#giving nerve a break for a moment..............

[mymoonisgrey]

B2B

❤︎ ໋𓈒 back to back, love to hate, hate to love— your relationship with gojo satoru was a mess, but, you can’t really leave, can you?

warnings. 18+, smut, satoru is a munch, yearning, brief cameo of yandere!satoru, breeding kink if you squint, borderline obsession and possessiveness, toxicity, masturbation (m)

wc. 7,43k

You were reminiscing on decisions you made in high-school that got you to this point.

You were never the type to generally date. It wasn’t your thing, never was—you once said your perdition would come as a man trying to ruin your life, or ruin you generally, body and soul.

However, the 19-year-old theory hit you hard, because Gojo Satoru weaved himself into your life like a cobweb you can't seem to dust. You didn’t give in so easily, no. You took your sweet time to finally get in the scene, without ever seeking advice from friends because somehow situationships always disappear when you tell a friend about them.

But Gojo? He was persistent. He had his hands in your pockets before you even realized he was slipping his fingers between yours. His charm was something built into his DNA, impossible to resist, even when you swore you would. He knew how to make you laugh when you were furious, knew how to touch you like he was mapping out constellations on your skin. And maybe that’s why, even when it hurt, even when you knew better, you always came back.

The fights were cinematic—shouting matches in rain-soaked streets, doors slamming, voices breaking on words too sharp to take back. But the reunions? They were something biblical. You’d fold into him like he was home, let him press his apologies into your skin, your lips, your throat. And just like that, you’d start again. Back-to-back, love to hate, hate to love. A cycle neither of you wanted to break.

Because both of you had flaws neither of you could fix, but only learn to love. There’s constantly something to worry about—whether it was Utahime’s closeness to him and how it managed to get on every nerve of yours—or how men swarmed around you like ants on glucose, it was fucked up. He once had to verbally warn his ex-best friend to leave you alone.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

OCTOBER

You walk in with a sense of dread—you ‘broke’ up with Gojo two months ago, and it has been like... the longest you two have been separated since high school. Jujutsu Tech was lively and it made you nostalgic for the days you ran around as a student rather than a sorceress-to-be, life was much easier back then anyway, wasn’t it?

You know you’ll see him as usual, he runs this place, walks like he owns it because hell—if someone had the power he did, they’d be a lot cockier and haughty than he is. Satoru is considered humble compared to the rest of the power-hungry geezers you put your neck out there for.

The memories flood in before you can stop them. The late-night missions where exhaustion blurred the lines between camaraderie and something deeper. The way he’d lean into you, mask slipping—only for a second—before the world called him back. The stolen moments in between duty and destiny, the whispered confessions between bruises and battle scars. You remember the way he looked at you then, like you were something sacred, something he wasn’t quite allowed to have but couldn’t help but claim anyway.

And then, the downfall. The slow unraveling, the fights that started small but snowballed into something monstrous. The jealousy, the frustration, the push and pull of two people who loved too hard and hurt even harder. You remember walking away that night, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back, the ache in your chest that felt like a wound that would never close.

You shake the thought away, forcing yourself back into the present. You weren’t here for him, not really. You had a job to do. And yet, as you step further into the familiar halls, you can’t help but feel it—the pull, the inevitability of it all. Because no matter how far you run, how long you stay away, it always leads back to him.

Back-to-back. Love to hate. Hate to love.

Your line of sight drifts to the bright green fields stretching out, where a couple of students train one-on-one—blades clashing, curses forming, sweat glistening under the afternoon sun. Your gaze flickers, unintentional, to those three students: pink hair, black hair, and brown hair with a voice loud enough to carry over the clash of sparring.

Then, your eyes find him.

That white, silvery hair you know the soft texture of like your own name. He’s dressed simply—a white tee, his usual slacks, hands tucked into his pockets. A pair of God-knows-how-expensive sunglasses shields his eyes, but you know what’s behind them. That easy smile graces his lips, effortlessly relaxed as he watches his students, his posture all confidence, all control.

Your stomach churns with something familiar, a tangled mess of longing, resentment, and something you won’t dare name. And then—your heart plummets, crashing straight to the pit of your stomach when his head snaps with surgical precision, turning directly toward you. Of course, he felt it. He always does.

His gaze pins you in place, a tether snapping taut between you, even from across the field. There’s no mistaking it, the way recognition flickers behind those ridiculous shades.

You almost want to disappear, but it’s too late. How the hell—scratch that. Of course, he’d know. Him and those freak-show eyes you love so fucking much.

Your face remains neutral, betraying none of the storm beneath, despite the way your fingers dig into your palms, nails carving crescents into your skin. He doesn’t look away. Instead, he smiles, slow and easy, like he has all the time in the world. His eyes flicker downward, just for a second, shameless and languid, before locking with yours again. And in that moment, through the tinted lenses, you catch it—a glimmer of iridescent blue, a ghost of something unspoken.

His lips part, and you swear you see the tip of his tongue dart out to wet them. His head tilts, the corner of his mouth quirking like he’s thinking something inappropriate—no, scratch that, he definitely is.

Then he raises a hand in a lazy wave, and you can hear it in your head before he even says it. Miss me, baby?

God, you hate him. And even worse? He knows you don’t.

You spare him a nod, offering a brief, almost nonexistent smile, before turning away and heading toward the administration building.

Your pulse is erratic, but you keep your steps measured. Controlled. Like he didn’t just unravel something inside you with a single look.

This is why you never did love—because how the hell are you supposed to just... forget someone and move on? Like flipping a switch? Like love is something that fades if you just give it enough time? That wasn’t you. You weren’t built for that kind of indifference.

And as for him...

You don’t know.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That his life—his thoughts, his wants—are no longer yours to consider. But there’s an itch in the back of your mind, a whisper of doubt crawling up your spine.

Would he ever get over you?

Would he even try?

❤︎ ໋𓈒

Gojo had never moved toward his office as quickly as he did now, his long strides purposeful, nearly frantic, his heart hammering in his chest. Seeing you—hell, even just feeling your presence—had turned his entire world on its axis, and no amount of cocky bravado could hide it. Who the fuck was he kidding? He needed you back. Pronto.

The moment he shut the door behind him, his back hit the wood with a heavy thud, his head tilting upward as he stared at the ceiling. His breath was uneven, hands twitching at his sides.

And then there was the other problem.

The one currently straining against the fabric of his pants.

"Fuck," he muttered, his brows knitting together as the ache in his chest twisted into something darker, heavier. His body felt like it was fighting itself, caught in the crossfire between want and restraint.

He had no idea what the hell he was even horny for—you hadn’t been wearing anything particularly revealing, hadn’t even done anything except stand there looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. And yet, his entire body reacted like it had been starved for you. Because it had.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before unbuckling his belt, frustration coiling hot and tight in his stomach. He palmed himself through his slacks first, the friction barely enough to ease the throbbing pulse of his cock, already leaking against the fabric.

His sunglasses were thrown somewhere across the room as he pulled himself free, hissing at the rush of cool air against burning-hot skin. His cock was hard, thick, an angry red at the tip, drooling precum like it was begging for relief.

The only cure was you.

He spat into his palm, a filthy, wet sound breaking the silence, and wrapped his fingers around himself, squeezing at the base before giving a slow, torturous stroke upward. "Shit," he groaned, his voice husky, dripping with need. His shirt bunched between his teeth as his free hand gripped his desk, knuckles going white.

His pace picked up, faster, rougher, as images of you flooded his mind. You, with your legs spread wide for him, your lips swollen from his kisses, your body arching, gasping his name like a prayer.

"Fuck, baby..." he panted, hips jerking into his fist, his strokes messy, erratic. "Miss this fuckin' pussy... goddamn, you made for me. Shit—gonna fuckin'—"

The orgasm ripped through him, his whole body shuddering as thick ropes of cum spilled over his fingers, his stomach, his mind blanking out in white-hot pleasure. His breath was ragged, uneven, body twitching as the aftershocks coursed through him.

And then...

The silence hit. Hard.

Post-nut clarity slammed into him like a freight train.

What the fuck was he doing?

This wasn’t enough. Not even close.

He needed you. Bad. Toxicity be damned.

Because no matter how fucked up the cycle was, no matter how many times you tore each other apart, he knew one thing for certain.

He wasn’t letting you go. Not again.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

The only time Yaga ever felt generous enough to take his hardworking sorcerers out to dinner—some looked forward to it, others did not. It was just simple barbecue, nothing extravagant, but the company always managed to make it lively—especially Shoko, who was an absolute menace when she got drunk.

The air was thick with the smell of sizzling meat, sweet and smoky, mingling with the distant scent of cigarette smoke. The usual bustling sounds of downtown Tokyo surrounded you—laughter spilling from izakayas, the occasional honk of a car, the chatter of normies oblivious to the weight the people at this particular table carried.

Nanami, naturally, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, his displeased grunts audible every time someone—usually Gojo—spoke too loudly. His arms were crossed, his beer barely touched, his patience thinning with every passing second.

Shoko was already a drink in, lazily leaning against the table with a lopsided smirk. Her brown eyes were hazy under the dim lighting, and the way she swirled the ice in her glass told everyone she was only just getting started.

You sat beside her, one hand propping up your cheek, the other absentmindedly pushing around the meat sizzling on the grill in front of you. There was something about the atmosphere tonight—lively, warm, yet… off. Maybe it was the way you felt his eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, even as he pretended to be fully engrossed in whatever ridiculous conversation he was having with Nanami.

Or maybe it was the way your stomach twisted, knowing he wasn’t just looking.

He was remembering.

His posture was lazy, his usual grin in place, but his fingers drummed against the table with slow, rhythmic taps. You knew him too well—his restless energy, his smug amusement—but this? This was different. His legs were spread wide, arms slung over the back of his seat, and beneath the cover of his dark lenses, his gaze flickered, tracing the curve of your cheek, your lips, your throat.

He looked calm. Completely at ease.

And yet, beneath the table, his fingers curled slightly, the ghost of a grip.

Fuck.

The thought hit him like a truck.

He hadn’t been able to get you out of his head since this afternoon. Since the moment he saw you standing in front of Jujutsu Tech, looking like something he wasn’t sure he deserved but wanted anyway. The way you had looked at him—stiff, hesitant, like you were trying so hard to act unbothered—had sent a wildfire through his veins.

He had barely made it to his office before undoing his belt, his mind already painting too-clear images of you, the way your lips parted, the way your legs felt wrapped around his waist. He had gritted his teeth, hissing your name under his breath, fisting his cock like a starved man—fast, desperate, chasing something that didn’t exist outside his head.

And now, here you were. Sitting just a few feet away, oblivious—or maybe not—to the fact that earlier today, he had been thinking about nothing but you while spilling all over his own hand.

His jaw flexed.

You shifted slightly in your seat, rolling your shoulders as if shaking off the weight of his gaze. The movement made the hem of your top ride up just the tiniest bit, exposing a sliver of skin, and Gojo—despite his reputation, despite his control—felt something snap inside him.

His fingers stopped drumming.

The air between you grew thick, unbearably so, like a taut rope ready to snap.

You still didn’t look at him.

And he didn’t look away.

This was bad.

He needed you back.

Toxic or not.

The weight of his gaze was suffocating. It pressed against your skin, coiled around your throat, settled in the pit of your stomach like something dangerous. You swallowed against it, forcing yourself to stay still, to not react—but your fingers twitched, and your heart pounded, and you knew if you sat there a second longer, your composure would snap.

You leaned toward Shoko, murmuring a quick excuse before pushing back your chair, slipping away before your legs could betray just how unsteady you felt. You barely registered the bustle of the restaurant, the warmth of the air thick with the scent of grilled meat and soju. All you could focus on was the pounding in your chest, the way the tension clung to you like a second skin.

The bathroom door shut behind you with a quiet click. You exhaled sharply, pressing your back against it, your pulse loud in your ears.

What the fuck was this?

Two months. Two fucking months. You should’ve been over it by now. Should’ve built an iron wall around your heart, should’ve let time do its thing and dull the edges of what you felt for him.

And yet, it took nothing. Just a look. Just the ghost of a smirk. Just the knowledge that, beneath that cocky mask, there was something else—something darker, something desperate.

A muscle in your jaw ticked. You refused to be the one to break.

But you should’ve known better than to assume Gojo Satoru would let you leave first.

Out at the table, he was still staring at the closed door.

He knew you weren’t running from the conversation at the table. He knew you weren’t going to throw up from too much soju. He knew exactly why you left. And fuck, if that didn’t send a sick thrill down his spine.

With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen blank—but that didn’t matter. His movements were smooth, calculated. He glanced up, feigning distraction, catching Shoko’s gaze. She squinted at him, trying to focus through her haze of alcohol, but before she could voice the question forming in her mind, he was already standing.

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he stepped away from the table, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.

Shoko blinked slowly, then exhaled, swirling the ice in her drink.

“…This is gonna be a mess,” she mumbled to herself.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

The bathroom door slammed open so hard it rattled against the hinges.

Your breath caught.

Satoru stood in the doorway, tall, imposing, his presence swallowing the small space whole. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing you both in, the air turning suffocating in an instant.

You straightened, fingers twitching at your sides, but you didn’t move back. You held your ground, even as your pulse roared, even as something electric crawled down your spine.

His hands were still in his pockets, his stance deceptively casual, but you weren’t fooled. His broad chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths, his jaw tense. Those sunglasses of his—arrogant, infuriating—were gone, stuffed somewhere in his pocket, and that meant his eyes were on you.

Unfiltered. Unhidden.

And you felt them.

The weight of them. The hunger in them. The sharp edge of something between obsession and anger.

Seconds passed.

Neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched, taut and fragile, like something was about to snap.

And then, finally—

“…Why are you here?” Your voice was steady, but there was venom beneath it.

His lips curled, slow, deliberate. His head tilted just slightly, like he was amused, like he wasn’t the one who had cornered you in a fucking bathroom like a desperate man.

“You tell me,” he said smoothly. “You ran first.”

Your fingers twitched. “And you followed.”

His eyes dragged over your face, slow, taking his time, like he was savoring something.

“You left me with a problem,” he murmured.

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let it show. “Not my issue.”

Gojo clicked his tongue, taking a single step closer. Just one. Just enough to make the space between you feel nonexistent.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he mused, voice dipping lower, dangerous now. “You’ve always been my issue. Even when you don’t wanna be.”

His scent curled around you—clean, sharp, tinged with the faintest trace of the cologne you still remembered, the one you once pressed your face into his neck to breathe in.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs.

This was dangerous.

You knew it.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he murmured, voice dripping with something dark. “You have any idea what you did to me earlier?”

Your breath hitched.

Shit.

You knew exactly what he meant.

But you refused to acknowledge it.

Instead, you exhaled sharply, planting a firm hand against his chest, shoving him back—just enough to put space between you. Just enough to make it clear you weren’t playing his game.

“Don’t start,” you bit out, your voice cutting, but the effect was ruined by the way your breath was still uneven.

Satoru barely moved, barely reacted. If anything, the corner of his mouth twitched, like he found it cute.

That pissed you off more than it should have.

“Start what?” he asked lazily, tilting his head. “You’re the one running, sweetheart. And for what? You really think you’re over me?”

Your jaw clenched. “I don’t think—I know.”

He snorted. “Sure. That’s why you’re shaking right now, right?”

Your nostrils flared. “Fuck off, Satoru.”

“Or what?” His voice dropped, teasing but sharp. “You’ll run again? You’ll pretend like none of this ever happened?”

You hated how easily he got under your skin. Hated how he knew exactly where to poke, exactly which wounds to press his fingers into.

“I don’t have to pretend,” you shot back. “It already ended. Two months ago.”

His expression darkened, his smile slipping just slightly. “Yeah? And you’ve been real happy since then, huh?”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him see how your fingers trembled slightly where they dug into your skin.

“Actually?” You forced a smirk. “I’ve never been better.”

It was a lie, and you both knew it.

And for the first time tonight, something flickered in Gojo’s expression.

Something ugly.

Something that twisted and burned behind his eyes.

His lips curled—not in amusement, but in something bitter, something close to anger.

“You really wanna play that game?” he murmured, stepping forward. “Fine. Let’s play.”

He reached up, his fingers gripping your chin—not harshly, but firm, tilting your face up to his.

“Tell me,” he continued, his voice lower now, something dangerous coiled beneath it. “When you’re lying in bed at night, when it’s quiet, when there’s no one else around—do you still touch yourself thinking about me?”

Your stomach clenched, heat flashing through your veins, but you didn’t let it show. Didn’t let him see how that single sentence knocked the breath out of your lungs.

You scoffed instead, eyes narrowing. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Gojo grinned. “Yeah? But you like it.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

Your mouth opened—but no words came out.

And Satoru saw it.

His grip on your chin tightened, just barely, his thumb brushing over the corner of your lip, his eyes dipping down—watching, waiting.

You hated him.

Hated how easily he broke past your walls.

Hated how, even now, even after everything, your body still reacted to him like this.

Hated how much you fucking wanted him.

And he knew.

Of course he knew.

A slow exhale left him, his breath fanning over your lips, and you felt it—the shift in the air, the way the tension between you snapped from hostility to something darker, something that burned.

“I jacked off to you today,” he murmured, his tone almost conversational, but there was a roughness to it. A rawness. “Couldn’t even fucking help it.”

Your stomach flipped.

“I was pissed, you know?” His thumb dragged down, tracing the curve of your jaw. “Seeing you. Watching you act like I don’t fucking exist. Like you weren’t mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you bit out.

Satoru smiled.

And then he laughed.

Low. Mocking.

Like you just said the funniest shit in the world.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, and your breath caught at the way his voice dipped into something dark, something possessive. “You’ve always been mine.”

Your fingers twitched.

And then you did what your body screamed at you to do.

You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was teeth clashing, hands grasping, months of tension snapping like a rubber band pulled too tight. It was resentment, and love, and lust, and every unsaid word swallowed into the heat of the moment.

Satoru groaned against your mouth, his hands snapping to your hips, yanking you flush against him.

And fuck—he was already hard.

You felt it, pressing against you, his body burning hot, his grip rough as he spun you, backing you against the sink.

“You always do this,” you panted against his lips. “You always—”

“Always what?” he murmured, dragging his teeth along your jaw, his hands slipping under your shirt, burning against your skin. “Make you want me?”

You shuddered, fingers tangling into his hair, tugging harshly—and he groaned, low and wrecked.

“You fucking love it,” he said against your throat.

You hated that he was right.

But you weren’t about to let him win that easily.

Your hand slid down, palming him through his slacks, and his breath hitched, his hips jerking into your touch.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

You smirked. “What was that?”

His grip on you tightened, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that.”

And then he was yanking your head back, capturing your lips in another kiss, and you knew—this wasn’t ending anytime soon.

Your fingers curled tighter into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and the sharp hiss that left his lips sent heat flashing straight down your spine.

But just as fast as it started, you wrenched yourself back.

Breathless.

Satoru’s grip on your waist tightened for a fraction of a second—like he didn’t want to let go. Like he physically couldn’t. But you pushed against his chest, and he let you slip through his fingers, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as you put space between you.

A smirk curled your lips as you leaned back against the sink, crossing your arms. “What happened to all that confidence, Satoru?”

His chest rose and fell with each breath, his jaw ticking.

“Don’t fucking start,” he muttered.

“Or what?” You tilted your head, faux innocence dripping from your tone. “You’ll break?”

The muscle in his jaw clenched harder. His hands twitched. His eyes—fuck, those fucking eyes—burned into yours with something wild, something unrestrained.

And then, just when you thought he was going to snap—he laughed.

Not his usual laugh. Not the carefree, cocky one he tossed around like spare change.

This was different.

Low. Dark. Wrecked.

Like he already knew he was losing.

Satoru took a slow step forward, closing the distance you put between you, his fingers dragging along the edge of the sink counter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You wanna play, baby?” His voice was soft. Dangerous. “Fine. Let’s play.”

You didn’t move when he caged you in, his hands bracketing your hips, his breath fanning against your cheek.

“But we both know how this ends,” he murmured.

You swallowed. “Enlighten me.”

His lips brushed against your jaw—so close, but not touching. Just there. Just teasing.

“It ends with you on your knees,” he said, voice thick with something sinful. “Or maybe I’ll be on mine. You know I never minded.”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but you didn’t let it show.

Instead, you let your lips curl into a slow, deliberate smirk. “I think you need me more than I need you.”

That got him.

His nostrils flared. His fingers flexed against the counter. His whole body tensed like a live wire about to snap.

And you had him.

For a split second, he looked like he was going to crack, to give in—

But then—

He stepped back.

The loss of his warmth, the absence of his presence, sent something hollow through your chest.

Satoru exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his head tilting back toward the ceiling. “You drive me fucking insane,” he muttered.

And then he looked at you—really looked at you.

Like you were something unattainable. Like he could reach for you, but you’d slip through his fingers.

Like he was already mourning the loss of you, even though you were right there.

Something inside you clenched.

Because Satoru never looked at you like that.

Not like he was breaking.

Not like he was crumbling under the weight of you.

And that—that scared you more than anything.

You turned, grabbing the door handle.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was sharp.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

And that second was all he needed.

In one swift movement, he was there again—right behind you, his chest pressing flush against your back, his fingers gripping your hips with bruising force.

“Go ahead,” he murmured into your ear. “Walk out that door.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching against the handle.

His hands slid down, slow, deliberate, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs.

“But we both know you won’t.”

Your breath hitched when he rocked against you, his erection pressing firm against the curve of your ass.

Your fingers clenched around the handle.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. “I’m going insane.”

You closed your eyes. “Then let me go.”

His laugh was soft. Bitter.

“Never,” he whispered.

And then his fingers dug in, and he spun you—slamming you back against the door.

His hands were everywhere, mapping out the body he had memorized, relearning every curve and dip like he was starving.

“You think I don’t miss you?” he rasped.

Your heart pounded.

He kissed you before you could answer.

Desperate.

Teeth and tongue and months of loneliness crashing into you all at once.

His hands slid under your thighs, hoisting you up, pinning you between him and the door.

“I can still taste you,” he murmured against your lips.

Your breath stuttered.

His grip on you was bruising, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking, biting, marking.

“You think you can just leave me?” His voice was rough. “Think you can just walk away?”

Your head tilted back, breathless, overwhelmed.

“You’re mine,” he muttered against your skin, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingers tracing the edge of your waistband.

You gasped when his hand dipped lower.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

You didn’t. You never could.

Because even now, even after everything— You still wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, yanking them down with a sharp tug, and your breath hitched as the cool air kissed your heated skin.

“Satoru—”

“Shh,” he hushed, lips dragging along the column of your throat. “S’okay, jus’ me, baby.”

His voice was low, raspy, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest as he palmed between your legs, fingers running over the damp fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned. “What, you missed me that much?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer.

He didn’t like that.

Without warning, he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, and your hips jerked involuntarily.

“There’s my answer,” he murmured, lips ghosting against your ear.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pushed your panties aside, two fingers sliding through your slick folds, teasing.

“Y’know,” he mused, voice like velvet, “I thought jerking off earlier would take the edge off. But look at me.”

You felt him grind against your thigh, the thick outline of his cock straining against his slacks, hot and heavy.

“Didn’t work,” he continued, dragging his fingers through your slickness, circling your clit with lazy, taunting strokes. “Still fuckin’ starving for you.”

Your breath hitched when he pushed a finger inside, slow, teasing, curling it just enough to make you gasp.

“Missed this pretty pussy,” he murmured, adding another finger, stretching you out. “my pretty pussy.”

Your head tilted back against the door, a sharp moan slipping from your lips.

His pace quickened, fingers thrusting in and out, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit, every motion calculated, precise, like he was pulling you apart piece by piece. “Feel good, baby?”

You nodded frantically, hips bucking into his hand.

“voice, honey, use it.”

“Y-yeah,” you choked out. “Feels so fucking good.”

A wicked smile tugged at his lips.

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers suddenly disappearing—making you whine at the loss—before he spun you around, pressing your chest against the door. “Hands up,” he ordered.

You obeyed instantly, pressing your palms against the doorframe, your breath coming in quick, shallow pants. The anticipation burned through you, every nerve in your body attuned to him.

A loud thud echoed behind you, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you found Satoru on his knees, his striking blue eyes locked onto you with a dark, ravenous hunger. His fingers hooked into the band of your flimsy panties, tugging them aside with ease before his nose brushed against the sensitive heat of your core.

“Ah, fuck,” he exhaled, his voice thick with desire. “Yum.”

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver coursing through you, and then—oh god—his lips parted, his tongue swiping through your folds in a slow, deliberate stroke that made your knees tremble. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as he pulled you closer, his grip firm on your thighs.

“You smell so good,” he muttered against your slick skin, his words vibrating against your core. “Fuck—been thinking about this for the past two months— why’re you depriving me of this, wifey?”

Your face twists from anticipation, and moreover, irritation at how he seemed to always think he owned you. news flash, he does.

“you’re acting like—“ you gasp out breathlessly before—His mouth latched onto you, devouring like a man starved. The wet heat of his tongue worked expertly, tracing and teasing, alternating between languid strokes and eager, desperate sucks. Every movement sent shocks of pleasure crackling up your spine, your fingers clenching uselessly against the doorframe as your body melted into his touch.

“Satoru—” you gasped, hips jerking instinctively toward his mouth, craving more. He chuckled against you, the vibration making you whimper.

“So needy,” he murmured, his tongue flicking wickedly before he sucked your clit into his mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened as he buried himself deeper, his own groans mingling with the wet, obscene sounds filling the room.

Your legs shook, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach. He could feel it—he always knew. With one hand, he slipped two fingers inside you with ease, curling them just right, pressing into that spot that had you biting down on your lip to keep from crying out.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxed, voice thick with arrogance and lust. “Let me hear you.”

Your hands trembled against the doorframe, fingers pressing uselessly into the wood as a whimper slipped from your lips. Satoru’s pace was relentless—his tongue dragging through your folds, his fingers curling inside you with devastating precision. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, heat pooling low as he worked you over like he had all the time in the world.

“Look at you,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue. “Dripping all over me—fuck.”

You gasped as he pressed his palm flat against your lower stomach, holding you in place while he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against the swollen nub. The pleasure hit you like a wave, rolling through you in sharp, dizzying bursts.

“Satoru—I’m—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Go ahead. Come for me.”

And you did.

Your body seized, pleasure snapping through your core as your orgasm crashed over you, hard and unrelenting. Your knees buckled, and Satoru caught you effortlessly, keeping you steady as you trembled beneath his touch. He groaned as he licked you through it, his fingers stroking you lazily, coaxing out every last aftershock.

When you finally slumped against the doorframe, boneless and breathless, he pulled back, licking his lips like he was savoring the taste of you. His eyes, darkened with lust, raked over your trembling form.

��Goddamn,” he muttered, rising to his feet. He cupped your face, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You good?”

You nodded weakly, still floating in the haze of pleasure.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Think you can take more?”

Before you could answer, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around to face him. He kissed you—deep, filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hands wandered, fingers tracing the curve of your ass before giving it a firm squeeze and letting out a loooowww whistle.

The moment your silence stretched too long, Satoru knew he had you.

A slow, cocky smirk curled on his lips as he rolled his hips forward, pressing his hardness against your core, just to hear the way your breath caught in your throat.

"That's what I thought," he murmured, voice low, rough—wrecked.

His hands gripped your thighs tighter as he lifted you, pinning you between the door and his body, the heat of him searing straight through your clothes. You barely had a moment to gasp before his lips crashed against yours, desperate and bruising.

It was messy. Uncoordinated. More need than finesse.

Teeth clashed. Tongues tangled.

You wanted to hate him for how easily he unraveled you, how quickly he made you forget why you were supposed to be angry, but the way he groaned into your mouth, like he was starving for you, made it impossible.

"Fuck," he muttered, breaking away just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide. "I've been thinking about this all day."

His fingers found the waistband of your pants, yanking them down in a single, impatient motion, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare skin.

"God, baby," he groaned, voice shaking. "You have no fucking idea."

You swallowed hard, gripping at his shirt as he reached down, palming himself through his slacks. The outline of his cock was thick and heavy, and when he popped open the button and shoved his pants down, your mouth watered at the sight of it—hard, flushed red at the tip, pre-cum already leaking.

He gave himself a few strokes, his eyes locked onto your soaked cunt, before he pressed the blunt tip against your entrance.

"You’re already dripping," he murmured, smug. "Missed me that much, huh?"

You wanted to argue, to shove him back and wipe that cocky smirk off his face, but the second he pushed in, stretching you open inch by inch, your brain short-circuited.

"Shit," you gasped, head tipping back against the door.

Satoru grunted, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you in place as he bottomed out, his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

"Tight as ever," he hissed. "Like this pussy was fucking made for me."

You dug your nails into his shoulders, your walls clenching around him as he gave a sharp thrust.

"Shit—" His head dropped to your shoulder, his breath ragged. "You’re gonna kill me."

And then he started moving.

There was no build-up, no easing into it—just raw, desperate thrusts, his hips snapping against yours, his cock driving into you so deep it had you seeing stars.

Your moans filled the small bathroom, drowned out only by the muffled sounds of the restaurant beyond the door. The thrill of it—the risk, the absolute filth of being fucked up against a public bathroom door—only made it worse.

Satoru must have felt the same, because his grip on you turned bruising, his pace brutal.

"This what you wanted, huh?" he growled, lips brushing against your ear. "Wanted me to ruin you like this?"

You could only whimper in response, your legs tightening around his waist.

"You love it," he groaned. "Love letting me fuck you like this, even when you hate me."

His teeth found your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark before soothing it with his tongue.

"Fuck, baby," he panted, "I should keep you like this forever. Stuck on my cock, whining like a bitch in heat."

The filthiness of it sent heat rushing straight to your core, your walls fluttering around him, making him curse under his breath.

"That's it," he muttered. "Come on, baby, give it to me."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing harsh circles, and your body jerked at the sensation.

"Fuck—Satoru—"

"I know, baby," he gritted out. "Come for me. Come on my fucking cock."

The coil in your stomach snapped, and you came with a sharp cry, your walls clenching down so hard on him he nearly collapsed against you.

"Shit, shit, shit—"

His thrusts turned erratic, sloppy, his breath ragged against your skin as he chased his own release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—"

And then, with one last thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside you with a low, wrecked groan, his body shuddering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just panting, clinging to each other, the aftershocks still rippling through your bodies.

And then—

Reality crashed down.

His head dropped against your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

"Fuck," he murmured, voice hoarse.

You didn’t respond, still coming down from your high, your mind too fogged to process anything else.

But then he spoke again.

"You’re never leaving me."

Your breath hitched.

"You hear me?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his iridescent blue eyes burning.

"This—" He gestured vaguely, his chest still heaving. "Us. It’s never gonna stop."

You swallowed hard. "Satoru—"

"I don’t care how fucked up it is," he interrupted, voice cracking. "I don’t care if we tear each other apart." He sniffled, You swallowed, your throat tight. His words pressed against your skin, heavier than his body pinning you to the door.

"You can’t say that," you whispered, voice barely there.

Satoru’s gaze didn’t waver. He just looked at you, eyes burning with something you weren’t ready to name.

"I can," he murmured. "Because it’s true."

His fingers ghosted over your cheek, sliding down the column of your throat, pressing lightly—just enough for you to feel his touch, like he was mapping you all over again.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the way your body still ached for him, how every inch of you still burned from the way he took you.

"You don’t own me."

He exhaled shakily, his forehead pressing against yours.

"I know," he admitted, his voice a broken rasp. "But you still belong to me."

Your breath stuttered. "That’s not the same thing."

"Isn’t it?" he asked, his hands slipping down to your waist, holding you like you were something fragile. "Tell me, then. Tell me you don’t feel it, too."

You didn’t answer.

Because you did.

You felt it in the way his body curled over yours, in the way his breaths mingled with yours, in the way he held you—not with possession, but with something deeper. Something unshakable.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then another on your cheek, then lower, down to your jaw. He was shaking. His lips trembled against your skin.

"I thought about you every fucking day."

His confession poured into you like warm honey, thick and golden, coating every inch of your chest.

"I know you think this is just obsession," he continued, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. "That I’m selfish and I only want you because I can’t stand the idea of someone else having you. Maybe that’s true."

His hands slid up, wrapping around your wrists, pulling them down from where they’d been pressed defensively to his chest.

"But it’s more than that," he said, kissing your palm. "It always has been."

Your fingers curled slightly against his cheek, as if testing the weight of his words. "Then why do we keep ruining each other?"

He let out a breath, slow and quiet, like it hurt to say the truth out loud.

"Because I don't know how to love you without ruining myself, too."

Your heart clenched.

Satoru lifted his head, his gaze searching yours, his lips parting slightly before he said it.

"And you can’t leave me anyway."

You blinked. "What?"

His hands flexed at your sides, gripping tighter like he was afraid you’d disappear.

"Something’s already taken root inside you," he whispered, almost reverently. "You know it, don’t you?"

Your stomach flipped, your breath catching as something deep inside you—something instinctual, something unspoken—stirred at his words.

Because you did know.

It wasn’t just the way your body still felt like it belonged to him. It wasn’t just the way your heart raced whenever he was near.

It was something more. Something permanent.

Satoru swallowed, his thumb brushing over your lips, his voice raw, like he was barely holding himself together.

"Tell me I’m wrong."

You couldn’t.

His eyes darkened, something deep and knowing settling in them.

"That’s what I thought."

His hands found your hips, gripping them, his thumbs tracing slow circles.

"You’re never leaving," he murmured, softer this time, like a promise. "Not now. Not ever."

You shivered, your head dropping against his chest, your breath unsteady.

Because for the first time in all the years of back-and-forth, of fights and reconciliations, of leaving and coming back—

You believed him.

And maybe… maybe you didn’t want to leave anyway.

Satoru’s arms wound around you, holding you against him like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

His lips pressed against your temple, slow and lingering, and then—

"Marry me."

The words were quiet, barely louder than the sound of your own heartbeat.

Your body froze, rigid, like glass refusing to budge. Satoru only pulled you closer.

"We both know this is forever."

His hands skimmed your sides, like he was memorizing you all over again.

"So let’s stop pretending otherwise."

Your throat went dry.

Because as crazy as it sounded, as reckless and fucked-up as this love was—

Maybe, just maybe—

He was right.

Back to him, you guess. Forever this time.

FIN.

❤︎ ໋𓈒 a/n. hello loves, i was feeling very uninspired towards my long fic “All I Need” so im posting this. I’ll hopefully be back on track once i jot down my ideas for chapter five. I hope you enjoy this one-shot, based on B2b by charlixcx.

© All Rights Reserved mymoonisgrey

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 032 !

backstage at louis vuitton's fw25 show in paris, the usual chaos swirled around you, but you were oddly calm. makeup artists hustled to finish their work, hair stylists perfected last-minute details and the buzz of excited chatter filled the air. but you weren't really nervous. you'd been modeling for years and the nerves you once had when you first started out were long gone, replaced with a steady confidence that came from experience.

hyoma sat beside you, the two of you casually chatting as the last touches were put on your looks. it was nice to have a moment before the madness of the show started.

"did you hear about suki's bali trip?" hyoma asked, a playful glint in his eye as he adjusted his jacket, still looking at you from the corner of his eye.

you grinned, already knowing where this conversation was going. "yeah, duh. she's been talking about it non-stop lately."

"right?" hyoma chuckled. "i swear, she's packed already. but i get it. after everything with filming star girl, she deserves a break."

"true," you nodded, but something else was on your mind. "though, i'm starting to wonder if she's more excited about someone in bali than the trip itself."

hyoma raised an eyebrow, smirking. "what. you think she's got a thing for someone?"

you shrugged casually, but there was a hint of teasing in your voice. "i don't know.. michael kaiser's been making quite the impression on her. i think she might have a little crush on him."

hyoma burst out laughing. "you're kidding. suki? mitsuki hori? a crush? i've never seen her so distracted by a guy before."

"well, i mean, michael is michael kaiser," you pointed out, unable to suppress a smile. "and it's not like she's been shy about it. you know how she got all nervous at the premiere? it's kinda cute."

"ha, if she's really that down bad for him, i'm sure he's enjoying the attention," hyoma replied, leaning back. "but i can't blame her. he's not exactly hard to look at."

you both fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, just enjoying the rare pause before the madness of the runway show began.

you leaned back further in your chair, glancing at the makeup artist who was putting the finishing touches on your lips. this was all just another day for you. you were used to the rush, the flasing lights and the quiet moments before a show.

just as you were about to zone out, lost in the hum of the backstage chaos, a figure appeared in your peripheral vision. you didn't even need to look up to know who it was. lan.

"y/n," she said, her voice smooth and sweet as she approached you, the smile on her face just a little too perfect. "how's everything going? ready for the opening?"

you forced a smile, not wanting to let her under your skin. "i'm good. just getting the finishing touches done."

lan's eyes flickered over you, studying you with that sharp, almost calculating look that made your stomach twist a little. "you always look so... effortless. like you don’t even have to try." her words were coated with something you couldn’t place, a strange mix of admiration and something more hidden.

you raised an eyebrow, not sure if you were even supposed to take her compliment seriously. "thanks," you said, keeping your tone neutral.

lan's smile remained, but her eyes lingered on you a moment too long. you could feel her gaze weighing you, as if she were searching for something deeper than just a passing glance. she tilted her head slightly, as though thinking about her next words carefully.

“you know,” she began, her voice softer now, “it’s interesting how quickly you’ve risen to the top." she paused, letting the words settle between you before adding, "you're so lucky."

you didn’t reply immediately, choosing instead to focus on keeping your expression neutral. it was hard to tell if she was just making conversation or if there was something more to her words. either way, you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of overanalyzing it.

"well," you said after a beat, smiling lightly, "it’s just the way the industry works."

lan nodded, though her smile seemed just a bit too perfect. "of course," she paused again, and you could almost feel the weight of her thoughts, but she kept them to herself. instead, she gave you a small, almost playful wink. "i'm sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other at these shows. you’ll be great, as always."

you just offered her another polite smile, unsure of what to make of her odd niceness.

lan's lips curled into a smile. "well, i guess i'll leave you to it. don’t want to distract you too much," she said, her voice light, almost mocking. then, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving behind a faint sense of tension.

you exhaled slowly, trying to put it out of your mind, but it lingered in the back of your thoughts. it was probably nothing. lan was just being lan, right?

hyoma, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange, gave you a sidelong glance. his expression was unreadable, but there was a certain look in his eyes. “that was interesting,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly as he adjusted his jacket again.

you met his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "you think so?" you asked, keeping your tone light, even though a small part of you was still distracted by lan's confusing behavior.

hyoma just gave a small, amused shrug, his lips quirking upward. "yeah. she's always been a little strange with people, but that was different. don’t let it bother you, though."

you gave a tight smile. "i won’t. i’m used to weird interactions."

before hyoma could respond, a voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. "y/n, show’s about to start!" the director called out from across the room, a mix of urgency and excitement in his tone.

you nodded, turning toward the sound of her voice. “alright,” you replied, giving hyoma one last glance before heading off to the entrance of the runway.

the makeup artist finished the last touch on your lips, giving you a quick nod of approval. the final moments before a show always felt like a blur. a combination of nerves and adrenaline.

the manager walked up, giving you a once-over, checking that everything was perfect. "you're good to go," she said, her smile a mix of encouragement and professionalism. "it’s your time."

you took a deep breath, nodding, your thoughts briefly drifting to the familiar faces in the crowd.

“you go, girl,” hyoma called out as you passed by, his voice warm and supportive.

you shot him a smile, then turned toward the runway entrance, your heart racing with a quiet excitement. the show was starting, and this was your moment. the spotlight would be yours, and you were ready.

as the crowd’s chatter faded into the distance, the lights blazed on. the guests fell silent, all eyes drawn to the runway as you took your first step.

the music built up, guiding your pace as you walked, your eyes scanning the audience. there were faces you recognized, designers you’d worked with, photographers snapping shots as you passed.

their attention was a constant, but you'd learned to ignore it, to make the world beyond the runway blur into the background.

but then, you saw him.

a flash of red. a familiar silhouette sitting casually on the first row, his eyes locked on you. the breath in your lungs stilled for a second, your heart stumbling in your chest. there’s no way. your mind immediately tried to convince you it was just a trick. you were too distracted, maybe you were imagining things.

you focused on your walk, pretending like you didn’t feel the heat rising in your cheeks, pretending like his gaze wasn’t piercing through you with that intensity.

no, you were just losing it. it’s not like you were obsessed with him or anything. sure, there was that tension whenever you were near him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little too often in your thoughts lately. but this was nothing more than your brain playing tricks on you.

he was in madrid, practicing for the league, right?

it was probably another man with red hair. maybe you were just addicted to the way sae’s eyes seemed to burn through you, to the way he made everything feel just a little bit more intense when he was around.

by the time you reached the end of the runway, your head was spinning. you gave the crowd your final smile, a mask of confidence you had perfected over years of shows. you had to act like nothing had changed, like you weren’t thinking about sae.

the music shifted, signaling the end of your walk. with a practiced ease, you turned on your heel and walked the few steps back toward the backstage area, the cameras flashing as you went.

you walked through the curtain, breathing a little easier now. as you peeled off your shoes, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you pulled it out, seeing a new message from your manager.

nara: the show’s over, and someone’s waiting for you backstage. left side ;)

you paused, furrowing your brow. "someone's waiting for me?" you muttered. you hadn’t scheduled any post-show meetings, but maybe it was a surprise or a fan wanting a picture.

"everything alright?" hyoma’s voice broke your thoughts. you glanced up, meeting his eyes as he stood near you, clearly still buzzing from the show.

"yeah, just not sure who’s waiting for me," you answered, pocketing your phone and trying to mask your confusion. "it’s probably nothing."

"right," hyoma said, his tone light, though you could tell he was curious too. "well, good luck. but you were amazing out there, seriously. i think you just raised the bar for lv."

you smiled at his praise, appreciating the sincerity. "thanks, hyo. you too."

the backstage bustle continued, but your thoughts were somewhere else. someone’s waiting kept echoing in your mind, making your stomach twist slightly. you looked to the left, where the entrance to the private area was.

and just as you turned the corner to head in that direction, you were met with the bustling noise of staff and the familiar energy of models and designers. but no one stood waiting for you there.

you scanned the space again, but it was just the usual chaos. no one seemed out of place, no one had been expecting you.

you shrugged it off and headed toward your dressing area, still feeling a bit puzzled. maybe it was a miscommunication. or maybe your manager had something else planned for you that you weren’t aware of.

then, the moment you let the thought go and began unbuttoning your outfit, you felt a presence behind you.

a chill ran up your spine.

you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

sae.

you froze, heart thundering in your chest, your body instinctively reacting before your mind could catch up. you didn’t even have to turn around to know it was him; the familiar pull of his presence, the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, was all too much for you to ignore.

before you could stop yourself, your feet moved, and in one quick motion, you found yourself turning around and stepping into his arms, your hands wrapping around his waist almost desperately.

the moment you made contact, you realized what you had done.

you pulled away quickly, a flush creeping up your neck as your brain caught up to your instincts.

sae didn’t seem fazed. his arms remained loosely around you, a faint smile curling on his lips. he looked at you, his gaze soft. “guess i’m that irresistible, huh?” his voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an underlying warmth that made your chest tighten.

you cleared your throat, your hands still trembling a bit from the unexpected rush of emotions. “i didn’t mean to do that. it’s just-” you cut yourself off, realizing that whatever explanation you were going to give didn’t really matter. he was here now, and you were still caught in the web of his presence.

sae raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he were amused by your sudden fluster. “you always get so worked up, y/n.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to regain some semblance of control. “i'm not worked up,” you muttered, but the heat in your cheeks gave you away.

he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “you sure about that?”

the proximity made your stomach flip. his scent, the way he moved so effortlessly, it made everything inside you feel alive, but you hated how easily he could do that to you. you were supposed to be calm, collected, professional. yet every time he was near, it was as if the rules didn’t apply.

instead of responding, you took a step back, putting some distance between you, hoping the space would cool your racing pulse. "3hat are you even doing here? i thought you were in madrid for the league," you asked, trying to shift the focus away from your embarrassing moment.

sae shrugged, his expression still that casual, lazy smirk you were far too familiar with. “i'm already the best, no? also, i couldn't miss you opening the show. thought i'd make a surprise visit.” he leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving you. “and i missed you.”

his words hit you like a wave, the casual way he said it making your chest tighten. “you missed me?” you echoed, unable to hide the way your voice wavered slightly. your mind raced, trying to process how effortlessly he could make you feel like this.

sae’s smirk softened into something a little more genuine, a hint of warmth flickering in his eyes. “yeah. you know i don’t really like being away from you for too long.” his voice was still playful, but there was an underlying sincerity in it that you hadn’t expected.

you swallowed, unsure of how to respond to that. you hadn’t expected him to show up, and now, standing so close, everything felt like it was coming at you all at once. his presence, the tension, the way his words seemed to make everything else fade into the background. it was almost too much to handle in this moment, especially after everything that had happened between you two.

"how many girls did you tell that already?"

sae took a small step closer, his smirk still in place, but there was a shift in his eyes, more serious. he tilted his head, studying you, before speaking again, his voice low.

"i’ve only told you that," he said, his gaze locking with yours, as if to make sure you understood the weight of his words. "you're the only one that matters enough for me to say something like that."

the air between you two grew heavier, the tension thickening as his words hung in the space between you. you swallowed, not sure what to make of it, but there was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat.

"ugh, stop teasing," you said, trying to sound annoyed, but the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you.

sae chuckled, his eyes glinting with that familiar playful spark. "i'm not teasing, y/n. i’m being serious."

you rolled your eyes, but deep down, something inside you softened, even as you tried to hold onto your composure. "yeah, well, don’t get all serious on me now," you muttered, glancing away.

he grinned, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away. "are you done here? let's have a drink, or two."

"okay."

chapter 031 > here > chapter 033

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: hi this is rushed, sorry if its bad haha

taglist: @darling-dearesttt @saeslove @yuukiririix @sof888a @beepbopzlorp @luvrrin @narcjsistx @catukin @megumismyhusband @morgyyyyyyy @levihanmyotp @kaz-0e @nensi @vaelils @loverryxx @kunascutie @swagkittybear @alexiaray @kaidostwin @pookiei-bookie @syarc0re @vayahatesu @yangx2isawhore @pinkfqiry @treeguzzler @shumeow-h @modxbea @90s-belladonna @rory-cakes @sapph1r3x @yuiearyi @pctterheadd @thecallofmedusa @whisperofae @belovedfedya @anqelkoz @yukari1k @dontmindtheevie @pookalicious-hq @pan-kojiwa @spookysoowpprince @mivqko @chuuyalvover @viviinpt @h1sllvr @luvvmae @renchai @yourlocaleffy @x3nafix @saeglazer

[mangostarjam]

bragging rights: miya atsumu's route — haikyuu, street racer!au, atsumu x f!reader, "sweetheart" as a pet name, suggestive, part of ignition!verse, 2.2k words

You wince as the engine splutters and chokes. Miya Atsumu curses under his breath, hands scrabbling for the keys to turn it over once more, feet ready on the clutch and pedal. Only once the car is rumbling quietly again does he spare you a glance.

His ears are bright red.

"That was the second time now," you say. You give up on fighting back your grin. "Are you sure your brother didn't let you win?"

"H-hey, I won that race fair and square!" Atsumu says. He pauses for a moment, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth, and the car rolls into motion. "I just ain't used to such a pretty girl in my car."

City lights flicker and fade across his handsome features. Normally you'd feel embarrassed for staring so blatantly, but Atsumu seems to soak it up, puffing out his chest a little and shaking his hair out of his eyes. It would be obnoxious on anyone else, but after watching him stall his car because he got distracted looking at you, it registers as endearing more than anything. Still, you don't want him to get too much of a big head about it.

"Really? Does that line work for you?" you tilt your head curiously, body angled towards his as he guides the car through a few gear changes.

"Ain't a line," Atsumu grumbles. "I dunno what Aran-kun's told ya, but Kita-san would tell my ma if he caught me skirt chasing every weekend. And I hate makin' ma sad."

That's… kind of cute. The stubborn set of his lips makes you think it's the truth. "Okay," you say simply. Atsumu spares you a surprised glance. "Where are we going?"

The lights outside lose their frenetic firework bursts as Atsumu takes you through suburban neighborhoods. "I was gonna take you 'round to one of my favorite bars, but… I don't want this to be a one time thing."

Okay. That's… cute, too. You only accepted Aran's invitation to the car meet because you wanted some excitement from your dreary day to day salary woman life, so it was a pleasant surprise to find yourself on the receiving end of the Miya twins' attention. You can't deny that you'd be fine with a wild one night stand — a fun story to hint at to your female colleagues around the water cooler — but this… this is nice, too.

"You don't?"

He shakes his head firmly. "I've seen ya 'round Aran-kun's shop," Atsumu says. "I was workin' up the nerve to ask you out, but you were always so fast."

Heat floods your cheeks at the admission. "I visited him during my lunch breaks, so I never really had a lot of time," you explain. "But I never… saw you there?"

"That's 'cause you never went to the back room." He scratches at his cheek. Even in the dim glow of the interior lights on his radio, you spot a hint of pink on his skin. The volume is turned low, a background hum to the rumble of his car. "I'm glad ya came tonight."

"Me too," you admit easily, flashing him a smile. "So what's your plan to make this more than a one time thing? First step: win the race against your brother. Second step: profit?"

Atsumu laughs. "I'll make sure you profit, sweetheart. I wanna show ya one of my favorite places to go at night. It's a little ways up the mountain, though. Is that cool?"

"I'm ready," you nod. "I've been ready for anything since I got into your car."

"That's good," Atsumu grins. The way his lips quirk up in the corners makes him look boyish and charming, a stark difference to the way his shoulders fill out his fitted shirt. His car smells like an unholy mixture of peach from the blossom shaped air freshener dangling from his vent and the faint musk of sweaty gym clothes, though his car is otherwise pretty clean, if a little messy.

You continue watching him as he navigates up the windy mountain road. Atsumu tries to ignore your staring this time — but you can see his ears get redder and redder as moonlight flickers in beyond the trees. It's cute. You'll admit that openly. He runs his hands through his hair a few times and you're struck again by how soft the strands look in spite of the dye job, your thighs clenching together at the sudden, vivid image of tugging on those locks yourself.

Atsumu clears his throat. "You're gonna make it real hard for me, sweetheart," he says roughly. "If ya keep starin' at me like ya wanna eat me."

"I'm just admiring the view," you tease. Atsumu snorts and casts you a half lidded glance.

"Ya got a thing for blondes?" he asks.

"I've got a thing for you, maybe," you say, giggling when Atsumu's hand slips on the gear shift. "I'm glad you won the race. And I do like the color on you. Do you dye it yourself?"

"Nah," Atsumu shakes his head. "I usually get help from one of the guys. I can never tell if I got all the back strands, y'know?"

"That explains it," you murmur under your breath. Atsumu shoots you a raised eyebrow and you flash him a grin. No point in bringing up the concept of toner now. "Will you tell me why you like your favorite spot so much? I wanna know what to keep in mind when I see it."

Atsumu's fingers curl over the gear shift as he smoothly navigates a long curving turn. The car engine is a soothing rumble, a low vibration behind your knees. "It's beautiful," he says, shrugging when he glances at you and catches your eye. "And it's quiet. People usually go higher up the mountain for the bigger turnouts, but I like seein' the city a lil' closer. I know the streets 'round here like the back of my hand, and it's nice gettin' the bird's eye view."

"Quiet, huh?" You have a feeling he means nothing by it, but that doesn't stop you from thinking about the kinds of things you could get up to in a quiet, secluded area far away from prying eyes. It's late, far past midnight, and the mountain outlook is nestled in the kind of velvet moonlit darkness that holds secrets readily.

Atsumu pulls up to the guard rail and cuts the engine. It is a smaller turnout, one blink and you'd miss it, though it could probably fit another car if the drivers knew what they were doing. You can see the city spread out below, a mass of blinking lights and glow.

"Whaddaya think?" Atsumu sounds a touch nervous, but you don't need to lie to appease his feelings.

"It's gorgeous." And it really is. You can see the sparkle of the bay in the distance, the vast glimmering darkness of the ocean beyond.

Atsumu grins widely. "Gorgeous girl like you deserves gorgeous views."

You snort. "And how often has that line worked?"

"I've never tried it before," Atsumu says, still grinning. His ears are bright red and you want to reach over and tug, to trace your nail along the edges and feel how hot they are. "Think it's good enough to get me a kiss?"

You can't help but smile. "You get a kiss for the view, and that cheesy line gets you one touch. Use it wisely."

Atsumu unbuckles his seat belt and leans over immediately, hands coming up to cup your face. You shiver at the sudden warmth of his palms, leaning into him with a quiet sigh. The sound draws his gaze down towards your lips, and he cracks a shaky little laugh before surging forward for a kiss.

It's warm and soft and you nearly reach up to sink your fingers into his hair, but then his hand slips and you gasp and — HOOOOONK.

"Wha—! Whoa! Shit."

You blink dazedly in the abrupt silence as Atsumu pushes himself far away from his steering wheel, looking like he wants to melt into the soft leather seat. Your heartbeat — already ratcheted high from the kiss — kicks back into gear as you register what happened. "Smooth," you laugh.

"My bad," he grins sheepishly. "Good thing we're alone up here."

"I dunno, you probably woke up all the wildlife in the area. We'll have deer kicking at your door soon."

Atsumu gasps dramatically, eyes wide with pretend shock. "Noo, not my doors! It took us ages to get the paint just right!"

"Good to know you care more about your paint job than about getting us away from violent deer," you laugh. "It is a nice shade, though, so I guess you're justified."

"Oh, I'll kiss ya for that," Atsumu says, eyes twinkling in the reflected moonlight. "C'mere, sweetheart, I'll keep ya safe from the steering wheel."

He reaches over to unbuckle your seat belt and keeps it from whipping at you, his hands trembling as he sucks in a shaky breath. You watch as his hand hovers over your waist and then he plants it on the door behind you, leaning forward and tilting his head to brush a featherlight kiss along your neck.

Shaky — he's shaky — but you can see the flex of his arms as he balances over you, and something hot sears through your nerves at the easy way he moves his body, so self assured and confident in his own strength, combined with the confusing hesitation he has with every touch involving you.

He meets your furrowed brow with a lopsided grin. "I already used up my one touch," he explains diligently. Your mind flashes back to his palms warm against your cheeks and your stomach drops alarmingly.

Fuck. He's really, really cute.

"For following the rules you get two more —" is all you manage to get out, breathless and fond, before Atsumu's hand slides up your neck and cups the back of it, bringing you forward for another kiss.

You lose track of — everything — while he kisses you senseless, the world narrowing down to the soft way he gasps into your mouth as you swipe your tongue over his lips, the strangled noise that leaps from the back of his throat when you nip at his lip. You finally sink your fingers into his hair and it's just as soft as you thought, so you tug a little to hear him whimper and then you kiss him harder as a reward. It's easy, so easy to kiss him. You could make out with him for hours.

You lose track of everything, the world a simple blur of sensation. So it nearly makes you jump out of your seat when his other hand lands on your bare thigh, your skirt hiked up your legs with the way you're sitting and leaning towards him.

Atsumu squeezes the plush of your thighs and lets out another strangled noise. "Fuck, you're soft —" and then he jostles forward again, and — HONK!

"Augh!"

You wince as he slips and catches himself with a hand planted firmly on the door handle behind you. This close, you can see every speck of light in his wide eyes, the tiny bead of drool trailing along his chin.

"Are you sure you can protect me from the steering wheel?" you ask. "It looks like you can barely protect yourself."

"Yeah, you're right," he says, panting hard. You tense as he dips down to mouth at your neck, the sharp press of canines teasing your skin before he pulls back abruptly. "I'll just come to your side."

"You — what? 'Tsumu, wait!"

He unfolds himself from his seat and you blink at the sudden interior overhead lights coming on when he opens his door. Atsumu slams his door shut and rounds the front of his car quickly, barely giving you time to shift to face your door before he's there, crouching in your space, the chilly predawn breeze raising goosebumps along your skin.

"You called?" His grin is wide and pleased with himself. Annoying — but still. Endearing. You want to squish his stupid warm cheeks together. "I gotta admit, it sounds pretty good when you say it."

"What are you doing?" you hiss, tugging him closer to block out the breeze. Atsumu obliges easily, leaning over you to flick off the overhead lights. "What about the deer?"

"I can fight 'em off," he pauses and glances down at you, worry furrowing his brow for a split second, "I think."

"I'm not so sure about that," you tease, tugging at his shirt to draw him closer. His breaths puff against your lips as you grin. "Have you ever seen a sleep deprived deer?"

"Maybe I should hit the horn a few more times to scare 'em off," Atsumu muses absently. His eyes flutter shut as you cross the meager distance between you to kiss him. "Or — mm — maybe if I've got ya scream — screamin' my name, that'll do the — ah — trick?"

You sink your hands into his hair and hum. The strands are so soft and silky between your fingers you make a mental note to ask about his shampoo and conditioner regimen. "Is this the part where I profit?"

Atsumu's grin is a bright flash in the moonlight. "Ya better hold on to me, sweetheart. We're gonna piss off all the deer on this mountain."

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: popular!hockey player!anakin x nerd!reader

FLUFF ❦

You are going to kill him. Starting with his hands, then his stupidly-handsome face and this insufferable grin. The rest is just a matter of your anger and frustration. Why? Because ANAKIN SKYWALKER had been playing with you for weeks, claiming you as his new victim. Stealing your food, stealing your things, stealing your time, and probably - definitely - stealing kisses from you..

"You," you seethed, pointing an accusative finger at him, eyes narrowing at the thick novel he twirled lazily between his long-too-tempting fingers. "Give. It. Back."

Anakin's eyes snapped the moment he heard your voice, setting them right on your face. With that, he let his lips curl into this grin you found insufferable (let's highlight that) and hot. In all his cocky, utterly beautiful glory, he had the nerve to lean back in his chair, stretch his long legs out, before spreading them, and flipping through pages like he had all the time in the world.

"Mm," he hummed, pretending to skim a sentence. "Y’know, sunshine" he clicked his tongue "This is pretty interesting stuff. Who knew you were into—" he glanced at the cover, lips curling, "—grumpy historical philosophers?"

"You wouldn’t understand," you muttered, reaching for it— or just trying to, because he yanked it away at the last second, holding it just out of your reach.

Maker, you hated him. Despised him. (Did not, under any circumstances, thought about him at night, or in class, or in very specific daydreams that made your lower stomach do things.)

"Alright," he mused, tapping his chin. "I'll give them back… but only if you give me a kiss."

You blinked. "A what."

"A kiss," he repeated, completely unfazed, as if the request was normal..to him, of course. "Right here." He tapped his lips, smirking like he knew it would drive you crazy. "C’mon, sunshine, it's a fair trade."

Your face burned. Eyes deeply, shockingly gazed into his "Anakin, I swear to the Maker—"

"Ohhh, she’s threatening me now," he teased, blue eyes twinkling. He had the time of his life.. "What are you gonna do, huh? Report me?"

"Yes!"

"To who?" He laughed, tilting his head. "Mr. Kenobi? Because I just saw him leave for his lunch break. You could wait until he’s back, but…" He sighed dramatically, pressing his lips in fake-dissapointed, thin line "I don't think you have time, sweetheart."

You groaned, ready to throw the biggest tantrum right there in the hallway. Or throw the nearest chair at him, again, you weren't sure "You’re insufferable!"

"And yet, I think you still love me."

"No, I don’t."

"Liar."

You glared at him so hard, with such anger, hatred (not really), pure irritation at every cell in his body that decided to play with you, to tease you, to make your little comfortable world burn to the heels with madness. Yet, the problem was—Anakin wasn’t fazed at all. No, instead, his gaze softened, and his voice dropped into something more gentle, more reverent.

"You are so beautiful when you're mad, you know that?" he murmured, smirk fading into something softer, something fond, something that made your face burn as if it was on fire.

Because Anakin always did this. He always worshiped you, even in the most ridiculous moments, like he couldn't help but be absolutely, completely smitten by whatever you were doing. And it was weird, to be honest. After all, who were you, really? Just a nerdy girl with glasses, who spent most of her time reading books and playing games for kids...while, Anakin Skywalker, was the breathing perfection of this school. Talented hockey player, too handsome face, deep voice, A-student that didn't even learn (he had his ways)..every girl drooled on him, and yet, you were the one he chose..

"...Fine," you muttered, heat creeping up your neck.

"Fine what?"

"Fine I'll kiss you!" Anakin barely had time to process your angry response further before you grabbed his face and pressed the quickest, most barely-there kiss to his lips—just enough to make his breath hitch, to leave him stunned, to hopefully make him give your stuff back

When you finally pulled away, he blinked, looking shamelessly dazed. And that's to the God above, your book—once held hostage—was shoved back into your arms.

"...Damn," Anakin muttered, dreamingly gazing at your face "Should’ve asked for two."

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him. You did not want to be near Anakin Skywalker ever again...for today..at least for this hour.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

[jungkookfmv20]

Chapter 4: Doll

Summary

As a hardworking trainee, you’ve spent years pushing yourself to debut. When the final evaluation comes, you’re chosen as the sole candidate—but what you don’t realize is that your fate was already sealed. BTS, the seven men you idolized, manipulated everything to make sure you were theirs.

At first, their attention feels like a blessing to aid you as a trainee. Then, it becomes suffocating. Their possessiveness turns them against each other, each one willing to destroy the others just to have you alone.

⚠️ Content Warnings: ⚠️

Intense competition & high pressure, Verbal & emotional manipulation, Psychological stress & anxiety, Favoritism & corruption, Strong language, smut, y/n is 18+, drugging

This was the first day of your real work, so Namjoon accompanied you to your first concept photoshoot for your debut album. He claimed he needed a break from the others, but you suspected he also wanted to help guide you through the process to which you were grateful. You really admired Namjoon, his leadership and respect for other people was something you wanted to emulate. For all intents and purposes, Namjoon was your role model.

The studio was a whirlwind of activity—stylists adjusting outfits, makeup artists perfecting every detail, photographers setting up their shots. You were placed in white stockings, white mary janes,  a pale blue skirt and an elaborate white blouse. 

"Do you like your outfit doll?" Namjoon said as he smiled down at you. 

"Of course", you said as you smiled back up at him. 

Namjoon had helped pick out the outfit with the stylists, he insisted on it since he didn't want to "sit around and do nothing".

Your outfit really complemented the theme of your concept, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, the weight of the moment hit you.

Namjoon stood behind you, tenderly meeting your gaze in the reflection. “You ready?” he asked, his voice steady, reassuring.

You nodded, exhaling a slow breath. “Yeah.”

Throughout the shoot, Namjoon stayed close. Too close for the photographers' liking sometimes, although you were grateful. He offered quiet encouragement when you felt overwhelmed. He guided you through poses, helping you relax under the flashing lights.

“You’re doing great,” he murmured as the photographer reset the scene. “Just own it, you're so beautiful anything will look good."

You blushed as he said this, and at the same time the photographer clicked his camera rapidly, clearly satisfied with your expression.

Something about Namjoon's confidence in you settled your nerves, and as the shoot progressed, you found yourself loosening up, embracing the role they- and he- envisioned for you. By the time it ended, exhaustion weighed on you, but so did a sense of accomplishment.

As you walked out of the studio, Namjoon glanced at you with a small smile. “I'm so proud of you,” he said, hand ruffling your hair.

And somehow, those words meant everything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the shoot, Namjoon led you to his studio, a private space that he rarely let anyone other than the members enter. Your steps faltered and pulse quickened as he walked you down the hallways of Hybe as Namjoon placed his hand on your lower back to guide you gently. 

“Feel special,” he teased. “Not everyone gets to be like this with me."

you watched the questioning looks from the staff, as male and female idols rarely shared company alone, let alone touched each other, mentor or not. 

Although, you felt a strange warmth at his words. You couldn't help but feel protected by this man as he led you down the halls, an ultra successful and powerful man.

You ended up outside his studio, the silence of the private area giving you release from your hectic day. Curiosity made you flicker your gaze down the hallway, eyes catching the sign* Genius Lab* about ten meters down. 

"Is that Yoongi's studio down there?" you asked. 

"Why, would you rather do this with him?"

Namjoon's sly quip made you snap your eyes to his, looking up as he hovered slightly behind you. The look in his eyes was unlike anything you had seen before, but quickly disappeared as he smiled slightly and shook his head. 

"Let’s focus on your album okay? I'm a Grammy nominated writer, you know?", he says as he smirks lightly.   

You decide to ignore Namjoon's odd behaviour as you chalked it up to you being overly analytical. 

As Namjoon pushes open the door and he invites you inside, your jaw drops in amazement. So this is where all of those award winning songs were made. This was your future, this was what you had worked for. 

Awards lined the shelves, instruments hanging from walls and artwork placed sporadically. 

"Alright, let's get down to it. Let's make your debut something people just can't ignore."

And so you did. 

Namjoon guided you through the songwriting process, helping you craft lyrics that felt authentic. Just like your concept photos, you decided to play off of your cute and innocent appearance. You never would've thought that Namjoon would be so well suited in this style of writing, but then again there was nothing he didn’t suit really. The process was long, tiring, but you found a way to distract yourself. Other than occasionally drinking the tea that Namjoon made you, sometimes you would catch yourself looking at his hands, only now did you realize how beautiful they were as he wrote down ideas. His voice hummed through your head, soothing yet masculine and guiding. It wasn't until you felt a hand on your right thigh that you realized you had drifted asleep.

"Doll are you alright? Oh don't worry, you’re just tired,  it's getting quite late." 

You grogley opened your eyes and looked at the clock perched above his desk. 11:00pm. You had been up since 5:00am, no wonder you were tired. 

Namjoon's hands continued to rub soft circles on your thigh as you woke up a bit more. Not causing any concern for you as you were still in a half asleep like state. Come to think of it, you weren't really coming out of this half-asleep state. 

You tried to sit up off of the couch you realized you had somehow been placed on as Namjoon's body loomed over your's. 

"Shhh don't worry doll. I'll take care of you. You did so well writing your first song, it'll do so well. I'm sure everyone will love your photos too, you look so cute and adorable in them, I really liked your blue skirt hmm."

You felt his hand roam the expanse of your soft thigh more, your mind cutting in and out as you tried to fight against sleep. 

"Namjoon what is happening I don't feel too good, I'm so tired. Can you take me home?"

"Sure baby, don't worry, I've got you", he murmured as he caressed your face softy.

I'll always have you. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He didn't plan for her to look so adorable in that blue skirt. 

He didn't plan to be with her that late. 

And he didn't plan on slipping that sedative in her tea. 

Now Namjoon was always a man of logic and honour, there was a reason for why he was the leader of BTS. Charismatic, intelligent, all qualities that the public knew him for. So, he wasn't sure how this young trainee had made him disregard all of those qualities. 

Something about how she blushed during the photoshoot, wearing that too short skirt and showing those pure eyes made him snap. She was beautiful and naive, and that made him want to be the one to ruin her rather than have the industry do it for him. 

As Namjoon saw her trying to think of lyrics to put down, he also saw how nervous she was when she tried to speak. How she couldn't quite articulate her thoughts properly in front of such a versed lyricist. And it made him crazy. Why? He didn't know. But really, he didn't care to find out right now. Not as he stared at her, knocked out on his couch making tiny breaths from her slightly open mouth. 

He was fucked. And sadly not exactly in the way he wanted to be. 

As she laid there, Namjoon had two choices. Take her home like he said he would, or do what he really wanted to do before any of the other members could. 

He wasn't stupid. 

He saw the looks that Yoongi and Jungkook gave her, how they have already claimed her in their minds. How Yoongi wanted her so badly to begin with, how Jungkook wanted to tear Jin apart when he saw them together.

So here he was. He would always be number one, the leader and backbone of their brotherhood and band. All those awards, all that success, that was his. He made it for them. So it was only fair that she was his too. 

Namjoon's hand traveled slightly higher on her thigh as he took a shaky inhale. So soft, so plush. His hand stopped as it reached just beneath her skirt. 

He couldn't. 

But he wanted to so badly. 

He lightly tugged her skirt down, picking up her hips with ease to glide it over.  At the sight of her pale pink cotton panties he suddenly became aware of his growing erection.  He quickly unbuttoned her shirt revealing a pale pink bralette. 

His baby wore a matching set just for him didn't she. 

At this thought, Namjoon couldn't help but slip his erection out of his pants as his eyes took in her half naked form. He sat back in his desk chair, spitting on his hand and stroking his cock. His mouth fell slack when she made a tiny sound and he imagined it wasn't his hand but her’s, no longer able to control himself. Animalistic sounds left Namjoon's mouth as he came on her stomach, cum painting her soft skin with a heaving chest.

What a cute doll.

[itsnesss]

can you write me a sub axel smut?? maybe all the dojos bond at the hotel & play 7 minutes in heavens and then axel & reader get paired and reader gives him a handjob?

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | the night before the tournament, tension fills the air as you and axel are paired for a game of "7 minutes in heaven." in the privacy of the bathroom, the tension between you two grows

warnings | sexual tension, smut, explicit content, power dynamics, dom!reader, sub!axel, handjob

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The night before the tournament, the tension was in the air. All the dojos were ready for the showdown, but they knew they needed to relax a bit before the big competition. The hour was late, almost midnight, and each sensei had made their rounds through the dorms to make sure their students were asleep. However, everyone knew that, in reality, they weren’t. They had all pretended to be asleep, waiting for the moment when the door closed after the last round of checks to gather in secret.

Through dark hallways and with knowing smiles, members from different dojos gathered in one of the competitors' rooms. It was a quiet and private place, where laughter and jokes filled the air. Around some cold drinks and with soft music playing in the background, the atmosphere was filled with a relaxed, carefree energy. That night wasn’t just about relaxing tense muscles, but about enjoying each other's company before the battle that awaited them the next day.

Conversations were light, the tension of the competition disappeared for a while, and jokes flowed easily. But amid the laughter, everyone knew this night wasn’t just for unwinding. There was a game some already knew about, a game that would test not only their skills but also their nerves.

"7 minutes in heaven," someone whispered softly, and laughter erupted around the room. It was a tradition in some dojos, though for some, the game was a way to break the ice. For others, it was an opportunity to make things a little more interesting.

At first, it seemed like an innocent idea, but as the night went on, smiles began to turn more nervous, and gazes grew more intense. And you knew something different was going to happen when Axel was paired with you.

You had noticed him throughout the night, though unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. There was something in his demeanor that kept you intrigued. He was so confident, so calm, yet there was an underlying layer you couldn’t decipher. Every time your eyes met his, something stirred inside you, and you quickly looked away, as if trying to hide what you were feeling. But inside, you wondered if he had noticed it too.

Finally, the moment arrived. Axel and you were called to enter the bathroom, a small space where the rest of the participants watched with knowing smiles. The door closed behind you, and the atmosphere inside became even more intimate. Axel didn’t say a word. Instead of coming closer to you or making a move, he went to a corner of the bathroom and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as if he was completely in control.

You stood there, frozen, watching him for a moment, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t just the closeness that confused you, but the tension that seemed to hang in the air. Did he feel it too? You couldn’t read him, he looked so calm, so sure of himself, as always. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop wondering if this was really what you wanted. If, in the middle of the competition, this was the moment to take that step, or if you were just confused.

"We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to," you finally said, breaking the silence. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, especially with everyone watching.

Axel looked at you for a second, but didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, watching you, his eyes locking with yours. The tension between you both seemed to grow, and you started to wonder if you really couldn’t keep that distance between you two. Silently, you realized that words were no longer necessary. There was something in the air, something you both knew but didn’t dare to address.

"You know..." you began, trying to break the silence. "I never thought I’d end up here, with all of you. It’s weird, right? We’re all so different, but in the end, we’re all here, preparing for what’s to come."

It was one of those things you said when you didn’t know what else to say, something silly to break the ice. However, Axel didn’t seem to be looking for words, and somehow, that put you at ease. He was waiting for something else. Something that couldn’t be explained with words.

And suddenly, without warning, Axel took a step toward you.

Before you could react, Axel reached out, touching you gently but with a firmness that surprised you. And without another word, he kissed you. At first, it was a soft kiss, almost shy, a touch of lips that seemed to say more than any words could. The world around you disappeared in that instant, and for a moment, all that mattered was that connection, that spark that had been growing between you two since you first noticed him.

The kiss deepened little by little, and although you were completely surprised at first, you couldn’t help but reciprocate. All the noise and laughter from outside the bathroom faded away, and all that remained was the sound of his breath, the brushing of lips, and the sensation of the connection between you two.

The connection was intense from the beginning, but the kiss began to be more passionate, more demanding. His mouth moved closer to yours, his lips pressing against yours with a demand that surprised you, but one you couldn't resist. And it was then, in that moment, that you realized how Axel felt. You could feel his need, his desire, and the tension between the two of you grew in an instant.

You had to stop the kiss when it felt too intense, but Axel didn't seem to want to stop. However, before you could say anything, he pulled away from you, without taking his eyes off yours. For a second, it seemed like they were going to kiss again, but they just stood there, looking at each other, the air filled with a sexual tension they both could feel.

After a moment of silence, Axel took your hand.

"Do you want more?" you dared to ask

And although it seemed silly after what had just happened, you didn't really know what was going on. Maybe all of this was just a game, or maybe something more.

But Axel just smiled and kissed you again. This time, the kiss was softer, more tranquil. It was as if the kiss had been the most intense part, and now they were in the prelude to something more important.

"I want more," he whispered without thinking, and you kissed him again.

One of your hands traveled from his chest to the hem of his sweatpants, and you felt the pressure of his erection. Axel moaned softly, and his hands slid down to your legs, as if searching for something deeper. And although the clothes made it difficult, you didn't want to stop now. No, not after the tension had built up so much that you didn't know what to do. All you knew was that you wanted more.

While you were kissing him again, you tried to slip your hands under his pants. Axel moved back a little, giving you space. You watched him as he lowered his pants, his eyes shining with desire and his lips red, as if they had been kissed for hours. And after a few seconds of silence, which seemed longer than they actually were, Axel lowered his boxer shorts.

Axel approached you again, and this time there was no space between you. His fingers brushed your cheeks, and he gave you a kiss softer than the others. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed at that moment.

You took his member with one hand, trying not to seem nervous. All of this was a bit faster than you had expected, but at the same time, it was something you had always wanted.

You began to masturbate him slowly, as if you didn't want to scare him. Axel moaned silently, as if that was what he had been waiting for. And as you continued moving your fingers, you began to brush your fingers over his glans, trying to feel his reaction. Axel gasped with a soft moan, his fingers caressing your skin, but you didn't stop. All you wanted was to feel his body tense and release his orgasm in your hands. You wanted to see him lose his mind, see the passion in his eyes, and feel his body contract as he ejaculated.

"Do you like it?" You asked, smiling, you loved having him before you, surrendered. "Ask for more"

"M...more" Axel said almost in a whisper, "Please."

"Good boy"

You couldn't stop, you couldn't wait any longer. You were too eager to feel his orgasm, to see what happened when a man who seemed so confident crumbled in your arms. So you masturbated him a little faster, moving your fingers up and down in a circular motion, and Axel gasped, his breathing becoming more intense. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and in a second, his body began to convulse. And even though you knew he was on the verge of orgasm, you kept masturbating him a little faster.

And just like that, without any warning. Axel collapsed in your arms, his orgasm covering your fingers. It was what you had been waiting for. What you had imagined for so long. The passion, the pleasure, the release. Axel was panting non-stop, his eyes closed, his body trembling with pleasure. And although his orgasm didn't last long, it seemed longer than it actually was. It was as if the world around you had stopped, and there was only a connection between the two of you.

Finally, after a moment that seemed infinite, Axel opened his eyes and looked at you. His gaze was intense, but there was nothing else in it. There was no shame, there was no guilt, there was no remorse.

"That was incredible," Axel whispered, as if it were difficult for him to pronounce the words.

You didn't need to respond, you just smiled. But you didn't just smile because you were happy to see that Axel felt good; you smiled because you knew this wasn't just a part of the game. It was something more. That only made you want more. You wanted to continue, you wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel his body against yours. And you didn't know why, but it seemed as if fate had wanted this to happen. As if everything you had lived had led to this moment. And, you knew you couldn't stop here.

So you smiled a little more, and Axel looked at you as if he knew something you didn't.

"Do you want to continue?" Axel asked after a second of silence.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the bathroom door, making both of them jump in place. "You've been in there for a while now!" shouted a voice you recognized as Miguel's, who was probably betting with the other Miyagi-Do guys. You couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Axel pulled slightly away from you, looking at the door with a somewhat amused but at the same time slightly annoyed expression.

"How's it going, did you conquer the bathroom?" joked Miguel from outside.

"Shut up!" you replied, with an almost playful smile. Upon hearing the laughter of others on the other side of the door, the atmosphere changed slightly.

When Axel looked at you again, with a slight smile, you smiled back, without needing to say anything more. The tension was still there, but now it was different. Much more intense, but also much closer.

Outside, the Miyagi-Do kids and the rest of the dojos kept joking around, unaware of what had happened in the bathroom. However, you knew that something had changed between you and Axel, something you couldn't ignore. And although the battle the next day was the most important thing, something in the air told you that what had happened that night would endure long beyond the tournament.

[insidekatmind]

Hate?~Berlin (Song jung- ho)

Wearning: +18,smut,tension.

Request: yes!

You are Spain, a former elite thief with a talent for impossible locks and a razor-sharp tongue. The Professor recruited you for the heist of the century at the Korean Mint, and from the first moment you knew there was a problem: Berlin.

He, with his contemptuous smile and his ostentatious elegance, made you want to throw the first thing you could reach at him. He, with his mellifluous voice and his superior gaze, seemed to enjoy always finding your raw nerve.

"Look who deigned to show up. Our Spain, always with that fallen queen's stride." Berlin says, provoking you.

"And you always with that cheap aristocratic air, Berlin." You say, snorting.

It was a constant back and forth. He provoked you, you responded in kind. During meetings, during guard duty, even when the rest of the gang was trying to maintain a modicum of professionalism. Yet beneath all that venom, there was something more.

The glances you exchanged were not just defiant. The tension between you was a tight wire ready to snap. One night, during an inspection at the mint, you were alone. He looked at you, his lips curled into that hateful smile.

"You know, Spain… I wonder if hating me turns you on as much as it does me." Berlin whispers.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. But when you passed by him, you barely touched his arm, enough for him to know that the game wasn't over yet.He grabbed your wrist, pulling you close to him.

"You're not as subtle as you think, darling," he grinned.

His grip was firm, but not painful. It was a gesture that said 'I can control you if I want.' In any other circumstance, it would have only made you angrier. But there was something about his proximity, the scent of his cologne and the heat of his body against yours that made your heart race.

“Stop acting like an asshole,” you whisper.

He chuckled, tilting your face up to look at him.

"But I'm so good at being an ass," he smirked.

His grip on your wrist loosened, his forefinger tracing the line of your jaw. His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you despite the tension between you.

"You're so tense, darling. I wonder why that is," he continued, his voice low and smooth.

His eyes roamed over your face, studying every little expression. He knew exactly how he was affecting you, and he was reveling in it.

You look at him from head to toe, he was attractive you couldn't lie and the fact that he was an arrogant asshole made him even more attractive. He noticed the way you were looking at him, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer. His touch was confident, possessive.

"No, not even a little bit." You muttered, looking at him as if you wanted to eat him. His smirk widened at your denial, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Oh, really? Then why are you so close to me?" he inquired, enjoying your denial. His hand moved from your waist to your back, his fingers tracing circles on your spine, his touch making you shiver.

“I hate you so much” You whispered as you moved closer to him. He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath.

"And I hate you too," he murmured, his words a contradiction to the way his hand was still roaming your back, his touch anything but hateful.

He was playing the game, teasing you with his words while his body betrayed the truth.

You wanted to pull away, to break free from his grip, but you couldn't. Your body was betraying you, reacting to his proximity like it was a drug. His gaze held yours captive, those dark eyes filled with a dangerous mix of arrogance and desire.The tension between you was palatable as you two stood there, mere inches apart. You could feel his heart beating fast against your chest, the rhythm matching your own. He moved even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

"I wonder what would happen if I kissed you right now," he whispered, teasing you further.

Your breath hitched, your mind racing at the thought. His lips were so close, so inviting. But you couldn't give in to the desire, not yet. You tried to steady your voice, to keep the venom in your words.

"I'd probably knee you in the groin," you replied, half-serious.He laughed, a sound that was both charming and infuriating.

"Oh, I have no doubt your first instinct would be violence," he said, his tone amused. "But then again, I do love a challenge."

His hand moved from your back to your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, tilting your head back just enough to expose your throat.

His lips grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, his touch barely there, yet it sent electric currents through your entire body. A soft gasp escaped your lips, a sound you couldn't hold back. He chuckled, enjoying the effect he had on you.

"Oh, I knew it," he murmured, his breath hot on your skin. "You can pretend to hate me all you want, but your body betrays your true feelings.""I do hate you," you protested weakly, finding it hard to think straight with his lips on your neck.

He nipped at your pulse point, his teeth grazing your skin, just hard enough to make you shiver.

"That's what you say, but your little gasps say something else," he teased, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

His thumb traced your lower lip, his gaze fixed on your face.

"You know, darling, I find your denial so adorable," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But I wonder how far I can push until that wall of yours collapses completely."You look at him longingly as he touches your lip, you were trying so hard not to suck his thumb.

He could see the struggle in your eyes, the way you were fighting against the desire that was clearly etched on your face. He pressed his thumb against your lip, demanding entrance.

"One way or another," he said, his tone lowering to a sinful growl, "I'll break through that stubborn resistance of yours."

You suck his thumb and closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of his finger in your mouth. His breath hitched at the sudden sensation of your mouth on his thumb, his grip on you tightening.

"Oh, darling, what a talented mouth you have," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

He pushed his thumb in deeper, your tongue swirling around it of its own accord. His eyes darkened, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips.He removed his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his index finger, tracing the line of your lower lip.

"You taste even sweeter than I imagined," he purred, his gaze locked on your mouth.

He suddenly backed you against a nearby wall, trapping you between the cold surface and the heat of his body.

His leg slotted between yours, pinning you in place. His chest was pressed flush against yours, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes. His hand was back in your hair, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes were burning with desire, but there was something else there too. Something almost possessive.He leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

"I have to admit, I admire your stubbornness," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "But it's also driving me insane."

He pressed his body even closer to yours, the hardness of his arousal evident through his robber suit . He moved his leg slightly, applying just enough pressure to draw a soft moan from your lips.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he continued, his hand roaming down your sides, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "This constant battle between us, it's maddening. And yet, I can't get enough of it."

He bit your earlobe, his teeth grazing your skin, before his lips moved to your jawline, leaving a trail of light kisses.

“I hate you so much,” you mutter between moans.

"That's not what your body is telling me," he replied, his lips now on your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, nipping gently, his breath hot and heavy against your ear.

"You can deny it all you want, darling, but we both know the truth."

His hand moved underneath your robber's suit unbuttoned, his fingers tracing the edge of your bra.

You look at him longingly and bring your shaking hands to his face and kiss him. He let out a soft groan as your lips met his, the contact sending a surge of desire through his body. For a moment, the tension between you melted away, replaced by a need that was almost primal.

His hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a possessive fervor. He pulled you closer, pinning you against the wall with his body, his tongue seeking entry to your mouth. The kiss was greedy, hungry, both of you desperate for more.

"Finally," he grated as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you."

He pressed his body even closer, his hips grinding against yours, the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh. He captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours.

You moaned into the kiss and clung to him, pulling his hair. He let out a guttural growl, his hands roaming your body, claiming every inch he could touch. His teeth nipped at your neck, his tongue soothing the sting. He moved down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of hot kisses on your skin.

"You drive me insane," he repeated, his voice rough. "And I'm going to make sure you can't deny it any longer."

His hand gripped your hip, pressing you even harder against him. You could feel his growing need, his body trembling with desire.

"Look what you do to me," he murmured against your skin, his hand moving down to your thigh, pushing up the fabric of your robber's suit. His thumb traced circles on the sensitive skin, teasing and exploring.

His kisses became more urgent, his teeth nipping harder at your flesh. He was driving you wild, his touch both gentle and possessive. His fingers toyed with the edge of your bra, teasing but never crossing the line.

"I want you," he groaned, his voice low and dark. "I want you so badly it hurts."You try to undress him with your hands shaking with desire.

He chuckled softly, his lips moving to your ear.

"Eager, are we?" he teased.

He took your hands, stilling their trembling, holding them against his chest. His heart was pounding, its rhythm matching the wild beat of your own.

"Patience, darling," he murmured, his voice soft but commanding. "I intend to savor this moment."

He slowly undid the buttons of his robber's suit, his gaze never leaving your face. With every button, more of his chest was revealed, the smooth expanse of muscle and tanned skin making your mouth water. His eyes tracked your reaction, his smirk growing wider as your desire became even more evident."You like what you see, darling?" he asked, his voice now a purred challenge.

He let his suit fall to the ground, leaving him in nothing but boxer briefs that left little to your imagination. His body was like a work of art, sculpted and toned, the muscles of his abdomen rippling with subtle power.

You moaned and brought your hand to his boxer and you touch it His breath hitched as your hand made contact with the thin fabric, a groan escaping his lips. He captured your wrist, pulling your hand away from him with a smirk.

"Not so fast," he teased, his voice low and gravelly. "You forget who's in charge here, darling."His hand moved to your hair, tugging gently. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"And I plan on taking my time with you," he whispered, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

He guided you to a nearby table, backing you against it. His hands roamed over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive.

"I've been dreaming about this moment," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your throat.

His fingers traced the line of your bra once again, this time lingering at the clasp.

"I've been imagining your moans, the way you'll feel when I touch you..."His hand moved to the strap of your bra, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His lips grazed the exposed skin, his tongue darting out to taste your flesh.

"Every stolen glance, every taunting word, it's all been leading to this."

He flicked his fingers against the fastening of your bra, the sound of the clasp releasing like music to his ears. He withdrew your bra, the fabric sliding over your heated skin, leaving you bare before him.He took a step back, his gaze roving over your body. He looked at you like you were an exquisite piece of art, his eyes drinking in every inch of your body.

"You are even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.

He stepped forward again, trapping you against the table with his body. His hands roamed over your bare chest, fingertips tracing patterns on your skin.

"And I plan on worshipping every inch of this body," he continued, his lips brushing against your collarbone.He moved upwards, his lips blazing a trail of kisses up your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving marks that would surely bloom into bruises come tomorrow. You were writhing beneath him, helpless to resist the onslaught of sensation he was igniting within you.Berlin kissed all over your body until he reached your panties and took them off. "Look at you, so desperate to get fucked by the person you hate" Berlin whispered.

He was right. Despite your words and actions, your body was betraying you. You hated him, but your body couldn't help responding to his touch. You were so desperate for him, so needy, that all your defenses had crumbled, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

"You're... a jerk..." you managed to gasp out, your breath ragged with desire.He chuckled, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh.

"Maybe I am," he admitted. "But I'm the jerk you can't resist."

He ran his fingertips over your sensitive skin, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

"You can deny it all you want, darling, but your body betrays your true feelings."You bit your lip to suppress a moan, your hips involuntarily lifting towards his touch. This was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so good. His hands were like magic, coaxing pleasure from you with every touch.

He adds two fingers inside you making you moan. He chuckled, a low, sinister sound that sent shivers down your skin.You were helpless beneath him, a slave to the pleasure he was giving you. You didn't know how you'd let it get to this point, how the man you had hated for months could be the one to reduce you to this quivering mess. But you couldn't think straight anymore, your mind clouded with desire and need."So good" you groan.

He smirked, his fingers working you expertly.

"You like that, darling?" he asked, his voice laced with arrogance.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he was enjoying every second of it.You couldn't think, you just groaned in response. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending sparking with pleasure. His touch was both soft and rough, leaving you dizzy and weak."Yes,so bad" you groan.

He increased the pace of his fingers, your gasps and moans the only sounds in the room. He was relentless, his goal to bring you to the brink of climax and keep you there. Your back arched, your fingers gripping the edge of the table."Mmm,Berlin" you moaned arching your body.

He leaned over you, his voice low in your ear.

"That's right, darling," he murmured, "say my name. Let me hear how much you need me."

He increased the pressure of his fingers, driving you closer to the edge.

"Berlin... I need... " you gasp out words, feeling his body close to yours.He chuckled darkly, his body pressed against you.

"You need what, darling?" he whispered, nipping at your earlobe. "Use your words."

His fingers were relentless, leaving you a writhing mess.

"I...I need you" you finally manage to gasp out between moans. There was no denying it anymore, no more pretending. You needed him, and he knew it.

"That's what I want to hear," he purred, his free hand gripping your hip, his lips finding your neck. "Say it again."

"I need you," you repeated, your voice strained and needy. "Please."You couldn't believe the words that were coming out of your mouth, but you couldn't help it. You needed him, and your body was making it painfully obvious.

"Please what?" he asked, his lips moving to your jawline. "You have to be specific, darling."

He added another finger, the stretch making you gasp. He had you completely at his mercy, and he loved it.

"Please Berlin, I need you" you say begging for him, you feel like you are going to explodeBerlin giggles and moves his fingers more making you come. "Beava girl" he whispered and takes your fingers off sucking them and giggles. "you taste so good" You moaned and he slapped your pussy making you squirm and Berlin giggles taking off his boxers. You watched and he gets on top of you.

He looks into your eyes.

"Say you hate me" he murmurs with a smirk.

You try to say you hate him between moans, but the words won't come out, they are stuck in your throat.He chuckles darkly, knowing he has you completely at his mercy.

"That's what I thought," he purrs, his hand trailing down your body. "You can pretend to hate me all you want, but your body betrays the truth."

You look at him and finally you say the words.

“I.. I don’t.. I don’t hate you” you say with your shaky voiceHe smiles at your words, his gaze satisfied.

"Finally, some honesty," he says, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "I knew you couldn't resist me for long."

He grabs your thighs and enters you in one fell swoop, making you moan. He groans as he enters you, his body shaking with desire.

"That's it, darling," he murmured, his voice rough. "You feel so good" you groan.

You scratched Berlin's back as you felt his cock slide in and out of you. "Berlin" you moaned. He groaned in response, his body shuddering as you dug your fingers into his flesh.

"Say my name again," he commanded, his breath hot against your neck.

"Berlin" I moan while looking into his eyes.Berlin fucks you hard making you scream while he grunts. "Fucking tight" He was relentless, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless. His hands were everywhere - gripping your hips, grasping your hair, exploring every inch of your body. He was completely feral, consumed by desire and hunger."You're mine,"

You whimpered and clung to him more, scratching his back. "Berlin" You continued to whimper. He growled in response, his hand tangling in your hair and tugging your head back, exposing your neck to his lips.

"That's right, darling," he murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your flesh. "Say my name, let everyone know who owns you."

"I'm yours" you whimper out with ragged breaths.

He chuckles slightly "Say it again" he says.

"I'm yours" you repeated, your voice a breathy whisper.

"Louder" he ordered, a possessive edge to his voice.

You scream as you feel his thrusts getting harder, hitting your g-spot. “Yours” You screamed. He grins, satisfaction clear on his face.

"That's more like it," he purrs, his hand moving down to your hip, pulling you even closer to him.

"Mine" he repeated, his breath hot against your neck. "All. Mine."You captured his face and kissed him.

He returned the kiss hungrily, his body pressing against yours. His lips were demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with an intensity that made your head spin. It was almost as if he was marking you, claiming you as his own, and you couldn't find it in yourself to resist."I'll never let you go," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. "You're mine, darling. Mine forever."

You moaned and came triggering his orgasm too. Berlin came inside you and sighs biting your neck. "Now you're full of me baby" he whispered. You were both panting, your bodies slick with sweat and exertion. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You could feel the possessive edge to his touch, the way he held you as if he was afraid you would escape.

"Mine," he repeated, his voice a low grow. "You're mine now."

You were too tired to resist, even if you'd wanted to. You just leaned into him, your head resting on his chest. His heart was still pounding, a steady rhythm that soothed you.

"I hate you," you mumbled weakly, the words lacking any real malice.He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath you.

"I know," he said, his tone almost fond. "You always say that, but I think we both know it's not true anymore."

"Shut up," you muttered, too exhausted to argue.

He laughed softly, his hand coming up to stroke your hair.

"You're so stubborn, darling," he murmured, his touch gentle and possessive at the same time. "But you can't deny how good this feels."

You nod and hide in his chest. He held you close, his arms a tight cocoon around you.

"Just admit it, you've grown fond of me," he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

"Never," you mumbled into his chest, but there was no real conviction in your voice.

He chuckled, obviously not fooled by your weak protest.

"You're a terrible liar," he said softly, his hand coming up to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him.

You smiled sweetly. He smiled back, his gaze softening as he took in the sight of your face.

"There it is," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips. "That beautiful smile."

You blushed under his stare, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Stop it," you mumbled, but he just chuckled and tightened his grip on you.

"No," he said, his voice a low growl. "I don't think I will. I like seeing you like this - blushing, bashful, and all mine."You rolled your eyes but couldn't help feeling a flutter in your stomach at his words. It was infuriating how he could make you feel so vulnerable and yet so desired at the same time.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"You can deny it all you want, but I know the truth," he whispered. "You crave me just as much as I crave you. You may hate me, but you also want me."You closed your eyes and let his words wash over you. His voice was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive. You couldn't help but surrender to the way he spoke, the way he made you feel.

"That's it, darling," he murmured. "Just give in to me. Let me make you feel good."

You nodded slightly, your body completely boneless in his arms. You couldn't fight it anymore. You needed him, in every way imaginable.

He chuckled softly, obviously pleased with your surrender.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hands roaming over your body again, taking full advantage of your willingness.He kissed you deeply, his touch both soft and demanding at the same time. You responded eagerly, eagerly returning his kisses and touches. It was like a switch had been flipped, and you were now completely at his mercy.He took his time, exploring your body with his hands and mouth, learning every inch of you. He knew exactly what buttons to push, what soft spots to kiss, what words would make you squirm and shiver.

You were completely lost in him, your mind fuzzy with pleasure and need. All your hatred and animosity towards him had disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming desire."Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low growl as he looked down at you. "So beautiful, so eager for me. You're mine, darling. Mine and no one else's."

You nodded, your eyes wide and needy, silently begging for more.

He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with your surrender.

"So obedient," he teased, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

He lowered his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. "I love seeing you like this," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "All flushed and panting for me."You groaned softly, your body arching towards him, seeking more of his touch.

He chuckled again, obviously enjoying how responsive you were.

"You're so easy to rile up, darling," he whispered. "It's like your body was made for me. Made to be teased and played with."

"Only you" you admitted. He grinned and captured your face and kisses you deeply

[maskedcrawford]

Second Chances

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: Years after breaking up and seeing each other at events you and Ji-yong reconnect and decide if you really want to be with him or if you're done with him for good.

Warnings: Angst with fluff at the end.

A/N: I had two extremely similar requests so I paired them together. I hope this is what you two Anon's were looking for in your requests. If not, let me know. Not proof read so please excuse mistakes! Also I plan to work on part 3 of Hidden Secrets tonight. Check out my masterlist to get caught up on the series <3

Requests are OPEN

Being apart of 2ne1 was a dream come true. Your group was at the top of the charts and so was your name along with a very famous rapper professionally named G Dragon, aka Kwon Jiyong. The two of you were Korea’s most infamous couple, everyone, including your own band members, swore you were endgame. They came up with ship names, there were constant edits of you guys, life was great.

Or at least until it wasn’t. Life does what it does and gets in the way, conflicting schedules meant not seeing each other nearly enough and personal affairs became a hindrance. Then there were rumors about both of you cheating on each other, which wasn’t true, but YG wasn’t a fan of the negative controversy so then they weighed in putting pressure on both of you and it all just became too much.

The day it happened you knew it was coming, but you still didn’t want to accept it. You and Ji had been sitting at the kitchen table, having the same old conversation. But that night it was different.

“I just don’t think we can do it anymore, y/n,” his voice was quiet. It was breaking both of you.

“With the pressure of the label, never seeing you,” he trails off as he feels the tears in his eyes.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” you stand up off your chair and walk over to him looking down and moving his face to where he has to look at yours.

“You know I can’t say that,” He says like he’s begging you to stop.

“Then we can do it, we have to. I don’t,” your voice cracks with tears blurring your vision.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you shut your eyes tight.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” he stands up and gives you a long warm hug as you soak his t shirt with your tears.

“This isn’t easy for me,” he sighs as he lets you go. It feels way too soon as he doesn’t spare you another glance as he walks out the door.

And now, every time you see him, it’s a reminder of that painful night. You see him around, both of you being idols and having performances in the same places will cause that. The first place you seen him was a runway show for Chanel, and that was only 3 days after your break up. You were sat on the opposite side of the runway with a direct line of sight to him as he sat in the front row. There were many stolen glances between you two but neither of you spoke. Then there were the Mama awards, where you both were supposed to perform. Again the same song and dance. Both of you glancing at the other, wanting to talk, to make up and yet neither of you did.

After a while you could see Jiyong and not feel the same kind of pull, the one that wanted closure. You had accepted what had been and gotten to a place where you could fully support him, quietly, but still.

It’s the opening night of your tour, having been part of 2ne1 meant you were also able to do solo projects. Of course, your girls were there with you to support you.

“This is going to be so amazing!” Sandra says as she claps her hands excitedly.

“You ready for this?” CL asks.

“As I’ll ever be.” You say feeling the nerves kick in, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and while you’re gone, CL brings the girls together.

“You’re never going to guess who’s here tonight,” she whispers.

“Who,” Minzy asks.

“Ji-yong,” she smiles big and the girls go silent for a moment.

“Does she know?” Bom asks nervously. CL just shakes her head. You back in the room seeing them huddled and you raise a brow.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” they say in unison; the way you know they’re hiding something from you but you can’t prove it.

“Mhm, well I go on in 2 minutes so,” you motion them to leave so you can grab your mic and race off to the side of the stage. The lights go down and you get into place hearing the roar of the crowd as your silhouette is shown behind a screen.

During the last song before the small break your band gets, you see him. There in the 3rd row from the stage. His hair brightly colored and hard to miss. He’s giving you a proud, satisfied smile. You freeze for a moment before getting back into the groove of the dance moves. You flit your glance to him throughout the rest of the song. When your band leaves the stage you address the audience.

“You guys having a good time?” they all cheer and you smile.

“Awesome, Awesome!” You begin to walk around.

“Can you sing, You’re the One?” You look in the direction of the voice you hear.

“What was that?”

“You’re the One, can you sing it? The song with G Dragon,” she smiles wide. Your eyes go wide for a half second before you compose yourself.

“Uh,” you half laugh, “Yeah I don’t, I don’t see why not,” your eye go to where he was sitting but he’s gone. You feel relief crash over you, until a stage hand comes over to pull you off stage for a second.

“Whats up,” you say as your eyes land on the familiar man from the crowd. You both stare at each other for a moment, really taking it in.

“You want to do it, together? Like old times?” he ask shyly. Your heart starts beat faster.

“If you’re up for it,” you give him a warm and inviting smile despite the current anxiety you’re in. You notice behind him that CL is standing there watching you and you realize that this was what they were hiding. You slightly frown at her and she gives you two thumbs up.

You walk out on stage, “Ok, well I have a surprise guest for everyone, including myself,” you laugh into the mic.

“Everyone, please help me welcome, the one, the only, infamous G-Dragon!” you shout into the mic as the crowd goes crazy. He steps out confident as ever and stands beside you.

“Let’s do it,” he says cooly. The song begins and you both move to the beat, you raise the mic to your lips to sing the lyrics and he’s staring at you intensely. That familiar pull he once had on you, the one you swore was gone, is back. You want to feel his hands around your waist, his lips back on yours and the way he smells, you never want the smell to leave you again. He beings singing his part and his mind is going crazy along with his heart.

He stares at you, the way the lights shine off your sparkly outfit, the way you move your hips to the beat of the song, how you walk with utter and complete confidence on stage. He missed you more than he ever wanted to admit, even after all this time. For the last chorus of the song you two come together, he holds you close to him as he sings looking directly into your eyes and you blush due to the proximity.

You both sing the last line and stare into each other’s eyes for a moment when the crowd erupts. Its all background noise, though, as you see what looks like longing and regret in his eyes. He lets you go, hesitantly staring at you for a beat more before raising the mic to his lips.

“Goodnight, Seoul,” he says, “and Goodnight, y/n,” he says before winking at you and walking off stage with nothing but confidence.

You watch him walk off and feel that familiar pit in your stomach. The concert goes on as usual and eventually comes to end, your girls crowding around you to hug you and celebrate. You give them an annoyed look though once you’re in the dressing room.

“I can not believe you kept that from me!” You say astonished.

“I didn’t know he was planning on getting on stage!” CL defends.

“But you knew he would be here, and you knew I hadn’t told him about the concert,” she interrupts you.

“Y/n, jagi, I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you. But if you’re really over him, why are you so upset?” she gives you a knowing look. The girls knew you weren’t over him; you had convinced yourself but not them.

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Minzy suggests as she walks up.

“Nope, I’m not going to reopen that wound,” you say defiantly.

“Sounds like it’s all ready opened,” CL mumbles and you shoot daggers at her.

“Can we just celebrate please? I’d like to remember this as a good night,”

“Oh it’s definitely one you’ll remember,” Bom speaks up with a chuckle and another look is thrown her way now.

The next morning you wake up to your social media flooded as well as texts from CL.

“Dude, have you seen this?” She sends you a link to a tiktok that has a video from last night with you and Jiyong singing before more music starts playing with old photos and a short video of you two goofing off comes up. Fan edits were being made and you were being tagged in a ton of them.

“Holy crap,” you whisper.

“Are they actually back together?”

“It was just for the show.”

“So does this mean my parents are endgame again?”

More and more comments questioning you and Jiyong’s relationship flooded video after video, picture after picture and post after post across the web. As you get dressed for the day you get a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Seem’s we’re popular,” you hear his deep voice say as he chuckles.

“Ji,” you say, a little desperate than you meant for it to sound.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing today, but if I remember correctly, you never did two shows back-to-back,” you listen intently.

“So, if you’re free tonight, come over. I want to talk to you.” His voice is hopeful. It’s not like you could lie to him, your schedule was posted all over social media by now so telling him you had a show was easily disproven. You sigh into the phone rubbing your forehead.

“What time?”

“7, and come in something comfortable, I’m making dinner.”

“Since when did you cook?” you tease.

“Since you taught me to make your favorite meal,” he teases back and you blush with a small smile creeping up on your lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,”

“See you then, jagiya.”

Your heart skips a beat at the pet name. Sure, others called you that as a term of endearment but from him, it meant something different. You stand in front of his door in sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt. The man said casual wear so you went comfy, after all with all the discomfort that could come from tonight, you wanted to be as comfortable as possible. He opens the door, the smell of your favorite dish hitting your nostrils.

He smiles, he’s got his hair ruffled a bit and his glasses on, he steps aside to let you in and the memories from you years long relationship floods back to you. Most things were the same. A few new art pieces, a new sculpture even.

“Nice to see not much has changed,” you say as he walks a past you into the kitchen. You follow him and sit down at the bar. Princess Zoa hops onto the counter and greets you with soft purs and rubbing her head against your hand.

“And of course the princess herself,” you baby talk the cat and out the corner of your eye you can see Ji staring at you, a content smile on his face as he watches you with his cat-child.

He plates the food and you both eat, neither of you sure what to say.

“You really did do great, last night,” he comments after a moment of silence.

“Thank you, I’ll be honest I was surprised to see you.” You look up from your plate to find him all ready looking at you.

“CL invited me,” he admits.

“I wasn’t going to go at first, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me there.” You just look at your plate and he’s hoping you’ll say something.

“Ok, maybe you didn’t,” he mumbles pushing food around on his plate.

“What do you want me to say, Ji-yong?” Your fork clanks against the plate as you turn your whole body to look pointedly at him. He looks at you, shrinking a bit. He wasn’t sure how to do this, not really.

“Do you want me to say that I never moved on? That I still think about you, especially when I’m out and I see clothing I know you’d love. That I miss you being in bed next to me? That I miss sleeping over here and waking up to your cats gently making biscuits or laying loafed up on one of us? That I miss how you would always give me kiss on the forehead first thing when you woke up?” your eyes are frantic and he can see the panic and fear in them after you unload everything that needed to be said.

“Or how about that I miss the way your lips felt, the smell of your cologne, or the way you would always have a slight skip in your step when you had a really good day.” He looks at you stunned.

“What about how I miss the way you used to look at me, or how you could make me feel like I was the only girl in the world you’d ever look at. Or how,” he cuts you off with a passionate, deep slow kiss. You freeze for a moment before giving to the desire you’ve had since the day he left.

You both pull apart and he takes your hand leading you to the couch in the living room. He sits down and pulls you down beside him.

“Jagiya,” he whispers as he puts your foreheads together, “I’ve missed you so much.” You can feel tears pricking your eyes and you blink them back. His lips attach to yours again in another slow kiss, he cups your face with his hands and you hold onto his wrist.

“Ji-yong, you left me. I don’t understand,” you croak, emotion welling up in your throat.

“I know, and I’m sorry y/n,” he sighs as he pulls away from you to look at the ground.

“I let the label and what everyone else said get to me and I thought that letting you go was best for both of us, that we could find other people and be happy, but I’m not,” he looks deep into your eyes.

“I’m not happy at all, without you this means nothing to me. If you’re not in the crowd cheering me on I’m not the same G-Dragon. Without you here, without you home I’m not the same Ji-yong. I need you like I need air to breathe.” You feel a stray tear fall onto your cheek and he wipes it away with thumb.

“I’d like another chance, a chance to love you properly, to spoil you and show you just how much you mean to me,” he pleads.

“Oh, Ji,” you pull his face to you and kiss him again and you feel him smile against your lips.

“Is that a yes?” he quirks his brow and you smile.

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

“Yes,” you give him a hug and he pulls you into him, cuddling you on the couch.

[twisted-tales-of-all]

BEEP BOOP ITS ME

Can I request “It’s hard to sit here and be close to you and not kiss you.” And “ meet me in my dreams and stay for a while.” With Yunho please 👁️👁️

Hello Love <3 don't melt too much reading it mkay?

Pairing: Yunho x gender ambiguous reader Genre: fluff, boyfriend!Yunho, idol!Yunho Rating: G/PG, E for Everyone, whatever you want to call it Word Count: 591 Contains: an absolutely gut-wrenching amount of fluff, a proposal, and a kiss, that's about it

"I don't want you to leave. I miss you so much every time you have tours." You whine at your boyfriend as the day turns to night.

Sitting on the rooftop and watching the sun slip fully behind the horizon, you sigh. Although you've always preferred the night and its glistening stars, this night brings alongside its beauty the reminder that Yunho flies out as the sun rises in the morning.

"I know, bun. Believe me, if I had the choice to bring you without putting any risk on you, I would never leave you behind. Ever."

He turns towards you with an intensity in his eyes you haven't seen in years; one you only witnessed directed at you when he insisted that, if you agreed to brave a relationship with him six years ago, he'd keep you safe from over-attached fans no matter what. You cannot help as your heartbeat speeds up; you cannot move nor look away despite the goosebumps attacking your body and trying to make you shiver. Time halts in the beat of silence before his next statement.

"I would love to keep you by my side forever. In this life and the next. Awake, asleep, no matter the time."

He pauses, but your nerves built up under his gaze cannot handle even the smallest moment of silence, so words stumble out from your lips, "Then, meet me in my dreams and stay for a while. That way, it won't feel so lonely while you're gone in the waking world."

Your comment seems to loosen him up a bit. His eyes soften, and he cracks a smile as a chuckle breaks through his seriousness. Shaking his head at himself, seemingly dismissing thoughts he was holding to himself, he finds his words again.

"Gladly. I'll find you in your dreams and on any other plane of existence we end up in. No matter how long it takes, I will always find you. Whether it's in a sea of people or amongst the thousands of stars above, I am yours so I will find you. So, if you'll allow me, I'd like to leave you with more than just dreams of me."

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small jewelry box. Twisting his body completely in your direction, he ends upon one knee. Your breath catches in your throat and your senses still as he opens the box to reveal a ring even more gorgeous than you imagined. He implemented every little comment you've made about rings over the past years and added personalized touches that only Yunho could bring to life.

"Y/N, will you marry me?"

The tears clog your throat, and you already lost control of your body moments before his question, so you can't respond despite screaming 'yes' inside repeatedly.

"It is so hard to sit here and be this close to you and not kiss you right now. Even a small head movement will do if you can't speak."

The silly smile on his face gives you enough control to nod vigorously, so he leans over immediately and kisses you deeply before remembering the order he was supposed to go. Backing up slightly, he finds the proper hand and slips the ring on your finger.

"Y/N, you are perfect. I'm so far beyond happy that you're mine."

"I will be yours forever if you let me. As long as you can be mine forever, too."

"That sounds like a deal, and I will gladly shout it out to everyone, my love."

[chezmad]

Opposites attract

Pairing: Pre-borderlands Suguru Niragi x Female reader

Summary: Niragi and Ayumi share a cute moment at a local coffee shop. Later into the night they are not ready to leave each others side.

Warnings: Mild intimate thoughts.

Part 5 Date night ✰

-

Ayumi sat in front of her mirror, applying her final touch of perfume. This was probably the most excited she had ever been for a date. Normally, she dreaded them, convincing herself that the boy she was about to meet was a huge turn-off, making it hard for her to enjoy the time spent with him.

But this was different. She was genuinely excited and happy to see Niragi again. She was nervous, but it was a good kind of nervous.

Niragi, on the other hand, felt like he was going to throw up. Dates were too intimate, too close. He would be stuck face-to-face with Ayumi for what could be a long time. Not that he had a problem with her, but what if he ran out of things to say?

He found himself lost in thought, trying to come up with topics to discuss in case the conversation fizzled out.

At least they were meeting somewhere familiar. A place where the staff knew him, where he knew the best seat, and what to order. That would make it more comfortable.

They were meeting at Caffè Mondo, a cozy little Italian cafe just outside campus. It served small plates of food, but most people came for the coffee.

Despite his worries, Niragi stood outside the cafe, about 15 minutes early. He hadn't meant to be so early, but his nerves had gotten the best of him. Now he was wondering if he could survive the next 15 minutes in the cold.

He decided waiting inside and grabbing a table would be better.

Ayumi arrived right on time. She stood outside, looking at her outfit through the glass panel. As the cold seeped into her bones, she started wondering where Niragi could be.

The door swung open.

“Ayumi?”

Niragi stood in the doorway. Once he saw Ayumi waiting outside in the cold, he felt awful for not messaging her that he was inside.

“Niragi!” She flung her arms around his neck. Of course, he was early and already waiting inside.

He gently placed his hand on her lower back, feeling more confident now that they were outside of school.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you that I was inside.”

Ayumi pulled away from the hug. “Ah, Niragi, don’t worry! I should’ve assumed you were inside. You’re always on time for everything.” She smiled, reassuring him.

Niragi nodded, grateful for her understanding. Before the awkwardness could settle in, Ayumi grabbed his hand and led him inside.

“I’m not sure what to order,” she said as they walked through the cafe, admiring the cakes and cookies.

Niragi noticed her hand was cold, but it slowly warmed in his as she held it.

“Awe.” Ayumi let go of his hand and clasped both together, admiring the cozy table Niragi had chosen.

“This is the table I always try to get when I come here,” she said, giving him a wide, toothy smile.

Niragi loved that Ayumi appreciated the little things. Even though the seating was unintentional, she found beauty in the fact that Niragi considered it the best spot in the empty cafe—and it turned out to be the best spot for her, too.

As he sat down across from her, Ayumi found her gaze drawn to his arms. She nervously shifted in her seat. She had only ever seen him in his school uniform, where he wore long sleeves and a coat. She didn’t expect him to have such well-trained arms, especially not when he was just wearing a t-shirt.

Her mind wandered, overwhelmed by the unexpected sight.

“Ayumi?” Niragi leaned forward, breaking her train of thought.

Her wide eyes snapped to his face.

“Oh!” She blushed. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh, nothing,” he replied. “I was just going to order for us. What would you like?”

She grabbed the menu, looking frantically as if to make up for her embarrassing moment. “Uh, a latte, please.” She looked up at him, holding her breath.

“Okay,” he said, maintaining a neutral expression before walking off.

She stayed frozen in place until he was out of sight.

“Fuck.” She leaned back in her chair, her hand covering her face.

Ayumi knew this was going to be difficult. She was finally on a date with the boy she liked, and now she was seeing a side of him that was making it hard to focus.

She spent the next two minutes telling herself to only look at his face. She didn’t want to make him feel awkward by noticing more of his exposed body than he was used to.

When Niragi returned, they had a cute chat. They didn’t talk about school, which was their usual topic when they studied together. This time, they spoke about things they had shared in messages. Niragi couldn’t believe how well the conversation was flowing. Their chats online had been more intimate, and now, in person, it felt even smoother. He couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to someone so easily.

As a comfortable silence fell between them, Ayumi sipped her coffee, and Niragi found his eyes drifting over her appearance. She wore a short pleated skirt, a striped fitted jumper, stockings, and long boots. She had a style to her, and it was clear it wasn’t just a random outfit. Her bag, adorned with numerous keychains, the jewelry she wore, her hair accessories, and the way she styled her hair—all of it made sense now. It was hard to express yourself in a school uniform, but her funky acrylic nails and chunky boots from school made more sense in this context.

“So, what’s your plan after this, Niragi?” Ayumi asked, breaking the silence.

“Uh, I think I have some schoolwork, and I need to clean my dorm a little—” Niragi rambled on.

Ayumi laughed to herself. She hoped her hint about wanting to do something with him afterwards was clear.

Before he could continue listing off all the things he had to do, Ayumi interrupted.

“How about you come back to my dorm?” She stood up, putting her coat on, confident he wouldn’t argue.

Like a lost puppy, Niragi stood up, feeling foolish for not picking up on the hint.

“Y-Yes,” he stammered, quickly putting on his coat.

As Niragi rushed to gather his things, Ayumi looked out the window, squinting to see if it was raining. Then she glanced at Niragi, who was fixing his chair.

She smirked to herself, knowing that after just a few days, she had this boy wrapped around her finger. Not in a manipulative way, but it was nice to see the effect her words had on him, watching him blush with excitement.

The walk wasn’t long, but it was cold enough that Ayumi instinctively linked her arm through Niragi’s. She usually did this without thinking. She couldn’t walk next to someone without holding onto their hand or arm.

Niragi noticed, and he felt like her protector, as though she was clinging to him for safety.

When they reached her dorm, Ayumi led the way up the stairs. Niragi followed, his eyes occasionally drifting to the back of her exposed thighs, noticing the way her short skirt revealed more than intended with each step.

He quickly shook his head, looking away. He had been taught not to objectify women, but after climbing five flights of stairs with a view like that, it became hard to avoid.

“So, dorm 518,” Ayumi said, unlocking her door.

“Wow, you’re high up,” Niragi commented, looking out the corridor window.

“I know,” she replied, shoulder-butting the door open. “I requested not to be on the first floor.”

Finally, the door swung open.

“I’ve watched too many horror shows to sleep on the first floor.”

Ayumi flicked on the lights, threw her keys to the side, and made herself at home.

Niragi notices how her dorm smelt like the perfume she always wore. Then he noticed her school bag with her books carelessly sprawled out onto the floor where her bag has tilted over.

Ayumi took off her coat and quickly tidied up the room, trying to make it look presentable.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to come over, so I left it like I usually do.”

“No, it’s okay,” Niragi replied, his voice shaky. He was stuttering again.

Ayumi smiled as she walked toward him, her body subtly swaying with confidence.

She grabbed both of his hands. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” She tilted her head flirtatiously.

Niragi, avoiding her gaze, looked around the room, then down at her chest. He quickly shut his eyes, knowing that wherever he looked, it wouldn’t be the right place.

“Okay,” she said, noticing his discomfort.

Ayumi led him to the couch, and the noise of the mediocre comedy movie they’d chosen fizzled into the background.

The two sat in silence, overwhelmed by each other’s presence.

After an hour of awkward shifting, tired yawns, and small talk, they found themselves in each other’s arms.

Niragi didn’t know how they had ended up like this, but it felt natural.

As the quiet conversations faded, he turned his attention to the low-rated comedy movie.

After a painfully long watch, Niragi’s focus shifted back to Ayumi as the credits rolled.

She had fallen asleep in his arms. His heart swelled with warmth.

He knew she felt safe and comfortable enough to fall asleep with him there, and that made him feel special. If someone had told him earlier in the week that he would be dozing off with the pretty girl he occasionally glimpsed at in the library, he wouldn’t have believed it.

He didn’t care if their friendship didn’t progress further—this moment had taught him more about himself than anything else. But deep down, he hoped it wasn’t the end.

He needed to wake her up; he couldn’t just stay there all night. But as the hours passed, he found himself not ready to move, not ready to leave the sleeping girl beside him.

After some procrastination, and with another movie playing quietly, Niragi had unknowingly fallen asleep as well.

Tags: @centellasstuff

Authors note: AHH this was cute I cannot wait for the following chapters it’s about to get so good😩

[dejasenti99]

boyz night OUT!!!! @acuar-io <3

[kurooh]

when choso first learns about what facesitting really is, he brings it up after a make out session that’s left you both hot and heavy. he’s tugging on your hand, practically begging you to take a seat.

“i-i’m not sure,” you stutter, unsure. “what if you suffocate or something? i don’t wanna hurt you..”

the look he gives you is one of pure need and longing. “i don’t care, just sit baby. please.”

for good measure, choso gives you a little pout, breaking into giggles and a smile once you slip your panties and shorts off. your thighs tremble as you hover above his face, eyes squeezing shut at the heat of his breath against your sticky cunt.

“mmm, that’s no good,” he remarks, large hands rising to your hips and settling lightly. “i told you, sit down.” choso’s strong, yanking you down hard onto his face; you feel and hear his muffled moan when your pussy’s all over his whole face.

“choso!”

“so, so fucking good,” choso gasps against you, holding your squirming body in place as his tongue laps and laps at your sticky cunt.

beneath you, his body’s sweltering with heat, racing through every nerve like electricity while tight pressure builds in his cock. with a glance over your shoulder, you notice his hips rutting into the air as he searches for friction.

“cho,” you sob, so overwhelmed you actually feel tears building in your eyes, “i-i wanna suck you off, ‘s not fair—”

he easily lifts you and peers up at you from between your thighs, face flushed and shining with your slick. with a shaky finger, you nudge some of his hair away from his forehead.

“don’t want you to,” it’s painful to say, because he really does, but that’s simply a distraction for the both of you. “baby,” he murmurs gently, “i want you to focus on cumming for me, ‘s all, okay?”

you nod quietly, and the gesture is met with a mild slap to your ass. “okay, cho,” the moment the words leave your bitten lips, he’s pulling you back down and greedily drinking all of you in, taking whatever he can get.

choso’s ministrations encourage you to roll your hips against his face; a light bump of his nose to your clit has you crying out and grinding all over him. that’s right, he thinks, stars in his closed eyes. he wishes he could tell you to use him to get off, but he’d have to lift you up and he doesn’t want to even breathe.

unconsciously, he matches your pace, his hips rising into the air in synchrony with your own. one of your hands slips into his silky hair and tugs; he’s your anchor, keeping you somewhat steady although he’s the reason you can’t stop shaking.

“choso,” you wail loudly, angling your hips to let him take your clit between his lips and suck, “oh, i’m so close, ‘m gonna cum soon—”

from between your thighs, choso sees everything: the parting of your lips, the way your face crumbles in absolute pleasure, the brief moment of stillness as you fully fall over the edge.

it’s too much and not enough, but he cums too.

“c-cumming, choso,” is all you can muster, riding out your orgasm on his face and tongue while his hips buck wildly into the air.

the muffled moan you feel deep in your cunt makes you gasp, pulling away at the feeling of overstimulation, but he’s holding you tight. a look over your shoulder at the right moment, and you watch as his clothed cock explodes, gushing cum and soaking his boxers.

after all your squirming and pulling away, choso finally lets you go with crescent moon indents in your plush skin and a loud huff.

“i wasn’t done,” he heaves, skin smeared with your cum. it’s glossy and messy, but he won’t think about washing it off until you’ve cum at least three more times.

“but you came and everything, i—”

choso silences you by sealing his lips against yours, and you can briefly taste yourself— sweet, just like he’s always said.

“a few more times, please?”

[sunni-stuff]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 This is part 4 Part 5

His question hit like a punch, and the pressure of it lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. Armed Forces Day? Three years ago? A sharp jolt of recognition hit you, though the details of that night remained fuzzy. The memories were there, but they felt distant—like something you hadn't allowed yourself to fully remember after becoming a mother. 

You steadied yourself, trying to mask the unease rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?” you tried to sound steady but the tightening grip on your purse betrayed the rush of nerves running through you.

Simon shifted, his broad frame nearly eclipsing the dim light of the bar. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle in his own head, as though each word carried a burden too heavy to bear. “There was a night,” he began, his tone low and rough, every syllable deliberate. “Here. Three years ago. You were here. So was I.”

Your heart skipped, a wave of realization hitting with an almost physical force. The hazy recollections of that night flooded back, slowly accumulating together—laughter, drinks, an unexpected connection. Something that hadn’t felt planned but had burned far too bright to ignore.

The knot in your stomach twisted painfully, every part of you urging you to push it away, but the truth had already begun to sink in. “You’re…” The words stalled in your throat, heavy and lodged, the sentence unfinished as the reality stung like an accusation between you.

Simon exhaled sharply, part sigh, part laugh—but there was no humor in it. His gaze locked onto yours with unsettling intensity, and for a moment, it felt like he was waiting for you to break. “Yeah,” he replied simply, the word thick with certainty. “And she’s mine, isn’t she?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine, your body instinctively stiffening. The truth strung in the silence between you both, too glaring to avoid. Heart racing, every sense screamed to deny it, to distance yourself from this conversation before it spiraled out of control. But anything that could be said felt wrong, heavy on your tongue as you forced them out: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Simon’s eyes held yours, filled with something you hadn’t seen before—a desperation that cut through his usually composed demeanor. “Please,” he urged, the plea more potent. “Just tell me.”

How could this be happening? How could something so raw, so unspoken, suddenly spill into the air between the two of you? The weight of the moment anchored you, and for a moment, you couldn’t find a way to move past it. 

“She is,” you muttered at last, the confession slipping out like an unwanted secret. Fingers clenched tightly against the table’s edge, grounding yourself against the suffocating reality pressing in. “I never thought… never thought you'd come back into the picture.”

A brief silence stretched out before you spoke again, everything tumbling out in a rush. "I didn’t even know your name. All I recall was you kept making me." The admission hung in the air, lighter than it was, an attempt to lighten everything you didn’t want to say. 

The memory refused to stay buried. His face from that night, the intensity of his stare under the bar’s muted glow, how his presence seemed magnetic and overwhelming all at once—it all surfaced, unbidden. The connection had been undeniable, but that was your secret to carry. He didn’t need to know the details you still clung to.. 

“I don’t even know how it happened,” The sentence barely made it past your lips. “We used protection.” Doubt crept into your mind, unraveling the careful narrative you’d built for yourself. Did we? The past, fogged by alcohol and blurred moments, refused to come into focus.

Simon blinked, the blankness in his expression giving way to confusion, then disbelief. “Did we?” he asked with an edge of uncertainty. He was searching for answers neither of you seemed able to provide. Silence filled the space between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

"That parts a bit fuzzy," you admitted quietly, thoughts drifting away, the edges of the remembrance blurring with every passing second. “And clearly we didn't given our current situation.” 

Meeting his gaze, you knew this was the man from that fortunate night. Only different. More mature as if life hadn’t been kind to him. “All I know is… I woke up, and it was just me.” The recollection hung heavier than expected, twisting in your chest. "I never imagined I’d run into you again."

A heavy silence settled between the two of you, the gravity of everything left unsaid pressing down on the air. Neither of you knew how to move forward, or even if moving forward was possible.

“I knew she was mine,” Simon muttered, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, fighting against his own emotions threatening to break free.

You blinked in disbelief, the reality of his revelation settling in like ice in your veins. “You saw her?” The shock was evident. The idea that he had been so close—watching, perhaps even knowing—yet remained silent was almost too much to process.

Simon nodded, his gaze never meeting yours as he began. “Last month. When you were leaving the café with her. Johnny stopped you, and I was there.” He hesitated, swallowing hard as if the bulk of it all was pressing on him. “Johnny and the lads, they were the first to say they saw a little girl with my face. I was skeptical at first But then… then I saw the two of you together. And I saw it. Saw me in her. I had no idea she was even a possibility. Or that you were, for that matter."

Your breath hitched, a sharp sting rising in your chest. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface, the hurt, and the confusion all collided in one sudden wave. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The question shot out before you could stop it, the accusation sharp and loaded with all the frustration. He had been so close. Watching. Why didn’t he speak up?

Simon paused, his gaze dropping to his hands, fingers flexing as if he were trying to grasp for something he couldn’t hold. The silence stretched long between you, the tension palpable, as if the room itself was holding its breath. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came. 

“I…” He started, staring at his hands as though they might hold the answer. “I’m not good with things like this, love.” He rubbed the back of his neck, having a hard time fully expressing how he felt but this moment needed authenticity. “I needed time to figure out if I could step into a life that was already doing fine without me. I was afraid of complicating things, of ruining something that was just fine without me."

You didn’t expect what he said to hit you so hard. The impact of his confession—that he had stayed away because he wasn’t sure if he was fit to be a part of your life, Adira’s life—settled deep within you, heavier than you could have imagined. You’d been fine, hadn’t you? Raising Adira, carving out a life on your own. But there's always been that lingering voice in the back of your mind, that small, quiet thought of “what if?” What if things had been different? What if he had been there from the start? Maybe you wouldn’t have had to quit those overpriced mommy-and-me classes because of those judgmental women who gossiped behind your back. Maybe things would’ve been easier.

“I wasn’t about to just waltz in, love,” Simon’s voice softened, more vulnerable now, like he was carefully weighing his thoughts. “I needed to know if you’d even want me here. You and her…” His gaze darkened for a moment, his voice trailing off as though unable to bear too much out in the open. “I wasn’t sure if I was the right person to step into something already so… perfect.”

In those words, there was something you hadn’t expected to hear from him: honesty. He was afraid. Afraid of being the one to ruin what you had built. Afraid of not being enough for you or for Adira.

“I guess I understand,” you said quietly. "I just wish you showed up sooner."

Simon didn’t answer right away. Something within him flickered with guilt, and for a moment, you both stood there in silence. He glanced down at his hands, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out, but wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

"Can I meet her?" Simon asked nervously, a grown man fidgeting in his seat, the weight of his request sinking in.

"Now?" You chuckled, trying to brighten the moment. "It's late. I'm sure she's already asleep."

Simon’s gaze flickered with hesitation, but the desire was clear. He was barely holding it together, as if afraid that the chance to meet his daughter would slip away if he didn’t ask now. 

"I understand," he mumbles after a pause, almost to himself, but there was a longing there you couldn’t ignore. "I just…I need to see her. To know her. Even if just for a moment."

The magnitude of the situation pressed down on you again, this wasn’t something you had expected when you woke up this morning. You had no clue what to do with all of this, with him, with Adira’s future—your future. But still, you could hear his sincerity.

"Tomorrow," You decided. "We can meet up tomorrow, but it has to be on her terms. She's not exactly the warmest with new people."

Simon nodded, his expression a mix of relief and determination. "I can wait."

You gave him a small smile, a silent acknowledgment of the moment. There was still so much to figure out, but at least now, for the first time, there was a possibility. A chance to rebuild what had been lost. "Bring toys," you suggested sincerely, thinking about what would make her happy. "She likes trains. Doesn’t need to be anything cartoon-ish, just a proper train."

Simon blinked, a touch of confusion in his gaze. "She doesn't like dolls? Like most girls?" His tone had a hint of disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite picture a little girl who wasn’t into the typical, pink frilly things.

The thought of dolls made your stomach tighten, and you shook your head vehemently, as if to expel the very idea. "God, no," you replied, unease creeping into the conversation. "Please, don’t bring dolls. That’s the last thing I want." You shuddered as you spoke, recalling all the unnerving memories. "She gets all Sid from Toy Story with them."

Simon’s brow furrowed even deeper, clearly unsure. "What does that mean?"

You visibly grimaced, the image flashing vividly in your mind. "It means I wake up to doll heads scattered all over the place," you say, your voice low and serious. "And it's... creepy. Like she's planning something with them. It’s like waking up in a horror movie."

Simon chuckled at first, but as he saw the unflinching seriousness in your expression, his laughter quickly turned uncertain. His grin faded, and the unease that filled his eyes told you that he was realizing this wasn’t some joke. "You’re messing with me, right?"

Your stare at him, completely deadpan. "I wish I was."

For a moment, Simon just stared, taking in your unwavering expression. His lips parted, a nervous laugh escaping him as he absorbed warning. "Alright," he said slowly, now understanding your cautious warning. "No dolls. Trains. Got it."

You gave a relieved sigh, feeling the baggage lift off your shoulders. The tension hadn’t fully gone, but for now, at least the toy issue was settled. There were plenty of bigger things to confront later, but this? This was a small victory.

This one is a little shorter than the rest, simply because I want the meet up chapter to be really long for yall! :3

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[screampied]

FAKIN’ IT FOR YOU ?! ☆

gojo, sukuna, nanami, toji, choso. faking an orgasm n how they react

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, faking órgasms, praise, filthy dirty talk, orgasm denial, first time squirt (choso), öral (f! receiving), nipple play, impact play, manhandling, req by anon, mdni. total wc 3.7k

★ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“what the fuck was that?”

he wouldn’t even care he was balls deep—you can’t even try to fake an orgasm with toji because he’ll immediately know. toji knows every inch of your body—he studies it like one would study for an exam, every particular nerve, he knows how to hit it until you break. yet, the moment you decide to fake your release, all hell breaks loose. you’d be on all fours as he stops his churlish hits against you, a hand of his gathers a firm amount of your hair before he tightly yokes it back. sweetly, you play coy and moan, “what was what?”

“let’s not,” toji grumbles, and he’s annoyed. you can hear the extra grit linger underneath his tone as he speaks. ravened eyebrows of his curve into a frustrated furrow before he pulls out. it was so abrupt, you whine before he gives your ass a rude spank, darting his eyes away with an eye roll. “oh, please, girl. was that a fake moan too?”

“it wasn’t f-fake,” you protest, and you’re suddenly quiet from the way he rubs his fatten swollen tip against your soddened entrance. toji could read you like a book though—you weren’t bullshitting anyone. you was so close but instead, you decided to be a bit more of a brat, kind of desperate to see toji’s reaction.

all toji does is pull out. you whine, the friction titillating against every number of nerves hidden within your body before he spanks your ass again. “faking an orgasm for me, girl bye.” and as he speaks, you could hear his sheer vexation. toji brings your hips up to him, having your face laid down against the woolly mattress before he wraps a hand around his shaft. giving it a few pumps, he starts to slap his tip against your entrance. “got some balls, girl. i’ll give ya that.”

“w- why’d you pull out?” you whimper, making a cute attempt at grinding your rear against him. toji snickers, drubbing his plump cockhead against your slit, pushing it in—only to pull it right back out. the dewy squashes your pussy makes only rings against your ears further. all you feel is pure static, you’re panting, chest heaving, everything and above.

with a secure grip against a nice chunk of your hair, toji groans. “b- because i fuckin’ cannn,” he mocks your faltering stutter, a palm of his bedaubing against your folds before spanking it silly. “ooh,” he purrs, watching your thighs shimmy upon impact. you bite your lip, trying to rut yourself further against him and he only resumes to rub his rounded fat tip between your slit. desperately, you try to swallow him whole but before you could even attempt — toji pulls it back out, slapping his hefty cock onto your pussy again and again. “got some nerve faking an orgasm with me when y’er this soaked already.”

“f-fuck,” a mewl dies out your throat as you feel him continue to smear his rotund cockhead all over your most sensitive parts. with your back hunched over, pretty thighs parted, you let off a bratty giggle. huffing out a sweet sigh, you hum, “it’s just … you’re getting a bit old, toji. didn’t wanna be mean.”

toji’s left eye twitches. as he ghosts a few fingers against your cunt — he slowly inserts two thick fingers inside of your lewd opening before pulling his digits back out. “old, huh?” and he flips you over to look straight at him. sable hairs of his run down his brows before he slyly smiles. a gasp wretches out from your throat before he shoves both of your knees up to your chest, realigning himself. with a husky grunt, he snarls. “don’t play with me. old or not i’ll still break this bed, whore.”

“d- do it then.” you almost simper but he cups a hand over your face.

“tch, such a mouth on ya. ain’t nothin’ a few orgasms won’t fix,” and you moan once he starts to finally make his way inside of you. the girth of toji thickens and dilates throughout your walls and you feel his grip tighten against your knees. as the bed starts to creak in harmony again, he darkly cackles, hot breath aerating against your neck. “oh, and just a heads up baby. when i break this bed, ‘s coming out of your pocket to replace it. ‘ppreciate it.”

★ CHOSO KAMO

“h-huh,” he’d stammer in short briskly breaths. choso doesn’t realize you fake it until he actually realizes something wasn’t right. with him being propped up between your plush thighs, he gently gnaws against your chin, panting heavily. “baby, did you just fake your orgasm?”

you only give him a sheepish grin and choso pouts, he leans in to kiss your pout, soft sweet kisses gluing against your chin before he whines. “that… wasn’t nice,” and he buries his face into his neck. choso’s only teasing—but in the case that you do fake an orgasm with him, he’s more than determined to make you cum at least ten times harder. choso would have you laying flat on your back, gradually easing himself back into your sopping accepting walls before he whines. “oh f-fuck,” he’d gasp, feeling you immediately engulf around his length. he’s throbbing into you, various veins that run down his shaft pulse inside of you. your legs immensely snake around his waist before he starts to deeply drill into you.

choso’s pace is different this time — it’s much more frantic, he’s still whimpering praises into your ear as he’s plummeting his dick within your gummy clingy walls. “mhm, just like that baby. s-so good,” you’d mewl out, his hips continuing to drive into you at a full smacking speed. it’s addictive, the way his sharp hips rotate against you—you feel your tongue hang out before he leans in to suck on it.

you’ve always tasted so sweet, choso’s moans only grow louder as he starts to tap against that same spot buried inside of your cunt. he knows your moans are for real this time because of your body language—how you cling onto him tightly with your giddy arms and legs, biting down onto his right shoulder in pure pleasure. “fuck, fuck right there baby. that’s it, that spot, pleaseee.”

choso could have came alone from your melodic words of encouragement. you’re all stupefied with your eyes crossed, warm hot bodies clashing against each other in sync. he whimpers, feeling his thighs ache near the undersides before his hefty cock reaches yet another deep spot. your legs were steadfastly wrapped around his torso, making sure he’d never leave. “come on baby, give me one, please. gimme a real one,” and he licks a long stripe up your neck. “give it to me, make a mess on m-me so i can clean you right up.”

as you’re positioned in a sprawled way, choso’s hands roam towards your neglected bouncing tits. his head lowers down to suck against them as his hips go slow. a growing pool of heat resides near your lower abdomen as his delicious inches drill in and out of you. “f-fuck, ‘cho. ‘s coming, feel w-wet.”

“let go on me, please,” he purrs, his tongue licking against your sensitive nipples. after a while, he csnt help but start to suck against your precious mounds, moaning as you cup his face to look at you. choso grinds against you, verbosely slowing himself down before you let off a real shriek. as the coarse smacks against each body pitched louder and loduer, you feel yourself zealously jolt forward before you feel a sudden sensation gush out of you. the velocity of it all was soaking — you’re panting, chest heaving as you try to recollect breaths before you feel yourself spouting out more onto your boyfriend. choso pauses, his pink dampened lips quavering as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “baby,” his eyelids lowers, and he’s puffing for air right with you. a hand of his trails down between your thighs, lifting up your legs before he moans. “did you just squirt on me…?”

feeling a drenching pool of saliva coat into your mouth, you whine out a timid, “y- yes.”

giving you a hungry gaze, his dick twitches inside of you before he pulls out to watch the remnants of your own slick spill out. “o- oh wow,” he gawks at the filthy scenery right before his eyes. in a gruff voice, choso bites his lip, leaning down to press a final delicate kiss against your pussy. “mwah,” his warm lips ghost against your now drenched folds. he can’t help but lick against it, savoring your sweetened taste before he looks up at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “do.. do you think you can squirt for me one more time? pretty please. need you s-so bad.”

★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

the audacity was beyond him—he knows right away, sukuna was no foolish curse.

if it was anything he knew by heart, it was your body. whenever you’re about to orgasm, he likes to stare dead into your eyes whilst he’s giving you his all. slow yet deadly strokes, he likes draining the pleasure out of you with the thick inches of his cock. oh, how his favorite part was to just hear your babbling little voice sob out his name over and over like a looping vinyl on a record player. your adorable cacophonies of “right there, right there,” and “gonna cum, ‘kuna,” and many more, many of which they all never fail to reverb across the padded walls of his sacred chambers.

although, he can easily tell from how it’s real or fake. sukuna gets up close—hearing the sounds of your heavy breaths as your legs wrap around his waist. as you’re taking in every part of his bare long length, your arms sling around him. you’re a mess underneath him, jostling against his beefy built body. the demon’s pure smoldering heat colliding against yours only makes you throb at a much quicker pace. his scent, you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “i-i’m close, ‘kuna.” you’d mewl out in a desperate cry, hearing his low animalistic growls all close up against the outer shell of your ear.

he knows,

you didn’t even have to remind him, he knows your body. it was his priceless treasure. sukuna groans as you claw your fingernails into the deep depths of his back. his thickened base resumes to jackhammer into your tight sticky walls furthermore until you croak. he’s just so big, you jaw was dangling open all stupid like before it finally comes— that familiar squeal he’s grown to love. his favorite part.

as your cunt sloshes against the repetitive thwacks against it, you whine out your finish—yet he notices something quite peculiar about your concluding climax. as you lean your back, doe eyes staring into the ceiling, his pointed ears twitch at the way you elongated that single orgasmic syllable. “think you’re so funny,” he says as he waits for your seven second orgasm to come to a closing halt. crimson red eyes makes your tummy churn as you meet his stern gaze and he grips your chin. “little girl, you’re playin’ a dangerous game.”

“w- what?” you coyly mutter, an almost smile pulls against each side of your lips before he glares at you.

sukuna pulls out and you gasp, your ankle brushing against the back of his torso and he squeezes your lips together. “brat,” he snarls, his tone all rough and husky. a free hand of sukuna’s sneaks down between your pried open legs to feel against your pussy. a real moan snatches out from your throat as he rubs sloppy circles against it, only to smack it again, and again, and again. your eyes start to roll as he continues to pace. you’re so soaked that it starts to coat his hand. “look at you. can’t get off to dick but you came just from a few pussy smacks? tch.”

“m-more, ‘kuna. don’t stop pleaseee.” you pant, feeling your tummy cave in as you’re directly underneath him. his weight hovers above you as he still grips your cheeks together, giving you a hot, steamy kiss. sukuna’s forked tongue glides against yours and you whimper in his mouth before he lightly pushes you off. you ‘oof’ back onto the fat padded mattress with a pout as he gets up. with a saddened frown, you sit up to whine. “where— where are you going?”

sukuna fixes his kimono before giving you an annoyed glower. “don’t worry about that. worry about how you’re gonna make that pathetic pussy finish since i apparently can’t make you cum,” and he snickers at your little grumbles before he walks out. “change the sheets when you’re done. fuckin’ wet girl.”

★ NANAMI KENTO

“…oh,” a deep voice groans from behind you. nanami’s voice was low, his simple oh sounded offended more than anything. most of the time he doesn’t really have you on all fours, doggystyle. but today, you were being a bit of a brat. nanami doesn’t mind your little antics, but if it’s to a point where he has to remind you of your place, he will. nanami’s thick cock was plunging in and out of you before he abruptly stops, slowing down once you ‘release.’

your moan sounded a bit too dramatic than usual, you gulp as he lightly grips onto the back of your shirt.

“oh….what?” you’d moan out, and you glance at the mirror that’s propped up in front of the both of you. there—you see nanami with a look of what seems to be mere irritation. nevertheless though, it’s hot. the way his gentle fawn irises burn into you, perfectly arched brows of his lower and a scowl forms onto his lips. he was still fully clothed, just his slacks from work hanging low. out of nowhere, he gives your ass a mean spank.

nanami sighs, feeling his dick that was stuffed inside of you twitch from the inside. “let’s not ask silly questions, my love. you faked that one, didn’t you?” and despite how sweet and alluring his delivery was—you heard a faint rasp in his voice, the baritone as he speaks makes you even more wetter than you already were.

you pout, not fond of how he stopped fucking you, you wanted more—you couldn’t help but be greedy for more of him.

“i didn’t,” you lie through your teeth, arching forward in a cute teasing attempt for him to finish drilling into you. nanami doesn’t follow through though, instead—he gathers a strong yet gentle grip of your hair. as his veins coarse through him, his hefty arms bulge as he pulls you forward to stare at your pathetic needy reflection. “f-finish fucking me, ‘ken. why’d you s-stop?”

“why should i continue, sweetheart? tell me that,” and his words were nothing more but a soft purr. his interest was suddenly piqued—you’ve never faked one of your orgasms before, at least not with him. as you lie on your chest, he takes a peek at your ass before letting off another low sigh. nanami gets directly up close to you before he delicately tightens the grip around your hair a tad bit. “ah, don’t be shy now. tell me what ‘m not doing right to make this pussy feel good. i know you faked it, my love.”

your breath hitches as nanami presses his weight against you—his throbbing cock buries itself between your entrance but he’s not even in fully.

he’s just … idle, his shaft remains near you and you whine from the feeling of him not moving.

“i was just p-playing,” you whine, feeling your perky nipples rub against the satiny-made sheets. whilst you smear your glossy lips together, you grind your hips against your husband. “just wanted attention, ‘ken.”

“my wife,” he whispers, planting a hot kiss near the nape of your neck. his touch alone could make you finish. it was that easy, nanami’s fingers skim against your waist before he sucks gently against your collarbone. “there’s other ways to get my attention, you know that,” and his voice softens by a mile. he’s always gentle with you, his throbbing cock all swollen and built up of so much volumes of seed that he was preparing to give to you. “ugh, having you bent over like this ‘s drivin’ me crazy,” he abruptly admits, feeling you wriggle your ass against his cock that was stuffed between the very temples of your ass. “but,” he swallows, sneaking another kiss, this time against your earlobe. “if i give you another orgasm, ‘s it gonna be real this time?”

“y- yes, promise,” you moan, desperate for him to go back inside. nanami’s hands grab onto your hips now as he pulls them up, relishing in your little arch you’ve got going on for only his eyes to see. you’re gorgeous, he huffs out a few breaths as you take your time to whine out your little words of desire. “won’t fake it anymore, jus’ finish fucking me, please.”

nanami groans—his fingers wrapping around his fat length, giving it a few mere pumps before he prods it against your hungry swallowing slit. “atta girl. keep that arch f’me, yeah,” he sucks his teeth, raising his chin up to where his jawline makes an appearance. “now,” he whispers, deepening his voice as he spreads your legs, making your right cheek sink into the cottony pillow. “let’s try this again. let’s see if i can get a little squirt out of you, sweetheart.”

★ SATORU GOJO

once he finds out you faked your orgasm, it significantly bruises his ego—he tries to play it off with a sheepish cackle cutting out of his throat. “heh, i can fake an orgasm better than that, y’know.” he’d mutter, yet you could hear the little tremor in gojo’s tone. he was quite literally pounding into you before he makes you lie down flat against his chest. he makes you spread your legs for him, exposing your dripping pussy before he pinches your clit. you moan, feeling gojo’s bulge brush off against your ass. “kinda hurt my feelings, hmph.”

“i didn’t f-fake it—” you try to lie. with his fingers rummaging near the inside of your cunt, it had you biting back your words in regret. you lean back against his chest, legs all spread and you start to squirm before he hums against your ear.

“squirmy today aren’t we?” gojo jeers with an impish smile. he titters at the way your legs judder all because of the indecourous stimulation. each tantalizing twitch makes him wanna rub his fingers against your clit even quicker. “if you don’t wanna gimme an orgasm, i’ll just have to do it myself, angel.”

you clench onto his thigh, allowing pleasure to overtake you before his fingertips skid against that familiar spot. now— your moans were very much real, gojo’s fingers was so lengthy that he could reach you in areas his own dick probably couldn’t locate. as your eyelids feel heavy, they shut before another whine leaves your mouth. he still keeps up his pace, maneuvering all kinds of circles over your pussy in a rotation manner before your thighs start to shudder in ecstasy.

“satoru, satoruuuu,” a heavenly sounded whimper dies out your throat. you only then roughly gnaw down on your lip, a cute try at trying to suppress your little moans. “don’t think i can c-cum anymore, ‘s good fuckk.”

he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “yes you can, i know you can baby,” he whispers, and that’s when he moves again, moving himself between your legs this time. gojo brings a chaste kiss towards your pussy, slithery strings of saliva peeling from your folds and it’s so sloppy. immediately, his lips get all moist and muggy with your honeyed slit. he creates a bowling ball grip with two lengthy fingers, shoving the two of them in and out before he blows parching hot air against your cunt. “gotta get my baby a little wetter.” he whispers, watching you pulse from the inside. within seconds, you happily coat your boyfriend's fingers with your dingy sheet arousal before he slowly vigorously continues to knead various circles and shapes against your swollen nub. you were throbbing laboriously, pulse after pulse as you panting repeats itself as if you’re running a marathon.

gojo lolls out his long wet tongue against your pretty pussy, savoring your candied taste as he feels you roughly joggle against his mouth. hot puffs of pants fans against your folds as he chuckles, and he then starts to spank your pussy raw. one spank turns into two, then three, then four . .

you didn’t want him to stop anytime soon—his guzzling greedy sucks against your clit only makes you spasm out even faster. by now, you don’t even remember why you faked your orgasm because the real one was finally about to present itself. it’s coming to you like a tsunami wave, you can’t predict it but it’s preparing to crash into you all at once. the build up has you almost drooling before you grip onto his his meaty thigh.

“s-satoru— something’s hnghhh coming. oh my goddd,” and you’re trapped in a haze, yet gojo doesn’t stop there. he’s so offended that he doesn’t just make you cream on his fingers. he makes you squirt on them too, gushing out so much the that sheets are now all soaked thanks to you. whilst your tummy heaves, your legs feel all numb and not before long, he makes you squirt again. your jaw cutely sways itself open as you lie back on the mattress, feeling the few spurts trickle out of you slowly. “f-fuck,” you whine, and your voice is all strained and tiny.

gojo hums before he starts making out with your pussy. his eyes close as if he’s actually kissing you, each smooch sounds more sloppy by the second before he pulls out his fingers, sitting up to slide them into your mouth. “taste yourself baby. now thaaaat’s how you orgasm,” and as you take his digits into your mouth with droopy eyes, your tongue swirls all around his fingertips. as you moan amply from your own taste, he wrenches out his fingers before sneaking a two second kiss on your lips. “awww, don’t tap out on me now. you can give ‘toru one more, right?”

[manmuncher777]

Roommate!Gojo who sends you off on your date with a pang of jealousy ripping its way through his body. Why couldn’t you be dressing up like that to spend the night with him. He knew you were excited, this was the most you’d dressed up in a long time, your hair sitting do perfect after the hours he watched you spend on it. The outfit you chose showing your figure in a way that had him clenching a fist, trying not to reach out and let his fingers dance over your exposed skin. That intoxicating perfume filling his nose as he stood so close, wishing you a good night before the door finally shut, and the only trace left behind was the small waves of your sweet scent still lingering in the air

Roommate!Gojo who is confused when he hears your keys in the door just 2 hours later, he wasnt even expecting you back tonight.

Roommate!Gojo rushing to your side when he sees your pretty face puffed up with tears, concern lacing his tone. Utter joy racing through him in reality, but he was still sad to see you so upset

Roommate!Gojo who listened to youn blubber and rant about how this was your first date in a long time and how you just wanted a nice night. He listened to you rant about how much an asshole the guy was all while stoking your hair and kissing your head as you sat wrapped up in his arms

Roommate!Gojo who almost died then and there when he heard you complain how men were shit and you “just wanted to get laid”

“that might be something I can help with gorgeous” he whispered before anything could stop him, His reaction basically automatic

Roommate!Gojo who had your crying for a nothing reason a few moment later as he was burying himself between heaven you thighs. Hot tears streamed down your face as the mans thick tongue worked his way through your folds, playing with your little bundle of nerves. Small whimpers leaving his throat as your taste made him rock hard. His hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread wide for him so he could see you in all your glory “Pretty girl, if you were needing to cum all you had to do was ask me” his syrupy voice rang out in your fucked out head in between his vulgar licks of your dripping cunt “That asshole didnt deserve to see you so pretty” he whispered into your cunt. “I had half a mind to drag you back in a fuck you against the door seeing you dressed like that”

His words rippling over your, breaking you more and more. You had no choice but to listen to him as he teased and taunted you.

You couldn’t even bother yourself to respond, not after his fingers slid into your cunt so easily, the squelch of your wetness echoing in the room.

Roommate!Gojo who couldn’t wait to get his throbbing cock inside that needy little pussy of yours. He’d thought of this moment for months and he wasn’t quite sure how it was actually happening.

Roommate!Gojo who had you naked and spread over his bed right now, looking at your fucked out features. Your skin laced with sweat, your hair still beautifully framing face, those tits hed spent so many night imagining while he fucked his fist now open for him to see, all marked from his touch. That beautiful cunt of yours dripping from the orgasms he had already pulled out of it, and yet you were still begging him for more

“please Satoru, I need you” you whined so sweetly beneath him and he teased his red leaking tip through your folds, coating himself I your slick. He soothed you, kissing your head gently “It’s okay pretty girl, ill give you whatever you need” he promised before lining himself up with your fluttering entrance and sinking himself deep inside.

The moan that left him was sinful as he bottomed out inside of you, you felt amazing wrapped around his cock, even better then he imagined.

Roommate!Gojo who couldn’t hold himself back for long, soon he was pistoning himself in and out of your sopping pussy, moaning incoherently abut how good you felt. You were more then happy to lay there and take every inch, every thrust he was giving you. Your mind so far gone you couldn’t do much more then whimper and moan and every move he made, his thick cock hitting that delicious part of your velvety walls with every stroke. Your eyes rolling back as your nails dragged red lines down his back

“There she is, theres my pretty girl” “cant believe all you needed was a good fucking sweetheart, all you had to do was ask” “been thinking about this tight little pussy for ages” “come on baby, take it, this is what you where begging for” “such a good girl for me, taking it so well” “awh, you like this don’t you? filthy girl”

Roommate!Gojo who was a stuttering mess, his head falling into your shoulders as his hips never stopped their brutal pace, his balls slapping against you with each thrust. It wasnt long before he had you cumming again that night. Your wall squeezing him tight as you flooded his perfect skin with you juices. You could do nothing but moan his name, so sweetly in his ear that his orgasm hit him as well. His balls tightening as he fucked him cum deep into you. His pushing himself deeper with each finishing thrust. A deep groan coming from his chest as his hips faultered and finally stopped. Both of you lying there, panting.

“next time you need a good fuck princess, let me know” he whispered into you ear

You wouldve hit the smug bastard if you werent so sure that you would be taking him up on his offer again the next day

[rafesangelita]

♡ rafe is tired, but never too tired to have pretty little sheep!reader bouncing on his cock

warnings: dealer!rafe, light fluff, sleepy sex, riding & reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, spanking, hair pulling, use of the name ‘daddy’, tit sucking

a/n: sheep!reader has been getting heavily requested.. so ask and you shall receive! i’ll be giving longer fics a small break until my pogue!sweetheart!reader series is done because my brain is actually going to explode lol

nothing felt better than coming home to you after a long day of bullshit and seeing you in nothing but those cute thigh high socks of yours. especially when you were so needy and willing to do all of the work. you’d give rafe what felt like a thousand kisses all over his face, his arms wrapped around your waist as you gushed about how much you missed him and thought about him all day. “yeah? i missed you more.” you’d smile at his words, quickly getting him out of his clothes.

you massaged the tension out of his shoulders and left trails of kisses along his skin, your boyfriend growing more relaxed as your skilled hands worked to get him unwinded. by the time you were finished, he was barely able to keep his eyes open, his heavy-lidded gaze meeting yours. “what do you want, baby? you’ve been looking at me like you got something on your mind..” your cheeks heated in response, his fingers dancing along your flesh.

“i know you’re tired.. but can i get on top?” a lazy smile made its way to rafe’s lips before he pulled you onto his lap.

“fuck, yeah.”

those two words were all the confirmation you needed, your shaky hands planted on rafe’s thighs as you moved on top of him, his cock filling you to the hilt. watching you move so fluidly on top of him was enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight of your soaked cunt gripping him with every drag of your hips drew more moans from him than the last. “ah, f-fuck! you’re just taking that shit..” rafe was mesmerized, his large palm resting in the curve of thigh.

you cried out when his hand came down on the globe of your ass, a stinging sensation spreading across your sensitive skin. “riding me dumb, huh?” rafe grunted, wrapping a fist in your hair before pulling you back against his chest. you were arched almost painfully in this position, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “poor baby, here by herself all day..” you whimpered, his free hand snaking down your tummy until he had your clit pinched between his fingers.

you shrieked, white, hot pleasure blinding your vision. rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. he knew what would have you yelping in pain, and what would make you all soft and warm like putty in his hands. “riding daddy makes you so fucking wet,” your hips stuttered when rafe starting rubbing hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the lewdness of his words, “just letting me use you like the cock slut you are, right?”

“y-yes!” you whimpered, sighing in relief when he let your hair go. “make yourself cum, ‘pretty girl, let me feel you.” rafe watched as you leaned forward, your back arching deliciously as you bounced on his length. your ass met rafe’s thighs in rhythmic claps, the sound making both of you moan. “turn around, precious, ‘needa see that pretty face.” you slid off of him for a moment, finally swinging a leg over his lap before sinking back down on his cock.

pushing his face into your chest, you whined when you felt him take one of your tits in his mouth, his tongue circling around the sensitive bud. he licked and sucked as you worked to make both of you cum. you relished in these moments when you two were panting into each other’s mouths, skin hot and burning with fiery need and desire, never wanting it to end. rafe’s abs constricted as he inched closer and closer to his climax, your thighs aching for a break.

“don’t fucking stop..” rafe dug his fingers in the flesh of your hips, “oh, my god, don’t stop!” he repeated, your eyes brimming with tears as your clit slapped against his pubic bone. as soon as you doubled over, your head falling against his shoulder, rafe knew the band in your tummy finally snapped, his own orgasm hitting him at the same time. embracing you tightly, rafe thrusted up from below you so you could just cum without keeping up your pace.

you shook against him, tears rolling down your cheek and onto his collarbone as you reveled in each wave of pure bliss. rafe’s mouth stayed open, his eyes screwing shut as you milked him for all that he had. eventually, you two came to a stop, your breaths being the only sound in the room. if rafe felt tired before, he was even more drained now.. literally. nothing beat his pretty thing of a girlfriend taking his load at the end of the night.