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vampireistic · 3 days ago

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failed replaced!MC AU

ཐི synopsis: diavolo has sent down a brand new human exchange student! one that, unfortunately, seems to be very keen on stealing all the limelight for themselves…with such pathetic results it’s almost endearing.

ཐི feat. demon bros

ཐི warnings: mentions of blood/injury, second person

ཐི a/n: yanked this idea from @squeakyducky ! ٩( ᐛ )و named the human exchange student “notus” after the greek god of the south wind because in the comic the MC is called “zephyr” after the god of the west wind (not directly in opposition of one another in mythology but i through it would be fitting). + also this is kinda long…(;_;)

You weren’t upset about having a new human exchange student, no-one really was, but just the gut feeling that Diavolo was going to throw you in as their guide was really starting to irk you (having to deal with several argumentative debate-lords thirsty for your attention doesn’t give you much energy to deal with newbies).

Who knew though? Maybe this was exactly what you needed; a break from all the fantasy in the world for a touch of realism. A touch of home.

However, soon as that portal twinkled to reveal a rather attractive human figure bursting with confidence, your latent arcane abilities smelled trouble. But then again, you were rarely right about first glance opinions on people, maybe this was just another instance?

Ok, well, when you tried going up to introduce yourself you were met with a glare so maybe you weren’t so wrong after all. Benefit of the doubt, you repeat to yourself. You remember being particularly snappy to people within your first arrival - it’s natural instinct! I mean the brother’s also threatened to eat you on the first day here, perhaps they’re just naturally standoffish.

“This is Notus, our newest human exchange student! Please be sure to give them a warm welcome.” Diavolo’s voice boomed across the council hall, eyes gleaming with excitement. Like the first time, the brothers introduce themselves one by one, each a little more on edge than the last - maybe they felt that weird energy too?

Whatever, you pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and took on the role as the newest babysitter for a human that seemed to have a much unnecessary distance while walking next to you.

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It started off fine:

Occasional misplacement of your items; an untied shoelace that makes you trip (with Mammon getting a heart attack as he pulls you up by your wrist); messing up an elixir you were sure that you measured correctly; and opening your bag to find your homework gone.

Childish antics that you tried your best to push blame onto either your own forgetfulness or a misplaced prank that was meant to mess with Lucifer. But somehow, it got so much worse - and that little demonic human decided to finally take fault of their pranks by flaunting it off with pride.

“Oh, MC?” Notus caught your attention with a double tap on your shoulder. “Did you enjoy the nature reserve?” Mammon tilted his head to the side, confusion scrunching his face as he looked over at you.

“It was really lame, Thirteen would’ve done better.” Of course you were not referring to an actual excursion, no, you mean the wild animals that had magically found themselves a snuggly home in your bed as well as the plethora of Devildom-specific deadly mushrooms and herbs that replaced your old plant pots.

“Hah? What are you two yappin’ about?” Mammon huffed, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of this big secret that you two seemed to share. Notus smugly cuddled up to him, arms wrapping around his bicep a little too tight. “Oh it’s nothing! Just a little…gift, I got MC as a thank you for being such a great guide!”

“Oi! How come I never got anythin’ from ya when I had to babysit?” His brows furrow as he clearly attempts to, rather nicely, shrug off the unwanted attention. This is the first time you’ve seen Mammon look so visibly uncomfortable - clearly oblivious to such a fact, Notus continued snuggling themselves closer, trailing their fingers up and down Mammon’s arm.

Of course, you ended up telling all of this Lucifer, to which he implemented a special spell on your lock so no sneaky human that’s barely acquainted with magic could unlock, with the reassurance that if these “pranks” and unwanted behaviours escalate, it would be taken to Lord Diavolo directly.

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Mammon was an obvious first victim for this weird power trip of a game - he’s as kind as a lamb and just the teeniest bit dumb (lovingly so, you reassure him) - but somehow the antics got more assertive and the targets much more hazardous. Satan. Honestly at this point, all you could feel was pity as you sat in the living room, nose buried in a book that Solomon had instructed you to study.

Notus had lived alongside you for a little over two weeks now, and while those small pranks continued, this is the first time you’ve seen them take on an “opponent” that would be way too much to chew. Sliding onto the couch with a careless saunter, Notus cozied themselves up into a cushion right near Satan’s arm, their breath basically ghosting over his neck. His face twitched.

“What?” Satan scowled, a face you haven’t seen in a while crunching his usually stoic expression to a frown.

“Sataan, can you please help me study? I’m struggling in Seductive Speechcraft and need a bit of…” their hand awkwardly inches closer to his hair, “guidance.”

“Go find a book or ask your lecturer.” He aids somewhat clamly, before that mask slips off momentarily to threaten them: “Don’t bother me, you’ll regret it.”

Well, that ended quicker than you expected. Guess even the ever so bold exchange student cowers at the icy glare from the Avatar of Wrath? You can’t help but giggle from where you sat, to which Notus immediately looks up for, facing twisted in an ugly scowl.

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After the failure that didn’t even really begin that was the day before, Notus went for someone much more gullible and easy to please. The favourite orange-haired glutton. Offering him a massive, drool-worthy sponge cake from the human world that they swear, “MC asked me to deliver!” He wasted no time in scarfing down the citric frosting soon as that familiar melodic sound of your name hit his ears.

Beelzebub isn’t known to be someone who’s reluctant to not eat things - unless it’s Mammon’s or Solomon’s sacrilegious cooking - but in this case he wished he could control himself when it came to things that look and smelt promising. Because soon as that icing coated his tongue, his belly grumbled with a heinous rage. Not one born from hunger, no, but rather nausea. Thankfully, Beel’s a big dude who can handle pretty much anything, so it’s not like whatever poison or foul-tasting potion that was slipped between the buttercream did him any damage (apart from ruining his mood), but nonetheless, he felt horrible and got a lengthy scolding from Belphie to boot.

He doesn’t blame you, you might’ve just messed up somewhere and that’s ok! Beel sets the rest of the cake aside with a little warning label that it made him feel ill and if it did him, it could probably kill anyone else, before scurrying off to find an actual bite to eat. Guilt did gnaw at him for a while because, normally, he’s easily able to eat anything you make since you make it with so much love! But Beel can also recognise foul play when he sees it and also comfortably assess that the icing used wasn’t mixed in the way you do it.

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These little instances stopped for a while, which made you foolishly believe that perhaps they learnt their lesson and decided to turn in for the better. Notus manages to surprise you once again - instead of targeting the brothers, the attention comes back to you. The original plan was; conjure up a curse on your pillow that forces you to have perpetual nightmares, which henceforth makes you irritable and hopefully slip up in front of the brothers, preferably make you so grouchy that you say something irredeemable.

What factor Notus failed to account for is the fact the brothers also LOVE your room, and a person who specifically loves stealing shit from you is Belphegor, who so unfortunately kidnapped that one pillow ridden with a curse while stumbling into your room with a drowsy head.

The House of Lamentation isn’t known for being quiet, so the bickering downstairs over breakfast overwhelmed the space per usual, but soon as those thumps of heavy footsteps echoed down the flight of stairs connected to the twin’s room - the house went eerily silent. An overly irritated Belphie ghosts into the room with darker eyebags than normal, his face hauntingly pale with a vein popping from his forehead, body limply dragging itself.

Notus felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up as Belphie saunters behind them, looming over like an owl would a mouse before growling: “Do you always ruin the things you touch, or is this a hobby?” Belphie may be the youngest and therefore the weakest, but when it comes to anything dream and curse related, he will know exactly who’s behind it. And if you hadn’t taught him the slightest bit of mercy, he was sure Notus’ skin would serve Asmodeus as a nice handbag.

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Speaking of the jewel Asmodeus, Notus’ technique was much more…social sabotage based. Spreading a vile rumor around RAD that you made a disparaging comment about Asmodeus’ character was a sure fire way to get some sort of hate train going. Rumours spread fast around RAD, especially when concerning one of the Devildom’s most infamous partygoers, after all - and the drama was sure to escalate when the oddly beloved MC was involved. Notus devilishly giggled to themselves, before knocking on Asmodeus’ room, hands clasped together in faux prayer.

The door swings open to reveal Asmo adorned with silver jewellery that coiled together like moonlight kissed webs, earrings curling into shiny heart shaped crystals that he seemed to still be putting in. With a raise of a brow he smiled politely: “Yes, hon?”

“I saw the awful things MC said about you! I’m so sorry…you must be going through so much pain,” Notus sniffles, that drama class they took back in Year 9 really paying off for once. “If it’s any consolation I think you’re amazing…I mean even all your jewellery know looks like it was practically designed with your image in mind, it’s so glorious!”

Guess they took Satan’s advice after all.

Asmo is kind. Somewhat - ish…But not when it comes to people that use cheap tricks against his beloveds. Sure, the flattery was great, but appreciation is always better when it’s genuine and sincere, specifically your praise was something his vain heart sought afer. “Aw dear,” Asmodeus cooed, hands cupping Notus’ face gently, an act that makes them smile a little unnervingly. “If you knew me at all you’d know I designed these, quite recently in fact.”

Shit.

Notus felt their face heat up in embarrassment, hands suddenly clammy with sweat. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t feel so great to be caught in a scorpion’s tail. “Sweetie,” he laughs, patting Notus’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “You could never turn me against MC. They’re real, and you’re just…trying too hard, aren’t you?”

The grip on Notus’ face suddenly tightens, that orange hue in Asmodeus’ eyes tinting a more saturated shade. “Feel free to say whatever you wish about me, but utter another word about my MC, and I’ll drain your marrow and leave your bones bare of sinews.”

A not so nice reminder that bloodlust is still a form of lust.

That backfired spectacularly. Instead of you getting bombarded with hate and being shred apart in anything you posted, it was the newest exchange student that was the prime highlight of what desperation and pathetic self-esteem looked like. Comments ranged from anything like:

“Lord…this is just embarrassing for them lol”

“thanks for the tutorial on social suicide <3”

“an attempt was made…but it should’ve been with a rope.”

Much to you and the brother’s greatest dismay, the forum that was freely spouting random comments about the situation was gradually shut down under Diavolo’s leadership. He did find it the teeniest bit funny though…

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In naming pathetic self-esteem, a particular water dweller comes to mind: Leviathan. He was going to be a tricky one to lure (said in a hopeful manner as if the others weren’t total failures). Not particularly because he’s the third oldest, making his raw power single-handedly capable of wiping Notus away from existence. No, it was the depressing fact that he’s a recluse that seethes to himself whenever you giggle at a joke someone other than him has made.

Although, they did manage to misuse his social awkwardness to their advantage - by acting shy and nervous as they sweetly ask if they can also join the gaming session with you and him. Levi chose a multiplayer dungeon crawler, the kind where cooperation is key — and where you certainly have excelled before. Notus, however, had other plans.

Small, inconsequential mistakes didn’t bother Levi too much…you and him were good enough for the time being, but by level, these “mistakes” of theirs just spiralled uncontrollably. Taking up important loot meant for you, and even using rare healing potions on themselves at the wrong time, leaving your character on the brink of death.

“Oh no!” Notus gasped, hand to their mouth. “I didn’t mean to—uh, sorry, Levi! I guess I’m just not used to such a complicated game.” They glanced slyly at you, a smug grin creeping onto their face.

Levi frowned, his tail twitching with irritation. “It’s not that complicated,” he muttered. “You just...have to listen.” You don’t even remember when he switched into his demon form, but you can somewhat presume it was around the second the first whine gasped from their lips.

Despite their blunders, Notus managed to turn the situation into a chance for attention, constantly praising Levi in exaggerated tones. “Wow, Levi, you’re so good at this game! I mean, you basically carried us, right?” They laughed, shooting another smug glance your way. “MC must feel so lucky to have someone like you showing them the ropes.”

 Levi blinked, looking between Notus and you. His face flushed, but not in the usual embarrassed way—it was frustration. “What are you even talking about?” he snapped. “MC doesn’t need me to ‘carry’ them. They’re actually good at this!”

Notus tried to backtrack, laughing nervously. “Oh, sure, sure! I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

“Just stop.” Levi's voice was uncharacteristically firm. His eyes darted to you, softening. “MC doesn’t need someone like you pointing out their skills. They’ve already proven themselves. Unlike, uh, certain people who don’t even know how to play.”

The match ended shortly after, with Levi muttering about how “toxic noobs ruin games.” He didn’t invite Notus back for another session.

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Lucifer’s patience had worn thinner than a threadbare string. The complaints from his brothers about Notus's antics had escalated from minor annoyances to full-blown disruptions of their routines. Asmodeus couldn’t walk down the hallway without Notus latching on to him, Leviathan’s game nights had been interrupted by bizarre "accidental" server crashes, and even Belphegor muttered in frustration about charms slipping into his blankets to make him "dream of Notus."

Through it all, you have endured the worst of it — every petty prank, sabotage attempt, and unwelcome spell aimed at undermining your place in the Devildom. You’ve handled it with your usual grace, brushing off bruised egos and minor inconveniences with an easy smile. But this time, Notus had gone too far.

Self efficacy is quite the funny theory - the more you believe in yourself, the more likely you are to succeed. The more successes you have, the better your confidence. So how come even without that, Notus seemed to be as determined as ever to ruin your mood?

The prank seemed harmless at first—a minor tripwire spell meant to tangle your legs and leave you stumbling in embarrassment. But Notus, in their reckless desperation to make you look bad, underestimated the strength of the curse. When the trap activated, you didn’t just trip - you were violently flung forward, crashing into a jagged edge of a chair (there’s too many of them in the House of Lamentation as you just got to personally establish).

The sound of breaking wood reverberated through the house. You hit the floor hard, crimson spilling from a deep gash on your arm where wood had pierced skin. Placing your fingertips on the gush of blood pooling around the scratches, your hands webbed with red iron.

Lucifer arrived almost immediately, his presence a storm brewing in the hall. His brothers, frozen in stunned silence, stood back as he knelt to examine you. His gloved hands trembled faintly as he carefully removed the shards and inspected the various wounds that differentiated in size and depth.

Notus tried to deflect, stammering about how it was just a joke gone wrong, their confidence cracking under Lucifer’s piercing glare. “I-I didn’t mean for it to—MC is just so dramatic, they—”

“Silence.”

Lucifer’s single word was sharper than a blade, and the room fell into an oppressive silence. His wings, usually tucked away, unfurled slightly — a stark warning of the fury he struggled to contain. He rose to his full height, towering over Notus, his face a mask of cold fury.

“You’ve been a disruption from the moment you arrived, but this? This is beyond forgiveness.”

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Notus didn’t learn their lesson, of course. Their jealousy burned too brightly to let them stop. But this time, you’ve sincerely had had enough, and with Thirteen’s help, you concocted a poetic dose of karmic justice mingled with a touch of the classics.

Diavolo was long informed of the incident involving you previously, and further filled in on all the previous attempts of ruining both your reputation and relationship with your family. A little meeting in the RAD council room was in due order - one which all of the affected were invited for a silly show.

Lucifer stood impatiently next to a stone-faced Diavolo. You would find it slightly threatening if you didn’t know what was going to happen in just a few moments. Thirteen sat next to you, swinging back and forth on a chair as she grinned at you with every wavering gaze at one another.

And like moth to a flame, blazing with both frustration and smugness, Notus strolled on in. Well, I say stroll - I mean struggle with opening the door before they accidentally put too much pressure on the handle, leading to the doors gushing open with a far swing, and the buckets utop the bar to drop down like catharsis.

A greedy sorcerer from sorcerer’s society that just so happened to notice you when you came in one day with a few of the brother’s and Solomon the Wise himself - Notus couldn’t bare the idea that a little thing like you could swoop in and charm them so easily.

Now covered in a disgusting, webbed display of pig’s blood and some sticky consistency of water mixed with honey, Notus simply stands there, allowing defeat to settle in while the crescendo of giggles cuts deep into their pride.

“Alright alright, I’ve got enough of a laugh out of this,” you clap your hands, whispering an incantation that forces a gush of water to rain down upon them, washing away the weird concoction that coated their skin.

“Aw what, that’s no fun lol.” Leviathan pouts in the background.

“Whaaat!! What a bore…” Mammon grumbled to himself, looking away from the sopping wet dog once his eyes accidentally caught theirs.

“MC…” Notus sniffled pitifully, looking up at you through tear-stained lashes.

“Yes yes, I know,” you sigh, hands on your hips as you try your best to articulate your reasoning for this baseless morality. “This isn’t forgiveness or anything, the stuff you’ve done warrants actual apologies but hey, I’ve had a few of the demons in here attempt to kill me before,” Belphegor coincidentally looks away, “a few jabs at my reputation with failing results was honestly a little funny.”

Notus’ eyes glimmer with shiny stars and fat blobs of tears as they murmured a very simple:

“Fmnf…I love you.”

“…”

“Huh?”

#also kept exchange student GN bc…it feels weird to make them either or lol #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #obey me nb #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader #belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 8 hours ago

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1. A Soldier's Christmas Wish

Masterlist > Soldier in Ice

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky is feeling a little down, haunted by the ghosts of his past. He writes a letter to Santa expressing his feelings.

Word Count: 4.1k

Bucky stood sullenly outside the store, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he leaned against the frosted glass enclosing the front of the store. There was a bright warm glow that shone on him from the ocean of twinkling Christmas lights which had been strung across the ceiling of the mall, making the shadows in the crevices of his mind seem even darker than usual. Early Christmas shoppers bustled past him, their arms laden with bags of shopping, their faces lit with laughter and the warmth of their festive surroundings.

And then there was him.

Despite sincere attempts to conceal their gaze, Bucky could feel the weight of their stares on him. The way they would cast furtive, poorly hidden glances in his direction. He didn’t miss the way parents would usher their children across to the opposite side of the walkway. A group of teenagers, clearly high, whispered loudly and pointed at his left hand, their eyes wide as if they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. Some people tried to act natural but skirted around him with the kind of wariness you’d expect to be reserved for a caged polar bear, only there were no bars between them.

Bucky popped the collar of his coat to hide his face, before stuffing his hands into his pockets, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried to hide, they all knew who he was… what he was. It didn’t matter that he had cut his hair or shaved his beard, the glint of vibranium always gave him away. It was almost like people could sense it, his obscure past, the stain of blood that he couldn’t quite wash away. The weight hung over him like a dark cloud. No matter how many times Bucky told himself he was different now, he wasn’t that man anymore, to them, he would always be the Winter Soldier.

Inside the store, you were still perusing the shelves, selecting various items of clothing. He would make out your silhouette through the glass as you held up items of clothing in front of you and inspected them in the mirror. Your melodic voice carried through the large doors, your sweet and lilting laugh echoed in his ears as you chatted with the sales assistant. The sound grounded him, like a lifeline that tethered him to the present.

He pushed himself off the wall, walking up and down the length of the store a couple of times to relieve the feeling of restlessness. He had only come because you had insisted.

“Come on, Bucky. You’ve been cooped up for days. We can get everyone’s Christmas gifts before everyone goes crazy. We’ll grab lunch. It’ll be fun!”

Fun, yeah right! He almost laughed out loud at the thought, but there was no humor in it. His fists curled inside his coat pockets, the thick wool stretching as his grip widened. He wasn’t angry at them, not really. They were only human… just as he had once been, before everything. Before the war, before HYDRA, before… the soldier.

“Bucky?”

Your voice cut through the cacophony in his mind, pulling him out of his brooding thoughts. He turned to see you standing in the ugliest Christmas sweater he had ever laid his eyes on, it was far too big and far too festive for his tastes. But you tilted your head and greeted him with a sheepish smile, holding out your arms, inviting his opinion.

“What do you think? Too much? Or just cozy enough?”

As he stared at you, the harsh whispers, the frightened stares, the way the world saw him, seemed to fade away. The way you looked at him, warmth in your eyes, completely unfazed by the weight he carried, he only saw you. He cleared the frog from his throat, and shrugged lightly, trying to hide the smirk that was forming on his lips.

“Looks good. You can pull off anything.”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “Flattery won’t get you out of carrying my bags, you know?”

The second you turned your head, he dropped his smile, the dark cloud descending back over his brow. Unfortunately, as you went back into the store, you looked back over your shoulder, catching the tightness in his expression and your smile faltered. “Hey, you okay out here?” you asked, gently.

He hesitated. The honest answer was no, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his ghosts. So instead, he nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

But as you vanished into the store again, he found himself wondering if he would ever really mean it. Bucky shifted from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the stares and glances which wafted over him like cold drafts. His eyes wandered, searching for anything to distract himself, and landed on a young boy tugging at his mother’s hand a few feet away.

“Mom, I wanna see Santa!” the boy declared, his high-pitched voice carrying over the clamor of the mall shoppers.

With a weary expression, his mother crouched down in front of her son. “I'm sorry, sweetie,” she said softly, “but we can't do that right now. The line's too long, and we're running really late.”

The boy frowned, his lower lip jutting in a pronounced pout. “How will Santa know what I want if I don't tell him?” he whined.

His mother gently brushed a strand of blonde hair from his eyes and smiled. “How about we write a letter to Santa when we get home? You can tell him everything you want, and we'll make sure he gets it, okay?”

The boy's pout softened as he contemplated her words. “A letter?” he asked. “What is this? The dark ages?”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You write it all down on a piece of paper, and he’ll know. I’ve got some nice stationery you can use. Come on.” His mother held out her hand to him.

The boy still didn’t look convinced, but he gave a disgruntled nod and let his mother take his hand again. As they walked away, their voices faded into the background of holiday music and gregarious shoppers. Bucky watched the pair as they merged into the crowd, his heart filled with a sinking feeling that he couldn’t quite name. He huffed a small laugh under his breath… a letter to Santa. An idea so innocent and filled with hope! He had done that once… a lifetime ago. Back when he was just a kid with wide eyes, scraped knees, and fantastic dreams. He had a vague memory of sitting at the kitchen table with his little sister, Becca. Their mother would allow them both one sheet of paper each for the special occasion and they had been told to make the most of it. They would scribble furiously together, comparing gift ideas before settling on their final choices.

Dear Santa, his letters had started, I’ve been good this year. Please bring Becca a doll, and I’d really like a baseball glove. Thank you!

The memory stung far more than he expected it to. It felt like there was a shard of glass buried deep in his soul. Had there really been a time where he had believed in magic? That little boy was now long gone, buried beneath decades of blood and regret.

What would Santa say if he got a letter from him now? Dear Santa, I’ve been... trying.

He shook his head, forcing himself out of the snowballing of dark thoughts. He wasn’t that kid anymore. He wasn’t sure who he even was anymore. At the end of the day, letters to Santa were for people who still believed in miracles. The sight of you stepping out of the store, holding a small shopping bag in one hand and giving him a dramatic twirl sent a wave of warm washing over him, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Well? How does this look? Or do I have no fashion sense at all?” you teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Bucky blinked before his eyes snapped up to meet your gaze. For a moment, he just stared, your beauty making the heaviness in his chest lift, ever so slightly.

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice soft as he shrugged noncommittally.

“Fine?” you asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “That’s high praise coming from you,” you joked.

When you got no response, you edged closer, peering at his face. “What’s wrong?”

You had that look… the one that said you knew something was wrong even though he wouldn’t say what it was.

He hesitated, looking back over his shoulder to where the mother and son had been standing not long before. “Nothing,” he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. “Just... thinking.”

“Thinking, huh?” you echoed, tilting your head slightly. “About?”

He wasn’t sure if he knew the words to explain how he felt or that they were lodged so far down his throat that you would need to perform the Heimlich maneuver to get them out. So instead of answering, he gestured toward the crowd with a small nod. “Let’s just get out of here.”

As you strolled beside him, your arm entwined with his, he couldn't help but wonder if you had somehow seen through his facade, despite your unspoken questions.

*************************

Your living room of your apartment was filled with the soft glow of fairy lights and the scent of pine from the Christmas tree you and Bucky had been decorating all evening. You had ended your shopping trip by insisting Bucky drive you to the local Christmas tree farm so you could pick out a real tree for your apartment. This had perked up his mood slightly, being outdoors and away from judging eyes. It had been a challenge sneaking the tree up to your place on the third floor, but Bucky had no problems handling the conifer, while you played lookout for the landlord.

It was the first time since your childhood you’d had a real tree, but you wanted your first Christmas with Bucky to be special. Now boxes of ornaments sat open on the floor, their contents scattered as you both carefully picked and chose which ones to hang. The hum of a Christmas playlist filled the air, cheerful and warm, even as Bucky grumbled under his breath about “having to hear Jingle Bell Rock one more time.”

“Okay, I think we’re almost done,” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. The tree looked beautiful. Well, as beautiful as it could be with your slightly mismatched decorations and Bucky’s deliberate placement of a gaudy silver reindeer ornament right at eye level. “Just need to add the star.”

You picked up the golden tree topper, cradling it carefully as you stepped toward the tree. But as you tried to reach up to the very top, you quickly realized one glaring problem - the tree was taller than you anticipated.

“Oh, come on,” you grumbled under your breath. You stood on your tiptoes, but to no avail.

Bucky stood behind you, you heard a deep rumble in his chest as he chuckled. “Need some help, squirt?”

“I’m not short,” you shot at him, glaring over your shoulder. “The tree’s just... tall.”

“Sure, that’s what it is,” he teased, stepping closer. Before you could stop him, he grabbed the star from your hands, holding it above his head.

“Buckyyyy,” you whined, your tone filled with exasperation.

“What?” he asked, his lips twitching into a smirk. “I’m just trying to help.”

“No, you’re just being mean!” You jumped up, trying to grab it, but he just raised his arm higher, the star glinting teasingly in the light.

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted on a big tree,” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Bucky!” You glaring up at him.

“Alright, alright,” he finally relented, though the smirk never left his face. He lowered his arm so you could take back the star. But instead of stepping back, he came even closer, both his hands coming to rest around your waist. “Here,” he said, his voice softening.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he was lifting you up, his strength making the act seem effortless.

“Go on,” he said, tilting his head toward the tree.

You froze for a moment, caught off guard by how close you suddenly were to him, the strength of his hands steadying you. You shook your head a fraction, shaking off the surprise so you could focus on the task at hand. Reaching out, you carefully placed the star at the top of the tree, adjusting it until it sat perfectly.

“There,” you said, smiling as you admired it. “Perfect.”

Bucky set you down on the floor gently, his fingertips lingering at your waist, slipping under your shirt for the briefest moment, before he stepped away. “Looks good,” he said, his voice quieter now as he admired your handiwork.

You looked up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile on his face as he looked at the tree. The lines on his face didn’t seem as deep as they had been, as though the Christmas spirit had crept in to share the burden he carried. There was a softness in his expression that you hadn’t seen all day.

“Thanks for the help,” you said, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“Anytime,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer before he looked back at the tree.

*************************

The apartment was quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that only came late at night when the world outside was asleep and the falling snow absorbed the sounds of far away traffic. The faint glow of the Christmas tree lights spilled into the bedroom through a crack in the door, painting soft shadows on the walls. In the bedroom, you were fast asleep, your breathing steady as you curled into Bucky’s side. Normally having you beside him was enough to calm the storm that raged in his mind every night, plaguing his dreams. Your presence anchoring him to the present and pulling him out of the void that threatened to consume him.

Not tonight.

The darkness crept in like an old adversary, slipping through the cracks in his carefully constructed castle. It wove itself around him, heavy and suffocating, dragging him down into those memories that he desperately wished to forget. He could see the faces of the people he’d hurt, clear as day they flashed through his mind — all the faces, all those lives. He could still hear their screams, still smell the blood, still feel the weight of the weapon in his hands.

Bucky sighed, rolling away from you, slowly as not to wake you. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. The room felt small, too small as the shadows pressed in from all sides despite the glow coming from the living room and the streetlights in the window. He tried to focus on the good things in his life, on you, on Sam. He envisioned the way you smiled at him in the mall, the way you laughed when he teased you about the tree, the way you’d kissed him goodnight and whispered, “I love you.”

But tonight, for some unknown reason, even your light wasn’t enough to chase away the shadows. He stared out of the window, his eyes trying to make out the outline of the windows in the building across the street. They were black, of course, everyone would be asleep. You had stopped closing the curtains because you knew how overwhelming he found the darkness. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he fought against the darkness of the night. And then, out of nowhere, the image of the little boy from the mall popped into his mind. The boy’s hopeful face as he asked his mother how Santa would know what he wanted.

The idea of writing a letter to Santa was absurd. The idea of a grown man, sitting down to write a letter to a mythical figure, now that was laughable. But for some reason the idea was stuck, like a stubborn flame refusing to be snuffed out.

It was probably ridiculous, but wasn’t his entire life lately built on impossible second chances? Maybe... maybe writing it down could help. Not to Santa, exactly… he wasn’t naive enough to think some Christmas miracle could erase everything he’d done. But possibly a confession… maybe the first step was to admit to his crimes. A way to unburden himself of the weight he carried, even if no one else would ever read it.

Would it hurt? No. Could it help? Maybe…

Moving carefully, he slipped out of bed, silently pulling on a hoodie to ward off the draft. He grabbed the journal he kept in the dresser on his side of the bed. The first few volumes contained notes he had jotted down before the Wakandans had removed HYDRA’s programming from his mind. The last two held memories of life after his pardon. Before Steve had left, he had handed Bucky a journal and Bucky had used it, scribbling down his thoughts and memories, his feelings and worries. For his birthday that year, you had gifted him another and he was already half way through it.

He sank into the armchair in the corner of the room by the windows, pulling the blanket you kept on the arm rest over his legs before resting the notebook on his lap. For a moment, he just stared at the blank page, the pen poised in his hand.

Then, slowly, he began to write.

Dear Santa,

I don’t know why I’m even writing this. I’m not sure I even believe you’re out there. Even if you were, I’m not sure you’re listening to people like me… murderers. Maybe this is stupid, but I saw this kid at the mall today, and he was so sure that you would hear him. I remember that there was a time that I believed too.

So I guess that’s why I’m here, writing to someone who probably doesn’t exist… asking for something I don’t deserve.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. I’ve been a good boy? That would be a lie now, wouldn’t it? I’ve been trying though, you can see that right? And I hoped that would count for something at least, right? Maybe not. Maybe it doesn’t do anything to erase all the things I’ve done.

I was something else for so long. Something awful. A weapon they aimed and fired. I did those things, Santa. They weren’t just mistakes or bad decisions. They were unspeakable things. My dreams won’t let me forget, their blood on my hands, their screams, their faces. They haunt me every night. Everyone keeps telling me I wasn’t in control, that someone else was pulling the strings. But does it matter? It was still me. It was always me.

Do you believe in forgiveness, Santa? Some things just feel too big to forgive. But I want to… to believe that I’m more than those things… more than the worst things that I’ve done. Maybe there’s a way to make up for some of it, even just a little?

So I guess this is what I’m asking for. No gift, no miracle, just a chance. A chance to keep trying. A chance to figure out if I can be someone good, someone who doesn’t hurt people anymore. I’m not asking you to take away my past. I know that’s not how this works. I just want to stop feeling like the weight of everything crushing me every time I close my eyes.

Maybe it is too late for me. I don’t know. But if there’s even the smallest bit of hope left, I’m asking for it. Not just for me… but for the people I care about. They deserve better than the broken thing I am.

I want to believe in something again. In people, in hope, in myself. If you’re out there, if you can hear this... that’s all I want. Please.

Yours,

Bucky

His hand holding the pen hovered above the page where he had just signed his name. Bucky stared at the words, the letters blurring as his eyes burned with unshed tears. He let out a shaky breath and closed the journal, setting it aside. And for the first time in what felt like years, the darkness didn’t seem so suffocating. It was still there, lingering at the edges, but the act of putting his thoughts into words had lit a beacon, albeit only a small one.

Bucky slipped back into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Instinctively you nestled closer to him, murmuring something in your sleep. He let himself smile, believing just for a moment, that maybe his wish wasn’t entirely impossible.

*************************

The first rays of dawn flooded through the window, casting a soft golden glow over the bedroom. You stirred, blinking sleepily as you felt the warmth of Bucky’s arm draped over your waist, his face buried in the pillow beside yours. His breathing was deep and steady, but there was a tension in his posture, even in sleep you could see a tightness in his brow, the faint lines of worry etched into his face.

You could tell he’d had a rough night. Carefully, you wriggled out of his grasp, pausing when he stirred slightly. You froze as he took a deep breath before settling again. You tucked the blanket around him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before slipping out of bed. Pulling on your dressing gown, you padded out of the bedroom, your fluffy slippers muffling your steps. The apartment was quiet, save for the hum of the hot water running through the pipes. You decided to let Bucky sleep a little longer. He needed it. Maybe you’d make him pancakes and that chicory coffee he liked so much. Sam had introduced him to it the last time you’d visited his family in Louisiana.

You wandered into the living room, reaching for the plug at the base of the Christmas tree to turn off the lights. As you crouched down, something caught your eye: Bucky’s notebook, lying open on the floor next to the armchair. Normally, he was meticulous about putting his notebooks away, tucking them into the bedside drawer you kept empty for him. But this one had been left out, open on the last page he had written on with the pen nestled between the sheets he had been writing on.

You hesitated. You never invaded Bucky’s privacy, it was a line you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t cross. But the notebook was open, and your gaze caught on the words scrawled across the page in his familiar, slightly jagged handwriting.

“Dear Santa…”

Curiosity tugged at you, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for the notebook, lifting it reverently. You settled back into the armchair, the early morning sun illuminating the page as you began to read. As your eyes raked over the page, your heart ached. Every word was like a window into the parts of Bucky he tried so hard to keep hidden from you; the guilt he carried, the longing for redemption, the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to believe in something good again.

His words were raw, a confession that felt like it had been ripped straight from his soul. He hadn’t written to ask for presents or material things. He’d written to ask for forgiveness. For a chance to keep trying. For hope. You blinked rapidly, your chest tightening as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You knew Bucky struggled with his past, he’d opened up to you about some of it, though never in such detail. But seeing it laid bare like this, seeing how deeply he felt the weight of his actions, broke your heart.

You closed the notebook gently, running your fingers over the worn cover as you sat in silence for a moment. What could you do? How could you help him see that he was already so much more than the sum of his past?

An idea began to form in your mind.

You glanced toward the bedroom, where Bucky was still sleeping, and set the notebook aside. If there was ever a time to show him that miracles (big or small) were possible, it was now.

You rose from the armchair, wiping at your eyes as you headed to the kitchen. Pancakes and coffee were just the beginning of your plan.

Masterlist > Soldier in Ice

@lives-in-midgard @baw1066

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #a soldier's second chance

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dinsbeskar · 5 hours ago

Text

VANESSA

A MASTERPIECE

THAT WAS SO HOT???? AND SHE IS SO FABULOUS??? SUB AND DOM SAURON???? CHEST HAIR MENTION???

I bloody love that gif, like "don't start" is so weirdly hot, it makes me a bit feral tbh

“Dispute about a woman,” he said, leaning his arms against the bars, as you raised your eyebrows. “Don’t start…,” he murmured and his gaze fell down to your hand. “I see you haven't forgotten me. Or the things we did together,” he continued and you rolled your eyes. You hid your hand behind your back, and with it the ring on your finger.

WHOOP WHOOP "DON'T START" WHY DO I LIKE THIS SO MUCH?? WHO CAN SAY???

Oof I love this though, hints at much deeper backstory, sets them up so well, love it!!

“To be honest, it was just a coincidence at first. But when I stepped onto this island and felt your presence, I knew that fate had brought me here. Back to the only woman who was ever able to love me. And maybe, after all these years, she is ready to stand by my side.”

OH GOD OUCH

"The only woman who was ever able to love me" oh god my heart???? Oh god???????

With a snort, you ripped your hand from his power. “I wear this ring to remind me of one thing. That I will never trust the words of a moron like you again.”

AHHHHHHH HILARIOUS, GET STUFFED SAURON 😂😂😂

“To be honest, I'd much rather be alone right now,” you replied, but he didn't seem to care what you wanted. He sat down on the bench opposite you and looked at you with a hungry look. “Believe me, I can tell when someone doesn't want to be alone. And the way you're drinking that wine, you definitely need some distraction,” he explained and you snorted.

Ugh this fucking guy, I was already hoping our man would come along to fuck him up, god I hate kemen 😂

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” the mortal gasped against your lips and you had to control yourself from rolling your eyes. “You better be quiet and keep kissing me,” you replied and your lips collided again. But just as his hands were about to wander down your body, he stopped.

Lmfao I love how she's like, meh go on then, you'll do, but don't fucking speak to me 😂

Or rather, someone ripped him away from you, causing him to stumble backwards into a few barrels that were behind him. “You better get out of here before I kill you,” Halbrand growled menacingly, making Kemen swallow hard. He gave you a last look, before he turned and hurried away.

YES!!! YES!!!!!! LMFAO YES

It's all I want, Halbrand save me from this awful fucking guy

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his clothes while he held your head in his hands. He devoured you completely, just as if he were a starving man. His tongue ran over yours while his other hand clung desperately to your hip.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOH YES QUEEN GET SOME

I love the imagery, it's gorgeous, the way you write is amazing, beautiful and hot at the same time

“Go on, do it. Make me pay for it,” he growled, his voice full of desire, giving you goosebumps. “But you can't deny what your body is telling me so clearly. You're dying to feel me, aren't you?” he continued, his words against your mouth and you pressed him a little harder against the wall.

YES KING PLEASE

Jesus christ we all want him to pay for it, oh godddd

“Because otherwise you would have gone down with me,” he answered, the look in his eyes so honest that you slowly lowered the knife. “You want to hear the real reason I came to Númenor? It's you,” he added, raising his hand to stroke your cheek, but you clasped his wrist before he could touch you.

No no, no no?? My heart??? The emotions??? He was saving her???? Oh goddddd

Your eyes were locked, neither of you able to look away as you took his hand and ran your tongue over the bleeding wound in his palm. The sweet taste of his blood filled your senses and you saw his mouth open in a soft moan.

Oooof this was ridiculously hot 🔥

Soon his hands were everywhere, in your hair, on your ass and your breasts — but you had no intention of letting him take control. In the middle of the kiss you paused and looked up at him with an evil smile. “You really think I'll forgive you that easily?” you asked and he frowned. “I want you to beg. I want you to fall to your knees in front of me and beg for forgiveness,” you continued and his jaw tensed.

BEG FOR FORGIVENESS

A little sub!sauron as a treat, I loved this so much

“Please what?” you breathed and began to massage him through the fabric. “Use your words, deceiver,” you demanded and he growled in frustration at your choice of words.

EEEEEEEEEEEEE I WAS GIGGLING, KICKING MY FEET

“Of all the faces you've ever worn... this is my favorite, my dearest Mairon,” you whispered, slowly starting to move your hand up and down his length.

Same tbh, he is very pretty 😍

“You will be the death of me...” he said and took a step towards you, but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest again, brushing your fingertips through the dark curls growing there.

CHEST HAIR MENTION *AIR HORN BLAST*

"You will be the death of me" is so weirdly romantic, like it's so morbid but so *chef's kiss*

“I would always fall to my knees for you, my love,” he whispered against your lips, gliding to the back of your knee with his rough hand and lifted your leg to his hip.

Oh fucking hell, mother of god, jesus, joseph, and the wee donkey

This had me on the floor, I was done, holy shit

“I have missed you, you have no idea how much. Even when I was nothing more than a mass without a body or a brain, all I could think about was that beautiful face and how much I loved fucking that beautiful little cunt,” he murmured and began to gently kiss up your jaw. “I wanted to marry you. I wanted you by my side. And in the end, I had no choice but to betray you — so I could protect you,” he continued, pressing a kiss just below your ear, the stubble making you shiver. “If I hadn't done that, you would have suffered the same fate as me. And unlike me, you wouldn't have come back.”

I WANT TO BECOME ONE WITH THE SEA

GORGEOUS

DECLARATIONS OF LOVE??? BE STILL MY BEATING VAGINA HEART

It caused your core to clench around his cock and a gasp escaped your lips. Your fingers slid over the lines, which disappeared right after, and his gaze met yours. “You are mine. You always have been,” he said, beginning to move his hips against yours. “You can never escape me.” With that, he pulled out of you before thrusting hard into you again, drawing a frustrated cry from you.

It's the possessiveness for me!!!! The obsession!!!!! The complete and utter devotion!!!! And it's so hot too!!!

“You will never be able to wash me from your soul. And even if I do, I will find you and defile it again, because you are mine.” Your head fell to the side and you breathed his name. “Mine.” Another thrust and a tremor in your body as you met his movement.

*bangs hands on desk* YES YES YES YESSSSS

"I will find you and defile it again" okay?? Please???

Absolutely bloody gorgeous

I'm in love with your writing, you're so talented, that was so beautiful and so hot, I am dead, deceased, transcended this mortal plain 🙌🤌🔥💜

FROM MY SOUL

pairing: halbrand/sauron x female!elf!reader

summary: you were betrayed by your great love sauron a long, long time ago. and when he returned, you want him to pay for what he did.

warnings: 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, jealous!sauron, handjob, oral (female receiving), p in v, rough sex, mentions of sub!sauron but switches to dom!sauron really fast (i couldn’t resist), blood licking, dark!reader

word count: 3k

note: i’m still alive at posting fics! 🙈 i think this is one of my personal favorites and i really hope you’ll like it too. xx also, i wanted to say thank you again, for all your support. it always encourages me so much. <33 and thanks to @sansaorgana for the gif inspiration, it hasn’t left my mind since then. 🤪

this fic is inspired by last night’s mascara by griff

THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST

The air smelled musty as you entered the prison. But besides that disgusting stench, there was something else that caught your attention. A presence so powerful that it was impossible to resist.

“I'll be honest, when I first saw you here, I didn't want to believe it,” you said, the sound of your voice echoing off the walls. There was no reason to be secretive — after all, you were the only ones here.

“Sauron, the Dark Lord, has returned. And imagine, he is in Númenor. I wonder what he wants here?” you continued as you stopped in front of his cell. You knew how much he hated that name and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from saying it.

The man slowly sat up and kept his eyes on the floor in front of him. “You know exactly what I want here,” he said quietly and turned his head in your direction.

You could feel his gaze gliding over your body. Hot and full of desire. “Y/N, it's been a long time,” he continued, standing up to walk towards the bars and into the light of the torches.

Now you could see his face, which looked pretty scratched, he must have gotten into a fight with someone. “Do I want to know why you ended up in this cell?” you asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, which caused a smile on his lips.

“But that's not why you're here, am I right?” you asked, ignoring his words. “What brought you to Númenor?” With that, you stepped closer to him and looked him in the eyes, without any emotion.

There was a brief silence and only the faint rustling of the torches could be heard, then he began to speak. “To be honest, it was just a coincidence at first. But when I stepped onto this island and felt your presence, I knew that fate had brought me here. Back to the only woman who was ever able to love me. And maybe, after all these years, she is ready to stand by my side.”

In another time, his words might have triggered something in you, but now only an unimpressed laugh escaped your lips. “How long did it take you to rehearse that? A century?” you asked and Sauron frowned.

“Believe what you want,” he growled threateningly, his pride hurt by the slight undertone of mockery in your voice. “I’m only telling the truth.”

“Just as it is true that you betrayed me? Betrayed me at the moment when I needed you most? You knew what you were doing when you set the orcs on me out of fear that I might, one day, have more power than you could ever bear,” you spat out the words, but he didn't even blink.

“And yet you still wear that ring,” he noted, raising his hand as you raised yours in the same way. For a moment you stared at the silver band which shimmered in the light of the torches, remembering the moment he had put it on your finger.

It’s you and me against the world.

That was his promise. And he broke it with turning his back to you.

With a snort, you ripped your hand from his power. “I wear this ring to remind me of one thing. That I will never trust the words of a moron like you again.”

With that, you whirled around and left him behind, alone in the cell where he had brought himself into.

You would have loved to plunge your dagger into his chest, but you would have to wait. And patience was a virtue, after all.

The wine tingled as it ran down your throat and you sighed softly. It felt good and distracted you from the fact that your lover was on this island with you. That he was still alive, even though you had thought him dead for so long.

“You look like you could use some company,” a voice said, and when you raised your head, you looked into Kemen’s eyes.

“Oh, yeah? And you want to give me that distraction?” you asked skeptically, raising your eyebrows as you placed the mug on the wooden table.

Kemen just looked you in the eyes as he reached across the table for your hand. You looked down at his fingers that were holding yours and then raised your gaze again to look into his eyes.

A few moments later he was pushing your back against the wall of an alley while he greedily devoured your mouth. It wasn't that you found him attractive. He was a nasty little snake, but in that moment he could give you what you needed and that it was a distraction from the man, who hurt you so many centuries before but still held your heart in his hand.

With a heavy sigh, you wiped your mouth, erasing the feeling of his lips, as you casually pushed yourself away from the wall.

“Now you've chased him away. I just wanted to have a little fun,” you said with a sly smile, which made Halbrand snort.

“Seriously? He's not even attractive. Nor even worthy of you. Besides...” he began, moving closer. “I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you like this.” You could see his eyes darken and you took a step towards him. Your hand went to his chest and you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sweetheart, who can touch me is still my decision. And it's definitely not you,” you said, pushing past him and wanting to leave to follow your toy, but he grabbed your wrist.

“It's you and me against the world,” he said, making you freeze. You closed your eyes, let the words sink in and gathered all your hatred before turning around and shoving him in the chest. “You damn bastard! Do you really think that I will fall for these words again? That I will give myself to you again as if you hadn't ripped my heart out of my chest?”

By now he was standing with his back pressed against the wall and stared at you with a wild look. Your breathing was heavy and you were about to slap him, but instead your mouths collided.

An angry growl escaped your lips as you pulled away from him again, grabbing the dagger from under the skirt of your dress to press it against his throat. “I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me. You promised to give me everything. Instead, you took everything from me. And I will make you pay for that,” you hissed against his lips, but he didn't seem to care at all.

The dagger was still at his throat and he slowly raised his hand. He wrapped it around the blade and pushed it away, causing pitch-black blood to ooze from his hand and drip onto the floor. “You know I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. I wanted you by my side, believe me,” he said and pushed himself away from the wall, forcing you to back away. The blade was still cutting into his skin, but you didn't think about letting it down.

“Then why did you betray me?” you asked him, your voice shaking with suppressed anger.

The dagger fell from your hand and onto the ground as Halbrand's lips crashed against yours again. He groaned as his tongue touched yours again and he could taste his own blood.

Before he could protest, you pushed him back against the wall again and your hand stroked the bulge in his pants. “Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused me? How many times I've wished you were alive so I could be the one to stab a damn dagger into your heart?” you said and Sauron hissed as you applied light pressure to his erection.

You could feel his cock twitching in his pants, desperate for your touch, but you were far from finished.

“I turned my back on the Valar, and yet I begged them to wash you from my soul. Your touches, your kisses, everything that was left of you,” a tear ran down your cheek, “so that I no longer have to bear the pain of your betrayal, but they did not hear me,” you continued, pushing his hand up. Fresh blood had oozed from the wound, but instead of licking it up, you smeared it on the skin of his neck.

You slowly leaned forward, one hand in his hair, pulling his head back. “And here you are and I finally get the chance to take my revenge,” you whispered before sliding your tongue over his neck and licking the blood from his skin.

Halbrand shuddered and gasped as he moved his hips against your body. But you wouldn't give him that release. You wanted to hear him beg for it.

“Please,” escaped his lips and you bit your lower lip.

“Please what?” you breathed and began to massage him through the fabric. “Use your words, deceiver,” you demanded and he growled in frustration at your choice of words.

“Please, touch me,” he said and you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Without saying another word, you opened his pants and took his cock in your hand, which made Halbrand almost gasped in relief. With your other hand you gently brushed some hair from his face and he leaned almost longingly into your touch.

“Of all the faces you've ever worn... this is my favorite, my dearest Mairon,” you whispered, slowly starting to move your hand up and down his length.

His eyes closed and his head fell to the side as you squeezed a little harder, causing him to moan softly. “How does that feel?” you asked, pausing when he didn't answer. “Have you lost your voice?” you breathed against his lips and he growled softly.

“It feels good. Finally feeling your touch again... I've been longing for this for so—” he broke off as you ran your thumb over the tip and smeared the precum.

“Fuck!” he groaned and you couldn't help but smile. “That's the plan,” you replied and started moving your hand faster until his cock began to twitch in your hand. His breathing became deeper and you could tell he was close, but you weren't finished yet.

Just as he was about to reach his climax, you let go of him and his moan turned into a frustrated growl. “You damn...” the words died in his throat as he opened his eyes and his gaze fell on your naked body.

He could see how much you wanted him too, because your arousal was clearly visible on the inside of your thighs, practically inviting him to taste you.

“You will be the death of me...” he said and took a step towards you, but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest again, brushing your fingertips through the dark curls growing there.

“No, not yet. Not until you're ready to kneel for me,” you said, but he decided your dominance was over now. He came closer, your hand now trapped between your bodies, and slid his hand over the curve of your ass.

“I would always fall to my knees for you, my love,” he whispered against your lips, gliding to the back of your knee with his rough hand and lifted your leg to his hip.

With a smile, you leaned against the stone wall behind you and looked him in the eyes as he slid his finger through your folds. After that, he raised his finger to his lips and licked up your wetness, making you whimper.

“Are you getting impatient now?” Sauron asked, unable to suppress a grin, then, without warning, he sank to his knees and guided your leg so that it was over his shoulder.

Finally, he dove between your legs and ran his tongue through your folds. Your body trembled under the intensity of the touch and you clung your hands to his hair. Your lips were slightly open, but no sound came out.

Only when he dipped his tongue into your wetness, did you moan and lean forward to press his head deeper between your legs. But Halbrand put a hand on your stomach and pushed your upper body back, so you had to lean against the wall again.

He started lapping at you as if you were his favorite meal and didn’t stop until you whimpered his name, then he pulled away from you and stood up.

His hand lifted your leg to his hip again and you felt him stroking your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“What if I hadn't managed to escape? What if they had killed me?” you asked him before letting out a shaky breath. “Oh love, I never doubted you, so why should I have started with that?”

With those words, he thrusted his entire length into you. A breathless cry escaped you, and as you looked into Halbrand's eyes, could see the darkness spreading in them. Dark lines became visible on the skin around his eyes for a split second, making him seem so much more menacing — but to you, even more attractive.

Suddenly he slipped out of you, grabbed with both hands under your thighs and lifted you up so that you had to wrap your legs around his waist. Seconds later he was inside you again and fucked you mercilessly against the wall.

The rough stone scratched your back while the most sinful sounds escaped your lips.

And when he felt you approaching your climax, he put a hand on your cheek and stroked your lower lip with his thumb. Your eyes met again and you could hear him in your head. Heard the words in the Black Speech that made you fall apart.

You and me against the world.

And you realized, that it was true. You could never really wash him from your soul.

2024 notreallythatlost

#vanessa this was amazing #fic rec #halbrand x reader #sauron x reader

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seriousbrat · 7 months ago

Note

hi i saw someone say that lily wouldn’t go out with james if he kept hexing snape that’s why he had to do it behind her back and i don’t think it’s true you’re my source for canon marauders stuff, so i ask you is it true?

My opinion is that she would have stayed with him had she found out lol.

I think she would be angry about it, definitely, but honestly knowing both James and Snape it's not exactly surprising that they'd be fighting during 7th year. They hated each other and had a very antagonistic relationship marked by violence. Lily knew both Sev and James very well: she knew first-hand that Sev had a vengeful streak that could turn violent and that he had more reason than ever to hate James, she knew James was prone to solving problems by duelling and that he didn't take insults or provocation lying down. Tbh if I was her I would be upset to find out they'd been fighting, but not surprised.

What I believe she wouldn't have tolerated, at all, are public humiliations like in SWM. Clearly this wasn't happening, because she'd have known about it. Remus saying that Sev "never lost an opportunity to curse James" fully tracks with Sev's character in my opinion. And good for him I say but my point is I think these were spontaneous brawls, rather than James tracking poor harmless cowering Sev down to hex him and keeping that from Lily as it's sometimes made out to be. I rly dislike that characterisation of 7th year Sev but anyway.

I dont mean James wasn't in the wrong, or that their past dynamic wasn't still a factor, but I see them both as instigators during this period. Tbh I wouldn't fault Sev for being the more aggressive of the two either haha, that's how I see him personally during 7th yr. Wreak your revenge me aul son! By that point their relationship was too damaged for them to do anything but fight each other. Obv James is originally to blame for this in the first place, but by 7th year they're essentially trapped in a cycle of violence. I honestly wouldn't expect either one to be "the bigger person" and walk away- that isn't in their natures.

So while imo Lily would be disapproving about them fighting, I honestly think she could have reasonably suspected that they were anyway. She knew who she was dating and she knew Sev. It's also possible she would just turn a blind eye to it, or (more likely) express disapproval but ultimately tolerate it, this is something Lily was guilty of in the past with Sev. To me it seems inevitable AND understandable that James and Sev, given their characters, would react aggressively to one another pretty much on sight. And I love that for them ❤️

#sev is also reeeally good at provoking people #as we see in his convo with sirius in grimmauld place. and a few times with harry #this is one of my fav Sev traits haha I've no doubt he would try and get under james's skin. and succeed.#honestly the way everyone makes such a fuss over the 7th year james-sev dynamic... idgi. to me that's their best era its so much fun #i also think the war was an exacerbating factor in the conflict between them #as in they clearly knew they were on opposite sides of it #replies #james #severus #sj #lily

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s0dium · 5 months ago

Text

Victoria Secret

A/n: For all my Geto lovers, i made sure the fucking was extra juicy. Enjoy!

Synopsis: Your secret indulgence? Buying lingerie. You've managed to keep this "hobby" under wraps until your worst nightmare, Geto Suguru, discovers your secret. Unexpectedly, he proposes a deal: he'll keep your secret, in exchange you help set up his friend Gojo with your roommate, and after that he will even buy you ten sets of your favorite lingerie. There’s just one catch—you have to model them for him. What could go wrong?

"W-what are you doing?" You manage to gasp but Geto just kisses the hollow of your throat. "Why? Do you want me to stop?" He murmurs against your skin. And you know you should say yes, but you shake your head. Like a fool. "Good girl."

Warnings: Teasing, praising, body worship, nipple play and sucking, soft-to-rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding

Word count: 5.5

Every Sunday, at precisely three in the afternoon, you sneak out of your apartment for what you call your "secret indulgence."

Your eyes gaze at the velvet-lined shelves, mentally dissecting the lace and silk items that sit on the red fabric. A familiar, gentle melody fills the boutique, playing overhead as soft light casts a warm glow on the meticulously displayed delicate fabrics. As you run your fingers over each fabric laid before you, you stop when you find one that feels like a whisper against your skin.

This one is perfect.

Carefully you hold the item up on either side, feeling the fabric between your index finger and thumb. Intricate floral patterns cover the lace material and you note the high-waisted cut and scalloped trim that would certainly flatter your figure. You hum in contentment. Yes, this piece of underwear will go perfectly with your collection.

Your "secret indulgence" you may ask? It is collecting lingerie.

Your indulgence was secret for a reason as well. Far too often people assumed that you collected lingerie for a boyfriend or even an audience, but it wasn't like that at all. In fact, it was the opposite, you collected lingerie for you. It wasn't like you never thought about trying it on for someone though, you just never seemed to have an opportunity too. Unlike many of your peers, you're not a social butterfly, never one to attend college parties or gatherings. Even your best friend Shoko has to drag you out of your room every once in a while. Yet, ever since you can remember, there's something about lingerie that captivates you—perhaps it's the delicate lace, the intricate patterns, or how damn good you looked in it. You were simply in love with it.

And up until now, you were pretty damn sure your indulgence was perfectly secret as well.

"Y/n! Just the person I needed to see."

Oh what the fuck.

Your steps halt instantly at the sound of the familiar voice, freezing you in place. You didn't want to look back, you didn't need to look back, you knew who was behind you. You purse your lips as a rush of thoughts floods your mind: Had he seen you leaving the boutique? He wasn't a fool; surely, he'd deduce that the two bags you were clutching came from somewhere significant nearby.

Shit shit shit. Fuck it.

With a nervous bite to the inside of your cheek, you slowly turned around, facing the tall man behind you.

"Geto." You dead pan. There’s a tightness around your mouth, the corners pulled down just enough to betray your displeasure. The usual spark in your eyes is conspicuously absent, replaced by a guarded, cool glare that clearly communicates your discomfort at this encounter.

Geto smiles and takes a few steps toward you. Your first instinct is to step back but you stay in place, taking in his appearance. He's wearing a black tank top today, one that clings to his well-defined muscles and shows off the tattoos covering his arms. He pairs this with casual grey sweatpants that hang loosely around his hips and of course, his long black hair is partially tied up in a man bun like it usually is, while the rest cascades down his back.

Of course he looks good.

Thin sharp black eyes scan you before landing on the two bags you are clutching. His smile grows. You know you're fucked. The last person you needed to uncover your secret.

"Enjoy your shopping?" He chuckles, nodding to the bags and you harshly bite your lip.

"Just some clothes for the summer" You respond dryly, making sure to be heard over the bustling people around you.

"Ah, you don't have to keep secrets from me." Geto chuckles and he gestures to the tattoo and piercing shop across the street. "You know I work there right? I see you go into the little shop every Sunday."

No. No, you did not know that.

You pause before speaking again. "Can I help you with something Geto?"

"Actually, yes you can. I need a favor."

"Favor?" Your eyebrows raise and you scoff. "What could I possibly help you with."

Geto smiles and takes another step forward. "I know we aren't friends, but Shoko is your best friend and she is also mine so I thought maybe we could benefit each other a bit."

You dont respond this time and he continues.

"My best friend, Gojo, im sure you know him."

You have to fight to hide the disgust on your face upon hearing the white-haired man's name. Of course, you knew Gojo, every one on campus knew Gojo, you specifically for the amount of girls he has "toyed" with.

"Yes, I know who the fuck Gojo is." You roll your eyes and you notice Geto has taken another step forward, effectively closing the distance between you two.

"Well, he is head over heels for your room mate-"

"Head over heels or just want to fuck her." You sarcastically snap back, cutting Geto off.

"Is there any difference these days?" he replies, a slight smirk playing at the edges of his lips, challenging the cynicism in your tone.

"And you want me to do what, exactly? Set her up with him? No way," you snap back, your voice rising slightly in indignation. "She's my friend, and I'm not some kind of matchmaker. Gojo can go screw himself."

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all," Geto quickly interjects, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm just asking you to let her know that he's available, that he likes her. Just make him out to be an option, you know? Your roommate can do whatever she wants with that information."

"Still, why would I want to do that?" you question, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion and frustration. The warmth of the afternoon seems to intensify the tension between you as Geto steps closer, diminishing the gap until he's just inches away.

"Because in exchange, I'll buy you anything you want," he offers, his voice low and persuasive.

"Um, what?" Your response comes out more as a reflex than anything else.

"Let me rephrase that," he continues, nodding slightly towards the bag of lingerie you're holding, which causes your cheeks to flush with embarrassment. "I’ll buy you what you really want."

"No," you retort firmly, feeling the discomfort rise.

"No?" He echoes, his tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

"Yes, no. Besides, I'm not strapped for cash. I can buy what I want whenever I want—"

"Didn't I tell you you don't have to lie to me?" Geto cuts in, his voice lowering a bit. "Please, I know how expensive that store is, and I'm not offering just one thing. Say, how about 10 sets from that store you love?" he declares, his eyes flashing with a mix of challenge and amusement.

"10? Can you even afford that?" you retort skeptically, your eyebrows arching in disbelief. This game of his was becoming more intriguing and absurd by the minute.

He leans back, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Oh, and I have to go shopping with you and see you try it on," he adds, as if the deal wasn’t provocative enough.

"Why the hell would you want to do that?" You feel the tips of your ears grow red and you scoff. The idea of Geto Suguru choosing lingerie for you sounds so personal sends a shiver down your spine.

"Because," he pauses, his gaze intense, "its not about buying you lingerie, Consider it… a test of trust, can't just give you hundred of my dollars and let you do whatever you want, I want to make sure you use the money the way our deal assures you will which is... buying lingerie."

You pause, absorbing his words, the heat of the afternoon sun pressing down on you, making the moment feel even more surreal. "Fine. We follow each other on Instagram, so I'll DM you when it's done. But like you said, it's up to her what she wants to do with that information."

"Alright by me. See you soon," he replies, his tone casual yet carrying an underlying note of finality.

As you turn away, walking down the busy street, your mind races with the absurdity of the conversation.

What the hell just happened?

Your fingers hesitated over the blue send button, poised to confirm the completion of your part of the unusual bargain.

Earlier, you had shared with your friend the prospect of a date with Gojo Satoru, carefully omitting the details of the deal behind it. As expected, she was ecstatic, thrilled by the idea despite Gojo's questionable reputation—a fact that gnawed at your conscience. But what could you do? The arrangement was already in motion. Now, it was time to let Geto know that you had held up your end of the agreement, and it was his turn to fulfill his promise.

You took a sharp breath through your nose and pressed down on the screen, watching as the word "delivered" appeared beneath your message in the chat. Just as you were about to set the phone aside and start getting ready for bed, it pinged with a new message. It was from Geto Suguru. Your heart raced as you read the simple words.

When do you want to meet?

The sun blazes down as you approach your favorite boutique, the heat making the pavement shimmer like a mirage. Despite the sweltering temperature, you've donned a big, baggy sweater over your shorts—a choice more about comfort and less about fashion, especially since you didn’t want this meeting to scream 'date'. It’s your casual armor, albeit a warm one on a day like today.

As you near the boutique, you spot Geto Suguru waiting by the entrance. He leans casually against the wall, dressed in some graphic t-shirt and black jeans, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. This time his hair is completely up in a man bun that shows off his black gauge earrings and hints of a tattoo on his back. The moment he sees you, his lips curve into a knowing smile, as if he can read your thoughts about the outfit.

"Hey," he greets, pushing off from the wall to stand upright. His voice is smooth, a calm contrast to the bustling street around you. "I was starting to think you were gonna bail."

"And miss a chance at free money? I think not." you quip. "Hope Gojo enjoyed his date by the way." Sarcasm drips from your words and Suguru chuckles.

"Probably not as much as I'm gonna enjoy this." he counters smoothly. "Come on," he says, gesturing towards the boutique's door. "We got some shopping to do."

The moment you walk through the boutique doors, cool air hits you in refreshing waves, making you sigh with relief. The boutique interior sparkles with delicate lighting and the gentle clinking of hangers, an ambiance you know and love all too well. You notice that the store is unusually quiet today, with no other customers around—just the shop owner standing by the cashier, who flashes you a small, welcoming smile as you enter. As you step further, your eyes lock onto a stunning pink lingerie set draped elegantly on a mannequin right by the entrance. Its intricate lace and delicate details shimmer under the boutique’s soft lighting, radiating an aura of both luxury and temptation. It's new, and most definitely pricy.

"You’re staring," Geto observes with a smirk, catching you in your admiring glance.

"I'm appreciating," you correct him, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. The price tag hanging from the mannequin does nothing to deter you; it's clearly on the pricier side, but today, Geto’s wallet is on the line. "And since you’re offering, I think I’ll indulge."

Geto's laughter fills the air, playful and unbothered. "I should’ve known you'd go for the gold. Well, it’s your day. Let’s make my pockets weep then," he says, gesturing grandly towards the set.

Who were you to deny him?

You dive into the racks, your fingers grazing over silks and satins, selecting the most exquisite pieces you lay your eyes on. One by one, you gather a collection of lingerie sets—each more lavish than the last. There’s a daring scarlet set that promises to captivate, a royal blue ensemble that speaks of deep oceans, and a classic black lace number that's timeless in its elegance. By the time you're done, nine luxurious sets accompany the initial pink one on the counter.

Geto watches with a mixture of admiration and apprehension as the pile grows, his eyebrows raising slightly at each new addition. But he doesn’t protest; instead, he engages in light banter with the shop owner, who carefully folds each set into sleek boutique bags.

As the total rings up—a sum that makes even the shop owner blink twice—you don’t look away from Geto's face, watching for any sign of regret or hesitation. None comes. He simply pulls out his black card, the smirk never leaving his lips as he hands it over.

The transaction goes through with a soft beep, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of victory as he signs the receipt. You reach out to grab the bags and head toward the door, already planning where each piece will go in your wardrobe, when Geto’s voice stops you.

"Where do you think you’re going? We still have the other part of the deal, remember?" he says with no attempt to hide the amusement in his voice.

Geto's reminder hangs in the air, the playful edge in his voice more pronounced now. As realization dawns on you, you let out a low groan, remembering the full scope of the deal. "Oh," you say, hesitance hanging from your voice. "Right, the 'trying on' part."

"Exactly," he grins broadly. "Come on, my car is parked outside."

"HAH! You think I'm going to your house?" you scoff, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"Why not? Or can we go to yours?" he counters quickly, his grin turning into a challenging smirk.

You bite the side of your cheek. Your place was an absolute mess right now and you don't think you can handle Geto Surguru in your room. "Fine, yours it is," you finally concede.

The drive to Geto's place unfolds in a tense silence, your gaze fixed on the cityscape sliding past the car window. Your heart pounds with a mix of dread and nerves, the quiet amplifying the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. There had to be a way to get out of this. The idea of layering your clothes under the lingerie flickers through your mind, but you dismiss it almost instantly—Geto would see right through that. The thought of making a daring escape through a bathroom window doesn't seem entirely out of the question, though it feels more like a scene from a comedy than a realistic plan.

As you mull over these scenarios, you wonder about Geto's intentions. Was this all just a game to him, a way to tease you? He'd watched you choose each piece with care, so there was no question of you running off with his money. Was this some weird way he got off?

Your so into your thoughts that you dont even realize your at Geto's door.

"Welcome to my humble abode," He says through a grin as he swings upon the door. Rolling your eyes at his grandeur, you step inside, instantly taken by the loft's undeniable charm. The space is open and airy, with high ceilings and large, sunlit windows that overlook the bustling city below. Exposed brick walls add a touch of urban cool, while modern art pieces dot the walls, giving the place a curated yet lived-in feel.

"The bathroom is over there," Geto points nonchalantly towards a sleek, sliding door on the far side of the room. His tone is casual, as if inviting you to try on clothes was an everyday occurrence. He saunters over to a plush couch, settling in comfortably. "You can start whenever you're ready."

Feeling a flutter of nerves, you clutch the bag of lingerie a bit tighter. "You want me to—to try on all of them?" Your voice barely hides your anxiety.

"Nah, just two or three," he responds, his voice calm and nonchalant as he picks up a magazine from the coffee table.

With your heart pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it, you make your way to the bathroom. The cool, modern aesthetics of the loft seem to blur as your mind races. Was this just a fucking joke to him?

As the door closes behind you, you set your bags down on the bathroom floor.

Holy shit Holy shit Holy shit.

You were going to die, this was it. You were going to die out of embarrassment because of god damn Geto Suguru. Your face burns a deep shade of red, heart racing as you lean against the cool, marble sink. Fuck, you're overwhelmed, your thoughts a tumultuous whirl, but you know you need to pull yourself together. Yes, the task is simple: pick two sets of lingerie, try them on, and get this ordeal over with. Just two sets, then you can leave. That's all.

Peeking through a slight crack in the bathroom door, you see Geto lounging effortlessly on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine as if he hasn't a care in the world. A quiet curse escapes your lips at his composure— god you hated him.

Turning back to the task at hand, you rummage through the bag containing the 10 pieces of lingerie. Each piece is stunningly beautiful, making the choice unexpectedly difficult. The last thing you wanted was to make it seem like you where trying to impress him. After a moment's hesitation, your hands settle on a set of black lace lingerie—bold but the plainest out of all of them.

Slipping into the black lace, you feel the fabric glide smoothly over your skin. The lace is intricate, delicate yet firm, offering a sensation that is both luxurious and comforting. As it settles into place, you notice how perfectly it cups your breasts, enhancing your natural shape without discomfort. The fabric molds to your body, sculpting your curves in a way that boosts your confidence, even in such a vulnerable moment.

Turning to face the mirror, you take a moment to really look at yourself. The lingerie accentuates your figure beautifully—your waist appears slimmer, your hips more pronounced. Yes, this was exactly what you loved about lingerie, how it made you look and more importantly how it made you feel. Despite the situation, you can't help but feel a surge of self-assurance. It's a small victory, but in this moment, it's enough to steady your nerves.

Now was the hard part.

Slowly you step out of the bathroom, your heart pounds fiercely in your chest, echoing in your ears. The moment the door clicks shut behind you, Geto's attention shifts from his magazine to you. He lays the magazine aside, his gaze instantly locking onto you. His eyes rake up and down your figure, taking in every detail of the black lace lingerie that clings to your curves.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Geto muses, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "If it isn't the bravest fashion model of our time."

"S-shut up," you stammer, trying to mask your discomfort with irritation. "Just remember, I'm only doing this because of the deal."

"Oh, and you're doing it magnificently, may I add. Who knew you hid such bold taste under that sweater."

"It's just underwear, don't read too much into it," you retort, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

"Turn for me," he commands softly. "I want to see the back."

"What?" you falter, caught off guard.

"Turn for me, I want to see behind," he repeats more firmly.

Fuck it.

Reluctantly, you turn, exposing the delicate lace detailing on the back.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, almost to himself, his gaze lingering appreciatively on the design.

"What?" you ask, your voice wavering slightly—unsure if you're more startled by the compliment or by the intimacy of his tone.

"Nothing, baby," he responds, his hand dismissively waving as he looks away, pretending to refocus on something else in the room. "Go try on the next one."

You dont say anything, instead slipping back into the bathroom and rummaging through the bag. Your heart still thumps audibly in your chest, but now there's an undercurrent of excitement mixed with the nerves. The flutter in your chest isn't just from anxiety though; it's also from a burgeoning sense of empowerment. You realize that you have control over how you present yourself, a certain power over Sugruru.

After discarding the set you were wearing, you reach into the bag and pull out the pink set you splurged on earlier. The fabric is luxurious, with a hint of sheerness to the bra that would no doubt show your nipples. The underwear is equally bold, designed as a thong with delicate straps that loop around each thigh, highlighting the curves of your hips and legs.

As you slip into the pink lingerie, the fabric settles against your skin like a whispered secret. The sheer material of the bra makes you acutely aware of your own body, and as you adjust the straps around your thighs, the ensemble frames your form in a way that feels almost artistically deliberate.

Yes, just after this you would be done. So why not go out with a bang?

As you step out of the bathroom, the transformation in your demeanor is palpable. The delicate pink lingerie accentuates your confidence, which resonates with each step you take towards Geto. His eyes lift to meet yours, and the moment they travel down to take in the full view, his expression shifts dramatically to one of... shock? His usual composure falters, and he lets out a low, incredulous whistle.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes out.

You shift in place, playing with the silk hem of your underwear.

After a moment, he composes himself slightly and gestures towards him with a slight tilt of his head. "Come here," he says softly, his voice low and inviting.

You pause, the hesitation clear in your stance. The intensity in his gaze and the palpable tension in the air make your heart race even faster.

Seeing your reluctance, Geto's expression softens. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. "Please," he adds, a hint of something more vulnerable in his tone this time.

The room seems to pulse with the silent energy between you as you take a tentative step forward, then another, drawn by the magnetic pull of his gaze. The air thickens with a charged mix of anticipation and desire as you finally stop just a breath away from him.

He looks up at you, standing up from his seat, his gaze intense yet tender. "You look incredible," he murmurs. You flinch when you feel his hand his finger trace your jaw and his other hand play with the hem of your lace underwear. He bends down, his lips just grazing your cheek, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine, making your entire body quiver. "If you want me to stop, say it now," he whispers. When you remain silent, he brushes his mouth against the hollow of your temple. "Or now." He traces the curve of your cheekbone. "Or now." His lips meet yours.

For a moment your so shocked that he kissed you, you don't do anything. It feels like you are having an out-of-body experience like you can't believe this as actually happening to you. Then in a matter of seconds, his lips move against yours and you melt. Suguru is gentle at first, then unyieldingly hard. You feel yourself falling —not just physically, but emotionally too. You open for him and his tongue snakes its way inside your mouth. His hands move from your face to your lower back as he pulls you toward him, closing whatever space was left between you. He pushes you against him as he deepens the kiss. One of his hands remains on your hip, while the other travels to cup your breasts.

"W-what are you doing?" You manage to gasp but Geto just kisses the hollow of your throat."

"Why? Do you want me to stop?" He mumbles against your skin. And you know you should say yes, but you shake your head. Like a fool.

"Good girl."

Without a warning, Geto sweeps you up in his arms with an ease that leaves you breathless, carrying you effortlessly across the room to his bed.

Geto stands over you, his eyes tracing the contours of your body splayed elegantly across his bed.

"Shit baby, you let anyone else see you like this?"

You thickly gulp and shake your head.

"Oh thank god." He murmurs, climbing over you to place light kisses along your neck, trailing down your chest. Each kiss is soft yet deliberate, sending a cascade of warmth through your entire body. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to be fully immersed in the sensation.

"Your skin feels like silk," he murmurs.

"Did you steal that line from a hallmark card?" You crack.

"Nope just stating a fact." He skims the underside of your bra with his fingers. "Always watched you come out of the store, always wanted to see how you'd look in what you bought." He lifts his head to give you a wry look "You're so smooth and perfect you know that right?"

You let out a soft gasp when his lips find your nipple, pulling your lacy bra down so soft lips can evoke your nub.

"Oh god sugu-" He doesn’t let you get to the last consonant, his eager, hot mouth enveloping one of your nipples and sucking. His tongue flattens, rolling your peak and swirling around your areola, fast and rough until you’re whining. His ears go hot at the sounds you’re making, all desperate and needy.

"So beautiful, fuck your tits are so beautiful" He groans into your skin like it was cocaine. He then switches to your other breast, sucking and licking until he knows you will be sore. Jesus, your breasts feel so good in his mouth, so soft and sweet, why didn't he do this sooner? How much longer did he think he could maintain this facade of being your 'enemy' when all he truly desired was to have you underneath him?

You are squirming underneath him now, the stimulation of his wet tongue on your nipple is becoming unbearable and so was the growing heat between your legs. Your tits feel so good in his mouth, supple, sweet, far better than his imagination could ever conjure

"God, sugu-"

"Love it when you say my name." Suguru breaths between licks and you feel your stomach twist with.

"Sugu please" you manage to gasp, "please touch me please anything please-"

"Fuck you?" Suguru coos, and the words make warmth blossom from your core.

"Please." You breath.

And who was he to deny you?

Without much of a word he pulls your lace panties down to your ankles, making you instinctively hide your bare cunt with your hands, but he clicks the roof of his mouth with his tongue and swats your fingers away. Then, as he stands over you, Suguru steps out of his black pants and pulls off his t-shirt. As you glimpse Suguru, you feel your breath get caught in your throat. His large, incredibly toned frame is a clear testament to rigorous workouts, and intricate tattoos weave across his skin, adding to the attraction.

You were no longer in the kiddie pool.

You are too immersed in his figure that you dont even notice he has lowered down his black boxers just enough so his long length springs out and slaps against his abdomen.

You thickly gulp.

"I dont think that will-" You stammer, the sheer size or his dick making your gut twist and turn. "I think it will hurt I dont think it will-" As you continue to stammer, searching for the right words, Geto cuts you off with a deep, consuming kiss that immediately shuts you up. When he finally pulls back, a confident smirk plays on his lips.

"It will, baby, it always does," he murmurs, his voice low and dark.

Geto positions himself atop you, his strong legs straddling either side of your body, anchoring him in place. He leans over you, the intensity of his gaze capturing yours as he methodically entwines his fingers with yours. With a firm but gentle grasp, he pins your hands down on either side of your body, his proximity reducing the world to the space between you. The warmth of his breath brushes against your face, his presence both overwhelming and exhilarating, as he holds you there under him, completely in control yet tender in his touch.

Before you can even get a word in, you gasp when you feel large pressure against your hole.

"Slowly baby," he hushes you before you can protest. "I'll go slowly."

Suguru's slow roll of hips hips into you is enough to make you scream. The way his dick parts your walls and fills every single inch of you makes your brain go hazy, especially when his tip smooshes against your cervix, sending blots of electricity throughout your body.

"Talk to me baby," Suguru murmurs, his voice cracking from the vice grip your cunt has on dick. "Want me to move?"

You're too lost in the hazy pleasure to form words, all you can do is nod, making Geto breathe out an air of what must be relief. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted.

You feel like you are going insane from the pleasure. Your cries came silent from your throat, eyes screwed shut in complete bliss. Your body adjusted rather quickly to him, Suguru coaxing you to relax as he peppers kisses along your neck, sucking and biting your sensitive skin. And as you adjusted, your hips began to buck against him at their own pace, beckoning him to move faster.

Of course, Suguru doesn't miss this, and without missing a beat he speads up his thrusts, the pap pap pap of his skin against your echoing in your ears

"Shit, you feel so good baby." Geto practically whines. You don't know it, but he's starting to lose his grip, the overwhelming pleasure beginning to unravel his usual composure.

The delicious friction of his dick scrapping your walls has your heart pounding in your ears and your breath close to hyperventilating. Everything is too much too good all at once. The proximity of Geto's body is overwhelming, his warm skin against yours, his ragged breath hot against your neck. When you gaze into his face, the sight nearly makes you faint—his eyes scrunched shut, lost in euphoria, beads of sweat lining his black hairline. His mouth is slightly open, panting, a sight that makes your cunt flutter from excitement.

"Su-Suguru, so good you're fucking me so good." you babble and he can only groan in response. Your toes curled and uncurled as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with the kisses he peppered on your neck and lips was all enough to end you to heaven.

He knows you're close. And you know it too. The way Suguru is fucking you is truly a primal display of affection; him rutting into your cunt like an animal in heat and you frantically scratching and clawing at his back.

Thats when an idea hits you, no, a need overcomes you, You need Suguru, you need all of him, all of him inside you filling you up and making you his.

"Sugu cum in me please," you beg through a hoarse voice. "Fill me up please please please."

He’s been pressing kisses and biting into your shoulder, but you don’t miss the way he practically whines at your words.

"Course baby, course I will."

As if on cue, you feel your seize up and your mind go blank. It feels like your body is free falling into a euphoric grave, electric arrows of pleasure coursing through your sin and directly to your core.

"Oh shit" Suguru curses at the way your cunt clamps down on him and it isnt to long before he follows you, shooting thick ropes of cum straight into your belly. In a fluid motion without leaving your insides once, he picks you up so you are straddling him, and his bare chest is pressed against yours.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs into your ear. And you can only sigh in response.

'I'll buy you 1000 more lingerie sets if we can do this again."

#jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #getou smut #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut

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hiraethwrote · 6 months ago

Text

i've always known - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ✧ cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ✧ word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were six years old when you met him for the first time.

“Be nice and say hi, sweetie,” your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.

“Hi,” you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.

But it wasn’t the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.

“Hello, I’m Satoru,” his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.

“Mooom,” you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. “Can we go back inside?”

“In a minute,” she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. “I’m sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,” she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed kindly before turning to you. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other with time.” She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your mom’s leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.

“We have no doubt,” she answered for you.

Still feeling Satoru’s eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.

“I really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.” Your mother instantly beamed at the request.

“That’s so nice. We’d love too, right honey?” Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.

“Great. Just drop by anytime after five and we’ll be home.” The genuine smile only amplified the woman’s already gorgeous face.

Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. “Why don’t you tell them your name?”

Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Why don’t you show her your room, Satoru?” The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.

You’d given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.

With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.

Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.

But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.

“Are all of these yours?” You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.

Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so you’d be able to pick up a new manga the second you’d finished another one.

“How old are you?” The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.

“Six.” He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.

“Hmm,” he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldn’t help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “‘S not fair,” he mumbled as he kicked his feet.

“What isn’t fair?” You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.

“Well, I’m eight,” he complained, but that alone didn’t explain his tone. “So why are you taller than me?” Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. “It’s not funny!”

If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.

He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.

Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile you’d been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.

Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldn’t help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.

“And he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!”

“That’s great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!” Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. “Why don’t you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?” You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.

You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldn’t find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didn’t manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin you’d been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.

Over the years, you’d just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.

There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.

Sadly, Satoru’s classmates didn’t think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child… and a girl, which meant you brought cooties

“Waiting for your boyfriend,” a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoru’s class.

“Not my boyfriend,” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.

“You know, he doesn’t really like hanging out with you.” Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. “He’s got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.”

You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?

“You’re just upset you can’t get anyone to talk to you!” Your voice was venomous, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.

“Think you’re funny?”

“Just leave me alone!” You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. “Hey! Give it back!” Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.

“I’m just having a look,” he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.

Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small “ops” and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. “Awe, are you crying?”

The tears didn’t have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.

Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.

Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didn’t seem sure what to do with themselves. “You want to taste the gravel as well?” Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didn’t take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy who’d ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.

The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. “You okay?” He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.

Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.

“I’m fine,” you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.

“I have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,” he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. “And don’t worry about them! They’re just stupid! And jealous. And, and-“ his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.

Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldn’t help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. “Thank you for stopping them.” In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.

The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.

Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because they’d received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.

Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didn’t seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.

“You never resort to violence, Satoru,” his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didn’t understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.

Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didn’t get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.

You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone — not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.

It wasn’t until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon!”

“Shhh, you gotta keep it down,” he said softly, barely able to hear him. “I’m not allowed to talk to you right now.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.

“I’m grounded,” he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.

“For what?”

“Because I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.

“Really? I can explain what happened to your parents-“ he waved his hands out the window to stop you.

“I tried. They were quite upset. But it’s no big deal. It’s just a week.”

“So, I won’t be able to see you for a week?” You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadn’t really hit him that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.

Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. “Guess we’ll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,” he laughed, making you laugh along as well.

“I guess so.”

“I gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,” he sighed. “So, guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.

“Hey, Satoru?” Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot!”

Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. He’d risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.

“Good night, ‘Toru,” you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.

And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasn’t just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.

“Imagine you used to be taller than me,” he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.

“Yeah, and you’re the only one who cares,” you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.

This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as you’d mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.

There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.

So, by association, you too became popular.

You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldn’t really have been complaining — except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.

Ever since you were young, you hadn’t made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.

So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.

Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Who’s your friend? Is she single? Why aren’t you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.

“Yeah, no, she’s- uhm, she’s single but her dad promised her a car if she doesn’t date ‘til she’s eighteen.”

They all gave him the same weird look. “If you’re seeing her, just say so.”

“No! We’re just friends!” He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.

Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didn’t care about Satoru’s lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.

You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasn’t unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. You’d gotten so used to it over the years, that you’d simply grown accustomed to it.

After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasn’t worth it — that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.

Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.

“So you’re joining us this weekend right?” Suguru, one of Satoru’s close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didn’t notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.

“What’s this weekend?”

“Satoru didn’t tell you about the party?” A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoru’s disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.

“Party?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on going so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his ‘cool’ act.

“That’s not what you told us yesterday,” Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguru’s plastered on her face.

It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which you’d never thought much of — until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you weren’t necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.

Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you weren’t able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?

“I mean, if you want to go,” you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. “I don’t wanna stop you.” With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.

“So that’s a yes?” Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.

“I guess so,” a small chuckle leaving your lips.

Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.

You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. “I have to run by the library before class,” you sighed before you rushed off, Satoru’s eyes never leaving you until you’d left the cafeteria.

“What is your deal?” Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. “Since when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?”

“I don’t know, just don’t think it’ll be her scene, that’s all,” he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.

“I know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but she’s able to take care of herself. You’ve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,” she laughed again.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.

“You remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,” Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. “Look, we’ll all keep an eye on her. And you don’t drink anyways, so you’ll be more than sober enough to make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. “I’ll see you guys later.”

And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoru’s arm for dear life, scared you’d lose him in the crowd.

“We can leave if you want to,” he leaned down to say nearly the second you’d entered the house.

“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just… find Shoko and Suguru.”

It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoru’s strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didn’t take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.

What wasn’t as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.

And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.

Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.

You had no reason to be upset — you were only friends and you’d only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadn’t ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.

“Hey, you okay?” Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.

Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, “come on.”

A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.

“How does ice cream sound to you?” Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.

And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.

“I’ll never understand them,” Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. “I mean, they’re clearly into each other, right?”

Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. “It’s weird if they aren’t.”

“When he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-“

“No, I agree,” Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. “I’ve never seen ‘best friends’ act like they do.” Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.

“Neither has she,” she laughed.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.

Standing outside your boyfriend — no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriend’s front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.

It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.

Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.

The fifteen minute walk from where you’d just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?

Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldn’t have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.

Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.

“What happened?” His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.

“Can I come in?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah! Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. “You want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.”

A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. “No, thank you, I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” you sniffled furiously.

“Yeah, sure.” Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.

Uncomfortable wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before — just not very often. You’d always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, he’d always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“We broke up.” The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what you’d just said. “Or he broke up with me is probably more correct.” You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.

“I thought things were going well.”

“So did I.” You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. “I know you never liked him and didn’t get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?”

A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadn’t been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldn’t help it.

Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadn’t even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.

He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when he’d met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy who’d chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then he’d break your heart this badly, he’d tried harder to shut it down.

“I know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,” he tried to comfort you. “And I’m certain he cared for you too. It’s hard not to.”

“Urgh, I’m such an idiot,” you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.

“Hey,” Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. “You’re not an idiot, okay?”

A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. “I’m not even sure he ever cared about me.”

When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than you’d ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Listen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and he’d be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because it’s genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.” A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. “You’re not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And he’s the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.”

He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty — beautiful.

“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Any time.”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Scandalous,” he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didn’t have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.

“Who knew you were so good at this,” you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.

“Pfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I can’t do?” He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.

“You’re not the greatest cook last time I che-“ before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased he’d managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.

“Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll have you sleep on the floor.”

“You would never,” you smiled before grabbing one of Satoru’s t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.

Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonight’s sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing he’d tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.

Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didn’t have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.

Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.

Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasn’t quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.

When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.

Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.

“‘Toru?”

“Hm?”

“What was it about him you didn’t like?” Satoru couldn’t help but smirk somewhat shamefully.

“It’s not important,” a slight chuckle slipping out of him.

“With a smile like that, you have to tell me.” Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.

“Well, I like it best when I have you to myself.”

“Please,” you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.”

“No, I’m serious,” he gave you a sweet smile. “We’ve been so close for so long, it’s weird suddenly having to share you.”

You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. “Well, I had to share you first.”

His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. “Excuse me?”

“So you’ve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always ‘Suguru this’ and ‘Shoko that’.”

“That’s not the same,” he mocked you.

“How’s that not the same?” Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.

“Because-” was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.

He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.

All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?

One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-

No, stop!

You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.

His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldn’t be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. He’d be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you weren’t trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.

“Good night,” he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.

The next morning, you’d woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it “the breakfast for breakups”.

You couldn’t tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.

And never brought it up.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.

Satoru had left for college, and at first you’d been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasn’t immediately at your side.

You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didn’t want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when you’d see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re crying, ‘Toru,” you teased in between your own sniffles.

“You got me there,” he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didn’t even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. “Gonna miss you.”

“Gonna miss you too,” you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.

The first few days you didn’t do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were — and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.

“No, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.”

And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.

Even though you hated it, you couldn’t blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldn’t help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldn’t keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.

It was your senior year after all — it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasn’t there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.

Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.

This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your mom’s voice yell from downstairs. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Just send her up,” you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.

“Her? Not the last time I checked,” Satoru smiled.

“Oh, my god, ‘Toru!” You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.

When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. It’s been so long since you’d been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

“God, don’t wanna ruin my makeup,” you laughed.

“I was just about to say, you look great,” he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because ‘great’ was an understatement.

“Why, thank you,” you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.

“Going somewhere?” His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.

“Yeah, there’s a party tonight. The group’s going, but I can cancel if-“

“No, of course not. I’m home all weekend.” There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didn’t have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that you’d drop the party for him in a heartbeat — you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.

“Well, maybe you could come along?” You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.

“I just think I’m going to stay home with my parents tonight,” he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.

He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didn’t have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.

All he’d looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.

Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they weren’t back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didn’t want to attend in the first place and witness how close you’d gotten to all your new friends while he’d been away, still preferring to have you to himself.

“Will you at least stay until I leave? And then I’m all yours for the whole of tomorrow?” For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.

“Of course.” His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying.

And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How you’d finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.

“Oh, and that’s probably her coming now!” You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.

“Satoru? What a pleasant surprise,” she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldn’t even remember her name.

“Yeah, just home for the weekend,” he smirked at her.

She flashed him another smile before turning to you. “You ready?”

“Just about,” you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.

He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something you’d picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyone’s cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadn’t picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.

“Hey,” you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

“Thank god you answered,” you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. “Could you please, please, please pick me up?”

“You okay?” There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.

“No. Or yes. Or I don’t know, but I’m cold and I need to go home!” Another sigh.

“Where are you?”

“You’re my angel,” you breathed before giving him the address.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.

Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.

“You’re really a life saver,” you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You okay, ‘Toru?”

“‘M just fine,” he answered simply, still fixated on the road.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.

“How come you were standing out in the cold all alone?” When he didn’t acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.

“You don’t wanna know,” you sighed, staring out the window.

“No, I’m curious.” If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasn’t directed at you.

“I was kicked out.”

“What, too drunk to be in the house?” His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.

“Do I seem too drunk to you?” He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ‘no’. “If you wanna know, I-“ you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.

“Don’t get shy on my behalf.”

“I was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,” you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.

“You what?” Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. “Who?”

“Does it matter?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.

“Who was it?” He repeated sternly.

“Just some guy I met there, I don’t know,” you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.

“Wow,” he said in utter disbelief. “So this is who you are now.” Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.” You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Stop the car,” you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.

“I’m not stopping-“

“Stop the fucking car, Satoru,” you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didn’t hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.

With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.

“Come on, get back in the car,” Satoru’s voice complained down the street.

“So you can slut shame me some more? Think I’ll pass,” you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.

“Fine, sorry, please get back in the car,” he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.

“You expect me to accept that apology?” You scowled right back at him.

“Stop acting like a brat and just-“

“Brat? Really?” You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. “Thought so.” Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.

“So is this like a weekly occurrence now?” You forcefully pulled out of his grip.

You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. “I mean, there’s something happening every weekend but that doesn’t mean I always participate.” He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. “What?”

“So now you’re just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone that’s available?”

You truly couldn’t believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person you’d known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest — suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.

“Like you’re one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone who’d give it to you!”

“I never liked going to parties. I still don’t,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Glad to see some things hasn’t changed, unlike the fact that you’ve turned into an asshole,” you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.

“Well, I’m not the only one who has changed,” he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.

A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person you’d physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Flickering between his eyes, you knew you’d caught on. “Did you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?”

“I certainly didn’t expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.”

“Replace you?!” You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.

“Yes, replace me!” He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.

“So you haven’t gotten any new friends at university?”

“That’s different-“

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. “I am so tired of you saying it is different for you! You’ve done that for years.”

Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something he’d never done before. Then again, he couldn’t remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.

“It’s baffling to me that you’re actually saying all these things to me, like it isn’t you that keep postponing our phone calls.” You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.

He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. “Classes are riding my ass.”

“You don’t think I know that?” You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. “But truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.”

“You can’t expect me to be able to make time-“

What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.

Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?

“If you haven’t been paying attention, it’s not me that’s had too many expectations, but you!”

His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldn’t bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation — sick of you — an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. He’d already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.

“I’m being unreasonable?!” You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me?”

Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.

“For the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.” You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. “But I think you’re not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why it’s nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!”

“You always do that!” He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. “You always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.”

“I know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that it’s worth, and now you’re trying to tell me you work so hard?” Silence. “And you’ve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet can’t help but just give it to you! I’m willing to bet my last dime you’re surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!”

Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.

The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing you’d never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.

“Despite what you might think, I’m not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. I’m my own person, always have been. And I’m sorry you’re pissy about the fact that I’m doing fine without you here and I’m sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.”

You felt you’d gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didn’t feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.

“Think I see you clearer than ever.”

Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didn’t feel his hand grab your arm.

The second your head had hit the pillow after you’d gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so you’d be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.

Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.

Waking up the next morning, you’d felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.

But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes you’d spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.

Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadn’t hung out yet.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty years old when you started university.

After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.

So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for — moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasn’t nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.

You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.

Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like you’d always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.

However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.

You didn’t have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.

“I look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. I’m sure you’ll make great teachers one day,” he smiled. “Before we get started, there’s someone I’d like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester — come on up.”

Everyone’s eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person who’d just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadn’t expected to see.

“Good morning everyone,” he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’ll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-“

The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.

Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadn’t cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.

Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.

You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.

He’d let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didn’t need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.

“Mr. Gojo?” The professor’s voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.

“Yeah, sorry-“ he cleared his throat. “Any questions you might have, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.

With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure you’re heart might actually stop from the stress.

Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly you’d missed and craved the other the period you’d been separated.

His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.

You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see he’d been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you — or so you thought.

“I have a meeting to get to,” Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. “But here’s my email. Just… send whatever questions you might have and I’ll answer as soon as I have the time.” It didn’t seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.

You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.

“I- Uhm.” Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.

“You look- I mean I didn’t know you wanted to become a teacher,” he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.

“Me neither,” it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. “What I mean is I only decided recently.”

He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. “You finding university alright?”

It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.

You nodded frantically at his question. “Yeah, much to see.”

Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. “If you’re ever available, I’d love for us to grab a coffee or something,” he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.

“Sure.”

“Really?” Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadn’t expected you to accept so willingly. He hadn’t really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.

You didn’t know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance he’d apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.

“You haven’t changed your number, right?” You shook your head. “I’ll just text you.” The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoru’s face at the delightful sight.

“See you around, ‘Toru,” you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldn’t be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.

It didn’t even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.

toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? there’s this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus

you: sounds good :)

It seemed Friday couldn’t come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.

And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.

“I’m really glad you decided to join,” he started awkwardly.

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.

“Me too.”

“You look really pretty- I mean, you look great. You’ve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, you’ve never been ugly. In fact-“

His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.

“Thank you,” you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.

Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldn’t be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when he’d been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldn’t throw it away.

“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “I don’t want to give you any dumb excuses, because there aren’t any. I’m sorry and you didn’t deserve any of what I said to you that night.”

His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. “I’m sorry too.”

He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“Well, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.” You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didn’t deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. “You look great too, by the way.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.

“Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Okay, nerd.”

Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade — and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. He’d only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.

And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didn’t take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.

It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.

There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad you’d wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if you’d both been mature enough to just reach out.

But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.

Before, he’d simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.

When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.

And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.

Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how you’d gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.

You couldn’t care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.

The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-

“Satoru?” Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.

What was happening?

There was a hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. “Satoru?” You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. “What are you doing?”

A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.

“I should have kissed you that night.”

His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.

“Would you have kissed me back?” The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.

“Without hesitation.” His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.

“We’re skipping the party,” he whispered.

“Didn’t wanna go anyways,” you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as you’d always imagined them to be.

Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.

His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that he’d ever drop you.

Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.

“That’s what you like, huh?” You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.

Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, you’d noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.

You’d experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which you’d always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.

But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.

The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another person’s touch in a lifetime — and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.

Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. “This dress need to come off, baby,” he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.

You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.

Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.

“Is this crazy?” You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.

“Not crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.”

Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.

Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoru’s face.

“Damn, calm down,” he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.

“Idiot.” Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.

Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew he’d forever hold it against you — how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. “Can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“‘Toru, I-“ you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.

“Getting shy around me, pretty? That’s unlike you.” Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.

Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.

His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.

Motherfucker.

“What-“ your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.

“I need you,” it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.

“Sorry,” your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.

You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.

That’s when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didn’t wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.

“You okay?” He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.

The line was officially crossed — no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe you’d always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.

At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.

“Wanted this for so long,” he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.

Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.

Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoru’s cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew you’d created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.

“Fuck fuck fuck, look at that.”

“God you’re so beautiful.”

“Taking me so good baby.”

“Fuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.”

“Hngh, ‘Toru,” you mewled. “I’m gonna c-cum,” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.

“As you wish.” Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. “Cum f’me.”

His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.

He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.

“Should have known you’re quite a talker during sex, it adds up.”

“Is this complaining I hear?” He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. “Because the way you just moaned my name like a slut-“

“Okay, fine, I’ll sush,” you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. “So what happens now?” You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.

Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “I know I don’t wanna waste anymore time not being with you.”

“We really screwed up there, huh?” As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.

“Not my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.”

“Oh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then there’s-“ he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.

“Still such a brat-“ you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.

“Satoru,” you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.

Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.

For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.

“But pretty please!” Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. “It’s a testosterone nightmare.”

Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.

“My god, Satoru, we’re at work!” You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.

“Sorry, just got excited.” He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.

Over and over you’d told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.

Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.

“So what’d I miss?”

“Nobara want me to give her private lessons because she’s sick of you boys.”

“Young miss Kugisaki, dare I say I’m disappointed?” Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.

“Gojo-sensei, I have reason to believe I’ll learn even more having a female teacher,” she pouted.

“Ouch,” he breathed in response.

“You’ll tough it out,” you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. “I mean, think about how I have it. At least you’re only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-“

A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.

“Can you guys believe it?” Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. “My own wife?”

“‘Toru!” He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.

“You’re both insufferable,” Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.

“All I’ve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,” shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.

Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m their favourite teacher,” he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.

“Isn’t much competition when you’re their only teacher.”

“You’re feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“No, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.”

The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people who’d been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.

“Wipe of that grin, sir, or you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.

His face came closer — oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.

“We both know you’d come crawling into my arms after an a hour,” he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.

“Nuh uh-“ was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.

“Damn, I love you,” he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.

Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. You’d think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.

But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person you’d chosen to be with for the rest of your life.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

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sweetnans · 5 months ago

Text

When Katsuki got hit with a quirk, that made him tell what he actually thinks it felt like the world stopped, well for him.

You were trying so hard to maintain your composure when he sprinted into your room with his hand over his mouth.

"What happened?" You asked, and he wrote it down in a paper you had on your desk. "Got hit by a quirk, and I can't stop saying shit," you read and quirked your brow at him "shit like what?"

Real shit

You read and huffed at him while he still couldn't take off his hand of his mouth.

"Just stay like that and don't move. Did they tell you how long it will last?" He denied with his head, and you scratched the back of your neck. "Well, I'll do the talking then. You just have to listen"

He rolled his eyes at you. He didn't mind listening to you talk, but he did mind making the effort to not answer you back to keep the conversation on. For the last years, he realized that it was easy having a friendship with you, and lately, after you two started a friendship with benefits, fuck buddies, he felt in sync with you most of the time.

"How did you end up getting hit with that? Oh no, don't say anything, " you giggled when you looked at his face. He was actually suffering. It was a mixture between suffering and incredulity.

It was easy for you to have him around. You wouldn't deny the fact that your friendship with him had been growing in a way you never expected. Fulfilling some sort of comfort that you never had with anyone.

"Have you seen the others? Kirishima or Kaminari?" You asked while he was practically dead in your bed. You started folding your clothes, waiting for his response, but it never came. "I think you can answer me with yes or no without spilling something juicy"

He quirked a brow at you, holding his upper body on his elbows.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. If you are afraid to talk, there must be something really juicy on your mind that you don't want us to know. " his eyes got plastered in yours, and your eyes widen in sudden realization. "It's not us. You don't want me to know"

He panicked.

He knew you well. He knew that when you have something in mind, there is no human or extraterrestrial force to take it off. You won't drop the topic, uh-uh, you'll push it out of his system, you will bend him until he cracks, and now, with his incapability to talk, he was clearly in disadvantage.

"C'mon Katsuki, I'm your dearest and longest friend, we've been since high school, you know you can tell me anything." You pushed his buttons. The clothes you were folding laid discarded on the opposite side of the room while you approached him slowly like a predator chased its prey.

He needed to keep it cool. He needed to remain strong. The mantra kept playing in his head, and it worked for a while until he saw you kneeling in front of him in a position he knew very well. Fuck you.

"Don't look at me like that," you faked innocence. "I'm just using all the options I have"

You weren't going to do anything.

The look on his face was the main reason you stepped up your game. You threw your hands above his thigh, touching and squeezing the fat of them in a sexy way, very subtly. He flinched at the sudden contact, and you could swear that you saw a drop of sweat forming in the line of his hair.

"You don't need to talk while I blow you, do you?"

He grew impatiently seeing you there, your doe eyes, and your playful smile, meaning nothing but trouble.

You bit your lower lip in between your teeth at the sight of his growing bulge. It was getting out of hand, and you needed to bail before it evolved in something you wouldn't be able to stop.

"I'm just messing with you, relax." You left a tiny squeeze above his knee cap and pretended that it was just a game you were playing and not something that was getting you in the mood.

You weren't a masochist and he was your best friend.

You were preparing yourself to stand again when he, in a sudden and fast movement, grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pulled you toward him.

Your face was mere inches from his face, and your legs were now straddling his figure.

"What are you-"

The blood on your body rose and accumulated in your cheeks. It wasn't a weird position for you, but it was the intense look of his face that got you trembling under his touch.

"You fucking asked for it" he growled lowly. A tiny but strong spark went down on your spine, making you shiver. "Now shut up and listen for once, I don't know whats happening between you and me but lately I've been craving you even more, your skin, your kisses, when you bite my lip and scream my name when I'm inside of you"

His minty breath was fanning above your lips, and his crimson eyes never left yours.

"But that isn't enough anymore"

That sentence snapped your senses again. You regained control of your factions and your brows knitted together at the sudden feeling of losing him.

"What do you mean with that"

The bold you that was eager to get the information from him at any cost shrinked. It was the end of you two. Memories and images passed through your mind like a movie, and when you were about to tear up, he pinched your hip.

You glanced at him through wet lashes. He took a deep breath and smirked. If he was nervous, he never showed.

"I need more. I need you with me in the mornings, I need you with me throughout the day, I need you chopping my ear off every time you get excited with something, I want to watch every shitty reality you want to watch, I want you to scold me everytime I say something mean about our friends and I need to see you here everyday when I come home. I want you to stay and not leave, " he puked the words to you. His pupils were dilated, moving from one side to another, looking for a reaction from you. You were shocked.

He closed his eyes, thinking he screwed it. It was done, and if it was done, he would leave completely empty.

"I just want to cuddle with you after we have sex, I really like feeling you curled up against my body, it make me feel warm on the inside. I like the smell of your hair and your body, I like the way you laugh and the way you do that weird dance every time you win at something. And it drives me crazy having all these feelings for you. It's killing me that you don't realize that I love you"

You stopped breathing. He blurted the last sentences very slowly, giving everything up, including you. The final act of love it was always letting go, wasn't it? It was regret and hurt, but at least it was off of his chest.

He was still looking down when he felt both of your hands grabbing each side of his face. You were smiling through the tears that were rolling down your red cheeks.

"I can't believe that it took you getting hit by a quirk to confess your feelings for me"

Before he could say anything, you crashed your lips with his in a hungry and passionate kiss that melted all the regret and unpleasant feelings away.

For Katsuki, the world started spinning again.

7K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 2 months ago

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˗ˏˋ 💎 JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ

⋆˙ ᯓ★ about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.

sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊

ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:

before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner.

in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.

they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.

to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive.

even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void.

to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs.

at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.

but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present.

it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.

“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?”

satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown.

the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”

“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.

you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing, the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.”

“sir—“

without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.

in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’

catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.

“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.

and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.”

“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”

“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.

you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.

“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”

“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!”

“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.

“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.”

“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father.

“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”

“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your exasperated sigh.

“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.

she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.

“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.”

gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal.

“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.”

“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.

her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”

the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!”

“daddy—!”

“w-what?”

“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” “betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.”

the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes.

in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.”

and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl.

“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?”

your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.

it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.

the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!”

“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”

“gojo!”

“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”

ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:

if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.

he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.

at least, until he met you.

in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different —

nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.

a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft.

“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?”

sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.”

there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply.

but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.

“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss.

his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.

paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.

thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.

“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”

“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?”

“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”

with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”

your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl.

casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the physical version of a precious memory.

a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!”

she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot.

“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.

“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him. “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper? y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.”

his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.

your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”

pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”

“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,” sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.”

“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.

tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.

“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i?

“just barely.”

sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.”

“here, isn’t he cute.”

lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!”

two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.

“ryomen sukuna!”

“daddy!”

“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”

ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:

“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”

suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.

“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”

suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.

“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!

bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,” though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air. “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.”

“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.

you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.

shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”

this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face.

“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.

“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”

once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”

with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course )

“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before.

the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.

“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad!

fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”

“husband, love, there’s a difference.”

three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill.

round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”

you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”

“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.”

now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”

the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel.

how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip?

“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”

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churipu · 10 months ago

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JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU GETTING LEFT OUT BY YOUR FRIENDS 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, inumaki toge.

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just jjk men being overprotective of you bye, and cursing.

note. guysssss, no requests pls, they're not open :(( and if you sent one in, i apologize but they're going to take a bit of time to do :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

before you did — gojo had already sensed that your friends were shit. believe me when i say that he has tried talking to you about it from the moment you introduced him to them during your weekly "girls night".

but you said that your friends were fine. gojo doesn't think so. ever since that day, every time you said you were going out with your friends; he came along with you, not leaving you out of his sight.

that includes today. your "girls night" or whatever — when you try to convince gojo that he didn't need to come with, but all he said was, "i am one of the girls, aren't i?"

so he came along. and he didn't regret it. not. one. bit.

your friends, he didn't even know how to describe them without slipping in a curse or two. because he couldn't believe you were actually friends with these douchebags. it was plain obvious they were leaving you out on purpose.

whenever you try to chime in the conversation, your voice is immediately toppled over by one of them. or when you try to walk beside them, they step a bit further — on purpose. he could tell.

the male was really glad he could smell the stench from a long time ago. so when you and him were walking behind them, fingers interlocked. he stopped walking, and it made you stop too, "what's wrong, 'toru?"

"let's go," he tugged you in the opposite direction from where your friends are walking to, "they don't deserve you."

the male was very upset for you. he wasted no time driving you home with him, giving you the love you deserved (and a pep talk on why you should never ever talk to your friends again).

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

toji didn't even care whether he knows your friends or not. but when you convinced him that they wanted to meet him, he agreed (begrudgingly).

and everything went south when he noticed the different way they react to you — and to him. you and your friends were a trio.

it's always a trio. he never gets it, he's seen his fair share of shitty friendships among people. that's why he doesn't have friends (or people don't want to befriend him, doesn't matter).

it wasn't even a trio any more. it was a duo, with you on the side. toji noticed the subtle way they share a look to each other whenever you start talking — or the way they nudge each other when you do something. god, it pisses him off.

he swore if you weren't there, he'd resort to violence.

when you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, toji of course takes the chance to give a small talk (straight up threatening) to them. he waved to you vaguely as you walk towards the direction of the restroom.

"don't ever fucking talk to my partner again after this. y'hear me?"

the mood plummeted and you realized after you came back from the restroom. but you said nothing about it.

and like toji threatened, your friends never talked or contacted you ever again. which obviously saddened you — but the male told you how shitty they are and that it was a good thing they're not talking to you anymore.

to this day, you still didn't know it was toji behind it all.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

he has no shame in speaking his mind. and he immediately sensed how your friends were treating you differently from the first time he sees them. the male wastes no time giving them the eyes, where he was clearly telling them to fuck off.

when you and your friends (and him) decided to take a break inside a restaurant, he was pissed. sukuna, didn't even want to come with at the first place — he actually forced himself to come for you. he wanted to make sure your friends knew their place.

he has a bold tongue. sukuna is spicy with his words, he could care less about what people think of him. so the second he hears a disrespectful comment from either one of your friends directed to you to make you feel like you're the odd one out, the male glowered at them.

"mind repeating that?" he questions calmly, but something in his voice was intimidating. as if he was about to jump up from his seat and strangle the hell out of your friends.

of course, your friends were silent. afraid of him.

"exactly." the male stood up, tugging you along with him out of the restaurant, "what friends you have."

you were embarrassed at the comment, and sukuna sensed that too. even if he was tempted to say more things about your friends — he held back. for you.

"you don't need friends. what more do you need than me?"

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄

believe me when i say that he contemplated using his cursed speech technique on your friends. he had seen you come back from a night out with your friends, upset and teary eyed.

and from that day, he's always hated them. so when you said that you were going to hang out with them again — inumaki followed you, trailing after you like a lost puppy.

actually — scratch that, you were the lost puppy. trailing after your friends, behind them like you aren't even a part of the group. if it weren't for inumaki being there, it would just be you alone.

inumaki mutters out a lot of, "salmon" and "tuna mayo" to you. fuming.

you grabbed his hand, swinging it happily. at this point, you didn't even care about your friends — as long as inumaki was there, you didn't feel alone like you used to. so you did what you had to do since long ago.

ditch them.

"thank you for being here, toge."

inumaki was happy now, no longer in a foul mood, and he squeezed your hand, "tuna mayo!"

a little translation: "i'm hungry."

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nanamiscocksleeve · 16 days ago

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LADS Men With a Plus Size Reader

Warnings: None! This is actually very fluffy! Maybe PG13 at most! (OMG NCS, no smut?!😲😲😲) A/N: Finally, got around to writing one of the promised headcanons! Now, allow me to be clear here. The amount of customization the game allows is incredible but MC is a little bit on the smaller side, and I would have loved to see an option for a more robust body build. The same way there are naturally thin and petite women, there are also bigger and more rounded women as well and I think there was an opportunity lost there. Anyone that tries to hate on this will be blocked immediately.

Zayne:

Zayne’s large hand envelopes yours as you walk to the cafe he’d recommended. You knew it was popular amongst the hospital staff and weren’t surprised to see familiar faces; one of the tables was completely occupied by some of Zayne’s surgical nurses.

“Why don’t you get a table?” Zayne brushes a kiss on top of your hair. “And I’ll get the food. Do you still want a hazelnut latte with your cake?”

“Yes please!” Zayne’s eyes fill with warmth as he squeezes your hand before walking towards the cashier. You wander over and pick a table near the nurses. You take out your phone and start to browse Instagram when a snide voice is heard from the table behind you.

“Gross.”

You freeze but don’t dare turn around. Maybe it wasn’t directed at you.

“That’s Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend?”

Shit it was.

“Why is he with that porker?”

“You’d think a man like that would have better taste.”

“I heard that they were childhood friends. He’s probably dating her out of pity.”

Even as your blood rages, you feel tears pricking the backs of your eyes. Were they aware you could hear them? And they had just said your worst fears out loud; that Zayne was dating you as a favor, not because he was actually into you. It was an old insecurity you hadn’t really grown out of. You startle slightly as Zayne suddenly sits down opposite you, food and beverages in hand. He sets down your coffee and cake while taking his own plate and tea off the tray.

“Why are you so upset?” He immediately observes the distress on your face and the way your eyes are glistening. You shake your head and dab at your eyes with a napkin, Zayne watching you intently. The cute slice of cake he’s gotten for you sits temptingly in line with your vision but right now it might as well be a lump of clay, all appetite for it gone.

Zayne’s eyes flick to the cake and back to you. “Did I get the wrong one?”

You’re about to shake your head no when the conversation at the table behind you picks up again. Clearly, they hadn’t noticed Zayne sitting down.

“He deserves so much more than that blob. There are so many attractive women at the hospital.”

“I agree. He could get anyone he wanted. Someone who actually takes care of their health and watches their figure.”

Shame fills you and you’re unable to look at Zayne in the eyes, knowing he had heard them, even though you know it was far from the truth. You ate all your vegetables and exercised frequently. But your body just refused to slim down no matter what you did. No matter how much you tried to lose weight, the weight just didn’t want to lose you. You’re about to get up and leave when Zayne speaks up, loud and clear, in a scathing tone.

“Right, because weight is the only indicator of a person’s health, isn’t it?” Zayne’s words drip with sarcasm.

The entire nurses’ table jumps at his voice, turning around to look at him.

“Oh, Dr. Zayne! We weren’t-”

“I don’t care what you weren’t doing. Do not talk about anyone that way, patient or not. Were you not taught compassion as part of your medical training? Or is it reserved for people who look a certain way?” His eyes are narrowed and the table looks tense. One by one the nurses start to get up, quietly murmuring apologies to him as they exit the cafe.

Zayne watches them go, anger still visible in his eyes before turning his attention back to you. His hand covers yours on top of the table. “Are you all right?”

You sniff. “I try. You know I try. I cook all my meals. I exercise. We work out together. But I can’t get the weight to go away.”

“No sweetheart. I know how much you take care of yourself.” Zayne reaches across the table to wipe your tears. “You do not have to lose any weight. You’re perfectly healthy, and as long as that’s clear, nothing else matters.”

“You’re not dating me out of pity?” You look at him uncertainly.

“Pity?” Zayne chuckles in disbelief. “Darling when you first started coming to my office I was sure you were out of my league.” His thumb strokes your hand reassuringly.

“You’re so amazing. Talented, compassionate, considerate. And all those things will always matter more to me than anything else.”

He looks at your neglected slice of cake. “Now don’t take out your sadness on the dessert. If you don’t finish it in 5 minutes, it’s mine.”

Rafayel:

You grip your wrap firmly around your shoulders, stepping with grace into the dazzling venue. You never missed Rafayel’s shows if you could help it but this time around, you had a skin in the game. Literally.

One night after a round of passionate lovemaking, you had woken to find Rafayel painting, and when you saw what he was working on, you’d blushed and smacked him on the shoulder.

There, in the brush strokes, he had painted you sleeping on his bed, your hair in disarray as it cascaded down your back, your face buried into the pillow and not quite visible. The sheets covered you modestly but the wide curve of your hips, the pudges of fat at your side, and the bra rolls under your arms were all painted with clarity and you found you couldn’t look at it. A feeling of unease had settled in your stomach. Was this the way your boyfriend viewed you?

You had brought it up to Rafayel in a small voice. “Do you think I’m fat?”

Your heart sank as Rafayel’s face, which had been so soft, a curve in his lips as he had painted, changed into a mask of dismay. “Fat?” he had asked, looking quite upset. “Where in this painting have I made you look fat?”

“Here. And here.” You point out the areas and Rafayel pulls you against him, holding you fiercely.

“Cutie, I swear to God I’m just painting you as you are. I don’t think you look fat at all. I’m just painting my beautiful girlfriend in all her glory.” Crushed against his chest, you try to talk.

“But, most women in paintings don’t look like that, they have smaller hips and thighs and mine look so…ugly.”

You thought Rafayel’s heart might have broken as he heard your word of choice. “There’s nothing about you that’s ugly. None of this is ugly. It’s a body. Your body. And baby I love every inch of it exactly as it is. I didn’t mean to make you sad while I painted all the pretty little pieces of you that make you whole.” His hands trace your sides, squeezing you reassuringly.

“There’s so much beauty in you baby. That’s all I see in this painting. You’ll always be the biggest masterpiece in my life.”

Knowing he held you in such high esteem had done wonders for your confidence, which was what you were trying to emulate as you walked into the gallery. Rafayel had hesitantly asked for your permission to showcase that painting for this show, promising he’d never use it without your consent. Nervous as you were, part of you was actually thrilled that it was going to be used. It was difficult to make out who the subject in the portrait was since your face wasn’t entirely visible.

Still, it felt like an out-of-body experience as you approached the hung canvas, observing the crowd that flocked to it. Some people nodded at it quietly before moving on, others commented under their breath that Rafayel should have chosen a more appropriate model.

“Can you imagine this woman being naked in his bed?” One of them asked and her friends snickered sycophantically. “He must have been drunk or something.”

“And why is that?” You turn in time to see Rafayel, dressed sharply in a couture outfit approach you and pull you to his side, his hand resting possessively on the jut of your hip. The woman backpedals.

“Mr. Rafayel! I mean, obviously, your work is unique but I can’t help but wonder what you might have been trying to convey when you painted someone with such a…heavy structure.”

Rafayel pretends to consider her words. “I suppose…people have different views on what beauty is. All I was trying to convey was how much I loved the person in the painting. Anyone that doesn’t see the beauty in this particular painting, well I’m afraid they have poor taste.”

Grinning at the affronted look on her face, Rafayel whisks you away, but not before you throw her a smug smirk over your shoulder.

Sylus:

Who knew underground mafia bosses loved their parties as much as their money? As strange as it was, the cliques had started becoming familiar with you hanging around. Anytime Sylus was invited to a gathering, it was expected that you were his plus one. While most of the men entertained polite conversation with you, it was no secret how coveted Sylus was by the women in the N109 zone.

They wrinkled their noses as you walked by, your head held high, knowing you shouldn’t let their words get to you but it was hard. You tell the bartender your order and put a $100 bill into the tip jar. After all, you couldn’t embarrass Sylus by handing out a miserly tip when he was supposed to be the richest man here.

You knew you looked good enough to kill; Sylus had chosen the gown you were wearing himself, even hiring a personal tailor to fit the dress to flaunt your best assets and a thick choker of diamonds glittered on your neck. The plunging V-line of the dress showed off a tempting display of creamy cleavage, the bodice of the dress pushing up your impressive bosom. The material crept over your belly and hips, your fupa visible a little more than you would have liked but Sylus had refused to hear otherwise. You remember the way his hands had caressed the bulge of fat after helping you zip up the gown, his low, contented, purr ringing in your ears.

“Kitten, you’re going to be every man’s envy tonight. How delightful that I get to flaunt you as mine.”

A group of women, all model-thin and gorgeous, approach the bar, their cold eyes fixed on you, wearing smiles that could cut glass. Your fingers drum nervously on the counter as you try to ignore them. One of the women spies the tip you had put in and jerks her chin at you, her lips twisting into what looks like a sneer.

“So Sylus has the money to let you throw around $100 bills into tip jars. I wonder…” She pauses and the group draws collectively closer like a cackle of hyenas. “Wouldn’t his finances be more wisely spent on other avenues?”

“Such as?” You ask carefully.

“A good plastic surgeon perhaps? Lord knows you could use some liposuction in more places than one.” Her entourage leers at you while covering their mouths to stifle their laughter.

Your back stiffens and your eyes widen in shock. You resist the urge to cover your middle. You knew you should have pushed harder to have the gown loosened. Your fupa, the soft squidge that bulged under the material of the dress…it was a mistake thinking you could attend a party with it showing up so obviously.

A million retorts form in your head but they all die weakly on your tongue. You had no defense, and you felt pathetic that you were sitting here and taking their abuse but your mind felt frozen, like you couldn’t plan your next move.

“How did you ever think that someone like you could pull off a dress like that?” The woman presses, her eyes boring into yours. Your pulse quickens as you try to find a way to escape.

“You’re right, she can’t pull off a dress like that.” A rich, deep voice answers the woman who pales as she sees Sylus drape his arm possessively around your shoulders. “It’ll wrinkle. That’s why I’ll be pulling it off for her as soon as we get home.”

His eyes flash scarlet as he signals to the bartender, who immediately starts pouring him a drink and expediting your cocktail, setting both glasses on coasters in front of you. You flush but try not to look too pleased as you take a sip, feeling the alcohol loosen you.

“Mr. Sylus.” The woman’s voice changes immediately and she steps back. “We were just talking about fashion.” she fibs hastily, trying to cover up her reason for using the word ‘dress’.

“Fashion?” Sylus looks at her patronizingly. “Do tell.”

Caught, she wets her lips before saying, “Oh we were talking about jeans and how they never fit or have pockets-”

“Hmm. I can understand these problems. After all, jeans without pockets are like women without curves…there’s nowhere to put your hands.” His broad hand shifts to your hip, his fingers subtly signaling it is time for you to go. You pick up your glass and Sylus holds onto you firmly as you walk back to the crowd.

Xavier:

You’re sweaty as you and Xavier walk back from the office gym to the locker rooms. Xavier drinks from his water bottle, swallowing zealously. “I think we’ve exercised enough for a whole week,” he says as you walk. You laugh and shake your head.

“We only did a half hour of cardio!”

“Yeah, but we lifted all those weights too! In fact, my muscles already feel stronger.” Xavier flexes his arm and a visible bicep forms, making you grin.

“Oh so strong,” you say as you reach out to squeeze. Xavier winces slightly and you quickly withdraw. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m a little sore.” You reach the locker rooms.“I’ll wait for you outside.”

You nod and he disappears into the men's locker room. You wander into the women’s, undo the lock, and retrieve your bag, finding a stall to change your clothes. You peel off your damp leggings which stick to your plushy thighs and you drag them down, sighing in relief as the skin jiggles freely in the cool air after being stuffed in the heat of polyester for so long.

The skin on your butt and stomach are dimpled, something you’d come to terms with. You recall how nervous you’d been to let Xavier see you in a bathing suit at the pool but now you barely glance at them.

“It’s like your skin is smiling at me when I kiss it.”

That’s what Xavier had said as he kissed the soft flesh lovingly. Who could possibly feel self-conscious after that analogy? As you fold away the sweaty clothes into a garment bag, you hear several of the other changing room doors open and a group of voices fills the locker room as you change. You normally wouldn’t have paid attention but you freeze when you hear Xavier’s name.

“Why do you think Xavier works out with her of all people?”

“I know! They workout together like almost everyday and she hasn’t lost any weight!”

“She probably lacks the discipline to go on a real diet. It doesn’t matter how much she exercises, that fat isn’t going to go away if she doesn’t eat healthier.”

“Xavier really needs to find a better workout buddy. She only slows him down.”

Your heart clenches in your chest as you hear the cruel commentary. How dare these women talk about your body like it was a source of entertainment for them? Both rage and sorrow fills you as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Suddenly all you can see are the flaws.

How cute, to call cellulite ‘dimpled skin’ like it was something to be adored. You stare at the lumpy skin, at the way your stomach and arms have stretch marks everywhere, the way your skin bulges over the band of your bra. You wait in silence as the women finish their chat and you hear them exit the locker room.

After what seemed like ages, you finally finish dressing and leave the changing room feeling humiliated. The post-workout glow had all but vanished from your system and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being perceived like a huge, hulking, ogre; built big and lumberingly, not at all cute like the princess Xavier claimed you were. You leave the dressing room, then stare in disbelief as the same group of women crowd around Xavier as he waits for you. You lurk, not wanting to be seen, then one of the women speaks up.

“Xavier, if you’re looking for another workout buddy I’d be happy to tag along.” One of them chirps perkily.

Xavier chuckles politely and shakes his head. “Thank you, but no. I have a workout buddy.”

“Oh cmon Xavier, don’t you think you need someone who can challenge you a little more?”

“I do actually. That’s why I work out with her.”

“Does she really challenge you?”

“I think she challenges me more than you. Didn't you finish last in the company relay race?” The woman’s face falls and your heart skips a beat.

“And you,” Xavier says as he turns to face another woman. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but you struggle to push anything more than 75 pounds. My workout buddy does 150 easily. She’s very strong. Perhaps you might benefit from training with her.” The second woman looks offended even as she’s being chastised.

Feeling your confidence soar, you skip over to Xavier feeling as light as a feather. Xavier’s eyes light up as you approach. “Ladies,” you say smugly to their scandalized faces before pulling Xavier away from them, holding his arm as you walk away.

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screampied · 10 months ago

Note

horny reader sending toji soapy titties pics when he's out so he gets home and makes her cum by just playing with her nipples and talking her through it :3

۫ ⭒ toji talking you through an órgasm after you tease him with pics while he’s at work

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, praise / mdni.

you always loathed whenever toji had work, meaning he’d be gone for so many hours.

boredom always overtook you.

you’d be laid on the bed, specifically his side of the bed while having a staring contest with the ceiling. nevertheless, you get an idea so you decide to take a nice relaxing bubble bath. with a good thirty minutes of straight silence—you reach for your phone, snapping a good two pictures of tits. the pretty bubbles of soap that ran down, you bring a hand up to give your nipple a soft squeeze as the camera flashed before sending it to toji.

giggling, you watch as the message immediately goes straight to read, meaning toji opened your picture immediately.

of course, it took toji about thirty seconds to actually reply — all he replies with is with a subtle, “That’s cute. I’ll be home in a few.”

deeply in thought, you pondered what that was about, you just couldn’t wait for toji to finally be home. you clearly missed him and even changed into something pretty for him.

nothing too risqué….

just one of his oversized shirts, you knew he loved whenever you walked around with nothing but one of his clothings. after drying yourself off and moisturizing with candied smelling lotion. you crawled back into the bed and as if right on cue, toji came through the door.

“toji!” you’d beam, stretching your arms out and about to hug him.

“nah baby, don’t touch me.” he grumbles in a gruff voice—you took in his scent, a strong rousing cologne scent that left you craving for more. he got into the bed and you gasp once he lifts up your ; his shirt. “you know you’re in trouble right?”

you grow quiet as he snuggles up against you, sliding off his shoes before bringing your straight into his arms. “what for?”

“girl,” he utters in a rasp, you let off a soft moan once toji drags you towards his lap—you’re facing the opposite way of him, and a rough hand of his grabs onto your right tit. “you’ve got some nerve, princess. not only were you touching yourself while i wasn’t here, but you also sent pictures of yourself to me while i was at work,” and you start to softly pant, feeling him swipe a thumb against your perky nipple. “what if i was around people huh? and they saw my cute baby all exposed ‘n provocative?”

“i’m…s-sorry, you huffed out a frustrated breath. his touch was so warm. you started to feel yourself getting heated, in that kind of way. the way that makes you drenched between your thighs. “you were gone all day ‘n i thought i’d show you myse—”

“i understand princess but you shouldn’t be touching yourself in the first place,” and for a moment his voice grew smooth and tender—you slump your head back against his chest before he moved his free hand towards between your legs. “what’d i tell you about touching yourself, girl? besides, ya can’t even do it properly.”

you heard the low snicker follow shortly afterwards, and he was so smug and condescending.

“ya can’t even touch yourself right, what makes you think you can make yourself cum?” he murmurs against your neck before playfully licking a stripe against your tender skin.

you start to whimper, feeling him squeeze against your left breast, another rubbing against your panties.

“i-i can.” you pout, intaking a sharp breath from the sheer warmth to of his touch.

“baby, y’er fingers are fuckin’ useless,” he chuckles. you frown from his teasing before you let off a soft moan once you feel toji’s thick fingers graze and brush against the middle part of your panties. “gotta do everything for you,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your collarbone. he felt you breathing back against him. you gnaw on your lip as toji’s still playing with your breasts. “did you touch down here?”

your breathing continued to pick up, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second. “um, no.”

“um, yeah,” he hisses. toji’s jaw tightens and you let off a needy mewl once he runs a thumb down your slit before feeling it slowly sink in—you’re so wet it happens so easily, and your heads just lazily laid back against his chest. “if you didn’t touch yourself, how come you’re all drenched?”

“i was—”

“dumb soaked liars shouldn’t speak,” he cuts you off, and you moan once he presses a little pressure against your hardened nipple, feeling a bit a few droplets of water trickle down. “i don’t hold grudges though, especially not with you, baby,” and his words were tame and smooth right against your ear. “but i feel kinda bad. least i can do is give you an orgasm huh? ya want that, princess?”

you sniffle, giving his wrist a firm tug. “yesyes, please. touch me more.”

“shouldn’t do shit after that little slutty stunt you pulled,” he growls, and you moan once he starts to maneuver small circles against your cunt—two fingers now softly making its way inside. toji’s got your panties shoved to the side and your bottom lip quavers. “but…i don’t wanna make my baby more needy than she has to be.”

“toji,” you’d sulk, and the warmth of his breath forevermore continued to blow against your ear whenever he laughed. “make me cum, p-please.”

he was so smooth with his fingers, adding just enough pressure to where you’re feeling yourself grow hot and bothered each second.

“no one should see these girls but me,” he snickers, giving your nipple a soft squeeze. you were so sensitive, especially there—yet he knew that. “her too.” toji coyly grins, the top of his fingers prod against clit as he feels you bare around his digits. “can’t leave ya by yourself can i? i can just imagine how many others times you were here waiting, playing with yourself, hmpf.”

“it— it was just this one time.” you moaned, immense tension building up. a sudden breeze of from the cool air danced against your skin. toji smiles, knowing each exact angle to hit you with his fingers.

you remain sojourned against his chest, and toji brings his chin towards your right shoulder—you conceal an incoming moan once he’s just lightly ramming his fingers in and out of you. it’s sloppy, the plethora rings of squelches sang in harmony and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. “and it’ll be the last right, baby?”

“yes. promise, toji please.” you’d hiccup, and as he still has one of your breasts in the inner depths of his hand, your legs trembled in longing desire.

“okay,” he purrs, nipping a kiss towards your neck. you pierce your nails into his arm before after a few long tension building moments. you cum, and you cum hard. you eye sight hazy, swallowing thickly you panted heavily. “good girl, good messy girl. relax.”

you huffed and puffed quietly, legs stuttering and shaking with such pleasure that you’re at an almost lost for words. so embarrassing you could barely pronounciate his name. your words broke and broke. “t-to-joiiii.”

“poor baby,” he whispers, fingers still shoved into your pussy. it stays there for the time being before you feel him curl his index finger just a few inches upward towards your sweet nub and you choke out a cry. “ooh. that’s a good little girl,” and his praises went straight to your heart. toji’s hand caressingly trailed down your chest towards your tummy before clearing his throat. “this won’t happen again, will it?”

“m-maybe.” you slur, and you’re taken aback once he turns you over to give you a chaste kiss.

toji stares at you before groaning. “thought you’d say that. what a fuckin’ shame,” and you gasp out a noise once toji makes you land on your chest before giving your ass a playful spank. “i’ve been too nice, princess. now i gotta really show you what your pictures did to me. so arch for me.”

#★vegasbaby.#toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader #tw sex

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jjunieworld · 2 months ago

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I WANNA BE YOURS ˒˒ 최연준͏ ▸ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗰𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

after confessing your feelings and not getting the reaction you hoped for, you decided to cut contact and avoid yeonjun. the only thing is that he refuses to let you go that easily and is determined to show you that your two worlds can collide.

pairing ⸝⸝ choi yeonjun 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦!𝘣𝘦𝘰𝘮𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘥!𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ secret friends with benefits to ??? to lovers, angst, smut, secret relationship, opposites attract, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope, slice of life, college au

warnings ⸝⸝ heartbreak, unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service!top yeonjun, heavy praise kink, marking, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, multiple orgasms, a lot more desperation and neediness lmao, pussy drunk!yeonjun, body worship, clit stimulation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, some aftercare

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ hehe here’s part two finally for everybody who wanted it for ceilings!! this is inspired by the songs i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys and corner by sace6!! made it extra angsty for you guys since i know you all like the pain (me too) :3 hehe i hope that you like it as much as part one and that the ending is satisfying! (ʃƪ〃ﾟ3ﾟ〃)♡ enjoy my loves!!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 9k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you have been ignoring choi yeonjun, you can finally admit to it now. for a week you’ve been dodging him if you even caught a glimpse of his orange hair with blonde streaks.

you knew it was ridiculous, but how could you ever face him with what happened in your room the last time you saw him? the answer: you don’t face him at all.

of course he noticed, you were now actively avoiding him and not trying to hide it anymore. if you happened to be quickly scurrying past him to get to where you needed to be—which for the past week he always made sure to be near—you could feel his heavy gaze linger on you. yet, he hasn’t stopped by your room at all or even sent you a quick text.

there was now this… awkward tension between the two of you. tension that clearly neither of you knew how to address. and you could see it in his eyes, he wanted to say something to you so desperately, but he kept his mouth shut. and so did you. at this point, you were content in never opening your mouth again.

it’s gotten to the point where even his friends have been questioning him.

“do you know her? why are you staring at her so much?” they would ask him. his answer was always the same variation of this reply: “i’ve seen her around a couple times. we have some classes together.” followed by some lie he quickly made up off the top of his head to explain why his eyes were on you. never the truth.

the fact of the matter is that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, so what’s the point in continuing this secret relationship the two of you have? you were in love with him, but he wasn’t in love with you. two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—you’d never go together. the two of you should just part ways now while everything was all out on the table.

it was a mistake, confessing your feelings for him, but there was nothing you could do about it now but pretend it never happened. and pretend that you never got involved with choi yeonjun.

you pulled the turtleneck further up your neck as you ducked next to where the outside water fountains were, chest rising heavily as your eyes darted to the side. you hoped yeonjun didn’t see you. sighing to yourself softly, you pulled your phone out and checked the love bites on your neck. they were almost faded now, but every time you looked at them you can’t help but think of that night and a sharp pain erupts in your chest.

you moved to leave before you were suddenly cornered against the brick wall of the campus building you ducked behind. you smelt his familiar cologne before you saw his face and dyed hair. “we have to talk. you can’t keep avoiding me.”

your heartbeat suddenly picked up and you quickly swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. “we have nothing to talk about,” you replied, eyes locked on the band tee he was wearing.

it was a lie, you knew that. you knew that at some point the two of you had to talk about your confession, but you desperately wished he would just let it go and pretend like it never happened like you were.

“don’t bullshit me, y/n,” yeonjun countered, leaning into your ear.

you eyes traveled up to the skull necklace you have gifted him. slight surprise coursed through you at the fact that he still wore it—at the fact that he wore it at all. your eyes then locked on his and you gathered all the firmness you could to add to your stare.

“you clearly don’t feel the same way that i do, yeonjun. let’s just leave it at that.” as you spoke, a small group of students passed by the corner you both were tucked in. yeonjun frantically backed away from you and checked your surroundings, eyes darting from place to place.

you scoffed to yourself. how ridiculous. “you don’t even want to be seen in public with me,” you continued, deep hurt creeping in the edges of your voice.

yeonjun’s eyes darted back to yours and he quickly stepped towards you. “it’s complicated,” he said.

“it’s… complicated...” you shook your head at him in disbelief as you slowly repeated his words, words growing in volume as you went on. “it isn’t, yeonjun. it really isn’t. trigonometry is complicated, this is—”

“i want to be with you,” he interrupted, voice just above a whisper, and grabbed your hands in his. yeonjun’s face was pleading, and almost desperate, but you were done. you were done being second choice to whatever he put ahead of you.

for months you were with him in the four corners of your room and you didn’t share a single complaint as long as the two of you were together. but now that he didn’t even want to be seen with you where others could possibly see, you were done.

you snatched your hands from his and yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up. “in secret! without any strings attached—but i can’t keep doing this with you. i can’t be with someone who only wants to be with me in private, who doesn’t want to be with me at all. i won’t allow myself.”

as you were pouring your everything onto the floor in front of yeonjun, you watched as he still glanced around the two of you, making sure that nobody was listening to your words. in real time, you felt your heart crack and shatter into a million pieces. all you could do was sigh defeatedly.

you turned towards the building you were originally heading for, no doubt late for the class you were supposed to be at, and began walking off. you felt yeonjun’s hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back.

your mouth opened in protest but the sound was quickly smothered as his lips smashed onto yours. you froze, heartbeat racing even further. hate sunk deep into the pit of your stomach. you hated how you melted into his touch and how your heart beat so fast it felt like it might explode. you hated how good his lips felt on yours—how familiar they felt and how much you missed the feeling.

you pushed him away from you, shock clear on your face as you looked up at him. in the seconds it took you to register that he just kissed you again for the first time after a week, your eyes darted to the side. to the completely empty campus. not a soul could be seen for miles. you looked back at him.

tears sprang to your eyes and this time you couldn’t stop the ones that managed to escape in his presence. you shook your head once again. “it’s over, yeonjun.” you broke free of him, hurt now showing through full force in your voice. “whatever we had… it’s over.”

you walked off, leaving his frozen figure behind you.

pushing your textbooks to the side, you sighed heavily to yourself. no matter what you did, you couldn’t focus—and that was unusual for you when it came to your studies. exams were just around the corner and you couldn’t afford to be distracted.

you removed your glasses and pinched the bridge of your nose. the only thing that stuck in your mind was your last conversation with yeonjun. slumping down onto the table in front of you, you looked around at the quiet library. you just couldn’t understand it.

did the opinions of his friends and strangers really matter that much to him? were you really not enough for him that he just had to keep you secret? what was it? yeonjun claimed that he wanted the two of you together, but he hesitates at the two of you being seen in public together. it made your mind twist and run in circles trying to figure it all out.

if he just wanted to be friends with benefits, why not find someone else? he could’ve saved you both the trouble. and you were sure there would be people jumping at the opportunity of that kind of relationship with him—but, not you.

you put your glasses back on as you sighed again. you hated to think it, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that ran through your head. what could you do to be enough for him?

how could you change yourself so that he wasn’t ashamed to be with you?

did you have to dye your hair a bright color? get rid of your argyle sweaters and longer-length skirts and instead wear darker clothes, more shorter skirts, and listen to the same rock music that he did? sport the frilly black dresses or the tighter, more vibrant clothing his female friends did? be more opinionated and vulgar and really speak your mind?

it was clear that you weren’t retaining any information from your textbooks. you started to pack up, returning books back to where you found them and putting your notebooks back in your bag. you thought over every interaction you’ve ever had with yeonjun; how every moment led you to where the two of you were now. you could only think of one thing.

maybe you and yeonjun were two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—and maybe you were trying too hard to force yourselves to fit together. maybe doing so has pushed you and yeonjun into a corner that neither of you knew how to get out of now.

without realizing the time, night had fallen around you and you stepped out into the coldness of the outside world. you looked up towards the starless sky.

perhaps the two of you should just stick to what you both know, instead of trying to go outside of the box.

yeonjun twirled the small skull necklace that you had gifted him between his fingers as he zoned out from the conversation his friends were having. he thought back to that night almost two weeks ago now, how you basically confessed that you were in love with him in your room. it still caught him off guard.

at first he thought that you were joking, until your heavy silence followed immediately after. he wanted to go back and say something other than what he did—wanted to kick himself for hesitating. yeonjun wanted to kick himself now for still hesitating.

he wasn’t exactly sure how to describe the feelings he felt for you, this whole thing was new to him. yeonjun didn’t do relationships. but, it was clear that you did. and he wanted you.

yeonjun wasn’t the flashy type or the openly affectionate type either. he honestly wasn’t sure that he could give you what you so desperately wanted from him. yet, he just couldn’t seem to let go of you either. was it selfish? yes. but, yeonjun didn’t care. not when you were slipping from his grasp.

with the other girls he’s been with it was easy. they never fell for him or expected more than the physical relationship that he had with them. they all knew what they were getting and took it at face value for what it was. but you were different—and he was different with you. yeonjun couldn’t explain to himself what set you apart, there was just something about you. all he knew was that he liked the change. he liked the different relationship the two of you had, and he was willing to do anything to keep it.

yeonjun just so happened to glance up as you were scurrying across the campus yard a couple feet away from him. he saw the way that you tried to avoid his stare, but still snuck the quickest of looks in his direction, trying to disguise it as you pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. the corners of his lips rose the slightest bit. he had to talk to you again, make you see that calling off what the two of you had was the wrong choice.

a finger snapped in his face and his eyes focused back to his friends. “where has your head been at lately?” his friend, beomgyu, asked. he turned, his long brown hair falling into his eyes as he followed yeonjun’s gaze, “and what is it with you and that girl?”

yeonjun straightened as he tore his gaze away from you and brought beomgyu’s attention back to him. “nothing, i was just zoned out.” he purposefully ignored beomgyu’s second question.

beomgyu thankfully turned back to him, his eyes now focusing on something else entirely. “where did you get that necklace? you’ve never worn one before that.”

“uh, i don’t know? some random store i was getting clothes from, it caught my eye—why are you asking me so many questions? mind your business.” he dropped the necklace from his fingers. yeonjun didn’t have time to explain something he wasn’t quite sure of himself, not when he had to catch up to you. “i gotta go,” yeonjun quickly added, pushing away from his group of friends as he jogged in the direction you went in.

behind him, he heard beomgyu say to his other friends, “you think him and that girl are involved?” another one of his friends’ voices piped up. “the nerd? definitely not. she’s not his type.”

“i don’t know…” beomgyu trailed, “they would look cute together. there’s gotta be something happening at the very least.”

thankfully you hadn’t gone that far and yeonjun was able to catch up to you easily. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from prying eyes and somewhere more private. you turned in his grasp, looking up at him with an almost defeated and annoyed look.

“this can’t be over,” he started. you looked around before turning to walk away, but not before yeonjun held your wrist again, keeping you in place. “tell me what to do to fix this—help me fix this.”

yeonjun was kicking himself again for not knowing the words to express what he wanted to say. suddenly all the vocabulary he’d ever fucking learned disappears when he tries to talk to you and he ends up a bumbling mess.

“help you fix this?” you repeated.

yeonjun nodded, “yes. i wanna be with you—i wanna be yours. if you want a relationship, then we can have one.”

you tilted your head to the side and adjusted your glasses as you looked at him. “so if i were to go up to your friends with you right now and introduce myself as your girlfriend you wouldn’t have a problem with it?” you asked him, glancing back to the direction yeonjun came from mere moments before. yeonjun hesitated, stammering over his words. his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth.

you just scoffed to yourself at him. “you still don’t get it,” you said. “i don’t want to be another girl that you hook up with—another girl that you like. i want to be the girl that you like. i want to be more.”

hatred bubbled up inside you and threatened to spill over at the fact that you were still in love with him. at the fact that you were still wrapped around his finger to the point that you almost jumped at the opportunity of a relationship. yeonjun was just saying that to appease you—to get you naked and under him again and have things return to the way they were before.

resentment started to build towards yeonjun at the secrecy. it was a lot easier to blame him for how your relationship went up in flames instead of how flawed it was to begin with. besides, it felt good to restrict yourself from him—to have him stare at you as you passed while you ignored him instead, even if you still missed him and his touch.

you knew that this was all doing more harm than good, but right now you just couldn’t seem to care. maybe yeonjun’s attitude was finally starting to rub off on you and he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

yeonjun’s brows knitted together at your words. “you are the girl that i like,” he said, “there’s nobody else but you.”

you stared at him for a moment in silence. in a melancholic voice you asked, “why do you like me?”

yeonjun could feel you drifting further and further away from him and he didn’t like it. he wanted to pin you to his chest so that you always stayed close—like the necklace around his neck you gave him. his mind raced and there felt like there was sand in his mouth as he raced against the hourglass of time that the two of you had left—and still, he came up empty once again.

it wasn’t that he didn’t have any reasons for liking you—he had plenty—it was just that there were so many that his brain short-circuited. if you just gave him the time and a pen and paper he could make whole novels. but time was running out and yeonjun watched as your face fell more and more the longer the seconds ticked by.

“because of the sex?” you asked, voice raising. yeonjun looked around the two of you before sighing and cupping your face with his hands as he shook his head. something inside him cracked at the way your eyes started to become glassy. “does the thrill of you sneaking into my window at night knowing that nobody would ever expect the two of us together excite you?” you continued. “genuinely, what is it, yeonjun? help me understand.”

glassy tears fell down your cheeks and yeonjun felt himself shatter. he tried to pull you closer to him, to comfort you, but you pushed him away. you shook your head as your gaze dropped to the ground. “you really know how to break my heart in two, don’t you?” you asked in a small voice as you looked up at him, completely defeated.

you turned and moved to leave. yeonjun tried to grab your hand, but the only thing he was able to grasp was the fleeting touch of your fingertips against his as you got further away from him. he stood completely rooted to the spot you left him in, frozen, as he watched you disappear.

suddenly everything yeonjun wanted to say to you crashed into him like a wave, but he was too late. he twisted towards the trash can next to him and gave it an angry and harsh kick, causing it to fly across the grass. students passing by jumped at the sudden noise and looked yeonjun’s way, but he couldn’t care less.

yeonjun buried his head in his hands and pulled at the tips of his hair. “fuck!” he yelled, running his hands messily through his hair. he looked up and saw a couple of students looking at him. “what the fuck are you looking at?” he angrily called out to them as he briskly walked away.

whether you intended to or not, you started to change yourself. your sweaters got darker, your skirts got shorter, and you even started to put on a hint of eyeliner before leaving. when you looked at yourself in the mirror it almost felt like there was a stranger staring back; it was you but it wasn’t at the same time. like you were wearing a cheap costume and pretending to be something that you weren’t.

you withdrawled more and more into yourself, only really emerging to take your exams and to study. you felt so bleak that even the darkness of your clothes didn’t light a match onto the way you felt inside. even your friends started to notice.

“so is this a new look you’re going for?” taehyun asked, his eyes looking over you. you shrugged and finished writing the sentence you were writing in your notebook. “i never even seen you wear black before and… is—is that eyeliner?” he added, moving closer to you until you were face to face.

you made a face and pushed him away. “it’s makeup and clothes, why does it matter to you?” you bit back, tone sharp. you didn’t mean to be so snappy with taehyun, it seemed you haven’t had the patience lately. you shifted in your seat, adjusting your skirt and sweater. the weather was getting colder during the daytime, so you decided to wear some black tights and boots.

taehyun just gave you a look, “you don’t seem yourself—you haven’t been yourself, y/n. what’s going on with you?” you looked back at him with a glare, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

scoffing, you hurriedly threw your things back into your bag. “nothing,” you pushed out, “i am completely myself. just because i wear different clothes and makeup from time to time doesn’t mean i’m not myself.” you stood from the table and threw your bag over your shoulders.

adjusting your skirt again, you swirled to where taehyun still sat, a shocked expression on his face from your outburst. “maybe you should learn to not stick your nose into other people’s business.” with that, you stormed out of the student lounge.

you were heading towards the library to continue studying when your phone buzzed. you fished it from your bag, seeing what it was from. you stopped dead in your tracks right in the middle of the sidewalk. it was yeonjun.

the wall you had painstakingly built up around you started to crack as you read his incoming messages and you felt your knees start to get weak. you were doing so well ignoring and avoiding him, how could you let a simple text from him have all of it come crashing down?

yeonjun: baby. yeonjun: i really need to talk to you.

you have come so far with shutting him out of your heart, yet one little message has all of your love for him flood back into you. why now? it’s been weeks, you were finally starting to try to move on; why would he make you love him again?

it was enough to feel his eyes on you—always on you, no matter where you went anywhere in his presence. you could almost hear his voice in your head with the way he radiated onto you. you knew he wanted to talk to you again, but he held back. it angered you. for once you just wanted him to spit it out, spit out the words hiding behind his tongue instead of always holding back.

you wanted him to fight for you, to show you that he cares about you—you, and not just what you could offer him. not your help with his studies, not the excitement he got from sneaking around with you, and not the sex. you wanted him to hold you like he never wanted to let you go ever again. and if you tried hard enough, you could almost feel his skin on yours again—and damn if you didn’t miss it all.

you heaved in a shaky breath as you stared at the messages. with another shaky breath, you pushed your phone back into your bag and kept walking to the library.

another starless night greeted you as you finished all the work you needed to do today. the cold air nipped at your cheeks and you made your way through the quiet streets back to your apartment.

you pushed open your front door, thankful to finally be home and take some of the stress off your back. you dropped your bag near the entrance and made your way to your room so you could shower the day away.

opening your bedroom door, you froze in complete shock. yeonjun sat on your floor, his back pressed up against the bottom edge of your bed as he idly flipped through one of your textbooks. he looked up at your entrance and his eyes immediately flicked over you. yeonjun flipped the textbook closed without looking at it and tossed it to the side as he stood.

you inhaled sharply, your brows drawing together. mentally, you cursed yourself for stupidly forgetting to lock your window. it’s been unlocked for yeonjun for so long now that you completely forgot about it. you stumbled over your words as yeonjun took a step closer to you. “w-what the fuck?” you murmured.

yeonjun raised a brow at your words.

he took another step towards you and his eyes trailed along your body, taking in every inch of you. “you look… different,” yeonjun said, his eyes finally meeting yours. it almost made you collapse. “it seems like i’m finally rubbing off on you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat as you stepped into the room. you moved to your dresser and began taking out some pajamas, turning your back towards yeonjun so he didn’t see the way you hands shook. “why are you here?” you spoke. your mouth felt dry and your voice came out almost hoarse.

behind you, you heard yeonjun’s footsteps move closer to you. “i needed to see you,” he replied. “hear your voice again… i missed you.”

when you didn’t respond, yeonjun gently grabbed your arm. sparks exploded from his touch and your heart rate picked up. you sat the clothes on the top of your dresser and tightened your hands into fists. “talk to me, baby. we can’t keep just passing by each other like we don’t know one another,” yeonjun added, his voice low in the quiet room.

you turned to face him, your face full of anger. “what? now it’s too much when i ignore you but it wasn’t when you were ignoring me?” you pushed him away from you and moved towards where your desk was to get away from him. “now that you’re getting a taste of how i feel, it's bitter, huh? it’s rotting you to the core, isn’t it?” you added sarcastically.

yeonjun looked at you from across the room, “it is. it fucking is and it sucks and i’m sorry. i never knew you felt this way. if i did, i never would’ve put you through it.” yeonjun took a couple steps towards you and you held out a hand to stop him. “but, i know now. i know now and i’ll make a million promises to never put you through it again.” you scoffed.

“you bring out the best in me,” yeonjun said, running a hand through his faded dyed hair. “we bring out the best in each other, you know that. and this… this isn’t you, y/n.”

you rose your chin slightly in defiance. “and what if this is me?” you countered. “don’t you like it?”

yeonjun hummed and for a moment he was quiet. you could see the gears turning and turning in his head as he took in your appearance once again, making his way closer and closer to you until he stood mere inches away from you. you watched as his eyes dragged up your body before finally connecting with yours once more. “i like the real you,” yeonjun said.

your little defiant act fell flat and you looked away from him, licking your lips.

“i like your preppy looking clothes and how it makes you light up a room. i like the way your glasses fall down when you’re focusing on something too hard to notice and i have to adjust them for you—i like how you don’t even notice that i do it sometimes.” yeonjun took a small step towards you and your breath hitched. he reached forward and adjusted your glasses for you.

the tips of his fingers grazed over your cheek and you felt the fire light underneath you, making heat spread all throughout your body. you looked at him again, his eyes boring into yours and softening at your gaze. without realizing it, you leaned into his touch.

yeonjun continued, the pad of his thumb dragging along your chin. “i like how soft your skin is, and the way it feels against mine. i like the way i can feel your body heat up like a crackling fire when i touch you and how your heart thumps out of your skin. i like feeling you close to me.” he then closed the distance between the two of you so that you were now pressed close to him.

the heat of his body thawed you completely; crumbled down the walls you built and forced out the feelings you desperately tried to hide. yeonjun took in every inch of your face, like it was one he hasn’t seen for centuries, as he spoke, “i like how when we’re apart, i crave you. i like the way my body reacts to yours everytime you’re near. it’s like you send a shockwave through me and every fiber of my being is alight; like i finally see clearly—and all i want to look at is you. i didn’t understand what it all meant, why you felt so different—why i felt so different, but i do now. i like who i am when i’m with you.”

his lips brushed at the shell of your ear, “i like that we’re different. i like that we drive each other crazy, because then it means that we care about each other. i like you. not some other girl, not this version of you that you think i’d like—you.” yeonjun’s lips were feather-light across your jaw. he was so close to you that if you were to lean forward the slightest bit, your lips would meet. “enough with all of this. let me feel you again.”

yeonjun pressed his lips to your in the most searing kiss you’ve ever had in your life. like you were the flint and he was the steel and your kiss was the spark that set everything ablaze. you let out a small gasp against his lips from the heat of it all. it felt so surreal, like watching lightning strike across the night sky and making it almost seem like day. the more your lips moved in sync, the more lightning there was, the more the sky brightened until it was an electrifying battle between night and day.

your hands moved up yeonjun’s chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you even closer. if your hands weren’t in the way, you were sure that your rapid heartbeats would be in perfect sync, too. if your kiss was the lightning, your hearts were the booming thunder, demanding to be heard—demanding to be felt.

after the two of you were fighting for oxygen in your deprived lungs, you pulled away just the slightest bit to gulp in heavy breaths. with the last strength inside you, you pushed at yeonjun’s chest and turned your head to the side. he didn’t move far, his grip around your waist refusing to be broken. you could feel his confusion and he pressed a light kiss to your burning cheek.

you turned your gaze to your ceiling, the ceiling that you’ve spent so many days staring at and daydreaming about a relationship that you didn’t have. even with yeonjun’s words, it all still felt too good to be true. it felt like if you were to look over at your bed, you would see yourself laying there, eyes on the ceiling, lost in the world you have created.

storm clouds drifted over you. what if he was only saying what you wanted to hear? what he needed to say to you so you’d lay yourself completely bare in front of him again. you didn’t think you could have the stars come crashing down around you again if you let yourself let yeonjun hang them in the sky for you.

you dragged your gaze from your ceiling back to yeonjun’s confused stare. a pained expression flickered across your face and you tried to hide it the best you could. you swallowed, and barely above a whisper you said, “if you just want some girl to fuck, find someone else.”

you tried to push him away more, but the more you pushed, the more he pulled you back into him. until your chest was up against his and you were flush against his body—and still, he pulled you closer; like the slightest leeway between you two would destroy him. like if he didn’t hold you close you would disappear. you felt the way his heartbeat picked up even more and saw the desperation appear in his eyes as his brows knitted together and he shook his head.

“it’s not like that and you know it,” yeonjun said, his voice matching the tone of yours. “i don’t want to fuck just any girl, i want to fuck you.”

ever vulgar, yeonjun’s words, but you knew deep down that he meant what he said. and you knew that he wasn’t just talking about the sex. his fingers wandered up your sides, cautiously exploring your body on their own accord. your eyes fluttered shut briefly as you inhaled deeply. “i want to feel you, be with you,” yeonjun continued.

yeonjun caught your lips in another kiss and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch. you felt his need through the kiss and you were sure he could feel yours, too. the two of you stumbled backwards a couple steps and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself stable, your lips never leaving his. his tongue slipped into your mouth and danced with yours.

the clouds parted and one by one stars started to twinkle in the night sky. no longer were your skies starless. it was all too much all at once and you tore yourself away from yeonjun, shaking your head. “i can’t…” you whispered, breath haggard, “i can’t keep doing this with you. not after everything.”

yeonjun cupped your face so you would look at him again. tears welled up in your eyes and you were just so overwhelmed. you didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if you could put your love somewhere where it could be shattered again. not after you were still picking up all of the pieces of your heart.

“so let me take the lead,” yeonjun said. “let me show you how much i want you. how much i need you.”

his lips were on yours again as he backed you up towards your bed. the back of your knees hit the edge and you fell down onto it, looking up at yeonjun with a melodramatic stare. he kicked off his boots and shrugged off the black leather jacket he wore, letting it fall to a heap on your floor. yeonjun then grabbed the bottom hem of your black, argyle sweater and pulled it off of you, tossing it to the side next to where his jacket laid.

“i really do like you, you know that right?” he asked you as he stripped off one of his various band tees that he wore. you nodded and yeonjun nodded along with you. his fingers hooked under your skirt, “yeah? good.”

in one swift motion he pulled off your skirt, tights, and your panties underneath, tossing them carelessly to the side by the rest of your clothes. you were only left in your bra as you crawled backwards up your bed.

yeonjun slowly unbuckled the belt in his jeans. “you really like me?” you asked shyly, pressing your legs together and leaning them to the side. the corners of yeonjun’s lips rose. his eyes sparkled in the low lamplight and it made the smudged eyeliner around his eyes appear darker. “of course i do, babygirl.”

his voice was full of amusement, like you just asked him if the sky was blue. heat flushed your face and pooled at the pit in your stomach. you suppose it was a silly question, considering all that he said to you tonight.

yeonjun pulled down his black jeans, exposing the large bulge in his boxers. “i like like you, sweetheart. i think i’ve made that pretty obvious tonight.”

you inhaled sharply, your eyes trailing over him and the articles of clothing that kept disappearing from his body. he pushed down his boxers and his large cock sprang free, precum already glittering from the slit. he looked back up at you and your heart stopped.

yeonjun got up onto the bed and moved toward you until you were caged beneath his body. he reached behind you and stripped off your bra, lips hovering over your exposed breasts. you felt his warm breath against your skin and shivered.

“i can spend the whole night listing off every little thing i like about you,” he said in a low voice that your ears just managed to catch through the ringing in your ears. yeonjun pressed chaste kisses from your breasts, to your chest, and all the way up to where he placed a kiss on your lips. “but i’d rather just show you instead, don’t you think?”

he dipped his head into the crook of your neck while his hands trailed down your body. you pulsated with need and desire for him, and your hands splayed across his back and pulled him closer. yeonjun chuckled lowly, the vibrations sending waves throughout your body. his hand moved between your legs and spread your wetness throughout your folds before his thumb rubbed circles into your clit.

you gasped, clutching tighter to him as your back arched. yeonjun pulled away from your neck, his thumb still drawing circles, as he looked at you through his dyed hair. you caught sight of the small skull necklace you gave him resting against his collarbones. even after everything, he never took it off. you swallowed thickly and nodded at his previous question.

yeonjun’s lips brushed against yours and he pushed you back onto the bed so that he hovered over you. the necklace you gave him dangled right beneath your lips and every so often you could feel the cold metal against them. yeonjun’s head tilted to the side, “do you want me to list everything, or do you want me to fuck you instead?”

your mouth opened but no words came out, only a small moan as your hips lifted towards his hand. yeonjun hummed, stopping his movements and you almost whined at the loss of friction. “what’s it gonna be?” he asked, pretty lips attaching to your neck with open-mouthed kisses before nipping at the soft skin to leave marks in his wake.

“p-please,” you begged, lifting your hips towards his hand again in a desperate attempt for friction. “please fuck me.”

yeonjun smiled against your skin and his thumb finally continued to circle the sensitive nub. you whimpered at the sudden contact, wrapping your legs around his waist. “good girl,” yeonjun praised. he reached for one of your pillows and had you lift your hips so he could place it under them.

he grabbed his cock, stroking it along your wet folds. “because tonight, you’re all mine. and i like keeping you all to myself. i don’t like sharing.”

yeonjun pushed into you with a low grunt and you swear you felt him deeper than you ever have before. you gasped loudly at how you could feel all of him inside you and how full it made you feel. it felt like the two of you finally fit together—no longer were you both forcing each other into a board you didn’t belong to. now, there was a whole new puzzle board, one to which you both belonged.

with a slow starting pace, yeonjun thrusted into you. “how’s that, baby? does that feel good?” the wet sound of his cock dragging in and out of you and the slight slap of skin hitting skin put you in a frenzy and turned you on even more. you moaned loudly as you nodded.

“you’re taking me so well,” yeonjun said, hands grabbing your hips and pushing them down into the pillow. he increased his pace, the lewd sounds growing louder with every thrust. “gonna fuck your pretty pussy full of my cum and make you feel so good you’ll be crying my name for the rest of the month.”

his hands on your hips prevented you from rolling them up towards him, but it didn’t stop the way you back arched off your sheets. loud moans fell from your parted lips and yeonjun leaned down you kiss you, cock still thrusting into you. you moaned against his mouth from the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “don’t stop,” you breathed, arms wrapping around his neck.

“trust me, i don’t intend to,” yeonjun said huskily. a moan parted from him and you could feel the rope in your stomach tighten. “your pretty little pussy is gonna stay wrapped around my cock all night.”

you hands pulled at the tips of his hair as you clenched down hard against him. yeonjun pulled away from your lips, a whimper leaving his mouth as he looked down between your bodies. “fuck,” he muttered in a low whine and his hands moved up your body and to your breasts. he grabbed at them as you rocked your hips upwards.

you were a whimpering mess underneath him, and if he wasn’t making you feel so good right now you’d be a bit embarrassed by how desperate you felt clawing at his skin and pulling at his hair. your body moved on it’s own as you tried to gain the most pleasure that you possibly could. your head dug into your pillow and your back arched so high that there was no need for the pillow underneath your hips because you were practically floating.

“please…” you trailed, eyes rolling backwards briefly as heavy breaths pushed past your lips. you were so, so close. you felt so good that you could see stars again.

“shh, shh, shh,” yeonjun shushed you, his face in your neck leaving soft kisses. “i got you, baby. just let go.”

with one perfectly timed roll of your hips your body shook as the rope inside you snapped. you cried out as your release started to pour out of you and leave a white ring around yeonjun’s cock. he groaned at the sight, still thrusting into you, and your body felt limp and heavy. you started to squirm and yeonjun moved your legs from his waist and pinned them to your chest.

“shit, look at how pretty,” he almost laughed as he watched his cock disappear inside of you and reappear covered in cum. “and it’s all for me. my good girl, you made such a mess.”

your skin slapping against his, sticky with cum, sent you over the edge. you were torn between wanting more of him and wanting to push him away from all the overstimulation. it was all too much and you dug your fingers into your blanket. “jjunie,” you cried out in a gasp, your tongue heavy in your mouth, “c-can’t…”

yeonjun fucked deeper into you, amazed at your glistening pussy and your arousal for him. he hit just the right place that had you crying out more for him. he firmly held onto the back of your knees that were pressed to your chest as he trailed his gaze up your body. “just a little more, sweetheart. you can handle it.”

he threw his head back, his eyes fluttering closed, as he completely lost himself in you. you were taking him so good he never wanted to leave. all he wanted was to keep you like this, his hard cock buried deep inside of you as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from your shaking body. he wanted to fill you up with so much of his cum that it flowed like a river out of you when he did finally pull himself out. you were everything he wanted—everything he needed, and more. and he never wanted to let you go ever again.

yeonjun buried himself completely inside you, barely pulling out before trying to bury himself deeper into you. he moaned loudly as he looked down at your spent body, you were fucked out of you pretty little mind and he was close to it. white ropes of cum shot inside you until it had no choice but to squeeze out from around yeonjun’s thick cock. yeonjun blissfully exhaled, his firm grip on you loosening.

leaning towards you, he fixed your crooked and slightly fogged up glasses that fell down your nose bridge. yeonjun’s chest rose and fell heavily as he smiled at you, kissing you deeply. “good, babygirl. you did very good for me,” he murmured before pressing his lips to the sensitive marks he left on your skin. you felt his smile when you shivered slightly. “do you feel good?”

you felt as he shallowly thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot again. your voice caught in your throat as you clung to him and nodded. you felt your legs shake even more. yeonjun just chuckled, his nose dragging along your jaw before he pulled away. “good. let me make you feel even better.”

yeonjun slowly pulled out of you, watching the way his cum spilled out of your spent cunt and down the curve of your ass. he took his thumb and pushed it back into you, eyes twinkling. you whined from his actions and squirmed to the side but yeonjun held you in place.

suddenly, he buried two of his fingers into you. you gasped, “can’t t-take anymore!” your eyes screwed shut. yeonjun pumped his fingers inside you at a rapid pace and held your body in place with his other hand. “do you want me to stop?” he asked as his fingers curled inside you.

you cried out, voice almost a hoarse scream as you quickly shook your head. “n-no!” yeonjun hummed in satisfied response.

loud, squelching sounds bounced off the walls of your room from your wet pussy. you felt like you were gonna black out the closer yeonjun’s fingers brought you to another orgasm. you shook so hard and moaned so loud that it felt like your body had a mind of its own. suddenly, your brows drew together and you tried to quickly push yeonjun away from you.

it was too late. liquid sprayed from you and all over yeonjun. your body went limp as you went from shaking all over to trembling. yeonjun froze, his fingers still inside of you. you didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed at the fact that you just squirted all over him.

yeonjun’s eyes were wide as they trailed over your body. then his face brightened into a prideful and smug expression, the corners of his mouth raising. “fuck, baby, that was so hot.” he was practically beaming as he pulled his fingers from you, hand completely wet. you whimpered at the loss, eyes closing.

he wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you up. “come on, babygirl. let’s get you cleaned up before i make you do that again.”

after getting you and your sheets all cleaned up, the two of you laid in your bed—half naked—as your lips moved in sync in a slow kiss. you were basically pinned to yeonjun and the more the two of you kissed, the closer he pressed you against him. you both didn’t even realize that it had been hours and it was already deep into the night until it clicked in your brain that you had a busy schedule tomorrow.

you didn’t want to say anything, though, because that meant that yeonjun would leave soon. you didn’t want him to go. you were afraid that if he did the illusion would be shattered—that none of what happened tonight was actually real and you made it all up in your despairing sadness.

it seemed that yeonjun remembered, unfortunately. he pulled away from your lips, moving the two of you so that you had some space and weren’t pinned to him anymore. “i gotta go, baby.” his face showed that he wanted to do anything but that.

he sat up and moved to stand, but before he could you grabbed his wrist. with a look full of sorrow and desperation, you said, “stay… don’t go.”

yeonjun paused and looked back at you—really looked at you. he saw all the cracks inside you that he caused, every single last one. he saw the glassy tears start to form in your eyes.

he was determined to mend them all—determined to make you whole again.

yeonjun turned back towards you, nodding. he leaned down to take off your glasses and sat them on your nightstand. he then reached over to your lamp and shut it off, basking the two of you into darkness. then, he climbed back into the bed with you and pulled you close to his chest.

in the morning, you woke up before he did. sunlight filtered through your blinds and made his orange hair look even more bright and saturated. gently, you reached up and took on of the blonde streaks between your fingers before dropping it and moving closer to him.

you were shocked that yeonjun was still here in the bed next to you, that this wasn’t all a dream like you thought it was. he was actually here with you. you heart fluttered in your chest and all you could do was stare adoringly at him.

you didn’t realize that you must’ve been staring for a while because suddenly yeonjun’s sleepy voice filled your ears. “i can feel you staring,” he said groggily.

embarrassment filled you, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. yeonjun cracked an eye open before his face scrunched together from the bright light of the sun. “god, why is it so fucking bright in here?” he complained.

you giggled at his reaction and his arms snaked around you and pulled you to him. yeonjun buried his face into your neck to shield himself from the sunshine. “you should probably get use to the daylight,” you smiled, “‘cause i think we’re late for our morning classes.” yeonjun just groaned.

he peeked his head out to look at you. “hey…” he trailed off, eyes darting away from you hesitantly. you furrowed your brows. “yeah?” you replied.

yeonjun inhaled sharply and it looked like he was trying to find the right words to say. “i should’ve said it earlier—should’ve said it that night. but… i just didn’t know what it all meant.” you looked at him confused, urging him to go on. yeonjun sighed and turned away from you to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes. he then turned back to you, brows drawn together. “i… i don’t just like you,” he started it, “i’m in love with you.”

your eyes widened and your heart soared out of your chest. you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face. “really?” you asked, voice small. “you’re not just saying that?”

yeonjun fully turned back to you and cupped your cheek with his hand. he nodded, “i mean it. i’m not just saying it just to say it.”

you searched his eyes for a moment, looking for any hint of a lie but all you saw was sincerity. you then moved forward and pressed your lips to his. “well, you already know how i feel…” you trailed, pulling away from his lips ever so slightly.

yeonjun laughed, “i do.” his lips met your again and it was everything you ever needed. never again did you want another starless night, not when yeonjun makes your skies so full of stars.

you were leaving your class and crossing the campus when a hand intertwined with yours. you looked over and yeonjun smiled down at you, walking alongside you. you were still a little shocked at the public display despite the fact that it’s been a couple of days.

yeonjun pressed a kiss to your cheek. “walk with me?” he asked. “i want you to meet my friends.”

you both slowed to a stop and you looked at him with wide eyes, causing him to laugh. “they’re cool, i promise!” you looked around nervously. what if after all of this they didn’t like you? that yeonjun was right to initially keep your—then—secret relationship from them? you sighed, nodding a little, “o-okay…”

he pulled you in a different direction and in the distance you saw a small group of people hanging around. your heart thumped more and more the closer you got to them. when you stood in front of them, hand in hand with yeonjun, you gave them a nervous smile. “guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n,” yeonjun introduced you.

you smiled and waved awkwardly. all of their faces lit up, which you weren’t expecting. yeonjun’s friend with long brown hair half covering his eyes gave you a triumphant smile and held out a stripped arm warmer covered hand to one of the other boys. “i called it! you owe me forty bucks!” the other boy grumbled as he dug into his bag.

one of the girls stepped up to you and yeonjun, mostly smiling at you. she wore a black, frilly dress and had on stark black and white makeup. “i knew this months ago!” she said and her eyes darted towards yeonjun. you both gave her a confused look. “you weren’t exactly subtle with all the sneaking around you were doing,” she said to yeonjun. “you literally couldn’t take your eyes off her no matter how hard you tried. like a puppy waiting for it’s owner to come back home.”

you and yeonjun glanced at each other with wide eyes.

yeonjun awkwardly laughed at being exposed and pulled you into his side. he looked down at you and you could see the slight embarrassment in his eyes as you raised an eyebrow at him. “ignore her,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “i don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“like a puppy waiting for it’s owner,” you repeated slowly, amused. “you didn’t tell me you missed me that much!”

“oh, i like her!” the girl said. you smiled at her and she linked your arm with hers and pulled you away from yeonjun, introducing you to more of the group. you looked over your shoulder at yeonjun, who was getting teased by his friends, just as he looked up at you. he gave you a fond smile.

he was so not living all of this down.

∿ [ continue on to . . . part one , masterlist , taglist ] ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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aroacegundamalex · 7 months ago

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I mostly think this poll is hilarious (and some people are taking it way, way too seriously) but it’s starting to get really weird how often people on the opposite side are dismissing Gundam — a giant of science fiction that remade a genre in its image — and quite literally lying about Suletta and Miorine. I’ve seen people claim they were canonically married to men, people claim the show’s ending was rewritten by interns, claim they never hugged, and other claims regarding them not being canon.

While Bandai and Kadokawa did censor one interview, and Bandai released an “open to interpretation” statement, these no longer hold true. Official material has henceforth referred to them as married. One instance of censorship and a statement they’ve clearly walked back on does not erase the fact that the show itself heavily emphasizes their wedding rings, refers to Miorine as Eri’s sister-in-law, and makes it abundantly clear that they are married.

“I knew I was going to make an epilogue, but it was a while before I decided upon the exact number of years that should pass in-between. The ending itself follows “The Tempest,” and depicts Suletta and Miorine getting married and becoming partners.”

- Hiroshi Kobayashi

They are completely and unambiguously canon, and arguably were never decanonized to begin with given the literal text of the show.

An addendum to this: I’ve also seen a strange dismissal of the history that G-Witch pulls from.

The original Gundam inspired Revolutionary Girl Utena, with Lalah Sune in particular (the creator of an iconic Gundam archetype) serving as the inspiration for Anthy Himemiya. Gundam has had a queer fanbase for decades, and has had gay characters (with Yoshiyuki Tomino himself confirming this) since the 1990s.

G-Witch draws from Gundam’s extensive, genre-shaking history, classics like Utena and Rose of Versailles, and Shakespeare’s The Tempest. It brings Gundam and Utena’s connection full circle, and is in conversation with every Gundam series that came before it.

It’s unfair to dismiss it as just some random show, or — as I’ve seen some do — credit its open queerness to the influence of completely unrelated American media, as if Japan is utterly devoid of gay people.

#alex.txt #they refer to each other as bride and groom from episode one onwards.#gundam the witch from mercury #g witch #suletta mercury #sulemio #miorine rembran #racism and misogyny absolutely factor into this #as well as a disturbing trend of western centrism #are most of the people opposing sulemio like this?#of course not. most are just voting for the pairing they enjoy.#but for the minority i’ve seen being truly vile?#and being hideously dismissive?#please examine why it’s the interracial lesbian couple #from a japanese production #that you’re treating as lesser #compared to two white american men

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chosok-amo · 3 months ago

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HELP ME, MAN! : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you, their little girlfriend, scared the shit out of your boyfriends. they don't know why, how, them, the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in the modern world are scared of their girlfriend.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fem! reader. anger issues mentioned, you scared the shit out of them. fluff.

wc. | ( 𝜗𝜚 ) masterlist

( 𝜗𝜚 ) art belongs to the artist.

being the strongest sorcerers in the modern world, gojo satoru and geto suguru didn’t know fear. they had faced countless curses, fought against the worst of the worst, and never once backed down. no matter how dangerous, no matter how terrifying the curse, they’d come out on top, especially when they worked together. their bond and strength were unmatched. they could take on anything the world threw at them without flinching.

but there was one thing that shook them to their core. something even worse than a thousand cursed spirits combined.

you.

their fiery, sarcastic little girlfriend, who had more rage bottled up in her than any curse they’d ever faced. when you were angry, it wasn’t just explosive—it was terrifying. your sharp tongue, your piercing glares, and the way you could tear them apart with a single, biting comment. they’d rather face off against the worst special-grade curse than deal with your wrath.

and right now, they were both standing in front of you, like guilty children caught red-handed. you were pacing back and forth, arms crossed, the air thick with tension. they could handle anything… anything but this.

“so,” you started, your voice cold and sarcastic, “which one of you wants to explain this mess?” your eyes flicked between them, daring one of them to speak up.

gojo, never one to shy away from a challenge, opened his mouth, though his usual cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. “babe, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” he tried to play it off, but even he knew he was walking on thin ice.

you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him, your eyes narrowing dangerously. “wasn’t that bad? really, satoru? because to me, it looks like you completely ignored the one thing i asked for.”

geto stood to the side, looking like he was praying for some sort of divine intervention. he knew better than to jump in too soon, but he also knew you were right. they’d messed up. and badly.

“idiot, stop talking,” geto said quietly, placing a hand on his friend’s arm, though his own nerves were clearly showing. then, he turned to you, his tone soft and apologetic. “we’re sorry. we really didn’t mean to mess this up, it just—”

“oh, so you’re both sorry? well, that fixes everything,” you cut him off, your sarcasm biting. “i guess next time i’ll just expect the bare minimum from the two of you.”

gojo winced, trying to shrink into the background, and even geto, usually calm and composed, was struggling to keep his cool under your stare. the two of them could take on anything, but this? this was something entirely different.

you could feel their unease, but it didn’t soften your mood just yet. “i ask for one thing,” you continued, pacing again, “and what do you do? exactly the opposite.” your voice rose with each word, your frustration clear. gojo shot a glance at geto, mouthing, “what do we do?”

geto shrugged helplessly, though he knew there was only one way out of this—admitting they were wrong. completely and utterly wrong. “look, we really messed up, okay? we’ll make it right, i swear. just… don’t be mad at us, alright?” he sounded genuine, his usual stoic tone now laced with concern.

you stopped pacing, your arms still crossed, and looked at both of them. “you better. because if you think i’m mad now, wait until i’m really pissed.” they both nodded, practically in unison. they knew better than to push their luck. after all, you were the one thing that could truly strike fear into their hearts. curses? no problem. a pissed-off girlfriend with anger issues? that was another story entirely.

“we’ll fix it,” gojo promised, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual, clearly trying to get back in your good graces. “yeah, we’ll do whatever it takes,” geto added, backing him up, eyes serious.

you watched them for a long moment, letting the tension hang in the air before sighing. “good. because the last thing i want is to be disappointed again.” they both exhaled in relief, knowing they were getting a second chance. you may have been their biggest weakness, but you were also their greatest strength—keeping them in check when nothing else could.

I DIDN'T SLAM THE DOOR, I SWEAR!

there was also a moment—just like any other day—when you and gojo found yourselves in a small argument. nothing major, just one of those little things that built up over time. this time, it was about him always leaving his clothes on the floor. no matter how many times you asked, it seemed like he just couldn’t get the hang of putting them in the hamper.

you stood in the bedroom, arms crossed, glaring at the pile of clothes that had been tossed haphazardly on the floor next to the bed. “again, satoru?” your voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “is it really that hard to put your clothes in the basket? it’s right there.”

gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, looked up at you, his signature grin plastered on his face, but you could see the nervousness behind it. “come on, doll. it’s not that big of a deal, right? they’re just clothes.”

“just clothes? satoru, you’ve been leaving them everywhere—everywhere—for weeks. i’m not your maid!” you snapped, waving your hand toward the scattered mess. “you’re lucky i haven’t thrown them all out by now.”

gojo chuckled, clearly amused by your annoyance. “oh, come on, you wouldn’t throw them out. you love me too much for that.” he leaned back on the bed, the smirk growing wider. “besides, you could always pick them up yourself if it’s that important,“ he added, the taunt subtle but noticeable.

your eyes narrowed, the irritation bubbling up even more. he knew exactly what he was doing—pushing your buttons, trying to get a rise out of you. and it was working. you clenched your fists, taking a deep breath to keep from snapping right away, but the frustration was hard to contain.

“satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm as you looked at him. “i am not your maid. i’m not here to clean up after you like some kind of personal assistant.”

he opened his mouth, about to say something in response, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your temper flaring. “i already deal with enough without having to pick up your damn clothes every single day. you know i hate it when the house is messy, and you still leave your stuff everywhere. why? because you think i’ll just clean it up for you?”

his smirk wavered, just for a second, as he saw how serious you were. he might have been teasing, but he knew when you were on the verge of losing your patience. and right now? you were teetering on the edge.

gojo sat there, the smirk replaced by a hint of uneasiness. he hadn’t expected you to get this mad, but then again, he should have known. you weren’t one to back down easily, especially when it came to this issue.

he swallowed hard, trying to salvage the situation. “okay, okay, i get it. i know you’re not my maid. but come on, it’s just a few clothes. it really doesn’t take that much effort to pick them up, does it?”

you could feel your irritation spike even higher at his words, and your eyes narrowed. the way he was downplaying it, acting like it was no big deal, just pushed you closer to your breaking point. if it didn’t take much effort, then why couldn’t he do it?

“if it’s so easy, satoru,” you snapped, voice sharp with anger, “then why can’t you do it?”

without giving him a chance to respond, you bent down, grabbing one of the shirts from the pile of discarded clothes and hurled it at him. the fabric hit his chest, and he blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that reaction.

“you think it’s not a big deal, right? it’s just a few clothes, no effort at all,” you continued, grabbing another piece of clothing and throwing it at him. “then why do you keep leaving them everywhere? because i’ll pick them up for you? i told you, satoru, i’m not your maid.”

gojo sat there, eyes wide, the smirk completely eradicated as you hurled clothes at him. he flinched each time one hit him, and he didn’t say a word, recognizing he’d messed up.

when you grabbed another shirt, he finally spoke, his voice softer. “babe, wait—”

you didn’t stop, your eyes blazing, and he saw the real anger blazing in them. “you think it’s funny to disrespect me like this? to treat me like some kind of servant?”

gojo looked at you, his usual confident facade cracking under your intense glare. he knew he messed up, but he still tried to keep some of his usual attitude, though it faltered when he spoke. “it’s not that big of a deal, doll, come on. i’m just a bit messy, isn’t that part of the charm?”

he knew the moment those words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. your expression darkened even more, and another shirt hit him.

gojo’s confidence shattered the second the words left his mouth. he saw the way your expression darkened, eyes narrowing even further as the tension in the room spiked. before he could even backtrack, another shirt flew at him, hitting him square in the face. he froze for a second, blinking as the fabric slid off his head.

“wrong move, dickhead,” he thought, his heart speeding up just a bit as he noticed the way you were glaring at him, practically daring him to say something else.

without another word, gojo shot up from the bed, all traces of his usual cockiness gone. “okay, okay! i’ll clean it up!” he stammered, frantically bending down to gather the clothes you had thrown at him. he moved faster than he ever did in a fight, scrambling to pick up the scattered mess around the room.

you stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a piercing stare as he scurried around the floor, picking up every last piece of clothing with a nervous energy. the man who faced down curses without blinking an eye was now clearly scared of you.

gojo moved quickly, rushing to pick up all the clothes, his heart pounding the whole time. he had faced down some of the worst curses in the world, fought against overwhelming odds, but this? this was something else entirely.

he could feel your gaze on him, sharp and unwavering, and he knew better than to make any snide comments or try to joke his way out of this. he was in the doghouse, and he knew it. as he finally gathered the last of the clothes into a messy pile, he stood there, glancing up at you, his usual confident demeanor completely vanished before he quickly left the room.

gojo, in his frantic rush to escape the room, accidentally slammed the door behind him with more force than he intended. the loud bang echoed through the hallway, and he froze for a split second, his eyes wide with panic as the realization hit him. “shit.” without wasting another moment, he bolted down the hall, clutching his clothes like his life depended on it.

he raced into the living room, where geto was sitting on the couch, looking far too tense for someone who hadn’t been directly involved. geto had heard everything. every word of the argument had reached him, and he hadn’t dared to intervene—not with you in that mood. he knew better. much better.

when gojo came running in, face pale and eyes wide, geto’s first instinct was to flinch, his muscles tensing even more. gojo practically threw himself at geto, clinging to him like a lifeline, the pile of clothes still in his arms. “suguru, help me! she’s gonna kill me, man. i didn’t mean to slam the door, i swear!”

geto, whose nerves were already frayed from listening to the argument, quickly pushed gojo away, eyes wide with alarm. “fuck off, satoru!” he hissed, scrambling to put some distance between them. “don’t want to be anywhere near you when she starts yelling again. i don’t need to get dragged into this.”

gojo blinked at him, clearly desperate for any sort of support. “but—but you’re supposed to have my back!”

“not when it comes to her,” geto shot back, keeping his voice low in case you were nearby. “do you know how terrifying she is when she’s pissed? no way, man. you’re on your own for this one.“

gojo groaned, his shoulders sagging as he slumped onto the couch beside geto, still clutching the clothes. “come on, suguru. you can’t just leave me to deal with this by myself. we’re in this together, remember?“

before geto could even muster a response, both of them froze at the sound of your heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. it was slow but deliberate, each step echoing louder than the last. gojo’s eyes widened in panic, and he shot a terrified glance at geto, who was looking equally tense. neither of them dared to move, as if staying perfectly still might make them invisible.

“satoru,” geto whispered, voice barely audible as his eyes darted toward the doorway, “you better hide or something, man. i don’t want to be involved when she gets here.”

“go where?!” gojo hissed back, frantically looking around the living room for some sort of escape route. but there was nowhere to go, no time to run. he was trapped. the footsteps grew louder, and gojo’s heart pounded in his chest. “oh no, oh no, she’s coming…” he muttered under his breath, gripping his clothes tighter.

“this is your fault,” geto whispered harshly, scooting a few inches away from gojo. “you’re the one who pissed her off.“

“satoru…!” your voice called from down the hallway, sharp and unamused. both men stiffened at the sound, knowing that whatever came next wasn’t going to be good. gojo’s face drained of color as he leaned closer to geto, whispering desperately, “don’t leave me, man! i’ll do anything—just don’t let her kill me!”

geto looked at him, weighing his options, but before he could say anything, there you stood, arms crossed, your glare fixed on gojo like a laser. your presence alone filled the room with an intense pressure that made even the strongest sorcerers feel small. “satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm, “did you just slammed the door?”

gojo was frozen, his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. he looked back and forth between you and geto, the panic clear on his face. “uh, i...i didn’t mean to,” he squeaked, the clothes clutched tightly in his hands.

geto, watching the scene, leaned back into the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible, avoiding eye contact with you. he knew better than to draw your attention.

you didn’t say anything at first, just raised an eyebrow, and the silence was enough to make both gojo and geto sweat. finally, you spoke again, your voice laced with irritation. “do you want to try that again?”

gojo immediately shook his head, eyes wide with fear. “n-no! absolutely not, babe!” he blurted out, his voice shaky. “i swear, i wouldn’t do that again! it was totally an accident! i didn’t mean to slam the door, i promise!”

he stood there, practically trembling under your glare, clutching his clothes like they were his shield. “i’ll be so careful next time—no more slamming doors. i’ll tiptoe if i have to!” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush as he desperately tried to fix the situation.

geto, who was watching from the couch, subtly leaned back, clearly relieved that gojo was taking the brunt of your anger and praying he wouldn’t get dragged into it.

gojo looked at you with pleading eyes, hoping his quick apology would be enough to cool your anger. “i’ll be good, i swear,” he added, his voice softening, hoping to appeal to your softer side. but your expression remained firm, leaving him to sweat just a little longer, wondering if he'd escaped this round of your wrath—or if he was still in trouble. you slowly nod before walking away back to your shared bedroom without taking your eyes off of him.

gojo let out a shaky breath as you walked away, the silence in the room almost deafening. he stood there, frozen in place, clutching his clothes tightly and wondering if he was really off the hook or if you were just planning something even worse.

geto, who had been watching the scene unfold, let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing his tense muscles. “jesus, man,” he whispered, turning to look at gojo. “i don’t know how you do it. i’d be shitting my pants right now if i was in your shoes.”

WHITE TURN PINK

you stormed into the living room, laundry basket in hand, grumbling under your breath. your favorite white button-up shirt was now an embarrassing shade of pale pink, along with almost all the white clothes from the load. it didn’t take long to piece together what happened: one of them had carelessly thrown pink clothes in with the whites.

as you stood in front of gojo and geto, blocking their view of the video game they were so engrossed in, they immediately began to protest. “hey, we were—” gojo started, but the moment they looked up and saw the expression on your face, their words died in their throats.

your eyes were narrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. you were pissed, and they could feel the tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“who’s turn was it to do the laundry?” you asked, your voice low but laced with enough irritation to make them both sit up a little straighter. without missing a beat, gojo’s hand shot up, pointing directly at geto. “it was him!” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

geto’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward gojo in disbelief. “seriously?” he mouthed, glaring at him for the betrayal. but when he turned back to face you, his defiance melted away, replaced with sheer panic as he saw you holding up the now pink shirt.

geto could feel shivers running down his spine, his heart racing at the sight of your anger and the tainted shirt clutched in your hands. he wanted to protest, to deny the accusation that gojo had so shamelessly thrown at him, but one glance at your face told him it was pointless.

he swallowed hard, glancing at gojo who had the gall to give him a shrug and a smirk, as if it wasn’t his fault this had happened. but geto didn’t have time to deal with that right now. right now, he had to survive this. “care to explain this?” you asked, holding up the evidence.

geto could feel the color draining from his face, his mind racing as he desperately tried to come up with a convincing excuse. he shot a glare at gojo, silently vowing to get him back for this later, but right now, he had to handle the wrath of you.

“i...uh...” he stuttered, his voice shaky as he struggled to find the right words.

but before he could say anything more, gojo piped up beside him, clearly enjoying his friend’s predicament. “come on, tell her,"” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

gojo’s smirk didn’t last long. the second you shifted your glare toward him, your eyes narrowing dangerously, his confidence evaporated. you didn’t have to say a word—the intensity of your stare was enough to make him freeze in place. his lips clamped shut, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender, silently mouthing a “sorry” as he shrank back into the couch.

the teasing look was gone in an instant, replaced with one of sheer regret. gojo knew better than to push you any further when you were this angry. his eyes darted between you and geto, desperately hoping the attention would stay on his best friend and not shift back to him.

the atmosphere in the room was heavy, the tension palpable as both gojo and geto sat there, silent and clearly nervous about your next move.

gojo avoided your gaze, opting to find the most interesting spot on the floor to focus on, all his earlier cockiness gone. he couldn’t believe he’d so effortlessly thrown geto under the bus, and now they were both neck-deep in your wrath. geto, on the other hand, still looked like a deer in headlights, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a satisfactory explanation for the pink shirt.

your gaze slowly shifted back to geto, who visibly tensed under the weight of your stare. you crossed your arms, eyes still sharp as you raised an eyebrow. “well?” you prompted, your voice low but demanding. “explain.”

geto’s heart thudded in his chest, his tongue feeling heavy and clumsy as he tried to form words under your intense scrutiny. he swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to come up with any sort of explanation that might appease you.

“i...i...” he started, his voice cracking slightly. “i just...i didn’t...uh...”

he trailed off, his eyes darting to where gojo sat, silently mouthing, “help me, man!” but gojo only shrugged, unwilling to come to his aid and risk drawing your anger back towards himself.

geto’s throat went dry. his usual calm and collected demeanor was nowhere to be found as he fumbled for words. he could feel the color draining from his face, his mind scrambling for any excuse that wouldn’t make things worse. but there was no escaping this one.

“i—uh…” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “i didn’t realize the pink clothes were mixed in with the whites. it was an honest mistake, i swear.” he glanced over at gojo for a split second, hoping for some kind of lifeline, but gojo was firmly staring at the floor, wisely avoiding your gaze after nearly getting himself in deeper trouble.

“i didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” geto continued, his voice softening as he gave you a tentative, apologetic look. “i’ll… i’ll fix it. i promise.” you didn’t say anything at first, just continued to glare at him, making him squirm under the silence. geto knew he had messed up, and the longer you stared at him, the more he regretted it.

the silence was deafening, and geto fidgeted nervously, the weight of your glare like a vise around his throat. gojo watched from the corner of his eye, still trying to act casual even as the tension in the room grew.

geto swallowed hard, his mind racing for anything that might soften your anger. “listen, i know i messed up,” he began, his voice dropping to a quiet, contrite tone. “but i swear, i’d never do it on purpose. it was an error, a genuine mistake. it won't happen again.”

“damn right it won’t,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “because you two are redoing the laundry now.” gojo, still sitting stiffly beside geto, looked like he wanted to say something smart but quickly thought better of it. geto, on the other hand, sighed in defeat, clearly knowing there was no getting out of this.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, both knowing that they had no choice but to follow your command. gojo let out a weary sigh, already dreading the chore ahead, while geto simply nodded in submission.

“yes, ma’am,” geto murmured, rising from the couch. gojo followed suit, reluctantly getting to his feet as well. the two men both looked like puppies that had just been chastised as they trailed after you as you led the way to the laundry room.

with matching groans of reluctance, the two strongest sorcerers in the world—men who had faced countless curses without fear—got up from the couch, heads hanging low, and shuffled toward the laundry room like a pair of scolded children.

as they passed, you shook your head, muttering under your breath, “honestly, how hard is it to separate the colors?” geto shot gojo a sideways glance. “this is your fault,” he hissed, still holding a grudge from being thrown under the bus. gojo shrugged, looking unapologetic. “hey, better you than me, man.”

“you owe me,” geto muttered darkly, glaring at him as they got to work on fixing their laundry disaster, while you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed, making sure they did it right this time.

they both muttered and grumbled under their breath as they sorted through the laundry, each taking their turn to throw in a sarcastic comment.

“you know, for being the strongest, we sure do spend a lot of time sorting socks,” geto grumbled, holding up a black one that had somehow gotten mixed in with the white.

gojo rolled his eyes, grabbing the sock from his friend and dropping it into the correct pile. “well, if you had been more careful—”

“oh shut up, satoru.”

you leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as you watched gojo and geto sort through the laundry, their faces set in identical frowns. they muttered to each other under their breath, casting glances in your direction every now and then, clearly miffed about being forced into this chore.

as the two men carefully separated the clothes, making sure to keep the colors apart this time, you couldn’t help but smirk. the sight of them working diligently, like a pair of scolded children, was a sight to see. you can hear them blaming each other. “stop fighting,” you tell them.

they both stop their bickering and look up at you. gojo starts to open his mouth, but you shoot him a warning glare, and he quickly closes it. “we’re not fighting,” geto mutters, continuing to sort through the laundry, careful to avoid any more pink shirts.

gojo rolls his eyes, mumbling something under his breath, but you catch it anyway. “what was that?” you ask sharply, pinning him with a look.

gojo swallows hard, realizing he’s been caught. “nothing,” he mutters sheepishly.

WE HAVE TO STAND FOR OURSELVES

in the kitchen, geto and gojo stood side by side, leaning against the counter, their expressions tense but trying to appear more confident than they actually were. they glanced nervously toward the hallway, making sure you weren’t nearby as they quietly discussed their situation.

“we’re the strongest sorcerers in the world,” gojo muttered, half-convincing himself as much as he was trying to convince geto. “we shouldn’t be scared of her. she’s… she’s just one girl. smaller than us. it’s ridiculous.”

geto nodded, though there was a hint of hesitation in his agreement. “right. we face curses and danger all the time. we can’t let her… you know, terrorize us in our own house. we’re the men in the relationship.”

they had a point. they had faced deadly curses and powerful sorcerers without flinching. but here they were, nervously tip-toeing around their girlfriend like frightened schoolboys.

“absolutely,” gojo continued, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “we can’t let her intimidate us. we’re stronger than her. we’re the strongest.” geto nodded again, though he seemed a bit less sure this time. “we need to show her that we won’t be pushed around... right?”

they both tried to sound resolute, but there was a visible nervousness in their body language—shoulders tense, eyes darting toward the door every few seconds, like they were expecting you to burst in at any moment.

“yeah,” gojo added, his voice lowering as if he didn’t even believe what he was saying. “we can’t let her push us around. i mean, come on. we’re gojo satoru and geto suguru. we shouldn’t be scared of her. right?”

but even as the words left his mouth, the doubt was clear. geto let out a small sigh, nodding but with much less confidence than before. “yeah, totally. we shouldn’t be scared… at all.”

there was a brief pause as both of them exchanged uneasy glances, neither wanting to admit just how much they were actually afraid of upsetting you. their bravado was shaky at best.

the silence stretched on. clearly, both men were starting to panic. they were not used to feeling weak, and to have you—someone they cared about and respected—wielding so much power over them was uncomfortable to say the least.

“so we...we should confront her, right? show her we're not afraid?” gojo asked, more for reassurance than anything else. geto nodded half-heartedly, his own confidence flagging as the thought of facing you head-on filled him with unease.

just as their uncertainty reached its peak, the echo of your footsteps rang through the hallway. they both went still, their eyes wide as they heard you approaching and turned to look at each other in panic. the color drained from their faces, and all the bravado they had been trying to muster moments ago completely evaporated.

you appeared in the hallway, looking nothing like the terrifying figure they had been hyping themselves up to face. instead, you were dressed in your cozy cat printed pajamas, your hair slightly messy, and you looked more like someone ready for a peaceful evening than the source of their terror. you seemed so casual and calm, it was almost comical.

but despite how cute and harmless you looked, the effect on the two strongest sorcerers was instant. when you reached them and stood in front of them, a casual look on your face as you were about to ask what they were up to, they immediately went into panic mode. without a second thought, both men dropped to their knees, their faces showing sheer dread.

“it was all suguru’s idea!” gojo blurted out immediately, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation, his eyes wide with fear. he didn’t even give geto a chance to protest before continuing. “he said we should stand up to you, that we’re the strongest sorcerers and shouldn’t be scared. i—I told him it was a bad idea!“

geto glared at gojo, but he was too terrified to defend himself properly. “i—what?! you were the one who said we shouldn’t let her push us around!” he stammered, trying to shift the blame back.

you looked at them, clearly confused by their sudden and dramatic display of fear. your eyebrows knitted together as you took in the sight of gojo and geto kneeling in front of you, their faces pale and their eyes wide with distress. it was such a stark contrast to the usual confident and unflappable demeanor they showed in almost every other situation.

“what is going on with you two?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. “why are you both on the floor?” you glanced between them, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before you. the sight of them so unnerved and trying to pass the blame off on each other was bewildering. your calm demeanor and casual attire made the whole situation seem even more surreal.

they both looked up at you, their faces a mixture of fear and shame. gojo opened his mouth to speak, but geto cut him off immediately, wanting to defend himself.

“please, we're sorry,” geto blurted out, his voice quavering slightly. “we were just... uh...”

gojo chimed in, his voice still panicked. “we were just... messing around. yeah, messing around. just having a bit of fun.” they look at you, silently begging for forgiveness and trying hard to hide their previous arrogance.

you looked at them, your expression turning from confusion to genuine puzzlement as you tried to make sense of their frantic apologies and conflicting explanations. “messing around? having fun?” you repeated, clearly unsure of what they were talking about.

“what are you guys even saying?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. you took a step closer, still trying to understand what could have prompted such an over-the-top reaction. “seriously baby, what’s going on? did i miss something?” your hands softly find their cheek, gently rubbing your thumbs across their skin.

the feeling of your hands on their cheeks was both soothing and embarrassing. they leaned into your touch, their bodies still tense with anxiety.

“we... we were just...” gojo began, his voice cracking slightly. geto cut him off again, clearly not wanting his friend to say anything else that could dig them deeper into trouble.

“it's nothing, really,” he mutters, looking up at you with a mix of guilt and shame. “just a silly argument. we're sorry if we worried you.” their panicked expressions soften slightly as they look up at you, still on their knees. they look so pathetic, and so uncharacteristically vulnerable, that it's almost endearing.

you looked down at them, your expression softening as you saw their vulnerable and somewhat endearing state. a small, amused smile played at the corners of your lips as you reached out to gently stroke their cheeks.

“you two weren't in bed,” you said, your tone light and soothing, “i was looking for you two. i just wanted to see if my boyfriends wanted to cuddle or hang out. i didn’t realize you were having such a… dramatic moment.”

the tension in their bodies seemed to ease at your words and soft touch. they both looked up at you, their eyes full of guilt and embarrassment.

“we, uh...” gojo started, but geto cut him off again.

“we're sorry we didn't notice you looking for us,” he muttered, his voice still laced with shame. “we were just having a... disagreement, and we didn't want to bother you.” they both looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, their faces full of remorse.

seeing the guilt and embarrassment in their eyes, you softened, feeling a wave of affection for them despite their earlier antics. you reached out and gently helped them to their feet, your touch reassuring and comforting.

“come on, baby,” you said, your voice warm as you guided them towards the bedroom.

you could tell they were feeling remorseful, and despite your confusion over their odd behavior, you chose not to press the issue. instead, you opted to show them a different kind of comfort. “let’s just go to bed and cuddle,” you continued, smiling at them, “it’ll be okay.“

as you led them toward the bedroom, gojo’s initial nervousness began to melt away in the warmth of your gentle presence. noticing your obliviousness to the full extent of their earlier antics, he seized the opportunity to return to his usual self, his playful side resurfacing.

“you know,” gojo began, sliding closer to you with a wide, affectionate grin, “i’ve really missed you today.” he snuggled up to you, his usual playful demeanor coming back full force. “it’s like, you’re the best part of my day, and i’ve been counting the minutes until we could be like this again.”

geto, feeling the shift in gojo’s mood, couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the change. he followed suit, wrapping an arm around you as you all made your way to the bedroom. “yeah, what toru said,” he added with a softer smile “we definitely missed you.“

behind the closed door, the three of you entered the bedroom, where the soft, dim lighting created a cozy and comforting atmosphere. as you led them both toward the bed, gojo began to shed his shirt, the fabric slipping off his toned body with an air of nonchalance.

“you know,” he stated casually, “i think a cuddle session is exactly what we need right now.” he tossed his shirt aside, not even bothering to see where it landed as he flopped down onto the bed.

geto followed suit, tossing his shirt and pants aside as well before joining gojo on the bed. “definitely,” he agreed, resting his head on the pillow. “i could use a good cuddle right now. it’s been a long day, after all.”

both men looked up at you expectantly, their eyes full of a mix of affection and mischief. they patted the space between them, silently inviting you to join the snuggle puddle.

“come here,” gojo said, his voice low and warm.

as you complied with their silent invitation, snuggling in between them, gojo wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer against his bare chest. geto did the same, snuggling up against your back and molding his body to yours. his hand lightly caressed your arm, the touch tender and intimate.

“this is nice,” gojo murmured, burying his face into your hair. “i love having you here like this.”

the warmth of their bodies against yours was like a small, comfortable sanctuary. gojo’s arms were wrapped securely around you, his bare chest pressed against your back. geto was curled up behind you, his body molding to yours like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.

“it’s perfect,” geto agreed, his voice soft and muffled as he nuzzled into your hair. “having you here with us like this just makes everything feel right in the world.” gojo hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “absolutely,” he said, his eyes closing in contentment.

for a few moments, none of you spoke, the only sound was the soft rustle of sheets and the steady beat of everyone's hearts. then, gojo spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “can i tell you something, baby?”

you hum softly, still buried your face on his chest.

gojo's fingers continued to caress your skin as he gathered his thoughts. he was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke, his voice soft and serious.

“you know we care about you more than anything, right?” he asked, his hand moving to gently tilt your chin up so that you were looking at him. “more than anything in the entire world.” geto, sensing the sincerity in gojo’s words, moved in close on your other side, his arm wrapping tighter around you. “he’s right,” he muttered. “you mean the world to us.”

you felt a swell of warmth at their heartfelt words. you looked up at gojo, his gaze soft and sincere, and then turned to meet geto’s equally genuine eyes. your heart ached with affection for them both.

“i know,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. the emotions were almost overwhelming. you tightened your grip around gojo’s waist, pulling him closer, and then reached out to draw geto nearer to you as well.

gojo and geto both responded instantly to your wordless gesture, their bodies drawing closer as if magnetized to yours. gojo pulled you impossibly close to him, his arms embracing you like a vice, while geto pressed himself against your back, completing the cozy little sandwich.

gojo pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smirk. “we just... we want to make sure you feel loved and safe, always.”

geto’s chin rested on your shoulder, and he added his own gentle kisses to your neck and face. his hands stroked your arms soothingly, his touch tender and affectionate.

“always,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice low and earnest, “you matter so much to us, baby.” gojo’s chest vibrated slightly as he hummed, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“we’d do anything for you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

you let out a contented sigh, feeling the weight of their embrace and the tenderness of gojo’s kiss on your forehead. the warmth of their bodies pressed against you was incredibly comforting, and you closed your eyes for a moment to fully appreciate the feeling.

“i feel safe,” you murmured, your voice soft and sincere, “i always feel safe with you two, more than with anyone else. each time you cuddle me, it’s like my brain just turns off. i get so comfortable that i could fall asleep in seconds.”

you nestled even closer into their arms, savoring the sense of security and peace they provided. their combined presence was like a soothing balm, washing away any lingering worries or stress. in their embrace, you felt completely at ease, and the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle comfort of their love.

gojo and geto both tightened their hold on you even more as you spoke, their bodies pressing against yours like an impenetrable wall of warmth and affection. the knowledge that you felt safe and secure with them, that their presence could turn off your worries and calm your mind, filled their chests with a deep sense of contentment.

“good,” geto murmured against your neck. “that's exactly how it should be.”

gojo nuzzled against your hair, his arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you. “you should always feel like this,” he said, “like nothing in the world can touch you.”

as the three of you continued to snuggle, geto’s hand began tracing gentle patterns up and down your arm, his touch soothing and rhythmic.

“we would do anything to make sure you feel this way,” he said softly. “you deserve nothing less than happiness and comfort.” gojo leaned down slightly to press another gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a few moments before he spoke again.

“always, baby... always.”

you intertwine your free hand with geto’s, feeling his fingers gently intertwine with yours. with your other hand, you caressed gojo’s bare waist, enjoying the warmth and closeness of him.

as you felt their soothing touches and heard their comforting words, you closed your eyes, already starting to drift off. “i’m so grateful for you both,” you murmured softly, your voice barely audible. “thank you for being in my life.”

gojo and geto both held you tighter as you intertwined your fingers with geto’s and rested your palm on gojo’s waist. the simple touch was like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place, completing the circle of love and affection that surrounded you.

their hearts swelled with emotion at your words, and they both responded in unison, their voices low and soothing. “we’re the grateful ones, sweetheart,” gojo spoke up. “we should be thanking you for bringing us into your life,” geto continued, his voice warm and gentle.

you felt their embrace tighten around you, the simple touches of intertwined fingers and a warm palm on gojo’s waist completing the circle of love and affection. their words filled the space around you, wrapping you in a cocoon of emotional warmth.

as their voices melded into a soothing, harmonious backdrop, you drifted further into the comfort they provided. the gentle rise and fall of their breaths and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats guided you toward sleep.

you didn't have the chance to respond, as the comfort of their presence and their heartfelt words lulled you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

gojo and geto each felt a sense of deep contentment wash over them as they heard your breaths become slower and more even, signaling your descent into sleep. they held you close, their embraces protective and affectionate.

they watched over you as you slept, their gazes full of admiration and love. they continued to whisper soft, soothing words and gentle touches, ensuring you slept undisturbed and surrounded by their love.

“sweet dreams, baby,” gojo said quietly, his lips brushing your forehead. geto echoed his sentiment, his hand gently running through your hair. “we love you so much.”

the room was filled with a peaceful, quiet atmosphere, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of sheets and the soft rhythm of their breaths. gojo and geto were completely engrossed in their silent vigil, their senses fully attuned to you and your every movement.

slowly, the dawn began to break, casting a soft, morning glow into the room. it caught the edges of gojo’s silver hair and geto’s dark locks, creating a soft, halo-like effect around their heads.

964 notes · View notes

gyuzgrl · 7 months ago

Text

sixth sense //jww//

anon req- yandere/stalker Wonwoo

summary- when watching you wasn't enough, he'd sneak into your house to get himself off. what happens when Wonwoo realizes he might be able to get something more tonight?

wc- 6k

Wonwoo swore this would be the last time. As his feet carried him further and further, across the street into private property, he promised himself that this was it.

No more.

You see, no matter how hard he tried, Wonwoo just couldn't stop watching you. Where you walked around on campus, the way you spoke to just about everyone so sweetly, how you secretly drifted off in class- he saw it all.

He'd spend hours and hours staring at your face, observing the way your features would morph into all sorts of expressions- so much so he now knows them by heart.

What started as something innocent, however, turned much darker when he realised that you lived in the house opposite his.

Night upon night, Wonwoo would sit by his window, watching, observing as you went about your life, completely unaware.

Your curtains were open- always were.

He knew when you studied, when you slept, when you touched yourself. You were so naive, so innocent, he really just couldn't help himself.

You made it so easy.

And now he's here, inside your house- with an hour to spend and a filthy, filthy imagination.

He's been here a couple of times before. Once when you'd left to go study at the library, another time when Somi and you went out for brunch, last week when your mother and you went shopping.

This time was different, though.

This time, you'd left him a little present on your bed.

As he walks into your room with practiced ease, Wonwoo's breath catches at the sight of pretty pink lingerie and a matching vibrator, laying exposed on your duvet.

'oh you have plans tonight, don't you?'

His thoughts show so clearly on his face- that signature Wonwoo smirk, corners of his lips just barely tilting up, head tipping to one side as his eyes linger over the pink lacey fabric.

Tentatively, he takes hold of the toy, clasping it in his palm, feeling the smooth, shiny plastic against his skin. Wonwoo's thoughts drift to how you'd use it in a few hours, completely unaware that he's been touching it- in turn, indirectly touching you.

'didn't know you liked this kinda stuff,'

'dirty girl'

Your room's mostly clean, usually is, save for the tangle of wires under your desk and a few odd clothes tossed at the foot of your closet. The laundry bin's full; a lid keeps it under control, but fails to hide the silky red fabric of your panties- the ones he saw you take off earlier this morning.

His eyes light up. The vibrator is long forgotten.

Time is of the essence here- there's not a lot of it left- so he grabs the red fabric in a haste and holds it to his face, inhaling deeply to take in your scent.

"fuck-" he groans softly, knees weakening at how goddamn good you smell. There's a hint of that fabric softener you use, clean and floral, but there's also the intoxicating scent of you.

The most intimate part of you.

Wonwoo settles on your duvet, nose still buried into your panties, and his eyes flutter closed as an evil hand snakes it's way into his sweatpants.

His cock jumps at the contact, and he hisses, taking his lower lip in between his teeth. Thoughts of you flood his mind, and he replays the image of you from two nights ago, with your naked body on full display as you lay in this exact spot, touching that pretty cunt of yours.

Slowly, Wonwoo begins to pump himself, squeezing hard around his girth, trying to satiate that red hot pit of desire screaming within.

He takes in a shaky breath, letting you flood his senses, and he feels himself grow in his fist, now moving faster.

Wonwoo thinks of you- of your voice, of your face, of your body. How you'd sound, whimpering, sobbing under him, how your features would settle so perfectly into utter bliss, how your skin; soft to the touch, would jump under his fingertips.

Within minutes, he feels his cock throb. It's hot and heavy in his hand, the tip burns a fiery shade of red as he works himself up to his release pumping faster as he takes you in desperately.

"f-fuck y/n" he chokes out, head falling back into your pillows.

His fist tightens around the width of his dick, trying to mimic what he thinks you'll feel like, and in seconds he tips over the edge. Hot, white ropes stream out of his cock, dribbling out of the tip, and he hunches over quickly to your nightstand to pluck out a tissue or two.

As he cleans himself off, the guilt hits, like it always does.

This is wrong, he knows it is, but he really just can't bring himself to stop. It's as though you've cast a spell on him and now he's become your very own moon- chasing after you, endlessly.

Wonwoo tidies up the bed, fixing your sheets, fluffing up your duvet, and he deposits- albeit reluctantly- your panties back to their assigned spot in the laundry bin.

15 minutes till you come back home.

He heads to your kitchen and discards his soiled tissues into the garbage shoot, destroying all the evidence that he was ever here.

There's still a bit of time left for him, so he looks through your pantry, face falling when he sees the endless sea of instant-meal cartons and ramen packets.

'you really should take better care of yourself,'

Just as he's about to close the cabinet, something catches him eye.

A hand blender- rather, the hand blender you borrowed from him last week. In a sudden burst of genius, Wonwoo comes up with a plan.

It's hasty, definitely reckless, but he has a shot at getting to touch you.

step 1- hide the blender inside the highest shelf of your pantry.

check.

step 2- head back home, shower, put on the cologne you seem you like, change into loose grey sweats and a fitted white wife beater.

check.

step 3- wait till you get home and watch as you settle into bed, ready to play.

check.

step 4- once you begin to work yourself up, almost on the verge of release, that's when he'll strike, ringing your doorbell to ask for his blender.

Wonwoo's heart thuds against his chest as he presses your doorbell. The sound echoes around in his head and he swears he can feel his heart in his throat. Scuffling footsteps draw his attention back to you, and he smirks, imaging what you look like right now; scrambling around to cover yourself up, frustrated that you've been interrupted.

The distinct slap of your house slippers against wooden floors grows louder and louder, in time with Wonwoo's speeding heart, and he feels his mouth go dry.

This is happening.

Creaking your door open, you pop your head out, eyes widening when you see Wonwoo at your doorstep.

"this a bad time?" he asks, tilting his head to the side as his eyes rake over your body, observing the loosely tied robe you've covered up with.

"uh n-no, what's up Won?"

Fuck there was that petname you used all the time. He hated petnames, hated when people called him stuff like that, but with you? God, there was something so cute about it when you said his name like that. Makes him want to push you down and fuck you senseless right here on your doorstep.

"you remember that blender you borrowed? I kinda need it right now," his voice is deep as he speaks, and you notice his apperance.

Tight white vest, baggy grey sweatpants, wet hair- fuck he's your very own wet dream, delivered right to your doorstep. A deep blush spreads across your cheeks and you wonder if he knows what you've been up to.

"y-yeah, come in I've got it around here somewhere," you stutter, stepping back to let him in. Wonwoo steps forward, his long legs closing the distance between your bodies, and you gasp, eyes flicking over to his as he towers over you, barely an inch between your frame and his.

Once again, he let's his eyes skim over you, taking note of the way your cheeks heat up under his stare.

'oh? you like this, don't you?'

There's that smirk again, the knowing twitch of his lips, the condescending look in his eye. He's assured, you're far too desperate to turn him down when he makes his move.

Despite the rambling thoughts inside him, Wonwoo appears composed. He quirks a brow at you, looking almost unimpressed, and you scramble around for words..

"you w- you walk really um, really fast,"

"you don't," he states, bemused, "I really do need that blender, though."

Embarrassed, your skin burns crimson and your lips part, forming an 'o' shape.

"o-oh uh yeah that. it should be in here," you mutter, sauntering your way over to the kitchen with him trailing right behind.

Wonwoo has to physically restrain himself from reaching out to run his palm over the curve of your ass, swaying enticingly as you walk.

'fuck you made this so hard-'

You slip behind the kitchen island, throwing a quick glance his way over your shoulder, before opening up the first cabinet- the one that originally did have Wonwoo's blender.

Clumsy hands, pat around the surface of the shelf in vain, and you turn around, pouting. Wonwoo thinks this is his breaking point (it isn't, but still).

"not here, sorry this might take a while Won"

His heart swells at the petname, and inside he's got fireworks going off. On the outside, however, he remains unmoved.

"yeah take your time, baby, I've got all evening"

You flush.

He called you baby.

Turning to face him, you offer a watery, nervous smile.

"m'sorry Wonnie"

'oh fuck me-'

You turn back around pulling open another cabinet, and then another and another. Moving from the ones at eye level, you kneel down, digging through the shelves under your counter top. The angle makes Wonwoo dizzy.

'you're doing this on purpose, I swear'

On your knees, eyes a little teary from embarrassment, you look up at him, shaking your head. This is the sixth shelf.

"sorry-"

"you're good, here- I'll help you look"

Wonwoo's voice soothes through you, it's low timbre running along your nerves like guitar strings. He steps beside you, eyes scanning over the counter top as you stand up and open your highest cabinet.

You stand on your tip toes, arm fully outstretched, and you begin to search around; this time in the right cabinet. As your fingertips glaze over something that feels like a blender, your eyes light up, and Wonwoo, standing behind you, takes notice.

"think it's here"

The only issue now, is that you can't reach it. It's too high up for you to grasp properly. You stretch as far as you can, straining your body as you try to reach the little plastic device, and before you know what's happening, you feel a presence directly behind you.

Wonwoo.

His chest pushes flush against your back as his arm extends out far beyond yours, and you let out a surprised squeak.

He grins.

The hard muscle of his torso has your mouth watering, only adding to your desperation. Sure, having your orgasm so rudely ripped away is one thing, but to have Jeon Wonwoo of all people, dressed the way he is, pushing up against you, all while you're defenseless and unable to satisfy yourself? Oh this is just pure torture.

"found it" he whispers right above your ear, his breath tickling the shell of it. You shudder.

Wonwoo brings his arm back down, setting the item down on the counter. You turn around, caged between his arms, and your knees go weak at the sight in front of you.

The thick muscles of his arms are on full display, veins jutting out deliciously right beside you. Wonwoo's eyes stay trained on your own, a dark desire, a hunger, running wild in them.

Suddenly, you realise, your little bullet vibrator won't be enough for you tonight.

You gulp noticing the proximity of your bodies, of your faces, and Wonwoo smirks.

"you're all red,"

"s-shut up"

"but you are, I mean look at these" he grins, bringing his fingers up to press your cheeks together. "so fuckin' cute when you blush,"

You're stunned into silence.

"and this-" he motions to your robe, now loose, falling apart at your cleavage, revealing the delicate pink lace of your bra, "who's this for?"

Your eyes almost double in size when you glance down, and you scramble to adjust yourself.

"it's nothing! I was just- I was just um,"

"just what?"

Your brows scrunch up as you bite your lip, suddenly conscious of your surroundings, and you avoid his gaze, opting to look down at the fabric of his vest.

"were you playing with yourself?"

You shake your head furiously, tears welling in your eyes. God, this is embarrassing but for some reason, you find yourself growing hotter, wetter by the second, with your body pressed up against his.

"dirty girl,"

Wonwoo's voice is sultry and low, he's practically purring at you, eyes glazed over with desire. The way he calls you has your cunt clenching down around empty space, and you know you need this. You need him.

"if I was t-touching myself, would you be upset?"

'hook, line, and sinker.'

"oh princess, you were just trynna feel good, of course I won't be upset" he coos, stroking your hair.

"a-and if I say that I was thinking of y-"

"hm?"

"if I say that I was thinking of you, while I was... y'know, would you be mad?"

Oh he wasn't expecting that.

Not one bit.

The stoic, unmoving persona dissipates within seconds and Wonwoo let's out a shaky breath, bringing his face closer to yours, leaving barely an inch of space.

"not at all,"

There's a short pause as you both share understanding glances- a wordless confession.

"this is my mess to fix, isn't it?" he whispers, breath fanning over your face, burning hot against your cheeks.

You nod, desperately, and he leans his forehead against yours.

"and you want me to fix it, baby?"

"please," you whimper, pressing your thighs together helplessly.

Wasting not a second more, rather, unable to wait a second more, Wonwoo pushes his lips to yours, enveloping them in a hungry, needy kiss.

Hot, wet skin greets your mouth, cradling your lower lip as he sucks feverishly at the tender flesh. Wonwoo slides a hand up to your chin, tilting your face up between his thumb and forefinger, and you gasp when he prods his tongue into your mouth.

A pathetic whimper escapes you, and you give in to his body.

"you want this?" he pants, his breath hot, meshing with your own.

"I do- fuck I really do Wonnie"

Your voice is whiny, your eyes gloss over, Wonwoo curses under his breath.

Without warning, he slides his hands under your thighs, and hoists your body up, moving you to sit on the counter. You gasp at how easily he manages to lift you- like you're a fragile little doll, completely at his mercy.

As your thighs spill out from under the robe, they make contact with the cool, hard marble below, and you jump at the sudden sensation.

The fabric of your robe rides up, giving Wonwoo access to the hem of your panties, and his eyes flick down, darkening considerably when he looks at your pink lingerie.

"oh? what's this you're wearing?" There's a smirk in his voice, plain as day. His hands smooth over the front of your thighs, stopping right at the edge of the robe.

"may I?"

His eyes draw back up to yours, and he looks at you, the question genuine in his gaze.

"yes," you breathe, swallowing at the thick lump in your throat.

Eager hands slide up, disappearing momentarily under your robe to feel you first, before pulling the loose fabric apart completely.

Wonwoo slips the silky fabric over your shoulders, letting it pool around your thighs on the counter, and it's as though life presses pause for a while.

He stares at you in awe, in wonder, eyes tracing over every curve, every contour of your body and the lace against it.

"you're so beautiful-" he shudders, unable to stop himself from looking.

"I am?"

Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

"what, you didn't know?"

"uh uh," you shake your head, staring up at him through thick lashes, "nobody's called me that before"

There's a pause. You can practically hear the gears twisting and turning in Wonwoo's head, with his brow set in a frown.

'you really didn't know'

'how do I show yo-'

His lips twitch up, revelation written all over his face.

"as much as I'd love to fuck you into this counter, there's something better in store upstairs,"

"u-upstairs? but how do-"

"shh, princess, don't bother your pretty head about silly things, hm?" he cooes, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

In a swift motion, you feel the surface beneath you shift away as Wonwoo lifts you into his arms, hands hooked under the flesh of your ass.

You yelp, eyes wide with panic, but the adoring grin painted on his face calms you down. He walks up the stairs, turning to the right, unlocking your door.

"but how do you kno-"

"patience, pretty- we'll talk when I'm done with you" his voice takes on a darker tone, and you feel your arousal seep through the flimsy lace of your panties. Feeling the tip of his fingers dampen, Wonwoo smirks knowingly.

"someone's eager"

You blush, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Wonwoo's quick to pull you back.

"don't you dare hide from me."

The familiar, plush mattress of your bed greets your thighs as he sets you down gently, eyes practically glued to your face, scanning for discomfort.

"if you wanna stop you're gonna tell me, kay? if you can't use your words, tap twice" he says, bringing your hand to his bicep.

"uhuh" Your eyes are hazy, staring into his, as you marvel at how breathtaking he looks crouched down towards you, watching, observing.

Your hand smoothes over his muscles, dipping into the ridges, feeling how firm and strong he really is. Wonwoo shivers under your touch, revelling in how soft your fingers feel tracing over his skin.

"keep touching me and this is gonna go a lot different than how I planned,"

"oh yeah? what did you have planned?"

"you see that mirror there?" he tips his head to the side, angling it toward the mirror standing opposite your bed,

"I'm gonna make you watch."

Wonwoo crawls his way up the mattress, shifting himself to sit up against the head board. His legs are folded at the knees, spread just enough to fit you in between, and he smirks.

An arm moves to rest on his knee, and he crooks two fingers at you, a dangerous smirk playing at his lips.

"c'mere"

Wordlessly, you obey, moving shyly into his embrace, facing him so innocently, Wonwoo can barely bring himself to tell you that you need to turn around.

You shuffle onto your shins, awaiting his next command, and he sighs.

"so fuckin' eager- god I bet you're soaking"

Bashfully, you nod your head, eyes lowered.

"turn around for me, hm?" he ushers, his voice gentle yet firm, and you comply once again, turning in between his knees.

The sight before you has your face flaming. Right there on the wall sits a painting of you and Wonwoo, exposing your most intimate moments, bringing them to view. Your eyes meet in the mirror, and his own shine knowingly at the blush searing across your cheeks.

"keep your eyes on us, sweetheart" he mumbles into your ear, breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps spreading over your neck and shoulder. "don't you dare look away"

A soft whimper escapes you as Wonwoo's lips attach themselves to the skin just below your ear, kissing so gently it raises the tiny hairs on your neck. Your eyes narrow in on the spot connecting your bodies- his lips, your neck- and you feel yourself grow hotter, needier, just from the sight alone.

Leaving wet, dull red marks as he moves to the side, Wonwoo reaches a sensitive spot just above your collar bone, grinning against your skin when you gasp.

"see how pretty you look right now? all marked up for me- all mine,"

"a-all yours," you breathe, head lopping to the side, giving him better access to your neck.

His hands grasp your shoulders, smoothing down your arms slowly before settling at your stomach, essentially caging you into himself.

The sharp sting of his teeth nipping at your skin, the way he holds you so secure, how his voice- sensual and deep like the ocean- resonates deep inside you; it's simultaneously soothing and exciting.

While one part of you wants to melt into him, let yourself drown in the ebb and flow of his voice, the other part is on fire, raging within you, begging to be quenched.

"can I take this off?" he murmurs into your skin, hands grazing over the hem of your bra.

"please,"

Tantalisingly slow, Wonwoo rakes his nails lightly along the width of your bra, until they find your clasp.

Deftly, he clicks you free, ridding your body of the fitted fabric.

"oh would you just- just look at yourself, christ-"

Feverish hands slide under your arms, cupping your breasts, toying with your nipples, as your eyes remain trained on yourself and on the way he handles you.

Wonwoo kneads the flesh of your breasts, squeezing the supple flesh in his grasp, feeling how you fill up his palm so perfectly.

"Wonnie-" you whimper, watching how he manhandles your body, doing as he pleases with you.

"that's right, baby, Wonnie's right here"

His lips resume their work on your neck, pressing sloppy, heated kisses along your skin, occassionally nibbling at a particularly sensitive spot.

The hardened peaks of your breasts poke out enticingly, and Wonwoo knows it'll be criminal to leave them untouched. He pinches each one between his forefinger and thumb, rolling, tugging, squeezing the dark nubs, giving you a different kind of pleasure.

"oh my god-" you gasp, back arching when he tweaks one of your nipples with more pressure than before.

The motion sends a jolt of light all over your body, and you feel yourself yearning for more.

"didn't know you were such a dirty girl," he mumbles into your skin, "letting me touch you like this- must've needed a cock inside you really fucking bad, yeah?"

"uh uh- wanted you for so long Wonnie, just you"

Your voice is embarrassingly whiny and breathy, but Wonwoo hears you loud and clear. He looks at your reflection, meeting your eyes.

"just me, huh?"

You nod, biting your lip, suddenly embarrassed of your sudden confession-

"I- I like you,"

Wonwoo let's out a quivering breath, hands leaving your chest to pull you into a hug. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent as he leaves you with a muffled- "I like you too, god I really like you"

He sighs into your skin, relaxing as he doesn't have to hold his cards so close to his chest anymore. His feelings, your feelings, were out in the open. You feel for him the way he feels for you and that's enough.

The moment you share is almost sweet enough to let you forget the ache deep in your cunt.

Almost.

You need him.

"Wonnie,"

"yeah baby?"

"need you to touch me" Your voice is a mere whimper, you sound pathetic, but you can't bring yourself to care.

The corners of his lips turn up into a sly smirk, and you feel it against your skin. Wonwoo lifts his head, eyes finding yours, and you note a dangerous fire dancing behind his gaze.

His ankles hook over your own, trapping your legs under his as he spreads you open, completely at his mercy. You gasp, feeling your limbs move without your command, and Wonwoo mimics you, mocking your naive surprise.

"oh look at how pretty-" he mirrors your gasp, your wide-eyed expression, "all spread out for me, hm?"

For some reason, you can't bring yourself to bite back. Insults and snarky remarks flood your mind, and you chastise him internally, calling him an asshole, a cocky, arrogant idiot; but the sight in front of you brings you back to reality.

You like this- you like being mocked and ridiculed. You like being at his mercy, unable to control your body. The flush on your cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, tells you all you need to know.

Curse him in your head all you want, your body likes this.

Wonwoo let's his hand trail down, snaking past your collarbones, your tummy, just above the hem of your panties. You watch, transfixed, as his touch raises the tiny hairs on your body, creating a path of goosebumps.

A thick lump forms in your throat when he reaches where you need him most, and Wonwoo notices how your eyes are narrowed in on his hand.

"good girl, keep looking at yourself baby-" he breathes into your hair, sending a shudder down your spine.

Your heart swells at his praise, and you look at him, wide-eyed.

"hey," he warns, sliding a finger along your clothed slit before pressing down on your clit, "here. keep your eyes right here- you're gonna watch me fuck you,"

Your hips jerk up, jolting at the sudden stimulation, but his legs force you back down, pushing your body further against him.

Words escape you, your mouth feels dry, and your eyes snap back to the image of your clothed sex. The way his finger toys with your clit, teasing just enough, has you growing so desperate, you're willing to do just about anything to get him to touch you.

"Wonnie p-please," you shudder as his finger presses into you again, "please just- oh," Your voice breaks off into a broken moan when Wonwoo begins to rub firm circles into your clit.

The textured fabric of your lingerie adds an additional layer of stimulation to your nerves, sending sparks flying all over your skin like scattered fireworks.

"please?" he echoes, his tone mocking your own.

His fingers move faster, pushing down on your most sensitive spot, and you can't help but stare shamelessly at how effortlessly he plays with you.

Wonwoo reads the silent language of your body like no other, watching each crease in your forehead, each stutter of your hips to see what you need. Those long, slender fingers flick at you so easily, so deftly, it's as though he knows you better than you know yourself.

Soon enough, your clit throbs under his touch, and he knows you're close.

"oh sweetheart-" he coos, "I haven't even touched you yet-"

Your cunt clenches down at his condescending tone, anticipation building to a shocking crescendo. Just how far is he going to push you?

"m'gonna- fuck m'gonna cum-" you moan, head tipping back. Your legs twitch under his, and your thighs work tirelessly to press together, but in vain.

You're trapped.

"aw baby look," Wonwoo brings his free hand up to clasp your neck, forcibly turning your head straight. "so pretty like this- fuck you're shaking,"

Your eyes flick over your reflection, hazy as ever, and you feel your orgasm coming on. There's something so sexy about watching yourself come undone, watching Wonwoo spread you apart and use you like a little toy.

A wave of pleasure, approaching fast, washes over you as he works you up to your orgasm. The rough texture of your panties has you drooling, and soon enough, you're nerves ache from overstimulation.

"that's it, princess- so good for me,"

Wonwoo pushes the crotch of your panties aside, without warning, and dips two fingers into your cunt, pushing deep inside to collect your essence. Your body jolts in his embrace, thighs tensing with effort to squirm away from him, but again, there's no escaping.

"oh you taste like heaven," he groans, slipping his fingers into his mouth, licking up every drop he collected.

You find yourself entranced by the sight, watching him clean off his fingers, slipping his tongue so deftly between each digit, you can't help but wonder what it would feel like inside you.

Noticing the fascination with which you observe him, Wonwoo shoots you a sly smirk, letting your legs slip free.

'I know what you're thinking,'

"turn around,"

Your body moves on its own, following his voice, and you shift in his arms with your back to the mirror.

"now c'mere," he licks his lips, moving his hands to your waist, pulling you onto his thigh.

Within seconds, his lips are on yours, pressing needy, hungry kisses to your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy, in dire need of more.

Air escapes you quicker than water in a broken dam, and you find yourself growing light-headed, pulling away for breath despite Wonwoo's grumbling.

When you draw back for the third time, he's beyond frustrated, groaning as his lips chase yours.

"get back here." he seethes, hands gripping the flesh of your waist, "right. fucking. now"

Your body, unfortunately, is slow to respond.

Wonwoo curses under his breath before flipping you over, arms straining as he lays you down as gently as he can.

You yelp, clutching onto his biceps like your very own safety belt, and your eyes widen at how easily he moves you.

"what are y-"

"can't have you running away," he smirks, tongue running along his lower lip.

Balancing his weight on one arm while bringing your hand to touch the other, Wonwoo repeats himself-

"if you want to stop, tell me. if that isn't possible-"

"tap twice, got it" you interrupt hastily, impatient as ever. He smiles fondly at you, a soft huff of laughter spilling past his lips.

"that's my girl,"

Your nails run over a thick vein jutting out from under his skin, and he swallows thickly, Adam's apple dipping low into his throat.

"you're really fucking distracting, y'know that?" he tuts, grabbing your hand and pinning it up above your head.

Before you can respond, Wonwoo captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, shoving his tongue past your lips, and exploring the expanse of your mouth fervently as if he's trying to memorize the way you feel, the way you taste.

The hand on your wrist loosens its grip and Wonwoo runs his fingers down the inside of your arm- ghosting a feathery touch over the sensitive skin.

"Won-" you whimper into his mouth, desperate for air, but he doubles down, pushing his lips closer to yours. Your helpless, muffled whines fill his ears and he can't help but grin against your lips.

'you make the prettiest sounds,'

Finally showing mercy, Wonwoo lets you breathe, moving from your lips to your chest, kissing his way down to your soaked panties.

"made a mess of these-" You can practically hear the smirk in his voice and you want nothing more than to smack it off, but you know he's right.

"you'll clean me up though, won't you?"

Silence.

Wonwoo sucks in a deep, composing inhale. His eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches. There's a deep, dark desire, an untameable lust behind the browns of his eyes, one that sends a shiver down your spine.

His fingers hook into your panties, tugging them off firmly, and his jaw clenches at the sight of your bare cunt.

"fuck-"

As if under a spell, Wonwoo finds himself drawn to you, placing his lips to your sex. He sticks a kiss to your slit before running his tongue along your folds and you know you're done for when your legs begin to twitch.

"oh please-" you whimper, hips bucking up into his tongue, and his lips twitch up. He brings his tongue to your hole, prodding it inside you, flicking in and out as his hand splays over your lower belly, thumbing your puffy clit.

Your jaw falls slack, hanging open, and your head lolls over to the side in pure ecstasy.

Wonwoo moves inside you with ease, pressing into every spot you need, rubbing lazy circles into your sensitive nerves. A choked moan claws its way up your throat, flooding the room, and Wonwoo knows he's doing something right.

All those nights studying you, the way you touched yourself, the things you seemed to like- they paid off in the end.

Your breathing grows unsteady and rapid, and he moves faster, pushes deeper into you, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

"f-fu- Wonnie m'gon-" you stutter, breathlessly, and he hums an affirmation, his voice sending waves reverberating through your nerves. The added stimulation of his voice, buzzing through you, is just enough to send you over the edge, and you cum on his tongue, back arching off the bed.

Unable to control the sounds escaping you, you're a whimpering, moaning jumble of nerves.

"that's it, baby-" he soothes, easing his tongue over your cunt, lapping up the remnants of arousal as you shudder uncontrollably. "taste so fuckin' good,"

Wonwoo kisses up your torso, settling on his knees to take his clothes off.

The white tank goes first, revealing his chiseled upper body, and your jaw drops. He looks unreal. The sweatpants are next, leaving him in a pair of fitted black boxers that cling to the width of his thighs and do little to hide his size.

"you're still okay with this?" he asks one last time, fingers halting at his boxers.

Stunned by the view, you nod dumbly, lips still parted in surprise.

"baby- I need wor-"

"yes! yes- yes I'm o-okay with this" you blurt out, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"do you hav-"

"I'm on the pill" The boxers are shucked off.

Oh my God.

The mattress dips under his weight, dimples forming under his knees and elbows as he hovers over you. Wonwoo places a chaste kiss to your forehead, aligning himself with your entrance before easing into you.

"you-you're so big-" you breathe, feeling the wind knocked out of your lungs. "Wonnie- oh my god"

Your eyes widen, brows knitting together as he pushes further and further, until he bottoms out inside you.

"shi-shit that's it- takin' me so good-" he hisses, clenching his teeth.

The girth of his cock has your walls stretching wide, trying desperately to accommodate him, and your eyes roll back. Wonwoo finds himself in a bit of a dilemma, unable to figure out whether to keep his eyes on your face, contorting in undeniable pleasure, or on your cunt being stuffed full by his cock.

With each thrust of his hips, you feel him move further, reaching deeper inside you until his tip nudges your cervix, coaxing out strangled moans on your part. The thick, pulsating vein running along the underside of his cock drags against your walls, and you feel him grow inside you- getting even bigger than before.

"W-onnie-" you mewl, words cut off by sharp gasps every time he slams back into you. "too big oh my g-"

"shh, you're takin' me so good doll, doin' so fucking good for me-" His voice is tainted with effort, each consonant ringing sharp and breathy as his lips ghost over yours.

Every fiber in your body buzzes with electricity, sweat glistens off of you like gold- you're on top of the world right now. The pleasure you feel in this moment is simply unparalleled. Nobody has, or ever will, come close.

Wonwoo's motions pick up speed, as he hooks his arm under your thigh, pulling it over his back- angling himself deeper into you, reaching spots you don't even know exist.

The first thrust with this newfound angle has both of your lips parting, breathing out shaky "oh"s against each other. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head, breathing ragged and fast.

Wonwoo lets out a huff, smirking like he isn't gasping for breath the same way your are-

"that's it- I know you're close baby"

His hand leaves your thigh, rubbing zig-zag patterns into your clit, just enough to steal that orgasm out of you. The calloused pads of his fingers show no mercy, pressing directly on your nerves, and your hole spasms around him. You're certain you can feel your heartbeat where his finger presses, you can feel his too with the way his cock throbs inside you.

"so goddamn tight-" Wonwoo seethes, now feeling his own high approaching. He continues his motions on your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves from left to right, until you finally give in with a sob.

"m'cumming oh fuc- oh fuck"

The muscles of your thighs tense momentarily, cunt clenching down hard around his cock, before you let go completely. A warm, prickly relaxation washes over you, and Wonwoo grunts, releasing himself inside you.

His thrusts slow to a halt, and he lets out an airy laugh, in disbelief. He stares down at your disheveled frame- flushed, sweaty skin, blown pupils, hair tangled up around your head.

"you're beautiful," he breathes, unable to hold his tongue, and you giggle, turning away bashfully.

Wonwoo tilts your chin back, pulling you to face him-

"I really like you, y/n,"

You smile, eyes shimmering up at him. "I like you more"

There's a brief pause as you gaze into each other's eyes, before you realise something.

"wait- how'd you know wh-"

"sixth sense" he grins, eyes carrying just a touch of madness. "I know everything."

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