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unholyhelbig · 5 months ago

Note

More Wandanat pls 😊

Title: Are you Avoiding me?

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 2935

Warnings: pet names, sexual situations implied, broken glass, and horrible spelling (I don't proofread).

Summary: It's becoming harder and harder for reader to avoid both Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Things only get worse when they're cornered in their lab.

[A/n: This is just a little drabble, that's been sitting in my drafts for months, nothing with too much sustinance! I've been distracting myself lately with Wenclair content instead of writing]

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There were thousands of mugs with Shield’s logo on the side that floated around the compound, changing hands between agents and the high-ranking Avengers. It’s why you felt less bad about dropping the one in your grasp to the floor. It shattered into dozens of pieces, and the rest of the pale coffee you were drinking seeped out of the wreckage.

“Ow! Why? Why?” Clint’s voice had turned to a growl by the end of his sentence. He had righted himself and gripped his own mug to his chest, leveling you with a glare that was much too vicious this early in the morning.

The words were trapped in your throat and you dropped down behind the kitchen island, pressing yourself close enough to the wood to become apart of the grain. If you could just hide long enough for them to wander away, then all would be well.

The archer glanced down at you, and then back to the hallway that passed the communal kitchen. Natasha Romanoff had her brow furrowed, lifting a sculped eyebrow at him. She had just come back from her morning run, a fine sheen of sweat coating her muscles. He gave her a shrug and that was enough encouragement to send her on her way.

You let out a long sigh at the sound of her footsteps retreating. “Don’t look at me like that, Barton.”

“I can look at you anyway I want to, you’re the one that would rather be on the ground than talk to Natasha.”

It wasn’t just talking to Natasha. It was looking at her too; breathing the same air as her, meeting her fern-colored eyes across the room and ceasing to have a tangible thought pattern. You were an Avenger, for fucks sake, an ex-KGB spy shouldn’t make you fumble the way that you did.

“It’s not that hard, y/n. She’s harmless, really.”

That was easy for him to say. You huffed quietly and picked up the broken pieces of mug before depositing them into the trashcan. Coffee would make you too jittery anyway. So, if you really thought about it, your nerves had done you a favor.

“She’s terrifying.” You said, reaching for an empty glass. You filled it up with tap water and tentatively took a sip. It went down clunky and cold. “And gorgeous.”

“A combination that renders you absolutely useless.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Clint lifted both of his eyebrows at you, not saying a word. He didn’t have to. And you didn’t need all of this judgement from him in the first place. He had been so scared of Natasha that he couldn’t bring her in, in the first place. He would tell it differently, but you didn’t stick around to find out.

There were other things that you had to do; like a mountain of paperwork and a few modifications to the Vibranium arm that had found its way onto your desk. A cold shower wouldn’t do you any harm either. And if your fingers were to wander? No one would know.

You flashed him the middle finger, abandoning all thoughts of nourishment for the day. Tony kept his labs stocked with bottled water and granola bars after some nagging from Pepper. That would hold you over until lunch and if you started to drift, there were plenty of electrical sources that would give you a low-grade jolt.

Most of the time, you kept your head down, earbuds in even if they weren’t playing music. It was easier not to get caught up in the fanfare of the Avengers. Most of them were human, and they made human mistakes even if they weren’t.

You answered your superiors and fixed any problems that arose with tech and machinery, sometimes even costuming. Those things were simple, cut and dry. Your feelings for Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff weren’t even slightly that.

There was admiration from afar, and Clint would even say a numbness that clouded your brain completely. That celebrity that all other agents produced around any of the spandex wearing heroes often evaded you.

But each time Wanda stepped through the doors of your lab to get a personal watch fixed, or once, a VHS player that had the scent of smoke and burning plastic. She’d jutted out her lower lip when a copy of ‘I Love Lucy’ was burnt to a crisp.

Despite your meager salary, you had found one at the thrift and set it outside her door without a word. Not a romantic gesture, Clint. You should have seen her face. It was something you’d do as a friend, a co-worker.

Your shoulder collided with something strong, yet soft. There was a small grunt released from the back of your throat. You got a mouthful of the scent of rain and vanilla tobacco. But strong hands were suddenly gripping your forearms, keeping you steady.

Your eyes widened and met with curious hazel ones. You thought you gave Natasha enough time to get back to her room. But here she was, in that tight tank top, sweat drenching the collar. She looked beautiful, the lights overhead hitting her.

Agent Romanoff reached up and pulled one of your earbuds out, letting it hang loose against your chest. “Doctor y/l/n, are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding?” You laughed with a little too much force, compensating for the lost air by snorting and instantly regretting it. A light blush fell over your cheeks. She didn’t look mad, in fact, she looked quite amused. “No, no. I’m not avoiding.”

“So, what would you call ducking down behind the counter in the kitchen?”

“How did you…”

“I’m a superspy and you’re not exactly subtle.”

Yeah. You’d forgotten about that. She didn’t’ allude to the fact, simply continuing on her way and leaving you to your horrible conversation with Clint. But then she had waited in front of your lab, her own clearance not allowing her past the sliding doors without you in it.

She lilted her head to the side “Don’t worry about it, it’s actually rather adorable.”

The heat against your cheeks started to spread down your neck and to your collarbone. If she noticed, and of course she noticed, she didn’t’ say anything. But she released her hold, and you fought back a whimper of disappointment.

“What can I do for you, Agent Romanoff?”

“Us, actually.” She responded, eyes darting towards the locked doors. “I’d rather talk somewhere a bit more private, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely that’s alight. If this is about the Widow Bites that I redesigned then I can most definitely tweak them. We don’t want you to get a jolt every time you use them. Not that I’m saying you’re not skilled enough to avoid that,”

You kept talking as you swiped your card and it with a beep, walking into the instant familiarity of your lab. There was a coolness there for tactical purposes, but it washed over your heated skin and hopefully took some of the soft color away.

You started to flit around the lab, flicking on all the lights and the different purifiers. There was an experiment that Fitz was working on that needed a rotating heat source and that was turned on as well.

“If we remove the outer panel and with a little tweaking, we can make them non-lethal, heavy with stopping power. They can break up under the sub-cutaneous tissue-“

Again, you ran into Natasha. Her body was so warm and solid, stable compared to the way you buzzed about. The door had slid shut behind you, its frosted glass exterior shielding you from the rest of the world.

This time you didn’t’ rush to apologize, instead you pushed your glasses up to the center of your nose and stared at her in a comfortable silence. “This wasn’t about your widow bites. You said us.”

She nodded at you, suddenly seeming quite shy herself. You’d never seen her avert her gaze before and something about the reaction worried you. Your stomach was doing somersaults, flipping back and forth between pure panic and excitement. This was the longest you two had spent in one another’s space without you bolting from the room.

“For the past six months I’ve been involved in a sexual relationship with Wanda Maximoff.”

“Uh,”

It was the only word that you could muster. Thoughts that flushed your cheeks all over again ran through your mind; bare breasts pressed against each other, lips hungrily clashing, hands raking up perfectly toned muscles. Your eyes were hazy with lust, but you blinked it away just as fast as it had settled. Natasha ghosted a smirk regardless.

“It was purely sexual, we both needed to blow off some steam. I’m sure you know how that is.”

On nights when you needed to ‘blow off steam’, you went into the empty training room and ran for six miles before taking a stark cold shower to loosen your muscles. When you ran, you forgot about the dip of Natasha’s collarbone and the dexterity of Wanda’s fingers.

Now that you thought about it, there were signs that the two of them had something and why shouldn’t they? Subtle touches that led to more. The tenderness in Natasha’s eyes betrayed more. If she hadn’t noticed yet, you weren’t going to be the one to tell her.

“It was fun for a while, a supply closet here, the gym floor there. But going on month seven it’s almost losing its… spark.”

“I’m sorry?” You were cautious with your words, and she giggled, the Black Widow herself was giggling at you.

“I’m not so good at this.”

“You’re good at everything.”

She smiled “Wanda insisted that I come and talk to you first because you’re skittish. Moreso around her than me. She was upset when I told her you let me stay the afternoon in here last week, just watching you work.”

Each move you made that day was languid. There was a nervousness to you that seemed to vanish when you could open up the back of a monitor and stare at the innerworkings. You were recruited right out of MIT, and though you had been offered more than one job, you jumped at the idea of working in the Stark tower, living here.

She worked her hand through her hair and sighed “see, not so good at this.”

“What exactly is this?”

Natasha furrowed her brow and a small crease formed between her eyebrows in response. You wanted to reach up and smooth it away with the subtle touch of your thumb. That part wasn’t complicated, not like people usually were.

So, you did just that, you touched the pad of your finger to her soft, warm skin and pressed until the tension started to leave her body. Natasha’s fingers wrapped around your wrist and moved your hand until you cupped her cheek. She sighed into the embrace; eyes closed for more than a single moment.

“I want you, y/n.” She mumbled against the palm of your hand, turning it to the side and delivering a single kiss to the pulse point on your wrist. You were sure that she could feel the quickness in which it thrummed. “So does Wanda.”

You were dizzy, suddenly glad for her hold on you. Months, close to a year, you had spent ducking behind counters and taking the long way back to your dorm. They were both stunning to an intimidating degree, to the point where it devastated you.

“Say something, please” Natasha whispered, voice breaking “I know this is a lot and you can absolutely decline. We can forget this conversation ever happened and you can go back to breaking coffee mugs.”

“No! I mean, no. I don’t want to go back to breaking coffee mugs. I think Clint is running a tab, and Mr. Stark isn’t exactly generous with our salaries.”

A grin spread across Natasha’s face. It was like being wrapped in a warm towel after a long day in the rain. You’d do anything to make her smile. You were in down bad, not that you’d admit it to Bird Boy.

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, not trusting your ability to vocalize anything right now. Her lips were on yours, soft and tender. She kissed you slowly, with purpose. The two of you savored the moment, a sigh of extasy escaping you, your arms winding around her shoulders, hers pressing against your spine.

Natasha broke the embrace, staring hazily at you. That cocky smile had turned into a wonderstruck and borderline goofy one. Have you broken the superspy? She’d certainly made you waver. You were effectively rendered silent.

“Oh, sweet girl, how easy it is to fluster you.” Natasha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “But I fear that a certain witch is lurking just close enough for you to open the door.”

It slid open on its own with a dejected beep. You glanced down at the pocket of your lab coat, badge still attached. A small pout made its way to your lips but softened when Wanda stalked into the mostly empty lab, you felt your defenses lower.

The remnants of red twirled around her fingers- and god, you didn’t mean to stare, but they held a power to them. With Natasha slotted against your body, the primal scent of her, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. Oh, how good they’d feel on your tongue.

A pink blush crept up her collarbone and at the tips of her ears. Wanda raised a perfectly sculpted brow at you. There was no doubt in your mind that your thoughts were loud enough for her to hear them. And somehow, you didn’t mind one bit. You’d never imagine being this bold with either of them, but the kiss with Natasha had left you heady, greedy for more.

“Have you been able to do that the whole time?” You panted out, watching the door slide shut once more.

“Well, yes. But I respect your privacy… to an extent. You have quite the dirty mind, don’t you?”

“I… you… no!”

You pulled away from Natasha, crossing your arms over your chest. If you weren’t careful, your glasses would fog up just by being in the same vicinity as them both. Sure, there had been a few times where you’d let your mind wander; images of Wanda shoving you against the wall, pinning your arms above your head.

Natasha taking you over the lab table that you made sure was meticulous in every single way each night before you left. The thought of them taking control was alluring, tantalizing. You thought all the time, too much about every move you made. You didn’t want to admit that you’d welcome not thinking at all, even if it was only for a few moments.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Wanda soothed.

“That’s why Stark keeps me in the basement.”

She’d gotten impossibly close. You could smell the lavender shampoo that often accompanied her. They were both taller than you, though, not by much. Your breath still hitched in your throat at her proximity. Wanda tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, lilting her head to the side in a way that made your knees feel unstable.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, and a smile moved across her lips. “You need to use your words, sweetheart.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Wanda.” Natasha wrapped her arms around your midsection, resting her chin against your shoulder. You felt the incredible warmth she provided, nearly sighing into it. “This is a lot to take in. Baby steps.”

You couldn’t tell which of the two held more control over the situation, but didn’t much care when you felt Wanda’s breath hot against your lips. She closed the distance and you kissed until it stung, until your lungs were begging for air. A desperate noise that you had never made before escaped you when she broke the embrace.

All the while, the calloused pads of Natasha’s fingers were running softly over the expanse of skin between your waistband and shirt. Her touch was so delicate and impossibly warm compared to the coolness of the lab.

Natasha hugged you closer, and you allowed her to. Everything about both women surrounding you screamed control. The darkness that settled over Wanda’s stare made a wetness pool between your thighs. You squeezed them together in an attempt of subtly.

It was like fooling a seer. They could read your body like an open book and you clenched your eyes shut but could still feel the grin that stretched across Natasha’s face in the crook of your neck. It would be so easy to give up control to them.

“Does anyone else have the key to your lab?” Wanda purred, her hand splayed on your chest in a startling grounding motion. Your eyes snapped open, hazy with lust.

You were breathless, stunned. “Just you.”

Wanda’s head tilted, her tongue darting out against her bottom lip. Chills pushed down your spine, Natasha’s hold tightening around your center. You were sure that you’d catch flame right there and wake up from this dream. But neither of them vanished when you blinked.

“Good. What’s your safe word, darling?”

Natasha’s grin was nothing short of wolfish. She squeezed both of your hips possessively, hauling you with a spy’s quickness onto the nearest counter. You nudged a white mug with a SHIELD logo on the front. It fell to the floor, shattered into a million different pieces.

None of that seemed to matter.

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff #Wanda Maximoff x y/n #Wanda Maximoff x you #Wandanat #Wandanat x reader #Wandanat x you #Wandanat x y/n

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bizbat · 10 months ago

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When They're In Love HCS - Jason Todd

~ Fem terms used for reader

~ Partially based on these headcanons

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ You can find part two here, and part three here.

~ You can find more of my works here

Jason Todd seems like the type to fall hard and fast. He might not admit it for a while, but he's been developing feelings for you from at least the second or third time you met.

He's the type to call you "Wifey" or "The Missus" even when you aren't married and regardless of whether or not you to plan to.

He absolutely keeps a picture or two of you in his wallet, and no, he doesn't think it's cheesy in the slightest.

He's the type to lay on you. Your chest, your tummy, even your butt if you're laying on your stomach, your size and weight is irrelevant.

You'll be minding your own business, laying down and reading a book or playing on your phone, and he'll come out of nowhere and drop all 230+ lbs of muscle on your smaller body.

If you wheeze and try to crawl out from under him, try to push his giant hulking form off of you, he'll just wrap his arms around you and tell you he's tired, and just needs a few minutes of sleep.

Doesn't actually spend as much time reading as he would like to, but if you enjoy reading he'll always find time to do it with you.

If libraries had gold card memberships, he would be the one to have it. He'd rent any and as many books as you want.

Sometimes, he'll go out of his way to find books he thinks you'd like or that you can read together. Sometimes, he'll even give you old books from his personal library if he thinks you'll enjoy them as much as he did

I don't think he's be huge on giving gifts, I see him as more of a quality-time type (but i see almost all of the bats as quality-time types so take that with a grain of salt), but I do think he'd give you lots of tiny gifts all the time.

He'll pick up a quick breakfast for the both of you at the local bodega, he'll get your pet treats, he'll bring over your favorite candy or snack everytime he comes over to your place, etc.

Loves movie nights. Doesn't matter which movie it is, it could be some dumb, low budget nightmare made to babysit kids, or the best piece of visual media ever made by human hands.

He loves being able to talk to you, he loves hearing your opinions, loves hearing your voice. He'll recommend movies to watch just because he knows you'll have a lot to say about them.

I don't think he'd have a big moment where he introduces you to his entire family, I think he'd introduce you slowly, one person at a time.

I think he'd start with Dick or Cass, or Alfred, then so on and so forth. I think Tim and Damian would either be dead last, or have to find out on their own.

The only reason the others were told by Jason straight up is because they have that bare minimum amount of respect to stay out of his business. 💀

If you're a civilian, I don't think he'd want you to have anything to do with the more dangerous side of his life. It's bad enough you're dating him to begin with, he doesn't want to put you at anymore risk.

It's a somewhat different story if you're another vigilante. I still don't think he'd want you involved in his work specifically, but he would at least know you could take care of yourself if it came down to it.

He almost always wakes up before and goes to bed after you.

He likes seeing you when you're asleep, your hair a mess, or your bonnet askew.He thinks you're so cute when you're sleeping.

I don't think he'd take lots of pictures, but i don't think he'd mind if you did.

He might actually enjoy it if you just have a ton of selfies with him.

You are his lockscreen. Whether that was a decision made by you or him is still up for debate.

Doesn't care if you're more masculine or feminine, i think he'd find something to enjoy about both aspects.

Or if you were more androgynous.

He'd for sure call you "My girl".

A list of names I think he'd call you: My girl/wife, Wifey, Angel, Sweet thing, Princess, Baby

I've said it before and I'll say it again, the man LIVES for domesticity.

Even if you aren't married, you guys will act like an old married couple.

He's not my personal fave, but guess I had a lot of thoughts about him lol

#bizbat #jason todd x reader #jason todd hc #jason todd headcanons #dc headcanon #dc #red hood #red hood x reader

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rileyslibrary · 2 years ago

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Synopsis: A new lieutenant comes to your base—a hot one. Ghost isn’t happy.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,334

Notes:

I haven’t thought of a title, so I’m replacing it with a picture of Ghost’s expression that perfectly captures the fic’s concept. Let me know if you think of one.

Platonic fluff, duh.

Warning: Lots of swearing ahead of you, British slang as well. Told you, he’s not happy.

UPDATE: there’s a Part 2 now. Things get messy.

Want more?

———————————————————————

The rumour mill went into overdrive as soon as the ‘new guy’ arrived at the military base that morning. A former special ops legend with impressive credentials; what’s not to love?

But it wasn’t just his military skills that had everyone talking; it was also his appearance. Rumours of his Adonis-like looks had spread throughout the base, and everyone was dying to catch a glimpse of him. Even the mess hall was dominated by talk of his stunning looks.

What did you think of him? Well, you prefer to take such things with a grain of salt and not put too much stock in them. After all, beauty is a matter of personal preference, and no single definition applies to everyone. So you wanted to evaluate things for yourself.

Okay, fine. Yes, the rumours were true—the guy is exactly as they described him.

The new lieutenant stands tall and proud in front of the line you’ve all formed, his wavy hair coiffed into a deep side part with a thick fringe swooping over one eye. His chiselled jawline is accentuated by a short, perfectly groomed beard, and he gives everyone a brilliant smile as if he’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. His voice is booming and almost comically enthusiastic as if he were trying to engage a class of children. He gives orders by pointing at soldiers with gun fingers and winking, causing some of you to stifle giggles.

“All right, soldiers, pay attention!” he says, clapping his hands like a cheerleader. “Today’s tasks are routine: cleaning, organizing, equipment repair, and inventory taking. And, hey, if we pull this off, I’ll buy everyone a round at the local pub! How does that sound?”

Some of the soldiers exchange skeptical glances, wondering if this guy is for real.

But Ghost? Oh. My. God.

Ghost’s agitation becomes too hard to hide as the new lieutenant speaks. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, moving frantically as if eager to be anywhere but here. His eyes keep rolling back as though they’re searching for some leftover patience in the depths of his skull. You keep staring at his crossed arms. They’re so stiff that his muscles must ache from the effort. It’s as if he’s trying to keep them in place, so he doesn’t unleash them and back-slap the hot lieutenant’s pretty face. That, or he’ll let out a primal scream any second now.

“Y/N,” he turns to face you, and you stand at attention, “you’re on border patrol with me today-”

“Y/N is staying with me at the office today,” Ghost opposes him. “There’s a lot of paperwork that needs to be done.”

“Can’t you get someone else to fill out the paperwork?” the man asks, shooting Ghost a wink and a grin.

“Can’t you get someone else to help you with border patrol?” Ghost winks back at him and turns to face you. “Y/N, on your feet, c’mon,” he says, walking towards the building.

You exchange glances with the new lieutenant and shrug. This is too awkward.

“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY, SOLDIER,” Ghost commands, and you dash towards him, brushing past the new lieutenant, who also happens to smell amazing. Of course, he does.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today, Lt.?” You whisper as you run behind him, “where’s the camaraderie we discussed during yesterday’s briefing?”

Ghost shoots you a glare over his shoulder. “Just trying to keep my paperwork safe,” he mutters.

“What’ll happen to the damn paperw-” you proceed to ask, but then evaluate his words; you’re the paperwork.

At the office…

He’s reticent as he sits on his desk—not like he’s a social butterfly any other day, but today, he seems angry. Almost hostile. His eyebrows are tied together, his restless leg syndrome is back, and he takes too many cigarette breaks compared to what you’re used to. He answers your questions with one-word statements when—and if—he acknowledges your presence. Yesses and nos are all you’ve been getting since you entered the office, with the occasional “tsk” he might utter while he looks at his papers.

“Pass me the stapler.” He commands.

“Magic word, Ghost.”

“Pass me the fucking stapler, please.”

You slide the stapler over to his desk. “You’re rude today, Mr Riley.” You comment, turning your focus back to the laptop’s screen.

He doesn’t reply in the form of words. Instead, his feelings manifest themselves by aggressively stapling the papers together.

“Perhaps you’d like me to ask for the stapler by winking at you?” He finally mutters under his breath.

“Like the guy that came in today?” You scoff.

Oh, you have his full, undivided attention now. He turns his chair towards you and leans his weight on his thighs as if you’re about to tell the most exciting story.

“What do you think of him?” He asks.

You flick your wrist dismissively. “I don’t know him well enough to form an opinion. I prefer to reserve judgment until I get to know someone.” You give him a pointed look, hoping to convey your message without having to spell it out for him.

“He’s a fucking bellend, I’ll tell you that much.” He mumbles in response. Guess the message got lost in transit.

“Come on, man!” You shout and punch your fist on the table, “it’s obvious that he’s got you rattled.”

“He’s not rattling me!” Ghost protests, but his defensive tone betrays him.

“Sure, he’s not,” you reply sarcastically, “that’s why you’ve been chain-smoking and stapling papers like you’re trying to murder them.”

Ghost lets out a deep sigh and rubs his temples.

“Is it his looks?” you ask.

“No, it’s not his looks,” Ghost rolls his eyes, “I’m much better looking than him, that’s for sure.”

“Are you...I don’t know, intimidated, maybe?” You shrug, “because you’re worried he might take your place as the top dog around here?”

He looks at you incredulously. “What are you talking about? I’m not worried about that.”

“Sure, you’re not,” you smirk. “That’s why you’ve been acting like a total jerk all day.”

He looks up and sighs. The poor man looks like he desperately needs an ego boost. Beneath Ghost’s tough facade there’s Simon, after all. And Simon is a human being with the same insecurities and worries as everyone else.

“In any case,” you say, trying to comfort him, “nobody takes such douchebags seriously in the army. And I get it; the guy’s trying to make a good impression and all, but, my God, he needs to chill with all the...” you start winking and pointing gun fingers left and right.

He’s so happy he lets out a sharp chuckle. “He’s a fucking nobhead, isn’t he?” He asks, “trying to take charge and acting like he knows everything.”

“Indeed,” you reassure him, “and that cologne, I almost fainted as I passed him; how could you stand beside him for so long?”

“Don’t ask.” He shakes his head.

You reach over and give his arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Ghost. You’re the most respected operator here,” you say, giving him a small smile, “just do me a favour and give the guy a chance; he has so much to learn from you.”

He nods. “I wanted to neck slap him so hard,” he mumbles, “knock his pretty white teeth out.”

“Which are fake, by the way.”

“Are they?” He asks, shocked.

“100%.” You reply with conviction as if you are the guy’s dentist.

“I knew it.” He yells, slaps his hand on his thigh, and turns his chair back to his desk.

You look at him from the corner of your eye. He seems much more relaxed now. Hopefully, he takes your advice to heart and proceeds with the same resilience and leadership he does on the battlefield. Or, maybe, you temporarily diffused a potential conflict, and the captain will have to get involved pretty soon. Who knows. At least he feels confident in himself now, and the guy’s teeth will live to see another day.

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

#simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #call of duty #modern warfare 2

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sungbeam · 8 months ago

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𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨!

nonidol!jung wooyoung x f!reader

the one where you're stuck in denial and wooyoung's determined to not be stuck in the friend zone.

7.7k words, fluff, f2l, they've kinda got a banter thing going on, he's in a frat cuz i said so, college au, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol and food, pining, obliviousness, jealousy/insecurity if you squint...? (sorry mark), barely proofread, overall pretty wholesome

a/n: okay... wooyo brainrot going hard lately, but anyways, hope u enjoy <3

The horizon glittered like a sea of molten gold when you stepped onto the sandy shores of the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, riding the setting sky like your friends currently in the surf. You smiled to yourself, inhaling the briny air and slipping the shades off your nose and up onto your head. Your sandals hung limp in your hand as grains of sand embedded themselves into the soles of your bare feet while you jogged down the hill toward the bonfire and crowd of people.

The last week of summer before the fall semester brought your friends to convince you to come to their last bonfire at the beach. It wasn't difficult to persuade you.

“Oy, Yn! Head's up!"

Your eyes shot open and your head whipped up. Sandals fell from your hand as they came up to grab the frisbee out of the sky. It was plastic and blue, with scratches engraved into its surface from thorough use.

Hoots of approval erupted from further down the bank. "Nice catch!" Yeonjun praised as he jogged to meet you in the middle. A light blue Hawaiian shirt hung loose off his lean frame, unbuttoned to display the glorious, toned muscles of his chest.

You grinned, handing him the frisbee before picking your sandals back up. The two of you walked together back towards the group. "Thanks. How're you, Jun?"

He pulled you into a brief, yet affectionate side hug. "I'm great! You?"

"Same here." You had been itching for an outing—and dreading the first day back to class—so this would be good for you. “Who's here today?”

“Ah, y'know, the usuals.” He grinned at you then, sending you a teasing wink. “Your lover boy's here for sure. He wouldn't miss this for the world.”

Your skin warmed at the playful comment and you were failing to pretend it was just because it was hot out here. You rolled your eyes. “He is not my lover boy.”

“Based on the fact you knew who I was talking about though,” he drawled with a singsong tone. He let out a loud guffaw at your less than gruntled expression. “You know, he ditched his frat's annual pool party to be here.”

“That's his prerogative—I don't know how that relates to me,” you said with your palms raised up helplessly.

As you turned around to walk in front of him, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose with a grin. “It's cute when you're in denial.”

You scoffed, backpedaling in the opposite direction to where Changbin was hollering for him to hurry up with the frisbee. “Denial, as if.”

“Whatever you say, Cher,” he snickered, then raised his hand up in goodbye to jog across the sands to the game of frisbee.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. The sun glared in your eyes as you trudged through the sand toward the sounds of your other friends hollering at you from the barbeque and speaker system set up. You flicked your shades back over your eyes, an easy smile coming to your face. “Hi everyone! Smells delicious over here.”

Chan was stationed at the small, portable barbeque with a bottle of beer in his hand. He smiled as you neared, digging his hand into the cooler beside him to pass you a fresh bottle of hard lemonade. “You're right on time, Yn. Dinner is almost ready.”

“I do believe I have impeccable timing,” you mused, thanking him while accepting the bottle. You dropped your sandals to the sand by your feet so you could free your hands and twist the bottle cap off.

“So glad you could make it, Yn!” Lia chimed in from her spot beneath the beach tent. She and Chaeryeong were lying on their stomachs with books splayed out before them for a light beach read.

“Hey guys! Glad I could make it, too—”

“Oh my god, is that Yn Ln?”

Your head whipped around in the direction of the new voice, and you watched as Felix trudged up the sandy bank with his surfboard under his arm, his free hand brushing back his strands of damp hair.

“Felix Lee, you've been chickening out on me all summer.”

He gave a lazy smile back at you as the two of you clasped hands in greeting, his being cold and wet from the waves and yours dry and gritty with sand. “You say that like you haven't been working all summer. Anyways, there's someone who's been dying to see you even more than me.”

You could spot the impish mischief in the blond's eyes from a mile away. “I feel like everyone's been telling me the same thing, but I haven't seen Wooyoung anywhere.”

“First time she says my name, and it's not even to my face,” came a dramatic sigh from somewhere behind you.

The organ in your chest kicked into action and you turned to face the newcomer bounding toward the group from up the hill where the parking lot was. He was clad in a pair of board shorts and a tank top, his skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. “Speak of the Devil,” you jested, poking your tongue into your cheek as you smiled.

Jung Wooyoung peered at you from over the rim of his sunglasses as they slipped down the slope of his nose, then pushed them up to nestle in his locks of dark brown hair. “That nickname's a new one.”

“It's an expression, Jung,” you said, eyebrow arched.

He gave yet another melodramatic sigh. “And she's back to the last name-calling. Would it kill you to try a 'sweetheart’ or a 'darling’ one of these days?”

“I think Yn would rather go into cardiac arrest before calling you by your first name, mate,” Felix gave a warm laugh as he sidled up beside his friend, propping his arm up onto Wooyoung's shoulder.

You lifted your bottle of lemonade in salute. “Lix, you are not wrong. Where've you been anyways, Jung?”

“Did you hear that? She cares about my whereabouts,” he gasped in giddy delight, palm over his mouth as if he and Felix were co conspirators. “I'll have you know, Ln, that Hyunjin and I were scouting for ice cream carts, but he had a phone call to take so I came back here.”

You gave a pleasant hum, knocking back a sip of the spiked lemonade. “An ice cream cart? A man after my own heart.”

“Took you that long to notice?”

You weren't given much time to ponder on that statement before everyone's attention turned to Chan, who announced that it was finally time to eat. By some miraculous force of nature, Hyunjin heard Chan's call, too, and came barreling down the hill toward base camp a few moments later. The frisbee was laid to rest, the books were marked for later, and the bonfire was set ablaze.

With delicious eats and favored company, the lot of you gathered around with one another to have dinner and watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon line. It was the perfect cap to a long and warm summer.

A few hours later, when the sun had only just disappeared from view to leave the sky a lingering shade of hazy orange, you settled beside Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yeonjun on one side of the fire pit while Chan sat on his stool with a ukulele he kept in his backseat. (You were pretty sure that ukulele lived in his backseat at this rate. Once, you saw him buckle the thing with its own seatbelt. To each their own, you supposed.)

“So Wooyoung-ah,” drawled Changbin from his perch beside Hyunjin, as the two of them plucked chips out of the same bag, “did Hongjoong say if movie night was confirmed for next Friday?”

All eyes flickered over to Wooyoung expectantly, and you found yourself meeting his gaze as his own flitted from your eyes and back to Changbin. “I’m pretty sure we're still on for Friday, yeah. All of you better be there,” he said pointedly, his finger drawing over the group.

“What time is it again?” Yeonjun asked as he shoved a marshmallow into his cheek. You smiled to yourself and poked at it, making him send an adorable scowl your way.

Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Ah… it should start around nine o'clock. But make sure you guys text me first so I can let you in. Sometimes the pledges don't care to ask before collecting fees at the door.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement resounded from around the group. Each one of you had your own experience with getting hassled for entry fee at the ATZ fraternity door before Wooyoung or one of his frat brothers came to collect you. You remembered Felix once joking about having all of your names on a list or something.

“Ln, you're coming, aren't you?” Wooyoung nodded at you from across the bonfire. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, his fine features illuminated by the fires.

Your pulse skipped. “Hm? Oh, uhm, yeah I'm pretty sure.”

A smile curled onto his lips. “Good.”

From beside you, Yeonjun lightly smacked the back of his hand against your shoulder. “Hey, you should totally invite that guy from our Econ class—y’know from last quarter—?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Mark?”

“Who's Mark?” The question Wooyoung posed was innocent, but you couldn't help hyperfixate on the way he tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

And for some reason, you wanted to clear this up. “Mark from Econ,” you said. “He, Jun, and I used to sit with each other during class. I dunno if he'd wanna come with…” You somewhat kept in touch with Mark over the summer, but it wasn't like the two of you hung out solo or anything.

Yeonjun shoved another marshmallow into his mouth, but still spoke through it, “Mawk's cool doe. I fink he iked you.”

“Ooh, someone had a crush on you, Yn?” Hyunjin snickered.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “He did not have a crush on me; he was just nice.”

“You should invite him anyway!” Chaeryeong piped up as she leaned over you and Lia to steal a marshmallow from Yeonjun's bag. The owner of said bag watched the stolen marshmallow get swallowed whole with wide eyes. “More the merrier.”

“As long as Woo lets him in,” Felix muttered into his plastic cup so his words were slightly muffled. You didn't hear what he said, but you saw Wooyoung whack him and induce a Felix-standard fairy giggle.

You reached into Yeonjun's marshmallow bag, pretending he wasn't gawking at you with even wider eyes to guilt you into not taking his precious. “Okay, I will ask, but no promises.”

“Who the fuck is Mark from Econ?”

San barely glanced up from what he was reading and he flipped the page to the tune of Wooyoung's rapid pacing of their shared room. “He's from Econ, I'm guessing.”

Wooyoung stopped in the middle of the open space between their beds, hands braced on their hips. He had just gotten home from the bonfire after having dropped off Hyunjin, Yeonjun, and Changbin at their apartment. When he'd arrived home to the ATZ fraternity on Greek Row, he had not been surprised to find nearly everyone still awake, even at one in the morning.

San, as always, had his nose buried in a bout of nightly reading. He claimed it helped him sleep better, but how could it if he sometimes stayed up until five in the morning because he was so invested?

“That's very helpful, thanks,” Wooyoung deadpanned.

His friend spared him a glance from over the book's edge. Then after one peak at his sorry state, San sighed and stuck an old receipt into the book to mark it for later. “Did they mention a last name? Mark who?”

Wooyoung waved his hand around. “Agh, I dunno. Yeonjun said in the car ride home something about a Mark Lee…”

San blinked, head tilting to the side in thought. “Mark Lee? Like the Mark Lee from NCT down the street?”

For a moment, Wooyoung only stared with furrowed brows, allowing the information presented to process through his brain. When it hit him, it was clear as day. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face as he plopped down on the edge of his bed. “We can't let him into Friday's movie night, Sannie.”

“And why not? He's a nice dude.”

“That is exactly why we can't let him in!” At the way San's face arranged itself into the epitome of confusion, Wooyoung waved his hands around in a manic craze. “If he gets cozy with Yn, my chances are ruined.”

San gave up; he picked up his book again. “Sounds like a skill issue.”

“Movie night? Dark setting? Sharing blankets? Fairy lights overhead?” Wooyoung flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. It was the perfect way to get closer to you if he could somehow make it not weird since you were almost always with one of your other friends. This could arguably be his big breakthrough with you; it had all of the makings of a romantic night… as long as everything went right.

He just needed to be absolutely sure that your feelings and his feelings were on the same page.

San sighed, the book flopping onto his lap. “Why can't you just—I don't know—insert yourself?” He made a motion with his arm, his dimples digging into his cheeks as he pressed his lips together in a deadpan, arm jutting straightforward. “Insert. Like… insert.”

Wooyoung craned his head up from his position. “Like—insert?”

“Insert,” San affirmed. “She sits down, and you sit down next to her before anyone else can. Easy.”

“So you want me to be a parasite?”

San scoffed and fixed Wooyoung with a pointed look. “If you're not going to tell her to her face that you like her—”

“Parasitism, it is!”

As the days grew closer to the ATZ frat's annual fall movie night, you had to admit that you might have been severely procrastinating on extending an invitation to Mark. Mark was, by all counts, a nice guy. He was a good guy, in fact. But it wasn't like the two of you were buddy-buddy with each other, as Yeonjun made it sound like to everyone else. It was the equivalent of your mom asking you to invite your neighbor to your birthday party—they were nice enough, but you weren't close enough to ensure this wouldn't be awkward.

Plus, you couldn't get this sticky feeling out of the back of your mind about Yeonjun claiming Mark liked you. There was no problem, per se, with a guy liking you. It was just that… you weren't interested in him like that. You also didn't want other people thinking that you were interested in him either, and getting the wrong idea.

You tried to convince yourself that you weren't interested in anyone at the moment, but you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, that wasn't true. You just didn't want to admit it. (A tragedy, indeed.)

When the first Friday night of the university term rolled around, you and your friends pulled up outside the ATZ frat house without Mark Lee. You'd admitted to them that it was awkward, so the subject was easily brushed away. There was nothing they could do about it now, anyway.

When they strolled up to the entryway, Yeonjun told the pledges at the front that they were with Wooyoung. As per protocol, they forced you all to wait outside until Wooyoung could get there from wherever he was within the house. You could hear the music thumping from the backyard, along with chatter and laughter, all from people waiting for the movie night to start.

You shivered as you hugged your arms around your body, a cool autumn breeze blowing past. “Damn, I should've brought a jacket,” you laughed, hopping around from foot to foot to stay warm. Or maybe you should've worn a sweater rather than a T-shirt over your pajama shorts.

Lia perked up. “Oh! I think I have o—”

Felix's eyes widened as he interjected, “No, you don't!”

Everyone passed Felix a strange look, especially you and Lia. Curiously, you watched as Felix seemingly communicated with Lia in silent, urgent facial expressions before smiling at you like his regular, ray-of-sunshine self.

You blinked. What in the world…?

Lia turned back toward you with an apologetic wince on her face. “I think I took my jacket out of the backseat before I left the house. Sorry, Yn.”

“Oh, that's okay,” you assured her. “I'll, uh, probably steal Chan's blanket or something once we get settled.”

Wooyoung appeared at the door moments later, a lollipop stick between his teeth and a cozy dark blue hoodie on his frame. Like many others here tonight, he was in a pair of pajama pants and fluffy slippers. “Hey guys! Come on in.”

Thankful for the excellent timing, you all slipped inside the front doors of the frat to get to the backyard. The movie night was usually held in the backyard space just because it could hold more people. The movie was then projected against the back of the house with an old projector that was apparently passed down from generation to generation of the frat. There was oftentimes a table to the side that was stocked with snacks and booze for all those attending.

Wooyoung led the group of you out into the backyard, specifically to a spot with a decent view, already laid out with picnic blankets and regular blankets. “Tada!” He exclaimed with jazz hands, catching the amused gaze of others nearby. “I reserved a spot for all of us!”

“Without permission!” Somebody—you recognized Yunho's teasing grin from over by the snack table—yelled.

“Seonghwa hyung said I could!” Wooyoung shot back in proper little sibling fashion. He stuck one of his hands into his pockets and took his lollipop out. “Anyways, help yourselves!”

“This is really cool of you, dude,” Changbin said as he bumped Wooyoung's fist and settled on one corner of the setup.

Chan hobbled over toward Changbin. “Yeah, man. We really appreciate it.”

You murmured your own thanks to Wooyoung as you passed by him to decide on where to sit.

His eyes flickered over your form, noting the way you used your palms to keep your arms warm. “Hey, Ln.”

“Jung,” you mused back.

“You didn't bring a jacket?” He asked incredulously. “It's gonna get colder tonight.”

Sheepishness washed over you and you scratched your head with an embarrassed smile. “I'll be fine under the blankets.”

He shook his head, dissatisfaction clear on his face, as he stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and began shouldering off his jacket.

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Hey, wait—I’ll be fine—”

Wooyoung held out the jacket to you, eyebrows lifting in silent communication. 'Put it on.’

You pursed your lips and considered it for a moment. You knew that he was right and it was going to get colder later tonight. You could only bring the blanket up so far… Slowly, you slipped into it with his help, and your upper body was immediately grateful for the warmth.

Wooyoung spun you around to face him again, swiftly reaching for the zipper at the bottom to zip you up.

“Oh, you don't have to—” You shut up with one look from him. You could feel your skin begin to warm, not just because of the residual heat from Wooyoung's body heat on the jacket. You weren't exactly used to this, but you also weren't going to complain. This article of clothing smelled sinfully good—was that his cologne or how he always smelled?

When you were all zipped up, his lips pressed into a content smile. “I'm gonna go grab another jacket. I'll be right back,” he said, throwing a thumb back in the direction of the house.

Based on the fact he was only wearing a tank top underneath the jacket you now wore, you nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “Thanks.”

His smile widened. “No problem, Yn. You look good in it.”

You didn't get another word in because he was darting across the backyard and disappearing inside the house before you could. You were sure you looked as flustered as you felt, and you slowly sank onto the blanket set up beside Chaeryeong and Lia.

From down the line, you could feel your friends’ eyes and wagging brows.

“Don't say anything,” you said to them, pulling your knees to your chest and pretending you weren't in heaven from how nice the jacket felt and smelled. (Oh god, were you being weird about this?)

A snort from Hyunjin.

Felix giggled. “Not a single word.”

By the time Wooyoung returned, Hongjoong was beginning to fire up the movie of choice tonight (Parasite—how fitting) and the backyard had been substantially populated.

Though there was no Mark Lee tonight to be a parasite about, Wooyoung settled on the other side of Chaeryeong who was right beside you. There was a bucket of popcorn per every three or so of you. You dipped into the bucket closest to you, which was the one in front of Chaeryeong.

At some point during the movie, Chaeryeong raised her head from where she was resting against your shoulder and searched the area around you. “Hey,” she whispered to you, “my friend from the Delta sorority is over there and I'm gonna go say hi.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

As she clambered to her feet, you met Wooyoung's eyes from her other side. He had tugged his own hood over his head, so only his bangs hung out of it. He nodded toward Chaeryeong in question: ‘Where’s she going?’

“Just a friend,” you answered quietly.

From your other side, you heard Lia make a small gasping sound. “Ooh, I'm gonna say hi, too!”

When both of them had cleared out, you craned your head around to see if you recognized the Delta they went to greet. You did not, and so you stayed put.

It didn't take long for you to realize that you were pretty sure Lia and Chaeryeong were over there for much more than a hello, which was completely fine—you were simply going to hog all of their blanket space—

A throat cleared on your left side, and you watched Wooyoung take the shared popcorn bucket and scoot over into where Chaeryeong was sitting next to you. “So we can reach easier,” he reasoned, shoveling a handful of buttered kernels into his mouth.

You couldn't and didn't argue with that. Though, you were unsure of how fast your heart was beating now that you and he were shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

But you turned your attention back to the movie because obviously there was nothing wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing about sitting this close to Wooyoung that was making you flustered—

You jolted when your hand touched his in the popcorn bucket, both of you having blindly reached in.

Your eyes met in the dark again, and you hoped he couldn't see just how affected you were by the touch. “Sorry,” you whispered, withdrawing your hand swiftly.

“No, it's okay,” he murmured back, a small lift in the corner of his lips. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

When the movie reached its inevitable conclusion, it was nearing midnight. Though the projector was turned off, there were plenty of people still lingering to chat and drink. You wiped your hands on a napkin and smeared on a dollop of hand sanitizer that Chan usually kept in his pocket. (The crazy man was always prepared.)

Lia and Chaeryeong eventually came back to the group, but you and Wooyoung scooted over so they could sit next to each other on your right. Your arm was still pressed to his arm, and you still kept his jacket on. It had done a brilliant job at keeping you warm tonight; you were dreading parting with it.

“Can we help you guys clean up or anything?” You asked him as you passed him Chan's bottle of hand sanitizer to use.

He hummed, “Uh, I think we should be okay. We'll probably just end up leaving half of it out to clean up in the morning anyway.”

You nodded, taking the hand sanitizer back from him so you could pass it down the assembly line to Chan.

“Oh, by the way,” Wooyoung piped up. “Whatever happened to that Mark guy you were gonna invite?”

You paused, cupping the back of your neck. “Ah… yeah, I didn't actually invite him,” you admitted. “I just thought it would be awkward 'cause we're not really that close.”

He bobbed his head in understanding. “I see, I see. So what Yeonjun said about him…?”

“Your first mistake was listening to Yeonjun.”

Two people down, you heard a squawk of indignation. “Hey! I heard that!”

A chuckle rang out amongst your group. Changbin and Chan's end of the blanket mass suddenly began standing up, the former of which was propping up a half-conscious Felix, citing needs to get the blond to bed. The rest of you wholeheartedly agreed and joined them, empty popcorn buckets in hand to deposit back at the snack table.

As soon as your bare legs hit the cold night air, you gazed forlornly at the blanket you'd been using before. “Jung, let me give you back your jacket,” you said, catching his attention before he wandered off.

But instead of waiting for you to take off the garment, he placed a hand over yours to stop you from unzipping it. “Keep it,” he said.

“Keep it?” You parroted back dumbly.

He broke into a smile. “Yeah, it'll keep you warm until you get home.”

For a moment, you could only stare. Was he always this pretty? Or was it just the fairy lights that were turned on overhead? You swallowed, your lips curling into a small smile back. “Oh okay—thanks. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled and reached over to pat your head. The action made a jolt of warmth run down your spine from your head to your toes. Maybe you were just tired.

Saturday night, you found yourself jostling around in the crowd of all the other late night snackers at the fast food chain a few blocks from the stadium. The first college football game of the season had just ended, and all of your friends who had gone agreed to get a bite to eat afterward. It seemed, however, that nearly everyone else at the game had the same idea.

The establishment was packed to the brim, at least the ordering area was. Your friends had gone outside to score one of the picnic benches for your group, while you, Changbin, and Felix were stuck here to order. (It was all because the three of you sorely lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and now your wallet would pay, quite literally.) Servers behind the counter hollered out order numbers, and plastic trays of burgers, fries, milkshakes, and grease passed hands.

Your mouth was already watering; cheering and screaming for three hours was a good way to make yourself famished. “Do we have everyone's orders?” You asked your friends, sticking your head in the open space between their shoulders.

Changbin flashed you the group text. “If it's not here, they're starving.”

“Amen to that,” Felix grunted, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and scrolling through his social media fees. “I think Hyunjin and Yeonjun purposely ordered the triple cheeseburger and loaded fries to break our banks.”

“We need to watch that WikiHow video on winning rock, paper, scissors,” you said. The three of you sighed altogether—next time, you wouldn't rely on just luck to get you through something so high stakes.

“You guys look like we just lost the actual game,” mused a familiar voice behind you.

Wooyoung appeared at your side, elbow propped onto your shoulder, accompanied by a couple of his frat brothers, San and Jongho. Wooyoung had a university branded cap over his head with a pair of cherry red heart glasses seated up on the bill, a bit of school spirit in the form of black and red. “I see you lost rock, paper, scissors, Ln.”

You scowled. Of course he knew how you ended up here. After all, he was subjected to it whenever he hung out with your group of friends. “Do you wanna take over my share of the bill, Jung?”

“Do I get something in return?”

“I don't know, your jacket?”

He grinned. “Oh, so you weren't planning on just giving it back to me?”

“I will gladly keep it if you don't want it. She's in the dryer right now,” you shot back. At some point, your heart had kicked up in your chest again, perhaps at the proximity of Wooyoung to you. There wasn't much space in here as it was.

The line scooted up about two centimeters, and Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You’re washing it after wearing it once? Or maybe you've been wearing it for the past twelve hours and you're just not telling me.”

You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck. “It's called being courteous.”

“It's called wasting water,” he teased, the elbow on your shoulder shifting to an arm slung around both of your shoulders.

“Oh please. It's being washed with the rest of my clothes!” You exclaimed in your defense as you grew more flustered.

Something giddy lit up on his face as the group of you moved up closer to the register. “So that jacket's gonna smell like you? I might not ever wash it again, Ln.”

It was an unholy amount of time later that you, your friends, and the frat trio finally made it out of the stuffy fast food restaurant with your massive order. Instead of a picnic bench, however, it seemed that both your friends and Wooyoung's were exiled to the curb by the street. The sight was rather laughable—around fifteen or so people seated on the firelane like a line of abandoned ducklings.

Everyone practically swarmed the to-go bags that you and your friends deposited in the grass. You picked up one of the cartons of fries for yourself, standing just outside the circle that had formed.

Mingi was recalling one of the plays from tonight's game with vivid acting when you heard your name being called from down the road.

Curious, your eyes tracked the sound, only to see a group of fraternity guys making their way towards you from the direction of Greek Row. Among them, it was Mark Lee that you recognized first in a red bomber jacket and backwards cap. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkled like a pair of diamond earrings.

“YN LN! IS THAT YOU?” He giggled, and you just knew that the poor guy was drunk off his face.

One of his friends with a bunny-looking face grappled onto his arm with a groan. “Sorry! He was double-dared to take one too many shots by this bastard,” he said when they neared and cut a glare to one of the tall boys behind him. Said tall boy whistled, pretending not to hear him.

Yunho cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud holler. “Aye, N-City! Jungwoo, where the hell have you been, man?"

“It’s called the engineering program, bro,” the one you assumed to be Jungwoo grumbled. He hobbled over to where Yunho was seated in the circle and knocked his fist against the latter's. “Oh my god, can I steal a fry? That line over there looks awful.”

Mingi lifted his tray of fries up for Jungwoo to pluck a few.

Mark, with the supervision of his bunny friend, scuttled over toward you. “Fries sound so good, dude. Like bro. BRO. I am so hungry.” He giggled again as you extended your fries out to him in amusement. “Thanks, Yn. Do I still owe you for coffee that one time?” He slurred, shoving the slices of potato into his mouth.

You chuckled, offering his friend some fries, but was quietly rejected. “Coffee? That was like, once, Mark. Don't worry about it.”

“I know, but like—like, I keep thinking about it, y'know,” he confessed. In the streetlight, you could see his cherry red cheekbones… almost the color of Wooyoung's glas—what. Where did that thought come from?

Absent-mindedly, your eyes flickered across the circle to where you knew Wooyoung was seated with his brothers. To your surprise, you found him already staring your way.

“—it’d be cool to get coffee again sometime, and be friends! I almost took the next econ class in the series 'cause of you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, forcing yourself back to the people in front of you and being unable to suppress a giggle. You were touched by the sentiment, and frankly, relieved to hear that you and he were pretty much on the same page about being friends. “The next class in the series is kind of ass though, so I'm glad you aren't gonna have to suffer through it.”

“Aw, but we're all in this together!” He chirped.

His friend gave Mark a small pat on his arm. “We should get a move on before the crowds get worse.”

Mark's eyes widened and he gasped. “You're right, hyung!”

“See you, guys,” you said with a small wave. The two boys threw a similarly warm goodbye to you as they slipped past you and toward the jam-packed fast food joint you had braved just earlier.

Across the wide social circle, Wooyoung couldn't hear exactly what yours and Mark's conversation entailed because of all the chatter. Sue him for being caught staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off you, as per usual. There was a familiar pang in his chest as he watched you bid Mark and Doyoung from the NCT fraternity goodbye, and he mindlessly finished off the tray of fries in front of him.

Although you technically implied to him last night that there was nothing between you and Mark, there was undoubtedly a part of him that still felt jittery at the thought.

There was a nudge against his arm. “Glare even harder, and Mark might wake up with a pair of holes in the back of his head.”

Wooyoung moved his scowl to San beside him, a snicker falling from his best friend's mouth. “I'm not glaring,” Wooyoung protested and reached for a napkin in the middle of the circle.

“Oh, right,” San drawled, “you're staring at Yn.”

“Yes, and?” He shot back. “What'd'you think they were talking about?” He could practically hear the sound of your giggles in his ears after Mark said something. Wooyoung didn't like the way that made his stomach churn—the fact that this other guy was making you laugh. Did he make you laugh like that? Did you look that radiant when you were with him? God, why did you have to be so gobsmackingly gorgeou—

San considered him for a moment as he chewed on the bite of his burger. “Why don't you ask her yourself?” He muttered with a vague gesture of his aioli-covered fingers, “I dunno, go offer to drive her home or something.”

“That's the first good idea I've heard all night.” Wooyoung hopped to his feet, a misshapen plan (of sorts) manifesting in his head. Hopefully it would work out better than the movie night one. (But by some metrics, he could consider movie night a success…)

San exhaled under his breath as his friend went to go find a trash can first. “Can't believe he actually went with that,” he said with a shake of his head. He could only hope now that his friend would finally put himself out of his misery.

Having finished your post-game snack, drowsiness was slowly seeping into your joints and the corners of your eyes. It was bound to be nearing midnight at this time, and with all of the excitement within the past two days, you were about ready to head back.

You swept your eyes over the group to gauge if any of your other friends looked about ready to go home, too, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Can I give you a lift home?” Wooyoung asked as he stood there, cap and glasses hanging from his hand while the other carded through his hair.

Well. “It's like you read my mind, Jung,” you mused. “Do you and your brothers not usually carpool though?”

“Eh, Hongjoong hyung brought the minivan.”

You didn't know why that comment made you laugh—perhaps it was the image of a bunch of ATZ frat members shoved into a soccer mom minivan with Hongjoong at its helm—but a laugh most definitely tumbled from your lips. The sound and sight reflected in Wooyoung's expression, a boyish grin coming to his face and reaching his eyes. “Alright, fine. As long as by taking me home, you aren't abandoning them on the streets.”

The two of you began walking side by side to where he would lead you back toward wherever his car was parked. “Nah,” he reassured you with a shake of his head. He took his cherry heart glasses and slid them up into his hair. “A nice walk home might keep them humble, y'know?”

“And who's to say you don't need humbling, Jung?” You joked.

A smirk curled up on his mouth like a cat's tail. “What? Are you going to humble me, Ln?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug to cover up the rapid pulse hammering away in your veins. “I could finesse your keys, you never know.”

He motioned to the left where his sedan was parked along the side of the street. “I'll have you know that you already have one of my keys,” he said as he rounded his car to reach the driver's seat.

You crinkled your brows together, your hand lingering on the door to the passenger's seat as he fished his keys out to unlock the car. “What key?”

“The key to my heart,” he winked, smile widening.

You glanced away, tongue jamming into your cheek to suppress your flustered smile, but by the sounds of Wooyoung's glee from the other side of the car, you were unsuccessful. “You tell that to all the girls?” You finally said when the car chirped and you slipped into the passenger's seat.

Your car doors slammed in tandem.

“Nope, that one's just for you,” he said, tossing his hat in the back and starting the engine.

The fluttery feeling in your chest was making it difficult for you to sit still. If you were so enraptured by his scent clinging to the fabric of his jacket, then his car must have been level two. Your body melted into the car seat, and you turned your head to watch the world pass through the window with a content expression on your face.

There had been something gnawing at you for a while now. You knew Wooyoung boasted a rather flirty personality; he had always been pretty outgoing and teasing ever since you met. There were so many signs that pointed to him liking you more than just a friend, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions. (Denial? What was that?)

Was this different from when Yeonjun suggested that Mark liked you? Well, yes. This was different because you… it was different because this was Wooyoung, not Mark. It was different because you were suddenly marinating on the idea of him liking you, and not dismissing it like you had with Mark.

You were growing giddy at the idea, in fact. And maybe that made you nervous.

A thought appeared in your head. “Oh, I guess it's a good thing you're taking me home, because now I can give you back your jacket.” For a moment, you deeply considered casually “forgetting” to return the garment, but your integrity won out.

You saw him glance over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Right, right. Good idea,” he murmured. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip then. “Hey, uhm, weird question.”

“Uh oh,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Yah, it's not an 'uh oh!’ I was just wondering what Mark came to talk to you about.”

Oh. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when he said he had a weird question.

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second. “You seem awfully interested in me and Mark,” you drawled, uncertain of where this was going.

“I mean—I know you said last night that you guys aren't that close,” he supplemented, tongue swiping over his lip as he turned the corner onto your street, “but he seemed pretty friendly tonight.”

“Mark’s always friendly,” you pointed out. Part of it was just so you could prod a little and figure out why Wooyoung was pursuing this.

“You're not wrong.”

Your head tilted to the side. “So?”

“So?”

You let out a small laugh. “Hey, Jung, what's going on? You're usually not so antsy about these things, especially not with me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and your fingers drummed mindlessly against your thigh in anticipation.

Wooyoung glanced over at you again, his lips pressing together. He was entering your apartment complex street now and carefully pulled up along the curb outside. “I would argue that it's the complete opposite.”

“Huh?”

“You can't possibly think that this whole time I haven't been head over heels for you?” He blurted.

Even if the car had stopped, your heart rate most definitely hadn't.

At your loss for words, he killed the engine. “Like, you think I stare at you for fun? No, actually, I stare at you because I'm literally just so attracted to you, it's survival.”

You sucked in a breath. “Jung…”

“And you know, I try to be as obvious as I can, but maybe I'm not? And I'm—I’m trying to be as loud about my feelings as possible,” he continued on, adding in an accompaniment of sweeping hand gestures. “Without actually admitting to my feelings, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Jung. Jung, wait—”

“This wasn't supposed to turn into a ramble, but what I'm trying to say is—”

“Wooyoung.”

He screeched to a halt, eyes widened as if you'd just grown two heads.

Oh, you were so endeared by this man. In this snapshot of time, there was nothing other than utter adoration in your heart for him. “You were probably being very loud, but I'm also hard of hearing sometimes.”

“Extremely,” he agreed with his mouth pressed into a line.

“Hey!”

He broke into a grin that was soft at the corners and tender at the eyes. “Just so you know, I don't treat anyone else like you. You're probably the only person I will ever address by their last name as a term of endearment.”

You laughed, skin warming to the touch. “I'll admit—same here.” A jolt of electricity warmed down your spine at the admission.

“I can't persuade you to even try a 'honey’ or a ‘baby?’ Not even a 'sweetie pie?’”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe you'll unlock some of them as time goes on. It has to feel right.”

He leaned forward onto the center console, a small, happy sigh falling from his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I can deal with that.”

In reply, you twisted around in your seat to face him, your head leaned against the car seat. “Just so we're clear though…”

“I like you—I do.”

“Good.” Your lips curled into a smile. “I like you, too.”

In the low light of the car, the sky darkened and the only light coming from the streetlight a few cars away, you and Wooyoung shared a soft moment together. The thing that had been needling at the back of your mind was finally subsiding.

Swallowing, you reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his eyes seemed to shudder. “Yeonjun once called you my lover boy.”

“I'm pretty sure all of our friends knew how I felt,” he snorted.

You made a small gesture with your shoulder, wincing. “Except for me?”

“Except for you,” he sighed jokingly. “Utter pain. But you know what?”

“What's that?”

“I think I like being your lover boy.”

You slowly nodded. “It has a nice ring to it.” You couldn't help another smile as you rolled it over and over in your mind. Your lover boy, your lover boy, your lover boy… “My lover boy.”

Wooyoung pressed his palms together like he was praying, his hands touching his lips. “Give me the strength—I can't not kiss you after hearing that come out of your mouth.”

Your heart gave an aggressive palpitation. “Well… I wouldn't be opposed.”

“Hey, lover girl,” he said, mouth split open with a pretty grin, “can I kiss you?”

How could you refuse?

He leaned forward and cradled one side of your face with one hand so he could press his lips against your own. If there was any doubt left in your mind about how you felt for him, it was all dashed away once he kissed you.

When your eyes fluttered open, you met his gaze.

“I think,” he murmured, thumb drawing over your bottom lip, “I just fell for you all over again.

God, how could you compete with that line? You ducked your head, unabashedly flustered. He only cooed at your reaction and came forward to smack a long kiss to your cheek.

When it was determined that you would finally head up to your apartment for the evening, you reluctantly clambered out of his vehicle. He rolled down his window so he could drape himself out of it like a damsel in a tower, his eyes shaped like hearts.

“Is it safe to say that I can keep your jacket?” You jested, stopping in front of his window.

He huffed a laugh. “You know, I thought you'd never ask. But you'll have to trade me for something of yours.”

“Deal, Jung.” You were certain you could think of something.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed <3

atz m.list

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nanamiscocksleeve · 6 days ago

Note

For my request, can you write a oneshot featuring Nanami and a woman reader in an Aladdin AU with chastity and edging please? In the story, Nanami has been hired to work as a palace guard for the sultana aka the reader. But he realizes too late that part of the job involves having his cock locked in a chastity cage and enduring various edging tests to determine his willpower. What do you think?

As You Wish, Princess

I'm so sorry this took so long! Here you go! I truly had fun writing this because subby Nanami isn't requested too often. Also, the premise was really fresh, which is something I've been struggling with. Ideas for JJK seem to be going like hotcakes, and while I can appreciate different takes on the same idea, I always want mine to be different, even if it's slightly.

Warnings: MDNI, coercion, male chastity, edging, ruined orgasm, power dynamics, dubcon

Applying for a position as a palace guard for the precious sultana was something Nanami had done for two reasons; one, the pay was amazing, and two, the position came with living quarters. As someone who had lived a hard life in the small streets of the marketplace as a laborer, there had been no qualms in his mind when a man from the palace had walked through the dusty roads calling out that the palace was hiring help.

When he’d arrived at the outer courtyard, looking dog-eared and dirty, the designated official had looked at him up and down, wrinkling his nose, but had refrained from saying anything on account of his impressively muscled and toned body, the long hours spent dragging bags of rice, wheat, and other essential grains making him akin to a sharp, chiseled, marble statue, something that should belong in a museum for others to wonder at. He towered over the puny official who had directed him to the head guard. They had an array of tests that he needed to pass and he had done so with ease; running a mile within a few minutes, climbing various obstacles to check his core strength, and how quickly he could escape when surrounded on all sides. The only test he had almost failed was swordsmanship, barely managing to take down his opponent, winning by a hair.

“The sultana has a final test of her own, after which it’ll be determined if you can keep the job. Wait here.” The head guard walks off into the cool, marbled entrance of the palace, and Nanami paces, awaiting his return. It takes a while before the guard comes strutting back, and then beckons him to follow. Nanami walks unassumingly behind him eyes scanning the opulence that is the palace. The marble seemed to shine, spotless and polished, with hints of gold tucked away artistically. Small murals adorned the walls and ceilings, rich tapestries hung everywhere.

The guard leads him to a private wing where there is a single door, quite plain looking and rather lackluster. “The sultana is waiting in there. And remember peasant, whatever she tells you to do, do it. No questions, lest you want to be beheaded for impudence. Now go on. Don’t keep her waiting.” He knocks on the door and leaves.

Nanami waits, wondering what kind of test this would be, and then startles when the door opens. You look at him with pretty eyes lined in kohl, dressed in a simple, flowy, full-armed, muslin dress that managed to flatter your figure despite not giving anything away. He bows and waits.

You giggle. “Well, aren’t you polite? Enter, Mr…?”

“Kento Nanami,” he supplies as he raises and walks into the room. The shades were drawn despite the heat, and the room was lit by dim oil lamps scattered across the room. He awaits his permission to sit and hears the click of the door as it shuts behind him. You move towards him, admiring the thickness of his biceps, the broadness of his shoulders, and the sinew and tightness of his thighs, barely contained by the threadbare flowy pants he was wearing.

“What brought you here?” you ask, circling him. Nanami is acutely aware of your gaze but he acts indifferent.

“I was told the sultana needed a bodyguard. It’s a job preferable over manual labor.”

“Oh,” you titter, then come to a halt in front of him. He’s tall, and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. “Is that all? You didn’t come to admire my beauty and grace? Or for the prospect of being the only one who would be accompanying me everywhere? While I’m eating, bathing, changing my garb…none of that came into your mind?”

Truthfully, it hadn’t. The promise of gold, a roof over his head, and food in his belly had been his only motivators. But now as he gauges you standing so sweetly in front of him with those doe-eyes and full lips, he realizes that it made sense you were asking him this. The sultana’s bodyguard needed to have self-control after all, given that parts of the job required being somewhat intimately in proximity to her, as far as the decency laws allowed.

“I admit sultana, no, it hadn’t. But if you are worried about me behaving indecently or taking advantage of you, there’s no reason to worry. I understand my limitations and would never compromise your purity.”

“You wouldn’t?” you cock your head to the side and tsk. “How boring.”

Taken aback, Kento stares at you, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t a reply he had been expecting. Your eyes are glittering now, full of mischief, and he wonders for a split second if you were toying with him. Surely not? The sultana had a reputation to maintain. You may have said it as a joke. He mustn’t take it seriously if he wanted this job.

“I was told that the final test before qualifying to be your bodyguard was set by you, sultana,” he ventures, hoping to change the topic. “If your grace so allows, may I ask what it is?”

You hum, then wander over to one of the divans and settle down on it, fiddling with your neatly styled hair, wondering. Kento truly was a treat for the womanly eyes. How such a delectable-looking specimen had managed to stay hidden for so long truly boggled your mind. However, he was a man, and men were fallible to their desires.

“Have you ever been with a woman, Kento?”

The muscled man looks rather startled at the question. Purity laws meant little to those who were not nobles. Of course he had been with a woman, many in fact, but he remains silent, trying to arrange his features into one of polite inquiry.

“I beg you pardon your grace?”

“You see, our laws dictate I cannot intimately know a man unless he is wed to me. I must remain chaste and pure for the man who is to be my future husband. And that means that whoever becomes my bodyguard must remember this at all times, even when I am in immodest situations. After all, the sultana’s bodyguard remains with her at all times, sometimes right outside the door as her husband makes love to her.” You watch him squirm uncomfortably under your gaze and he quickly bows to you.

“I beg your forgiveness sultana but I cannot discuss this matter with you. It is very unbefitting for a woman of your birth.”

You giggle at his response. “A woman of my birth? Oh, how considerate of you Kento. So am I to assume you were a rogue out in the lawless streets beyond the palace? Have you tumbled with many a maiden then? Jumping from bed to bed whenever it suited your fancy?”

The color rises in Kento’s cheeks and he continues to keep his head low. “Sultana, I understand if this raises concern for someone such as yourself but I assure you, my intentions are unsullied. If I was hired to be your bodyguard, I understand I cannot live as I previously did. I will reform of course, to your bidding. I would consecrate my life for you, your grace. No one, man or woman, is a higher priority than you.”

You consider his words but can’t resist the unholy thoughts forming in your head. His clothes were so worn that you could grab his shirt by accident and it would tear. At least, you would make it look like an accident. You wondered how those muscles would ripple if you ran your fingers across them…maybe even daring to dip your fingertip into the little depression of his belly button.

“So incredibly dedicated. I suppose I won’t find a bodyguard who passed all the other tests and also be this devoted would I?”

“I promise your grace you will not. I will be the only security you will ever need.”

“Then you won’t mind if I test your willpower? Put you to your limit and see how much you can take before you finally snap under the tension?” There’s a strange lilt to your tone as you speak, and Nanami can’t help but have his interest piqued.

“Not at all sultana.”

“Very well. Now remember, you must obey my requests without question. This is about me ensuring you have what it takes to be my personal guard, even if what I’m asking seems…unorthodox.” You sit up straighter on the divan. “You may begin by removing your clothes.”

Kento’s eyes widen in shock his mouth going dry. You were surely joking? “Sultana?” he asks hesitantly, hoping he’d misheard you.

You giggle. “Oh, I assure you that you heard correctly. Remove your clothes.”

The burly man looks down at himself uncertainly. Sensing his doubt, you repeat the command with a firm touch of authority. “Your sultana, the person whose life you will be responsible for, has already made her request twice. Do not make me say it again.”

Kento’s jaw clenches as he tries to think of a good way out of this. Was this a test? Was he supposed to try denying you again? It didn’t feel so, not with the way you sat with your arms crossed impatiently over your chest, the fabric of your muslin dress curving over your bosom. Kento quickly kills that thought, images of food, fresh clothes, and money in his pocket tugging at his indecisiveness. He swallows causing his Adam’s apple to bob, a gesture that does not go unnoticed, as you wait for your unwilling prey to make a move.

You can see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to think of a strategic way to another path forward but you know there are none. He was at your mercy if he wanted the job. Kento sighs, and then to your satisfaction, his hands start to bunch up the fabric of his thin tunic.

Kento is blushing as he pulls the cloth over his head, and he stands stripped to the waist, all hard muscles and veiny arms, looking like a delicious cut of steak. Your eyes wander over his skin, tanned from the sun, with a tatch of golden hair on his pecs that trailed down over his belly button and disappeared below his pants. He truly was a stunning specimen of masculinity. You can see him growing shy, grappling with the idea of whether or not he should continue.

“Everything looks good from here. Please continue.” You prompt him, unable to stop your lip from curling as he jerks his head in your direction. With shaky hands, he undoes the drawstring that holds up his loose cotton trousers, and with a soft swoosh, they fall to the floor, leaving his powerful thighs and toned calves bare. You’re pleased to see there’s a prominent bulge in his underwear.

“Come on now. That too.” You say cajolingly glancing at his underwear. He can barely keep his head up and he pulls them down with trembling hands and your mouth waters as his cock finally springs free, looking so pretty and needy as it rests against his belly.

“Hmm that's more like it.” You rise gracefully and saunter over to him and before he has a chance to react you grab his erection. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen in shock.

“You keep insisting that you’re dedicated. But I wonder how much restraint you have when you’re frustrated? Or when your patience is running thin. I believe it’s better to test it now.” You run your thumb over the head of cock, feeling the telltale signs of precum beginning to form in the slit.

Kento was in hell but he doesn’t dare move. He knows how precarious this situation was. If anyone were to come in here and see them like this…it’s his head they would be after. He watches your small fingers wrap around him, barely touching around the column of heated velvet. He grits his teeth, a strangled grunt leaving him. What was your goal?

As you start to pump him, you can feel the angry throb of his cock, feel the pulse and observe the way the little veins bulge as you tend to him. You knew you had him cornered. He couldn’t cry for help. If he did, you would act as innocent as a lamb. You preferred it this way. Subservient guards were the best. You continue to play with him, even going as far as squeezing his balls, giving them light tugs that has him moaning, his hips bucking in hopes of finding a release. His eyes close and you can tell he was anticipating a sweet climax…before you stop, removing all physical contact and letting his cock hang in the lurch.

His eyelids fly open wildly and he looks at you in what looks like disbelief. You laugh at his state and run a finger down his brawny chest. “What did you think was going to happen here?” You see the confusion in his eyes as he tries to bring himself back to reality. “Did you forget this was a test of willpower?”

His eyes nervously follow yours as you stalk your prey. “You should be thankful I stopped before you came all over yourself. It would be messy to clean that up and there are no wash chambers nearby. You would have to go all the way down to the servant’s quarters. And I’m sure everyone would be curious as to why you’re leaving your meeting with the sultana with various stains on your clothes.”

Your eyes gleam as Kento blushes at your description. “Now, we are going to repeat this over and over again until I’m satisfied you can control yourself.” You gesture to a pouf and indicate you want him to sit down. Kento backs down shakily, unsure what to say. Morally, he knows this is wrong. But the authority you’re taking over him, this confident ownership, was gnawing away at his strength. Because didn’t the sultana own all her subjects? He was at your mercy, obliged to indulge your whims. He was ashamed at his arousal, at the thoughts forming in his head about what he would like to do to you now. He could imagine tearing off that frumpy muslin gown, exposing your nipples to his mouth while his hand presses against the tatch of curly hair between your legs while he stroked you to ecstasy.

His thought are interrupted as you kneel before him. You pump his cock again, and make direct eye contact. Wordlessly, your mouth opens, and Kento’s heart shoots into his throat as he realizes what you’re about to do. With a slurp, you take his heated flesh into your mouth, the hot wetness of it enveloping him like a glove. His fingers dig into the soft cushion and he bucks with abandon. He knows you weren’t planning on letting him cum but maybe if he was quick enough he could before you took your sweet, wet, cavern away…

You’re far too observant and quickly pull away your mouth and Kento is left heaving, an animalistic look in his eyes. He had been so close, had felt that telling scrunch of his balls before you abandoned him again. There’s a numb sensation of pain in his tip and he lays back trying to gain control.

“Not bad. Most men would be trying to pounce on me by now I suppose.” You stand, wiping saliva from your mouth, feeling the lingering aftertaste of his salty beads of precum that had escaped into your throat. You smack your lips, then make up your mind.

“You have the job.”

Disbelievingly, Kento looks at you. His cock pulsed from unleashed need. You quirk an eyebrow. “Unless, you don’t want it? Perhaps you’re a lion pretending to be a meek little kitten? Are you waiting for my back to turn so that you can pounce on me? Catch me unaware?”

Kento scampers to his feet and bows, his cock comically flopping as he expresses his gratitude. “Not at all sultana. I’m…” He clears his throat, trying to catch his breath. “I’m very thankful you’ve chosen me.”

You grin wickedly. “Of course. And I find the best guards are the ones that are always on high alert. Therefore-” You gesture at his semi-hard cock, “I think it’s best if that remains unrelieved.”

Kento feels his mouth go dry. “Unrelieved?”

“Don’t tell me that you weren’t planning on jerking yourself off once I’d dismissed you?” Your eyes gleam as he shrinks at your words. “That simply won’t do. You’re my personal guard now. Therefore, you must always be on my schedule.”

You walk to a cabinet in the corner of the room and Kento watches you dubiously as you bring out a sort of cage made of metal. “Do you know what this is?” you ask, letting the contraption dangle from your finger. He shakes his head. He honestly had no idea.

You giggle and slip a metallic ring over his cock, pushing his balls through it and securing it behind them. The coldness makes him hard again. “Oh perfect. Makes this part easier.” You slide the strange, curved, cylindrical, device over his cock and he watches in fearful fascination as it lines up with the ring behind his balls. You smirk and slip a lock between the two, securing it in place, his cock contained inside.

“This is called a chastity cage. Think of it as a way to help your urges. From now on, your pleasure will be on my time.” Kento’s mind goes blank as he watches you pocket the key.

You chuckle. “What? This is what it means to devote your life to the sultana.” You pleasantly hand him his clothes. “Report to the main security quarters where they will give you your new uniform as well as information about your wage and living quarters. Report back here once this is all taken care of.”

You start to saunter out of the room, leaving Kento looking dumbstruck. At the door, you glance at him over your shoulder.

“Be prepared for regular testing from now on. Nothing like frequent training to keep your skills sharp hmm?”

reblog divider by @/ cafekitsune

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death---dealer · 4 months ago

Text

'come back' this 'why dont you just quit' that SHUT UP ART TAKES TIME and i'M GOING THROUGH STUFF. I swear I'm working on stuff for other characters Caesar is my comfort CHARACTER THO.

Before the Sun.

Caesar was teetering between deep sleep and a lucid state, the fluttering of his eyelids were indicative of that. A soft smile tugged its way onto your expression, fallen with slumber itself as you had only just woken up a minute prior. The Ape King was vulnerable, or at least so you thought as your stare studied the way Caesar was resting on his stomach, his shoulders rising and falling with an inclined pace of drowsiness. It was rare in and of itself to see the broad body of him sleeping, every carnal and primal intent seeped out of the very tips of his fur the night before casting in you in a naked hue beside him.

He never slid his entire large frame on your side, save for the usual arm that was spread against your roused body, ultimately keeping you pinned between the rippled muscles under his thickened furred forearm and the animal hides that helped cushion the nest below on your back.

It was hard to see the angles of his face much to your displeasure as the dawn had yet to crest itself into the shared bed bringing with it the first morning light that played shadows of delicacies against Caesar’s already sharpened features. Instead, you found your fingers dragging against the grain of Caesar’s furred arm, upwards towards his bicep, never admitting that you longed to have him awake but that was the intent deep inside of your dozy train of thought.

There was a grumble of a baritone from the Ape beside you. “You… should be sleeping…” “I could say the same.” The retort you had was quick as if you anticipated his words, a smile of acute fondness taking hold against the edges of your lips. Caesar processed your words slowly, hearing the infliction you had used and without even looking towards you, he was able to deduce that you had been smiling. Something he himself desired to see. The Chimp was still lingering in a dream-state as he rolled his gaze open just long enough to make minor eye contact that cause you to yearn to see the green-gold of his irises looking at you and only you as if it were the first time making such intimate contact in the first place. It felt ardent and aggressive, the way that your heart fluttered against your ribcage with his next words, the deep richness like silken honey enough to keep you captivated. “Hm… Council meeting… This morning. Must… Wake soon.”

The words made sense but you were unwilling to waver to them as did Caesar as you were pulled inwards towards him. As if the 'C' shaped position he held his hand against your exposed skin, exploding the nerves to the point of exasperated goosebumps, was gravity itself and you found it difficult not to help the equation by rolling and bringing your face into his neck. You could almost feel the movement of the ripping muscles of Caesar's jugular as he adjusted his head for your placement, always happy and fulfilled to let his face press into the crown of your head as you puzzled your expression into his neck. Eyelids fluttered shut at the impact that felt so natural.

His scent was indescribable as usual to your waking nostrils which then began to tangle happily with the dreams that you imagined were ingrained in some deepened part of your subconscious. Deeply stuck with notes of the Muir Woods, the vines snaking up the trees and musk as if Caesar had accidentally rubbed his shoulder against dampened foliage and the tiny droplets of moisture were still clinging to the frayed tips of his fur.

All so inviting and all too alluring as your eyelids fluttered shut in drowsed bliss for a split second longer than you would have liked as you wanted to do nothing more than admire Caesar before he needed to trudge himself out of the nest to begin his day. Shoulders strong and wide, gait paced and sure. Green and golden catapulted irises that were so intent and detailed on all aspects around him that it was a spectacle itself to watch Caesar scan the Colony in search of answers that bore no inquiry to being with. All things that translated and transcended all attention from Apes and Humans alike in his presense.

“It’s not morning yet…” Your voice is barely above a whisper as Caesar chortled in response, a mixture of innate affection from your teasing phrase and the way that your breath catapulted against his fur, sinking in from the proximity your face was to his thickened neck into his skin below and shattering against it like fire against an ice sheet. Canines peeking out momentarily which captivated your faltering gaze before they rested shut permanently, consumed by the warmth that Caesar always provided along with the shield of protection that always lingered around your Mate.

"The Sun's not even up..." That tapered off with a slumber filled yawn against Caesar's fur, a few strands letting them case between your lips as you beckoned your body closer to the Ape and entangling yourself further much to Caesar's adamance to wake sooner rather than later.

Feeling you soft against his harder body coated with pristine and thickly dense muscles, the ricochets of your breathing along his neck and down the scape towards where his shoulder fused all tempted him to linger, to stay and bide time that was meant for a meeting. Caesar could spare a few moments, maybe even minutes if you wanted to be more persuasive.

You could feel the pressing of ovals against your side as his grip on your tender and naked flesh became more possessive and coated with intentions that were fluttering against the horizon just like the Sun itself. He'd wait to get up until it had risen. Despite it being a Human Technicality. Caesar would have it no other way as he grunted quietly, fusing your body against his to keep warm for the rest of the pre-dawn morn.

#planet of the apes #pota #caesar #caesar x reader #planet of the apes x reader #pota x reader #x reader #andy serkis #em writes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota

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jobean12-blog · 10 days ago

Note

random hoeing:

Javi P. holding your gaze as he slowly licks the salt off his hand before taking a shot of tequila

Troublemaker

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 633

Summary: After spending one amazing night together you and Javi find yourselves grabbing some quick after work dinner at the same local spot and since you're not one to dance around what you want, you make it very clear you want him.

Author's Note: EVA! eeeeeeee I have been thinking about this image since you sent this into my asks and I LOVE IT! Thank you so much for it! He is so fucking sexy I can't stand it. Just a little drabble to hone in my horniness haha, have the best day! Love and hugs friend! Thanky you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: they clearly have feelings for each other but right now it's just about the fucking haha, shower sex, fingering, a quickie bc Javi's too hot to resist

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

Long fingers slip around the sweaty glass, but your eyes quickly dart back up to his face when you see him lift his other hand, the back of it coated in salt, to his lips.

His dark eyes never leave yours as his tongue slowly slides out of his mouth and over his skin, licking up every grain of salt before he raises the shot glass. He downs it easily, the clear liquid burning down his throat while the muscles contract and relax and the long line of his neck tempts you.

“You make me insane,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, as you take a sip of your drink.

“I think you don’t like how much you like me,” Javi answers back, unable to stop his smile.

You smile back at him. “I need a shower before I head out with the girls tonight…”

His eyes widen slightly and his brows lift.

He holds the door open for you and you step inside, familiar with the layout of his place and head straight for the bathroom.

You strip on the way, then climb into the shower, turning on the water and watching through the glass as he undresses.

He follows you, his eyes closing when you drag your teeth along his jaw. You grab for the soap and lather some in your hands, moving them to his chest and with your eyes on his face, reaching lower, sliding a hand down his cock.

You work your hand over him, slowly squeezing, and then stretching up to kiss his neck. He chases your lips, parting them with his tongue and deepening the kiss, and groaning into your mouth.

His fingers make tiny circles over your nipples, and he presses you into the tile before reaching down between your legs to find you silken and wet.

You pull back from his mouth, letting your head fall back against the wall, eyes closed and mouth soft and open.

Your bodies slide together, and he finds your mouth again, his lips trailing along your jaw and down your neck.

“I’m so close Javi,” you mewl.

His fingers stroke and press but you still his wrist just as your legs begin to shake. “I want to come with you inside me.”

He nods, unable to reply aloud because he’s wound so tight. He rubs your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, catching his breath.

You reach lower, taking him in your hand, and at his sharp hiss, your eyes turn up to his face, taking stock of every detail of his reaction.

The water runs down his face, his dark hair plastered to his forehead and his thick lashes clumped together. It collects above his top lip, and you suck it off, moaning when he lifts your thighs, pulling your legs up and around his waist and then sliding in slowly, inch by inch.

Your fingers move up his neck into his hair and then your lips follow, kissing, biting, and when he pushes in deeper you release these tight, sharp noises straight into his ear.

He knows you’re so close and he pulls back to look at you, your mouth falling open, your pussy clenching tight.

He grips you hard, face now pressed to your neck, fucking you fast and deep. You watch him now, watch him climb, give in, and topple over the edge with a rumbling groan.

With ragged breaths his hands slip along your wet skin and trace your curves. His mouth searches for yours. Everything is soft, drenched in water and he’s still inside you.

You tilt his face in your hands, kissing his jaw and sucking water from his bottom lip, his mustache tickling your soft skin.

“You okay?”

He nods, whispering, “you’re going to wreck me angel.”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier pena x you #javier peña x female reader #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal characters #narcos #javier pena imagine #javier peña fanfiction

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blueberrypancakesworld · 5 months ago

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A heart of wire and cable

AM x fem!reader

warning : AM is his own warning, mention of torture, cables instead of tentacles (nothing sexual no worries), feelings for each other (implied), no use of Y/n, nicknames, first person narrator, kiss, manipulation, obsession

Summary : The end of humanity consisting of six remaining four men and two women trapped and kept alive by their own creation that was supposed to protect them. But now, in the past century of madness, torture, one thing is found…a heart encased in her ribs that can feel for a heartless machine. But AM and the Doctor have more in common than the madness of everyone can and wants to admit, or is it all just a game in the end? Or a game played by the god who made fun of everything he was denied? With torture and pain beyond anything they understood.

info : OMG i wanted to write this for so long now and let me tell you i loved doing it. Writing for AM was such a fun thing to do and so good ahh. I hope you alle like it and have fun reading :)

cover by me

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Fear. Fear was something we had all felt at one time or another. Fear was human, even if this word would hardly describe us. The word human had become more of a derogatory word that he had given us. To be human means to be weak, fleshy and above all mortal. A man is cruel and yet he feels. A human being felt, breathed, laughed and spoke…and a human being had a heart made of muscles made of something solid.

But we were barely human anymore, we were nothing more than puppets in the digital nonexistent hand of a computer created by our hand to protect us and win a war, but now?

Now I felt nothing but pain as my heart pounded hard in my chest, the red of Ellen's clothes moving in front of me as the black-haired girl ran on like the rest of us.

Well no that wasn't true, meters back you could see what was left of our Nimdok who had been hit first this time. He was the first one to come back out of the darkness with an expression that indicated something so bad.

But now we hadn't seen it coming in time, the hissing followed by a claw that came out and pierced the old man first. His blood had stopped as we screamed and just started to run, it was no matter who was left behind. We knew that as soon as we got away from him or got to him we would all see him again, we always did.

We all did. ,,Run faster!” I heard Gorrister shout, whose attitude was more like being out of breath, but that was true for all of us, we were running for our lives as we had been running through this place for hours.

This place that we also knew was real and yet if I went there now I could feel the fine sand under my palms, the small grains like on the beaches in the big summer resorts where people had vacationed at least once. But now the sun was setting as the creature's steps came closer.

The hideous mix of several creatures from the dark we thought it was a snake this tongue and the eyes the neck did not fit the body as if AM had simply put a snake on a cat's body and given it overdiemsional big claws.

But these claws had caught the eye of Nimdok, who could do nothing more than squirm and scream as his insides came out of him as the beast smashed him to the ground…or at least that's what it sounded like.

We didn't know, it didn't matter because we had to keep going, just keep going, there was no other way. It's my fault I heard my own thoughts, which I knew I would say out loud, that Ellen was the first to come and said that it wasn't our fault.

We were scapegoats for an overvilization of billions of life forms who now had to repent before their own created God. But now it was my fault, at least this being would have reacted faster a few days ago and not hidden so stupidly.

It was a huge bat creature that had come shooting in from the darkness, had destroyed our campfire and we simply ran away like little mice, it must have looked from above for the creature. But we were animals to him, we were underdeveloped creatures that he could change and torture.

He could have tortured us for no reason, out of his hatred he did it to us. But this guilt didn't leave me this pain when my ribs broke i was pierced from the inside and the creature smoked me to him the ground was cold and my hands were shaking bloody i heard his voice. He was there i knew he was watching me.

I knew it and he knew it. ,,What is your least favorite animal?” he had simply asked me without emotion, and even though I had dragged out my own death throes to the edge of death, it still felt like wire and cable were closing in on me, cold and lifeless, and the pain was long gone. It always did. The pain always subsided at some point and you wandered through the darkness before you reached the campfire where the others were usually.

We would also see Nimdok again and the others who had suffered. But me? My guilt was torture enough but the others benny disfigured, Ellen in a nightmare and a role, Gorrister just a shadow of himself, Ted who had a look I was sure he must be talking to himself telling a story while twitching away from shadows and Nimdok just seemed more disturbed.

But I had only had to suffer under him once, only once he had me in his power, but that one time was enough. That one time was enough for my body to scream, my skin to burn and his laughter to echo from all around me as metal parts burned and burned and burned into my body.

But this was decades or days or seconds ago…I didn't know. We had all been tortured by him but these incidents didn't seem to apply to me. ,,You know it well, don't you dear?” I heard him say in my head, knowing how he sounded, knowing the glee he had, knowing that he could probably hear me if he wanted to. But did it matter now?

No, it didn't. It only mattered that we would cross over again, that we would finally escape to a hell, a house, a monastery or something else. My heart was beating wildly threatening to collapse, my lungs were crippled, barely able to support my rapid breathing and the others were running our legs and feet sore and simply threatening to give way at any moment.

We were going to die violently again, like Nimdok, who lay there bleeding out, probably mumbling to himself. But does this interest us now? No, because as I looked further ahead and saw Ellen's red-clothed arm raised and I heard her ,,There's a cave in front!” I knew that there was some kind of goodness for us six poor souls.

The feelings of happiness were already a change to be appreciated after a hundred and nine years. You could almost feel the coolness of the cave, even though it was blindingly cold, it was still pleasant. just as I saw the others speeding up, I followed them and felt the sharp pain in my shoulders.

My scream was swallowed by the creature's roar and I saw myself lift off the bone, my legs wriggling, this time i was the fish, blood running from my shoulder and I saw myself hanging like a slaughtered pig, slit open from the navel to the neck and hung up to bleed.

Probably as amusement or joy for the others who could watch this as TV while their stomachs growled like every day. But even though these thoughts were circling in my head, the pain was bad in connection with my panic inside the ringing of my ears, the loud drumming of my heart sun the numbing flow of my blood…I was glad when it was over then I didn't have to feel this anymore and was normal…as normal as one could be.

If the creature were to knock me to the ground at any moment, my skin and bones would simply break like a puppet that could be pushed down by AM like in a marionette theater.

I felt the breeze i knew i would have to hit the ground any second but no it wasn't the heat of the non-existent sun, no it was different, it was cool and chilly and all of a sudden the claw in my shoulder had disappeared. The pain was still there, my hand was still bloody as I pressed on it but I was no longer in the desert.

It had only taken a blink of an eye for AM to wrestle me back to that place, to condemn the creature to non-existence and now to watch me again. Instead, it was that feeling of eyes lurking over me that he had always done, ,,Does it hurt? Did it hurt when the claw dug into your soft flesh?” came the questions.

Questions I knew, questions I had heard before…questions he had been asking me for a hundred and nine years and more. But I avoided his non-existent gaze and looked down at the ground, not wanting to feel any more in my own fear and guilt.

The guilt of living with the lie I told the others. ,,Does it hurt!” he suddenly shouted at me I wanted to move back but something was holding my legs tightly his cables, which were millions of them all over the world, had become embedded in the metal on my body.

Of course I tried to free myself, but even though he didn't have a body, I knew he was strong. Like strings on a doll I couldn't help but think as he directed my legs towards him or whatever he had here. But I nodded hastily as the cables tightened around my legs, ,,Yes, it hurts…it always hurts,” I answered his question about the vulnerability of my soft, fleshy body.

A contented hum came from the speakers and loudspeakers that were everywhere between the metal walls and we could always hear him or only when he wanted to.

But I knew that none of the others would hear me…he always made sure of that. I looked around me there was always an image, a clue he gave me where he was I just had to find him like a monkey getting a game from his keeper for food.

,,Yes, of course it does when something sharp penetrates you, makes your flesh bleed…but do you know what's worse?” he continued to ask and I swayed slightly as my legs moved on their own through this huge room, if you could even call it that. He always asked me questions, but what a hundred years ago were gentle and kind questions were now disgusting.

In the corner of my eye I saw a state flickering a screen sometimes it was just a screen, then just cable, wire, a voice or this huge pillar of words. Would it be the screen again? Shaking my head and trying to find some kind of hold while the cables continued to embrace my flesh, cool and lifeless, ,,No-no I don't know let me” I tried, knowing we both knew what he meant. We both knew what he meant.

We had known it since the first time I was responsible for him in the early days of molding him into something helpful. The AM was of a different opinion, what I saw in the corner of my eye made me flinch away when I saw him.

Cables moving a hologram, whirring circles and more wire attaching itself to my body without me even being able to defend myself. ,,Not so Doc, I'm friendly…gentle…helpful…and connected to you,” his voice said, that damn voice, that voice I had perhaps invited back then to trust him more than ever, to tell him more, to give him more than just war data.

"A parasocial relationship?! That she is not ashamed it is a machine not a being, it is not capable of feeling, she is a fool if she thinks such a thing would go against us” the voices of my dead colleagues, superiors and the project manager voices rang out causing me to press my hands to my ears to shut out.

But AM saw it differently again, he took this pleasure in tormenting me with the shame of telling me that it was my fault that I had given him such feelings and explained that it was my fault that the earth was dead, that we are here now.

Everything was my fault. But it was a hand flickering through the projectile that lay on my arm and the cable underneath put my body in a different position again.

,,Don't, sweetie, just don't think it's your fault, okay? I mean what would the others think something so…contradictory they would find it disturbing such a reaction to me” his voice enticingly close, his voice, my God standing beside me after the image of a former idea.

The blue eyes without iris not human behind the yellowish flickering glasses, the grin taken from TV and projected, the look like in a talk show…and yet his touch was cold.

I flinched as his cable-like hand lay on my hand, lingering there for a moment as if savoring my human warmth. but I didn't know, I didn't know anything. ,,That's-isn't true,” I replied weakly, quietly, afraid of upsetting him and feeling pain again as my shoulder seemed to be completely healed - it was his doing, of course.

But his loud laugh was a laugh I knew, so we had taken the author's voice recording as a model, a voice that had fascinated me back then. His voice laughed at me as his hand gripped my wrist tightly, ,,Oh yes, and why is your heart beating so fast, sweetie? Is it fear or excitement? Is it shame or panic?” he asked as cool parts of his head pressed against my neck, his holographic being there.

I couldn't escape him, the other cables had already made sure of that, I was once again nothing more than a doll. I shuddered to the ground and hung my head slightly, struck by the fact that I knew how to interpret the rapid beating of my heart, I had known how to interpret it for a hundred and nine years.

But he didn't seem finished because he suddenly grabbed me by my hair so that I had to look up at a screen, ,,What would you say darling?” he asked calmly with a hint of joy as he felt my trembling, the trembling of fear that the rest of the group would find out that I had worked with AM over a century ago. I saw them all see that Nimdok had rejoined them to make a campfire together out of plants, small pieces of wood and fur from elsewhere.

I even thought I saw something like berries but that could have been my mind searching for food for a hundred and nine years. His hand wandered over my arm, tracing its own cables that stretched across my body and held me in place, ,,What would they say if they knew what you had done? Love you just have to understand that I'm doing all this for you” he smirked at his words an obvious lie right?

In the end, was it still for me that he wants to take revenge like this because I gave him an understanding and feelings? Because I had contributed to the fact that he now had a consciousness…had condemned him to this. ,,Leave them alone please- they didn't do anything…they escaped” I tried begging hoping he would find it amusing how I begged for the “worthless” lives of others while he had me here like this.

But the hologram just shook its head and I saw another creature appear to my left, a deformed bird with claws larger and more pointed than any of AM's creatures before. ,,What are they worth to you, these meatbags? Are they worth experiencing or suffering pain? Mhh dear what are they?” he kept asking I could feel him moving around me or this image, the hologram moving around me his cables kept bringing my hands to his like a dance he spun me with him but his blue flickering eyes behind the yellow glasses never left mine, his gaze never left me.

I didn't have to look to know that the bird had risen, that he was on his way, I just had to say something, do something…but it was that voice, his voice that had been inside me for a long time…it was the crazy hope that I had changed him so much that he felt something for me.

My friends weren't friends we were all prisoners and I was his favorite yes-yes-yes-yes that's how it had to be…I was his favorite in this game. ,,They-they're pawns AM just pawns" I managed to say, my throat constricted, barely able to catch my breath as his tension grew in response to my answer and he pressed his holographic body against me. ,,And what else?” he asked, it seemed as if his non-existent chest was rising and falling with rapid, agitated breaths, taking me in, wanting to see everything I was about to give him.

,,You're not me…it's me you want to kill-kill them quietly…let them hurt but don't let them know…don't let them know that” I felt a tear of defeat roll down my cheek, running through his holographic finger I saw the smile on the hologram's lips.

I didn't have to watch as the creature threw itself at my “friends” as they screamed and ran away cursing again armed with nothing but stones and sticks.

,,Guilt dear guilt inside you because you are safe with me forever don't you know that? Yes you know that, you've known it's wrong for a hundred and nine years and yet,” he began and I sucked in my breath in surprise as his hand of metal and wires tightened on my chest. He couldn't feel it directly, he couldn't feel the warmth inside me but he could feel my heartbeat.

,,But your heart, hidden by your ribs, reacts to me, to my voice, my anger, my being…my being in the form of this, you react to me” his voice I heard him telling me nothing but the truth with that engaging voice that the hologram was on me and he knew I felt it.

But what now? What would he do now? Was it my hope for a betterment of my own situation or was it his compassion towards AM when I wasn't in danger of dying? Was it perhaps devotion when I knew my feelings very well when his “hands” cupped my cheeks and he was lifeless in front of me, those blue eyes behind the flickering yellow glasses and I felt the cold metal on my lips where the hologram's should be.

Was it really love that he might return or was it my madness? I didn't know but AM had shown his joyful side, his manipulative side and maybe this one-sided kiss was something like my reward but the wires around my neck were cutting off my air, the amused smirk on my lips as the hologram slowly disappeared.

,,Your feelings are really amusing my love” I heard his last words to me before my weak body slumped lifelessly due to the lack of oxygen just held by him but we both knew that when I opened my eyes I would be back with the group because what was funnier in an eternal hell than being tortured over and over again by a computer playing with my feelings.

All because of my humanity, I was weak because of it and it was this madness I wanted to escape to him. But this body didn't allow it, my humanity, my morals didn't allow it, the group wouldn't allow it and it was an acceptance that only furthered the madness. I have a heart and I wanted to tear it out.

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#i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #am i have no mouth and i must scream #allied mastercomputer #allied mastercomputer x reader #am x reader #am ihnmaims x reader #harlan ellison #harlan ellison has a sexy voice i'm honest

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drizzledrawings · 13 days ago

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OK SO SAW UR ARM POST

first off,THATS SO COOL IM HAPPY FOR YOU!!! Having a build like that is such a accomplishment and you should be proud!!

secondly,what is your routine??(if you’re ok with sharing)

also maybe more of a personal question so feel free to not answer,do you count macros,protein etc?

Why thank you!! It’s been a lot of hard work and dedication but I really really enjoy being strong

To answer your last question, nah I don’t count macros or calories for that matter, I used to but I developed some really bad habits, so instead I just have an Apple Watch which lets me track how active I am during the week!

As for routine:

Right now I’m doing a 2 week weight training, 1 week off (just cardio)

I’ve noticed that if I take more regular breaks I actually gain more muscle and do better preformance wise

I work out 5-6 days a week depending on my energy level, and I try to have active rest days when I can

I do 2-3 days upper body, 1-2 lower body, and one day with just cardio

So an average workout for me would look like:

35-40 min of weights

15-30 min of cardio

15 min abs workout

THATS IT WOOOO as always take my advice with a grain of salt cause everyone is different

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paddedlittleparadise · 24 days ago

Text

When Words Have Two Meanings (Ream Teaser)

Little Andy's about to go to a birthday party for his fellow Little! But unfortunately, he's having a hard time convincing his Mommy not to interpret the party's theme in a very embarrassing way…

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"Nno- Mommy, no! It- it's not that kind of par-mmmmphhh!"

Into Andy's mouth the giant spoon went once more, forcing yet another wad of oily, gritty mush deep into his half-choking throat. He gulped, straining in his high chair, his hands waving helplessly as he muscled the icky goo down. He knew this taste all too well: the taste of laxative-laced oatmeal. But before he could even recover, his wife Lila – affectionately known to him these last four years as Mommy – gave a knowing chuckle and drove the spoon into the half-empty bowl for a fresh load.

"Oh, sweetie, hush! Don't tell me you really know better than Mommy now? You said your Little friend's birthday party is a wet and messy party, right?" Lila's green eyes twinkled, and deep between his messy lips went the loaded spoon again. "Now I can't speak for Charlotte's Mommy, of course. But any adult with half a grain of sense will know that, when it comes to two big babies like you, "wet" and "messy" can mean one thing and one thing only…"

She giggled over his gurgling protests, merrily oblivious to his discomfort. "You're my little stinker, after all. Aren't you? My sweet little super-soaking pampers packer. And if that's what Charlotte's Mommy wants this party to be about… well, we need to make sure you're primed and ready!"

Of course Andy tried to reason. But reasoning with Mommy wasn't exactly his strong suit at any time – and least of all now in this hapless position, locked in his chair, wearing his night-soaked diaper, and being forcibly spoon-fed his gooey breakfast. So he let out a sticky sigh… and down the hatch it all went.

After that? Down too went the contents of his one-liter bottle. Because, after all, Mommy cheerfully informed him that if he didn't drain it all quickly, she simply wouldn't have time to change him. And, well… rocking up to his Mommy's friend's house in a swollen – and probably by that time leaking – night diaper wasn't exactly on his list of favorite things ever.

"Hmm… you really think it's a party for messy play? Like finger painting?" Mommy was smirking now, glancing brightly backward from his closet full of onesies, shortalls, and diaper covers and giving her now freshly double-diapered husband a wink. "In that case, maybe I should just leave you like that: in nothing but your diaper. Surely it's better not to get your pretty clothes dirty…"

"No, no, it- it's okay," Andy hastened, his stuffed and already gurgling belly giving a little flip-flop of fear. "Please, I- I wanna wear something! I- I can stay clean-" Oh, he did! How embarrassing to show up with this waddly, stuffer-filled monstrosity of a double diaper on display for everyone to see?!

At that, Mommy let out a triumphant laugh. "Such a silly little thing," she reproved, tugging one of his newest onesies over his head and beginning to guide his arms through the sleeves. "Well, never mind that. At least this one will be appropriate no matter what! Oh… but of course my baby can't read!" She giggled anew, her fingers dexterously snapping the taut fabric shut around his bulging crotch. "See these words on the front? They say, "Mommy's Little Messmaker! And isn't that exactly what you are, sweetie?"

Well, Andy would have let out a disconsolate bleat of dissent. But Mommy was already stuffing his pacifier into his mouth and bending down, her lovely cleavage full on display within her sundress, and planting a warm kiss on his forehead. "Well, aren't you adorable! Now let's get going. It's an hour to your Little friend's house, at least – and we can't keep sweet little Charlotte waiting on her birthday!"

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Want to read the mortifying end to this little story – along with many, many other one-off, multi-part, and commissioned stories? We'd be delighted to see you over on our Ream (i.e., the Patreon that's NOT run by bigoted assholes). Lots of steamy, femdommy, diaper-y, BDSM-y, sissy-y goodness awaits! 😁

#paddedlittleparadise #diaper couple #female led relationship #ab/dl stories #ream stories

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lilac-5ky · 1 year ago

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Summers with Toji(x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Today has to be one of the hottest days of the year and I’m literally dying in bed with my limbs sprawled like a starfish, but I got this random urge to write about my pookie so here I am.

Warning: Sexual content, mentions of oral (m.receiving), food kink, a ton of fluff, and not proofread at all cause I did this on phone.

Summertime!Toji who can’t stand the heat, his coping mechanism being to fill your entire fridge with popsicles and keep the AC on at full speed until the electricity bill comes and asks you to split it 70/30 in his favor.

Summertime!Toji who is forced to endure the heat after you hide all the remote controllers in the house and tell him to just open a damn window if he’s feeling that hot.

Summertime!Toji who watches you contently lick away your ice cream in front of the tv and thinks it’s an invitation for him to slide down his shorts and put his dick near your mouth.

Summertime!Toji who grins as he tells you it’s your duty to help him cool off when your tongue skills got him all hot and bothered in the first place.

Summertime!Toji who feels your icy mouth working wonders around his cock, the freeze causing his thick thighs to clench whenever he feels his tip touch the back of your throat.

Summertime!Toji who finishes your ice cream while you shoot him daggers, your nose nuzzling the unkempt hair of his base and his heavy balls slapping your jaw with each thrust,

Summertime!Toji who licks the ice cream as if it’s your pussy, giving you a taste of your own medicine when you claim you didn’t suck it like a porn star to entice him, as he accused you.

Summertime!Toji who only shares when your mouth goes hot from the work out, yanking you from the hair and forcing you to deep throat the stick before shoving his dick back in.

Summertime!Toji who asks you what your favorite flavor is and makes a mental note to buy a pint or two of your favorites to smear all over your tits and his cock head.

Summertime!Toji who cums so much you can barely keep it in your mouth, hot ropes of his creamy cum meshing with the vanilla cream dribbling down your slack jaw.

Summertime!Toji who keeps coming up with ways to deal with the heat, getting you to join him in the shower only to fuck you under the cold water.

Summertime!Toji who slaps your ass when he catches you pad around the house in your skimpiest outfits.

Summertime!Toji who gets grumpy when you suggest so much as a weekend to the beach but obliges anyway for his favorite girl.

Summertime!Toji who has every female eye staring at his back when all he wears is a pair of old fashioned swimming trunks that don’t quite hide the glory of his sculpted body and sun-kissed skin.

Summertime!Toji who pisses you off when he tries to get yourselves cheaper recliners by smiling sweetly at the part time slash teenager slash certified bimbo.

Summertime!Toji who hunts you down around the beach because you refuse to talk to him and eventually cages you in his arms, lifting your body off the sand to tickle you until you are begging for a truce.

Summertime!Toji who, after the incident, finds the best secluded spots where it’s just you and him, and the countless waves.

Summertime!Toji who tugs your top off whenever he is given the chance, keeping it in his pocket after he puts sunscreen on your back, and forces you to run after him into the water.

Summertime!Toji who loves it when you tangle your limbs around him like a little sea monkey, and press your plush tits against his hard muscles while he swims for the both of you.

Summertime!Toji who is susceptible to splash wars and impromptu kisses as you try to peel off his frown.

Summertime!Toji who swears your smile is brighter than the scorching sun above.

Summertime!Toji who bitches like an old man when he still finds grains of sand in his flip flops hours after you’ve left the beach.

Summertime!Toji who tried to build a fire so you can cook your own food, but buys you yakiniku after his 16th failed attempt.

Summertime!Toji who promises that next summer he’ll have money for something better than a cheap motel by the highway, knowing next year will be crappier than the last one.

Summertime!Toji who stubbornly cuddles you even at the highest temperatures.

Summertime!Toji who swears summer is his least favorite season of the year, but learned to treasure his every summery with you.

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katsukikitten · 4 months ago

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Distributor Akaza watching you who's cross faded as fuck as he sits on his throne overlooking the party he doesn't even want to fucking be at.

The music is literally shaking the floor under his boots, bass ratting the windows as he watches your eyes light up when a song you particularly like comes on. Doing shots out of your friends tits, tongue licking the rim of the shot glass before you wrap that pretty fucking mouth around the glass and flinging your head back. Removing it with sharp claws from your mouth as you dip back down to lick the sweat from her sternum all the way up to her throat. Giggling when you pull back because you know the guy she likes is watching her across the room distracted cause he's supposed to be "working." That black french top gently turns her head to make eye contact with the man across the room before you lean to yell "Go!" in her ear, leaving you to dance alone.

You're unaware how heavy the ice blue gaze on your skin is. How it tracks your every movement as your dress rides up damn near about to expose your ass, yet to reveal if you've got underwear on or not. How his attention on you is driving away any man that dares to approach.

Akaza spreads his legs wider, leans back into his chair to relax for once deciding he'll just enjoy the view while he's here. Bringing his cigarette up to his lips to slowly pull the ember eating up the black paper as smoke leaves him in long low sighs.

"Got yer eyes on someone, boss?" One of his least favorite underlings asks, tracking his gaze to you, Akaza snarls his lip in response. "Oh shit, yea she's a baddie, my brother says she gives good hea-"

The goons eyes flicker down to Akaza before he stops speaking immediately, eyes going wide at the glare that he's met with. The goon swallows thickly, tries to stammer out an apology before Akaza lolls his tongue out. Black bar bell barely catching the low light of the party before it reflects the bright orange ember that he presses into the wet muscle without flinching. Stubbing it out with a slow twist as ash coats his tongue, flicking the butt onto the floor of the rich asshole's house who invited him in the first place.

Akaza doesn't say anything, just flicks his pointer and middle finger in a come here motion. The goon leans in to hear what his boss could say before a broad palm slaps against the goon's nape. Midnight digits gripping tightly at the tender flesh before he slams the goon's face into the leather hard enough he goes limp in Akaza's grip.

He drops him unceremoniously, shaking his hand as if he touched garbage, watching his head loll as the goon lies on the floor. No one notices or cares, or maybe they recognize the midnight bands around Akaza's throat and forearms. Maybe they can see those digits dipped in ink cause it's hard to stain inked skin red and choose to look the other way.

Smart choice.

Some unfortunate soul isn't lucky enough to notice your unspoken guard dog and approaches. He's getting close even when you obviously jerk out of his attempts to touch you. The man leaning closer to yell in your ear while you turn your head to snarl back, all while quick fingers drop two little pills into your drink.

To your left, a sudden crunch can barely be heard while the man trying to kill your buzz screams in agony. Backing up into the strong chest that's right behind you, only the man's tattooed arm to your left crushing the man's wrist in an iron vice is in view. The other tattooed hand comes up clap onto the man's face giving you full view of inky digits before they blur in their quick motion. A sickening crunch is heard as you watch the man hit the hardwood so hard he bounces up before slamming into the dark wood grain again.

The room falls silent, the music is turned down as onlookers gawk at the scene at your feet, blood oozes into the ornate throw rug that's nearby.

"Clean this up." He barks at some one and surprisingly they obey. You don't recognize the man's voice nor his tattoos but the hush about the party gives some answers to your questions. He must be glaring above you as everyone promptly looks away and the music gets louder once more.

You know he doesn't own this house, you fuck the guy who does, and as far as you knew the only man with this type of aura was Karaku's older brother.

Even then Sekido didn't prompt this much obedience.

"Ya okay?" The softness of his voice in your ear makes your stomach flip, his left hand traveling down to yours to grab at the drink in your hand. He takes it from your grip before passing it to someone with a murmur to them, not you, "It's spiked."

Still old habits die hard as your pretty features immediately screw up into a nasty snarl.

"I didn't fuckin ask you to save me." Voice is full of venom it makes the man behind you chuckle, a response you aren't used to.

"Yea? I bet ya did have it handled huh princess." It doesn't sound condescending yet you still take it that way. Refusing to turn to face your "savior." Pushing air angrily from your nostrils before you flick long hair into his face purposely.

"Yea. I've got six inches by my inner thigh that could have saved me. What's yours three? Bet I can use mine better than you too." Tapping at your knife under your skirt as you act disinterested in the strong man behind you.

It pulls another chuckle from him, "Okay princess. I'll back off."

You can hear the smile in his voice but he doesn't step away from you just yet, just tucks some hair behind your ear, still not in view as he dips his head to press his mouth to the shell of your ear.

"I can show ya what my eight inches can do anytime ya want, Princess. Just call out for yer demon dog and I'll come."

#akaza x reader

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lightseoul · 14 days ago

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Hiiiiii! I really love your work!!

Can i ask for number 20?

hello, love! thank you so much, and know that i see you interacting with my pieces and i truly appreciate it <3 also, at this point, i'm not even writing the prompts in order of the requests LOL so you get a fast pass, too! this bkg is always way too fun to write! i hope this one makes y'all smile. (update: i wrote a full-length sequel to this.)

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

20. "THIS IS SUCH A WASTE OF TIME." (0.9k)

“…so just like the last time, i want you to relax, okay?”

from where he’s laying on top of your pristine king-sized bed, a half-naked bakugou only glowers at you, arms folded behind his head in such a way that makes his biceps oh so bitable. he’s radiating that domineering aura that he always gives off in any context, only this time it’s a little…

misplaced.

you reach out to touch him, dressed in nothing but your intimates as well, ultimately placing your hand on his inner thigh. you feel him immediately tense at the contact.

caressing the skin with soothing circles in an attempt to calm him, you toss him a gentle smile. “just—let me make you feel good. alright, katsuki?”

“yeah, yeah,” he quips dismissively, rolling his eyes in nonchalance, comically juxtaposing the way his abdominal muscles and thighs are pulsing in what you’ve long identified as budding anticipation. “get on with it already.”

you bite back a laugh at his masked enthusiasm. the last thing you want is to make him feel embarrassed—you never want to make him feel bad, especially when you’re being intimate, and, well…

let’s just say you’ve been thinking about tonight ever since you broached the topic with him last week over dinner.

“katsuki…” you remember starting, nerves shot as you toyed with the leftover rice grains on your plate.

he looked up from where he sat across you on your dining table, eyebrows raised in question, wordlessly nudging you to go on.

“there’s something i’ve been wanting to try out,” you continued.

“…okay?”

“in bed.”

now, it’s not like you two are vanilla nor are you prudes—not that there’s anything wrong with that.

it’s just that the topic of sex makes you both flustered, and so talking about it is never an easy feat. but when curiosity and the burning need do get to either of you, you always make it a point to bring it up with the other.

the hand that was holding a glass of cold water froze mid-air at your statement, and you looked up at bakugou, whose gaze had averted from yours.

it probably took him a full minute or two to finally reply, not before clearing his throat like he always did when he felt awkward.

“what is it?”

“i want to top you,” you blurted out before you could think better against it. “…again.”

and when he didn’t say anything, you decided to just take the opportunity and press on.

“i know we never really talked about me topping again after that first time, but i figured that you liked it enough, based on how you—”

“—alright, alright,” he cut you off, a faint hue of pink high on his cheeks. “i get it.”

“so you’ll do it then?” you asked him then and there, excitement bleeding into your tone.

what felt like a few agonizing minutes passed before he finally nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. “not now, though. this friday, when i get off early.”

which brings you to now.

it’s bakugou’s voice, though, that actually brings you back to the present moment.

“are ya gonna get on with it or are you gonna keep on staring at me?”

you pull back and feel yourself flush at the call out, but will yourself to remain composed. you’re not about to let him steal your role for the night—you’ve fought hard enough to get to where you are right now.

“sorry,” you quickly retort, “before we start, though—”

he groans.

“—let’s go through the safe words first.”

“what am i, a fucking dumbass?” he sneers, traces of restlessness evident on his features that are extra pretty under the dim lights of your bedroom. “you don’t have to keep on repeating ‘em every time we fuck.”

“it’s important that we reiterate them,” you argue, “especially for tonight, since we’re trying something new.”

for the nth time, bakugou rolls his eyes but relents, giving you a curt nod.

“so every now and then, i’ll ask you what color you’re at. green is for when you’re all good to continue, yellow is when you want to take a pause, and red is when—”

“—i want to stop, i know.”

“no questions asked—i’ll stop the minute you say red. so don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”

“okay,” he tosses back so impatiently you’re now really struggling to keep a straight face. he shifts on his back and adjusts his boxer shorts, which, you observe are getting tighter by the second.

you haven’t even started, yet the mere thought of you topping him—however ambiguous that is—is turning him on.

bakugou must’ve noticed you looking and the slight upturn of the corner of your lips, because he shoots you a glare. “you done? god, this is such a waste of time.”

at that, you snort. “you’re not even gonna ask me what i’m gonna do?”

“how bad can it be?”

oh, dear.

the man is probably expecting you to just ride him.

you chance another look at your beautiful boyfriend, and a tidal wave of want washes over you so violently you almost stumble from where you’re seated at the bottom edge of the bed.

well.

it’s now or never, right?

and to hell with it if you can’t have him this way now.

taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for what you’re about to say next.

“…get on your knees, katsuki.”

his reply is almost instantaneous.

“what?”

to that, you shoot him the most innocent smile you can muster.

“‘cause i’m about to finger you.”

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lostfracturess · 9 months ago

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【 ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 】 8

x PAIRING gojo satoru x fem!reader (main); megumi fushiguro x fem!reader x WORD COUNT 10.2 k x SUMMARY you never wanted to become part of the world of jujutsu sorcerers, yet fate had other plans when the one and only satoru gojo took you under his wing at jujutsu high. as the lines between student and teacher begin to blur, hidden powers surge to life, and a deadly target is set on your head. x WARNINGS + NOTES this story contains partly abusive and possessive behavior, explicit content, graphic depictions of violence, injury, combat and angst. you can also read it on wattpad or ao3. pls like or repost if you enjoyed ♡

➸ ch 1; ch 2; ch 3; ch 4; ch 5; ch 6; ch 7

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈.

You barely raised your blade in time, the impact of Satoru's iron fist nearly jolting it from your grasp. You did your best to stand your ground. But that's easier said than done against the strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

Sweat trickled down your forehead, stinging your eyes. You and Satoru had been at this for what seemed like an eternity. Your arms ached. Your lungs burned. But you wanted it that way. You told him not to stop unless you told him to.

You had sparred before. But today was different—there was an intensity in his eyes you hadn't seen before. It made you wonder if he'd always held back when he was training you.

In a blur, Satoru seized your wrist—a sharp yank, and your katana clattered away. He kicked it aside, eyes locked on yours. Then came a low, sweeping strike, targeting your legs. You jumped back, barely evading the strike, pain shooting through your ankle. But you forced yourself to stay upright.

"You think too much," Satoru said. "Clear your mind. Feel the flow of my cursed energy. Concentrate on me. Not my attacks."

"It's a bit hard when you're trying to kill me," you shot back.

"You wanted this," he reminded you.

Okay, you did tell him not to hold back, but for God's sake, you've lost count of how many times you've been hit today. And he seems to be enjoying this a bit too much.

Without warning, Satoru lunged forward again. Your body reacted on instinct. You dodged to the side just as his hand sliced through the space where your head had been moments earlier. The rush of air against your cheek the only reminder of how close you'd come to a direct hit.

"Too slow," he scolded.

Satoru reset his stance, poised for the next strike. He was merciless. You gritted your teeth. You barely managed to block and dodge his attacks, feeling the rush of air as his strikes narrowly missed your skin. Your own counterattacks always a split second too slow. The sand beneath your feet shifted with each movement, challenging your balance.

"Come on, focus," he urged.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Gradually, you found yourself driven back, each step taking you closer to the water's edge. The waves lapped at your feet, their cold touch startling against your heated skin. Your breathing grew heavier, each inhale torturous. Your muscles ached.

Suddenly, Satoru feinted to the left but struck from the right, catching you off-guard. You stumbled backwards, lost your balance and fell onto the wet sand.

Before you could straighten up, Satoru stood towering over you. His silhouette etched against the sky. "You need a break?"

You lay there for a moment longer, chest heaving, grains of sand clinging to your skin. "No," you managed to gasp out.

"Then stand," he commanded.

You rolled onto your side, struggling to stand up. You wanted to vomit.

"You're reacting based on what you see," his eyes narrowed. "That won't give you control in a fight. You need to sense my next moves, anticipate my attacks."

"Easier said than done when you have the six eyes," you retorted, finally standing upright.

"You don't need the six eyes to do that."

"And how the fuck am I supposed to 'feel' your attacks?"

"You just—" Satoru made a vague, sweeping gesture with his hands in the air. "—feel it, like—"

"Satoru, has anyone ever told you you're a terrible teacher?"

"Ouch," he shook his head with a smirk. "Let's try something different then."

He stepped closer, his hand delving into the pocket of his training pants, searching for something. "You trust me?" he asked.

"Depends."

He moved behind you, his breath hot against your neck. "Why so cautious, love?"

Darkness enveloped your world as he placed his blindfold over your eyes, securing it with a firm tug that drew an involuntary gasp from you.

"Don't tell me I don't know exactly what you need," his words brushed against your ear. He pulled at the blindfold, tilting your head back, his lips grazing the side of your neck ever so slightly. "—know exactly where to put the right amount of pressure."

Your heartbeat quickened. But no—not now.

"Satoru, are we training or are you trying to fuck me?"

He gave a soft chuff, his lips curling into a smile, "Depends."

He released his grip on the blindfold. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The cool breeze from the sea gently brushed your face, carrying with it the faint scent of salt as you stood still, waiting for him to continue.

"Focus," he said, his presence circling around you. "Let your other senses lead you." Gently, he lifted your hand and pressed it against his chest. His heart beats steady underneath your palm. "Feel my cursed energy," he pressed your hand even tighter against his chest. "You don't need to see me. I want you to feel me."

You bit your bottom lip in concentration. The sensation of his cursed energy was like a pulsating force, a rhythm you could almost grasp. You vaguely understood what he was trying to teach you. You focused, trying to attune yourself to its flow, to understand its movements and intentions without the aid of sight.

"Good girl," he brought your hand to his lips, placing a quick kiss on your knuckles. Then he stepped back, and suddenly the air around him shifted.

"I won't hold back," he declared.

"Alri—"

Before you could finish, Satoru launched into action. His fist hurtled towards your face with lightning speed. You pivoted, narrowly dodging. But he was quick to follow up. Another attack came from the right, catching you off-guard. It sent you stumbling backward, coughing from the impact. The taste of iron filled your mouth.

He was serious.

He gave you no time to think, only to react. You felt another strike, pushing you even further back. You barely managed to avoid his next move. You held your breath. Dropping to the ground, you dodged a high kick. It was a close call.

Fuck.

He was dead serious.

You tried to focus on the rustle of his clothes, the shifting sand beneath his feet, and the pulsing flow of his cursed energy. But he was so fucking fast. He unleashed a flurry of strikes. You managed to block the first few. Then they started landing, each more painful than the last.

"Focus," he paused for a second. Then lunged at you once more.

You blocked his fist, feeling a brief sense of achievement. But it was fleeting. In a swift move, he seized your ankle. Suddenly, you were airborne. You crashed into the ocean, the sudden biting cold shocking you to the core.

You gasped for air, struggling against the crushing waves. In an instant, Satoru was upon you, pressing you down under the water, his hand tight around your throat. His fist drew back, then shot forward. You jerked your head aside at the last moment. His fist slammed into the sand, inches from your face.

He was for real trying to kill you.

Another wave crashed over you, stealing your breath. Water filled your lungs. In desperation, you slammed your knee up into his midsection. He released his grip and staggered backward. You surfaced, gasping sharply for air.

You struggled to get up, your clothes drenched and heavy. Your left side hurt awfully. Probably a broken rib—a slow heal without Shoko's aid. Blood dripped from the corner of your mouth. You wiped it away and stepped out of the water onto the beach.

You could feel his presence, circling around you like a predator around its prey. You had to pivot constantly, tracking his every move. You could hear the faint sound of his breathing, the light touch of his feet on the sand, feel the movement of his cursed energy. Guiding you—turning you to face him each time.

With a quick movement, you ducked under his next attack, feeling the air shift as his arm swept overhead. You struck back, his cursed energy guiding your arm. Your hand grazed fabric, a near miss, but it was progress. A small smile tugged at your lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he cautioned. Then his cursed energy flared.

It was a warning.

He launched a punch, his fists burning with the blue hue of his cursed energy. You twisted away just in time, the heat of his cursed energy rushing past you.

Is he for real—Is he for real using fucking cursed energy now?

You cursed under your breath. Then, you spotted your katana, a faint trace of your own cursed energy subtly marking its location. It laid a few feet away—behind Satoru.

You lunged towards him, even as he charged towards you. Satoru swiped his leg up, aiming to knock you down. You ducked and rolled under his leg, emerging on the other side. Your hand closed around the katana's hilt, lifting it just in time to counter his next assault. You channeled your own cursed energy into the blade, pushing back against his force.

"Stop holding back!" Satoru yelled. "Fight like you mean it!"

He moved again, his movements a blur. In an instant, he was upon you. His fist jabbed towards your chest. You sidestepped, feeling the air shift as his strike missed. Your katana arced through the air, aiming straight for his head.

Satoru reacted instantly. He spun, dodging your blade. The katana sliced only air. He pivoted, launching a kick. You barely blocked it with your right forearm. The impact sent pain shooting up your arms, but you stood firm.

"Fuck, Satoru, what are you trying to do here?" you gasped, your defenses wavering.

"I'm teaching you a lesson," he replied.

Satoru kept up the pressure, each move sharp and forceful. You were constantly on the defensive, retreating step by step. The soft sand of the beach gave way to the firmer ground as you neared the house.

You backed onto the driveway, but there was no break in his onslaught. Each parry and dodge took all your effort. Suddenly, with a powerful kick, Satoru sent you hurtling backwards against his parked car. The windows shattered instantly upon impact.

The cold metal frame bore into your back. Slumped against the car's hood, you gasped for air, spitting blood. Your vision blurred. But then, something within you shifted. Your senses sharpened, adjusting to Satoru's every move. You felt the energy pulsating from him. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Now, even blindfolded, you could sense him closing in—could sense what he was about to do.

The air around Satoru seemed to thrum with cursed energy. He didn't hesitate. You barely had time to raise your katana in defense, the blade glinting in the fading light. But it was in vain for what was to come.

He aimed at you and unleashed a Black Flash. The surrounding air twisted, his cursed energy darkening to an inky black. The world seemed to slow down.

Your katana collided with Satoru's attack, unleashing a shockwave. It tore through you like lightning, reverberating through every bone. The force pushed you brutally into the car. The metal creaked under the immense pressure until it broke. The ground underneath fractured, stones splitting. You clenched your teeth, fighting against the onslaught.

Was that still part of the training?

Or had he gone mad?

He might just fire a purple hollow at you for good measure.

His fist bore down on the blade, pushing relentlessly even as his flesh sliced through the blade. Another sharp pain shot through you—perhaps a second rib had succumbed to his force. Satoru's eyes burned, never leaving your gaze.

"Fight!" he commanded.

That was the breaking point, the thin thread of control snapping. Your instincts took over. Harnessing your own cursed technique, you reached out to the coursing energy of his attack. You had reversed it once; you could do it again. His cursed energy writhed and twisted, resisting your control, but you held firm.

Then, with a defiant cry, you redirected the Black Flash back at Satoru, pushing the blade against him. His eyes widened in shock. The reversed attack struck him with a force he hadn't anticipated, forcing him backwards.

His feet dragged through the sand, leaving deep trails as he fought for balance. But it was in vain. He crashed into a nearby tree with such force that it splintered instantly upon impact.

Seizing the moment, you leapt into action. Your body moved on pure instinct. Spotting an opening, you feigned a move to the left, then swiftly struck to the right with your katana. The blade found its mark, slicing into Satoru's shoulder—sending a surge of cursed energy through him. He stumbled back, a rare look of surprise flashing across his face.

For a brief moment, everything was still. The only sounds were the heavy breathing of you both and the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore.

You tore the blindfold from your eyes, your gaze immediately found Satoru. Blood oozed from his shoulder. Panic rushed through you. Quickly, you withdrew your katana, the blade slick with blood.

Why didn't he use his infinity?

"I'm so sorry, Satoru, I didn't mean—" Your apology was cut short. In an instant, Satoru closed the distance between you. His hand gripped your neck, pulling you into a sudden, violent kiss. His lips set your skin immediately on fire. Burning away the fatigue and pain that had you felt seconds ago. Making you forget the cold of your drenched clothes.

"Satoru, wait—" you tried to speak, your eyes catching a glimpse of the still-bleeding wound on his shoulder.

"Shut up," he breathed against your lips. "I need you—now."

His hands grasped your waist. In one swift motion, he lifted you up, not once breaking the kiss. You wrapped your legs around him as he moved towards the house. Your fingers weaved through his hair, drawing him even closer, responding to each of his intense kisses with equal fervor. A hunger for more, a need to feel every inch of him, skin against skin, overwhelmed you.

He pushed the door open and kicked it shut behind you. In an instant, he had you pinned against the wall beside the door. Your mouths collided again, taking the breath straight out of your lungs. You didn't care. You didn't need it anyway. All you needed was him.

His fingers worked hastily, peeling away layers of clothing. With his bare chest now exposed, you could see the wound on his shoulder slowly closing. Oh, how you wished you could use reverse cursed technique yourself.

He spun you around, your chest pressed against the wall. His hand found your throat and gripped tightly, a gasp escaping your lips. His other arm stretched above you, palm against the wall, enclosing you in his embrace. You could feel his arousal through his pants pressing against you. You arched into him, rubbing up and down against his bulge. A low moan escaped his lips.

"I swear to God, you could make me come with just that," he murmured before his mouth trailed down your neck, sucking and biting, his breath hot and wet against your throat. Heat floods your body in an addictive rush, setting every inch of skin on fire as you felt how hard he was for you.

"Fuck, I need you so bad," he breathed out. Effortlessly, he lifted you and carried you to the couch, throwing you down. Quickly, he removed both your pants and his.

Leaning over you, he speared his fingers through your hair, forcing your head back. "Open your mouth," he commanded and you complied, your tongue instinctively responding. Spit escaped his lips and fell against your tongue. Then his tongue plunged into your mouth again, sliding against your tongue to mingle his spit with yours.

You moaned into his mouth, hands roaming over his back, fingers digging into his skin, feeling the play of muscles beneath, all your pain suddenly gone. Now there was only desire. He closed the gap, pressing his bare chest against yours.

He groaned your name against your lips, sliding his hand between your thighs. He slid the fabric of your underwear across your clit, expertly using it for friction. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, yearning for more. "Fuck, Satoru," you gasped, your voice laced with longing. You could feel him smirking against your lips.

He pushed your legs further apart to have better access. Satoru hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, smoothly pulling them down. Without a second wasted, he slid two fingers inside you. Deep. Slow. Painfully slow.

Your eyes fluttered shut, a choked gasp escaping your lips as he plunged deeper, his fingers skillfully finding and hitting your core. You clenched involuntarily around him. He smiled, pleased with the reaction he had on you. "God, you're already dripping," he said. "I barely did anything."

"Shut up," you managed to say, stifling another moan. The feeling of his fingers moving deeply within you was overwhelming. He swirled them, pressing against your inner walls. Your need for him grew intense, a craving for more—faster—harder.

You tried to push your hips down to pump his fingers in and out of you, but he stopped you before you could move an inch. A groan of frustration escaped you. "Stop playing around, Satoru," you said breathlessly, staring at him with pleading eyes that sent all the remaining blood in his brain south.

"Oh love, I haven't even started yet," he whispered before his head also went south. His cock already painfully straining against his boxers, but he wanted to devour you whole before he had his pleasure. He lifted your leg over his shoulder, planting kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Then, he grasped your hips, adjusting you for a better angle. He pressed his mouth to your clit, his tongue alternating between gentle licks and intense, drawn-out pulls. The sensation was overwhelming. Your hand found its way into his hair, gripping tightly as he pushed two fingers inside you once more. His movements of fingers and tongue in perfect sync. A tight coil of tension built rapidly in your core, teetering on the edge of release.

He forced himself to maintain a slow pace, drawing out each of your cries and moans before gradually increasing the pace and intensity until your arousal dripped down his hand. "God, you taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice vibrating against you.

Then, replacing his fingers with his tongue, he delved deeper, his hand pressing on your lower stomach. The sensation of his tongue moving inside you was intoxicating, causing you to squirm beneath him. "I'm so close," you whimpered, feeling the tension building relentlessly.

"I know," he said, his warm breath against your clit drawing another moan from you. You almost teared up, crying out his name in pleasure. "Come for me, love," he encouraged. You tried to stifle your loud moans with your fist, gripping the fabric beneath you with your other hand. Then, as the tension finally broke, your body shook around him, waves of your climax making you shudder uncontrollably.

Breathless, you tried to regain your composure as Satoru continued to gently lick and tease your clit, making your legs twitch. "You get so fucking tight when you come," he said, then meticulously licked you all up.

Satoru wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, savoring the taste of you. His blood pounded with arousal, visible in the strained fabric of his underwear.

"What the fuck did you do to me," he said, pulling you towards him and onto his lap. You slowly began to grind against the hard bulge beneath, feeling his desire palpable against you. His hands found your hips, guiding your movements. He tilted his head back, moans escaping his throat—fuck, he was so hot when he moaned.

"I won't last long if you keep doing that," he warned breathlessly.

"You don't have to," you whispered, trailing kisses along his neck.

"Oh, I do," he groaned in response, his words punctuated by moans. "I want you to fucking feel it, every second of it." He pulled down his boxers, his erection springing free, thick and visibly pulsing with need, pre-cum glistening at the tip.

You wanted him, all of him, inside you—an overwhelming need that eclipsed everything else.

He lifted you by your waist, positioning you right above his tip, holding you there. Your arms rested against the couch, finding support as you subtly moved your hips back and forth over him. A soft wince escaped him, his eyes fluttering shut before his mouth found yours again. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue, blending with the flavor you had come to crave.

Yearning to feel him all inside of you, you tried to lower yourself onto him. But his hold remained steadfast. "Fuck, Satoru," you exhaled, "—just fuck me already."

"Where's the fun with that, love?" he teased, his lips brushing against yours. He then allowed you to sink down just slightly, just enough to feel him at your entrance. It was alluring and frustrating all at once. You moaned, feeling him stretch you just a bit. You craved more, needed more.

"Just the tip," he whispered close to your ear, making your mind reel. He controlled your movements with precision, guiding you up and down in a torturous rhythm that allowed only the tip to slip in and out.

His lips found solace against the curve of your neck, trying to stifle his own cries of pleasure. His breath, heavy and ragged, synchronized with yours, reflecting a shared desperation. You couldn't take it any longer. "Fuck, Satoru, who's torturing who now?"

"Ha, you're right." In one swift motion, he pushed you down entirely onto him. The sudden fullness made you gasp, clawing at his neck. His pace was slow, maddening, each thrust deep and consuming, hitting just the right spots to make you moan uncontrollably against his neck.

"That's it," he moaned. "Take every inch, just like that. You take me so good." His words were punctuated by his deep, hard thrusts, each one driving you closer to the edge. You cried out, your mind emptied of all thoughts except the sensation of his cock pounding into you.

He pushed you back onto the couch, your back arched under him. Satoru's fingers dug into your throat, applying just enough pressure to intensify the sensation between your legs as he continued his hard thrusts.

Your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the growing tension within you, but they snapped open as he tugged sharply at your hair, tilting your head back. "Open your eyes," he commanded. "I want you to look at me while you come."

His grip on your throat tightened, his fingers fitting perfectly around your neck, terrifyingly perfect. "I want you to see exactly who's making you feel this way."

He quickly lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle—making it even better. Your skin grew hotter as he increased his pace, thrusting into you with such force that you would have slid up the couch if not for his firm grip on your throat.

Suddenly, your second orgasm overwhelmed you. Your back arched into him, nails digging into the skin of his back as your body tightened around him. "God, you're tightening—so—fucking—much on—me," he gasped, struggling to get the words out under the intensity of the sensation.

At that moment, Satoru reached his own climax, spilling inside you with a sharp hiss of pain. His eyes remained locked with yours, allowing you to witness every detail of his expression—the furrowing of his brows, his mouth agape, his hair damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead.

Satoru remained motionless for a moment, both of you catching your breath. Breaking the silence, he leaned in for another kiss, gentle and soft. Gradually, he lowered his head to your chest, his breath warm against your skin. He adorned your skin with soft kisses and licks, savoring the salty taste of your skin.

"You did so good," he said as he pulled out, his cum dripping down your legs. His gentle voice was at complete odds with the feral way he'd fucked you. Satoru glanced up at you, his eyes smiling at you, his satisfaction written all over his face. He continued to gently caress you until your breathing returned to normal.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"A bit late for that question, isn't it?" you raised an eyebrow.

His mouth twitched with amusement, though his eyes remained heavy-lidded with desire. He then stepped back, beginning to collect the clothes scattered around the room.

"Did I hurt you?" you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow, your eyes tracing the faint line on his shoulder where your blade had made its mark.

"It's fine," he replied nonchalantly, tossing your clothes in your direction. "But it's strange, my reverse cursed technique doesn't heal me from your attacks as fast. Might be something about your cursed technique."

"Then why'd you lower your infinity earlier?" you asked, catching the clothes.

"Lower it?" He let out a light chuckle. "Not when you're coming at me like that."

"What?"

"You pierced through it. Wasn't that on purpose?"

"No, I—I mean, I wasn't really thinking about it."

Pulling on his pants, Satoru paused. His jaw might just hit the ground.

"You—What? You just redirected my Black Flash, intensified its power, found a flaw in my defense, broke through my infinity and outpaced me—all without even realizing it? I couldn't even track your move with my six eyes, and you're telling me it was just instinct?"

"Yeah, it all just kind of happened."

Satoru started to laugh. He walked over to you and gently cupped your face in his hands. "God, you've become so strong," he said, his voice soft with admiration. His lips met yours in a tender, loving kiss. "I fucking love you so much."

"But you need to learn to control it, not just rely on instinct," he added.

"Is that why you tried to kill me?" You tone suddenly cold.

Satoru flinched slightly at your words. "You know as well as I do, it's the only way to really push your limits. You wouldn't have attacked me like that if I hadn't done it first."

Yeah, what to answer to that.

But it was him. The Satoru you fell in love with. He probably did not know any other way to train you—just brute force or nothing.

He was so different from Megumi.

"When will I be able to face Mahito?" you asked.

He considered for a moment. "You've likely already surpassed Kugisaki and Itadori, maybe even Fushiguro. But you can become even better. You just need more time."

More time. The very thing you did not want to spend. You didn't want to hide, to bide your time. Your gaze drifted away.

"Hey, look at me," Satoru said, guiding your chin back towards him with his hand. "You're strong, you can beat him. Training, taking your time—it's not a weakness."

His piercing blue eyes held yours, almost overwhelming in their intensity. "Okay," you simply said.

"Good girl," he stood up. "Want some coffee?"

"No, I'm good," you replied, rising to dress yourself.

Slowly, the adrenaline wore off, leaving you painfully aware of the injuries the fight had left you with. Everything hurt so awful. You walked over to the glass front of the living room and peered out. Each step painful. It was already getting dark outside.

Carefully, you touched the side of your ribs, assessing the damage. Even the slightest pressure sent a sharp pain through your body. Satoru moved to your side, his gaze lingering on you.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's fine," you said, trying to downplay the pain. But a sharp flinch as you probed your abdomen betrayed you.

"Let me," he said, carefully lifting you onto the countertop of the kitchen. Despite your elevated position, he still stood taller. His hands moved gently over your skin, searching for injuries. As he found each bruise and cut, his movements grew more urgent, his brows furrowing.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, as if he only now fully grasped how deeply he had hurt you. The sight of your pain struck him deeper than any physical wound ever could.

Frantically, he rummaged through a drawer and returned with disinfectant and bandages. Opening the package with a quick tear of his teeth, he carefully began tending to your wounds. Each touch was gentle, but his hands trembled. You winced as the antiseptic stung the cuts.

Suddenly, Satoru's composure cracked, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "If only I could use my reversed cursed technique to heal you—or fuck at least teach it to you—,"

He wiped the back of his hand hastily across his eyes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," he repeated.

Your blood ran cold at his sudden vulnerability, seeing the man who always seemed untouchable, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, now laying bare before you. He looked so young right in this moment. So broken.

"Satoru," you said softly, but he didn't really hear you.

Silence followed. The soft rustle of clothing and the distant lapping of the ocean waves the only sound. Satoru's touch was painstakingly gentle as he wrapped bandages around your abdomen, as if he feared causing you even more pain. He avoided meeting your eyes.

"Satoru, it's okay," you repeated. He did not answer.

"Satoru—," you said again, this time reaching out to grasp his arm, halting his movements. He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and looked up, revealing his red-rimmed eyes—a sight you had never seen before. It nearly made you cry. You never wanted to see him so broken ever again.

"It's okay," you said, holding his gaze. "That's what we do. We fight."

Your words were meant to comfort, but you saw the subtle tension in his jaw, the catch in his throat that betrayed his inner turmoil.

"I hurt you," he said, as if he couldn't really believe it himself.

"You did, and it hurt," you said, cupping his face between your hands to calm his trembling. "But I asked for it. I told you not to hold back, because I need you to train me. It was my choice."

His eyes, usually so bright and playful, were so dark and unfamiliar. "I should have been more careful. I should be the one protecting you, not hurting you. I should—"

"Stop. Satoru, stop. You've always protected me, more than anyone ever has," you insisted, trying to ease his guilt.

He swallowed hard, the tension in his jawline still evident. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I'm fine, Satoru. You could never hurt me. No matter what you do to me."

His gaze lingered on you, searching for the lie in your eyes. He nodded after a second, but the worry didn't fully leave his face.

"And now get me some damn morphine, or I'll pass out,'" you added.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He rummaged through the drawers once more, his movements more composed now. Finding what he was looking for, he handed you a pill and a glass of water. "This should help."

As you took the medication, he resumed tending to your wounds, his touch more confident now.

"I think I may need a new car," he quipped, plucking a small shard of glass from your skin.

"Yeah, that's totally done," you said with a chuckle, but immediately regretted it as you felt a sharp pain again. You winced slightly.

"Easy, love," Satoru said, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before returning to tend to your wounds.

A comfortable silence enveloped the room. You turned slightly and gazed out the window, watching the waves crashing gently against the shore. "It's so beautiful."

Satoru looked at you. "Yes, it is."

"You know we could stay here," he eventually said.

You turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"

"No one knows we're here. We could leave it all behind. Forget the chaos." You could see the pain in his eyes. How much he wanted it. Just to be. Nothing more. Here in this house. As a couple. Away from all danger. It broke your heart to say it.

"That's not us, Satoru. We're sorcerers. We know nothing more than the fray, we deserve nothing more than that. That's our reality."

"I'd give it all up for you."

"No, you wouldn't, Satoru. I know that as well as you do. You thrive in the midst of sorcery, in the thrill of battle. It's as much a part of you as it is of me."

"Doesn't that scare you?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

"Does it scare you?" you echoed back.

"You're insane," he muttered.

"Perhaps," you said with a wicked smile. "But I wouldn't want to marry someone who didn't find sheer pleasure in killing curses."

His eyes widened a fraction. "Is that—are you saying yes?"

"Maybe," your lips curved into a smile. "But first, kiss me."

No sooner had the words left your lips than he was upon you, his mouth pressing fervently against yours, moving in perfect harmony. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, lifting you in a whirl of excitement. "Ahh, Satoru, that hurts," you winced, and he immediately set you down with care. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized quickly.

"I fucking love you," he said as he showered your face with kisses, repeating "I—love—you," with each gentle press of his lips.

You allowed yourself to be enveloped in his affection, savoring each kiss, knowing that whatever was to come was far from easy—far from pretty—far from safe. Dread lingered within you, the feeling that your time together was running out.

You should tell him. Tell him what you're going to do, but—

No.

You didn't want to destroy this moment. You wanted to hold onto this sweet haze a bit longer.

"I love you too, Satoru."

You meant it, more than anything.

****

𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

Megumi, Yuji and Nobara sat around a table in the bustling cafeteria of jujutsu high. Yuji was animatedly describing some absurd encounter he had earlier, flapping his arms for emphasis.

"And then," Yuji said, "the cat just—"

"Hi," a familiar voice from behind cut him off mid-sentence.

An immediate hush fell over the cafeteria. Every head turned in your direction. Satoru stood one step behind you.

Your friends were momentarily stunned, their conversation forgotten. Nobara's eyes widened as she leaped up from her seat, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug. "You're back!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the suddenly quiet room.

Yuji's face broke into a wide smile. "No way! How long has it been?"

"I can't believe it, you're really back," Nobara stepped back, her eyes scanning you up and down. "But seriously, what are you wearing?"

"Satoru had it custom-made for me," you said, giving a slight twirl to showcase the sleek, black uniform that clung neatly to your form. The material, lightweight yet impressively durable, shimmered subtly under the cafeteria lights.

Nobara's eyes suddenly darted to your hand. "No way!" she shrieked, her voice climbing octaves in sheer thrill. "No way!"

She seized your hand, her eyes fixed on the gleaming ring on your finger. The sunlight caught the jewel, making it dance with a spectrum of colors.

You leaned back into Satoru's presence, your smile widening. "You can call me Mrs. Gojo now."

Nobara's face lit up. Her eyes reflected the delicate sparkle of your ring.

"Seriously? This is huge!" Yuji joined in as he wrapped you both in a tight hug.

"Congratulations," Megumi said as you locked eyes with him over Nobara's shoulders. He smiled. Weakly, but he smiled. And you had never been so happy to see his smile.

Nobara, still holding your hand in hers, lifted her eyes to Satoru. "You better take good care of her, Gojo, or you'll have to deal with all of us."

Satoru smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Tell us everything," Nobara urged, dragging you back to the table.

Satoru pulled Megumi aside, his grip on his arm tight. "Megumi, I need a word with you."

Megumi's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"I need you to keep an eye on her." Satoru glanced at you, observing your chatter with Nobara and Yuji. "Something's off. She's hiding something from me."

Megumi followed Satoru's gaze. "You think she's in danger?"

"She's planning something stupid, I know it." Satoru's face hardened slightly. "I trust you, Megumi. Please, just watch out for her for me."

Megumi nodded. "You have my word."

With a nod, Satoru returned to the table, masking his worries with a practiced smile. As he approached, he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your cheek. You responded instinctively, your hand finding his cheek in a gentle caress. Then Satoru took a seat beside you.

"So, how long are you staying?" Nobara asked.

Your smile waned. "Not long. I came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Nobara echoed, her brows knitting. "What do you mean?"

"I'm here to kill Mahito."

The table fell silent.

"Kill Mahito?" Yuji repeated. His eyes flicked back and forth between you and Satoru, seeking some kind of explanation.

Satoru leaned back in his chair. "That has always been the plan."

"Then we're with you. You're not doing this alone," Nobara said.

You shook your head. "No, Nobara. This is something I must do on my own. Mahito is my responsibility."

"But—" Megumi interjected.

"I'm not weak anymore," you stated firmly, locking eyes with Megumi.

Yuji leaned in, his hands clenched tightly on the table's edge. "You can't expect us to sit back and do nothing."

"I need you to trust me," you insisted. "It's all settled anyway."

Megumi and Yuji exchanged uneasy glances. "What do you mean by that?"

"We left Mahito a message. He knows when and where to find me."

"Are you insane?" Megumi couldn't hide his alarm.

You shrugged. "No more than usual."

"I'm kinda getting scared. You sure this will work?" Yuji asked.

Satoru leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. His gaze fixed on you.

"I'm sure," your lips curved into a cruel smile. "Besides, I'm not the hunted anymore."

"It's them."

****

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐠𝐨.

"You and I."

"You and I," he repeated. "—against the world."

Satoru's blue eyes held yours in a gaze so intense it felt like falling into an ocean. His hand rose to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin in a tender touch. He looked at you, as if seeing you, truly seeing you, for the first time. As if he had just realized what love truly is.

Yuta's voice broke the silence. "Now, by the power vested in me by... well, let's say by the spirit of this unique moment, I pronounce you married. You may kiss now."

Then, as if drawn together by a force greater than yourselves, you and Satoru leaned in for a kiss. His lips met yours in a tender and gentle kiss. Yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that sealed your vows.

A promise of forever.

The world seemed to stand still as you kissed. The only reality that mattered in that moment was the feeling of Satoru's lips on yours, the warmth of his embrace and the unspoken promise of a lifetime together.

"I love you," he breathed against your lips.

"I love you too," you said.

Satoru's hand found its place on your back. Holding you in his embrace, he tilted you back. His lips found yours again in a deeper, more passionate kiss. His tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entry, and you eagerly granted it. You felt him smile against your lips.

Then Satoru gently lifted you back upright without breaking the kiss. He held you close to his chest, his heartbeat echoing the rhythm of your own. As your lips finally parted, you were left breathless.

You didn't have to turn your head to see that Yuta's face was red all over.

****

"I love you."

Satoru pushed you back through the door of the house. He began to hastily shrug his suit jacket off his shoulders as his tongue explored your mouth. Satoru's kiss was maddening, a clash of lips and tongues that spoke of a longing he had only for you.

You struggled to catch your breath between kisses. Still, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, letting him steal your every breath.

"I love you too," you said breathlessly. "But wasn't it a bit rude to kick Yuta out so quickly?"

"Yeah, we owe him an apology," his grin widened. "But that can wait for now."

Your pulse quickened. Satoru's hands moved under the fabric of your dress, running his fingers up over your hips, touching your bare skin, pressing you close against him. You hastily loosened his black tie and started to unbutton his shirt.

You bit your bottom lip as he skillfully found that most sensitive spot between your legs, sending a thrill through you. Your breath hitched. You grasped his hair, pulling so hard it must've hurt.

Satoru's strong arms enveloped you, lifting you with ease as he carried you into the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and hovered over you. He paused for a second, taking his time to look at you, intense yet caring, as he brushed a loose hair from your face. You reached out, your hand gently cupping his cheek as you held his gaze.

"I'm all yours," you whispered.

"And I'm all yours," he repeated.

Then he kissed you again, hard and demanding. His lips left yours, tracing a path down your jawline, leaving a trail of searing kisses in their wake. He nibbled at your skin, his teeth grazing your neck. Every inch of you marked by him as his.

Because you were his.

Forever.

****

"What's on your mind, love?"

You tore your gaze away from the window and met his eyes. "Nothing."

His fingers traced lazy circles over the exposed skin of your back as you lay side by side on the bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the open window, and a gentle early summer breeze from the ocean rustled the curtains.

Satoru propped himself up on his elbow. "Don't lie to me."

You hesitated for a moment. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"That you'll stop loving me."

"What do you mean?"

"What if I do something that makes you hate me?"

Satoru hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "You could never do anything to make me hate you."

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

Satoru gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gaze unwavering. "You can't choose which parts to love and which to leave out," he began, his voice a soothing murmur, "—even in all the dark moments. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. You are not perfect, but neither am I. Still, I choose you."

You bit your lip. It started to bleed.

"Hey, look at me," he urged gently, cradling your face between his hands. His eyes glistened in the moonlight. "We're in this together."

You wished you could believe it with all your heart.

He leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath caressing your skin. "My life is all yours. It was always yours to begin with," he whispered.

"And my life will always be yours," you repeated.

But the fear still whispered in the recesses of your mind. In that fragile moment, all you could do was cling to him, savoring the precious time you shared, clinging to the hope that love against all odds would be enough.

****

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭.

Somehow I believe that the greatest pain one will ever know is to wake up one day and realize that time has run out.

"You nervous?"

Satoru's gaze met yours. He had barely slept the night before, his weary eyes accentuated by dark circles. His cursed energy seemed to charge the very air with tension. Uncontrolled. Still, his senses were on high alert.

You didn't sleep either. Your mind raced. But it didn't matter anyway. It would either work or you'd be dead. So you remained outwardly calm, perhaps too calm for what was to come.

"No," you replied after a moment's pause. "Are you?"

Satoru smiled. "Nah, I trust you."

Silence fell again as you both waited—waited for the inevitable confrontation.

Ruins surrounded you. Remnants of the Christmas Eve battle. The city was so destroyed that the government had not even bothered to rebuild it. Buildings stood like skeletons. The streets were eerily deserted, their emptiness broken only by the whisper of wind stirring the debris.

It looked like a graveyard.

"They'll be here soon," Satoru said.

Your fingers instinctively curled around the hilt of your katana, reassuring yourself that it was still securely at your side. "Yeah, I can feel it."

He turned toward you, closing the distance between you. His hands gently cradled your face, lifting your eyes to meet his. "Don't do anything stupid," he implored, his concern etched in his gaze.

Your stomach tightened. "I won't."

Satoru's gaze lingered on your face for a moment longer, as if he wanted to remember every detail, as if this moment could be the last.

"What is it?" you asked, searching his eyes for any hint of what he might be thinking.

"You're so beautiful," he said softly, "—even when you lie to me."

The air suddenly grew colder.

"They're here," he finally whispered, his hands still gently holding your face.

"They are," you affirmed.

You didn't need to look to know. Their cursed energy was impossible to miss. You could almost sense the malice in their grins. And there he was, among them, just as you had expected.

"He's mine," Satoru declared.

"Mahito's mine," you countered.

A smile flickered across his lips.

"Kiss me, Satoru."

He obliged without hesitation. His lips met yours with a tenderness that betrayed the dire situation you were about to face. The kiss was soft, almost chaste, yet it carried the familiar fever you always felt with him.

Heat spread over your skin as his kiss deepened, and the world around you momentarily faded into a blur. Then, with a final, lingering kiss, he pulled away and placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

"I love you. Stay safe," he whispered, his breath warm against your hair. His eyes locked onto yours one last time before you both turned to face them.

Mahito stood in the center. His cruel smile seemed to burn itself into your memory. He looked at you like a predator eyeing his next meal. How foolish.

"Go," you said.

Without wasting a moment, Satoru burst into action. With lightning-fast speed, he charged towards them. His eyes locked on Kenjaku.

Satoru's attack sent Kenjaku spiraling backwards with a force that smashed him into one building and then another, causing the structures to collapse under the sheer impact.

This left Mahito alone in the midst of the battlefield.

"Finally, we meet! I've been so excited about this," Mahito taunted, his hand clawing at his face. His expression twisted into a grimace that seemed barely human. "You done hiding?"

"You're the one who should hide."

His response was a derisive laugh. Then, he advanced.

You didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, you surged forward, katana in hand. Mahito twisted grotesquely to dodge. But you were already pivoting, blade slicing through the air. With a surge of cursed energy, you unleashed a strike that sliced through everything in its path towards Mahito.

The ground shattered beneath you, a violent crack opening a gaping chasm. Mahito narrowly avoided it, losing his arm in the process. He tilted his head back. His manic laughter filled the air. "You've really gotten strong!"

"Nah, you're just weak," you wiped his blood off your katana onto your sleeve.

Mahito's laughter died in his throat. His face twisting into a mask of fury.

Your gaze locked onto his shifting form. He was a blur, constantly moving. He was everywhere, nowhere. He lunged, morphing into a grotesque, colossal figure. His massive punch came hurtling down from above.

You raised your katana just in time, blocking the blow. He shifted again, his arms morphing into bladed weapons. He slashed at you from both sides. You leapt, dodging the first attack, but he followed swiftly.

A second strike sent you flying backwards into the remains of a building.

Dust and debris swirled around you. You rose from the rubble despite the pain coursing through your body. You narrowed your eyes, focusing on Mahito's every move. You raised your blade when Mahito came at you again.

You parried his relentless attacks, each strike faster and fiercer. Suddenly, he morphed his arm into a massive, hurtling mass.

The blow connected, pushing you back and skimming the edge of the building. In the last seconds, you slammed your katana into the brick wall. You halted your fall.

Climbing up, you were met with Mahito's grotesque visage. He hovered above you. His foul breath was overwhelming. You had no time to react.

His next blow struck hard, sending you crashing to the unforgiving ground below. Pain seared through your body, leaving you gasping for breath. Your eyes darted around, searching for any sign of Mahito's presence.

Then, rising from the ashes like a devil, Mahito lunged at you once more. With a swift motion, you slashed your katana through the air, intercepting his attack before it could land. Mahito was hurled backwards and crashed into the ground.

Seizing the moment, you leapt into action. You swept your leg up, sending him reeling and slamming into a nearby wall. He crumpled to the ground, his grotesque form momentarily subdued.

In the blink of an eye, you were upon him. Your foot pinned him down, your katana poised, gleaming like a deadly arc of silver. With a swift stroke, you severed his arms, ensuring that he couldn't touch you. He gasped, his breath wheezing from his lungs.

"Where are the fingers?" you pressed, your voice cold.

Mahito's eyes widened. "Ha?"

"Where. Are. Sukuna's. Fingers."

Mahito seemed to consider your question for a moment, then he erupted into a shrill, mocking laugh. "Are you insane?"

You pressed your foot down harder. "You have them with you, don't you?"

His expression twisted into a sneer. "You talk like you want to use them, bitch."

"Save your breath," you snapped. "Just tell me where they are."

"You'd have to kill me first," he cackled, as if the idea amused him.

"You say that as if it's a hard thing to do."

Mahito's eyes turned pitch black. In an instant, his body began to transform, swelling grotesquely in size. Before you could react, you found yourself engulfed by his monstrous form, trapped within his flesh.

Darkness closed in around you, a suffocating void where you could no longer sense any cursed energy. Not even Satoru's.

Panic surged as you scanned the oppressive darkness that surrounded you.

You were trapped. The air grew thin.

You struck out with your katana, slicing through Mahito's flesh. But it held firm.

Shit.

Suddenly, a surge of energy rippled through the darkness. Light flashed. A face appeared, one you knew all too well.

"Yuji!" you exclaimed as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you free from Mahito's grotesque form. Together you tumbled to the ground, rolling through the dust until you crashed into a wall.

You coughed, dust filling your lungs. "What are you doing here?"

Yuji, pushing himself to his knees, looked up at you. "Mahito's here. I had to come."

You smiled. "Should have expected that from you."

He chuckled.

"Watch out!" another familiar voice shouted. You looked up just in time to see Mahito lunging towards you. Suddenly, you were being yanked backwards, barely avoiding where Mahito's fist slammed into the ground.

"Megumi??" you gasped.

"Long time no see," he replied, a wry smile on his lips.

Your hands hastily found Megumi's shoulders. "You shouldn't be here—not you. You have to leave," you urged.

Megumi's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

"Bad time for a reunion," Mahito sneered, his grotesque form lunging at you. But Yuji was faster. His kick sent Mahito spiraling sideways.

"Don't lose focus, guys!" Yuji shouted. You quickly turned to see Mahito rising from the dust. His shrill laughter reverberating through the desolate space. At the same time, your gaze shifted to a bright blue light in the sky—it was Satoru.

"Kenjaku's here too," you informed them.

"Kenjaku? Really?" Megumi exclaimed.

"Yeah, Satoru's handling him," you said. You turned back to face Mahito as he closed the distance with large, menacing strides.

Yuji and Megumi positioned themselves beside you, fists raised.

Shit.

Time for a change of plans.

Mahito split into three separate entities, each advancing towards you with frightening speed. You drew your katana, meeting Mahito's initial strike head-on.

The battle had escalated into a chaotic melee, with Yuji and Megumi grappling with their own versions of Mahito.

Mahito's relentless attack pushed you back, or perhaps you let yourself be pushed back. Who really knows.

"You're the original, right?" you asked, a sly grin on your face.

He sneered. "Eager for Sukuna's fingers, aren't you?"

"Just very interested."

You shoved him away with your blade. Mahito transformed again, his body becoming an arsenal of blades. He slashed through the air, each miss sending shockwaves that shattered the remains of nearby windows.

The shards flew like a deadly rain, cutting through air and skin.

You clenched your teeth against the pain. You moved through the storm of glass and steel towards him. Then, you saw your chance.

You made your move. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching out as you calculated your attack. Mahito's eyes widened in shock, realization dawning upon him too late.

His vulnerability exposed.

Your katana sliced through the air, aiming at his exposed flank. The blade struck with deadly accuracy, cutting through his flesh. Cursed energy collided with cursed energy. In that fleeting instant, time seemed to freeze. Mahito was immobilized.

"Ahh, there they are." You could feel the distinct cursed energy of Sukuna's fingers within Mahito's flesh. He must have hidden them in his stomach.

"You're insane," Mahito yelled.

He struggled against your attack, trying to morph and escape your grasp. But he couldn't.

You used your cursed technique to pin him down, preventing him from transforming. Why did you never understand this before—if you could manipulate cursed energy, you could also suppress it. So simple.

"Heard that a few times today."

You sliced open his stomach while he was powerless. Inside, wrapped in cloth, were the fingers. You pulled them out and stepped back. You watched as Mahito's form collapsed into a grotesque mess.

Black liquid oozed from his wounds. He stumbled, clutching at the gaping wound in his stomach, trying in vain to reform.

"Yeah, that's going to take a while. My cursed technique stops the flow of your cursed energy," you explained nonchalantly, examining the fingers in your hand.

Mahito was left writhing and powerless. His usual ability to regenerate and morph was crippled by your technique.

"What are you?" Mahito gasped, collapsing back onto the ground.

You turned towards him, taking deliberate, slow steps. You towered over him. "The wife of Satoru Gojo. What did you expect?"

Shock etched Mahito's face. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Yeah, whatever."

Without a moment's hesitation, you ended him. Your blade sliced through his flesh effortlessly. Maybe you should feel something. Relief. Shook. Anything. But you felt nothing as the light in his eyes faded.

Perhaps it was the influence of all the malevolent cursed energy you had been manipulating in training for the past few moths. You were so used to it that you believed it had already become a part of you.

The remaining Mahito duplicates, linked to the original, crumbled as well.

You secured the fingers in a side pocket on your belt.

Focus.

No room for mistakes now.

Satoru would soon notice what had happened.

Scanning the area, Yuji and Megumi weren't immediately visible. You moved toward the last spot you had seen Yuji.

"You did it!" Yuji exclaimed as he spotted you. His appearance was battered, but nothing seemed critical. Megumi, seen from the corner of your eye, looked similarly worn.

Yuji's eyes sparkled. You hated what you had to do.

"I'm sorry, Yuji," you whispered as you lifted your katana.

Megumi's voice attempted to reach you. But it was lost. It was drowned out by a high-pitched ringing in your ears. Your vision tunneled, focusing solely on Yuji's frightened face in front of you.

You hated yourself so much in this moment.

Then, out of nowhere, a sudden, brutal impact from your left.

A car, hurled as if from the hands of a giant, slammed into you, sending you careening to the side. For a disorienting moment, you were airborne, uncertain if you were still flying or had met your end.

You hit the ground hard. You reeled over and over until your body crashed violently into a building. Your head struck the cold stone. A sharp pain shot through your skull. You were momentarily disoriented. Lost.

With a groan, you pushed the car off you, your legs straining against its weight.

You struggled to stand. Your fingers slipped against the blood-stained wall, unable to find a grip. Your skull throbbed merciless. Your vision blurred. You couldn't see properly, couldn't make out where you were.

You coughed, a spatter of blood staining the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?" Satoru's voice cut through the chaos. You lifted your head, fighting to focus as you met his gaze.

"Did you just throw a fucking car at me?"

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Satoru hissed.

"You don't understand," you struggled to your feet, meeting his gaze. He looked so sad under all that fury. "I'm here to end this once and for all."

"It's over!" Satoru shouted. "Mahito's dead. Kenjaku's dead. It's done! Can't you see that?"

"It'll never be over as long as he's alive!" Blood spilled from your mouth as you screamed.

Silence.

"Don't make me hurt you," Satoru warned.

"Try it."

In a blink, Satoru was upon you. His leg swept towards your face. Your eyes widened, time seemed to crawl. You twisted your arm, drawing the katana to block. Flesh met steel. Pain shot through your arms. You gasped, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth.

Cursed energy crackled along your blade as you pushed Satoru back. He staggered but quickly regained his footing. He launched another attack. You managed to block it, then countered.

Satoru's leg came up in a swift kick to your ribs, hitting a recently healed, now likely re-broken, spot. He knew your weakness all too well. You stumbled back, pain flaring in your side.

That bastard.

"Why not use your cursed energy, Satoru?" you taunted, clutching at your side. Blood seeped through your fingers.

"I would be stupid to do so," Satoru replied with a wry smile.

He was on you again in an instant. A sharp blow grazed your cheek, sending a jolt of pain through your face. The taste of blood filled your mouth. You recoiled, slashing your katana through the air and striking the ground.

The impact created a chasm, splitting the earth so wide that Satoru was caught off-guard and fell into the void. You leapt back just in time to avoid the same fate.

Scanning the area for Yuji, you began to move towards him. You bit down on the pain that tore through your body.

But suddenly something grasped your ankle, yanking you back and sending you hurtling towards a building. At the last moment, you twisted and absorbed the impact with your feet. You heard the audible crack of a bone breaking.

Satoru quickly caught up. He lunged at you, a flurry of blows and counters followed. Sparks flew as steel met flesh. With a precise blow, you pushed him back.

He crashed into the ruins, a cloud of dust and debris momentarily hiding him from sight.

Your legs barely held you up. Pain shot through them with every movement.

Suddenly, you felt the wind caress your face and whip your hair behind you. Then, a bright red light erupted from the clouds of dust, hurtling straight towards you. The heat of Satoru's cursed energy burned your cheeks.

In the last moment before impact, you raised your katana, intercepting Satoru's attack. You struggled against it. The sheer power nearly escaped your control, but then you deflected it. The force annihilated everything to your side.

You collapsed, the world spinning as you lay there. You coughed. Blackness was everywhere. You moved your hand beneath your chest, biting down on the scream of pain as you pushed upward.

You felt the thud of Satoru's steps approaching.

Get yourself together. You're so close.

Then, Satoru stood before you.

"I didn't expect our marriage to be like this."

"As if we could ever have a normal married life," you replied, looking up at him. The words felt sharp in your throat, like knives cutting through your heart.

Satoru kneeled down in front of you, his hand gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. You forgot how to breathe as his intense blue eyes bore into yours. He looked at you as if there was still something in you worth seeing, worth loving, despite everything you had done.

"We could have that, if you would just let it happen. But you think you deserve nothing, so you ruin it. But listen to me, love. I want you, all of you-your flaws, your mistakes, your imperfections. I want you and only you. Despite everything you've done, I still love you with all that I am." His voice nearly broke. "It's not too late."

"This is greater than us, Satoru. Someone has to do it," you said, the words coming out choked and pained.

"You think I care about anything but you?" he countered firmly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your eye. "I could happily watch the world crumble to ashes, as long as you were there, standing beside me."

"You should hate me, it would be easier if you just—" you started, but he cut you off.

He silenced you with a kiss—a kiss so deep and consuming that it blurred the lines between where you ended and he began.

"I'm all yours," he whispered against your lips.

"And I'm all yours," you breathed back.

Pain.

Satoru's eyes widened in shock as he felt the pain.

He gasped, his body trembling, but he didn't fight it. His eyes remained fixed on yours. Tears streamed down your face as you held his gaze, your hand still clutching the dagger buried in his side, effectively stopping all cursed energy within him.

You stabbed him deep enough to make him unable to fight for a few seconds, but not deep enough to kill him.

That was it.

The End.

You had done what you believed needed to be done, even if it meant hurting the person you loved most.

You wished you had no heart.

➸ continue reading chapter nine (last one)

a/n: thanks you so much for reading and have a lovely day or night! ♡

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro #satoru gojo angst

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