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lostfracturess · 19 days ago

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THREE LITTLE WORDS — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary — for twenty-four years, satoru gojo has carried three little words on the tip of his tongue, never daring to speak them aloud. growing up as the strongest sorcerer comes with its burdens, and loving someone means putting them at risk. but when you're about to marry someone else, satoru finally realizes that sometimes the biggest risk is never taking one at all.

word count — 7.4 k

genre/tags — childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, protective gojo, idiots in love

warnings — no explicit content (only kissing), mild violence mentions, references to injuries, angst, alcohol use, mentions of arranged marriages, family pressure, reference to assassination attempts

author's note — hey lovelies, with everything that's going on rn, i wanted to write something cute to maybe make someone smile today. there's a little bit of angst in this (sorry, yk me), but mostly it's (bitter)sweet moments. and i tried to keep it somewhat canon-compliant, but maybe not really. and i've written this with gender-neutral pronouns to ensure everyone can see themselves in this story. if you notice any places where i might have slipped up, please let me know.

masterlist

Three little words.

Just eight letters that had lived on the tip of Satoru Gojo's tongue for what felt like forever, desperately wanting to spill from his lips every time he saw you.

Three words that had haunted him through the years, through scraped knees and graduation gowns, through first dates and near-death experiences.

I love you.

Simple words that carried the weight of universes, that could change everything — or destroy it all. And so, he'd held them back, let them sit heavy in his chest, like a weight that pressed against his lungs with every breath.

Because loving a Gojo wasn't easy. It never had been.

Love had always been a foreign concept to him. Growing up in the Gojo clan meant learning about power before learning about affection, mastering close combat before understanding emotions.

Love was abstract, complex, something other people seemed to grasp naturally while he watched from behind barriers of privilege and power.

But with you? With you, it had been as clear as breathing.

It hadn't been the dramatic, earth-shattering revelation movies always promised. Instead, it was quiet, constant, like realizing the sun had always been there, warming his skin. It was in the way you shared your lunch without being asked, how you never flinched when his powers flared, how you rolled your eyes at his dramatics but smiled anyway.

Love had been the easiest thing in the world when it came to you. Understanding it, feeling it, living it — that part was simple.

It was everything else that was complicated.

Because Satoru knew what happened to people the Gojos loved. He'd seen it, lived it, carried the weight of those consequences since before he could walk. Love, in his world, wasn't just about feelings — it was about target signs and weaknesses, about giving your enemies a roadmap straight to your heart.

And your heart? That was something he couldn't bear to put at risk.

So he had learned to swallow those words, to tuck them away behind smirks and jokes and casual touches that never lasted quite long enough. He had become an expert at loving you silently, at pouring all those unspoken feelings into small acts of protection, of care, of presence.

Some days, the words would claw at his throat like living things, desperate to escape. On those days, he'd find himself watching you — the way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the simple fact of your existence in his complicated world — and the urge to confess would be almost unbearable.

But then he'd remember all the attempts on his life, all the enemies who would love nothing more than to hurt him through you, all the danger that came with the name Gojo, and the words would retreat back into his chest where they lived like a constant ache.

Loving you had been the easiest thing Satoru had ever done. Keeping that love silent had been the hardest.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 6 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The first time Satoru realized he wanted to say those words to you, he had been six years old and you were crying because some older kids stole your favorite crayon. You had both been sitting in the reading corner of your kindergarten classroom, and your tears were making his chest hurt in a way he didn't understand.

"Don't cry," he had said, reaching out to pat your head like his mom did when he was sad. "I'll get it back for you."

You had sniffled, looking up at him with those wide, watery eyes that made his little heart skip. "But they're bigger than you."

He had puffed up his chest. "So? I'm stronger."

Before you could stop him, he had marched right up to the group of second graders during recess. They towered over him, but Satoru hadn't cared. He was a Gojo, after all, and Gojos didn't back down.

Ten minutes later, he had been sitting in the principal's office with a bloody nose and a black eye, but clutched triumphantly in his hand was your favorite crayon. The principal had called his parents, of course. There was talk of his "concerning behavior" and "excessive force," but all Satoru could think about was how your whole face had lit up when he handed you back that crayon.

That night, as his mother tucked him into bed, she had asked him why he did it. And he simply said because you were sad.

His mother had given him a look that he wouldn't understand until years later. "The Gojo men have always been weak to those they love," she had told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He had wanted to tell you then, as you colored together the next day, carefully sharing that rescued crayon. The words had bubbled up in his chest like soda fizz, but he had swallowed them down. Because even at six, he knew that being around him meant trouble, and he didn't want to see you cry again.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 12 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Middle school had brought new challenges and new reasons to keep those words locked away.

Satoru had started to understand what it meant to be a Gojo — the weight of the name, the expectations, the suffocating responsibilities that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

You were still there, though, somehow always by his side despite the chaos that surrounded him. When other kids whispered about his family, about the strange things that happened around him, you just rolled your eyes and shared your lunch with him like nothing was wrong.

He had nearly said it one autumn afternoon when you were both sprawled on your bedroom floor, supposedly doing homework but really just talking about nothing and everything. The late sunlight had caught your features just right, and you were laughing at something stupid he had said, and the words had almost slipped out.

But then his phone had rung. It had been his father, summoning him to an urgent clan meeting.

Another reminder of the life that awaited him — endless meetings about maintaining the Gojo name, about upholding traditions centuries old, about sacrificing personal happiness for the sake of the clan's future.

As he had sat in that austere meeting room, surrounded by stern-faced elders discussing bloodlines and duties and arranged marriages, all he could think about was your laugh from earlier that afternoon. How free it had sounded, how untainted by the weight of expectations and tradition.

How could he tell you he loved you when being with him meant dragging you into this world of rigid traditions and suffocating responsibilities? When loving him meant you might have to give up everything you held dear?

So he had swallowed the words once again, buried them deep, even as they burned in his chest like embers that refused to die. Because he would rather suffer in silence than watch the weight of the Gojo name dim the spark in your eyes.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 16 ⁺ 　 . ✦

High school was when Satoru had started deliberately pushing people away. He had built walls of arrogance and casual flirtation, keeping everyone at arm's length while making it look effortless. He dated casually, never seriously, and cultivated a reputation as someone who didn't do relationships.

Everyone had bought it except you.

You saw right through him, just like you always had. You called him out on his bullshit, threw erasers at his head when he was being particularly obnoxious, and somehow still showed up at his house with his favourite sweets when he was sick.

"Your ego's getting too big for this classroom," you'd tell him whenever he started showing off. He'd just grin and make it worse, because your exasperated sighs had become his favorite sound.

During lunch breaks, while others gathered around his desk trying to get his attention, you'd just roll your eyes and steal food from his plate. He'd pretend to be annoyed, but he had started packing extra of your favorites, just to watch you light up when you found them.

High school had also been the time when the clan's pressure had threatened to crush him. Every day brought new expectations, new techniques to master, new reminders that he wasn't just Satoru but the future of the Gojo clan.

He never told you, but your presence had kept him sane. You had been the only one allowed to see him practice with his cursed technique, sitting on the sidelines of the training grounds doing homework while he worked himself to exhaustion.

On the days when the pressure of being the strongest got too heavy, you'd wordlessly share your earbuds with him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder while some silly pop song played between you. And you'd hold his hand, and he'd squeeze back so tight it almost hurt.

In those moments, the words had been right there, sitting on his tongue. But he couldn't. Not when your friendship was the one pure thing in his complicated life.

But the words had nearly escaped one night when you were both sneaking back into town after a concert two cities over. You had been wearing his jacket because you forgot yours, and you were singing off-key to some pop song on the radio, and his heart had felt so full it might burst.

But then he had spotted a car that had been following them for the last twenty minutes, and instead of confessing, he had to lose the tail while pretending everything was fine. You never noticed, too caught up in your impromptu karaoke session, and he had been grateful for that at least.

He had driven you home in silence after that, the words buried so deep he could barely breathe around them. You had fallen asleep against the window, blissfully unaware of how close he'd come to changing everything between you.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 18 ⁺ 　 . ✦

College had brought a new kind of torture. Because then he had to watch you date other people, normal people who didn't have assassination attempts over breakfast or cursed energy that could level cities.

He still kept you close, though. He couldn't help it. You were his gravity, his true north, the one constant in his chaotic life. You were still the person who brought him coffee during all-nighters, who listened to his ridiculous theories at 3 AM, who somehow knew exactly when he needed a hug even though he'd never admit it.

The campus had whispered about it — about how the untouchable Satoru Gojo let you into his space so easily, how you were the only one who could barge into his dorm at any hour without fear of consequence.

They wondered what made you special, what kind of hold you had over him. If they only knew how many times he had bitten back those three words when you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder during late-night study sessions, or how his heart had nearly burst when you'd chosen to spend the evening with him instead of going to that party your crush had invited you to.

The words had almost broken free during your sophomore year, when you had shown up at his door at midnight, crying because someone broke your heart. He had held you while you sobbed, stroked your hair, and plotted seventeen different ways to destroy the person who hurt you (he had only acted on three of them, and nobody could prove anything).

He remembered how you had curled into his side that night, hiccupping through tears about how you "just wanted someone who understood you."

The irony had burned in his throat — he understood you better than anyone, had mapped every constellation of your moods and meanings, had memorized every shade of your smile.

But understanding wasn't enough when being with him meant inheriting all his complications.

You had fallen asleep in his bed that night, wrapped in his favorite hoodie, and he had spent hours just watching you breathe, his heart aching with how much he wanted to keep you there forever.

When morning came, you had smiled at him over coffee and thanked him for being "the best friend anyone could ask for," and each word had felt like a knife between his ribs.

He had wanted to tell you then, had wanted to show you how you should be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally. But he knew he couldn't offer you the normal life you deserved, so he had swallowed the words again and just held you tighter.

Instead, he had channeled all those unspoken feelings into being the kind of friend you needed. He walked you home from late parties, threatened anyone who looked at you wrong and pretended it didn't kill him every time you gushed about a new crush.

What you had never told him was that each crush faded as quickly as it came, because somehow they all fell short of the impossible standard he had unknowingly set.

He became an expert at loving you from arm's length, at being everything you needed while hiding how much he needed you.

The worst part was how naturally it all came to him — how easy it was to be the one you turned to, to be your safe harbor in every storm. Because loving you had always been as natural as breathing, even when it hurt.

Especially when it hurt.

College became an impossible balance of keeping you close enough to stay in your life but far enough away to keep his heart from completely shattering.

He dated casually, built up his reputation as someone who didn't do commitment, all while knowing that the only person he'd ever wanted to commit to was right there, wearing his hoodies and stealing his fries and completely oblivious to how much power you held over him.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 22 ⁺ 　 . ✦

After graduation, you had both somehow ended up in the same city. Different jobs, different lives, but still orbiting each other like you always had.

You dated other people, and so did he (sort of), but you still met for coffee every Wednesday and dinner every Sunday, still texted each other random thoughts at inappropriate hours.

Those Wednesday coffee meetings had become sacred. He'd show up at your workplace, two cups in hand — one with less sugar but lots of milk, the way you liked it, and his own ridiculously sweet like his smile, as you always teased.

He had memorized your schedule, knew which days you worked late, which mornings you had important meetings. On the nights when your job kept you at the office past midnight, he'd lurk nearby, pretending he just happened to be in the area when you finally emerged exhausted.

You'd roll your eyes but accept his offer to walk you home, and he'd fight the urge to take your hand every step of the way.

Sunday dinners were even worse for his heart. Sometimes you'd cook (badly), sometimes he'd order in (expensively), but it always felt so domestic it hurt.

The way you'd steal bites from his plate, like you always used to do, how you'd curl up on his couch afterward like you belonged there, the casual way you'd rest your feet in his lap while watching movies — it was everything he wanted and nothing he could keep.

The words had nearly escaped during one of those Sunday dinners, when you were both a little drunk on wine and nostalgia, laughing about all the trouble you had gotten into growing up. You had looked at him with such fondness, such understanding, and he had almost broken.

"Remember when you punched that guy at the bar who wouldn't leave me alone?" you had asked, cheeks flushed from wine and laughter.

"Which time?" he had replied, only half-joking. There had been several instances, each one burning in his memory because how dare anyone make you uncomfortable.

"All of them," you had laughed, reaching over to poke his cheek. "My hero."

The word had squeezed his heart like a fist. Hero. If only you knew how selfish his protection had always been, how each act of defending you had been as much about his own possessive need to keep you safe as it was about your wellbeing.

You had shifted closer on the couch then, laying your head on his shoulder in that casual way that always made his breath catch and his fingers had itched to run through your hair, to tilt your face up to his, to finally close the distance he'd been maintaining for so many years.

The words had risen in his throat like a tide. But then his phone had buzzed with an alert about another threat, another mission, another reason why loving him was dangerous, and he had bitten his tongue until he tasted blood.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 25 ⁺ 　 . ✦

It had gotten harder as the years passed. Harder to watch you live your life, harder to keep pretending he didn't want to be more than your best friend, harder to keep those three words locked away.

He had started taking more dangerous missions, throwing himself into his work with reckless abandon. Because if he was busy fighting curses and saving the world, he couldn't think about how much he wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to finally let those words free.

At least, that's what he had told himself as he accepted increasingly risky assignments, each one a little more dangerous than the last.

The other sorcerers had started calling him reckless. But how could he explain that facing down cursed spirits was easier than facing the way you looked at him with such concern? That physical pain was a welcome distraction from the constant ache in his chest?

But you were still there, still calling him out when he was being stupid, still patching him up when he came back injured, still looking at him like he was someone beyond his name and his power.

He always saved one small injury for you to tend to — a scrape here, a bruise there — even though his reversed cursed technique had already healed the worst of his wounds. It had become your ritual, you'd patch him up at your apartment, your coffee table covered in supplies that he didn't really need, both of you pretending this wasn't an elaborate excuse to be close to each other.

"You're going to get yourself killed one of these days," you had muttered one particularly bad night, hands trembling slightly as you cleaned a gash on his forehead that would have healed on its own in seconds. But he had let you fuss over it anyway, selfishly savoring every gentle touch.

The words had almost broken free one night when you were stitching up a particularly nasty wound on his side. Your hands had been gentle but your lecture was harsh, telling him off for being so careless with his life.

He could have healed it himself — you both knew that — but he had wanted your hands on him, even if they came with a scolding.

"You're not immortal, you idiot," you had said, and there were tears in your eyes that made his heart clench. "I know you think you're invincible, but you're not. What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

The raw emotion in your voice had nearly undone him. He had wanted to tell you then that he only acted so reckless because loving you from afar was slowly killing him anyway. That every mission, every fight, was just another way to exhaust himself enough that he wouldn't do something stupid like confess his feelings and ruin everything between you.

Instead, he had just made a joke about being too pretty to die, and pretended not to notice when you wiped your eyes. But he had caught your hand as you turned away, held it perhaps a moment too long, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in what he hoped felt like reassurance.

Your apartment had become his retreat those days. He would show up at odd hours, sometimes bleeding, sometimes just exhausted, and you would let him in without question. You never asked why he came to you instead of using his technique to heal himself. Maybe you had known, just like he had, that these moments weren't really about the injuries at all.

There had been nights when he'd fall asleep on your couch, lulled by the sound of you moving around your apartment, by the domestic comfort of knowing you were near. He'd wake up to find himself covered with a blanket, a glass of water on the coffee table, and his heart would ache with how much he wanted this to be his everyday reality.

Sometimes, in his weaker moments, he'd catch himself watching you as you worked on your laptop, curled up in the armchair across from him. The soft glow of the screen would wash over your features, and he'd think about how easy it would be to cross that small distance, to finally tell you everything he'd been holding back.

But then he'd remember the last mission, the close calls, the enemies who were getting stronger and bolder, and he'd force himself to look away. Because loving him had always come with a price, and he wasn't willing to make you pay it.

So he had buried those feelings deeper, thrown himself into more missions, and pretended that the ache in his chest was from the fights and not from loving you so much it physically hurt.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 28 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The breaking point had come, as these things often did, on an ordinary day.

You had both been in your apartment, having one of your regular movie nights. You were wearing old sweatpants and one of his hoodies that you had stolen years ago, there were takeout containers scattered across your coffee table, and you were arguing about whether the movie's plot made any sense.

It had been so normal, so comfortable, so perfectly you and him that something in his chest finally cracked.

Because he had realized, watching you gesture wildly about the movie's plot holes, that he had been an idiot. He had spent over two decades trying to protect you by keeping his distance, but you had been in danger this whole time anyway. Because everyone who knew him knew that you were his weakness, his soft spot, the one person who could bring the great Satoru Gojo to his knees.

And you had stayed anyway. Through every fight, every danger, every close call, you had chosen to stay in his life. You had patched his wounds, celebrated his victories, mourned his losses, and never once asked for anything in return except his friendship.

That night, he had decided tomorrow would be the day. No more waiting, no more excuses. He would finally tell you everything.

He had barely slept, spending hours picking out the perfect flowers, hoping they would help say everything his heart had been trying to tell you for years. He had practiced the words in his mirror, ran through a dozen different speeches, each one feeling more inadequate than the last.

But when he had arrived at your apartment building that morning, flowers clutched in sweaty palms and heart thundering in his chest, he had seen them through your living room window. You weren't alone. Someone else was there, someone who had made you throw your head back in laughter, who had pulled you close with an ease that made his chest constrict.

He had watched, frozen on the sidewalk, as you reached up to brush something from their cheek, the gesture so tender it had felt like a physical blow. The flowers in his hands had suddenly felt like they were made of lead.

Satoru had stood there for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, watching you be happy with someone else, watching you shine so brightly for another person. Then, with movements that felt mechanical, he had dropped the flowers in a nearby trash can and walked away.

Three words, still unspoken, had burned in his throat with every step.

For weeks after that, he had thrown himself into missions like a madman, taking on the most dangerous assignments he could find. Anything to avoid thinking about how he had waited too long, how he had lost his chance.

But then you had called him one night, voice slightly slurred from wine, asking him to come over. And like always, he couldn't refuse you.

That's how he had found himself back in your apartment, watching you pace back and forth, ranting about how empty it all felt. How you had tried to move on, tried to find what everyone said you should want — a normal relationship, a simple life, someone safe.

"But it's not right," you had said, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "Nothing feels right. They're nice, they're perfect on paper, but—"

"But what?" he had asked, his heart in his throat.

"But they're not you," you had whispered, the words hanging in the air between you like suspended stars.

A movie had still been playing in the background, forgotten as you both stood there, years of unspoken feelings spilled on the floor. The weight of your confession had made it hard to breathe, and for a moment, just a moment, he had let himself imagine what it would be like to close the distance between you, to finally say the words that had lived in his heart for so long.

But then his phone had buzzed in his pocket — another threat, another reminder — and reality came crashing back.

"You can't," he had said, his voice rougher than he'd intended. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" You had taken a step toward him, and he had forced himself to take one back, watching hurt flash across your face. "Satoru, I've waited—"

"Then stop waiting," he had cut you off, hating himself for the way his words made you flinch. "This isn't—we can't—" A pause. "Do you know how many attempts there have been on my life this month alone? How many enemies would love to know that the great Satoru Gojo has someone he—" He had caught himself before the word 'loves' could escape. "Someone he cares about?"

"I'm not afraid—"

"Well, I am!" The words had burst from him with more force than he'd intended, making you both freeze. "I am terrified, okay? Because everyone I've ever—everyone who gets close to me ends up with a target on their back. And you—" His voice had softened despite himself. "You deserve better than that. Better than looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, better than wondering if each goodbye might be the last."

"That's not your choice to make," you had said quietly, and the resignation in your voice had been worse than anger would have been.

"Yes, it is. Because I'm the one who would have to live with it if something happened to you because of me." He had straightened his shoulders, pulled on the mask he wore for everyone else — cold, untouchable, removed. "Go back to them. Find someone normal. Someone safe. Someone who can give you the life you deserve."

"And what about what I want?"

"Sometimes what we want isn't what's best for us." The words had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You had looked at him for a long moment, tears gathering in your eyes, and he had dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching for you. Finally, you had nodded once, sharp and hurt.

"Get out."

He had turned to leave, each step feeling like he was walking through concrete. At the door, he had paused, his hand on the handle.

"I'm sorry," he had whispered, not turning around. Because if he had looked at you then, his resolve would have crumbled entirely.

The soft click of the door closing behind him had sounded like the end of everything.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 30 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Two years of carefully maintained distance had felt like an eternity. The clan's pressure had mounted with each passing month — meetings about bloodlines, about duty, about carrying on the Gojo name. His parents had finally put their foot down, presenting him with a list of "suitable" candidates from other prestigious families.

Satoru had turned it into something of an art form, really — how to be just obnoxious enough, just impossible enough, that each carefully selected partner would run screaming for the hills without him technically refusing anyone.

"This is getting ridiculous," his mother had sighed after the seventh failed meeting. "Are you going to chase away every eligible human on this earth?"

Yes, he had wanted to say. Because none of them were you.

You still texted occasionally — surface-level messages about holidays or birthdays, the kind of distant politeness that felt wrong after decades of intimacy. He had saved every message anyway, re-reading them late at night when missions left him too restless to sleep.

Your contact photo was still the same one from college, you resting your head on his shoulder, laughing at something he’d said. He couldn’t bring himself to change it.

Sometimes he'd catch glimpses of you around the city. You'd cut your hair, changed jobs, moved to a new apartment. He knew all this from the careful distance he maintained, from the reports he definitely didn't ask Ijichi to give him.

You seemed... fine. Happy, even. It was what he'd wanted, he told himself. You, safe and happy, even if it was without him.

The invitation had arrived on a Tuesday.

The envelope had been cream-colored, expensive. His name written in elegant calligraphy that had made his stomach drop before he'd even opened it. Inside, the words had blurred together, except for the ones that mattered.

You were getting married.

To someone safe. Someone normal. Someone who could give you everything he couldn't.

The invitation had sat on his coffee table for days, taunting him. He'd catch himself staring at it during his morning coffee, during late-night mission reports, during every quiet moment when his mind wasn't occupied with staying alive.

Your handwritten note had been worse than the formal invitation.

'I'd really like you to be there. Please come.'

His phone had been in his hand before he'd realized it, your number still muscle memory after all this time. The cursor had blinked at him mockingly as he'd tried to formulate a response.

'Congratulations,' he had finally typed, each letter feeling like a small death. 'I'll be there.'

Because of course he would be. He'd sit there and watch you marry someone else, would paste on a smile and give a toast if asked, would pretend his heart wasn't being ripped from his chest with every word of the ceremony.

It was what he deserved, really. He had pushed you away, had made the choice for both of you, had convinced himself it was for the best. This was the consequence of his protection, the price of keeping you safe.

He had gotten drunk that night, alone in his apartment, surrounded by the ghosts of all the words he'd never said. The three most important ones still burned in his throat, unspoken after all these years.

His phone had buzzed with your reply. 'Thank you. It means a lot.'

Four words that had somehow hurt worse than the invitation itself.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day of your wedding had dawned grey and miserable, as if the weather itself was matching Satoru's mood. He'd been away on a mission until the last possible moment, taking out his frustration on cursed spirits with perhaps more violence than strictly necessary.

He had arrived at the venue late, soaked from the rain, his suit probably ruined. But he'd promised to be there, and he'd never broken a promise to you before. He wasn't about to start now, even if it killed him.

But when he had made his way inside, he'd immediately sensed the chaos inside. Hushed, worried voices had carried through the open doors. "Has anyone seen them?" "The ceremony should have started twenty minutes ago." "Check the dressing room again!"

But Satoru had known exactly where to find you.

The venue's grounds had stretched back to a small lake, and there, beneath an old maple tree whose leaves provided little shelter from the rain, you had stood. Your wedding outfit was getting steadily soaked, but you hadn't seemed to notice or care, staring out at the rippling water.

He had approached slowly, drinking in the sight of you. Even with dirt stained cloths and dripping hair, you had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Everyone's looking for you," he had said softly.

You hadn't turned around. "I know."

"Three hundred people in there wondering where you've gone."

"Three hundred and one, now that you're here." Your voice had been quiet, almost lost in the rain. "Why are you here, Satoru?"

"You invited me."

"That's not what I meant." Finally, you had turned to face him, and the look in your eyes had made his heart stutter. "Why are you really here?"

He had taken a step closer, drawn to you like gravity, like always. "You know why."

"Do I?" Your voice was so small. "Because I thought I knew, once. I thought I knew a lot of things. But then you pushed me away, told me to find someone safe, someone normal." You had gestured toward the building behind you. "Well, I did. So why are you here?"

"I—"

He had caught sight of a small cut on his cheekbone in a puddle's reflection — the one injury he hadn't healed, the one he'd kept out of habit, out of the memory of your gentle hands patching him up all those years.

Your eyes had followed his, landing on the cut. Without seeming to think about it, you had reached up, fingers ghosting over the wound like they had a thousand times before. The familiar gesture had nearly broken him.

"Don't marry them," he had whispered.

"What?"

"Don't marry them," he had whispered again. "Please."

"Why not?" The question had been barely a whisper. "Give me a reason, Satoru. One real reason why I shouldn't walk back in there and marry someone who actually wants me."

"Because—" The words had stuck in his throat, years of habit holding them back.

"I love you," he had whispered, the words falling into the rain-soaked space between you, and suddenly he could breathe again. Twenty-four years of holding back, of swallowing those words, of carrying them like stones in his chest — and now they were free, floating in the air between you like butterflies finally released from their cage.

"I love you," he had said again, stronger this time. "I've loved you since we were kids. I've loved you through every fight, every mission, every time I tried to push you away for your own good. I've loved you so long I don't remember what it feels like not to love you."

"You—" Your voice had broken. "You idiot. You're telling me this now? When there are three hundred people waiting inside? When I've spent months trying to convince myself I could love someone else?"

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry, but—"

"Shut up," you had breathed, and then you had pulled him down by his lapels and kissed him.

He had kissed you back like a drowning man finding air, like coming home after a lifetime of wandering. Your lips had been cold from the rain but soft against his, and when you had melted against him, he'd felt something in his chest finally slot into place.

Years of careful control had shattered like glass, and he had wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you clean off the ground in a surge of desperate joy. You had gasped against his mouth, and he had taken the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pouring decades of longing into it.

He had spun you around, your hands threading through his wet hair as he held you against him like he was afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. Rain had continued to fall around you, but neither of you had noticed or cared.

His hands had splayed across your back, holding you impossibly closer as he kissed you like a man starved, like he was trying to make up for every kiss he should have given you over the years.

When you had broken apart, you were both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together as the rain continued to fall around you. Your fingers had still been twisted in his jacket, and his hand had still been cradling your face like you were something precious, something he couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch.

The weight of all those unspoken words, all those careful distances he'd maintained, all those moments he'd held himself back — it had all lifted away like mist in the morning sun. For the first time in twenty-four years, he had felt truly, completely free.

"You're so stupid," you had whispered, but you hadn't moved away. "There are three hundred people in there, expectations, plans, a whole life I'm supposed to—"

"Run away with me."

"What?"

"Run away with me," he had repeated, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. "Right now. Let me take you anywhere you want to go. Let me spend the rest of my life making up for lost time, for every moment I was too scared to love you the way you deserved."

"Satoru—"

"I know it's selfish," he had continued, words tumbling out like he couldn't hold them back anymore. "I know I have no right to ask this of you, not after pushing you away. But I can't— I can't watch you marry someone else. I can't spend the rest of my life wondering what if, knowing I let you go without fighting for you."

You had laughed, the sound wavering between tears and joy. "You really are the most impossible man I've ever met."

"Is that a yes?"

"My parents will never forgive me."

"I'll win them over."

"The clan will be furious."

"Let them be."

"Everyone will talk."

"Let them talk." He had cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the rain and tears on your cheeks. "I don't care about any of that. I just care about you. About us. Everything else… we'll figure it out together."

"Together," you had repeated softly, like you were testing the word. "You won't push me away again? Try to protect me by leaving?"

"Never again," he had promised. "I'm done running. Done pretending I don't love you more than anything in this world. Done letting fear keep me from the only thing that's ever really mattered."

You had searched his face for a long moment, and he had let you see everything — all the love, the fear, the desperate hope he'd kept hidden for so long.

Finally, you had smiled, bright and real, the smile he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Take me away from here," you had said, and his heart had soared. "Show me what it's like when Satoru Gojo finally stops holding back."

He hadn't needed to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he had swept you into his arms, your surprised laugh warming something deep in his chest.

"What about everything inside? My things, the guests—"

"I'll send Ijichi to handle it," he had said, already walking away from the venue, from the life you'd almost had without him. "Right now, all that matters is you and me."

"And where exactly are you taking me?"

"Anywhere you want," he had promised, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Everywhere. We have a lifetime of moments to make up for, after all."

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your face against his shoulder. "I love you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear."

He had tightened his hold on you, something fierce and protective and overwhelmingly tender swelling in his chest. "Say it again."

"I love you, Satoru Gojo," you had whispered against his neck. "I always have."

As he had carried you away from the venue, the rain had finally begun to let up, sunlight breaking through the clouds. A new beginning, he had thought.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Looking back, Satoru couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. All those years wasted, all that time spent pushing you away when he could have been holding you close. He'd thought he was protecting you, but in reality, he'd just been protecting himself from the terrifying vulnerability of being truly, completely loved.

Because that's what you did — you loved him entirely, unconditionally, with a fierce devotion that still took his breath away. You loved him through the dangerous missions and the late-night emergencies, through the clan meetings and the political drama. You loved him through the nightmares and the victories, through every high and low that came with being Satoru Gojo.

Life wasn't perfect, of course. There were still threats, still enemies who thought they could use you to get to him. But they had learned, quickly and painfully, that you weren't some helpless weakness to exploit. You were his strength, his anchor, his reason for coming home safely every time.

Those old fears seemed ridiculous now. Because yes, loving him came with dangers — but you had always known that, had always chosen him anyway. And together, you were so much stronger than apart.

The clan had been furious about the wedding scandal, of course. But it was hard to maintain their anger when you handled every social situation with grace, when you proved yourself more than capable of standing beside the strongest sorcerer in the world.

Eventually, even the most traditional elders had to admit that perhaps the Gojo heir had chosen well after all.

Your old routine had shifted, evolved into something even better. Now when you patched up his wounds (the ones he still deliberately saved for you), he could kiss you afterward. When you fell asleep during movie nights, he could pull you close instead of maintaining that careful distance. When you brought him coffee during all-nighters, he could show his gratitude with more than just words.

The best part, though? The absolute best part was being able to say those three words whenever he wanted. And he said them constantly — whispered them against your skin in the morning, called them across rooms just to see you smile, breathed them into quiet moments like prayers.

"I love you" when you handed him his coffee, exactly how he liked it.

"I love you" when you rolled your eyes at his dramatic entrances.

"I love you" when you fell asleep on his shoulder during clan meetings.

"I love you" when you patched up injuries that didn't need patching.

"I love you" for no reason at all, just because he could, just because the words had lived in his heart for so long that letting them free still felt like a miracle.

And every time — every single time — you said it back, like you'd been waiting just as long to be able to say it freely.

Sometimes, on quiet nights when you were both home safe, he'd watch you doing something mundane — reading a book, making tea, existing in his space like you'd always belonged there — and the gratitude would hit him so hard he could barely breathe. Gratitude that you had waited, that you had loved him through his fears and his mistakes, that you had given him the chance to love you properly.

Because that's what he did now — loved you properly, openly, with everything he had. No more holding back, no more careful distance. He loved you the way you deserved to be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally.

And every day, for the rest of his life, he made sure you knew it. Three words, eight letters, repeated like a promise, like a prayer, like the most important truth he'd ever known.

I love you.

And every day, for the rest of your life, you said it back.

author's note — after editing this, i realised it's more angsty then intended but oh my i'm sorry, i can't help it. but i hope it made you smile anyway. thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this story. your support means the world to me. in these challenging times, please remember that even the darkest nights eventually give way to dawn. sending lots of love your way <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x gn!reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x gn!reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x gn!reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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dorkszn · 4 months ago

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LOGAN with bunny mutant!reader | 18+

male reader, bunny boy!reader, pet names, praise, subbot reader, slight boot riding, cowgirl, yk how hugh said he doesn’t have a safe word… how he doesn’t like to stop, tail pulling, slightly mean dom!logan, I’ve never seen any of the x-men or wolverine movies so not too much

Days where Logan is just sitting on the couch of the room you two share in the X-Mansion. Wearing a hoodie that isn’t all the way zipped up, displaying his muscular chest that you could just bury your face in for hours. And his cargos that sit a little loose around his waist despite the belt he wears.

When he’s just watching whatever is playing on the TV and you ponder into the room. Your eyes on him and him alone. Oh-so-innocent-shaped eyes with such a lustful glint in them. You just stroll over to him, blocking his view of the TV for just a split second before you’re on your knees in front of him, your chin on his knee and your core resting perfectly on his boot.

He pays you no mind, keeping his eyes on the TV. He’s doing it on purpose. A slight pout forms on your lips. “Lo,” you call out softly, looking up at him with those eyes he can never say no to. You roll your hips slightly, trying to create some friction for yourself.

“What’s up, Bub?” Logan finally acknowledges you when you call out his name, his eyes falling on yours. A small, fanged smirk grows on his face as he feels you pitifully grind yourself against his boot through the fabric of your shorts.

“Want you, Lo,” you sigh, resting your cheek against his knee. Your hands absentmindedly fidgeting with his pants leg.

“Yeah, you wanna play, darlin’?” Logan asks, still smirking down at you. You perk up at that. You enthusiastically nod against the fabric of his cargos. Logan’s eyes trail your body. Not missing the way your little cotton tail swishes feverishly behind you. The way you’re pressing yourself right against his shoe. How could he say no to that?

It’s only so long before his large, calloused hands are holding the soft flesh of your hips. He’s laid back on the couch with your legs straddling him, the muscles in them shifting as you fuck yourself on his cock. His hoodie unzipped completely and the fabric spilled onto the couch.

“Fuck, there we go, baby,” Logan groans, watching the way his thick cock disappears inside of you with each movement of your hips. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you chase that feeling, that euphoric feeling that it seems like only Logan can give you. “Pretty little bunny takin’ me so fucking good.” He says through labored breaths, his head falling back against the couch’s cushions.

Your chest heaving as you suck in him. Your gummy walls stretch around him each time he fills you again, clinging to him so perfectly. You seem to be the only one who can handle Logan and his stamina and he seems like the only one who can handle you.

“Logan~” you moan breathlessly, that knot in your stomach getting dangerously tighter with every little ‘plap’ that comes from your ass meeting his hips. Your pretty eyes hazed over with lust falling shut for a moment.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to help you? Does the little bunny need help?” Logan pants, his eyes glued to that pretty little fucked out expression on your face. And gosh, he couldn’t be happier when you nod through a shaky breath. His hands gripping your hips a little tighter as he helps you up and down his cock.

Logan’s breath quickens with every tug on your hips, every tug that makes you take him deeper. Every little moan and mewl that falls from your lips goes straight from his ears to the pit of his stomach and his groin.

His hands shifted to grab the plump flesh of your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh harshly. His legs shifting so he can fuck up into you. His hips meeting yours roughly, the quick drags of his dick stroking every inch of you dragging heavy grunts and labored breaths from Logan. Your hips stuttered to meet his.

“Oh c’mon baby, no way you’re getting tired on me already,” Logan comments, watching the way you slightly struggle to match him. He knows you too well. Suddenly, one of his hands moves from your ass to grab that soft, wagging tail that sits right where your ass and your hips meet.

“Logan—! Don’t— fucking— hah, do that,” you squeal in breathless whimpers when he roughly grabs your tail. The energy that you had seemingly lost returned as you brought your hips up again, meeting his in the perfect little rhythm.

“Aw, why not? Look how excited you get,” Logan teases, giving the scut a little tug. A weak moan of his name pulls from your throat, your finger pads that sat on his board chest pressing into the skin slightly. “C’mon, bunny boy, you wanted it, now take it like you know how to.”

A shot of pleasure shoots down your spine as you listen to his hoarse words. “Hngh— Logan, please,” you plead, leaning down and burying your face in his neck. Not quite sure what you’re pleading for but the words just mindlessly fall from your lips.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, I ain’t stopping.”

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enhaheeseung · 4 months ago

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Innocence - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung x fem reader!

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, plus size reader, alcohol consumption, cursing, dirty truth or dare, unprotected sex, oral female receiving, flirting.

Note: hello, this work was requested by @idollemon @fumasthicc sorry for the long wait I hope you enjoy it! 💋

WC: 6,360k sorry for it being so long but I had to build up to it yk😅

Masterlist

It was 9:23, and you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup. You had decided to go with a casual look, considering you were just going to hang out with a mutual friend to have drinks and watch movies at his house.

Your best friend had been invited to a house party by her friend named heeseung, and she asked if you wanted to tag along, so you agreed you didn’t have shit else to do anyways.

You knew she was only going cause Jake was going to be there, but you figured a night out wouldn’t be so bad, so you decided to accompany her, even though she’d most likely ditch you for him.

But, it was a good excuse for you to see her very hot best friend, heeseung. You hadn’t seen him around much cause you weren’t friends with him. You only knew him cause of your best friend, but those few encounters were enough for you to catch some type of feelings.

You’d never say it out loud or let anyone know, but you had a tiny little crush on him. He was tall and cute with a charming smile.

And not to mention, every time you saw him, he looked absolutely fuckable.

That’s another thing you’d never say out loud.

If your friend ever knew you thought about him like that, she’d be absolutely stunned because….

You were innocent.

At least to her and your friends, you were.

You were what most people would call the innocent type. You didn’t attend many parties. You always dressed modestly, and any time a dirty joke would get made, you’d just blush and stay quiet, not entertaining those types of things.

So if she or any of your friends knew that you wanted to fuck their best friend, it’d come as a complete shock.

You took one last look in the mirror until you were satisfied. You got a text from your friend that was notifying you that, apparently, it was going to be a sleepover since everyone would be drinking.

You responded with a thumbs-up and packed an overnight bag for the now sleepover.

Good thing heeseung lived in a mansion cause you could get your own room and not have to sleep on the couch or in the living room sprawled out all over your drunk friends.

Oh, the memories.

You arrived at his place a few minutes later than you had planned. Everybody had already settled in, and they were drinking from red plastic cups.

“There she is!” Your friend ran over to you and gave you a side hug.

“Here I am!” You smiled and hugged her back.

Jake, Jay, and yeonjun greeted you with smiles. You were close to them, so you didn’t need any introduction.

“Hey,” you greeted them back while someone watched you from across the island on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Said person took a few more steps until he was face to face with you and your best friend with his hand in his pocket and a drink in the other. “So tell me, who's your friend?” You looked over when you heard the voice and met eyes with heeseung briefly.

“Oh my gosh! You’re totally right. You two have never even met before,” your friend gasps at the realization, “Okay, heeseung, This is y/n, and y/n, this is heeseung,” she pointed back and forth between the both of you.

“Nice to finally meet you, y/n.” He reached his hand out from his pocket, and you shook it gently.

“You too,” you managed to say without stuttering at the pretty smile he gave you.

He brought your hand closer to his face and pressed a soft kiss there, gazing up at you while he did so.

You did your best not to get flustered, and thankfully, Jake saved you from the awkward moment that would have come.

“You didn’t kiss my hand when we first met,” Jake pouted playfully. You could tell he already had one too many drinks.

“Me neither,” Jay sassily stuck his hand out to Heeseung, waiting for a kiss.

Heeseung let go of your hand and rolled his eyes at the two, slapping both of their hands away from him.

You giggled slightly at the interaction. While you were getting to know heeseung, your friend had already left you to get herself another drink.

“Ignore those two,” heeseung spoke up to you again. “You want a drink?” He offers.

“No thanks, I’m good.” You politely declined.

“Oh, come on,” The offer did sound kinda good, but you shook your head softly. “Pleaseeeee, I make the best drinks ever” he whined cutely and when he said it like that, how could you say no?

“Okay, but just one,” you agreed, and he led you to his personal drink station on the kitchen counter.

“You won’t be saying that after I’m done with you,” he winked playfully, and you’re not sure if that comment was referring to the drinks or something sexual, but you just went along with it.

“We’ll see,” you smiled.

He was right cause just fifteen minutes later. He had already made you three more. “See, I told you,” heeseung said while smiling at you.

“I can’t lie. This is actually the best drink I’ve had in a while” He smiles at that and takes a seat next to you.

“How come we’re only just now meeting?” He says, resting his elbows on the counter and looking at his other friends drinking and talking.

“That’s a good question. I really don’t know either.”

“I think I know,” he chuckled, and you looked at him quizzically. “You’re always so shy and quiet.”

He was kinda right. Usually, when you’d hang out, you were always the quiet one in your friend group. In your defense, they were just a bit more on the wild side. “Am I?”

“Yeah, I wanted to say hi to you a few times a while back but decided against it cause I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything like that,” he explained, taking a small sip from his own cup.

“Really? I wouldn’t have minded talking to you though” You’re blaming the alcohol for that statement, damn you, heeseung, and your ability to make the best aqua velva on earth.

“Yeah?” He smirked and turned to look at your flushed face. And you liked to say it was the alcoholic beverage in your system making you heat up, but it wasn’t

Before anything could escalate any further, Jake was practically screaming in both of your guy's ears.

“Who’s ready to spin the bottle?” He shook yours and Heeseung’s shoulders a little too hard.

You looked over, and you could see heeseung rolling his eyes and sighing. “We’re not teenagers anymore.” He pushed Jake's hand off his shoulder and did the same for you.

“Come on, hee d-don’t be a party pooper at your own party,” Jake slurred his words.

Out of all times, Jake could talk to him. He picked the absolute worst he was just starting to make some type of progress with you, and this drunk idiot had to go and fuck it all up. “Fine, but stop screaming in my fucking ear, will you?”

“To the living room!” Jake shouted, and everyone else cheered and clambered to the living room to play spin the bottle with an empty Hennessy bottle.

Once you all gathered in a circle, Jake, of course, was the first one to spin the bottle. You were kinda nervous about playing, not knowing exactly what questions or dares would be asked, but it seemed fun, so you relaxed a little and watched as the first spin landed on Jay. Jake smiled wickedly at Jay, and you could tell what direction this game was headed in right away.

“Why me?” Jay whined.

“Truth or dare?” Jay answers with truth, too dizzy to get up and do a dare.

“If you could have sex with any of us, who would it be?” Jake says.

Jay groaned but answered nevertheless. “Myself,” he buried his face in his hands, attempting to wipe off the drunkness.

“Lame,” Jake mumbled.

“How? Do you not see all of this?” Jay pointed to himself, and Jake fake gagged, or maybe it was real, given the drinks he had.

It was now Jay's turn to spin the bottle, and it landed on heeseung, making you breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay, I got a good one,” Jay says and makes a silly face. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” heeseung muttered, obviously unamused by the game, and the last thing he was going do was say truth.

“I was hoping you’d say that” Jay looked at you whilst smiling evilly, and you panicked. Why the hell was he looking at you, and it wasn’t even your turn yet? “Heeseung, I dare you to moan in y/n’s ear for ten seconds.”

Heeseung’s eyes went wide as saucers as they met yours. That were just as wide. No wonder Jay was looking at you like that. What a little shit you thought. “What kind of dare is that?” Heeseung asks what the hell did Jay gain from embarrassing him in front of you.

“It’s one you’re about to do now, chop chop,” Jay clapped his hands.

You blushed at just the thought, and you felt tingles in the pit of your stomach. You hated to think like this, but you actually weren’t opposed to the idea. You didn’t want to make Heeseung uncomfortable, so you interjected.

“Well, we just met, so I thi-” Jake immediately interrupted.

“Y/n shut up, heeseung moan,” Jake cut you off while you and heeseung both glared at him.

Heeseung looked at you for approval, and you nodded softly as he scooted closer to you. You could feel his breath fanning across your ear, and you got goosebumps all over your body.

The whole group cringed but laughed at the same time as they watched you becoming more and more flustered by the second.

Heeseung was nervous, to say the least. What if you thought he sounded disgusting? What if you were grossed out? What if you thought he was mimicking a dying whale, and you wouldn’t want to talk to him after tonight?

Ultimately he said fuck it, it was a dare, not the end of the world, even if it felt like it.

The first moan was more like a shaky breath followed by a tiny whimper, and your head was already spinning just imagining how much hotter he’d sound behind closed doors.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip cause if you didn’t, you would have moaned yourself. You looked around and saw the whole friend group laughing at the scene, but you didn’t care. You were too focused on the way he sounded as he was now full-on moaning and almost grunting in your ear.

You discreetly rubbed your legs together as he finally pulled away from you after what was probably a little longer than ten seconds.

He leaned back and saw your flustered face, and that let him know that you, in fact, did not think he sounded like a dying whale, and he was thanking the stars.

Heeseung cleared his throat, quickly moving on with the game and spinning the bottle. He smiled at Jay just as evilly. Now, it was time for his revenge. “Truth or dare?”

Jay gulped, knowing he was fucked either way. “Truth and dare,” he said, making you giggle as he downed the rest of his shot.

Heeseung just shook his head at his very stupid friend. “Look at yeonjun and make your orgasm face.”

You turned to heeseung for the first time since he completed his dare. “That’s evil,” you giggled.

“Not evil, just payback.” He smiled and winked at you.

You would have lived happily ever after if it wasn’t for the sight in front of you. Jay had his mouth parted, and his eyebrows creased together while looking at yeonjun, who looked at him horrified like the rest of you.

Luckily, it only lasted a few seconds cause if it had gone on any longer, you would have all been blind.

It was yeonjuns turn to spin the bottle, and it finally happened it landed on you. “Truth or dare, my precious little y/n?” He said sweetly, but you knew his intentions were not as sweet.

Heeseung discreetly rolled his eyes after hearing the nickname yeonjun gave you.

“Dare?” You said more of a question as you squinted your eye.

“Perfect, I dare you to look at the person to your left” fuck, heeseung was to your left. “And eat a banana as sexily as possible.” He clapped his hands. He noticed heeseung had been shamelessly checking you out all night, so he decided he’d do him a little favor cause he wasn’t an asshole like Jay.

Your jaw dropped to the floor. How the hell were you gonna do that?

Jake did the honors and came running back to the living room with a banana. “Y/n, you don’t have to-, “Heeseung tried to speak.

“Heeseung, you’re not her dad. She can speak for herself,” Jay butted in.

“It’s fine. It's just a dare, right?” You said to heeseung as you peeled the banana.

“Right,” he breathed out. He couldn’t lie. He was probably more excited about this than Jake was about playing Spin the Bottle.

You turned your body to face him fully. You swirled your tongue around the tip teasingly, and you saw heeseung visibly gulp. You laughed shyly and began licking the banana, pretending it was his shaft instead. Once you defiled the poor banana, you took half of it in your mouth with your lips wrapped tightly around it. You blinked your eyelashes while doing so, loving the expression on heeseung’s face as he watched you.

“Fuck” he cursed under his breath. His eyes had already darkened, and he had his lip caught between his teeth.

Finally, you ended your little show as you pulled off the banana with a quiet pop sound.

The room had gone completely silent, and you looked around to see all the boys gawking at you with their mouths hanging open. “Hope you enjoyed the show” You winked at Yeonjun.

Heeseung couldn’t help but to think maybe you weren’t as innocent as you were letting on, and boy, would he do anything to find that out after seeing you suck on that banana.

“Okay, now I’m hard,” Jay jokingly said, and heeseung glared at him while Jay lifted his hands up in defense.

You spun the bottle next, and it landed on your best friend. “Truth or dare?” You already knew what you had planned for her if it was dare.

“Dare,” she chimed.

Perfect. You thought.

“I dare you and Jake to play seven minutes in heaven.” She blushed instantly and looked at Jake, who was already blushing and smiling.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Jake stumbled as he sat up and dragged her to the nearest closet.

“Why couldn’t I get that dare?” Jay groaned.

“Cause you don’t deserve it.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

“You better hope this bottle does not land on you,” Jay murmured as it was his turn to spin the bottle once again.

Unfortunately, it did, and you sighed, picking truth this time. “So, y/n, when’s the last time you’ve touched yourself.” He smirked.

Why was he doing this to you?

You grew flustered. Did you really have to answer truthfully? There’s no way he’d know the real truth. “A month, maybe longer,” you lied.

“Aww, I should have known our little angel is too innocent for that,” you giggled nervously, thankful that none of them seemed to have detected your lie.

Heeseung again rolled his eyes. Why was everyone all over you tonight?

Your friend and Jake had just come back from the closest, and they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other ever since the dare you gave them.

After a few more spins and unmentionable dares, you all decided to call it quits for the night and watch a movie instead, seeing how everyone but you and heeseung were drunk out of their minds. You were both still a little tipsy, though.

You all decided to change into comfortable clothes before starting the movie.

Jake was sitting with your friend, Jay was on the rocking chair while you and heeseung sat at the back on the couch, and Yeonjun decided to lie on the floor for some odd reason.

About an hour into the movie, you had covered yourself with a sheet that heeseung had lying around. You felt something land on your thighs, and you looked down to see that heeseung had rested his head on your lap.

Within an hour of the movie, heeseung started to get a bit sleepy and rested his head on what he thought was the couch until he felt your thick thighs tensing under his head slightly at the contact.

All the lights had been turned off. Therefore, he couldn’t see where he was laying his head.

He was just about to move, but he stayed there for a few seconds longer to see what your next move would be when he felt your body relax under his head. He took that as a sign that you didn’t mind him being there.

About five minutes later, you felt his head shifting a little as he peeled the sheet down, and you could feel his teeth grazing against your thigh before he nibbled on the plump flesh gently.

Your body twitched a little, and you nearly moaned at the slightest contact.

Again, he took this as a sign and continued to sink his teeth into the soft flesh, and this time, you did accidentally moan out loud.

You quickly covered your mouth and panicked as you looked around, praying that no one heard you, and once you saw all of them focused on the movie, you breathed a sigh of relief.

Heeseung’s ears perked up at the sound of your sweet little moan.

As you instinctively ran a hand through his hair he turned around in your lap so he could face you, looking up at you and completely forgetting about the movie that was playing.

He lifted up the thin sheet and put it over his head, burying his face in your clothed cunt, inhaling the scent of your sweet arousal.

You bit your lip to conceal every noise that threatened to come out. You could feel him nosing at your clit, stimulating you through the fabric of your silk sleep shorts. You patted yourself on the back for deciding not to wear any underwear tonight.

He gripped your hip, squeezing it softly as he hummed lowly from your scent, invading his senses and the feeling of your plump waistline in his palm.

You pushed the back of his head closer to your core and spread your legs open wider, giving him a silent hint. He immediately flattened his tongue and licked over your silk shorts, and he could already feel your legs trembling beside his head.

He continued licking and sucking through the fabric, teasing your clit until the front of your shorts were damp with his saliva.

You quickly grew needy from that alone, and you needed to feel more of him. He seemed to read your mind as he slipped your shorts to the side and resumed his activities, swirling his tongue over your nub.

He wanted to tell you how good you tasted and how sweet your juices were on his tongue, but he couldn’t pull away for even a second.

You could feel his warm breath blowing against your bare pussy, sending shockwaves throughout your core as he sucked on your clit, pulling the sensitive flesh between his soft pink lips.

You spread your legs open instinctively, giving him more room to work with.

He moves his head closer to your body to get a better angle so he can use his fingers and his mouth to please you.

You had to cup your mouth when he stuck one of his thick fingers in your tight, wet hole. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head from the feeling of his digit pumping in you slowly.

He placed gentle kisses on your pubic bone, occasionally flicking his tongue over your clit as he added a second finger.

He curled his fingers upwards, brushing against the spot that made your stomach tense with pleasure as your toes started to curl. He focused on your clit, giving it a few teasing licks before latching his mouth on the bud and sucking on it, then swirling his tongue. He transitioned between each movement while digging his fingers deeper and deeper inside you.

It had been possibly five minutes before you could feel yourself getting close. Your legs were shaking, and he could feel your walls squeezing around his fingers.

He dug his nails into your side and sped up the pace of his digits. Seconds later, your hole was clenching tightly around his fingers as you came without any warning.

You ran your fingers through his hair as he slowed down and caressed your walls gently until you finished.

He applied a few more gentle kisses, and even though you had just came, you still wanted more as you bucked your hips into his face.

He smirked to himself.

So much for you being innocent, he thought.

With the unbearable throbbing between his legs, the only thing he had on his mind was fucking you into oblivion all night. He’s just been waiting for an opportunity to get you alone so he could feel your pussy. He just knew you’d feel so good, so creamy and wet, and that thought just made him even harder.

He pushed you back lightly by your hip and sat up. You were already about to protest, but he put a finger on your lips, shushing you.

He made an excuse to get you both alone, rushing out the fact that you were tired and he was going to show you your room. Everyone just murmured back in response. Apparently, they were still drunk.

Heeseung practically dragged you upstairs by your wrist and led you to one of his guest rooms on the far end of the hall, furthest away from the living room.

Without saying anything, he locks the door behind him and turns back to you, gripping your waist tightly while he moves in for a kiss somewhat between rough and gentle.

He groans against your mouth and presses your body as close to his as possible, moaning quietly when his cock brushes against you.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him in close. The action makes him stumble slightly from the force, and with that, he breaks the kiss and pushes you back on the bed gently, taking in your disheveled state, your hair now messy and your shorts riding up your thick thighs, leaving little to his imagination of what you looked like under them.

You whimpered from the way he looked while standing above you. You began feeling impatient with him not doing anything, resulting in you seeking any type of friction as you rubbed your thighs together.

He could only smirk at how needy and desperate you were, and he couldn’t help but wonder how all your friends thought you were so innocent, yet here you were, spreading your legs for him and silently asking for him to fuck you.

“You look so good like this.” He leaned down on the bed and trailed his fingertips along your legs softly. “All needy for me.” His fingers inched dangerously high as he kneaded the flesh of your thighs.

“Please,” you whimper, and you almost feel embarrassed by how easily you begged for him on just the first night of officially meeting him.

He didn’t respond, only cupping his hand over your mound, lightly stroking your throbbing cunt through your shorts.

You gripped his wrist and immediately guided his hand back and forth on your clit.

He chuckled softly, watching your face twist in pleasure. “So naughty,” he cooed while maintaining eye contact with you.

His words were drowned out by the pleasure just his hand was bringing to you, and you lifted your hips off the bed, practically fucking yourself against his palm.

It wasn’t long before he felt himself caving in at just the sight of you. His pants felt extremely tight after seeing you use his hand to get yourself off. “Fuck” he muttered to himself, adding more pressure to press against your clit rougher.

“Fuck heeseung,” you moaned loudly as his palm ran along your clit just right, and the way you moaned his name was nothing but pure music to his ears.

“That feels good, yeah, baby?” You bit your lip as your eyes rolled back into your head at his slightly teasing tone. “Gonna fuck my hand until you cum?” You were too close to respond. Instead, you did exactly that and rutted yourself on his palm as you came and cried his name out hoarsely. “You know, y/n, you’re really not as innocent as I thought,” he spoke while he kept his hand in place so you could ride out your high.

You whined in embarrassment, but you still didn’t stop rolling your hips on his palm.

“Here I am thinking you’re the sweetest little thing on earth, just so shy and quiet, but here you are getting off just from my hand like a needy little slut” He finally pulled his hand away, and you squeezed your legs together only for him to forcefully spread them back open. “Don’t bother. You’ll be spreading them again anyways.” He quickly stripped himself of his shirt and pants.

You watched him through your spread legs, clenching down around nothing as you saw his tent beneath his grey boxers. Your brows furrowed at the sight, and you blushed when you saw him smirking at you teasingly.

He slowly lifted his hand to the front of his underwear, ghosting his hand over the crotch part. His expression mirrored yours, and he bit his lip at the feeling.

Your hands gripped at the bedsheets, toes curling as he continued to touch himself before your eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him so badly.

He slowly pulled the waistband down, eyes never leaving yours as he gave you the tiniest peak of the base of his dick.

Your mouth was watering by now, and his teasing was driving you insane. He smiled at your expression, letting the fabric of his waistband snap against his hips as he let out a low whine from the slight sting.

“Please,” you let out with a shaky breath, not sure what you were even begging for. All you knew was you needed him to touch you.

“On one condition,” he says in a low voice as he hovers over you on the bed while you nod frantically. “Beg,” he whispered, and you clenched around, nothing again, feeling a trail of arousal dripping from your hole.

“Please, heeseung,” you said, too turned on to even care how desperate you sounded.

“More.” He bit his lip and spanked your inner thigh, causing you to let out a whine.

“Fuck me. Please need to feel your cock inside me so bad” You were squirming on the bed as you grew more desperate with every second that went by.

“More.” He spanked your thigh again, watching the flesh jiggle with each slap.

You were so close to tears, but you managed to do your best to get him to fuck you. “I need you so bad,” you breathed shakily. “Need you to fill my pussy up with your huge cock, and cum deep inside me, please, please, please.”

He groaned at the sound of your desperate, pleading voice. You were the furthest thing from innocent, and he was going to make you say it out loud. “Clothes off,” he said impatiently, finally pulling down his underwear.

You scrambled to take off your clothes, leaving yourself completely naked in front of him on the bed.

“So pretty,” he said as he positioned himself between your legs, finally letting you get a feel his hard throbbing cock rubbing against your wet core, causing you to moan loudly. “If I had known you were this much of a slut, I would have fucked you so much sooner” You spread your legs open further as he rolled his hips into you collecting your juices with his cock.

Your head already felt dizzy, and just the slow drag of his dick on your pussy was about to make you cum for the third time tonight.

He laid on top of you before grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist securely. “I know you would have let me too,” he teased you as he pushed his tip at your entrance but never fully inserted himself.

“You have no shame, you know?” He whispered in your ear. “Letting me fuck you, and we only just met hours ago” He moved his hand from your leg and stroked your cheek. “How do you think your friends would feel if they knew their precious y/n was begging to get fucked?”

You shied away from his touch, feeling slightly embarrassed by his words yet turned on at the same time.

“Hmm, baby? How would they feel knowing you’re so desperate for my cock that you couldn’t even finish the movie first” His voice was far sweeter than the words he spoke into your ear.

“Heeseung,” you choked out, eyes rolling in your head from all his teasing, and you couldn’t take anymore.

“What was it Jay called you?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“A-angel,” you muttered while trying to move your hips with his.

“Ah, that’s right,” he chuckles, almost like he’s mocking you. “Well, baby, if you’re an angel, what does that make me?” He didn’t give you time to answer before sinking his cock into you slowly.

You gripped his biceps tighter, feeling his muscles flexing as he held onto your thigh tightly. “Oh, heeseung,” you cried out, digging your nails into his flesh while he nestled his cock head inside you.

Your mouth was parting slightly while you panted heavily, trying to adjust to him stretching you out so far. “Goddamn baby, you’re so tight,” he grunts loudly as he feels your walls already throbbing around his length, making it nearly impossible for him to think straight.

“You’re so fucking big,” you slurred your words, already feeling dumb with the way his dick was sliding in and out of you so deliciously.

He smirked at your compliment and buried himself to the absolute hilt. “Such a dirty little mouth” He sat up on his knees and gripped your thighs so he could dig his cock deeper inside you.

You clawed at his chest. He was so deep that you could barely take it as your walls clamped down around him. “So damn tight, baby” He held back a moan and picked up the pace, thighs slapping against yours with every strong, perfectly angled thrust.

You held his waist as he plowed into you, and you couldn’t help but scream out his name. “Shh baby, unless you want them to know just how much of a whore you are for me,” he grunted out, never letting up on his frantic pace.

You didn’t even bother to hold in any moans. It was impossible with the way his thick cock felt, massaging your walls.

He moved his hands from your legs to cup your breasts, kneading them softly. “God, you take it so well,” he mutters, watching how your wet cunt swallows his big cock with ease. “You’re soaking, baby. Am I making you this wet?” He had that same teasing smirk on his face.

“Yes, all for you,” you cried out.

“So much for being innocent,” he chuckled, now hitting your spot with his thick, leaky tip.

You moaned, your body shaking with nothing but pleasure as he rubbed your nipples in small circles, overstimulating you. “I am,” you stutter out, even though you felt nothing of the sort.

“Oh baby, the look on your face and the way your slutty pussy is clenching on me tells me otherwise” He brought his hand to your mouth and rested his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open.” You pleased him greatly when you opened up immediately after and allowed two of his fingers to rest on the back of your tongue. “Suck on them,” he instructed, and you began to swirl your tongue obediently. You sucked on his fingers just like you did with the banana earlier. “Such a good little whore listening to whatever I say” He watched your drool leaking down your face as you nearly choked when he pressed down on the back of your tongue. “Letting me do what I want with you.

He busied his other hand on your clit while you sucked on his fingers with your eyes locked on his.

You moaned around his digits when he pressed down on your sensitive clit with his fingers and rubbed your nub in tight, fast circles. “Keep sucking” You continued to moan around his fingers as you squeezed his dick harshly with your aching cunt. “Gonna cum?” You nod your head as best as you can while your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. “That’s it, pretty, cream, my cock” His eyes flicked down at your pulsating pussy, and he lost it as he saw your creamy essence coating his dick. “Fuck, I’m close,” he moaned, and just the image in front of him drove him insane, your mouth stuffed with his fingers and your pretty pussy filled with his cock. “I’m so close.” his voice sounded just the same as earlier when he moaned into your ear, but in this setting, it was even hotter somehow.

The feeling of your warm mouth around his fingers and the repeated clenching of your tight cunt was the last straw. He finally let go releasing his cum into you with loud moans of your name. “Shit, this feels so good,” he whimpers as his hips start to lose rhythm, and he stills inside you, filling you to the brim until your little used cunt is dripping all his seed.

He removed his fingers from your mouth and lowered his weight on top of you, messily kissing you while his heavy breath mixed with yours into the sloppy kiss.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling his face closer to you. He raised his eyebrows at your sudden boldness and chuckled against your lips as you nibbled on his bottom lip. He parted for a breath of air and quickly glued his lips back onto yours.

When he finally pulled away from you, he was panting as he pecked your forehead and pulled out of you carefully.

He rolled over on his back and sighed as the cold sheets met his hot skin.

After a few moments of silence, he got up from the bed and went to the bathroom, grabbing a warm towel to clean you off with. “Was I okay? I didn’t go too rough, did I?” He asks with concern hoping it was enjoyable for you too.

You only smiled, wondering how his mood could change within the blink of an eye. “No, it was perfect.” You watched a look of relief overtake his features.

“I’m glad,” he muttered, and he somehow looked shy as he gently cleaned between your legs. He kissed your thigh gently once he was finished and then pecked your lips one last time. You smiled to yourself as he returned back to the bathroom.

He came back out a few seconds later and started getting dressed; once he was done, he sat back down next to you on the bed. “I should go before they notice that I’ve been gone,” he whispers to you while stroking your cheek with his thumb as you settle into bed.

“Okay,” you say a bit reluctantly. You really wished you could cuddle him all night, but he was right. Your friends would become suspicious, and the last thing you needed was to explain to them what happened, especially since you and heeseung had just met.

“I’ll come back later when everybody has gone to sleep.” You couldn’t believe your ears. You thought it was just a simple exchange and nothing more, but he actually wanted to come back? While you were caught up in your thoughts, he took your silence as you not wanting him to come back. “O-or not, I just thought maybe after you know, you might want me to sta- I don’t know,” he breathed out as he picked at his nails, refusing to make eye contact with you.

You softly gripped his chin, tilting his head and making him look up at you. “I’d love it if you came back later.” You smiled and closed your eyes slowly to kiss him one last time.

“Really?” He asked once he leaned back from the kiss and fluttered his gleeful eyes open.

You nodded softly, and he smiled. “Okay,” he hopped out of bed and grabbed a shirt from his drawer, and handed it to you. “I’ll sneak you some water in a few” He tucked the covers up over you as you yawned, feeling sleep settling its way into your system.

He slowly backed away from the bed and blew you one last kiss before shutting the door and muttering a small goodnight to you.

“Goodnight, heeseung.” You laid your head flat on the bed, a small smile etched on your features.

Tomorrow could only tell what’s in store for you and heeseung, but right now, you were just happy your friend invited you to a hang out with her hot best friend.

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen fanfic

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pseudowho · 6 months ago

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okay here’s me getting all cocky and confident because you answered my ask once (ily for that seriously i think i screamed and fainted and sobbed and climbed up the walls a little) and once again asking you for….. for crumbs………. so my horny self was sitting and thinking…………… nanami sees you reading absolute filth and porn and you end up in biig trouble.. (i.e him doing that exact thing to you 😭) or perhaps you going up to nanami after reading absolute filth and being all needy with him bcs that straight porn made you a liittle…….. yk… 🌚🌚🌚

anyways i literally love you and ur my favorite writer ever and im gonna stop now before i burst

SMUT [smuht] (noun)

In which Nanami Kento catches you reading dirty literature...and punishes you with a performative reading.

Warnings: The anon who keeps targeting me like this needs a warning label...but otherwise: roleplay, erotic literature (*laughs and laughs in Tumblr*) being read to you while you're systematically destroyed, performative Bad!Nanami, Kento fucks you wearing a mask and leather gloves, Pleasure Dom!Kento who gets lost in the sauce, reader way out of her depth, bondage, the usual spicy goodness, couple of cheeky movie references

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The one she knew only as the Man in the Mask swept over to her, delighting in her capture, having evaded him for so long.

"Ahhh..." he sighed, his breath sweeping over the swell of her breasts, and sending shivers down her spine. "Finally...the little mouse who has wreaked havoc on my dreams for too many lonely nights. How does it feel? To be trapped here with me like this?"

Her heart stalled in her chest, and she gasped, his grazing touch to her belly leaving embers in its wake. The Man in the Mask saw her nipples pebble beneath her shirt, and felt something snap inside him as he loomed over her with a whisper; "I know. I feel it too."

With little warning, he lowered his barely covered mouth to her neck, hungry against her, and--

The door opened, and you leapt out of your skin, dropping your phone to the floor. You sat bolt upright in bed, your other hand coming up guiltily from beneath the covers as Kento leaned into the bedroom to greet you. You interrupted him.

"You're home early," you said, offering an unconvincing smile. Kento looked at you, flatly. He let the statement hang for a moment. His shrewd eyes flicked, taking in the glossy subtleties he saw from you only in foreplay.

"...well I thought you'd be pleased, but I'll just go back then shall I--"

You hesitated, words caught in your throat. Your eyes flickered to your phone. So did Kento's. His eyes narrowed.

"...what are you read--"

"Nothing! It's nothing." You lied, unconvincing. You both hesitated for a moment more, before Kento darted. You cursed at him for being faster than you, and Kento's fingers closed around your phone, sitting beside you on the bed in one swift movement. You smothered a pillow over your face, screaming silently, wanting the duvet to grow great maws and swallow you whole.

Kento read silently for a moment, scrolling, before reading aloud; "...she didn't want to fight anymore, as his fingers slid between her puffy lips...goodness me...his cock strained against the fabric of his clothes, begging for attention...I bet it did..."

You had begun to crawl away down the bed, just a maggot, unworthy of the sun and all its glories.

You felt a hand clasp around your ankle, and you squeaked as Kento dragged you back up the bed, without even taking his eyes off your phone.

"I don't think so, where are you going--"

"--oh god Kento just give me something for the cringe and let me die--"

"--no no no I'm blessed to be a part of my wife's interests--"

"--I am less than human, we need a divorce, I can't look you in the eye ever again--"

Kento scoffed, dark and derisive. "As if I'd let you divorce me. As if you'd even want to...now, where did I put that..."

Kento stood, still holding your phone as he rummaged in his dresser. You laid flat to the bed, trying to wiggle away again, still embarrassingly wet, your mortification laced with undeniable arousal.

"Stay exactly where you are, or I'll damn well make you."

You stopped. You looked up at Kento, unusually meek, as he approached you. He stood by the bed, looming and powerful, a god made flesh. He unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, not bothering to remove his harness. He undid his belt with a clink-clink. He let his tie hang loose...and pulled a black balaclava down to beneath his collar. He finished off with a pair of soft, black leather gloves.

Something imploded inside you; a dial-up noise in your mind. Kento prowled over to you, looming over you and chasing you up the bed, caging you beneath him, and reading through the smut on your phone screen.

"Be honest," Kento read aloud, his honey-brown eyes swirling with something altogether darker and more dangerous, "if you'd wanted to escape me...you could have."

You panted, breathless, your pupils blown into inky black as you lay splayed beneath Kento. You couldn't help but be captivated, lost in his insidious pull. You felt your heartbeat between your legs.

"Did you stay because you dream of me, too?" Kento intoned. You bit the poisoned apple, trembling as you nodded up at him. "Did you stay...because you wondered if hatred was as erotic a passion as love?"

"--Kento, I-- let me go, I--"

"That's the spirit." Laughed Kento, his voice booming through you, the vibrations crackling across every nerve, and you whimpered. Kento grasped your hands together with his own, gloved and powerful, pinning them above your head with the whole weight of his body. He pulled his tie loose with the hand holding your phone.

"I can't let you leave...not now. Fuck...you have no idea what you do to me, do you?" Kento growled. Being the villain seemed so effortless to him. Your safe word had never been further from your mind, your attempts to leave so paltry and insincere. The way Kento looked down at you, waiting to see if you would make him stop, sent shivers down your spine. Kento released his tie, eyes skimming across your phone for confirmation.

"I'd apologise, for trapping you here like this..." Kento intoned, tying your bound wrists to the head of the bed as you squirmed, crying out in anguish, "...but I'll show you...how you've craved my touch, just as I have craved yours." You strained against the bonds, in just the silky chemise you wore for bed, and it didn't take much for your breasts to fall free of the fine little straps.

In truth, Kento had never been harder in his life. Seeing you battle against primal desire beneath him, feeling your half-hearted embarrassed squirms brushing your bare mound against his aching, thick cock...and your nipples, hard as diamonds and covered by a thin veneer of lace. His breaths were heavy, chest heaving as he continued his performative reading.

"Just one taste, and we can return to how it was before." Kento groaned, his mouth suckling at your neck, licking, tasting, biting. You cringed against the assault on your senses, afraid to lose yourself to such diabolical pleasure. Kento pinned your bucking hips down with his own, the tip of his cock trapped beneath his waistband against his belly. "Just once...and we can rest easy at night, knowing how it feels for me to spend myself inside you."

You keened, mewling as Kento rested the phone on the pillow beside your head, and took your nipple into his mouth, ragging it around beneath his tongue with a fractured growl. Your head spun with the weight of him, totally captured, so wildly out of control. The suckling pleasure he gave to your nipples, connected in a fine thread to your clit, making it pulse with vicarious bliss.

"I can't...can't take it anymore...Ken--" You moaned, squeaking as his teeth closed in barely hinged warning around your breast.

"Unless it's to tell me to fuck you, I won't have you mewl like a kitten at me any longer." Kento rumbled against your breast, wet with his spit and the marks he left behind as he took what he was owed. "I hope you can take it. I'm...no small man. If you are ruined, after, I know you will bear the scars with grace, just as you have bore your hatred of me."

You were already so steeped in the hot rush of being pleasured, you did not notice how Kento's eyes glowered, lathering down your body and darting occasionally back to your phone. He continued his pilgrimage down your body. Kento growled in frustration at the chemise blocking him, and he rucked it up, spitting curses as you squeaked, wriggling against him.

"At least fight like you mean it." Kento laughed, and you blushed, eyes squeezed shut, mortified by how obviously faked your resistance was. Kento kissed his way down your belly, settling at your mound. He hovered, silent, giving your desperate clit nought but the breath from his lips.

"Do you want my fingers...or my mouth?" You whimpered again, babbling nonsense, such a rough and ruined heroine. Kento laughed again, dark and delicious, raising his mask just enough to free his mouth. "No words? No matter. You shall have both."

With little warning, Kento sunk his tongue between your folds, ragging his mouth and nose from side to side again to bury himself in the heat of you. You cried out as he growled into your heat, hitting a high note as he sunk two thick, gloved fingers into your fluttering pussy, slamming inside all the way to his knuckles.

Kento swore against your pussy, grunting and moaning as he lapped at your clit and entrance with animalistic rage. Quite canonically to his role, his cock wept against his belly, pre-cum leaking down onto his waistband until the fabric was cloying and sticky, the friction against his tip sending him spiralling. He couldn't help but fuck against the bed as you melted beneath him, writhing against his tongue.

Panting, letting his gloved fingers fuck into you and imagining it was his cock instead, Kento chuckled against your clit, at just how easily he had snapped. He pulled his fingers out of you for a moment, wickedly obsessed by the stark contrast of your creamy white arousal on the black leather.

He could smell you on the balaclava, the fabric over his nose soaking with your essence. Kento felt lightheaded with the blooming, heady scent of you. His cock twitched, aching and neglected, and so close to spilling thick spurts of seed all over its owner.

You risked looking down for just a moment. The eyes of a villain pierced through you, as Kento licked his gloves clean, not breaking eye contact once. You whimpered. He laughed, and curled his fingers back into you, continuing his relentless attack on your poor, aching cunt. Your moans reached a fever pitch, and Kento felt the creep of his own orgasm through his belly as he rutted against the bed with total abandon.

"Sing for me." He groaned, lifting your hips off the bed as he knelt, sucking your clit into his mouth in a devastating final move. You tipped violently over the edge, bucking against his tongue and crying his name, a stream of nonsensical babbles. Kento was quite sure you came harder than the girl in the story.

By the time you came back to earth, being licked in slow, languid movements through your peak, you saw Kento kneeling between your legs, stroking his cock in long, jerking pumps.

"You've reduced me to this." Kento forced, his teeth gritted and his mask back in place over his mouth. "To this...this boy, fucking his own fist just from the taste of you." Kento cursed, his gloved fist wet with pre-cum, cracking his neck from side to side and growling through his lurid tale. You lay, fucked out, bound, a fascinated by how Kento's whiskey-rich voice could fill you with fumes, warm and drunk one minute, but cold and piercing the next. You swung, manoeuvred across his harsh dichotomy.

Kento loomed over you, trapping you beneath him again, blocking the light from your eyes, a bad moon rising. "You did this to me." He hissed, accusatory in his possession of you. "You started this sordid fight. But I'll finish it. No more fisting my cock at night just to the thought of you. No more dreaming about bending you to my will."

You felt Kento's tip press through your entrance, thick and insistent enough that you squirmed up the bed, crying out as he yanked you back, his hands closing around your waist. Kento plaited his fingers in your tied hands, the ghost of affection, and readying himself to slam into your quivering heat. He was falling apart, he could barely contain himself, overcome by the raw power of making you pliable, shaping you to his desires--

Kento whispered in your ear, his voice shaking, gravelly; "And when you submit...know that it was entirely your fault."

You felt your delicate petals forced aside, crying out to be filled to the brim by Kento in one slick thrust. Kento could barely suppress a roar beneath his mask, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His enormous hands cuffed your waist, making it squidge down against your hips every time he dragged your hips, moving your pussy around him like a cock sleeve.

Kento's strength made manhandling you look easy. You lay ruined beneath him, your head lolling against the inside of your own bound arm. The image of him unbuttoned, masked, gloved and still almost fully dressed above you, grunting and groaning as he used your pussy for his own pleasure, burned onto your retinas.

Kento barely moved his own hips, his eyes fixed feverishly on where he dragged your swollen pussy around the length of his cock, twitching and burning inside you. He couldn't contain himself. The hook behind his navel, all scorched steel and selfishness, beseeched him to drag his pleasure from you.

"Fucking-- ruin you-- never be satisfied...by another man again-- keep running from me, and I'll hunt you down...and take you like this every-- fucking-- time--"

As Kento's pleasure roared over him, he punctuated his thrusts against your belly with the written word in action. Making nothing more than jolted, pitiful moans as he fucked repeatedly against your sensitive cervix and soft-spot, you clambered for purchase, sobbing your pleasure as his gloved fingers rolled your clit between them.

Kento came with a string of curses, his thighs cramping beneath him with the force of it. Feeling his seed begin to pump and spurt into you, he dragged you aggressively to another orgasm with his leathered fingers. He had to feel you clench around him, sucking his seed deep inside you. He had just enough forethought to recall his final, toxic line as he gasped, groaning and bucking with the force of his ejaculation.

You could barely hear him through the fog of pleasure, faint in the distance; "If you have the nerve...to crawl back to me...full and swollen-- know we can be enemies in matrimony, as well as battle."

The room was hushed and dark, the gloom broken only by your mingled, heavy breaths, and the earthy smell of sex. You reached up pulling Kento's balaclava up and pressing a breathless little kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"...but...we still have to get a divorce. I just-- couldn't live with you knowing what I read--"

Kento laughed, his shoulders aching from the weight of the villain, slipping away with his gloves and mask.

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todayisafridaynight · 2 months ago

Note

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon

#snap chats #no smarmy one-sentence response i fear i never play about my dad's character and its been. A Month so i gotta be earnest #Comically And Topically tho i still wonder wtf my dad meant when he said 'i always thought of being a girl' when i opened up to him #part of me thinks he was just joking and thats probably it but also ....... //audible confusion + vine boom + eyebrow quirking//#its so funny you brought up my dad though i was thinking of visiting him this weekend #last week my Bitch Ass Mom wanted to watch a movie with me and since speak no evil was coming out i proposed we see that #since starting therapy shes been 'trying' to be closer with us but she still doesnt like me on a fundamental level so get bent ig #but she hates horror movies and made a whole show of not wanting to go and how american movies are so brutal and blah blah #this was right after she took me ice skating with her .. cause shes obsessed with ice skating now ... like maam please #i like skating so thank you but ... idk ... she never wants to do things i wanna do #then again we're pretty different i think so. LOL sorry i like horror movies and nothing you like apparently #im glad she didnt come cause i just went with my bro and since the theater was Virtually Empty we just cracked jokes the whole time vjlaekv #plus i just know my mom wouldve been annoying and i wanted to enjoy the movie !!!! which i did ty !!!!!!!#but yk who LOVES horror movies and who i used to watch horror movies with all the time growin up !!!!!!!!!!#i havent seen a movie with my dad in forever.... the last one we saw was so long ago but it was some weird owen wilson movie i think #wait now that ive dragged my mom into this she started therapy Did I Share That. Im Reminding You Anyway #but the most vile thing i ever heard her say was that she admitted to me she never loved my dad 'emotionally'#like wow ..... a thousand life times in hell for you i think i cant even begin to describe the rage chat i could write a novel #but i only have 30 tags so i wont. i should call my dad tho.. this is inspiring me to call my dad thank you anon #if youre still reading Double Thank You. i havent complained about my mom in a while and this was just funny timing overall vjRLKJAEVK #ok im gonna go talk with my dad now. my college friend's coming oevr in like three hours and we're gonna watch glass #cause that came up in convo yesterday Long Story so that should be funny vjlekjlakj

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why4anne · 18 days ago

Text

Juno

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Pop star Y/N L/N cannot behave herself on social media. But who can blame her when her boyfriend looks like that?

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter

Masterlist

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, taylorswift and others

yourusername: Just a little something I wrote recently🤭

Juno out tonight 8pm EST

view comments:

user1: Girlie is finally releasing music again?? Album when???

user2: Pop is back!

user3: you'll find me SCREAMING

user4: Juno?? Like the goddess of love and marriage..?

- user5: Wait! You're onto something!!!!

- user6: y'all what if she means the movie

- user7: what movie?

- user6: Dang, you're making me feel old

taylorswift: They're not ready for it

- user8: TAYLOR????? HELLOOOO??

- user9: REP TV REFERENCE!!!

- user10: easter egg??!!!

- user 11: girl that's a whole easter basket

joeyb_9: nice dress

- user12: excuse me? sir?

- user13: I just know they're up to something

lahjay10_: Joe has not stopped smiling all morning practice

- user14: It's about him then???

- user15: He's giggling and kicking his feet I just know it

user16: Joe can you fight??

- joeyb_9: yes I can

- user16: oop- I was not expecting that

- user17: he gagged you fr

user18: I don't know if I wanna be her, or be with her

- user19: the struggle is real

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, zendaya and others

yourusername: oops... wrong pic🤭 Juno out now btw

view comments:

user1: you're this thirsty on main????!!!!

user2: girl calm down

user3: NOW THATS WHAT I CALL AN OVULATION SONG

user4: I'm actually speechless after listening to this...

- user5: No becuase WHAT DO YOU MEAN MARK YOUR TERRITORY???!!

user5: hold me and explore me??? GIRL!

user6: SOMEONE NEEDS TO CONTROL MY GIRL Y/N

- user7: we need to spay her frfr

user8: tf you mean freaky positions???

user9: I mean, have you seen her man??? I don't blame her

- user10: The only pop-girlie with a hot boyfriend I fear

- user11: Louis Partridge exists yk

user12: I was gonna say you swan🦢 he frog🐸 but I fear can't

user13: how are you able to look your parents in the eyes after this girl???

user14: She and Joe be freaky like that ig

joeyb_9: I feel honored

- user15: YOU GUYS ARE INSANE!!

- user16: did not expect this when I woke up this morning

- user17: Joe, are you well???

user18: I always knew they were freaky

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, milliebobbybrown and others

yourusername: One of me is cute, but two though?

Surprise! Double whammy you guys 34+35 out now!

view comments:

user1: SHE'S INSANE!

user2: nah what do you mean 34+35??? you freakyyyyy!!!

user3: tf you mean "got the neighbors yelling earthquake"????

user4: What kind of freak-juice do they put in the water in Cincinnati?

user5: Let me breath, damn. I haven't even recovered from Juno yet

joeyb_9: I can make sure that there is two of you by this time next year

- yourusername: I just might let you🤭

- lahjay10_: BRING BACK SHAME!!!!

- jjettas2: NORMALIZE BULLYING!!!

- user6: Ja'marr?? Justin?? hello???

- user7: I stand with Justin and Ja'marr because writing this on main is CRAZY

- user8: WE NEED TO PUT BOTH JOE AND Y/N IN HORNY JAIL!

user9: That's enough screen time for you missy

user10: THESE LYRICS ARE CRAZYYYY

- user11: They're not even trying to be subtle

user12: Didn't Joe say in one interview that he goes to bed by like 8pm. Tf you mean "we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise"??

- user13: One of them is lying and I think it's the blonde one

- user14: both of them are blonde

- user13: @/youmissedthejoke

user15: yall are acting like this is sum crazy shit but if I had a boyfriend who looked like that I would be acting WAYYYY worse

- user16: FR! Like if I looked like Y/N and my bf looked like Joe, you would not be catching us leaving the house

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, alix_earle and others

yourusername: Have you ever tried this one?

view comments:

user1: Ma'am there are kids on this app

joeyb_9: yeah we did it last night, remember?

- yourusername: no, can you remind me😇

- lahjay10_: EW EW EW EW EW

- lahjay10_: THAT'S ENOUGH!

- lahjay10_: I NEED BLEACH FOR MY EYES

- lahjay10_: I'M TELLING MANAGEMENT!!

- lahjay10_: THIS IS AN HR ISSUE

- user2: is Ja'marr okay?

- user3: He's crashing out

- user4: bro is tweaking

user5: we can try it out if you want to🤭

- joeyb_9: She's busy

- user6: we need lock him up or something

- yourusername: would handcuffs suffice?

- user7: EXCUSE ME!!???

- user8: Girl this is a public comment section!

- user9: Saying that on Beyonce's internet is CRAZY

user10: looked at myself and sighed

user11: girl, who is in charge of your social media??

user12: we need to lobotomize her or something

lahjay10_:

liked by teehiggins, andreiiosivas and others

lahjay10_: The trenches look a little different when you in the inside of the Spectre.

view comments:

user1: #unblocky/n

user2: #unblocky/n

user3: #unblocky/n

user4: #unblocky/n

joeyb_9: #unblocky/n

- user5: help- not Joe joining us

- user6: y/n is this you?

- joeyb_9: Nope, this is actually Joe

- user7: I can't with this man😭

lahjay10_: aight what the hell is going on?

- user8: #unblocky/n

- user9: #unblocky/n

yourusername: I'VE BEEN UNBLOCKED!!🥳

- user10: welcome back queen

- lahjay10_: hope you happy now

- yourusername: the happiest😁

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, andreiiosivas and others

yourusername: AAAAAAAHHHH! JOE BURROW PLEASE PUSH ME UP A WALL AND THROW ME ACROSS THE ROOM! I wanna climb this man like a tree. I wanna gnaw on his biceps like a beaver and I wanna scratch his back like a goddamn feral cat!

view comments:

user1: is she okay?

user2: I can just tell that she's ovulating

user3: well you can actually do that if you want to #wearenotthesame

user4: on main is CRAZY

user5: I didn't realize this was Y/N's account, deadass thought it was a horny fan-account💀

joeyb_9: That can be arranged

- user6: He's so nonchalant with it😭

- user7: I know I should be used to this by now but at the same time his comments never fails to flabbergast me

- user8: Remember when we used to have shame?

- jjettas2: pause.

user9: Yall are calling her crazy but she's so real for this

user10: I can't with this girl💀

andreiiosivas: are you okay?

- user11: Help not Andrei lowkey being concerned😭

- user12: She just ovulating, don't worry

[This post has been deleted]

yourusername:

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_ and others

yourusername: Juno is now number one on the Billboard hot 100! Thank you so much to everyone who streamed🩵

view comments:

user1: this caption does not sound like my girl Y/N

user2: where is crazy Y/N?

user3: did you get your social media hacked or sum?

user4: I think her team took her social media away😭

- user5: yeah cuz her last (extremely unhinged) post was deleted too

- user6: Noooooo! I lived for Y/N's posts

- user7: me too girl😔

user8: I'll miss you diva💜

user9: #wewanty/n

- user10: #wewanty/n

- user11: #wewanty/n

- user12: #wewanty/n

user13: congratulations, but please give my girl back her account

user14: The biggest sign that this isn't Y/N is that Joe didn't comment

- user15: fr! he always comments on her posts

- user16: he's silent protesting💀

lahjay10_: I can finally scroll on instagram without getting a jumpscare🙏 I used to pray for times like this!

- user17: Ja'Marr😭

- user18: Bro rejoicing💀

joeyb_9:

liked by lahjay10_, sam_hubbard_ and others

joeyb_9: Since someone got her social media privileges taken away, I had to be the one to post this photo of her because she said: "I look cute in this photo, the world deserves to witness it"

view comments:

user1: get yourself a man who posts you on his instagram when you can't!

user2: she was right, I had to witness this🙂‍↕️

user3: mother is mothering!!!

lahjay10_: you down bad bro

- joeyb_9: and?

- user4: THAT'S A MAN!

- user5: I swear my pants were JUST on

jjettas2: what happened to the social media break?

- joeyb_9: boyfriend duties called

- user6: When he breaks his social media break for you>>

user7: Thank you for blessing us like this🙏