their worlds will collide. Geto will point out a cat. Gojo would reach over you, showing Geto something funny on his phone. Unfortunately, Gojo catches your lingering eyes.

"Wanna see?" He doesn't bother to hear your response, shoving his phone in your face. 

It's a cat video, of all things. You almost wanted to laugh at how normal it is, but you're too intimidated to do anything but give a strained smile, more designed to please. You expected something darker. More blood. More screams. On the screen, the orange kitten lightly bats at a ball of yarn.

"Got a cat?" Gojo asks, tucking away his phone. 

"No, Mr. Gojo." 

He tsks, but before your blood can freeze, he says, "I told you: It's Satoru." 

He's been insistent about it these past few days: Satoru. Satoru. Call me Satoru, as though you'd even dare. Beside you, Geto rumbles out his disapproval. 

"Don't be childish, Satoru." He chides.

The car rolls to a stop eventually. The relief in your lungs expands. Ijichi gets out first, followed by Geto. Before you can move, a hand grabs you by the chin, halting your movements. 

"You're not leaving this car until you say it, pretty thing," Gojo tells you. "C'mon. Sa-to-ru." 

Behind you, Geto sighs, but he doesn't move to stop him. Right, Geto promised he'd step in only when Gojo goes too far. Clearly, this is within his bounds. 

You wilt under the hardened tanzanite. 

"Satoru." You mutter. 

Satisfied, Gojo releases his hold on you, hopping out the car, humming a happy tune. 

Geto holds his hand out to you. You'd be an idiot not to take it.

"Bear with him today, dear," he tells you when you step out in the pavement, "he's in a mood." 

Amythyst sears into you. You can only nod. 

Even then, Geto doesn't release you. He gently maneuvers your arm until your elbow is interlocked with his. He takes his time, walking into the building, mindful of your heels. Ijichi and Gojo are already ahead. Gojo takes a look behind him, spots the two of you, scoffs, but doesn't do much more. 

It's another thing you don't know how to feel about. The two have always instigated less than friendly gestures toward you. Yet, neither of the two have expressed any kind of jealousy. You know they are clearly lovers, yet the way they allow their significant other to behave with you makes you feel a bit nauseous. 

 Most likely, they see you as a pet. Not even a threat to their relationship. It makes sense. In their eyes, you're probably a scared gazelle in the middle of a lion's den. Cute. Something to play with. 

There's another theory in your head that you're pushing away.

You follow the same procedure you've always followed. You stay still and silent, like a doll, right beside Geto. Strange men come up to him, greeting him with smug smiles. They barely give you a glance. That's good. It means they know you're one of Geto's. 

Gojo being there changes the dynamic. He's more serious, in this setting. You sit right next to Geto's side, listening as Gojo talks. They both do that a lot. Talking. Negotiating. Scheming. You're a bit disappointed in yourself at how easy it is to let the words swirl around until there's nothing left to understand. It's easy to ignore them now. The horrors they partake in. The horrors you are indirectly part of. 

Are you allowed to be innocent now that you work under these people? You've never pulled the trigger yourself, but is that an excuse? Morally speaking, you're the same as the men you are terrified of. 

How laughable. You came to that conclusion right when they were discussing the price of narcotics. 

Sometime later, you find yourself alone, roaming down an unfamiliar hall. It's foolish to be out without Geto or Gojo or even Ijichi, but Geto had an errand he wanted you to run. Now that it was complete, you needed to return back to him. 

Except, you had no clue where he was. 

You were lost. You should have known this would happen. Why didn't you pay more attention to where you were going? This wasn't any old building. Dangerous men lurked around, even the weaker ones carried guns and weapons. 

It was only a matter of time before one of them caught you. 

"Hey. You." 

You were considered one of Geto's, but without him in sight, you were nothing. You knew that. It's why you cower immediately. 

"I'm busy," you speak quickly, "My boss, Mr. Geto, he's—" 

His hand is rough and scared and filthy on your skin. You are basically thrown against the wall, cornered against this stranger. He smiles. His teeth are yellowed and filled with tarter and plaque. 

"C'mon, there's no need to rush. 'Just wanna have some fun. How much?" Disgust rolls off your tongue, but you don't have the courage to reveal it. 

"I'm not like that," you mutter, "I'm not for sale." 

But, aren't you? You've sold yourself to Geto, haven't you? Underneath his thumb, his whims. What makes you so much different from a hooker?

"Sure." And then there's a shift in his eyes. His face scrunches up, like he's just tasted something sour. 

"Hold on...you're—you're that bastard's kid, aren't you?" 

He says your last name, the name your father gave you with so much spite that you nearly flinch. In that moment, you realized that your father had messed with a lot more people than just Geto. 

"Yeah yeah, you're a spitting fucking image!" He gripes you harsher. "Your daddy fucked me over while you're sitting over here nice and pretty? What the fuck?" 

He's dead. He's dead and you hadn't spoken to him in over a decade, but his ghost still wants to punish you for being his kin. And this man is his executioner. 

You're expecting something violent. Something that hurt more than his hand's squeezing your bicep. Perhaps he was, perhaps he would. Unfortunately, for him, Gojo interupted his plans. 

You didn't even know that it was him, at first, on the floor, on top of the man. Gojo, despite his hungry smile, eager eyes, was always so angelic. He isn't supposed to be using his hands. He isn't supposed to inflict violence, not by himself. 

He's punching him. The man isn't a man anymore, reduced to a mere punching back. Gojo doesn't stop until he breaks skin. He doesn't stop until you can hear a distinct crack. 

Satoru doesn't stop until Suguru tells him to. 

"Don't kill him." Geto warns. "It'd breach the agreement." 

You can feel his presence, always silent, never revealing himself until he wants to be known. So unlike Gojo, who is hungry for even a second of attention. More than happy to spill blood over it.

Gojo grits his teeth, as though he's debating to even listen. He stands up eventually, chest heaving. His knuckles are caked in blood. It's not his. His glasses are off. His eyes are blown wide open like he's just hit the greatest high of his life. Geto calmly hands him a clean towel. You don’t want to know how many times this situation has repeated.

"Who gives a shit." Gojo bites out, his eyes , trailing to you, and you flinch away. He looks like a wild animal, growling and spitting. You don’t want to be next on his plate. Geto steps in front of you, barricading you from his sight.

The man on the ground had recovered enough to pathetically crawl away. It such a stark change to how he was just a few minutes ago, when he was lording over you, drunk off of his power. 

Gojo steps on his calf. The broken thing gives a strangled scream. It only makes Gojo’s manic grin wider.

"Let him go. You made your point," Geto says, "calm down." 

Firey blue eyes. Bright and violent. You don’t know how Suguru is able to withstand the intensity. Even you’re wilting when it’s not even directed towards you.

"Calm down?” Satoru asks. “You want me to calm down? Did you see what that bastard was gonna do to our—" 

"Satoru." You've never heard Geto use this tone before. "Not here. Not now." 

A silent battle warred between them. Tanzanite bore into amethyst. Which gem would rupture first, splinter into defeat? 

Eventually, Gojo looks away, cursing. He glares down at you, as though he were blaming your weakness of all things. In a way, he’s not wrong to.

"I'll wait outside." 

And then he's gone, striding down the corridor. Geto watches him go, before glancing down at you. 

"Did he hurt you?" He asks. 

You're not supposed to lie to him. You nod. 

Geto pulls on your sleeves until he can see the imprints. Light bruising, nothing too horrible. You'll survive. Geto looks less than pleased. He glances down at the remnants of the man, the imprints of blood on the floor. You pitied the person who'd have to clean it up. 

"I apologize, dear." He sighs. "I should have kept an eye on you." 

He stares at the blood some more. Then, he smiles. 

"Perhaps, it's better if I just let things run its course, this time." 

You blink at him. He ignores your silent question. Instead, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, gently leading you outside. The car is already running. This time, Geto silently ushers you into the passenger seat. You take it immediately. Gojo hadn't taken his eyes off of you. You're grateful for any barrier. 

This time, the car ride was silent. You don't relish in it. If anything, it just feels like the calm before the storm.

⟡

Soon, what Geto was talking about became apparent. 

The man who had nearly been killed by Gojo had talked. You don't know what your father did to these men, perhaps you never will, but they didn't let you forget his crimes. If they couldn't get to him, then clearly, his kid was the next best option. You know it was them. It would be no one else. 

Someone broke into your apartment one weekend. Everything was ruined. The TV was shattered and broken. Your mattress was tossed onto the floor. Every plate, cup, and bowl was smashed onto the floor. They took nothing, but they broke everything. 

You hadn't been home that night. Ijichi needed more work from you. If you had, if you had come home that night, alone, locked the door, slept in that bed, then what would have—

Geto finds you on the stairs of your apartment, curled into a ball. You watch with bloodshot eyes as he observes the damage, clicking his tongue. He doesn't look particularly shocked.

You do nothing when you feel his hand on your shoulder, brushing against the sleeves, a feign of sympathy. You don't even care to ask how he came even though you never called him. Geto has a keen sense for you. 

"It'll get worse." His voice comes. Soft, and sure. 

Yeah, you knew that. You'd been naive, following after Geto with wide eyes. You thought that if he was untouchable, then so were you. 

He speaks about an enemy group, people with debts with your father, just as he did. Of course, he knows who did this to you. You’d be more surprised if he didn’t.

You don’t care. His words go in one ear and out the other. The reasons don’t matter. Your home is still destroyed. It’s no longer yours.

"They got my phone, too," you mention to your discarded cell phone. "My emails, messages." 

You're trapped, with nowhere else to turn. All the doors are shut and bolted, and only one remains open. 

You turn to the devil. 

"Can you...help?" 

The angler fish uses its darkened habitat to its advantage. Hundreds of miles beneath the water's surface, it produces its own light as an olfactory bulb. It's an excellent predator, swinging its bio lantern around in the dark sea, the only light around for miles. 

Geto tilts his head, a smile on perfect pink lips. 

"You want my protection? It's a steep price, darling." 

You feel like an empty well, forced to give and give until you're all dried up. Who could be so greedy? Who could be so willing to take?

"I've given you everything." It's barely a whisper. "What else do I have left to offer?" 

He doesn't say anything to that, not at first. Geto kneels in front of you, a slender hand lifting your head up by the chin. Fingers trail down to your neck. Not choking, just holding. His thumb lightly presses into your throat. 

"Not everything," Suguru says quietly. 

He's right. You hadn't given him everything. So far, you have always been one of Geto's people. You were Geto's employee. You were indebted to him, but you weren't conquered by him. 

Not yet. 

He's kneeling in front of you, holding your soul in his hands and demanding for your heart. In a way, you find it a bit funny. You just don’t have the will to laugh anymore.

He's smiling again when he can tell you're finally starting to understand. "We couldn't have been that subtle, were we? Satoru never failed to express, at the very least." 

No, they never tried to hide it. Even in the beginning, when you first met Suguru, you saw the hunger. You just tried to ignore it. You tried to keep your head in the sand, hoping it would pass. It makes you wonder if you had just agreed on that very night, led him into your bed, and bared it, would things have been different? 

"I can leave. We can pretend this never happened," he coos, "it's all up to you, sweetheart." 

He's making it seem like you had a choice. In a way, you did. You're choosing between two monsters. A known and an unknown. It takes longer than you'd like to figure out which one scares you more. 

You take the bait. The angler fish siezes its prey. 

"One night?" You're trying not to beg but it's coming out anyway. "Just—just one night?" 

Geto leans forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It’s not an answer.

⟡

Despite the many months you've worked with him, you've never been to his home before. 

It's not a house. A villa maybe. The property stretches itself stretches for miles. Filthy rich. Bleeding gold. 

Geto—

("Suguru," he corrected you in the car, "considering this isn't really business, anymore.") 

—had ushered you throw a double-door entrance. You couldn't even admire the architecture. Not when Gojo was already standing there. His eyes were hidden away, tucked underneath his glasses, but you still felt his stare. And all too wide smile stretched on his lips. He greeted Suguru with a kiss. For the first time, you looked down at their hands. 

Matching rings. 

You felt sick. 

'It's all up to you, sweetheart' Suguru's voice rings through your head all through a dinner that's really nothing but a flimsy padding for the rest of the night. Food was served, wine was poured, all in a bid to ease you into it. As of right now, it's still your 'choice'. You know, without a doubt, if you backed out now, they'd let you go without a fuss. Suguru or Satoru themselves might drive you home. You'd crawl into bed without a scratch.

But you don't. You stare at your plate, picking at it when they ask questions. Satoru's in such a good mood he offers to feed you. 

It's mostly because it doesn't feel real yet. You feel like you're watching yourself go through the movements. Eat. Speak when spoken to. Smile when prompted. Empty. 

You only come back when you're standing in their room, and the door locks with a click. 

The window blinds are drawn, but there's no light to seep in. The moon is already out. You wonder how many hours you've already spent here. 

You take another step towards the bed. Then, you turn around. 

Satoru and Suguru stare right back. You feel their heavy gazes immediately, flicking your eyes down to your feet, playing with your sleeves. 

Satoru laughs, perceiving the terror as shyness, or maybe he doesn't care. He steps forward first. 

"Don't be like that." He lightly chastises you, tucking one arm around your waist. "We'll be nice. Promise, baby. We're gonna be so so good for you." 

He finds your lips, then. Satoru kisses like the sun, all fire and passion. Sinking into you, wanting to melt. It's impossible to turn away and ignore his presence. He gropes at your chest, your waist, trying to feel all of you at once. When he finally lets go, you feel dizzy. 

Suguru's kisses ground you, makes remember where you are, who you're with. He's like the Earth you're crashing back into from your high. You hurdle through the atmosphere as his hands grasp at your throat. He never squeezes, but it's more than enough to sober you. 

"You smell so nice, baby," Satoru says from his place at your neck. You flinch when teeth sink into your sink, but you don't complain. 

"That's creepy, Satoru." Suguru chastizes him.

Serpentine eyes stare into yours. You don’t get the chance to hide before you feel his breath on your cheek. Suguru tugs at the hem of your dress.

“Take this off.” He whispers into your skin. “And get on the bed for us, sweetheart.”

This is the lesser monster. It’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you pliantly nod, hesitantly gripping the fabric of your dress. It’s horrifically easy to take it off and let it drop by your feet. You can’t bear to look at them anymore.

The soft duvet sinks under your weight. It looks expensive. Silky pillows. On either side is a nightstand covered with trinkets and personal items. You spot one of Suguru’s shirts on the floor, and it takes you a second to realize this is their room, not an impersonal guest room they use to fuck the less fortunate.

They stop paying attention to you. Satoru moans loudly into Suguru’s mouth. Suguru fiddles with the buttons on Satoru’s shirt, close to ripping it off entirely. Satoru palms at the tent in his pants as he unbuckles his pants. Suguru loosens his tie. They’re so violent with each other. Dread soaks through your palms, and you curl even further within yourself. You prayed this was all they wanted from you��someone to just watch, someone less interactive.

It’s not. When they pull away, their lips are swollen. Satoru leers at you, licking at his busted lip. You can’t seem to cry anymore.

They’re both half-naked. You can see the tattoos spread on Suguru’s hand, crawling up to his shoulder. Another peeks just behind Satoru’s neck. You only get a glimpse before he’s on top of you, eager for a continuation.

“Shit, you’re so soft.” He hisses as he squeezes your bra-covered breast. It doesn’t stay on for long. You wince when his fingers trace over your sensitive tits.

Your hands squeeze into fists, because you choose this, choose them. Satoru’s more than happy to sink into your breasts. His warm tongue swirls around a nipple before fully taking it in his mouth.

“Like a baby,” Suguru says. Satoru scoffs, tossing him an impressed look.

“Shut up.” Satoru releases your breast with a wet-sounding pop. They’ll be marks there tomorrow.

His fingers trail down your breasts, your ribs, your stomach. They linger on the band of your panties.

You can’t help it. It’s instinct.

He freezes when your fingers snap around his wrist. There’s no strength behind your grip, he pauses more out of surprise than anything.

His eyes, filled with hardened tanzanite, shoot up to yours. You think, if they’d be anyone else’s, you would have envied them.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Suguru. The silence is crushing.

“Sorry.” You feel pathetic apologizing, but it’s outweighed by the fear. “I—I’m sorry. I was just—”

“It’s okay, dear,” Suguru coos. “Satoru just scared you, hm? He’s such an idiot, isn’t he?” He violently smacks Satoru on the head. You flinch at the sound. Satoru just whines, rubbing at his temple.

“Mean.” Satoru childishly says, but he’s slower now, rolling down the hem of your panties.

Suguru is quick to distract you. He’s busy with his own bottoms before he’s taking you by the chin.

His cock is already leaking precum. He’s big, and you don’t think you’ll be able to do want he wants. Suguru smiles down at you, he doesn’t need to say anything. You’re swallowing down your self-hatred before opening your mouth.

You take him in just when Satoru buries his face between your thighs. The two of you have very different reacts. Satoru just hums, finding your clit to lick. You gasp, your legs jolting as you accidentally take Suguru even deeper.

He’s nice enough to let you go at your own pace. There’s a hand on your head, petting you, easing you through the process. Even then, your mouth is stretched uncomfortably wide. Tears prick at your eyes. Suguru’s face gets blurry. You don’t think you want to look anymore.

Below you, Satoru is enjoying his meal. He’s slobbering on your pussy, eating you out like it’s his last meal. His hot tongue finds his way into your sopping hole. You squeeze your eyes, a muffled whine comes from your mouth. The only loss of control Suguru shows was how he ever-so-slightly gripped your head.

By then, you’re unintentionally squeezing Satoru’s head in between your thighs. It’s so much. Pleasure tingles up your spine as Satoru continues to worship your pussy. His nose grinds into your clit and, for a moment, you’re wondering how he’s even breathing.

Suguru’s close. You can feel it every time his balls slap your chin. He’s speaking now, words stilted and heavy. It’s the only hint you get that he’s only holding his control by his teeth. That thought scares you. At any moment he’d snap, choking you with his cock, let you suffocate while he fills your dying mouth with his cum.

“Good,” he’s hissing out, “so good—good for me. C’mon, baby, take it.”

Satoru’s hand squeezes your ass, urging you to arch off the bed. You come like that, pressing your thighs around Satoru’s head, moaning around Suguru’s dick.

Suguru barely gives a grunt before something salty fills your mouth. You have to swallow it down. It burns your throat.

The air tastes sweet by the time Suguru’s cock leaves your mouth. You’re sucking in deep breaths, breasts heaving. Incidentally, you hadn’t suffocated Satoru. He’s kissing his way up your body. A trickle of Suguru’s cum had escaped your lips. His tongue presses against your chin before he pushes it back into your mouth. You can taste your tangy essence on his lips.

“Gotta’ swallow it all,” Satoru says with a teasing lilt, “he gets mad when it’s wasted.”

You can only nod. He gives you another wet kiss before he pulls away.

They switch places, Suguru moving over until he’s between your thighs. His large cock lays on your cunt. He’s still hard, his cock twitches when he angles his hips down, letting the head run over your leaking slit.

“The only reason he's going first is ‘cuz he’s been pining for you for months.” Satoru murmurs into your ear. Strangely enough, Suguru doesn’t comment. Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend what that means.

You hold your breath just as he presses himself inside. You’re almost grateful Satoru took the time to prepare you. His salivia, and your stretched walls make it easier for Suguru to bury his length inside you.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. You hiss. Satoru feels enough sympathy to coo at you, kissing your neck, trying to distract you from the pain. It doesn't help, not even when Suguru presses light circles into your clit, easing his way through.

Suguru’s giving a harsh laugh when he’s fully seated inside, his hips meeting yours.

“Feel good, hm?” Satoru goads, reaching up to nibble on Suguru’s ear.

“Shit, so tight—fuck.”

Your hips twitch and you’re clenching down on him. Suguru doubles over, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, darling.” Scarred hands grasp your neck. “I’m going to ruin you, aren’t I?”

Your bottom lip wobbles. He’s eyeing you like a piece of meat. A gazelle in the lion’s den. To them, to men like them, you suppose you’re nothing more.

“Suguru.” You whisper because your voice is failing you. “You-you promised you’d be nice.”

Silence. And he’s laughing so hard his shoulders shake. They both are.

“We did promise that, didn’t we?” Suguru glances at Satoru. “Next time, then.”

He pulls his cock out of you slowly, dragging his head through your cunt. He’s so slow and deliberate that you think it’d feel better if he just went ahead and fucked you already.

And he was, technically. His hips rolled back into you, his cock disappearing inside your wet pussy with each thrust. It’s so much that you’re willingly arching your back, trying to do anything to alleviate the intensity.

Beside you, Satoru is pulling out his cock, his eyes never leaving the lewd sight of Suguru fucking himself into you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he’s cursing under his breath, fisting his cocl in one hand, “so fuckin’ hot.”

Suguru growls, grabbing Satoru’s stiff cock, crudely pumping his hand up and down. His movement are getting more erratic losing his pace, his patience. You’re at your end too, almost crying when someone squeezes your sensitive tits.

“How does it feel, darling?” Suguru asks with a ragged breath. His eyes are blown, you don’t even think he’s looking at you, anymore.

When you don't give an answer fast enough, Suguru snaps his hips punishingly in response. You give a sharp wail.

“I said.” Suguru hisses through his teeth. “Tell me how it feels.”

You can barely suck in a breath. You’re losing oxygen too fast.

But you’ll die if he keeps doing this.

“Good.” You tell the truth. “It—it feels good, Suguru.”

He grins, serpentine. You’ve lost a game you didn’t even know you were playing. His fingers descend on your clit.

“That’s my perfect darling.”

You sob when your walls clench around his cock, milking him dry. Your orgasm triggers his own. He curses, and something is spilled into your used cunt. Out the corner of your eye, Suguru and Satoru are kissing, going together like rabid dogs. Satoru shudders, and then all three of you are a panting mess.

You take in deep breaths, barely caring when Suguru lets out an exhausted laugh, collapsing into your chest. He licks at your sweaty skin. You just sink your head further into the pillows

It was over. It was finally over.

“You got it everywhere.” Suguru suddenly says, disgusted. He wipes Satoru’s cum off your stomach.

Satoru just snorts.

“I didn’t have a hole to dump it all in.” He snarks back. “Twice, by the way. So selfish, Sugu.”

“Quit whining.” Suguru groans. “You have your chance now, don’t you?”

What? Exhaustion blinks away.

Suguru stays by your side. Gojo is the one moving, rising from the blankets. He places his hands on either side of your hips, spreading your legs.

Geto catches your panic, easily catching you before you can even do anything. He hushes you while Satoru settles himself between your thighs, his cock pressing right at your slit.

“The night’s still young, dear.” He sounds almost sympathetic. “Be good for just a bit longer.”

By the time they’re finally done with you, it’d been hours. You can’t count how many positions they put you in, how many times your holes were filled by their cocks or their fingers or their mouths. You’re barely coherent by the time Suguru is tucking you under the soft duvet.

You feel sore and used and dirty. His soft words, filled with praises, just make you feel worse. Despite how exhausted you feel, you’re just waiting until they finally get bored of seeing your body and kick you out.

You’ll call a cab home. You’ll cry yourself to sleep. You’ll be okay.

They’re taking a while to get to that part. They’re mumbling soft words too each other, it sounds too intimate to be something you should be overhearing. Satoru’s at your back, hands curling around your waist, another brushing Suguru’s mussed hair. You can feel his soft breath at the nape of your neck.

Suguru’s eyes are on you. Amethyst watches you intently.

"Satoru,” he finally says, “go uphold our end of the deal." 

Gojo groans, annoyed. He snuggles closer to you. "Why me? You go do it." 

An adoring smile crinkles on Suguru’s lips. It makes him look younger.

"Because I don't trust you alone with this one for the night. Go."

“Ass.”

He sighs, but Gojo sits up, letting the covers shift off his naked body. 

"Stay right here for me, baby, 'kay?" He leans over, pressing a delicate kiss on your hairline. Despite everything that happened tonight, this was the most intimate thing he'd done to you. It's too...loving.

When Satoru leaves, you wait for a few moments. Suguru had yet to tell you to go. It probably meant that he didn’t want to waste his breath dismissing you. You take the hint, rising from the bed.

His fingers snap around you wrist just as your feet touch the floor.

“Where are you going?” His voice doesn’t sound accusatory, but you flinch anyway.

A wobbly smile makes its way across your face, you hope it comes across as submissive. Weren’t you done? The deal was made, that meant you could leave now, right?

"I—I need to go home?" Suguru gives a doting smile, as though you said something adoringly naive. He barely pulls on your hand, gently leading you back under the covers.

You follow because the gun glints by the nightstand. 

“Is that the best idea right now, dear?” He asks, “Who knows if those men have come back? I’d hate to see them find their target, wouldn’t you?”

He draws you into his chest. Your head is tucked underneath his chin.

“And besides, Satoru will be disappointed if you left without saying goodbye. It’d be horrible to deal with one of his tantrums so late at night.”

He buries his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Why don’t you leave in the morning? I’ll be sure to drive you back myself. By then, I’m sure Satoru will have made the proper arrangements. Don’t tell him I told you this, but—” Suguru drops his voice as though he’s scared someone might overhear”—he tends to be more efficient when you’re in the picture.”

You don’t know what he means by that, and you don’t think you want to know. Still, you lift your head, finding the courage to stare at him.

His eyes are such a beautiful color. Glittering purple in the moonlight. You’d stare at them all night if you could.

“I can leave in the morning?”

Suguru hums, kissing your forehead.

It’s not an answer.

[itsmearia01]

Past Love || Prolog

Various! Yandere! Jujutsu kaisen x Sukuna's past wife! Itadori's best friend! F! Reader

A/N : English is not my first language, sorry if there are some wrong words. (btw, here Sukuna is considered as king and you considered as the queen) And there are some OCs that I added to add more drama. Hope you like it!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 1

Series summary : You always get the same nightmare over and over every night. You feel annoyed but can't do anything about it. On the other hand, your best friend who suddenly becomes the vessel of a cursed king brings your nightmares to reality. You don't know what happened but the people around you started acting strangely.

Series warnings : Non-con, dub-con, yandere, stalking, kinks, gaslighting, blackmail, overtism, smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, all character 18+ (but first years still first year, try to make sense), sex, rough sex, oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, blood, manipulation, corruption, mind break, forced relationship, yandere character being their own warning, mind control, possessive, kidnapping. ⚠️Jujutsu kaisen character was not my original, credit to Gege Akutami as original author! There's a few OC as my originally made character. If you don't like/ you hate this kind of story, please go.

(Y/N) (L/N) or now known as Ryomen Sukuna's wife. That night was a wedding between you and Sukuna. Your father, who is the only parent you have now, is the figure behind all of this. It all started with him make you engaged to hundred year old demon when you were 12 years old. And now you are 18 years old, which means it's time to get married.

Many important people come, make you have to smile throughout the event. And when it all ends, that night you ended up at your bedroom alone. You reflect on all the things happened.

They think you're happy, they all think you love him. All this time you have to act like you can't live without Sukuna. You have to act like you love him. No, of course you don't love him. You admit he's quite hot, but he's not your type. You don't like mean, psychopathic men. You like gentle and loving men.

Your father always forced you to be obsessive with Sukuna and act like you love him. So you always hurting women who tease him because your father told you to. But you can't do much if Sukuna wants those women. So you are the antagonist.

You're 100% sure he's with one of his mistresses now. As the first wife of Ryomen Sukuna, everyone is sorry for you because he likes to sleep with other women. But you don't mind it, you don't care. But THEY CARE, those who think you love him.

"What should I say to your majesty?"

You hear the waiters talking behind the wall, you start to focus on listening.

"Did lord Sukuna slept with his lover?" Ask someone you recognize as your personal guard now. "Yes. I have to immediately bring this dinner to queen (Y/N)."

Not long after the conversation ended, your bedroom door was opened. "excuse me queen, this is your dinner." He said while put down the tray of your dinner. "Thank you, did he slept with his mistress?" you ask.

The butler raised his head, looking at you with pitying eyes. "I-That's right, Your Highness." he answered nervously. You sighed and told him to leave. Before leaving the room, he look at you with pity once again.

Several months passed, nothing special. He always looks at you disgusted, because he also thinks you're obsessed with him. When you meet Sukuna, he always with his concubines and those concubines always grin at you.

You have to be patient, this is for your family.

That day, he suddenly call you and everyone to the great hall. He was with a woman as usual, but something was different.

"I want to make this women, as my first wife." He said. Everyone was shocked. Because if he wants to make that woman his first wife, it means that she will replace your position. You saw the woman smiling innocently, but you can see her grin.

Because Sukuna wanted to make that woman his first wife, all support for you disappeared and turned to that woman. After your father investigated the woman named Yurika Sato, a illegitimate daughter of a lowly noble who went bankrupt.

The thing that made he attracted to her was because of her innocence. Sukuna really likes innocent women and really hates rude women like you. And just as you'd think, Sukuna will eventually replace you and take Yurika as his first wife.

But you realize this is your chance to escape. You tell your father that you will run away and he agrees. Just in time for the wedding between Sukuna and Yurika, you packed up your things and leave a farewell note. Finally, after everything Sukuna did to you from betrayal, his harsh words, and other acts of cruelty that you received from him, you are finally free.

You and your father still communicating by letter and he bought you a house that is not big but still very nice. Now you live in a village and sell cakes you make by yourself.

Until one day something special happens in your life. At that time you were walking around in the market suddenly you hit bye someone and fell. When you look at that person it was a tall handsome man.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry." He says. Reaching out his hand to help you up. And that's when you were get to know to him. It was strange that an aristocratic family name was used by a commoner like him. You were suspicious, but you were a person who believed easily when he said that he completely unrelated to nobles, he happened to share the same last name.

He work as a doctor in this village.

Months have passed and now you know him better, you start developed romantic feelings for each other.

One day he proposed to you and you happily accepted. It's been a month since you were married and you read a letter from your father explaining that the capital in chaos. There are so many evil curses attacking everything around.

You want to go there, but hampered by your body feeling unwell. You keep feeling nauseous and vomiting, your menstruation hasn't come since a month ago. You finally checked secretly with other doctors in the village. Unfortunately, it took a few days to find out.

Three days have passed and there is still no news about the results. Due to getting another letter from your father and worrying about him, you finally decide to go to the capital that day without your husband knowing.

But you don't realize that will be where it ends. You didn't find your father at your family's residence, and you immediately went to Sukuna's residence. You find your father fighting a curse and behind him is Sukuna. When your father neglects to help the others, sukuna who somehow looks very weak is attacked by a special grade curse.

Time went fast, you ran trying to protect Sukuna's body and in the end the curse attack hit your stomach. You lay down weakly and heard screams of your father, Sukuna, and your husband who somehow were there. You see them approaching you and screaming for someone to heal you. And what surprised you the most was when your husband shouted, "SHE'S PREGNANT!"

It's too late. You was already unconscious and fell asleep forever.

_____

"HAH- HAH- HAH."

You wake up from your sleep, the dream is again in your mind. You quickly looked at the time and realized that you would be late for school. You hurry up and get ready for school. Go downstairs and find your father and sibling eating in the dining room.

You grabbed a loaf and rushed out of the house ignoring your father's screams telling you to come back.

And this is your life now, (Y/N) (L/N) the only one daughter of a rich family which has one of the most successful companies in the world.

On the way to school, you keep imagining the dreams you've had every day since you were 12 years old until now. No matter how much you deny it, You know that it's not just a dream but an incident that happened in the past. Maybe it was your past life.

To be continued

A/N : Hello! This is the end of the prologue, once again English is not my first language, btw your family won't be featured much in the next chapters, so it's okay if you don't have any siblings to imagine in the story. Sorry if there are any wrong words. I feel it's too long for prolog, so I'm sorry but hope you like this story and waiting for the first chapter! Banners credit to @cafekitsune !

[maladaptivedaydreamers]

Pent Up Marriage (Arranged Marriage! Ayato x Reader)

Synopsis: You desperately want to make this marriage work, and after he cheated on you multiple times, you made the numbing decision on how to save it. It works! However, you’re now like a puppet to your husband, growing numb and emotionless. Ayato, on the other hand, seems to enjoy it.

Direct Quote: “Yeah, so…whenever you need it, just…tell me, you know. It doesn’t matter if you’re mad or frustrated or just needy, if you need to exert some kind of stress, just let it out on me.” You say, looking at him in the eye. He stared at you, not knowing what to say, but…kinda turned on. “…"I'll keep that in mind, then. Just be prepared in case I get violent or something. I can be...brutal."

TW: Non-con, Dub-con, Harsh s3x, Abus3, Groping, Somno, Forceful, Manipulation, Cheating

After another stressful day at work, you come home feeling stressed and tired. Your husband, Ayato, seems to be having another “overtime” at his office. You clean up, tidy up the house, do the laundry, cook dinner. Eventually, Ayato comes home, disheveled and upset, as usual.

“Hey.” He uttered, removing his shoes as he entered the apartment.

“You’re home.” You said, walking up to him and placing a small kiss on his cheek. Part of the routine. As you did so, you see a small red mark on his collar, lip stick. “Take your shirt off.” You simply say, unbuttoning his shirt.

Ayato looked confused and irritated as he looked down at you. “What?”

“I said, take your shirt off. You don’t want it to stain, do you? Red pigment is hard to wash off if it dries.” You say, blankly. You’ve gotten used to his cheating ways, and all you wanted to do was adapt to it.

Ayato rolled his eyes before harshly unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to you. “There, whatever.” He uttered before heading to the bathroom to shower.

As you tossed the shirt in the washing machine, you were thinking of a way to stop him from his affairs. After all, if his and your family were to find out that he was looking for another person to fulfill his desires, you’d be in big trouble.

Whatever, you still had some work to do anyway, you should just think about it another time. Focus on your laptop and let your husband do…whatever, I guess?

Soon, it was deep into the night and you decide to head into your shared room. Or you would consider to be just Ayato’s room.

Ayato's room was neat and tidy, with only a few books scattered on the floor with the covers facing up. His bed was made with sharp creases and the sheets were tucked firmly around a big pillow. Atop his desk was a large PC setup, the lights softly illuminated the room, and in the far corner, a door leads to another room in the house, the bathroom.

Ayato was already under the covers, his arms folded underneath his head and his eyes closed tight. He didn't turn to look at you and stayed silent, pretending to be asleep.

You were still restless, as you let out a yawn as you get into your side of the bed, sitting up and leaning against the headrest. You spend a few minutes looking over and reviewing some files. Ayato pretended to stay asleep, but one of his eyes peaked open as if curious about what you were doing. The faint glow of your phone screen caught his attention as he moved his head slowly, peeking just a little bit more. Why would you still be awake?

Soon, you fell asleep. You shouldn’t have forced yourself to stay up so late. That’s what Ayato thought, that you were always killing yourself by working too hard for a job that you cared too much about. Ayato sighed, getting out of bed. He walked over to you, picking up the documents before covering you with a blanket and laying them down on the small table next to your bed.

He leaned down to your ear and whispered, "Good night."

He turned off the lights, then headed back to his room to do the same. The two of you slept soundly at opposite ends of the house, not bothering each other for the rest of the night.

Not for long though…

Suddenly, your phone rang, your stupid boss again. It was 5am! Why would he be-

“Hello?” You answered, why did you answer? Your eyes were squinting from being suddenly woken up, “Sir, I got the files back earlier, I’ll deliver it when I get to work later. …No, I can’t deliver them now, I just got back home…Thank you, goodnight.” You sighed, knowing it will be another heavy day.

Ayato woke up with a start, but kept quiet, listening to your end of the phone call. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you were up. He remained silent for a moment, but eventually spoke up.

"Bad news, huh? Can't sleep?" he asked, looking towards you in the dim light of the room.

You were startled, and also a little guilty. “Shit, did I wake you up?”

"Yes, but don't worry about it." Ayato sat up and put his feet down on the floor. As the two of you sat on opposite sides of the bed, he spoke again.

"Does your boss never let you rest? Or maybe you're just bad at your job." He chuckled slightly, and you noticed a slight annoyance in his tone.

You hum a simple, “Mhmm.” as you rest your head onto your pillow.

"You were out all night and now your boss wants you to go to work? Is this the life of my wife? To be some company's dog you can just go around and do your boss's dirty work?" Ayato smirked and leaned back on his elbows, amused by his own sarcastic comment.

You didn’t know what to say, frankly, your mouth just spoke whatever your mind processed first. “��Oh..have I been neglecting you?”

Ayato let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, seeming a little irritated by your comment.

"We're in this marriage just because our parents wanted us to. We're not in love," he said, speaking bluntly.

"So it really doesn't matter if we neglect each other or not. Besides, this is a loveless marriage, and neither of us loves the other. That means we have no obligations to each other."

You nod. “…Do you feel neglected? Which…makes you cheat?”

He seemed to be annoyed, which caused him to ramble on and on. "Do I feel neglected? Pssh!" He paused for a moment before continuing. "You know what? Not really. I don't rely on you to fulfill my needs."

"And you're right, I have been seeing other people, but don't mistake them for being my lovers!”

You sighed, seeing he wasn’t answering the question. “So…are you? No judgement, really. It’s okay to admit that you’re…you know…needy.”

Ayato's eyes widened for a moment before he stared at you in shock.

"Needy? What are you getting at?" he asked, trying to hide his annoyance. "I guess so.... Yeah, I am. What now?"

“It’s just an observation, you know. You’ve been kissing me on the cheek, waiting for me to get home. It’s unusual for you to do that….” You say.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he scoffed, his voice becoming louder as he raised an eyebrow. "Just because it's an unusual night, does not mean I care for you." He hissed the words with such intensity. "It's just that...I felt like it, that's all. Get that into your head." He sighed again. His annoyance was starting to fade into a sadness, but his attitude remained rough and cold.

“…Thank you for telling me.” You sighed.

You thought for a minute…

He was needy… So he had affairs… Ah…now you know what to do.

“Hey…Ayato.” You sat up, meeting him eye to eye.

Ayato turned to look at you, his eyes still filled with annoyance and disappointment. "What do you want now? What else is there to talk about?”

You thought for a moment before saying, “You can always let your frustration out on me, you know?”

Ayato's face tightened. He looked as if he wanted to strangle you in a moment of rage. "You want me to let my frustration out on you? Just because we're in a loveless marriage, which makes you think that I get the right to abuse you?"

“Eh?” You look at him. “You don’t have to abuse me, you can just…release pent-up frustration.”

Ayato paused for a moment and lowered his voice, staring at you with slight confusion.

"You want me to hit you, or something?" Ayato scoffed, amused yet slightly confused at your suggestion.

“No..something like this.” You muttered before leaning in…

…and kissing him.

Ayato looked surprised as your lips touched his. For a second, he was caught off guard, but his lips soon parted, and he kissed you back passionately.

The taste of you was familiar, as one hand reached down as he kissed you, caressing your cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear; his other hand placed gently against your shoulder. He broke the kiss and sighed softly, looking down at you, his cheeks flushed.

“See? …Just like that.” You said, staring up at him blankly.

Ayato chuckled softly. "You really had me going for a second." He smirked and looked at you, shaking his head.

"Thanks." Ayato seemed to have calmed down, but he still looked tense and stiff, as he sighed again. "You were right. I may hate it, but I am needy. And you're the only person I can go to for it."

“Yeah, so…whenever you need it, just…tell me, you know. It doesn’t matter if you’re mad or frustrated or just needy, if you need to exert some kind of stress, just let it out on me.” You say, looking at him in the eye.

He stared at you, not knowing what to say, but…kinda turned on. “…"I'll keep that in mind, then. Just be prepared in case I get violent or something. I can be...brutal."

The next day, you get home from another hard day of work, working a little later than usual. You opened the door to your house and sighed. It seems that the day was longer than you thought. As you locked the door behind you, you realized that it had become much darker outside. A cold breeze came through your open jacket, and your arms quickly began to get goosebumps.

You quickly turn around. Ayato was standing there, right in behind you, with a deadpan expression on his face. His arms remained crossed the whole time, and you noticed a slight anger in his eyes.

He cleared his throat and stared at you directly, his tone still dry and annoyed. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"You're late." he said bluntly. "I've waited for you for hours, and yet you're...late. Did I give you permission to get home late?

You sighed, “Sorry, they made me do overtime.”

Ayato continued to look at you with a slightly annoyed look on his face. "I hope they gave you some decent compensation for making you work late."

He paused, "You'd better make up for that by coming right here and serving me the second you get home, you hear me?"

He raised his voice as he stepped closer to you.

"Do you understand, dear?" he muttered in a dry tone before looking away.

“Oh, I see what’s happening here.” you muttered before you leaned in and kissed him, placing your hand at the back of his neck.

He soon returned it. He placed a hand on the back of your neck as well, pulling you closer to him and gently guiding your body to the wall as you kissed. After a moment, he pulled back and looked at you, and you noticed his voice was softer than before.

"Good girl."

“You seemed to be frustrated… Bad day at work?” you said, looking up at him.

"You could say that..." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly into a dark smirk.

"So, why don't you go make me feel a little better?" This time, the sinister look was back on his face, and a twinkle of anger and resentment shone in his eyes. "I'm sure you can make up for being late and leaving me all by myself, can't you?"

You knew what you had to do, you leaned in to kiss him again, and he let you. Ayato soon grabbed you by the waist and led you to their bedroom, locking the door after he pushed you into it. Ayato smiled as his lips parted to break the kiss.

"You're good at making a man happy, you know? Keep up the good work." He chuckled darkly, as his gaze lingered on you for a moment.

“I promised you, didn’t I? You can take out your frustrations out on me.” You panted, out of breath from the kiss.

He smirked and nodded. He looked at you in a way that conveyed his expectations. As he stared at you, you could feel his impatience, and his desire for control. "You know what to do after that." Ayato watched you as you took off your blouse. He soon reached out and started caressing your chest, his fingers running across your skin as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

His tone and expression were still serious and cold, but you noticed the slight signs of pleasure written on his face.

"More...I still don't feel satisfied."

You unzipped your bottoms as he continued to watch you. As your skirt fell to the floor, Ayato's eyes widened slightly and he smiled.

"Good girl." All of the anger was gone from his tone and voice, and you could hear a twinkle of desire in his voice. "That's a good girl."

You slowly sat down on the bed, and Ayato took a moment to look you up and down. His voice was now a little softer, and he smiled at you. His eyes were glued to your underwear and black tights, and you could already feel his desire growing. He soon stood up, and looked directly at you. He slowly pulled off his suit jacket, his eyes still focused on you all the while. "Now, then...why don't you get comfortable for me?"

He could only smile as you layed down on the bed. He slowly started walking towards you, taking off his belt and tossing it to the side. His dark gray dress pants were soon following it, as a mischievous look crossed his face. He climbed on top of you, his body covering yours, as you felt him place his hands on your waist. He sighed and slowly got comfortable, leaning down towards you. You could feel him start pulling off your tights, and his eyes became fixed on your skin. Ayato sighed, and a smile crossed his lips as he reached out and placed a soft kiss on your inner thigh. His hand slid back and forth across your skin, and you could feel his breath coming in slow, shallow breaths. He chuckled darkly as he looked up at you, and spoke in a low, dark voice.

“Such…a good girl…”

He began to kiss you again, as he trailed from your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. “Last time we did this…I don’t even remember.” He chuckled, pushing his band underneath you to get to your back. And in one swift motion, unclasped your bra. He tossed it somewhere in the room before continuing to kiss your chest, massaging the other with his hand.

“A-Ah..” You let out from the sudden feeling.

His hands trailed down to the waistband of your panties before pulling them down. “Spread them for me, hm?” He grinned as you did as you were told. “Good girl…good wife.” He said before slowly pressing a finger onto your hole causing you to whimper a little. This only made him chuckle as he pushed a finger in, slowly pumping it. “That’s it.” He said, kissing you to muffle your voice.

One finger became two…then became three as your whimpers turned into moans. “Shhh, calm down, hun.” he laughed. “That should stretch you out enough. Feel good?” He looked down at you, but you were unable to answer, still panting.

“Well, I’ll assume, okay? Now..make me feel good.” He asked, leaning back to show you his bulge. His cheeks were red as he still had that grin on his face. You nodded as you unzipped his pants, causing his dick to spring up. “Miss this?” Ayato chuckled, tapping his dick on your lips. “Go on then.”

You opened your mouth, slowly taking him in your mouth. God, you forgot how big he was. It has been a while, for sure. You take him in slowly, finally taking him in fully.

“Yes~ So…good. This is nice.” he said, letting out a sigh. You slowly bopped your head back and forth as he let out a few satisfied moans. As you kept going, you suddenly felt his hands push your head deeper.

“Mmhph?!” You gagged, but it was no use as he continued to thrust into your mouth.

He moaned happily, “Ah, shit~ That’s right~ I forgot how good your fucking throat is.” he moaned.

You felt him coming close as you felt him twitch inside your mouth. He pulled out, panting. “That’s…that’s a good girl.” He said, slapping you on the cheek softly as you coughed and breathed for air. He pushed you onto the bed, pulling you into another aggressive kiss and he trailed his hands on your hips. Ayato pushed himself in the middle of your legs and without hesitation, starting aligning his dick to your hole.

“Ah, shit!” he hissed as he had troubles pushing his tip inside you. He let out a few cursed laughs before saying, “You know, I really thought you were cheating on me too, just to get back at me. Ah!~ But…you’re so tight…fuck! It’s…a shame you’re not using this.” he mocked you, as he pushed in deeper.

“A-Ah! W-Wait!” You said, gripping his shoulders as he pushed deeper in you, your back arched as a few more inches entered you.

He bottoms out on you as he let out a moan. “Ah!~” he grinned in satisfaction, his dick resting inside your tight pussy. “Shit, you’re good.” he uttered as he started thrusting in and out of you, not giving you time to adjust.

“Fuck, you’re good, such a good wife.” He moaned, spreading your legs apart even further. He continued pounding into you, your whimpers turning into teary moans as he kept going. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t cry now. If it makes you feel better…you feel better than those bitches I cheat on you with. Hm? Feel better?” He sounded like he was mocking you, insulting you or something. But either way, you continued to moan as your legs went limp. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder, thrusting in deeper into your tight cunt.

Your body felt hot as you trembled underneath him. You were wondering whether or not this was the right decision or not. A mixture of pleasure and pain ran across your body, but soon, a knot was filling your stomach. God, it’s been ages since you last felt something like this. Moan after moan after moan, you couldn’t stop as your hands gripped the sheets. You couldn’t even make out words when the knot in your stomach unwinded, releasing an orgasm which made you arch your back and cried out.

“Oooh~ Shit, was that an orgasm? You’re so…weak..! It’s been what? 5 minutes? Feels so good, huh? Wanna tell your husband how good he is? Hm?” He laughed as he continued to pound into you.

He watched your breasts bounce as he pushed his cock in and out of you like an animal in heat, he wasn’t stopping. “Damnit.” He uttered out as the grip on your leg and waist tightened, he was getting close too. …And so were you.

“Fuck, fuck.” He uttered, his fingers digging into your skin. He leaned down as he sucked on your neck, leaving a few marks. His lips trailed back onto yours as your tongues danced.

You let out a cry of pleasure as another coil unraveled inside you. And this… this pushed him to the edge as he thrusted one final and harsh thrust, painting your insides white. “Ah, fuck!” He growled, spasming a few thrusts to ensure he’s in you.

You pant, seeing your surroundings close in on you as you feel exhausted. Your limbs go limp and your chest rise and fall.

Ayato looks down at you blankly…staring at you as you’re covered in sweat. Your legs drop and fall flat. But after a few seconds, he puts them back on his shoulder. “No, no, no… we’re not done. No.” He shakes his head. He no longer had a grin on his face.

It was just filled with cold-hearted desire.

And after 4 rounds, he pulled out of you, his cum bursting out as soon as he did, dribbling on the sheets.

Ayato was breathing heavily, his heavy breaths coming and going in fast, shallow breaths. He took a moment to catch his breath, smiling as he looked down at you.

You were laid down on his bed, tired and exhausted from what had just happened, and you noticed Ayato's eyes staring down at you in satisfaction.

"You...didn't disappoint," He smirked.

"I hope you'll be more ready next time." He paused for a moment as he rolled his shoulders. "Now, why don't you get some sleep?"

You mumbled a small “Okay…” as your eyes were already shutting.

Ayato's eyes lingered on you for a moment, before he got up and went into the bathroom. After a few minutes, he came out, cleaned and dressed up. He slowly walked closer to you, and sat on the side of the bed.

He stared at you for a moment, and smiled softly.

"You're really are tired. You were a good girl tonight, you know." He sighed as he leaned over you, and kissed your forehead. "Try to get some rest, alright?"

This continued on and on and on and on, no matter if it was on your way to work or when you’ve just come back. It was like routine already. If you noticed Ayato was cranky, you’d be making out in no less than a few seconds.

One day, Ayato returned at 10pm, looking tired as he dropped his briefcase on the floor. He was still dressed in his work clothes, and the look of disdain on his face had grown even stronger.

He was exhausted and tired, and the light in his eyes was almost gone. He sighed quietly as he walked to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets for a drink. He looked over at you, and his lip curled up in contempt.

"What do you want? I'm not in the mood to talk." His tone was cold and dismissive.

“You okay?” you ask from the living room.

Ayato turned around and stared at you, his gaze still filled with disdain.

"I'm fine. I just had a fantastic day at work." He took out a bottle of vodka and opened it, pouring himself a cup. He sighed as he poured himself a glass, and then drank the entire glass in one go.

"Why do you care, anyway?" He turned around and leaned against the counter, his tone growing even more cold. "Do you really care about how I feel?"

You pause, thinking of the right thing to say. “…Depends if you want me to care.”

"I'm your husband."

His tone was stern and slightly aggressive, and he soon set his empty glass aside.

"You should always care about how I feel. After all, you're my wife." He sighed, and a hint of anger could be sensed in his voice. "If you're not going to care, then maybe you should just leave."

“…You okay? Seriously, you can tell me.” You look over at him, lightly concerned.

"I'm fine..." A sigh of disappointment escaped his lips as he reached out for the bottle of vodka and refilled the cup.

"Just let me drink in peace. I don't want to talk about it." His tone was still stern and serious, as it had been in the morning. He had just had an awful day, and he wanted to spend the rest of the day drinking to make himself feel better. He was just hoping that you wouldn't keep pestering him as he continued drinking his vodka in silence.

You let out a sigh before walking up to him, taking the cup away. “That’s enough.”

"Hey! Give it back to me." You could see the light of anger in his eyes as he looked down at you, his lip curling up in a snarl as he glared at you. "I said, give it back to me." He glared down at you, as he reached a hand out and started trying to grab the cup from you.

You sigh as he leans in to take the cup back, so you lean in close…kissing him.

When you leaned in to kiss him, the light of anger in his eyes changed to a light of passion.

He couldn't help but let out a moan as his lips met yours, and he pressed himself against you. He pulled his hand back from trying to grab the drink.

"Good girl."

He pulled away from the kiss and smiled softly, as he brushed a strand of your hair aside.

Ayato smirked at you, as you could see the light of amusement in his eyes once more.

"Good girl. This is what I've been waiting for all day," he chuckled.

As he spoke, he went in for another kiss, much deeper than the first one and with far more passion.

Do you see what I mean? This was everyday with him. And it was…all your fault. You suggested this, and he just took the chance. It didn’t matter where either. The kitchen, the couch, the bathroom, the car. You would always comply. Even if you said…

“Ayato, not today…”

“Ayato, I’m tired…can we not do it today?”

“Ayato…please don’t?”

It would always end in you and him fucking ‘til his heart’s content.

But you were successful though, in making him NOT cheat. He always came home early, looking for you instead of some other girl. That’s a good thing…right?

But don’t worry! He would reward you. Every time you two are done, he would lay beside you, propping himself using his elbow and whisper…

“What would you like for your reward? Anything in the world…”

“You want a diamond necklace?”

“Does my good girl want a new car? New shoes?”

“I’ll get you whatever you want.”

That’s a good thing, right? He’s…being nice? He’s spoiling you, like a husband would.

But deep down, you were getting tired. Not of him, but of…this. Not mentally, but physically. Because soon…

…You can’t sleep.

Why can’t you sleep? You close your eyes and see nothing, you can’t feel anything. You wanna sleep. But you can’t. Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep?

One day, you come home from work, exhausted and a little emotional, cause your boss is a bitch. Ayato was on the sofa in the living room, reading another newspaper. He looked up as you came through the door.

"Are you home early today, my love?" He smiled, still showing no true warmth or affection in his tone. “Is something the matter? You seem quite tired..."

He chuckled, before speaking again. "Ah, who am I kidding? You always seem tired...You just can't get enough sleep, can you?"

You stay silent for a moment before walking up to him…

And hugging him?

"Huh?" He was shocked by the sudden hug. "Is something the matter? Why did you hug me so suddenly?" His voice was calm, but there was still an air of resentment and malice. He was clearly not in the mood to care about you. He sighed, but continued to show an indifferent or annoyed look.

"I mean, it's a good surprise I guess, but it's not normal for you to show affection, so I'm a little surprised..."

“Please…be quiet. I just…need someone right now.” You uttered, as you stared into the floor.

"Hmph..Fine..." His voice was quiet, but it still carried a dark undertone to it that made it obvious he wasn't happy.

He sighed, before looking down at you and speaking once more. "Just so you know, it's not like I'm enjoying this. I'm just doing it because you've had a rough day, that's all. Do not get this mistaken for affection, Y/N."

He looked at you, his expression remaining cold and indifferent. "Is that clear?" In which you simply replied with a nod.

"Well, at least you understand..." He put his arms around you, and rested his head on yours. Despite the tone of his voice and the expressions he made, you could tell he was trying his best to be comforting...although he didn't seem to have much experience with this.

After a stressful day, a few tears dripped off your eyes as you rested against him. He noticed you crying, and sighed.

"Hm...are you okay?" His voice didn't sound like it normally did, but instead of being cold or sarcastic, it was a bit warmer than usual. "You seem a bit upset..."

He paused, before speaking again as he pulled your chin up a little. "My goodness, you look so miserable...You've really had a bad day, haven't you?"

You straightened yourself up, brushing off the tears before standing up. “I’ll head to bed now…goodnight.”

“Hey- Wha-“ He looked confused as he watched you walk to your shared room.

"Alright, then..." His voice was a lot softer than it normally was, and he gave you a small smile. "Goodnight, my love." He looked down a little, and you could see a hint of affection and kindness in his eyes now, but just for a moment.

Then it was gone, and he was once again a cold, reserved man, as he always had been.

So…what were you doing in your room? Why were you feeling so…weird? Like some sort of embarrassment and guilt?

…Is it because you bought those sleeping pills? The one you knew would slowly turn you into a drug-filled monster? Is it the way you’re popping 3 pills all at once? …Is that it? The pills kicked in fairly quickly, and you slowly started to fall asleep. It wasn't long before you became unconscious, feeling the effects of the sleeping pills. If you kept taking them at the same rate, you would soon be addicted to the pills, and it wouldn't be long before you couldn't sleep without them...

Soon, Ayato went inside the room, also wanting to sleep. He sees you on the bed, it was a little weird to see you sleeping so early since for the past few weeks, you’d struggle to fall asleep.

He shrugged, and sat down on his side of the bed. Looking over at you, he noticed that you was sleeping very deeply - more deeply than normal, and it wasn't hard to tell why.

He rolled over, got comfy, and lied down. He closed his eyes, and soon enough, he also fell into a deep sleep.

The same routine of fucking and swallowing sleeping pills made you different. Too different. You turned emotionless and cold. You were…not Y/N anymore.

One day, after another stuffy fucking, you both were laying in bed. Ayato sighed. "Well, it's been a long day, hasn't it? I need sleep. I don't suppose we should stay up too long tonight." His voice sounded a bit softer than before.

"Goodnight...my dear wife..." He put one of his arms around you, and hugged you tightly.

"I may not show it much, but I do care about you. You know that, don't you?" He paused, waiting for a response.

You stared into the ceiling, exhausted but restless. “…Sure.”

"Sure" He scoffed, clearly not buying it at all. His voice was colder than ever, and it was hard to recognize this as the same person who had just comforted you. "Sure."

He hugged you tightly, and lay his head down on the pillow. He took the blanket, and covered up both of you, before going to sleep once more. You could feel that he had grown colder and more distant than ever before - like he hadn't wanted you near him at all. He had grown colder and more aloof than ever before.

Ayato was sleeping deeply right beside you. He seemed to be peaceful, but despite what he said earlier, it was hard to tell whether he truly cared about you. He laid there next to you, breathing quietly, completely asleep.

Was he telling the truth, or was he lying?

Did he care about you, or did he hate having you near him?

You couldn't tell anymore at this point. And you didn’t care. You needed something else.

Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills.

Shit, you needed those pills.

You harshly stood up from the bed, not caring if you woke him up or not. You walk to the bedside table, where you took out the bottle of sleeping pills.

"What are you doing?"

Ayato seemed to notice you standing up, and he sat up in the bed. With a groan, he looked up at the clock, before looking back at you.

"Is something the matter, wife?"

He still wasn't showing any signs of affection, but his voice was a little softer now, and his attitude was a little less antagonistic.

“Nothing.” you said, holding the bottle behind you.

"Nothing?" Ayato frowned, and sat up in the bed fully. He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow. He was still wondering what you were doing, looking at you with a slight hint of suspicion.

"Sure," he said with a cold voice, and you could see a smirk on his face now. "You're lying about something. Tell me what the deal is." His tone became cold once more, and you could see that he was beginning to get annoyed.

“Show me the bottle.”

You froze. “What bottle?”

"What bottle?" He narrowed his eyes again, glaring at you. You could feel his anger and irritation building up. He had always been calm and cold, but this was the first time you had seen him genuinely angry. Even before, when he yelled at you, he still sounded calm and unemotional.

"Are you lying to me now? That bottle that you're clearly trying to hide behind your back...show it to me.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You shook your head.

"It isn't a big deal?" He frowned, and sounded a little pissed off.

"Well then, there isn't any reason not to show me, is there? He narrowed his eyes again.

"Show. Me. The. Bottle."

You realized that he wasn't really kidding anymore. If you still didn't show him, he might get even more pissed off. He had always been cold and unemotional, but now, you could really sense his anger.

"Are you seriously not going to show me?"

He stood up, and walked toward you as he reached out, and yanked the bottle from your hands.

"Was that so hard?

He looked at the bottle, and then gave you another angry look.

"I thought it wasn't a big deal? Since when have you been taking sleeping pills, Y/N?!”

“…3 months.”

He scoffed, angry and in disbelief. “How many? How many fucking pills do you take a day?”

You look up at him, before you roll your eyes. “3 before but now I take double.”

"You've been taking double the amount of pills lately?! Why are you doubling the amount?” He gripped the bottle angrily.

Why was he so upset anyway?

"Let me guess… 3pills wasn't enough, eh? And did you ever think that taking that many pills might not be beneficial in the long term?" He raised an eyebrow, and he was still watching you intently.

"I thought there wasn't any need for such drastic measures... But then again, you always enjoyed being dramatic when it came to things like these…”

“Stop it, it’s not like I’ll be addicted to them.” You say, scratching your head in irritation. “I can’t sleep, I need them.”

"Is that really the only reason why?" He sighed loudly, and then smiled darkly.

"You already know what I suspect. The real reason is because you enjoy that little feeling of high that those pills give you, isn't it? You love that little rush of euphoria.”

You laughed, having had enough of his bullshit. “I wish I could get high off of them. I wish I could feel a little bit happier taking them. But noooooo! I just fucking need them so I can have some shut eye before getting back to work!” You had snapped, just wanting to take the pills.

You snatch back the bottle, much to the dismay of Ayato. "Give. The bottle. Back." He said, reaching his hand out.

You really should have known better. You felt a harsh smack to your face. Your hand grasped your now red cheek. “What the hell, Ayato?!” You yelled.

"You deserved that. Don't think you could get away with harming yourself, while also refusing to let me help.”

His hands were shaking with rage. "Give me the pills."

Instead, you ripped the bottle open, popping a few pills in your mouth. You didn’t care anymore… You wanted sleep.

“Y/N! What the fuck!” He yelled, taking the bottle from you and throwing it on the floor. But it was too late, the pills were so strong that you were already seeing the world as a blur.

"You really don't care, do you? About yourself and your well being?" He sighed, and then gave up talking to you. He looked at you with the same angry and frustrated look, before he looked you up and down. "And of course you'd already be starting to feel the effects of that many pills so quickly."

Now, he was just talking to the oblivion. You plopped yourself in bed as you stared at the ceiling. "You really don't care, do you?"

He stared at you in annoyance. "If you died right now, then I doubt you'd even be sad...” He stopped, before standing next to you and looking at you with a more angry expression.

"Why do you just give up on yourself like that...just...why?"

“Because …I’m stupid…and pathetic.” You muttered, laying down on the bed as your eyesight turned foggy.

"No you're not. And I hate it when you say that about yourself." He was still looking at you as he sat down beside you.

"You know what it's called when you keep self-destructive thoughts like that? Self loathing, I do believe...and it's sad to see that you've come to this point. To think that you've given up like this..."

He was getting sick of saying the same things, anyways.

"You're hopeless...that's why I hate this side of you. And it's why I'm so mad at you all the time. I'm tired of your self-destructive behavior, and I'm also tired of this endless cycle that we're in. But I don't want to give up on you because I love you dearly... But I don’t wanna love a bitch who doesn’t even love herself.”

He sighed. "That's what makes this so hard..."

“Heh, maybe I am getting a high from those pills. I can hear you say bullshit.” you uttered, wondering if you were hearing things right.

"Ha...ha...you're not funny.”

He sounded annoyed. He really wanted you to take this more seriously. He didn't know what to do with you anymore...

That was when Ayato suddenly remembered something. Something that he could potentially use to convince you to lay off the sleeping pills.

"Or...there's another solution that we could use, if you really think that you need those sleeping pills to survive the night..."

You looked over at him for a moment…oh wait…oooohhh that’s what he meant. “Oh god, not this again, are you pent up or something?” You groaned.

When he heard that, he didn't know whether to feel amused or annoyed.

"You really think that I'm that desperate..."

He sighed, and sighed again. "I'm trying to help you here, Y/N.”

He looked at you, seemingly amused now - but he wasn't going to give up that easily.

"I guess you want to make this hard, don't you? ...and I thought you're the obedient wife who always follows her husband's orders..."

“I’m about to fall asleep so…if you wanna do *it* with your *sleeping* wife, then be my guest.” You scoffed.

Your eyes fluttered, and then they closed. You were completely unconscious now. Ayato watched you for a moment, and he seemed happy.

His lips curved up into a smile, and he gave you a sly wink.

"I'll make sure to enjoy this." He grinned…

He loomed over your sleeping body as his thoughts began to run wild. His fingers were fidgeting as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t hesitate but pull off of you.

The sight of you so vulnerable really turned him on. He leaned down, kissing and marking your neck with dark hickeys as he grinded his already hardening bulge on you. Why was he liking this? Doesn’t matter, he was too deep into it already.

He continued to grind into you, he didn’t need to pin you down but he still did, pushing your hands into the bed.

His desires soon took over him, ripping up your panties to expose your cunt. He was hungry, more than ever. He knew there was no way he you were going to wake up anyway, he could do anything.

As he continued kissing down your neck to your chest, suckling on one of your breasts, his hand were now wandering. His cock ached in against the fabric of his pants as he stroked his finger in your folds. Oh…? Y/N…you’re wet. This seemed to entice him, as he kissed lower and lower, until he reached…ah, there.

He licked his lips as his breath approached your pussy, he licked a stripe before coming down. Kissing, sucking, licking in between your folds. He was getting greedy and hungry for you. He pulled you by the legs as he continued to eat you out, resting your thighs on his shoulder. Once he was satisfied, he pulled away from you, a thread of saliva still connecting you before he licked his lips, dropping your legs back onto the bed.

Fuck, why was this turning him on so bad?

He was adoring the sight of you, running his hands all over your body. He pulled down his sweats as his cock sprung out, already leaking with precum. He used his knees to spread your legs open, excited and full of desire. Ayato continued to stare at your face as he spread your legs open with his knees, stroking his cock as he did so. He positioned himself perfectly before burying himself completely inside of you, letting out a moan at how tight you were. He stayed motionless first, giving you a few slaps on the face to make sure you were still asleep.

His pace started off slow, trying to indulge in the power he was feeling. But it was soon replaced by desire as he quickened his pace, the sheets rustling and the bed creaking.

“Ah, fuck, so good. Such a fucking bitch.” He moaned out, pushing your legs to your chest.

“Shit, shit, ah!~ Yes!~” His eyes rolling back in pleasure as he took advantage of your sleeping body. He should be guilty…but he wasn’t. He felt a knot forming on his abdomen as he continued to plow into you.

“Y/N..Oh, fuck, Y/N!~” He moaned out as he came undone inside of you, his hips jerking back and forth.

He took a few breaths, trying to breath in some air, but he soon flipped you over, slapping your ass even though he knew, he wasn’t gonna get a reaction from you.

He pushed your head onto the pillow as he helped prop you on your knees, positioning himself again to push into you.

“Agh…!~ Fuck!” He groaned in pleasure as he pushed his entire cock into you again. He begins to speed up, not wasting anytime as he pounded into you, holding you by your hips. “Mhmm, so good. You wanted this…you wanted this…”

He bucks his hips into you as he cums once again, his essence spilling out of you as a white ring forms around the base of his cock.

As he pulls out, your cunt dribbles out his seed, which entices him even more.

He feels himself getting hard again as he gets ready for another round.

Wow…Ayato..

You’re a fucking monster…

A few rounds later, the day was already coming closer to dawn, and he seemed completely exhausted. He was still lying on top of you, and he seemed to be completely exhausted after what he had done with you.

He gave you a sad smile, before leaning in and kissing you on the lips. It was a kiss that lasted for a long time...

...He really was a monster.

He picked up the bottle of sleeping pills from the floor and placed them on your bedside table, but then he leaned down again. He kissed you again, and then he whispered into your ears...

"Take better care of yourself, okay Y/N? He smiled, before resting his head against your chest and giving your neck a kiss.

"I'd hate to see you feeling so poorly." He closed his eyes, and he began to fall asleep...

When your alarm rang, you woke up to discover yourself fully naked. “…He really fucking did it.” you laughed.

"You really are a heavy sleeper..." Ayato yawned as he sat up. "Did you enjoy it?"

“Did you?” you ask, looking over at him, still surprised he actually did such a thing.

"Of course I enjoyed it, Y/N." He was grinning sadistically now.

"And if it gets you to stop taking those pills, then I'll do what I have to."

You were in disbelief, unsure on what to say. “So every time I take sleeping pills, you’ll just…do it?”

"Mhm. Every. Single. Time.” He was actually happy with that.

"Because I'm not letting you hurt yourself like this. You want to be like an addict? Then I'm just going to force you to be happy - even if it means going to those lengths myself."

You let out a few laughs, “…Did you like taking me while I was asleep?”

"Of course I did," He gave you a sly, almost creepy smile. "Did you like what I did to you?" His voice was definitely dripping with sarcasm, and he seemed rather amused by your question. He didn't even bother hiding that.

“I consented to it…but I didn’t expect you to do it, actually.”

"...Consent, huh?" That was really the only thing that Ayato cared about here. He needed to know that you were okay with it - otherwise, he couldn't enjoy it nearly as much. But it was enough for him...

"If I'm being honest?" He laughed at his own statement. "I'm having fun with this, to be honest. I'd do this again and again."

You couldn't help but be a little creeped out with what he was saying.

"And again..."

"...and again..."

Your hands trembled a little, but it soon calmed as you realized…what’s the point?

"Why? What makes it so enjoyable..?” You asked. Ayato paused for a moment, and he leaned closer to you.

"Because I can do what I want with you, when I want to, however I want to. And…”

“…God, it just fucking turns me on, Y/N.”

"I love it." He was speaking honestly. He was smiling darkly and he had a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He was enjoying himself. “It's like you're a piece of property, and I can do whatever I want with it."

“Ayato…do you love me?”

What? Y/N, don’t ask that! What the hell are you doing?

His face turned cold and cruel in an instant.

"Love...you? Don't be ridiculous. What do you even know about love?” Suddenly, all of his friendliness disappeared. That same dark look was in his eyes, and he looked dangerous for a moment.

"You're not capable of loving anyone. All you can do is be selfish."

His words hit you all at once, and it hurt. Why did you have to ask that?

“So I’m…incapable of loving…is that it?” You stammered, looking up at him.

“Hm…yeah.” He let that set in for a moment, before he smiled.

"That's because you're too selfish to care for anyone…”

"Love means that you care for other people. Well, how can you do that when you hate yourself? You can’t even look at yourself without wanting to kill whatever you see in the mirror."

“So tell me, Y/N…”

"...why would I ever love you?"

His stare was dark, and you got the implication now - you weren't worthy of being loved by him. He said the words in a cold tone, and it felt like his eyes were full of evil as he stared at you.

"What have you ever done that's worthy of someone loving you?"

The words cut whatever was left of your fragile, unfeeling heart. “You’re not answering my question…”

He stared at you for a moment then. "...Why do you think you're entitled to an answer?"

He couldn't believe it. Did you just ask him if he loves you?! As if he'd ever love someone like you? As if he was obligated to answer such a question? You were so selfish and delusional. No wonder you were getting the treatment that you were.

You laughed, almost going crazy. Was it the pills? Yeah…yeah, it was the pills.

“No, you need to answer… I want to know. Because…I want to know whether or not it’s worth it to let you take advantage of me. To keep being your pleasure doll.” You stared up at him, almost desperate.

"…Of course I don't love you, dear wife." His voice sounded full of hatred as he said that. But, then again, it did sound like he almost enjoyed speaking those words.

"There. You've got your answer."

You’re stupid, Y/N. You could’ve just continued acting clueless. You shouldn’t have sought for an answer. Now you’re hurt. And it was all your fault…

“…Was it good? Did you feel such good pleasure?” You asked, talking about him taking you while you were asleep.

"Yes. It was fucking great." It was obvious that he was trying to taunt you.

"Did you enjoy it too?"

He wanted to hear you say the words.

"Be honest, dear wife. Tell me, now."

A scoff left your lips as you reached for the bottle, taking a few pills in your mouth. “Doesn’t matter.” you chuckled.

Ayato froze…Y/N, what are you doing? Ayato didn’t know what do you but pull on your shoulder. “What the..fuck? What do you think you’re doing?” He stammers, gripping your shoulder.

But he was only met with a kiss as your body was starting to feel the effects of the 6 pills you decided to take. There was no response initially, as he was left frozen at your behavior. He did not expect this kind of response at all. He had no idea what to do to make you stop.

That had caught him completely off guard, to be honest.

His eyes widened, as he realized what the pills had done to you.

"Oh...no..."

You only smiled. “I’ll…keep doing this…if you like it…”

Why is your smile so genuine? What are you doing?

"No...don't...you...dare... You, you're ...making me like it...” He whispered to himself, looking down at you. You were starting to wobble from drowsiness as he took you in his arms.

"Y/N, you're dangerous. I don’t think you know just how dangerous you are..."

There was a sudden sharpness in his voice. He was angry now, wasn't he?

"Please..." He was begging you, for a moment. "...stop taking those pills..."

You reach out to caress his cheek. “…You enjoy it..don’t you? …I want to make you happy…”

There was no denying it - he did enjoy it. He didn’t want to ever admit that to you anymore. "I-I did enjoy it...but..." He trailed off "But I don't know if it's good for you..."

"I...I should stop you..."

It was obvious he was reluctant to do so.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel… Just..do whatever. If all you want is my body…then…so be it…” You said, your eyes fighting off the sleep.

Ayato's cold eyes opened in shock, hearing what you said to him.

"Do whatever...if all I want is your body?"

He looked confused for a moment. Was that how you viewed him? As someone who only viewed you as a mere pleasure tool? There was so much more to you than that...to him...to everyone.

Ayato was upset to hear that come out of your mouth.

You laughed softly. “I love you, Ayato… and if I have to do this for you to stay…I will…” You sighed, slowly drifting to sleep.

"...don't do this for me." Ayato was shocked. Did you mean what you said? Those words hurt him greatly more than anything else she had said.

"You don't need to do anything to please me, you…bitch.” He tried putting on a brave and confident front, as he spoke in his usual calm and confident voice. "You're worth so much more than that." He was trying to reassure you, but there was a small break in his voice when he said those words. “What..the fuck, Y/N?”

Your body lays limply on his arms as you sleep, there was nothing he could do anymore.

"Oh, fuck..." Ayato's face was full of worry and sadness, as he watched you lying there. It was obvious that your words hurt him greatly, and he couldn't help but shake a little. Could he really let you do something like that to yourself? But his heart broke, as his fears about you becoming a mere tool were coming true.

Would he ever be able to get over this?

He didn't know what to do...

The next day, you woke up like nothing happened. You rushed to the door, putting on your shoes for work. Ayato was left stunned, as he watched you leave. You seemed to be just going about your day, as if nothing had happened. You didn't say anything about the conversation yesterday...you didn't say anything about taking the pills either.

It was as if you didn't remember anything that had happened.

"This is a side of you that I haven't seen before..."

"You really are dangerous...what am I going to do about this...?"

You get home at around 2am. It was a long day at work, and you had come home pretty late. Ayato was in the living room, sitting on the couch and reading a book.

He looked up when you came home, and his eyebrows rose into surprise.

"You're pretty late tonight."

He watched you put your coat and other belongings away, before he looked back down at his book and continued reading.

“Yeah, we had a bit of a celebration after the presentation.” You say. “I’m just gonna fix up the laundry then go to bed.” Your words were blank and plain as you walk to the laundry room.

"Ah." He nodded a little bit, seemingly a little disappointed.

He was hoping that you'd be more forthcoming, so he could talk to you about all of this... You were really frustrating him...and you weren't making it easy to figure out. At all. Suddenly, as if his frustrations reached their final point, Ayato snapped.

"Fine. That's okay. Just do your laundry, Y/N.” He had a mocking smile on his face as he said that. Geez, what’s up with him?

You look out from the laundry room and give him a look. “You okay?”

"Perfectly fine." He had a sinister expression on his face, as he was clearly lying to you. It was obvious that he wasn't fine. His voice was dripping with malice. "I'm not fine. Not at all. And you know why." His tone was dark. He sounded as if he was on the verge of exploding as his eyes glowed in rage.

“…Okay then. Should’ve just said so.” You uttered, walking up to him before pressing your lips on his.

Like usual. Like routine. Like always.

His eyes widened in shock, as if you were crazy. He had no words, as he was completely stunned by this. He didn't move a muscle afterwards, as he just stared at you. He couldn't believe you just did that, as if you still cared about him.

The fact that he didn't immediately kiss you back should tell you, though, how he felt at the moment. He was…confused.

You pull away, noticing how absent he was. “What? Am I doing something wrong? Is this not relieving your stress anymore? Should I take it up a notch?” You were genuinely confused, why was he acting like this?

He had no words, as he was simply trying to wrap his head around what you were saying. "Take it up a notch? How much more do you want than kissing...than..."

He trailed off and didn't continue the sentence. He looked shocked, clearly not expecting the direction of the conversation to take a turn like this.

“Are you not used to it by now? Whenever you’re feeling frustrated, you’d always want this.”

"Used to it? I...you..." He was at a complete loss for words this time. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "You just...just don't care at all, do you?" He chuckled, before stopping again and looking at you seriously.

“Huh? We made an agreement? That you’d release your pent-up frustration on me?” You were lost at this point, wondering if he had bumped his head or something.

He paused for a moment, as he recalled the agreement that he had made with you. You're right...you're right...he had agreed to it...

"I...still...it feels wrong..." He trailed off again, as he wasn't really sure how to react to what you were saying.

You laughed a little, “You’re saying that now? After you and I have been doing it for months now?”

He was silent for a moment, as if he didn't want to admit it.

He was a little ashamed, in fact. He seemed embarrassed that what you had said was true. Eventually, he spoke again.

"...I guess you're right. We've been doing it for months already. I guess it's a little too late to back out of it now."

He paused again for a moment, before he continued speaking.

"...Well...in that case..."

He reached out towards you, before he softly kissed you, which you accepted.

He kept kissing you, before slowly pulling away.

His voice was softer now. There...I, uh, guess I released my frustration out...heh..." He laughed a little bit, trying to lighten the mood. But he didn't want any more, it just felt…weird.

You felt…weird too. Were you doing something wrong? Did he not like you anymore? “What’s wrong? Am I doing something wrong? You’re not usually this…hesitant.”

"No. You're not doing anything wrong."

He paused again, as he didn't want to say it.

He took a moment to think of how he would say this next. Then, he continued speaking.

"I'm just...I just feel like I'm taking advantage of you, in a way." He sighed. "It's not normal, at all. No one would allow themselves to be treated like this in a marriage. But...you still love me...despite all that..."

“…who cares? I allowed you to, anyway.” You say.

"And you would let me...let me do that to you every time I'm feeling frustrated? I...but..."

"Why would you let me do that to you Ayato was actually a little shocked that this wasn't bothering you, since it was obviously a concern for him. "What do you get out of it?"

You didn’t hesitate, you knew your answer. “I get to spend time with you.”

Hearing you say that, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He was taking advantage of you, after all, and yet...you would still care for him... He stared at you, as his feelings were mixed.

"I...so you don't care that you're being used like this...? That you're treated like..." He trailed off again, as he remembered the agreement.

"…a tool?"

You only nodded as you let out a blank but genuine “Sure.”

Ayato was in disbelief. He couldn't understand why you would allow him to treat you like this, or why it didn't bother you. "What is going on in your head?" He couldn't understand it at all. “...why don't you care that you're being used like this?" He spoke in a quiet voice, as he looked at you with a look of confusion and worry on his face.

You smile as you say, “…Because I love you.“

He paused for a moment, as he thought about it, before he finally responded, with a soft nod. "Right. You're right..." He sighed, seeming a little worried.

"I'll keep doing this, then. I'll keep taking advantage of you without any regrets...because...you seem to be okay with it..." He says, hesitantly.

“You okay?” Your head tilts in confusion.

"I'm fine. I'm just...still a little in disbelief about this." He looked at you with some concern as he lets out a chuckle. “H-How do you not find this weird...or wrong...or off-putting?"

He paused again for a moment, before he continued speaking. "I...I can't understand why you're okay with this. It's as if you're a masochist...and no one's supposed to be that much of a masochist..."

You shrug, answering honestly. It was about time he found out anyway.

“I used to find it weird…had a few regrets. But..I just didn’t want you to go back to your affairs…if this is what will make you stay…then so be it. I don’t care how rough you get, I don’t care how much you hate me. I just want you to stay. Even if this was just an arranged marriage. “

His heart broke at hearing those words, as he finally understood where you were coming from.

"What the fuck, Y/N..." Tears formed in his eyes, as his voice let out a shaky chuckle.

"I'm so sorry..." He didn't bother hiding his emotions anymore, as tears began to fall from his eyes.

“Wah! Why’re you crying?! Are you okay?” You were surprised, you hold him by the shoulder as you look up at him, trying to meet his gaze.

“You’re the one who should be crying!” He shouted. "You're the one who's been mistreated this whole time...and I don't see any tears coming from you..."

He sighed, trying to dry his tears away.

"Why are you okay with this..." He spoke in a soft voice, as he looked at you with a look of concern. He still felt guilty, of course.

You rubbed his back, still confused about what was happening. “Because I love you, why should I cry?”

He was stunned. He was confused at your words. You...you didn't mind being used and mistreated by him...

"Why...? You deserve better than that. Than me..." He trailed off, as he looked down, not wanting to meet your eye.

“…I don’t deserve better.” You utter.

“You do!” Ayato yelled. “I’m a fucking asshole! I took advantage of you! I did shitty things! And here you are, clinging to me, when you deserve so much better!”

“Then be better, Ayato!” You yelled back.

He looked at you in surprise, before he let out a nervous chuckle.

"Be better? How do you think I should do that?"

He shook his head.

"I don't think I could ever be better...not after all the terrible things I've done to you..." Tears were starting to fall from his eyes again.

"...I don't deserve you..."

You shook him by the shoulders, “Then do better to deserve me! I want no one else but you!”

He freezes as he looked into your eyes, shocked. There was only complete silence, before he softly kisses you.

You didn’t know how to feel at that point, but you could sense that…he was genuine for once.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes still streaming with tears as he looked at you. “I... I'll try my best to be a better man...for your sake..." He was crying, as he wiped his eyes clean. He couldn't believe what was going on.

"I'll try my best to become deserving of you...and your love..."

You sighed, hugging him, your my head on his chest. “Don’t cry.”

He sniffed, before wiping his tears once more. He tried to calm himself down, before finally hugging you back.

"I'm so sorry..." He said, as he nuzzled his head into you. "I'm so sorry that you still love me...after all of that..."

“Shhh, it’s okay..it’s okay…” you utter, rubbing his back.

He sniffled, as he nuzzled your head even further. He tried to calm himself down, so he didn't cry anymore.

"Just know... that I will protect you…”

"…I will protect you with my life."

As he spoke, he hugged you tighter.

“…I’ll deserve you one day…so please wait for me…”

A few years had passed, you and Ayato are still married. Well…now happily married. You had finally managed to come to an understanding, as he treated you with love.

He still made use of you when he was feeling frustrated, as you had agreed to it long ago. But now you understood each other. You understood exactly what each other wanted, and you wanted to be there for each other.

Even your children were happy, as you gave them so much love and affection.

Children? Oh yes…your nights of fucking paid off with 3 beautiful children.

You were a great family.

One night, as were putting your children to bed, you were carrying your youngest baby in your arms, cradling and rocking her to sleep. Ayato was tucking your two other children in bed. He watched as you rocked your baby to sleep.

Your baby looked so happy now. You also seemed to be having fun.

He smiled at seeing the scene, as he thought to himself.

"This is what happiness looks like...my family is happy..." He was glad to see that your family was all happy together. It made him realize just how lucky he was.

“Stop staring, Ayato.” You called out, feeling his gaze. “You getting emotional, hun?” you teased as you laid your infant down on their crib.

He raised an eyebrow, still smirking.

"Emotional?” He chuckled. "Am I?" He chuckled again, as he reached out, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

"You're one to talk." He said, as he kissed you passionately, before finally breaking apart after a couple of seconds.

"I love you." He said with a smile, as he looked into your eyes, his own full of love and affection.

You smiled, “I love you, too.”

"Even though I've been using you all this time...you still love me? He looked deep into your eyes. He was so happy to hear that you loved him back. In fact, he thought maybe now was the right time... He leaned in for another kiss, as he spoke in a quiet voice. "Would you say...you'd do anything for me?”

You laughed “Yes, I would. Don’t tell me…you’re still thinking about our past, are you?”

He laughed to himself. How had you have known? "Well, I suppose I am, although I'm also thinking about our future..." He was silent, as he thought.

"You...you really would do anything for me? Just as you did back then...you're still willing to do that for me even now..." He paused for a moment, as he thought about what he would ask of you.

"You... you would marry me again... if I asked you to?"

You froze, looking up at him. “…What was that?”

"Did I stutter?"

He smirked.

"I'm...serious here..." He paused for a second.

"Would you...marry me again? Again, he paused for a moment. "After everything I've put you through..everything, and you'd still do it again..." He closed his eyes for a second, as he spoke softly. He couldn't imagine anything better than what he was about to ask for.

“I want to make this official. I don’t want to be married to you because our families want us to….”

“…This time, I want to marry you because I love you.”

"…So...will you...will you marry me?"

Well, Y/N? …Will you?

[nekoyin]

ooooo this iz so freaking hOT idk whyyyyyyyyyyy im probably fucked in the head lmao

Thinking about either yanderes who

Tw:noncon, kidnapping, yandere

-tie you up, force you on their laps while laughing and holding your jaw open, admiring your tears as they bounce you on their lap. They revel as you sob and have difficulty maintaining eye contact while they spit obscenities at you, dark and threatening statements that wrack your body with intense sobs and heaving gasps

“You’re mine. Don’t ever forget that”

“You need me to drill it into your cunt or your head? Both? Fuck sweetheart, you shoulda told me sooner”

“I’ll kill anyone who looks at you, and then fuck you over their body. You hear me slut? Nod, fucking nod if you understand me. Or are you too brain-dead from cock?”

“I dare you to try and escape. You’ll only make jt more fun for me to put you back in your place, underneath me”

“Beg me to slap you. Go on, beg for it. Aww, what’s the matter, why’re you crying cutie? Is it too much?”

They imitate your moans, their eyes dark and glinting as they mock your whimpers and protruding tongue. It sounds worse coming from their mouths, all high pitched and whiny. You probably sound worse, but it’s the least you can worry about as they slap your sore tits and fuck you so hard your whole body moves up with the force.

They lean in when they’re close, growling in your ear and causing goosebumps to erupt over your arms as they croon,

“You gonna cum? Huh? Cum for me, cream all over this dick you useless bitch”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck that’s it, you like bouncing? You like riding me like this? I know you do, and that’s what you’re gonna do the rest of your life. ARENT I nice? Say it. Fucking say you love me unless you want a shock collar around your throat the rest of your life.”

You’re terrified, of course, your wails useless and your pleas rendered incomprehensible as they have their way with you, daring you to act out so they can correct you for it

-But then on the other hand, we have those lovey dovey yanderes who simply sing your praise and beg for you to love them.

You’re still tied up, but they hug you close, and want you to make eye contact with them so they can see your beautiful eyes. They wanna see the color shine in them as they deliver the utmost pleasure they can for you.

It hurts their heart physically when you cower and shake your head, your gaze unable to meet his.

His eyes are glassy too now as he holds back light sobs at your fear

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me but I can’t hold back. You’re too perfect, can you understand that my love?”

“Please just look at me. I’m not trying to hurt you, I love you, you know that right?”

His questions, while not rhetorical, are unanswered as you continue to whimper in terror and try to turn in on yourself.

So he opts to be more direct and frank with you. If you won’t listen to his desperate love, then he’ll have to succumb to a more Daddy-like approach. After all, that is what he wants to be for you. A caretaker, your lover. Not a captor for you to hide away from when he just wants to find solace in your embrace after a long day.

He pushes a hand against your back and pressed himself chest to chest against you, driving his cock slow and deep into you, doing his best to hit that special spot when you writhe more than usual.

“I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” He growls in your ear, trying to mask his cracking voice with a firm grip on your tits.

It makes him harder to hear you gasp, but all the same his heart breaks as you tremble and bite your lip, sporting that adorable pout that signals a fresh new wave of barely-concealed sobs.

“You’re mine, and no one’s gonna hurt you. Anything you want, anything you need, say the name and I’ll reward you with it. All I want from you is your love.”

He softly yet firmly grips the base of your head and tugs lightly on your hair, pulling you back slightly to look at him.

“Just-just stay here w-with me and that’s all I want.”

[hitoshiyoshi]

+ 𝐀𝐋𝐋

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎

✎ manly boys need love | aged up!pro-hero!kirishima

synopsis ↬ kirishima's loving step-sister learns about his unnatural affections for her (tw:stepcest)

+ 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎

✎ devotion | aged up!pro-hero!shoto

synopsis ↬ shoto will do anything for you to join the todoroki bloodline (tw:noncon/dubcon, yandere, arranged marriage)

+ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎

『 none! maybe request something? 』

+ 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔

『 none! maybe request something? 』

[inkyclive]

⇀ tags + warnings!

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬

#𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬  ⋆ me chattering on to myself ehehe

#𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 ⋆ any ask i answer!

#𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲.𝐛𝐛 ⋆ anon asks!

#𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋆ any post that updates you on what i’ve been doing!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

common triggering topics you may come across on my blog include (but are not limited to):

—𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

dubcon/noncon ⋆ #tw:dubcon, tw:noncon

somnophilia ⋆ #tw:somnophilia

dacryphilia ⋆ #tw:dacryphilia

degradation/dumbification ⋆ #tw:degradation, #tw:dumbification

daddy kink (sometimes with a ddlg type dynamic (aka a condescending caregiver type vibe) ⋆ #tw:daddy kink

spanking ⋆ #tw:spanking

marking (bruises, hickeys, scratches, bites) ⋆ #tw:marking

size kink/size difference ⋆ #tw:size kink

rough sex ⋆ #tw:rough sex

minimal prep ⋆ #tw:minimal prep

—𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

murder ⋆ #tw:murder

yandere ⋆ #tw:yandere

toxic relationships (manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, patronization/condescension, extreme control, etc) ⋆ #tw:toxic relationship

age gaps between consenting adults ⋆ #tw:age gap

pseudocest (aka incest between adopted siblings, big brother x little sister ONLY) ⋆ #tw:pseudocest

organized crime ⋆ #tw:organized crime

drugs/drug addiction ⋆ #tw:drugs

cheating ⋆ #tw:cheating

blood ⋆ #tw:blood

if any of the topics mentioned above make you uncomfortable or upset, please filter the appropriate tags or block me! your safety and enjoyment should be of utmost concern, and it is your responsibility to curate your online space and online experience accordingly. stay safe <3

with that being said, here is a list of 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:

anal | pegging | ass eating

femdom | mommy kink | dom reader

pedophilia | underage

beastiality

pet play | hybrids

age play

lactation

water sports | scat | vomit

eating disorders

vore

full blood incest | any incest that isn’t big bro x lil sis (dad x daughter, uncle x niece, etc)

[eddiexfreakxmunson]

Crop Top

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Genre: smut, reader has nipple piercings, Pervy!Eddie

MDNI

TW: NON-CON, DUB-CON, somnophilia, smoking, cursing, dry humping, masturbation (male), Eddie is a virgin and a perv; IF YOU DON’T LIKE THESE, DON’T READ THIS PLEASE!

Word Count: 3,055

Summary: Most of the time Eddie can keep his hands to himself when he’s around you, his childhood best friend. But as you both grow older, his restraint is tested. What’s a guy to do when a golden opportunity to finally get a taste of you presents itself to him in the form of a tiny cut shirt?

Eddie nearly has a conniption when he sees you've cut the old band t-shirt he let you have.

When you'd gone hiking around Lover's Lake earlier in the week, and he'd 'accidentally' thrown you into the water in your white shirt, he'd offered up the spare in his van as a peace treaty, eyes glued to the pretty pink bra you'd been wearing underneath, even as he had apologized profusely for getting you soaked, knowing he wasn't sorry at all.

He doesn't even think about it after that. If he was honest, he'd admit that not much else consumed his brain than how fucking good your tits looked with the white cotton of your shirt sticking to them, how pretty the color of your bra contrasted against your skin, how badly he'd wanted to strip you down right there.

He'd never let you know how often he thinks about you like that. Couldn't risk ruining a friendship that had endured years of school and countless boyfriends and girlfriends that had come and gone. It was always just the two of you, and he liked it that way.

But he's still a man, and he'd have to be blind to think you weren't utterly gorgeous. And utterly unaware of how badly he wanted you under him. Naked, preferably crying out his name.

It's nights like these that ease that ache a little bit. On weekends when your parents are out of town, he can come spend the night like he used to, back when you were both in middle school. With your parents gone, he's allowed to share your bed, your warmth and smell surrounding him, driving him crazy.

It's not without its repercussions, though. More often than not, Eddie wakes with your ass pressed against him, a result of all the tossing and turning you do in your sleep, and he has to fight back the urge to give in and wake you up with his cock sinking into you.

Most mornings, all he allows is a few shallow ruts against your ass, biting his fist to stifle his groans before he's rolling out of bed to fuck his fist in your bathroom, knowing that you're in the next room, so close but so fucking far.

He's laying in your bed, enjoying a cigarette when you roll off the bed, mumbling about having to wash your face and change into pajamas before falling asleep.

He doesn't even really realize at first; he's just happy to sneak a peek at the muscles in your back and shoulders contracting as you pull your blouse over your head and drag his gaze over your body- the closest he's ever going to get to having you the way he wants.

It's not until you've turned around that he recognizes the worn gray shirt, only now it's cropped, the sleeves and most of the armpit also cut out into a make-shift cropped tank top. He sits up straighter at the sight, annoyance rolling through his body.

Sure, he said you could have it, but he didn't say you could destroy it. He's about to tell you as much when he stops short, watching you lean over to grab your pajama bottoms, and catches a complete side view of your breast for a split second as the fabric hangs off your shoulders from your position.

He can't help the way his cock jumps at the sight, and his mouth goes dry, eyes glued to your tits. He's positive you don't know how much you're revealing as you straighten again, giving him a look.

"What?"

"Nothing. Shirt looks good." he's quick to respond, blinking away his hungry expression as you give him a sweet smile and pad into your bathroom.

As soon as you're out of view, the calm facade drops again, and his mind is whirling. Sure, he's seen you in swimsuits and bras, and that one time in the rearview mirror when you had to change quickly, and he couldn't help himself from looking.

He knows it's wrong. Knows it's messed up how often he fucks his fist to the thought of you, of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, the pretty sounds you'd make if he--

"Hello? Earth to Eddie?"

He snaps back into focus to you standing right next to him, eyebrow raised. "Huh?" it's a real intelligent response to your question, and he's quick to shift around, so you don't see the tent growing in his jeans.

"I said, 'are you gonna sleep in that?'" you huff, gesturing to his dark jeans and long sleeve shirt.

"Oh. Uh, no, but I'm probably not gonna head to bed yet," he admits, shifting uncomfortably. "Probably gonna shower first." He adds, knowing there's no way he'd be able to sleep with the hard-on he's currently sporting.

You shrug, crawling onto the bed and his heart nearly leaps into his throat when you slide a thigh over his lap, momentarily pressing directly against his cock before you're gone again, sliding under the covers on your side of the bed.

"Do whatever you gotta do, but I'm going to bed, so just turn off the lights when you're done, okay?"

All he can do is mumble out an okay, practically sprinting to your bathroom, the image of your bare thighs caging his lap running around his head.

--------------------------------------------------------

Sleep tugs at him when his eyes flutter open in the morning, the warmth of your legs tangled with his luring him back to sleep. He almost gives in, lets himself relax, and drift off again when his eyes adjust to the dim morning light, and he's greeted with a sight that makes his heart stop and his half-hard cock twitch.

Your shirt rode up in the night. Not like it usually did, with the planes of your stomach in clear view, but far higher thanks to how it was cut. You're still sleeping softly, lips parted slightly as you breathe, your hair falling over your face.

On a typical morning, he might allow himself to push your hair behind your ear and run his thumb over your bottom lip, just to imagine what they might feel like against his skin. But today, he's not interested. Not with the way he can see the curve of your tits so easily, the darker color of your areola poking out from beneath the gray fabric.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, taking his time to try and commit the sight to memory when you shift slightly, your shirt flashing more of your skin and then something darker before the fabric settles again.

His eyes widen with the realization of what he just got a glimpse of, and his resolve crumbles, curiousity making him bolder. He reaches out a shaky hand, fingertips softly clutching into the grey fabric as he tugs it upwards, careful to ensure he doesn't wake you.

"Holy fuck," he hisses when he's pushed the shirt up over your breasts, eyes glued to the dark bars that pierce your nipples. How had he not known about those? Why hadn't you told him?

For a moment, he wracks his brain for a time when you could've gone and gotten them done without him knowing, watching how your chest rises and falls with each breath.

He wants to feel them. Wants to roll them between his fingers, circle them with his tongue like he's seen men do in the porn he's bought. Until now, he'd been convinced that only porn stars would pierce themselves like that, but here you are. In his shirt, in bed with him. He bites his lip, warring with himself for a moment.

You're his best friend. He shouldn't even be looking at you like this. Shouldn't even be considering touching you. But then you let out a pretty little huff, eyebrows drawn up in your sleep, and shift closer to him, the underside of your breast brushing across his knuckle resting between your bodies, and he can't help himself.

He grazes his hand against your skin, letting his fingertips explore, watching with interest as goosebumps raise on your skin in his wake, watching the way your nipple pebbles at his touch. Your skin is just as soft as he expected, a rugged contrast to the callouses that line his skin from years of guitar playing.

His fingers ghost higher until he's cupping the weight of your breast in his hand- a perfect fit, like you were made just for him- and he pushes the boundary a little bit more, heart racing as he swipes his thumb slowly over your nipple.

Your reaction is instant; he jumps, hands immediately falling from your body when you let out a muffled sigh, pressing your chest further into his hand. He's carefully watching your face, hands pressed against the mattress for a moment, afraid you'll hear the pounding in his chest and wake up.

But you don't. If anything, a slight frown settles over your features, and he wonders if, just maybe, it's at the loss of contact.

"You awake, pretty girl?" he murmurs quietly into the darkened room, listening for any response or change in breathing, reaching forward again. He's more confident this time, forgoing any more soft touches to run his fingers over your nipple again, making sure to run the pad of his thumb over the smooth metal adorning them.

The whine you let out at the stimulation has his cock straining against his sweats immediately, and he bites back a groan. "Fucking knew it." he breathes, repeating the motion, firmer this time, relishing the way you lean into him. "Knew I could make you feel good,"

For a moment, guilt seeps into him as he leans forward, freeing his other hand to press your tits together, blowing air over your skin, but then your hips shift towards him, and another whine slips from your lips.

"I've gotcha, pretty girl, don't worry," he soothes, pressing a soft kiss along the curve of your breast, his tongue slipping out to slide over your skin, leading a trail up to your nipple where he presses the pad of his tongue against it and licks a long stripe.

At that, you moan, voice muffled by sleep, but it's even sweeter than he ever imagined, all those nights he spent cumming into his fist to the thought of you.

His cock is aching, begging to be freed, and he's sure there's a stain on his sweats from where he's dripping pre, but he doesn't care. Not when he's pulling those sounds from you with just his tongue. It makes him wonder what he'd be able to do to you with his cock.

He'd be lying if a sense of pride didn't fill him at the realization. He was by no means experienced in bed. The closest he'd gotten was the girl he'd briefly dated last summer who'd given him head in the back of his van. Even that had been short and clumsy. But now, here with you, he was getting your unfiltered responses to his touch and his mouth, and if the way you pressed into him was any indication, you were enjoying yourself.

He uses the way he's pressed your tits together to his advantage, tilting his head to give your other nipple the same attention, latching his mouth over it and swirling his tongue over the peak, careful to make sure your piercing is involved, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin.

It's wet and sloppy, and a line of drool connects his lips to your flesh when he pulls back, admiring how your skin shines with his saliva. You're openly whining now, your thighs clenched together as your hips shift, searching for friction, and he crosses a barrier he'd never dared to before.

He releases your breasts with one last kiss over the sensitive skin before slipping his knee between your legs, sliding it higher until his thigh is so close to your clothed cunt, he can feel the heat radiating off you.

He has a moment of clarity, guilt filling his veins as he glances up at your face, completely unaware. And then you press yourself right against his thigh, and it disappears in a single moment as you rut yourself against him, mouth parted in a drawn-out moan at the friction.

"Fuck, sweet thing," he grits out, feeling how damp your pajama bottoms are, even through the thick cotton of his sweats. He shifts his knee higher so you don't have to work as hard, and a sharp cry falls from your lips at the sloppy contact with your clit.

He's mesmerized by the way your hips shift and grind against his leg, using him to get off in your sleep, a dark patch appearing on his pants where you're working yourself against him. He can't help but wonder if you'd move the same in his lap, his cock buried balls deep inside you. Your sharp cries cut through his hazy thoughts, dripping like honey from your lips as you alternate between whining and panting.

It's too much for Eddie. First, you prance around in his fucking shirt, cutting it so goddamn short that he gets the perfect view of your tits, and now this. How is he supposed to watch you get off so up close and personal and just lay there? He lifts his hips, slipping his sweats down just low enough to free his cock, the tip an angry red color. He doesn't bother to quiet the groan that bubbles up when he finally grips his base, his balls full and begging for some release.

"Got no idea what you do to me, princess," he grits out, pumping himself as he watches your face contort in pleasure, lips forming a pout that's just asking to be kissed as he jerks himself, circling the tip of his cock tightly and using his pre to slide his hand down his length easier.

"Betcha my cock would feel so much better than my thigh," he rasps quietly, noting the way your hips have sped up, how your moans are longer, higher, sweeter now.

He knows how dangerous it is to risk waking you now, with his cock in his hand and his thigh wedged up against your pussy, but he takes a chance anyways, angling his thigh, so it bumps against your clit with every pass of your hips.

"Not gonna last much longer," he warns, despite the fact that he's pretty sure you're close too if he's reading your body language right. "Got me feeling like a fucking perv all the time, can't believe I'm actually doing this," he pants, speeding up his movements, feeling that coil in his stomach tighten.

"Wanna see you fall apart humping my leg first though, princess, come on. Let me see, please," he pleads, his sentence drawing off into a pitiful whine as his hips buck into his hand. "Tryin' to be a good friend all the time, just wanna feel that pretty pussy one. fucking. time." he grits out, teeth clenched to suffocate the moans he's sure would wake you.

He's getting desperate, the realization that you could wake up at any second dawning on him, and he reacts on impulse, slipping a hand between your cunt and his thigh.

His fingers catch your clit immediately, and you jerk against him, back arching as you let out a sharp cry, your movements getting sloppy. He matches his strokes to the roll of your hips, tears springing to his eyes as he tries to keep his orgasm at bay to keep watching you come apart.

It only takes a few more rolls of your hips before your body is tensing, thighs shaking as you let out a choked sob in your sleep.

"Fuck, Eddie!"

The sound of you crying out his name as you cum against his palm is enough to send him over the edge, eyes wide as his orgasm hits him out of nowhere, the planes of his stomach tightening as ropes of his cum coat his hand, dripping down onto the sheets below him.

"Jesus H. Christ," he pants, a bead of blood rising on his lip from where he bit it to keep from crying out. He peels his eyes open to see the mess in the sheets and pulls back in panic, carefully pulling his hand and thigh away from you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit." Eddie curses, quickly tucking himself back into his sweats as he scoots away from you, holding his other hand off the comforter, so there's no additional evidence of what he did.

He pauses, twisting his palm to watch the way your slick catches the dim morning light, and curiosity gets the better of him as he brings it up to his mouth, tentatively running his tongue over it.

He immediately regrets it. Not because he doesn't like it, but because he does. His cock is already twitching again, and ideas of waking you up with a head full of curls between your thighs consume him. He takes a split second to roll your shirt back down over your chest, thumbing your nipples and earning him a sharp inhale from you that has him grinning despite himself.

"Someone's sensitive," he teases quietly, watching your face contort again, lip trapped between your teeth and eyelashes fluttering.

He shakes himself and groans, rolling away until his feet hit the floor, needing to get away from you before his cock got the better of him. Again.

He opts for a cold shower, stripping out of his sweats and folding them so you wouldn't see the dark spot on them, hoping the freezing water would be enough to calm him- at least until he could get home.

He's not sure how long he's in the shower for, but what he does know is you're barely stirring when he comes back, hair dripping down onto his bare back, jeans pulled over his hips but unzipped as he slips back into bed beside you, heart hammering as you roll over and throw an arm over his torso.

"Morning, Eds," you mumble sleepily, face buried in a pillow. He smiles, relaxing back against your headboard in relief.

"Morning, princess. Sleep well?"

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sun Eats Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name. 

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place. 

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now. 

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client. 

"Is everything alright?" 

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke. 

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired." 

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited. 

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics. 

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention. 

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice. 

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps. 

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes. 

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face. 

Nothing. 

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next. 

"I look forward to working with all of you."                                     

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial. 

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order. 

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way. 

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too. 

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you. 

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?" 

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks." 

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours. 

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms. 

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching. 

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru. 

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch. 

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. 

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines. 

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted. 

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class. 

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it. 

"What?" Because you must have misheard him. 

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official." 

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours. 

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop. 

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine. 

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore. 

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

𖤓

It was something minuscule. 

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always. 

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey. 

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her. 

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out." 

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life." 

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger. 

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru. 

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help. 

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that. 

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break. 

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing. 

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator. 

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!" 

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle. 

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you. 

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. 

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him. 

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that. 

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him. 

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back. 

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down. 

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it. 

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares. 

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything. 

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend. 

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg. 

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open. 

It's worse than anything you could think of. 

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you? 

This wasn't bullying. 

This was abuse. 

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired. 

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky. 

"Why?" 

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group. 

"Get lost." 

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone. 

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored. 

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-" 

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away. 

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?" 

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. 

"Anything, right?" 

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek. 

"Get on your knees." 

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little. 

"I-I-Gojo you-" 

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?" 

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru. 

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk. 

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him. 

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh. 

"Gojo I-" 

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems." 

You look down at the grass. Green, soft. 

"Satoru." 

His eyes flash in satisfaction. 

"Open up, pretty girl." 

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you. 

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought. 

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?" 

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame. 

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you. 

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth. 

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me." 

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world. 

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?" 

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it. 

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help. 

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath. 

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you." 

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum. 

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something." 

 You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him. 

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair. 

"My laptop...it's broken." 

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it. 

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you. 

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his. 

The sunset is pretty today. 

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied. 

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from. 

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?" 

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf. 

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait." 

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts. 

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her. 

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright. 

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting." 

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs. 

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way. 

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to. 

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go. 

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you. 

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable. 

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework. 

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips. 

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever. 

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom. 

"Thank-" 

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me." 

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself. 

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too. 

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him. 

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons. 

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?" 

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment. 

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken. 

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours. 

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now. 

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action. 

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone. 

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can. 

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch. 

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you." 

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock- 

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing. 

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you. 

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?" 

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again. 

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust. 

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper. 

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl." 

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar. 

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious. 

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him." 

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock. 

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch. 

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need. 

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt. 

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration. 

"I love you." 

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh. 

Fuck three weeks. 

You needed to get out, now. 

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there. 

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours. 

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out. 

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there. 

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room. 

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction. 

"You're off the clock, Ijichi," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?" 

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke. 

The door shuts with a click. 

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward. 

You take one back. He puts his hands up. 

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?" 

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood. 

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody. 

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes. 

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules." 

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked. 

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent. 

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless. 

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text." 

 His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake. 

You go to move. 

Satoru's faster. 

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment. 

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze. 

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness. 

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-" 

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt. 

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client. 

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him. 

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless. 

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears. 

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar." 

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words. 

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

 Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses. 

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now." 

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again. 

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic. 

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily. 

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?" 

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too. 

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall. 

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action. 

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar. 

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate. 

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate. 

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. 

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits. 

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed. 

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out. 

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear. 

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?" 

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that. 

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you." 

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his. 

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure. 

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom. 

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught. 

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl." 

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-" 

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-" 

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled. 

"I'll make sure it takes this time too." 

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea. 

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb. 

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine. 

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness. 

"I love you." 

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran. 

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me." 

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given. 

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation. 

[megamindscum]

NSFW, dubcon

Imagine Hawks being your mentor and he models his merch and one time he asks you to model his shirts with him. You agree because it's an opportunity to represent you and with THEE Hawks, a high ranking pro hero!! So, you'll have a few obsessed stans on your back but it would be worth it to heighten your status in the hero community.

When you get to the studio, Hawks is already there wearing his merch with his face on it and some tight skinny jeans. The camera man is setting up, most probably a famous one but honestly you hadn't dived into famous photographers yet but you probably should do for when you do become a pro hero.

Hawks notices you and throws you a large t-shirt. "Put this on Babybird." Babybird was a pet name he had given you when he was assigned to mentor you. He said it was because it was like you were a Babybird and he was helping you leave the nest. You couldn't really argue with that logic so you just let it stay. You changed your shirt and then went over to Hawks who was now sat on a simple chair, one that he could lean back on comfortably. "Come sit" he said patting his leg. What the fuck? Okay, the pet name was just under the line, but sitting on his lap for photos that will totally be in magazines for everyone to see. That's just no. "Oh come on Babybird, don't think about it like that. It's just easier to take pictures this way and whilst you're still standing... Take off those pants." "WHAT!?" I mean, you were aware of the sexualization within the hero community to get representation but this just seemed unneeded. But it would be good for you... If people were attracted to you or thought you and Hawks had a thing then you'd probably have so many fans already. So... You did it. You took off your pants, completely noticing the small smirk on his smug fucking face. "That's a good choice Birdy." You sat down on the edge of his lap, right at the knee until he decided to pull you closer to him, arm locked tight around your waist and his face pressed close to your neck. "That's better." He whispered into your neck. The cameraman seemed entirely unfazed and just started to take pictures. Gently and oh so slowly, Hawks began to grind his leg.

"Oh babybird you're whimpering, it's okay just stay still, your mentor will take care of you."

Just kissing your neck, being careful not to just let go and bite down, it would be so easy to leave a mark on your skin.

"Is the friction too much for you, you're moaning so much, you must be so close."

You look so good with his merch on. It was like he owned you.

"You're mine Babybird. No one else can have you."

"Cum for me Babybird. Cum for your mentor."

[kingkatsuki]

Sleeping | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Please do not read if you don’t like! I’m going to have plenty of fics out today if you search the tag ‘Bakugou’s Birthday Party’

Warnings: 18+, Somnophilia, Rimming, Non-Con/Dub-Con.

Word Count: 1411.

He’d been a fucking saint, patiently waiting until you were ready. The lingering kisses you’d give him as he left you at your front door in the evenings. The gentle brushes against his crotch when you’d step closer to him to give him a tight hug. Pressing your breasts against his arm whenever you’d hold onto it when you were walking down the street. There was no way you didn’t want him, you were such a fucking tease.

This was the final fucking straw.

One minute you’d been watching a movie together in your bedroom, your body snuggled into his side as his arm wrapped around you snugly. Your leg propped over one of his thick thighs as you lay your head against his chest, your fingers drawing absentminded patterns against his stomach as you raved on about how good this film was. It wasn’t.

The next moment you were fast asleep, your chest rising and falling gently as your hand stilled against his body. Your lips pushed together in a sultry pout as gentle hums left your lips, what a fucking tease.

You’d invited him into your house, into your bedroom no less, wearing the tiniest pair of shorts he’d ever seen and now you’d fallen asleep during a film that no one could enjoy, surely this was some sort of plot to get him into your room? It had to be.

Bakugou slowly moved his fingers to trail along the leg resting on top of his, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin, tracing along the curve of your knee before continuing higher. His palms splayed against your body as he used the grip to move you onto your back, freeing his other arm as he slipped between your now parted legs.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He mumbled under his breath as he took note of your loose shirt and the way it had risen up, exposing more of your skin to his prying eyes. 

His fingers stroking along your inner thighs as he grazed his thumb against the crotch of your shorts, groaning as he felt heat radiating from underneath the material. Just about managing to slip underneath the hem to feel the side of your labia. He watched in awe as your breath hitched in your throat, almost as though you could feel his actions, even when you were fast asleep. Bakugou’s vermilion eyes remained trained on your facial expressions as he moved to dip your shorts down your legs, carefully lifting your body up just enough to slide them down your curves along with your panties. Allowing them to sit around one of your ankles as he took in the sight of your bare cunt.

Your body shifted slightly, making Bakugou freeze between your legs as he watched you with bated breath. His heartbeat increasing as he watched you settle again, still fast asleep as he moved a hand up between your thighs, brushing the back of his hand against your slit, dragging his knuckle between your fold. Hissing at the sensation of your slick coating his digits, he was unable to resist moving them up to his nose to inhale your scent. A low groan spilling from his mouth as his tongue poked out to taste you, lapping at your juices against his hand as his eyes rolled back. You were so perfect. Your taste igniting something inside his body as he slowly shifted himself to lay between your parted legs, his hands curling around your thighs as he kept you spread. Flattening the pad of his tongue to stroke along your cunt. 

Your body quivered under his ministrations as his red eyes remain trained on your sleeping face, your chest rising and falling slowly as you continue to purr above him. His cock throbbing as he gives a rough rut of his hips, grinding himself down against your mattress to give him some much needed relief as he gave you another long lick with his tongue, tasting your slick against the hot muscle as he groaned into your cunt, his hot breath fanning your skin as his fingers move around your thighs to spread your folds, giving him better access. His tongue flicking against your puffy clit as he takes it between his lips, suckling it gently as drool begins to slip from his mouth, sliding down his chin and onto your cunt, mingling with your own slick as he slurps the mixture back up again.

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled as he lowered his lips, moving towards your tight entrance, dipping his tongue inside as he felt your tight inner walls clenching around his hot muscle. His nose brushing against your clit as he continued to stroke his tongue against you, dragging himself against your tightness as you lay motionless beneath him. 

You were intoxicating, every touch, every taste had blood rushing between his legs. He gave another jerk of his hips as he ground himself against your bed, creating a delicious friction as he dared slip his tongue lower, sliding between your cheeks to find your puckered asshole. The tip of his tongue circling the tight rim, feeling it flutter against his touch before flattening his tongue to run over it.

“I wonder if you’ve ever let anyone in here, shitty woman.” He smirked, pushing the tip of his tongue against your tight rim, breaching your body slightly as he felt you pulse around him, “Gonna wreck your little body.”

He ran his tongue back up to your cunt, focusing on your clit as he slipped his index finger inside your cunt. Fuck, you were tight.

The feeling of your inner walls clenching around one of his fingers was intense, his eyes rolling back as he imagined what it would feel like to have your velvety walls wrapped around his thick cock. He was going to break you. Bakugou slowly began to pump that finger in and out of your heat, curling it slightly to brush against the spongy spot inside you as he watched your breathing increase, your breasts heaving as your lips parted in almost a whine.

Bakugou slowly slid his middle finger in to stretch you out further, scissoring the digits as he curled both to drag along the same spot inside you, letting them slide out of you completely before pushing them back in again as he continued to lash his tongue against your clit. His teeth lightly nipping at your skin while he hummed lightly against you, feeling your cunt twitch around his digits as his lips curved into a smug grin. Your body was reacting to him so well, each breathy moan leaving your parted lips only spurring him on further, your slick pooling against his fingers and dripping down your slit. You were such a tease.

“You were teasing me the entire time,” Bakugou growled, sucking your clit with more vigour, “Fuckin’ slut.”

His voice vibrated against your button, increasing his pace inside you when he felt you squeezing around his digits, feeling your release edge closer as he pressed his lips harder against your slit, desperate to feel you come undone against him. 

“Come on, baby. Cum on my face.” He groaned when he felt your inner walls flutter around his digits at his lewd words, as if you could hear him even in your sleep as he focused the calloused pads of his fingers against your spongy wall. 

Your thighs began to quiver as your climax washed over your sleeping body, your toes curling as you clenched desperately around Bakugou’s fingers, his lips still wrapped around your clit as he pressed his palm down on your pelvis, in a feeble attempt to get you to stop writhing so he could help you ride out your orgasm, feeling you continue to squeeze around him as gentle tremors surged through your body. 

Bakugou slowly slid his fingers from your heat, moving them up to his lips to clean your essence of his skin as his red eyes focused on your dishevelled appearance. You really were a naughty little minx, you needed to learn your lesson.

Bakugou slid up from his position, his hands moving down to the loose sweatpants he wore, his cock painfully hard as it strained against the soft material, desperate to be released as he dipped his thumbs into the hem of his boxer-briefs, moving to tug both pieces of clothing down in one quick swipe, “I’m gonna wreck that pretty little pussy.”

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Spawn

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal), biting, scratching, breeding, oviposition, dub/noncon, kidnapping, cursing, blood, use of aphrodisiac, interspecies sex (merman and human), mentions of drowning Words:   5579 Pairing: Mer!Bakugou Katsuki x Human Fem!Reader

a/n: I’ve been getting quite a few requests for mermaid breeding. This... is probably not what you were wanting or expecting, so I won’t include anyone’s request here lol. I may write something a little... gentler later on.

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Tags: @lady-bakuhoe​​, @hoefortodo​​, @sunkissedneptune​​, @softkatsuki​​, @marilla-eldriana​​, @sanurrwrites​​, @hopeismyhope101

There was something different in that familiar crimson gaze today. You hadn’t thought much about it at first, but now, it stuck out to you as something that should have been a huge red flag. The instant you had seen him glaring at you over the water's surface, you should have run away. You should have called to him from the safety of land, to tell him you really weren’t feeling well and decided to go home. Or that you had some type of rash or injury and didn’t want to get too close to the water? Would he have believed you? Probably not. You weren’t sure of what type of fit he would have thrown if he would have tried to persuade you to come to him or just dragged himself up into the sand to chase you down. 

He was strong enough to do that. His upper body strength matched the incredible power of his tail, his arms, and core easily able to lift himself up or drag himself around. If you ran at full speed, he couldn’t get you. Maybe. You couldn’t really think about something like that though right now. The fact of the matter was you hadn’t taken his glare as something menacing. You had ignored the rolling sickness in your stomach, the little voice in your head that told you to flee. Now, it was too late for you to do anything. 

You were as happy to see him as you had always been, greeting the merman with a cheery wave and a smile as you stepped into the rolling ocean waters. You hadn’t even made it a few steps into the cool water before he was suddenly at your feet, snatching you by the ankles and dragging you deeper into the water. The impact of falling on your back onto the hard, wet sand knocked the air out of your lungs, and before you could even breathe again, you were struggling to keep your head above water. 

He hadn’t dragged you out too far, but right now, the distance wasn’t really what mattered. You were completely pinned down to the sand, his heavy red and orange freckled tail resting over your chest to keep you down. Your legs were in his tight grip, held under the knees, and spread open so his head had easy access between your legs. The rolling waves didn’t affect him at all, but as they came washing over your face, you felt as if you might just drown. It was difficult and painful to find the opportunity to inhale as much air as you could when the tide pulled out, gasping and coughing to try and purge the burning saltwater from your lungs before you were overwhelmed again. 

It wasn’t just the water that gave you the feeling of drowning. His tongue, slick and hot against the cold ocean water, was lapping at your cunt eagerly. When he had torn your swimsuit, you weren’t sure. But again, you weren’t sure of anything that was happening to you right now. Why was he eating you out like this? He had never shown any sexual interest in you for the months you had known him. In fact, he hadn’t shown any romantic interest at all. At least, not any that you had been able to notice. Bakugou Katsuki, this fierce and aggressive merman, had originally saved you from drowning while out on a tour boat during vacation. You had been so grateful to him, so you made it a point to come visit him as often as you possibly could. You liked him. But this? This isn’t how you wanted things to happen. 

You had fallen for him. You loved him. But, how could you? You were from two completely different worlds. There was no possible way that you could be together outside of close friends, and that was even a conversation you already had. 

“There’s no way I’d ever fall for a stupid human like you! You can’t even swim!” 

So why was he doing this? Why was he holding you down just for the chance to eat you out so vigorously? If he would have just hit on you a little sweeter, maybe you would have given in to him and you could both enjoy the experience to the fullest. But all of this was for his own gratification, for whatever he felt like or wanted to do with you. It was hard for you to think with the weight on your chest, the water crashing down on your face, and the burning heat between your legs. 

God, it was hot. His tongue and his mouth were like fire, sucking and lapping at your clit with such fierce intensity. You knew that you shouldn’t be feeling good, that you should be screaming for help and struggling against him. No one would hear you this far down the coastline, anyway, but the point still stands. You should have been trying. Instead, all you could do was lay there, your nails digging into the slippery scales of his tail, fighting between coughing, moaning, and yelling out in pain. 

The longer his tongue ravaged you, the hotter you began to feel. It was so odd, how every nerve in your body was so sensitive. You had sex before, but your arousal never peaked to this level so early on. Why? Why was it happening? Why was he doing this? You didn’t want this. Did you? Of course, you didn’t. You wanted him to stop. 

“B-Bak-ack!” You hacked and coughed as water rushed into your mouth the instant you tried to speak, using what little strength you could to push yourself up on your elbows. “Bakugou, please-- please, stop-!” A yelp ripped from your throat as his hot tongue left your burning pussy, his teeth and fangs sinking into the plush meat of your inner thigh. Piercing the skin, the saltwater immediately began to burn the wound, but you still found yourself unable to pull away because of his hold on you. Even the slightest twitch had his nails digging into your skin, and by the reaction he gave from your attempt at begging, he didn’t want you to make a single move. 

His tongue ran over the now bleeding bite mark, a low groan rumbling from deep within his chest. He had found something new to taste, and he did so eagerly. “Fuck, you’re so delicious. So sweet and healthy… You’re perfect. I’ve always known you’d be perfect.” His words were almost slurred as if he were a drunken man on a ramble. That was the only way you could describe his actions as if he were intoxicated. But by what?

“I… Bakugou, what-” With a swift change of positions, you were suddenly beneath him, his hand on your throat and entire body weight on you. Before you could even scream or attempt to struggle, his mouth crashed down on yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. The metallic taste of your blood would have immediately made you gag if not for the tight grip he had on your throat, which was only further making you light-headed. You tried to push up against his chest, scratch at his arms, and push his hips off you with your legs, but you couldn’t. There was no energy or strength behind your struggles. 

In an instant, everything stopped. Bakugou removed his tongue from your throat, snapping his head up to look towards the beach. Before you noticed what he may have been looking at, you could hear him beginning to growl, a deep and threatening sound that made your stomach twist nervously. What was he looking at? 

With his grip still on your neck, you didn’t have much movement, but you didn’t need it. You could hear the voices of a group of people. How far away or what they had seen so far, you couldn’t tell, as the sound was muffled by the water around your ears. The need to protect yourself suddenly burst forth and you screamed out as loudly as your burning lungs would let you, forcing your body to thrash and struggle even as your limbs burned with searing pain. Had you said anything comprehensible? Had they heard you? 

They wouldn’t have been able to save you, anyway. You already knew that your fate was in Bakugou’s hands. 

In a rush of crushing water, churning foam, and stinging sand, you felt Bakugou snatch you by the right ankle and drag you out further into the sea, not even giving you a moment to take a breath or prepare yourself. You couldn’t open your eyes or struggle, not even as your body was suddenly wrapped tightly in a strong grip. Was he holding you now? Where was he taking you? You could tell that he was moving swiftly, and the incredible pressure building in your ears and your chest told you that he must have been traveling deeper. 

I’m going to drown…! My breath… I can’t hold it!

As the burning and painful strain on your body grew more severe, you couldn’t control your involuntary thrashing, pushing against his presence and kicking where you could. It hurt so bad, worse than anything you had ever felt, and you wished that you would just drift off into unconsciousness. That’s what you had heard happened to people when they drown sometimes. Why couldn’t that happen to you? Why were you being put through this? 

You felt like you had been underwater for hours, but when you finally breached the surface, your body immediately inhaled a massive amount of air, so quick and urgent that you began to cough violently. You didn’t know where you were, and you didn’t care. All you wanted was to find that sweet relief of air in your lungs and something to secure you to reality. When a rocky surface scraped against your flailing and searching hands, you clutched onto it for dear life, somehow pulling yourself out of the strong embrace of your kidnapper to try and claw your way up the ledge. 

Before you could get far, Bakugou’s strong presence pressed up against your back, one hand holding your hip while the other took hold of your neck, constricting and preventing your body from pulling in the air it needed. 

Too weak to resist, you finally forced your eyes open, tears spilling down your cheeks and further blurring your vision. As his lips came to press against your cheek, you whimpered and tried to gasp in the air to your aching lungs. “Ba… Bakugou, please, stop! Take me back to shore!” 

“I found this cave for us last night,” Bakugou ignored your plea, inhaling your scent as if your fear was addicting. “It’s perfect. No one can interrupt us… You’re safe.” 

“I’m not!” You glanced around, trying to take in your surroundings the best you could in the dim light. From what you could tell, you were in a cave, the only source of light being a hole above you where you could clearly see the beautiful blue sky. It was out of your reach, and with no other visible exits, you knew that this was going to be your tomb. “I’m not safe with you!” 

“You’ve always been safe with me,” Growling in your ear, Bakugou dug his nails into the skin of your neck, piercing the delicate flesh and making you whine. “Now more than ever. I’ll protect you with my life. You and our spawn. Our children…” 

What? That’s… he can’t! All of this was because he wanted to mate with you, to impregnate you and force you to have his children. Was that even possible? 

“But… I’m human! You can’t!” 

“I want you, damn it! No other female is worthy of me.” Moving his hand to instead tangle into your hair, he pulled your head back roughly, leaning in to run his tongue over the new bleeding scratches along your neck. Instantly, that same heat that you could still feel throbbing in your pussy spread like fire from the wounds, making you tremble from the stark difference of cold water against your burning skin. 

What is that…? I… It’s so hot! It feels so good. Is it some type of venom? Or… I can’t think…

Your mind was beginning to grow hazy from the heat, his teeth lightly scraping across the skin of your neck and shoulder the only thing you could feel outside of the fire. 

Bite me… Oh god… Bite me! No, no- what am I thinking? I don’t want it! 

A trembling gasp escaped your lips as his teeth clamped down on your skin, easily sinking into your flesh. The fire returned with another stroke of his tongue along the wound, but this time, it was so intense that your body began to quiver, panting into the stale cave air. You felt like you were boiling, half expecting the water around you to begin bubbling and churning with your flame. Your sex was incredibly hot and aching, and you squeezed your thighs together just so you could feel something. 

You needed relief. Whatever he was doing to you with each bite and lick of his tongue against your skin was driving you completely mad. “What… What are you doing to me? Why am I so hot?” 

A low, satisfied purr left Bakugou’s lips as he smirked against your cheek, releasing your hair to run his hands down along your sides. His nails caught and ripped holes into your swimsuit, which had already been ripped apart at the crotch, so it grew looser against your searing skin. “My mate… you’re almost ready for me.” With a light nudge of his nose against your cheek, you weakly turned your head in response, immediately giving into him the instant his lips pressed against yours. You didn’t care about the blood on his lips nor the strange sweet taste that rolled down your throat, making your belly flutter and burn. 

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t safe. What would happen to you if things went wrong? What was he going to be putting inside of you? He had said children… What did that mean? 

You wanted to contemplate these things, to try and focus on the questions bouncing about in your mind, but they slipped from your fingers the instant you tried to hold onto them. Your mind was clouded by nothing but heat, pain, longing, throbbing, and aching. All the fear you had been feeling was only a vague prickle along your spine, but it was nothing compared to the new overwhelming desire. 

Both of his hands gripping on tightly to your hips, Bakugou pressed you up tighter against the rocky ledge, the roughness of the jagged surface against your breasts and hard nipples forcing a soft moan from your lips. With the sound, Bakugou released your lips, pressing his own against your ear as he growled deep and low. 

“You’re going to be my mate forever. You hear me? You’re mine. You’re my little horny bitch to breed.” As he spoke to you, so dominating and controlling in a way that made your heart flutter, you felt a new presence between your legs you hadn’t noticed before. It was slick with a slimy consistency, with a curved, ridged head and bumps along the long sides that led back to Bakugou’s hips. It was pulsing and twitching up against your sex, every soft nudge to your clit nearly enough to make you come undone that instant. 

That’s his cock… It’s so big… How will it fit inside me? It’ll rip me open…! 

“Don’t-” You choked out weakly, trying to shift your hips away from him to no avail. “You can’t! That’ll rip me apart-!” Another harsh bite to your neck made you squeal, unconsciously arching back against him and stroking your cunt along the dick still between your thighs. The pain had you squeezing them together around his girth, bringing a deep groan from his chest, teeth still planted in your skin. The longer he stayed there, the hotter the wound became, spreading through your body like the many times before. “Ow, a-ah, that’s hot! It burns, Bakugou, please!” 

Instead of responding with words, Bakugou gave a thrust of his hips, stroking his cock along your sex. The instant he ran across your clit, all your restraint snapped like a twig, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you came. Trembling and moaning, you dug your nails into the rocks you were holding on to, spouting whatever words first came to your mind in a jumbled mess. 

“F-fuck, fuck! I’m so hot; It’s so hot! I can’t take it! Please, please no more!” 

“There’s only one way to make it go away,” Bakugou lapped up the blood on your neck, shifting his hips so that the tip of his cock rested at your still twitching hole. “I have to fill you up, until you’re nice and full of my spawn. Or else you’ll burn until you die.” 

“I-I don’t want them-!” 

“You do. Don’t you want to feel better?” 

“Yes.”

“You’ll love having me inside you.” 

“It’ll… feel good…” 

“So fucking good…-” Without waiting for your response, Bakugou began to press himself into you, the head of his thick cock slipping in. The stretch as he vanished inch by inch into your clenching pussy was unlike anything you had ever felt, his girth making you breathless. But it was unlike what you had expected. There was no pain, only an intense pressure and feeling as if you were full all the way up to your throat. By the time he had bottomed out inside you, you had cum again, just the feeling of him pressing against every inch of you enough to push you over the edge. With a low groan, Bakugou dug his nails into your hips, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. “Yes, you’re nice and ready for me. My little mate… so obedient.” 

Your mind was blank to everything but the heat and his overwhelming presence inside you. The sensitivity of your body was heightened to the point that you could feel every ridge, every bump and groove of his cock. As he gave his first slow roll of his hips, pulling all the way out to the tip before plunging in again, you immediately lost all control, craving nothing but the pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t take it! Fuck me, please! Use me! I’m your mate, I want your spawn, please-” Your encouragement immediately set him off to fuck you at a faster pace, slamming into your cunt. Your voice was something that you couldn’t restrain, screaming, moaning, and begging for him to use you. 

“Yeah, that’s it! My filthy little breeding bitch. Tell me who you belong to!” 

“Y-you! I belong to you! I’ll be yours forever- you can use me whenever you want!” 

“You’ll never resist me again?” 

“No, no! Never!” 

As the pleasure began to build rapidly, you rested your forehead against your arm, your eyes rolling back  and unable to stop the drool that dripped down your chin, your mouth permanently open with the most lewd sounds you had ever made. He was using you like a sex toy, fucking you at his own pace and indulging completely in his own pleasures. You didn’t care what he did to you at this point, how many scratches marked your back or how much blood you had lost to his bites. All you could think about was him and his cock inside you. 

You were unsure how long he fucked you like this, but after your third time cumming, he gripped you by the neck and pulled your upper body back. His presence inside you had your hips arched up in perfect position for him, and he didn’t stop, not even as he growled into your ear. 

“Take them all into your hot and precious womb… With this, your body will never be the same for any other man or creature. You are mine. You will be mine forever.” With a few final thrusts, Bakugou came to a stop, buried so deep inside of you that you could feel your cervix stretching uncomfortably. At first, all you could feel was a growing heat, coating your walls and making your core tingle relentlessly. Your clenching and tense core began to pulse with your rapid heartbeat in a way that was new to you, allowing you to relax in his grip. Although your mind was still aching to rid yourself of the fire, whatever was happening to you now loosened your anxious, aching muscles. 

Then came the first egg. About the size of a tennis ball, it passed through Bakugou’s cock slowly, only taking a moment to squeeze into your cunt. Gasping fearfully as it continued to slowly move closer, you gripped onto Bakugou’s hand that was around your throat, finding that you were unable to feel your legs enough to try and kick him off. “N-no, no! It won’t fit- a-ah!” Leaning your head back with your mouth and eyes wide open in a silent scream, you were unable to stop him as he lightly bucked his hips into you, urging the egg further down his shaft. With each light thrust, it moved deeper and deeper, stretching you open. When it finally reached his tip, Bakugou gave a grunt as he snapped his hips roughly into yours, bringing forth a scream from your throat as you came hard from the pressure of the egg breaching your cervix into your womb. 

The waves of your orgasm helped to pass it through, your eyes rolled back as it passed. There was no pain, but you could feel the new presence in your lower belly, tucked safely inside of you. 

Releasing his arm, your hands slid down to caress your own belly, pressing into your lower abdomen lightly. You could feel the tip of Bakugou’s cock inside you, and your light pressure made him growl in your ear. 

“Watch it, my pet.” 

“I… I want to feel it.” 

The next egg coming through was just as blissful as the first, bringing you to orgasm as you kept your fingers pressed into your body. You could feel it this time against your fingertips, bringing a smile to your lips as you bit down eagerly onto your bottom lip. Never in your life had you imagined such pleasure would be yours, to be used and adored by a creature in such an intimate way. 

It was heaven. 

Eight more followed, bloating your belly. Whatever numbing he had done to you had spread to your stomach, so your muscles were relaxed enough to take on the new presence inside you. You felt full, as if you had eaten an incredibly large meal, but there was no pain. Still, that burning need of satisfaction was ravaging your body. It hadn’t gone away like he had promised it would. Was he not done with you? 

Removing his cock from your ravaged body, Bakugou flipped you over to face him, resting you back against the side of the ledge. With a weak grip, you kept yourself up with your legs around his waist, your arms resting limply by your sides. For a moment, you just stared at each other, giving you time to observe his brilliant and handsomely fine features. He was perfection, from the blonde fluff of spiked hair atop his head, to flawless skin, to muscular frame that had you swooning the first time you had met him. He was so gorgeous, and all the sudden so… gentle. 

With your new position, he found the opportunity to caress your swollen belly, running his hands along your skin as he gazed down at your form through the clear, rippling water. It was such an odd look to you. Was it longing? Love? Or was it just pride in the work that he had done here, filling you up with his eggs and making you submit to him. 

Did he even care about you at all? Or did he just care about keeping your body to use as he pleased? 

You were pulled from your stupor of staring at him as his hands traveled up to your breasts, taking hold of the remnants of your swimsuit and ripping it apart. The fabric discarded off to the side, Bakugou leaned in to kiss you again as he squeezed and massaged your breasts, pinching your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your mouth opened for him with a moan, allowing him to kiss you as he pleased. 

That sweet taste filled your mouth again, making you writhe and wrap your arms around his neck in discomfort of the spreading fire. Your body began to ache again, digging your nails into his skin as you moaned and panted against his lips, which refused to let yours go. Then, without a word, you felt the familiar blunt presence of his cock at your twitching hole, slipping into place like he was simply putting on a glove. You trembled against him as you tried to moan, begging against the kiss for him to let you breathe with any little moment that came your way. He didn’t. He continued to kiss you, to bite and nibble at your lip and your tongue, his sharp fangs piercing the delicate flesh when he was a bit too rough. 

“You’re so delicious,” Bakugou groaned against your lips, glaring into your gaze as your fierce need for pleasure grew more severe. “I never want to stop tasting you.” 

“I-I want to be done… Bakugou, I want to stop-” A squeak escaped your lips as he dug his cock deeper into your cunt, a new presence making itself known as it slithered up along your clit and against your pelvis. It was just as slimy and wet as the cock inside you, but it was smooth, pointed, and not quite as thick. You wanted to look down between your bodies to see, but you were too distracted by his smirk, his tongue dancing across his blood-stained lips. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” 

In that same moment, the new appendage that you couldn’t identify began to press against your cunt, beginning to enter you along with his cock. As you were stretched open, you clutched onto his shoulders, gasping and choking on your attempts to breathe. “N-no, wait-!” Clenching your eyes shut, you pushed back on his chest, but your weak body was no match against his overwhelming presence. “Don’t- not both! I can’t!” 

Sighing in satisfaction as his hand slid up your body to grip the hair at the back of your head, Bakugou pressed his lips against your cheek, his smirk only growing wider. “You can! I would have only done one at a time, but you’ve just been so naughty fighting against me like this. I have to teach you a fucking lesson, that your body belongs to me.” 

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I won’t fight anymore! I won’t!” Tears began to stream down your face as he forced both of his dicks into your cunt. If not for the fire within you that begged for pleasure and the still relaxed muscles from the eggs, you knew that you would be in severe pain. There was none. No, the pleasure is what was driving you mad. You couldn’t take it. It was going to make you go crazy if he kept this up, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him moving. 

When he finally began to thrust into you, it rocked your body so hard with pleasure that you couldn’t even find the air to scream or moan. All you could do was lean back against the rocks, not even able to feel the scratching against your back as he pounded into you, hard and deep. Head leaning back, you were sure that you must have had an insane look on your face, with your eyes rolled back and a wide, pleasured smile on your lips. But you couldn’t help it. 

It was amazing. You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel his cocks inside you forever, to be fucked and bred at every chance you possibly had. Nothing could ever compare to this bliss, not even achieving your wildest dreams. Your body was going to belong to him. Your soul was going to belong to him. 

This wasn’t right. 

How could you give in like this? How could he break you so easily? 

It didn’t matter. 

“You like my dicks inside you, huh, my pretty mate?” Bakugou hissed in your ear, pulling your consciousness to the front just for a moment. 

“I-I love… I love them. So good! Bakugou-” 

“-No. Katsuki.” He purred against your lips, watching as your face contorted with your oncoming orgasm. 

“Yes… Yes, Katsuki!” 

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” 

“I’m yours, Katsuki! Fuck, I’m going to cum, fuck, I can’t- I can’t hold it! I can’t!” Your entire body seized up with your release, clutching onto him tightly. With his final few erratic thrusts, Bakugou let out a heavy groan, digging his cocks as deep into you as he could. You could feel his hot release into you, the second dick pulsing and coating your walls. What was more, you could feel the very tip of it dug into your womb, filling you up directly with his cum to join the eggs. You couldn’t believe that you could feel it all so clearly, your body so sensitive and yet so in tune with his that it had seemed you were familiar with this. 

You weren’t, of course. As he removed himself from you, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, all your energy felt like it left with him and you collapsed forward, head against his chest. You couldn’t feel him caressing you. You couldn’t feel his fingers tenderly stroking your hair. All you could feel, as the fire within your core began to vanish, was an overwhelming sense of shame. What had you just done? What had you just been forced to do? None of this was right. You shouldn’t be here. 

Those things you had said to him… you didn’t mean it. Did you? Did you really want to belong to him? Were you really going to just lay down and accept that this was it? 

“[Name].” 

Jumping at the sound of his voice, you timidly sat up, looking up at him in fear as a new wave of tears rolled down your cheeks. Too scared to talk, you waited for him to continue, not even wanting to blink in fear that he would react badly. Though, his expression was quite soft, his crimson eyes glancing over your face with worry. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I… yes.”  You could barely find it in you to speak, the words coming out as a choked whisper. Why did you say that? Of course you weren’t okay. You were scratched up, bitten, bruised, and filled with eggs, for fucks sake! Why weren’t you yelling and screaming at him?

“Here.” Caressing you carefully, Bakugou moved you both over to a different ledge, carefully lifting you up to sit on it. “There’s a blanket and other things there for you.” 

Sitting there with your legs dangling in the water, you slowly wrapped your arms around your swollen belly, beginning to tremble from the cold. “O… okay.” 

With a frustrated grunt at the fact that you neglected to move, Bakugou hoisted himself up onto the ledge, sitting beside you and reaching back to snatch the blanket he had mentioned. “Damn stupid woman, you need to stay warm!” As he draped it around your shoulders, you couldn’t stop but flinch away from him a bit, tears still streaming down your face in fear. “Why are you scared of me?” 

“I don’t… want you to hurt me anymore.” 

Bakugou gave the back of your head a gentle stroke, letting his arm rest around your back. “You got it all wrong, moron. I don’t want to hurt you. Your wounds will heal quickly because of my venom… And being sore won’t last, you’ll be numb for a while.” 

“You act like you’ve done this before.” 

“... We don’t need to talk about that. It doesn’t fucking matter. You’re all I care about, now. I’m going to protect you.” Bakugou caressed your cheek, turning your head to look up at him. “I don’t just go for random women. I picked you for more than just your body. You should rest…” 

His final words were more of a command than a suggestion, and with that gruff growl in his voice, you listened. Scooting back towards the pad of blankets he had set up on the ground, you used the one around your shoulders to first dry off the best you could, before shuffling under the others. It was warm and oddly comfortable, but you expected that you’d find even a bed full of needles comfortable with how exhausted you were. As you settled down on your side, you watched Bakugou as he slipped back into the water, vanishing beneath the surface and leaving you alone in the cave. 

With the silence, more tears began to flow down your cheeks, running your hands up and down along your swollen belly as you craved the warmth of the sun and the cheeky grinning merman you had loved just yesterday. 

[hotwings0203]

The idea of being in an argument w your yandere or being upset while in a car w them is SO hot

Like I’m thinking of some psycho like dabi or a conceited narcissist like bakugo in this situation, maybe it’s not even a yandere but def a crazy possessive dude who has serious issues. I guess you could do a guy like hawks, whose great in public and seriously pent up at home. Maybe even shigaraki, a guy whose not necessarily strong and intimidating from the outside, but whose eerie presence and potential keeps you in line

Tw:noncon, kidnapping, dubcon

Imagine he takes you out after a long time of being cooped up at home, being preoccupied physically yet mentally in a catatonic state as they show you the only use you have is underneath them. They finally agree to take you out to a friends’ party at a bar once your tears never seem to stop after a couple of days.

They look at you curled up on the bed like a scorned cat, your legs tucked up in a fetal position as you glare at them from underneath the tiny open pocket in the blanket you seek refuge in. The tears in your eyes shine in the dim candlelight of the dark room, akin to a cat’s eyes flashing as it remains crouched from behind the shadows.

“Can you stop being such a fucking brat and just come shower with me already?” He drones, dragging a hand down his face and sighing in exasperation as you glower and flip the other way, effectively cutting the conversation off. For a couple days now you’ve been putting up more resistance than usual, and while he finds it cute that you think you can evade him for that long, it’s annoying fighting tooth and nail to force you to be close to him, much to your chagrin.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as his scowl lines grow deeper. He’s annoyed, but he knows he’s being unfair. He’s been selfish, moving too fast for you even though he has so many more plans to keep you here forever than you know to the point where he’s realized you might seriously start to consider putting distance between you two.

Hah. As if he’d ever let you try that shit.

And so, one promise of coaxing you out of your “impenetrable fortress” of bed material leads to him agreeing to finally let you see your friends again.

Anything works if it means you’ll semi-willingly and very begrudgingly approach him.

He misses your smile, your laughter, the bright light you provide in his eternal void that caves in so deep inside of him that it swallows him inside out.

You look beautiful, he can’t lie, and he watches you sway to the music in your red dress. Truth be told, he’s glad you whined when he said no to it originally. It shows too much skin, yeah, but fuck he’d be damned if he didn’t admit the way your arms extend above your head so elegantly makes his heart ache.

Your hips rocking side to side in sync with the crooning tunes playing above makes his dick harder than it’s been since the last time he had you pinned beneath him, and he wants nothing more than to drag you by your cascading hair and fuck you up against the bathroom stalls like the teasing slut you are.

But his mood rapidly plummets as he notices a group of friends he vaguely recognizes slink up next to you, joining your movements and linking hands with you.

Hands that flutter around your curves, hands that aren’t his traveling up and down your sides, against the silk you’re in and dangerously close to places he’s meticulously claimed as his own.

But if that wasn’t enough by itself, when his eyes widen and he starts making his way around the bar counter to glare at you and to get the message of distance across, you…

You roll your eyes and turn away from him.

You fucking bitch.

Who do you think you are?

Enough is enough.

Without any more provocation, your enraged captor/lover storms through the crowd, shoving bodies aside and uncaring about knocking shoulders with people who cry out indignantly at his uncouth mannerisms.

From the corner of your eye you watch as a familiar head stalks it’s way to you, and by the time you’ve turned and witnessed the scene he’s making as he comes towards you, you’re scrambling backwards and tripping over your own dress.

But it’s too late, too little to acknowledge his presence as he pushes up against you and snarls in your face, “Playtime’s over slut. Did you enjoy all the attention? Shit, if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so.”

You whimper in fear and desperately look around the party for anyone to come and intervene, but suddenly the music seems to be louder and the eyes that were previously on you and your little spat have turned to inspect the floor and around the room.

No one’s crazy enough to save you from what’s coming.

“Please! It hurts, let go! ___, stop fucking pulling me!” You yell through tears as your nails dig into his wrist.

He pays you no mind, pulling you through the mostly empty lot as a color red darker than your dress clouds his eyes, the image of you dancing like a whore while ignoring him playing in his mind on repeat.

His grip tightens marginally but you squeal all the less.

“What the fucks your problem? What, you can’t stand me having fun for more than 5 minutes without butting your crooked nose into it-“

This is the most you’ve spoken in over weeks, but he can’t find it in him to feel grateful as you falter when he yanks open the car door and practically throws you in the passenger seat.

Before you can even straighten yourself upright in the seat, he’s already rounded the car and locked the doors. You open your mouth to fire off another round of insults when he starts talking in a low, barely controlled voice.

“When we go home, your phone, laptop, keys, and any electronic you have is out the fucking window. You wanna act like the child? You wanna be a brat who can’t stay in her lane and be grateful? I’ll show you what happens when you act like one.”

Your agape mouth curls back in fear as he turns to face you, his enraged leer taking up the entirety of his face, his eyes gleaming with malice more than usual. His knuckles on the steering wheel are bone-white as he turns sharply this way and that, jostling you in your seat.

“You-you can’t do that. You’re not my goddamn father-“

“The hell I am, I’m your fucking daddy for all you know. After the shit you pulled tonight? I’m gonna act like one too.”

Your lip trembles as he continues in a growl, the streets blurring and starting to go by faster as he works himself up with terrible promises.

“-bend you over on my knee, beat your ass black and blue like how you wanted right? This was all for attention? Well, you got my fucking attention you cock-hungry whore.”

Your heart drops because you know the difference between his empty threats and his real ones.

He never has empty promises.

“I’m gonna tie you up and gag you with your own panties, would you like that, huh slut? You wanna be treated like my bad little girl?”

You sob and turn to the window as he shoves one hand in between your legs, groping harshly at your thin-lace panties and pressing his thumb near where you clit is.

“Nah. Nah, don’t fight me off now baby, I’m just playing your game. Look at me when I’m talking to you, the same way you look at me when you’re taking my dick so fucking deep.”

Your efforts to squeeze your legs together are thwarted as his massive hand pinches the meat of your thighs, forcing you to open up.

Your chest heaves as you gaze blankly out the window, your heart suddenly jumping when you realize he’s going 120 in a 50 lane.

“W-wait, please, slow down you’re going too fast.”

He booms with laughter and starts jerking the car left and right, doing nothing but increasing the speed 10 more miles up.

“Why, does this scare you? Are you scared, little girl?” His lip curls back into a deadly grin as he takes his eyes off the (thankfully) mostly empty highway and stares at you, your knees tucked away from him into the side of the car door. Your dress is askew and teasing a glimpse of your inner thighs due to his perverse ministrations before, your mascara running down your face.

You look like you got a good fucking, and he can’t help but to adjust his straining boner in his pants as he blatantly leers at you, his lip in between his teeth as he takes you in.

You’re terrified at his lack of attention on the road at the speed he’s going, so scared that your throat chokes up and all you can do is gape and point a trembling hand at the road.

“The! R-road, look!” You cough out and curl your hand against the armrest, your fingers tightening in preparation for the worst.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought this on yourself. This is what you get for ignoring me and breaking my trust. I have half a mind to pimp you out since I’m such a good boyfriend and all you want is attention.” His voice is airy and light but trembling with rage still. Just to turn things up a notch and to really teach you a lesson, he turns the radio on all the way to full and starts suddenly cutting across four lanes of empty road, then speeding back to his previous lane, and then again.

“Fucking stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please slow down!” You shriek, closing your eyes and bracing your body for impact.

But miraculously, he slows down and ceases the lane-swerving.

Your blood pounds in your ears and you grasp the sides of your dizzy head as you heave fast breaths. Your whole body is shaking, and you feel like you’re gonna puke as it takes a few minutes to calm down and stop an impending panic attack.

By the time you lift your head up from your knees and gotten a hold of your surroundings, you realize with a pang of shock that he’s already parked in some secluded woods area, and plopped you in the backseat.

“Finally, you said something. ‘Was wondering how long we’d live from the way you were forcing me to drive.”

You glance up and flinch at the way he looks.

The car is turned off, the moonlight behind him illuminating his silhouette and eerily only letting the whites of his eyes shine bright with mocking anticipation.

It’s befitting for him, he thinks, that the area he picked is dark and littered with giant trees that look overhead. The only light in this void that is so reminiscent of himself is one that he allows to come through, light that he lets you see, and that he takes as well.

You’ll shine as bright as he allows so.

“And now, for your lesson, little slut.”

*******

IM GONNA DO A PART TWO SOON SINCE I LIKED THIS ONE HEHEHEH

[envy-of-the-apple]

Missed Chance

Dark! Gojo Satoru x reader

(Warnings: implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, manipulation, dubious consent/noncon/rape, mc's going through it, afab!reader)

WC: 3.8k

Despite his laid-back demeanor, Satoru was extremely diligent.

He hardly forgets anything, every little thing in his life adheres to schedule. It took you a while to get used to how strict he was. It took even longer to adapt.

You supposed there was an upside to this, at least it made the day predictable.

The obvious downside was there was no way for you to break the norm. His schedule was too tight, his security was too rigid. There was no way for him to ever not know what you were doing. You’d never have the chance to seek out fresh air, feel actual sunlight on your skin, not just by sitting on that caged balcony.

But today he’d left the door unlocked.

You could see the bolt. Unlatched. Open. He hadn’t clicked it shut the second he got home, entered a code only he knew on the security pad. You don’t even think he noticed. Did he forget? Was it all some fluke accident? 

“Dinner’s great, by the way.”

Your gaze shifts to Satoru. The two of you were currently sitting at the dining table, eating something warm and delicious. The recipe was old. Something your mother often made.

How was she, these days?

“I’m glad you like it,” You say, “I haven’t made it in awhile. I wasn’t sure if it would turn out well.”

“No, it’s delicious.” Satoru grinned. “You should make it more often.”

You should focus on the conversation, give all your attention to Satoru just as he wants, but the unlocked door is so distracting. He couldn’t have not known, right? Satoru was always diligent, he never did anything carelessly. This was obviously some sort of test. He was trying to gauge your reaction. Don't fall for it.

But there’s a tiny chance, too cautious to be hopeful. There’s a thudding in your heart. Apprehension. Excitement.

“Is something wrong?”

His words are light, you can’t sense any malice, but his voice still gives you chills. Had he seen you glancing at the door? Were you smiling? Did you look too happy? Too excited?

“It’s nothing,” You finally manage to cough out, “how was your day?”

Satoru hums, “Good, a little exhausting. The students have been running me ragged all day. They're getting stronger and stronger by the minute. It's a little scary, now.”

He’s rambling. That’s good. It meant he was relaxed. Eased enough to talk to you about trivial stupid stuff. That meant Satoru didn't know. 

Or maybe he did and this was all his way of lulling you into a fake sense of security. Was he baiting you? Acting all careless and docile just so he can pounce the second you make a mistake?

He glances at your bowl. "You done?" You realize how empty your dish is. You hadn't remembered taking a single bite. "Yeah, you?" "Licked clean." Satoru lazily grins and you manage a smile. "Here, I can take 'em." He carefully reaches over to grab the dirty dishes, ambling towards the kitchen. You listen to the sounds of water running, a clatter of plates and utensils. He's not watching right now, you think as your eyes slide open to the unlatched door. It was like it was taunting you. How quiet would you have to be? Would your chair make a noise if you stood up? Would the floorboards betray you? 

And then, you think of how difficult things got the last time you got out. The first time. The chains were brought back, the endless lectures and sensory deprivation. Why would you want a chance for it to go back like that?  You barely flinch when a hand drifts to your shoulders. Warm lips meet your neck.  "Come to bed," Satoru mumbles into your skin. His voice is soft and dull. It's not a request. You hum, standing up to follow him. The chair scrapes against the wood. Every so often, a floorboard below would squeak.  Perhaps it was a bit naïve to think you'd be left alone tonight. He'd been so docile, up until that pointing, greeting you with a chaste kiss and nothing more. Still, you don't expect the hands under your shirt, the bite on your neck. You don't hesitate. It's just a pause. An error. "...I thought you said you were exhausted," You remind him but you don't fight when he backs you up against the bed.  Satoru hums into your neck. He sucks in your breath, inhaling your scent.  "Changed my mind."

You don't say anything to that, maneuvering yourself into a position he wants. You lay back, allowing him to pin you against the soft mattress. He's not suffocating you, not like the first time when you were crying and scratching. The first time, when you realized this man wasn't entirely human, when he used to laugh at your pathetic attempts of escape. Soon, you realize that he retaliates only to what he's given. Play nice with Gojo Satoru, and he plays nice too. 

He's nice. Not kind. There's still a possessive edge to his touch when he grasps your thighs, pulling down your shorts to reveal cotton panties. He barely gets them off of you. You suppose you should be a little grateful. He ripped them apart the first few times. 

He gets a hiss from you then when his mouth finds the sensitive side of your neck, right where the skin meets the clavicle. Sharp teeth dig into your skin. In response you reach over, tugging his hair. It's the only retaliation you can ever really give him. Now, you know when to pick your battles. 

"Gentle." It's not a request, too soft. It's a barely comprehensible plea. He licks the wound in an apology. His next bite is softer, but just as marking. 

Satoru forgets that sometimes. How fragile you are. Every so often, you'd have to remind him if your sobs already haven't. Even now, when his hands are already starting to tighten around your wrists again. 

Or maybe you're being too optimistic. Satoru doesn't forget. It's more like he loses control every so often, enough control that he crushes you. You don't know which explanation is more terrifying so you ignore it. His teeth make an excellent distraction, nibbling at your skin once again. Nicer. Nicer, not kinder. 

Sometime later you're able to slip off his glasses, folding them and placing them on the night table. You're fully naked now. Satoru's barely unbuttoned his shirt. You gasp when he kisses your breasts, squeezing and groping them. 

"Don't think I'm ever gonna get enough of you, baby," he groans.

You smile tersely. That's what you were afraid of. 

He trails his mouth down eventually. He's in no hurry, both of you know you have the entire night. Your cunt is already dripping, practically ready for him, but he's known to drag things out-- make things more fun. Lithe fingers prod at your clit, hushing you when you give a sharp moan. 

Things always end the same. Nothing you experience here-in this bed filled with expensively soft satin- will ever be new. You're used to it, adapted. A part of you even enjoys the sensual touches, because fuck— Satoru's ridiculously good at what he does. Breaking you down, only to lift you back up to see him again.

You reach down just when his mouth meets your pussy. He savors you, his tongue moving painfully slowly at your folds, catching at your clit before starting over. You sigh, your body stiffening as you card fingers through his soft hair. It's always so malleable. You've seen the products he has in his shower, each more expensive than the last.

When Satoru passes over your clit for the third time, barely touching, you know he wants you to beg for it. He's needy like that.

“Satoru,” you plead anyway, your voice weak and pliant and his, “I want it.”

“What?” he pulls away, peering up at you, “What do you want, pretty girl?”

You don't hesitate. The you, a century ago, would have hated that. The you, a century ago, would have despised the pathetic bitch currently writhing underneath him. The you, a century ago, would have tried. 

But that was you a century ago. You're older now, maybe a little wiser too. 

“You,” you beg, “I want-want you to make me cum.”

It's all he needs to stop playing coy. He ducks back, grinding his tongue on your clit, before sinking to slurp at your leaking hole. He's messy with it, might even be louder than you, with the way he moans into your pussy. Sometimes, you wonder if this is more for him than for you. If he always wanted a place to worship, be beneath than. 

Soon, your mind shuts off as his tongue meets the tangle of nerves again. You're moaning, letting yourself arch your back, feeling the pleasure flood your body. It's easy to forget where you are, who you're with. Satoru's like a drug in these moments, easily washing away your anxiety and hatred, just to replace it all with him. 

When you tug at his hair, his voice of approval rumbles through you and it's almost enough to push you off that edge. He keeps you there, right at the cliff, letting your voice get more and more delirious and ruined. 

"Come on, gorgeous," he says, voice muffled and damp, "almost there for me." 

It's a slow build-up, heavy, unburdened, but it's just as powerful. You hit your peak just as he lavishes your clit with his tongue. He holds you down by your thighs, letting you grind against his face as you whine out his name in a broken sobs. He finally releases you when the first pangs of overstimulation make you jolt, when your tugging gets a lot more insistent. Even then, you'd be a fool to assume he left you because you were asking him to. 

He's so pretty like this, you think dazed. Hovering over you, his soft hair like a halo, lips pink and wet with the essence of you. It'd be foolish to compare him to an angel. He's more like God. 

"Fuck," he breathes, "look at you." 

When Satoru bends down, the kiss is sweet. Gentle. Loving. You let yourself enjoy it. His love is suffocating, but sometimes it's just enough. 

He sits up, letting you up too. His favorite position is you in his lap. You think it has to do with his desire to be controlled, to rescind his power, for someone else to do the work for once. Just a little. When you're on top of him, he's giving some of it away. 

He sits with you, back up and straight, face close to your chest. He's not willing to give away all the control. 

Every part of him is beautiful, his cock is no exception. Flushed and already leaking at the tip. Your hands are cold. When you go to touch, he hisses. 

It's nice to have reminders that he's still human. 

"Sorry," you say. He swallows your hand with his own, keeping it there. Satoru's always been so enthralled by suffering. Whether it's yours or his. 

Your pussy is dripping again, creating a stain on his jeans. Your hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, steadying yourself. His shirt feels expensive to the touch, you wonder if he'll get upset if you rip it. Maybe he'd laugh. He always said he liked it when you were unpredictable. You always thought it was so unfair whenever he was clothed and you weren't. 

He leads you down, hands on either side of your hip. You lean back as you feel the stretch, deeper and deeper. Like instinct, your pussy tightens like a vice. He sucks air through his teeth. 

"So fucking good." He leans forward, head buried in your chest. His lips find one of your nipples. "You're always so fucking good, pretty girl. How did I get so lucky?" 

It's between a laugh and a gasp when he sinks into you, right to the hilt. You stay like that for a moment, listening to him breathe in. And out. And in. You think he might like this more than any actual movement. The intimacy, rather than the sensual nature of it. 

His impatience overrides his desire eventually. He rolls his hips into you. Slow. Steady. Already you're starting to feel it. You hum through your lips when he gropes your chest mindlessly, like touching you is just an afterthought. 

It takes another muffled whimper before he starts to pay attention to your face. He gives a harsh thrust, leaving you gasping, before he leans up to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

"You're a little quiet," he mutters, tasting the skin on your jaw. He licks. You shiver. 

"Oh?" You ask, though it's mid-moan. You can feel him smile. 

"Hm," he agrees, kissing you at the throat, before grabbing your hips again to go a little faster, "Like it though. Means there's more of you to break." 

You don't know what he means by that. You're probably better off not knowing, closing your eyes gripping his shoulders and pretending he isn't what he says he is. 

You're so close that your clit grinds on his skin, sending sparks up and through you. You try to lean back, trying to alleviate just how much it is, but Satoru doesn't let you. He follows you immediately, letting you lose your balance and fall right into the bed with him on top of you. 

"Satoru I-" you get cut off by the pressure, practically babbling, trying to get your words out even if you can't understand them yourself. 

He laughs into the crook of your neck, reaching down to rub at your clit. "This what you need?" 

"It's-it's not-Satoru-" 

He practically growls at your sob, hiking your leg up to his waist so he can pound that much deeper into you. 

"You-you can't-shit- you can't get mad at me for going crazy when you're acting like that." He hisses, dark and vile, but he can barely contain himself either. 

The hand on your clit, the insistent fingers, ensures you go first. You spasm on his cock, milking him as your back arches and you let out this shameless whine that's so needy and animalistic. He keeps acting like he's that much better than you, but he's not too far behind. He clutches the back of your neck, kissing you so aggressively you can almost taste the blood. 

He falls apart beautifully above you, crashing and burning. You can barely recognize him cumming inside of you as he falls forward, sucking on your clavicle like he can hold himself back. Another mark you'll wear for tomorrow. 

You're still panting by the time he recovers. He's purring now, lavishing your broken body with languid kisses. You accept the affection gratefully, kissing him back when his lips meet yours. 

"I love you," he mumbles, satisfied, quiet, "I love you."

You hum, but you don't respond. Satoru never cared either way.

He doesn't pull out, you can feel his cock steadily hardening inside of you. You don't acknowledge it. 

No matter how many months you've been with him, you will never get over how beautiful he is. 

Especially now, when he lays right next to you, painfully still, eyes closed. It's a rarity to see him sleep. You don't think he ever does. His white hair drifts against his forehead, almost like a curtain of silk. His face is uncharacteristically plain. His smile is gone, if anything there's a hint of a frown. 

A part of you wants to touch. Reach out and feel the soft skin. Maybe then you'd understand what it was to be so beautiful. Maybe then you'd understand how someone so beautiful could be so cruel. 

In the end, you don't. Instead, you carefully unwrap himself from you. He stirs but doesn't awaken. You keep an eye on him until you're out of the bedroom door. 

The mornings are quieter than the evenings. You adhere to a schedule, just like you always have. Dishes need to be put away. The table needs to be reorganized. The mornings are a bit more freeing. As much as they can be. Satoru isn't so abusive. He'd recently gotten you a book you were interested in. The TV still worked. Most mornings, you'd make you and him a cup of tea. You'd sit on the couch, swathed in a blanket. 

Most mornings, he was here with you. He's not human you're not sure what he was but he likes to pretend that he is. Mornings would be a play of domesticity. Both of you mutually working towards an idea of breakfast. You'd listen on as he'd prattle about things that shouldn't really matter, but they do, at least to him. Years later, you think you understand why he's so obsessed with normalcy. To a man who could be described as a God, monotomous work must be a delicacy. 

But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked. 

You can see it right from the kitchen. Still untouched from last night, the security screen happily chirping. It was just across the hall, less than a few steps away. If you wanted to, you could crawl to it. How easy would it be to step outside? 

You've been reminded of your mortality before. The first time wasn't due to Satoru. You were a kid, barely a teenager. Playing by a lack, balancing on a log before you had slipped, and nearly drowned. You woke in the hospital a day later. There's still a scar on your upper neck. Satoru kisses it sometimes. 

Being aware of your mortality with Satoru is constant. Akin to a coat, thin enough to not be hot, but you can still feel it cover your skin. The first time you left, he wasn't necessarily upset. More or less he was amused, as if you were a dog that had just found a way to sneak out to the backyard. As if the thought of you outsmarting him was laughable. There was no anger when he brought you back, gently kissing away the tears. The following days were intense, the air was suffocating. He was careful about the fire escape now. Maybe, back then, he didn't think you were so desperate. You know what they say about wild animals.

You weren't a wild animal anymore. You were a tamed rabbit.

But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked. 

You think you'd go home. Not your old home, that apartment in the middle of the city, cramped yet with too little time to do anything about it. You'd go to your parent's house. You'd collapse into your mother's arms. You'd clutch onto your father. You'd squeeze your siblings to death. You'd eat warm food-your mother's cooking. Somehow, you'd convince your entire family to abandon their fluffy mattresses and sleep in the living room. Together. 

Perhaps, you'd enjoy the city. You never once saw the beauty in it, not until you were locked in this penthouse. Nowadays you find yourself staring out the window for hours, looking at the twinkling lights. Maybe you could be part of the crowd again, slipping through the cracks of being average. You could visit that cafe you'd been meaning to go to but never fully checked out. You'd pay for overpriced food, and drink cold sweet drinks that burned the back of your throat. Strangers would be all around you. You'd never know the meaning of silence ever again. 

You shouldn't think like that. It's ridiculous. It's cruel to hope. Nothing regarding Satoru is ever that easy. It's a trap. Another sick game he wants you to play because he's bored or he's testing you or just because he can and he will. 

But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked. 

You keep the sink running because it's noisy; because you're hoping it's loud enough to cover your footsteps. Would be that easy? Has it ever been that easy? The bedroom door is still closed. The front door remains unlocked. 

You take one step where you know you're not supposed to. And then you wait. 

Heaven doesn't fall. There's no explosion, no heat, no flame, no pain. There's nothing. Just the sound of water collecting in the sink. 

You take another. It's even smaller. But less hesitant. 

You take another-

"Good morning!" 

His voice is always so soft and warm, but it makes you jump. Satoru appears right as you close the tap, done with the dishes. He's not wearing his glasses, nor does he wear his blindfold. He comes as Satoru, grinning down at you. 

You expect the kiss on your forehead. "Why weren't you there when I woke up?" You can hear the pout in his voice. 

You shrug, a small hesitant smile on your lips. "Hungry? I was thinking about crêpes this morning." 

"Fancy," Satoru muses. Another kiss on your temple before he's moving away. "We got everything for it?" 

You hum, focusing on the sink. The droplets of water. You will yourself not think about your sinking heart, falling down and down and down into your stomach. 

"Oh, would you look at that?" You jump at his words. He sounds just as cheery as always.

When you turn around his gaze is locked on the front door. It's still unlocked. 

A laugh escapes his throat. Light and airy but it doesn't help your darkened look. If anything, it makes it worse. 

"Looks like I forgot to lock the door last night. I'm so forgetful, sometimes." He complains despite you both knowing the truth.

His footsteps are so loud. Why are they so loud? Why can you hear them rupture your ears?

"Guess we got lucky. Who knows who could've gotten in." The lock clicks shut. 

Immediately, you burst into sobs. 

It's ugly. Pitiful. The kind that makes you sink to your knees because your emotions are too much. Your relief is too much. It's too much. It's too much because you knew. You knew what it was and yet you were so so close. The relief is there, but the fear if he had taken one more minute, two more seconds. 

He's there as always. Stooping to your level, taking you within his arms. You don't fight. You never fight. You allow your head to rest against his shoulder, uncaring if your tears soak his expensive shirt. His constant words of you're okay you're okay are supposed to be comfort. So are his warm hands, sinking into your clammy skin. You could almost believe his sincerity. It would be so easy to. 

But it's his smile that gives him away.

Too wide.

Too much teeth. 

[kingkatsuki]

Florescence | Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

Here is my fic for the first @bnhabookclub​ event. Anyone is allowed to enter, please click here if you wanna join in!

Thanks to the lovely @leeswritingworld​ for reading through this for me and boosting my confidence on a near daily basis.💕

Warnings: 18+, non-con/dub-con, sex pollen(ish), PWP, pervy Kirishima.

Word Count: 5633.

Three times. Three times Kirishima had tried to show you how he felt but each time he felt like he got nothing in return. 

The first time you met Kirishima it was because he’d saved your life during an attack in Mustafu. A low-rate Villain had held you hostage during an attempted attack on the city. Your Flower Shop had been ransacked, the fact that the building was still standing was a miracle in itself.  Luckily, Ground Zero and Red Riot were nearby and managed to save all the civilians that had been caught in the crossfire, finding you trapped inside the shop, beams preventing you from escaping the destroyed shop. The way you’d looked at him that day played on repeat in the back of his mind daily. You’d looked so terrified when he’d first seen you against the counter, your hair framing your face as you looked to the ground, your knees pulled up to your chest to try and cocoon yourself. 

When you’d caught sight of your saviours, the relief that flooded your features was irreplaceable. Your wide eyes looking up at him gratefully as you clung to his waist, your head buried against his chest as tears began to slip down your cheeks. You’d thanked him, but then you tried to thank his partner, your arms curling around his broad shoulders as he hurled insults towards you, trying to shove you off him. Kirishima hadn’t done that. He’d held you tight in his arms as though you were the finest china, nervous that you might break. Nothing like his explosive best friend. “Thank you so much, Ground Zero. You’re my favourite hero.” Your words rang in Kirishima’s ears as he replayed the scene in his head. “You’re my favourite hero.”, it wasn’t him.

He’d managed to get your number after the incident, claiming it was to make sure that you were doing okay, giving you a lifeline where you could call if anything happened again. You’d given it up easily, giving him a reassuring smile as he took you home. Kirishima had to stop himself from oversharing every time he dropped you a message, not wanting to scare you off as his infatuation continued to grow. Most of his texts were simple ‘How are you doing?’, ‘Hope you’re having a good day?’, sometimes you’d text back immediately, other times it would take hours. He found himself staring at his phone as he checked for your response. Trying to tell himself not to double text, terrified of scaring you off. He couldn’t help it, he just wanted to be close to you, to see you again.

The second time he’d met up with you had been a week after the incident in Mustafu. Deciding to meet you at a local coffee shop since you’d yet to return to work, the incident still weighed heavy on your mind and your shop was back under construction. Kirishima decided the flowers that he was going to give you were going to be light purple lilacs. He’d researched online about their meaning and found out that they were given to signify a new love, perfect for the moment that someone feels love for the first time. Exactly how Kirishima felt having met you. He’d been so hopeful the first time he’d gifted them to you. 

Kirishima wished he could take your pain away, to be the one that made you feel safe and secure. When he stepped inside the quaint shop he noticed the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, your cheeks darkening as you felt your skin become warm, blushing as he handed you the bouquet, immediately moving your nose down to inhale the scent. Happily bringing him into a warm hug as you accepted the gift, pride coursing through Kirishima’s body as he marvelled at your reaction. Once again you’d thanked him for saving your life, he immediately offered to buy you anything you wanted on the menu, hushing you as you tried to object. Red eyes watching as you spoke to him animatedly, your smile infectious as he tried desperately to make his staring less obvious which was easier said than done. He was completely enamoured by you. But like the first time you’d met, your thoughts immediately moved to his friend, asking how Ground Zero was and whether he’d be joining you. 

The third time he’d tried harder. Your shop was finally open again, he was hopeful when he stepped inside. The bell above the door chiming to signal his entrance, his eyes immediately glancing around the bright floral displays. The shop looked completely different now to when he’d last stepped inside to save you, almost unrecognisable now if it wasn’t for the array of flowers inside.

“Red Riot?” You smiled from behind the counter, your fingers stalling on the bouquet that you were currently making, “What brings you here?”

“I was just on patrol and thought I’d come and check out the new shop.” He smiled as he approached the counter, looking down at the arrangement you were working on. Bright orange flowers held between dark green foliage, “How are you doing?” His eyes softened as he stared at your face, you were so beautiful.

“I’m getting there, slowly.” You smiled wistfully, beginning to tie the bouquet with string to hold it together, picking out a paper to wrap it in.

“Well, I was wondering what flowers you’d give to someone to tell them you like them?” He rubbed the back of his head nervously as you smiled up at him.

“Looking to buy flowers for a girl?” You teased, leaning against the counter.

“Something like that.” His eyes roaming across the walls covered with flowers, different colours, different styles. There had to be something in here that would make you feel the same way, something that would show you how much he cared, how much you meant to him. 

“Well, you could try these.” You suggested, pointing down at the orange roses you’d just finished wrapping, “Orange roses symbolise desire, fascination, enthusiasm and energy.”

Is that what you thought about him? His heart began to race, nervous that you’d be able to see how much your words affected him. 

“They actually kinda remind me of Ground Zero,” Your fingers stroked along the petals delicately as you held the flowers up to your nose, inhaling their scent. 

Kirishima felt his heart drop. They reminded you of Ground Zero. Of course they did, why wouldn’t they? He’d been so kind and caring to you, checking in with you regularly. Sending you messages to make sure that you were doing okay and that your flower shop was going to be back in business. Asking whether you had enough money to get by, if he could help in any way. When was the last time Ground Zero had text you? Or even stopped by to show that he cared? 

Never. Kirishima cared.

“You don’t wanna take any flowers? What about the girl-” You looked up at him in confusion, blissfully ignorant of his feelings for you.

“I’ll come back.” Kirishima bit his tongue, turning around to leave the shop as you called out a ‘goodbye’ from behind the counter. 

That seemed to be the answer, that you didn’t want him. You wanted his best friend, but Kirishima needed a way to show you how wrong you were. He was the perfect guy for you, not Ground Zero, you’d soon realise.

In hindsight, googling ‘how to make someone fall in love with you’ wasn’t one of Kirishima’s brightest ideas, but he was running out of options. How was he supposed to make you see that he was perfect for you? Not anyone else, not his best friend, him. The search brought up article after article about how to woo someone, how to slip your way into their heart and make them fall in love with you. Some of the answers made him scoff as he scrolled further down the search engine. 

“The more you interact positively with someone, the more they'll like you. Yeah right-” He mumbled to himself, continuing further and further through the searches. So many pointless answers. Telling him to look in the mirror and repeat things he liked about himself first, to buy them gifts, flowers, to love himself first. It was all ridiculous, how would any of this work when it’s exactly what he was doing already.

His eyes caught sight of a particular link as he paused scrolling.

‘How to trick someone into loving you. Loving ways to manipulate someone into loving you.’ his fingers hovering over the track-pad as he clicked through. 

The first option was ridiculous, making him almost click back out of the page. ‘Stare into someone’s eyes for sixty seconds to induce feelings similar to love.’ Yeah right. He’d already done that, for way more than sixty seconds. It didn’t work. The next suggestion was to listen, and Kirishima already knew he excelled at that. Listening to you drone on about his best friend while he sat right in front of you. One of the adverts on the side of the page caught his eye as he went to scroll further.

A black flower that looked very similar to a rose, but had black seeds inside the centre. The advert had the caption ‘The easiest way to find out someone’s true feelings for you’.

Immediately moving to click the link, Kirishima was taken to a different website, the page a dark grey as he began to scroll through the article. The website claimed that this flower would induce the feelings of love and affection to the opposite sex. All you had to do is give the appropriate flower to your suitor and they would fall in love. Maybe falling in love was a bit extreme, Kirishima thought as he continued to read the article, but maybe it would be the push you needed to realise that he was perfect for you. The more he read the more it, the more it seemed like this could be another failed attempt to show you how much he loved you, the disadvantages seemed to be if it didn’t work it would just make you feel nauseous or sleepy. It didn’t seem like a bad thing, I mean, you’d feel better after anyway? And what a small price to pay for true love.

Looking more in depth, it seemed like this flower was only available at specialist florists. Kirishima immediately typed the address into his phone, mapping out how long it would take for him to get there. If he left now maybe he’d be able to catch them before they closed. The idea finally set in stone.

He was going to make you see, make you realise that he was the perfect guy for you. That you were made for each other. 

Kirishima was so excited to see your reaction, the fact that he’d found a flower that you didn’t sell in your shop, that summed up all his feelings for you. This could be the start of a beautiful relationship between you both. Imagining what your face would look like when you saw the gift he’d bought for you, knowing how much you loved flowers he was excited to see your reaction. 

Maybe the flowers would have the opposite to the desired effect and would instead send you to sleep, it wouldn’t be too out of character to think that. The florist had spoken about the pollen affecting people in different ways. It was a risk and after trying everything else Kirishima had decided to take it. The worst that could happen was that they wouldn’t do anything and you’d think he was just buying you flowers to be nice, as per usual. The chivalrous best friend, friend zoned again. Kirishima raised his hand up to the door to knock for you, standing expectantly with the flowers in his hands. He was still dressed in his full hero costume having finished a tedious shift before coming straight to you from the florist. 

When you opened the door he couldn’t help but see your features falter slightly, obviously hoping that it was someone else, trying to hide your disappointment as you gave him a smile.

“R-Red Riot?” You hid yourself behind the door slightly, feeling slightly exposed in your choice of pyjamas. An oversized Ground Zero shirt paired with a pair of cotton panties. Tugging the material down your legs to hide more of your skin as you stared up at the hero, “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d stop by and see how you were doing after the attack?” He couldn’t help his eyes from trailing along your exposed skin, mapping out the expanse of your thighs as he watched them disappear under the shirt. Your feet shuffling on top of each other nervously as you pondered whether to invite him in.

Of course you were wearing a Ground Zero shirt. There was no way it would ever be one of his, even though he was the one that saved your life, that stopped anything bad from happening to you. He was your defender, your protector and still. Even in this moment you were choosing his best friend over him. Kirishima had tried to not let the hero positions affect his work, trying to feign happiness at his place in the pecking order, but it was difficult when he watched his best friend fly to the top even with his brash, brazen attitude, leaving Red Riot to hover in the middle of the Top Twenty, sometimes edging towards the Top Ten but nowhere near his best friend’s ranking. He forgot to count the amount of times that he’d arrived on a scene with the media already rushed to Ground Zero like he was the greatest hero in the world, not even acknowledging that it was him that saved all the people, Bakugou instead focused on the fight. Even the people that Kirishima saved time and time again seemed more interested in his fiery best friend. Rushing over to try and give him love and praise, which was often rebuked with fury. Ground Zero treated everyone like crap and they still idolised him. What about Red Riot?

“Uh- I bought you this.” He held up the flower in his hands, wrapped in delicate red sugar paper, the colour contrasting with the dark purple, almost black petals. They seemed to almost glitter in the bright light streaming out of your apartment and illuminating the sidewalk.

“T-thanks?” You were caught off guard as you took the flower from his hands, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this flower before.” 

You held the to the light, turning it slightly to see the way the petals glistened, lifting it to your face, like you always did as you inhaled the scent. The petals brushing against your nose as your eyes fluttered shut, your body starting to feel weak as you released the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, almost stumbling back as you pressed your forearm against the door frame, trying to keep yourself upright.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kirishima’s strong arms wound around your waist, holding you against his strong body as you involuntarily leaned into him, immediately feeling weak as you tried to stutter words.

“I- I don’t know?” You couldn’t hold yourself up, your mind becoming hazy as you tried to work out what was happening to you, “What is this?” 

Your body felt warm, a dull ache beginning to throb in your core as you felt your heartbeat increase, trying to push yourself away from the hardwood and instead falling face first into Kirishima’s firm chest. 

“I’ve got you, babe. I’ll look after you.” Kirishima lifted you into his strong arms, caging your body against his as he stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him with his foot, the flower now lay forgotten on the floor.

“Red Riot-” You whined as your hands weaved around his neck, avoiding his red gears as you pulled yourself against him. Burying your head into the curve of his shoulder as you inhaled his scent.

“Yeah, baby. That’s me-” He couldn’t help but let his fingers slip underneath the baggy shirt you were wearing, squeezing the round cheeks of your ass as he felt your body grind into him, pressing your cunt against his crotch as he carried you inside your house, seeking out your bedroom.

“I need you.” You whimpered, your hands slowly beginning to stroke along his exposed chest, mapping out the curve of his muscles as he finally found your bedroom, leaving the door open as he walked towards your bed. 

The sound of those words slipping from your lips had Kirishima groaning low in his throat. He couldn’t even begin to think of how much he’d wanted to hear you say them to him, how many times he’d imagined how they’d sound leaving your lips. And now as he finally heard them, it was unlike anything else, an indescribable feeling of euphoria and desire coursed through his veins. His lips immediately found yours and brought you into a passionate kiss, pouring out the weeks of feelings as he was finally able to touch you how he really wanted.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? So perfect.” He whispered against your lips as you began to grind yourself against him, pressing your crotch against his own as he swore.

“I need you, Red Riot. Please-” You whimpered, your fingers dancing along his chest towards his belt, tugging at the bright red ‘R’ that sat at the middle, obviously struggling to unbuckle it in your haze.

“It’s okay, Princess. You’ve got me, yeah? I’m here-” He cooed, his own calloused hands immediately trailing along the exposed skin of your inner thighs, trailing higher as he slipped the Ground Zero shirt you wore up further. Vermilion eyes finally taking in the sight of the panties you wore. His fingers instantly tracing along the pink lace along the hem as he noticed the stain against the crotch, darkening the white material as you ground yourself against him. 

Of course you wanted him, look at how wet you were. You’d probably been playing hard to get for the last few weeks to test him, mentioning his best friend like some sort of challenge to try and make him jealous and rile him up so something like this happened.

“Please-” You whimpered beneath him, your hips grinding against his touch as he dragged his knuckles along your clothed slit, feeling how damp the fabric had become.

Kirishima hissed at the sensation, putting more pressure against his hand as he watched you writhe against him, taking in the flustered expression on your face, your cheeks flushed and your hair messy as you stared down at him with glassy eyes. His own eyes once again drifting down to the unwelcome reminder that you were wearing Ground Zero merchandise. He needed to get it off you, you didn’t belong to Bakugou. You were his.

Kirishima moved his hands to the hem of your shirt, hardening his fingers as he ripped the material along the middle, the picture of Ground Zero now ripped in half as the material slipped away from your body, exposing your naked chest to his prying eyes. You looked so perfect. Drinking in the sight of your naked chest as he allowed his hand down to palm your breast, squeezing it between his fingers as he watched you arch against the bed, your nipple hardening under his touch.

“Princess, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Kirishima tugged his gears off his shoulders, letting them drop to the hardwood floor with a clunk as he hovered over you, both his hands now massaging your round mounds, his thumbs brushing against your pebbling nipples as he cooed down at you.

“You’ve wanted this for just as long as me, haven’t you? I knew it-” He murmured, his mouth moving to capture yours in another intense kiss. His tongue immediately forced its way between your parted lips and his hands moved down to tug your hips against your own, grinding his clothed erection against your core as you moaned into the kiss, your entire body feeling warm. You couldn’t think of anything except the dull throb between your thighs, desperate for any kind of relief.

“Please, Kirishima-” You whimpered, arching your hips off the bed to try and brush your crotch against his again, trying to create a dull friction between you both as you focused on your pleasure. 

“Eijirou. Call me Eijirou-” Kirshima murmured against your lips, his fingers pressing against your pelvis before slipping lower, stroking against your clothed slit.

“Eijirou-” You repeated obediently, the sultry tone in your voice had Kirishima grunting against you, a trail of drool connecting your lips as he pulled away, moving to press sloppy kisses against your jaw as he stroked teasing circles against your clit.

“Yeah, baby? What do you want? Tell me.” Kirishima’s fingers dipped inside the hem of your panties, tugging them down your thighs as he reluctantly moved back from your body to pull them off your legs. Your arms immediately moved to try and bring him back towards you, missing his weight against your body as you whined.

“Need you-” You pouted childishly as Kirishima focused on your sopping panties, his fingers rubbing against the crotch as he saw just how wet you’d become. Your slick glistened against the fabric as he brought them up to his nose to inhale your scent, groaning against them as he felt his cock twitch underneath his trousers. 

“You’ve got me baby, I ain’t going anywhere.” Kirishima shoved your panties into his trouser pocket before moving to unbuckle his belt, your fingers moving to tug at it to try and get him to move with more urgency. 

“Shhh, Princess. Let me make you feel good first, yeah?” Kirishima’s large palms wrapped around your thighs to pull your ass up off the bed as he lowered himself towards your cunt. Your folds glistening with your slick as he breathed in your scent, his warm breath fanning your sex as he took in the sight of you. Trying to commit everything to memory as he watched you grind yourself against him, your hands weaving into his spikes, the gel softer after a long shift at work as some of his hair began to fall into his face.

“You really want me now, don’t you?” He cooed, his lips pressing soft kisses against the apex of your thighs, dangerously close to your slit as you tried to get him to touch you where you needed it most. Your body felt as though it was on fire, a heat burning inside you as his tongue trailed along your labia, red eyes watching your reaction. This was everything he’d been thinking about and more, you were so intoxicating and now you were his, all his.

Kirishima laid the pad of his tongue flat as he licked a long stripe along your slit, the sensation making you keen as you ground your hips against him, trying to get him to repeat the action as you made an attempt to squeeze your thighs around his head. He groaned as he savoured the taste of you, unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined. You were irresistible and he couldn’t get enough. His grip on your legs tightening as he dove back between your folds, moving to lap against your clit. The sensation made you shudder as your fingers tightened against his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp as he sucked your nub between his lips, lashing his tongue against it as he worked your body against his. 

“Such a good girl for me, so perfect.” He mumbled against your cunt, his fingers slipping between your thighs to press against your tight entrance. Slipping one of his thick fingers inside your wet heat as he felt your inner walls clenching around him. Immediately thinking about how his cock would feel sliding into you. He curled his finger as he focused his movements against the spongy spot inside you, continuing to suck your clit as he worked you towards your release. Your legs quivered as you tried feebly to grind yourself against his face. Once he’d stretched you out enough he added a second finger, slowly scissoring them inside you as he curled them both towards the same spot, trying to work you towards your release.

“You like that, yeah?” He hummed around your clit, sending pleasurable vibrations throughout your core, “No one else makes you feel like this, right?”

“No,” You weren’t even sure you were listening to his words, white hot pleasure surging through you as your toes began to curl, feeling your climax swiftly approaching.

“Cum for me, baby.” Kirishima felt your tight cunt begin to clench around his fingers, “Cum all over my face.”

“Eijirou!” You called out his name as your orgasm ripped through you, body quivering as his grip against you tightened, stopping you from bucking away as his fingers continued to pump inside your tight cunt.

“Shit, that’s it, baby. Cum for me.” Kirishima moved his mouth back to watch you come undone because of him, your slick dribbling down his chin as he crudely licked his lips, watching as you trembled beneath him, “Such a good girl for me.”

You whined when he pulled his fingers from your tight cunt, missing the contact as your inner walls continued to flutter around nothing. He brought his slick coated digits to your lips as he pressed against your lower lip, your tongue slipping out to wrap around them as you sucked your release from them. Kirishima pressed down against the pad of your tongue as he moved them further inside your mouth, feeling you gag slightly when they neared the back of your throat.

“Fuck,” The sound of you gagging around his digits had his cock twitching in his pants, desperate to feel you wrapped around him. 

He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d pictured this exact moment, having you ready and willing beneath him, trying to engrave your blissful face to his memory so he could cherish this forever. If he had to bring you one of those flowers every day for the rest of his life he would, if it meant seeing you like this every time.

“Eijirou-” You slurred around his fingers, the sound of his name leaving your lips had him breaking out of his thoughts. Slowly slipping his fingers from your lips he wiped your saliva against his trousers, wiping your slick of his mouth with the back of his hand as he moved to tug his trousers and boxers down his thighs enough to free his aching cock, the head already an angry reddish colour and oozing with pre-cum as it bounced towards his pelvis. His palm wrapping around his length to give himself a teasing pump as your eyes focused on his size.

“Gonna make you feel so good, yeah?” Kirishima stroked the tip of his cock along your wet folds, coating the head with your slick as he nudged against your puffy clit, watching the way your body reacted to him. Unsure whether it was still the aphrodisiac or you really felt this way for him.

“Please, Eijirou. I need-” You trailed off, feeling him pressing himself against your entrance.

“You need what? Tell me, baby, what you need.” Kirishima teased, breaching your tight walls with the tip of his cock, feeling you squeeze around him as he waited for your response, pulling back slightly as he watched your lips curve into a pout.

“Your cock.” You tried to move your thighs around his waist, trying to use your legs to pull him into you, “Please-”

Kirishima groaned at the alluring sound of your voice, the words he’d longed to hear from you for so long as he slowly began to ease himself deeper inside you, inner walls clenching around him perfectly as his cock stretched out your tight cunt. He stilled inside you for a moment to calm his body down, you felt so perfect and he didn’t want to lose it too early as he tried to steady his breathing and calm himself down. You just looked so perfect underneath him, so eager and willing.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” You groaned, your body felt like it was on fire, desperate for him to start moving inside you as you tried to buck your hips against his, “So hot.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Kirishima pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against your cheek, “But it feels good, right?”

You nodded your head childishly as he began to move inside you, slowly moving his hips back as his cock was pulled from your tight cunt, the prominent veins dragging against your inner walls perfectly before he pushed himself back in. Your hands slipped around his back to cling to him as he began a steady pace inside you, your nails leaving welts against his skin as you drug them down his back.

“So much better than Ground Zero, aren’t I?” Kirishima grunted, increasing his pace as he moved your thighs above his forearms, pressing you down onto the bed as his balls slapped against your ass with each roll of his hips.

“Yes, Eiji.” Your eyes rolled back slightly when he hit the same spot inside you, Kirishima now focusing each thrust to the same area to try and get you to come undone against him. Each rut of his hips had his ‘R’ belt buckle slapping against your thigh, leaving a dark mark in its wake that was slowly bruising. A low throb of pain that only heightened your senses further, making you focus on the intense pleasure between your thighs.

“Who’s your favourite Pro-Hero, Princess?” Kirishima murmured in your ear, his breath fanning against your cheek as he pressed his chest against yours.

“R-Red Riot.” You felt tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes with the intensity of his thrusts, each motion had him pressing against your spongy inner wall in the most incredible way, your climax swiftly approaching as you felt the coil inside you already threatening to snap.

“Yeah? And who fucks you this good?” Kirishima groaned at the sound of his hero name leaving your lips so sinfully, you were perfect. His teeth latched on to your jugular as he bit down, a coppery taste filling his mouth as he began to suckle your skin, intent on leaving a mark.

“Red Riot.” Tears began to slip down your temples and onto your pillow as he plowed into you with vigour.

“That’s right, baby. Ain’t no one else gonna make you feel this good, huh?” Kirishima moved one of his hands down between your connected bodies, giving you the chance to let your thigh fall to the bed, twitching from the uncomfortable position as he hardened the tip of his finger, pressing it against your puffy clit as he began to rub sloppy circles against it, “You’re all mine.”

The admission paired with the way he was abusing your body had you crying out, screaming out his name as you came all over his cock. Your vision hazy as you gasped for air, the alluring fog around your senses slowly beginning to clear as you blinked, trying to make out the man thrusting into your slick.

“Good fuckin’ girl, Princess. God, you look so perfect cumming all over my cock.” You clung to his body as you felt his pace increase, your tight walls quivering around him as he continued to grind into you, greedily searching for his own release.

“Kirishima?” You mumbled, your head throbbing as the man above continued to grind into your tight cunt.

“Gonna cum inside your pretty little pussy, yeah?” He grunted, his thrusts becoming more sporadic as his cock began to twitch inside you, “Gonna stuff you full of my cum.”

Kirishima felt his climax surge through him as he gave a few more hard thrusts, his eyes rolling back as he came undone, burying himself inside you to the hilt as he emptied himself inside you. White hot spurts of cum coated your inner walls as he grunted your name, your cunt continued to clench around him as he rode out his orgasm. His lips already peppering gentle kisses against your face as he stayed buried deep inside your folds, savouring the moment for as long as he could.

When he pulled out, you found yourself feeling oddly empty, his cum spilling out of your fluttering walls and sticking against your thighs uncomfortably as he flopped down beside you on the bed, his trousers and underwear still hung around his thighs as he pulled you against his body, placing your head on his chest as he wrapped a possessive arm around you.

“Kirishima?” You mumbled, tears freely flowing down your cheeks as they dampened his pectoral, your eyelashes trying to blink the moisture away, “What-”

“Shh,” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he tightened his grip around your waist, “I’ll treat you better than anyone, Princess. Just you wait and see-”

You didn’t know what to say, how to reply as you lay there in Kirishima’s arms, trying to unscramble your thoughts, recollecting your memories of what had happened. Your eyes glanced around the room before another flash of red caught your eyes. A guilty feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach as you stared at the bouquet of red roses you’d received earlier that day, the pretty flowers sitting on top of your dresser, remembering that the note attached read ‘G.Z.’

[queen-dahlia]

Hey (●’◡’●)ﾉ

I'm Dahlia, forever 23 y/o. Idk how to interact with others without being awkward (if I didn't respond to you or so it's bc idk what to say but I really appreciate you talking to me xDD)

🔞 Blogs with no age in their bio/pinned post will be blocked. 🔞

To my new followers, I'm doing bot purge at least every after 2 weeks.

If your blog has your age in it but no reblogs (and more on likes), I will still block you.

Masterlist

My reblogs are from the ikemen series, tag games and sometimes from obey me!.

I reblog some posts that contains dark themes so if you don't wanna see any of these tags, I suggest you to block the tag dahlia's poison ♡

#tw: yandere tw:noncon #tw: dubcon #tw:coercion #tw: death #tw: rape #tw: drugging #tw: gaslighting tw: murder #breathplay tw: body dysmorphia tw: self-loathing #tw: abuse tw: violence tw: groping tw: emotional manipulation tw: knifeplay tw: degradation

I DO NOT condone any of these IRL! Just in fictions

Don't wanna see any spoilers? Filtered tags:

#ikeprince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #ikeprince spoiler #ikeprince jp #ikeprince translation #ikeprince epilogue smut #ikeprince event smut

[thewheezingwyvern]

Wyvern’s Masterlist

This will be a collection of all my non ask related pieces for BNHA! I will try to update this as I go! Image is from Unsplashed  the bad editing was done by me! Please note I write Pro Hero!AU. Meaning all the 1A peeps have graduated U.A and are off doing their own hero thing!

Aizawa Shouta

Venomous - Smut, tw: dubcon

Monochrome - SFW, tw: depression

Skylines - Smut

A Heat to Rival Galaxies - Smut tw:dubcon

Shinsou Hitoshi

Silver Linings - Smut

Hemlock Kiss - Smut

Ambrosia - Smut Tw:dubcon

Midoriya Izuku

A Spoonful of Corruption - Smut, tw:dub/noncon

Bakugou Katsuki

Tease! - Smut

Say My Name - Smut

Summer Sun - Spicy

Todoroki Shouto

Pitch Perfect - Smut

Todoroki Enji

Quid Pro Quo - Smut, tw:dubcon/sexual blackmail

Dabi

Gancanagh - Smut, tw:noncon, DARK FIC

Kirishima Eijirou & Todoroki Shouto

(SERIES) Pocket of Sunshine Part one [Spicy] - Part two (WIP)

Kirishima Eijirou & Bakugou Katsuki

Takeout and Cuddles - Fluff

Aizawa Shouta & Shinsou Hitoshi

Salt Lines - Smut

Bakugou Katsuki & Shinsou Hitoshi

Biohazard (Chapter 1 -smut-) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3)