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brunchable · 5 months ago

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Don't Look at Me Like That [18+]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader. Summary: You get stuck in an awkward position in a very tight space and Bucky's dick decides it's a good time to get hard. Themes/Warning: Comedy Smut, forced proximity. Oral sex - Male Receiving. Guided Deep throating. A/N: Hah......to have your throat ruined by bucky ;_;

@classicrebound can you guess what inspired this? LOL

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky groaned as the door of the janitor’s closet clicked shut, trapping the two of you inside.

The Avengers’ compound was massive—thousands of square feet of pristine, state-of-the-art design, but you and Bucky had somehow found yourselves stuck in the one claustrophobic, cramped janitor’s closet with a broken door handle.

“Move your stupid foot,” you muttered, glaring up at him.

“I can’t move anywhere, doll. There’s no room,” he snapped back, looking like he was trying very hard not to elbow you in the face as he shifted.

He wasn’t lying. There was barely enough space for one person, let alone two. Your shoulders were pressed against shelves full of cleaning supplies, and your knees were almost touching the floor, awkwardly bent as you knelt in front of Bucky.

“Why didn’t you wait until I finished grabbing the damn broom?” he complained, glowering down at you.

“Because I needed it!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “You were taking forever, and— Look, I’m sorry, okay? Just… help me up.”

Bucky tried shifting again, but with the tight space and the way your body was jammed into the corner, it was impossible. “You’re wedged in there like a sardine. I’m gonna have to—”

“Just move!” you snapped, tugging at his belt for leverage.

The sudden force made him stumble forward. You yelped as his hips knocked into you, and you lost your balance, falling forward—right into the worst possible position imaginable.

“Whoa—! What the hell?” Bucky’s voice came out in a strangled yelp as you braced yourself on his thighs, your face now directly level with his crotch. You looked up at him, scowling.

“I swear, Barnes, if you don’t—”

But the words died on your lips when you met his gaze. His chest heaved with the effort of keeping his balance, and his hands hovered uncertainty in the air as if he didn’t know what to do with them. The tension in his face slowly turned into something else as he looked down at you.

You blinked up at him, your annoyance fading as his expression shifted. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the air change between you—growing thicker, heavier.

“Bucky…?” you asked, voice softening as you looked up at him, noticing his breathing had gone ragged.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat working visibly.

“Doll,” he managed to croak out, his voice strained.

“What?” You frowned, looking at him in confusion.

“I—” He glanced down at you, his gaze darting to your lips before flicking back to your eyes. His nostrils flared, and he shifted awkwardly. “You… gotta stop looking at me like that.”

You furrowed your brow. “Like what?”

“Like—” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before looking down at you again, his cheeks flushed. “Like you’re about to… you know.”

Your eyes widened, and it took a second for his words to register.

“Wait… What?! I’m not—!” You pulled back slightly, trying to put distance between you, but it only made things worse.

Because that’s when you noticed it. The growing, unmistakable bulge in his jeans, right in front of your face.

“Oh my God, Bucky,” you gasped, your voice a mix of shock and disbelief. “Are you— Are you getting hard right now?!”

His face flushed crimson. “I— No! I mean— I don’t know! You’re the one kneeling in front of me like— like—”

“Like what, Barnes?” you demanded, eyes narrowing. “Like I’m about to— Oh my God!”

You threw your hands up in frustration, accidentally brushing against his thighs in the process. His breath hitched, and you pulled your hands back like you’d been burned.

“Stop it!”

“I’m trying!” he hissed back, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “You’re making it worse, dammit!”

“What do you mean I’m making it worse?” you snapped, staring up at him in disbelief. “You’re the one getting turned on in a janitor’s closet!”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” he growled, his hands flexing at his sides. “You keep looking up at me like that, and I— I don’t know, okay? It just— happens!”

“Stop saying it happens!” you squeaked, your face heating up as you looked at the bulge right in front of you. “Just— make it go away!”

“I can’t!” Bucky barked, his eyes wild with frustration. “I’m not a damn magician!”

“Then just think of something!” you snapped, voice rising. “Think of— of— I don’t know, dead puppies or—”

“That’s not helping!” he yelled, his voice cracking in a way that would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the very real problem growing in front of you.

“Then stop thinking about me!” you shouted back, your voice a panicked whisper.

“You think I’m doing this on purpose?” His eyes narrowed, his gaze dark and dangerous. “I can’t stop it, okay? It’s a reflex!”

“Reflex?!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “What kind of reflex?”

“The kind that happens when someone’s looking up at you like they’re about to—” He cut himself off with a groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “God, this is the worst.”

“I’m not looking at you like that!” you protested, shaking your head furiously. “I’m looking at you like you’re a goddamn idiot!”

“Well, your face is saying something else!” he shot back.

“What’s it saying?” you demanded.

“Like you’re about to— I don’t know—” He faltered, his eyes darting down to your lips and then back up. “Like you want to—”

“Oh my God, stop it!” You covered your face with your hands, utterly mortified. “Just— Stop getting turned on, okay?!”

“I’m not trying to!” he groaned, dropping his head back against the wall. “Christ, do you think I want to be stuck in a closet with a hard-on right now?”

“Then do something about it!” you yelled, glaring up at him.

“I can’t just tell it to go away!” he yelled back.

“Then tell yourself to go away!” you shouted.

“Where the hell am I gonna go, Y/N?!” he yelled back, throwing his hands up. “We’re stuck in a goddamn closet!”

The two of you fell silent, glaring at each other. Bucky was breathing hard, his chest heaving with every breath, and you were trying very hard not to look at the problem that was still very much in your line of sight.

“This is insane,” you finally muttered, shaking your head. “Just— take deep breaths or something. Think. . .Think of Steve in a Speedo!”

Bucky made a face. “Why would I think of Steve in a Speedo?”

“Because it’ll kill the mood!” you shot back. “Just do it!”

Bucky sighed heavily but nodded. He closed his eyes, muttering to himself as he took slow, deep breaths. “Steve… in a Speedo… Steve… in a Speedo…”

You waited, watching his face closely. After a few long moments, his shoulders relaxed slightly, and his breathing steadied. He opened one eye and glanced down at you.

“Better?” you asked cautiously.

“Yeah.” He let out a long, relieved breath. “Better.”

“Good.” You nodded. “Great. So, can we get out of here now?”

“I’ll try the door again,” he muttered, reaching for the handle. But when he moved, he shifted just slightly forward—and the bulge that was supposed to be gone brushed against your shoulder.

You froze.

Bucky’s eyes flew open.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you shrieked. “Bucky, stop it!”

“I can’t!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the tiny closet.

“Why can’t you just—”

“I don’t know! You’re the one who’s all— all down there, and—”

“Stop saying I’m down here like I’m doing something else!” you screamed back, face burning. “Just— I don’t know— stop thinking about my face!”

“I’m trying!” he yelled back. “But you keep looking up at me like—”

“Like what?!” you demanded. “Like I want to blow you or something?!”

“Yes!” he shouted, then slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in horror.

The closet fell silent.

You stared up at him, mouth hanging open in shock. “Bucky… did you just—”

“I didn’t mean—!” he spluttered, turning even redder. “I mean— I just— Oh God—”

“Oh my God, this is— This is the worst,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands again. “This is literally the worst.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, sounding utterly miserable. “It really is.”

The two of you sat there in stunned silence, the reality of the situation sinking in. Bucky was still very much hard, you were still very much kneeling, and neither of you could move an inch.

“…So, how long do you think it’s gonna take for this to… y’know… go away?” you asked hesitantly, still crouched awkwardly on your knees. You shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, but every slight movement made your face closer to the obvious problem in Bucky’s jeans.

“I don’t know, okay?” Bucky muttered, his voice dripping with frustration. “Just… don’t look at it.”

“Look at what?” you asked innocently.

“My… my—DICK.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second as if to gather his composure. “Just… stop looking at my dick!”

You blinked up at him, eyes wide with feigned confusion. “I’m not looking at anything.”

“Yes, you are!” Bucky hissed, gesturing at his crotch. “You’re staring right at it, doll. I can feel your eyes on me.”

You glanced at the bulge again and then back up to his flushed face.

“Oh, this?” you asked, pointing at it like it was a random spot on his jeans. “Sorry. Didn’t realise I was staring.”

“Y/N…” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

“What?” You shrugged, doing your best to keep a straight face. “It’s kind of hard to not notice, y’know?”

“Just—” Bucky exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose with his metal fingers. “Just stop. Stop looking at the dick. Stop talking about it. Just… stop it.”

“Fine, fine.” You nodded and turned your head away, doing your best to ignore his predicament. But after a few seconds of awkward silence, your eyes involuntarily drifted back.

And there it was—still very much… present.

“Y/N!” Bucky growled, his voice strained. “Stop looking at it!”

“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up in a helpless gesture. “It’s just— it’s right there, and it’s not going away!”

“Well, you’re not helping by staring!” he snapped, his voice a mix of irritation and something else—something that sounded suspiciously like desperation.

“Okay, well, maybe…” You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered your options. This was already the most awkward situation you’d ever been in, but if it wasn’t going away…

“Maybe what?” Bucky demanded, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously. “Don’t even—”

“Maybe I should just…” You waved your hand in a vague motion, indicating the space in front of you. “Y’know… help or something?”

Bucky’s entire body went rigid.

“Help?” he repeated slowly, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, feeling a wicked smile tug at the corners of your lips. “Yeah… I mean, it’s not going away, right? So maybe if I just—”

“And what?!” Bucky interrupted, looking both horrified and intrigued. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“And maybe if I…” You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek suggestively, your eyes dropping down to the bulge again. You heard Bucky’s breath hitch, and you had to suppress a grin as his gaze darkened.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “Don’t you dare.”

You tilted your head, looking up at him through your lashes. “What? I’m just trying to help. You said you couldn’t get rid of it, so…”

“So what?!” Bucky’s voice was almost hysterical now, and he shifted on his feet still not knowing what to do with his hands. “You think— You think you can just—”

“I mean…” You leaned in slightly, your cheek brushing against his thigh as you moved closer, your lips dangerously close to the outline of his jeans. “If it’ll get us out of here faster…”

“Y/N, don’t.” Bucky’s voice was strained, his hands coming up to hover uncertainty in the air as if he wanted to push you away but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. “I’m serious. This isn’t—”

“Isn’t what?” You raised an eyebrow, pressing your tongue against your cheek again in that infuriatingly suggestive way. “What do you want me to do, Bucky?”

“Not that!” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. “Just— Jesus, Y/N—”

“What?” You tilted your head, batting your lashes up at him. “It’s not going away on its own. And you said it’s my fault, right?”

Bucky groaned, his head dropping back against the wall with a soft thunk. “You’re gonna drive me insane, you know that?”

You bit back a laugh.

“So, should I…?” You trailed off, your eyes flicking pointedly to his crotch again.

“No,” he growled, his jaw clenching.

“Just trying to be helpful,” you murmured, smirking up at him.

“Helpful, my ass,” he muttered, but his gaze dropped to your lips, and his expression softened for just a split second.

You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You sure you don’t want my help, Sergeant?”

His breath hitched again, and for a second, you thought he might actually say yes. But then he shook his head violently, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No,” he muttered, his voice rough. “No, I— We’re not doing this. Not here.”

You sighed dramatically, sitting back on your heels. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

Bucky let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you.”

“But you know…” You leaned in again, your breath ghosting over the front of his jeans as you looked up at him with a wicked grin. “If you change your mind—”

“Y/N!” he groaned, his voice breaking. “I swear to God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” You grinned, thoroughly enjoying his torment. “Push me away?”

“I—” He faltered, his gaze darting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “I—”

“Didn’t think so,” you murmured, pressing your tongue against your cheek one last time. He let out a tortured groan, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You’re evil,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and rough.

“And you’re still hard,” you teased, eyes drifting down to the very obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” he shot back, his voice strained, his gaze boring down at you.

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Guess you’ll just have to suffer, then.”

Bucky let out a long, tortured breath, his head falling back against the wall. His shoulders heaved as he struggled to keep himself under control. It was endearing, really—seeing the big, bad Winter Soldier at a loss for words, his composure unravelling inch by inch.

“I— I mean it, Y/N.” His voice was a mix of a plea and a warning now, and you felt a rush of satisfaction ripple through you. “Don’t… don’t mess with me like this.”

“Mess with you?” you murmured softly, leaning closer, the space between you narrowing. “Who said I was messing with you?”

He stilled, his jaw clenching as you brushed your cheek against the front of his jeans. You heard him suck in a breath, and when you tilted your head up to look at him, you saw the raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes.

“Doll…” He swallowed hard, his voice coming out rough and gravelly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, lips curving into a slow, wicked smile. “Like I’m about to do this?”

Before he could fake his protest, you reached up, your fingers lightly tracing the outline of his length firmly through his jeans. Bucky let out a low groan, his hips jerking at the contact.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head falling back against the wall.

You hummed softly, applying more grip to the fabric. He was so thick and hard beneath the denim, and the heat of him seared through the fabric. You ran your thumb along his length, pressing against the tip slightly, and Bucky let out a ragged moan, his hips twitching again.

“Want more, Sergeant?” you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes. “Want me to touch you properly?”

“Jesus—Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his voice breathless, “Just do it.”

With your deft fingers you unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans, pulling down freeing him from the constraint of his clothing. He sprang free, thick and hard, the tip flushed and glistening. You wrapped your hand around him, though your hand couldn’t fully envelope him.

“God, you’re big,” you murmured softly, giving a slow stroke from base to tip. Bucky shuddered, a low, needy moan escaping his lips.

“Doll, I—” His voice was rough and breathless, his hands hovering at his sides, watching you. “Just like that. Nice and slow. I want to feel every inch of your hand.”

“Yeah? Does it feel good?” you murmured, gripping him with your other hand. You ran your thumb over the sensitive head, smearing the precum that had gathered there, and Bucky let out a ragged groan, his hips bucking involuntarily.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, his hand sliding down to your chin, tilting your head up further. “Look up at me, doll. Want to see those eyes on me while you make me feel so fucking good.”

You stared up at him, your gaze locking onto his as your hands continued to pump his hardened length, your hand slick with precum as you moved faster, firmer. Bucky let out a choked moan, his hips thrusting into your grip as he lost himself in the sensation.

“Like that, Sergeant?” you asked softly, twisting your wrist at the end of each stroke. “You can’t even fit in my hands.”

“God, yes—” he muttered, “Your hand feels so fucking good. But you know what I really want?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “What’s that, Sergeant?”

“I wanna feel that mouth on me,” He murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip before gently pressing it into your mouth, your eyes locked with his as you slowly wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking it seductively, “I want to come into your mouth and you swallow every drop of me.”

“Mhm, yes please.” You moaned softly, your breath hitching as his words sent a rush of heat straight to your core, making you undeniably wet under your skirt.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “You like that, huh? Like the idea of me using that pretty mouth? You gonna let me fuck that throat until it hurts, doll?”

“Hmm…” You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of him before pulling back, your gaze never leaving his. “Yes can you fuck my mouth good, Sergeant?”

“Holy shit—”

You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his tip as you gave him a slow, teasing lick. Bucky’s hips jerked involuntarily again, as he was not expecting this, accidentally forcing his cock further into your mouth. You just smiled around him and worked on the head of his cock, the tip of your tongue tracing the grooves of the head of his penis. You slurped your way to the tip and suckled on the head for a minute, keeping him in your mouth as you nursed on it. You worked your way down to his balls, and took one and then the other in your mouth, and started the whole thing again.

You weren't even sucking him and he felt like he was about to scream.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his voice strained. “Just like that…”

You took your time with him, lavishing attention on his tip with soft licks and teasing strokes of your tongue. Every time you flicked your tongue over that sensitive spot just beneath the head, Bucky let out a low, desperate sound, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. “More… need more…”

You wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking gently as your hand continued to stroke his length. Bucky let out a choked moan, his fingers twitching in the air as if he was fighting the urge to grab you.

“God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he muttered, his head falling back against the wall. “. . . you’re gonna make me lose it—”

You glanced up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you slowly took him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around him. Your jaw widened and you pressed forward, letting him slide along your tongue. When Bucky hits the top of your throat, you paused.

His fingers itched to take the back of your head and shove his way inside, but he let you do this. You knew what he wanted, and he needed to see how far you would go to give it to him. You widen your thighs, changing the angle, and relax your throat muscles enough for him to slip in.

“That’s it,” Bucky crooned. “I will let you breathe in a moment. Eyes on me, baby.”

Your wide, almost panicked gaze met his and he saw the fear and determination. It made his dick pulse, and he gave a short thrust of his hips to tunnel deeper. You worked together for a few seconds until he was fully inside, exactly where he wanted to stay.

“Relax,” Bucky instructed. “Don’t pull off.”

Tears gathered and spilled over your lashes, the most beautiful sight Bucky’s ever seen. His cock filled your mouth and throat, your lips pressed to his pelvic bone.

“Swallow, Y/N.”

Your throat muscles worked, squeezing him, and he gasped. “Oh fuck,” He moaned, pulling back so you could take in air.

After a few seconds, he lifted a brow in question, asking silently if you were ready, and you nodded once. This time Bucky didn’t wait, unable to keep from grasping your head and ramming his cock in your throat. When he was as deep as he could go, he held there, loving the way you looked on your knees, suffering to make him feel good.

Bucky could feel the orgasm building, his balls growing tight and heavy, the need to empty his seed in your mouth. You saw it in his face, swallowing twice, then again, trying to force his come from his body, and the idea of it was so hot that he began roughly fucking your mouth.

Every third or fourth stroke went in your throat, and he was like a man possessed. It was so much better than he imagines, your sweet tongue rubbing the underside while your lips pulled to give him suction. Like you couldn’t wait to drink him down.

You let him set the pace, your eyes locked onto him as his movements become more erratic and desperate. His cock was sliding in and out of your mouth like an oiled piston, and the suction noises you created were squelching into the room. You held yourself steady, hands holding onto Bucky’s ass, while his hips moved faster, his grip tightening as he chased his release. His mouth hang open while ragged gasps escape past his lips and his moans filled the tiny closet, raw and needy and desperate.

“I am going to shoot all over your mouth,” Bucky panted.

You moaned in your throat as if you liked the idea, and the sound vibrated along his shaft. The thin threads of his self-control snapped and his balls sizzled with the impending orgasm. Pulling out of your mouth, Bucky fisted his cock as he aimed his spurting cock into your waiting mouth, thick jets erupted in pulses, his come pooling at the back of your mouth, coating your lips and chin. You sat patiently, taking it, letting him paint you with his release, and Bucky snarled in satisfaction, wishing he could drown you more in his come. When he finished it dripped off your chin and onto the floor.

“Fuck,” Bucky said, slumping against the wall. “I wish I could keep you like this. Just like this, baby. At my feet, covered in my come.”

Swallowing, you grinned, you licked your lips, tasting the thick mess. “Yum.”

Wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you sit back on your heels. "Glad I could help, Sergeant," you murmured, your voice soft and teasing as you licked your lips, making sure to savour every last drop.

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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

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fixation

in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.

18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D

Spencer is reading.

He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway.

Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...

And... that's enough.

Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior.

“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg.

“Hi.”

For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm.”

His brow darts up.

“With what, baby?”

Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy.

Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly.

“Um…”

Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—

You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp.

It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out.

“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout.

“I was.”

Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”

“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin.

“Don’t make it about me.”

You allow a minute to pass in silence.

Fine.

“I liked it,” you say shyly.

Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”

Like he couldn’t tell.

“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”

His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you.

“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”

You make a face. “Shut up.”

“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”

“Is that the saying?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”

“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”

Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck.

“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”

His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”

It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”

“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”

“It was mean.”

“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’ll let me do it again?”

Spencer pulls you back into another kiss.

“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?”

When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly.

“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”

You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward.

“You’re so nice, Spence.”

“I thought I was mean.”

“Now you’re nice.”

“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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milawritess · 2 months ago

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Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow — Gojo Satoru

pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

synopsis: crushed by the pressure of his work, Satoru and the reader's relationship begins to spiral. You do everything you can to make him happy, but you fear it's not enough. Maybe it never was. After a miscalculation that could have resulted in innocent lives being lost, the situation takes a turn for the worse.

Word count: 17k+ (I'm sorry in advance)

genre: heavy angst with happy ending

warnings: heavy angst, swearing, reader is a motherly figure to Megumi but their relationship is a bit strained, mentions of depression and self-doubt, reader is a sorcerer, fighting, insecurity, arguments, and breakups (?), descriptions of gore, mentions of sexual intercourse (mdni), depictions of a complicated and untraditional relationship, reader gets hurt, hardly edited/proofread (oops), gojo is fed up and mean :(

a/n: this is the first and longest thing I've ever posted on here lol. I felt like there was a lack of sorcerer!reader, so I played around with that concept a little bit. other than potentially shitty writing (sorry for any typos or grammatical errors), I truly hope you enjoy <3

sequel & blurbs

“Get out.”

The hash sentiment lingers, hanging heavily in the air.

“Well, hello to you too.”

He hears your feet shuffle across the floor as you stumble to take your shoes and coat off. “I just came to check on you.”

“And I’m fine,” he responds without moving, one arm up, draping over his aching eyes. He lies on the living room couch, one lanky leg propped up at an angle.

“You’re clearly not fine,” you respond, seeming unphased. “Have you eaten anything?” You ask, waiting for a response that never comes. “Okay, I’ll make your favorite ramen.”

He feels the side of the couch dip, your hand settling on his chest. Your fingers were greedy like you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with the fabric or caressing his taut muscles. Your voice is gentler when you speak this time. “Do you want an ice pack? Some tea?”

You two have done this dance before. You come home to find him exhausted, overworked with a migraine that could tranquilize an elephant. And just like always, you carefully slip his shoes off and unbutton the sleek black jacket to his uniform. It’s hard for him to stay mad about anything when you’re this kind, this caring.

“Satoru, please say something.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Your voice was so gentle. So sweet, saccharine, and so fucking patient. A voice you only ever reserved for him and for his ears only. A gentle whisper carried in a gentle breeze. It was his favorite sound.

But not tonight.

So you try something else. Sweet kisses along the corner of his lips. You’re even bold enough to move his arm, the arm he was using to desperately block out any light or simulation. You kiss his eyelids, his forehead, and cheeks—feather-light. Your hand slides up his chest before reaching his face. You caress your thumb under his closed eyes, and your other hand finds his hair, gently massaging his temple. He has all of you. Every bit.

“Let me take care of you.” If it were any other night, your breath fanning his neck would have shattered him; goosebumps would have wrecked his body, he’d shiver, and everything in him would ease, and all of his stress would slip away into nothingness. He never had to be the strongest with you. You would render him down to nothing but a simple man with just a few words. “You don’t look too good, honey. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” For a woman so strong in your own right, a woman of unyielding dignity and poise and unwavering determination to succeed, this is his favorite side of you.

But not tonight.

When his hand clasps your wrist, he feels your whole body freeze against his. Maybe you were surprised. Maybe you predicted this and were preparing yourself but-

The tongue-lashing dies in his throat when he opens his eyes. Just a peak to your face makes him falter. You were pouting. Worried. “I’m fine.” it’s harsher than you deserve but kinder than the thoughts swirling through his head a second ago.

He’s agitated. Stuck in the same old system that continues to fuck him over—his students over.

And yet, you just looked too beautiful.

You pull away, finally taking the hint. Then, you stand, fully removing yourself from him and stepping away. Your body heat quickly disappears from where you once sat, and he quivers. The room was quiet once again.

The room remained quiet even as you placed a hot bowl of ramen on the table beside him, a glass of water, and two pills.

You slept alone that night.

You remember when you first met Megumi.

“Who the hell are you?”

You never would have expected that to be the the words from a child you had just met. You raised a brow. “Well, aren’t you a fucking, brat?”

You were different back then—colder, angrier. You were similar in that sense.

Oddly enough, maybe that’s what gravitated him to you.

You’re not sure when it happened, but gradually, the harsh edges of you began to… change. Not entirely softened, as thorns remained, but you bloomed, red petals and all. You grew softer, kinder, more patient—and finally—your heart had made space for others. The fear of loss remained, but you had never cared for someone so fragile. No one had ever cried for you, reached for you with small chubby fingers, or depended on you as he once had. You never had someone in your life that needed to be nurtured, protected, and guided.

He was just a boy.

Over time, you realized that if you remained unchanged, perhaps he would never grow into the man he needed to be. You’re not sure why he picked you, why he looked up to you of all people, but he did. He found comfort in you and followed you like a little duckling with a little waddle and permanent scowl.

There wasn't a rhyme or reason. He chose you, and you chose him.

Soon enough, you were waking him up for school, running your hands through his messy, dark locks. You were making him bento boxes, running to parent-teacher conferences, and having hard but meaningful conversations with him in his room about his troubling behavior.

Then you were hugging him as he cried, as he revealed the same dark thoughts you once had about yourself.

You wished this world wasn’t so cruel, so dark. You hope that in a different life, he would have grown into a normal kid, with hopes and dreams and a list of things he wanted to do and go out and experience. You didn’t want him to be shackled to a world that’s left you so scarred.

You fought for any sense of normality you could give him. If that meant confronting the higher-ups, so be it. At times, you even confronted Satoru.

He was just a boy.

Fire never harmed you; it never dared to scorch your skin. You commanded and held domination over nearly every flicker of heat. He was so small when you met him; you remember the first time you saw his small form shiver in the cold. It made you anxious. Despite buying him the heaviest winter coat you could find, you were beside yourself, always wondering—is he warm enough?

But, long were the days of you bundling him up in his jacket, tying his shoes, and tugging beanies over his dark hair and red ears. Long were the days of you clasping his little hands in yours to bring them warmth when the air grew too bitter. He grew older, smarter, wiser, and stronger. The boy that used to cling to your skirt after a hard day at school now stood inches taller than you.

You knew that one day he’d leave you, and you were okay with that. Seeing him so ready for the world made you happy. You worried—of course you still worried—but you were so proud. He was hesitant, unsure at times, and sometimes even looked back to you for assurance.

You were always there, smiling, ushering him along.

You can do it. I believe in you.

You grew up together, you think. Sometimes, you wondered if he ever paid for your shortcomings, or if he remembered your failures as a caregiver, but just like you did him, he’d assure you with a soft nudge and a gentle smile.

He knows you did the best you could with what you had.

He was just a boy.

Your boy.

He wasn’t yours, but you loved him like he was. Only as he grew did you realize the lines you had crossed.

He doesn’t remember his mother, but you’re sure he remembered her smile, perhaps her touch, or the sound of her laughter. You never meant to impose on her memory.

When it happened, he had just gotten into Tokyo Jujutsu High, and Satoru took him on his first official mission. You no longer had the means of pushing this off; you couldn’t beg Satoru or the higher-ups for another month, another week, another day. Megumi wasn’t a normal kid. He was a sorcerer and needed to start fulfilling his duties and mastering his technique.

“You can’t avoid the inevitable. You can’t protect him forever,” Satoru had once told you.

You knew he was right.

You stayed home that day, anxious and worried, but you knew Megumi would be alright. Satoru was with him. Even if the tall man was a bit harder on Megumi than you, you knew he’d keep him safe.

However, your worst fears came to fruition. Megumi wasn’t the same after that mission.

You remember. Satoru’s eyes were stern that night while Megumi's eyes never left the floor as he made his way to his room.

You remember thinking—what could I do to make my boys happy again?

After all, they were your everything, the reason you stood here now with a full heart. Things were newer for you and Satoru then, but he kissed you that night, warm, large hands gently holding your cheeks. He missed you a little bit extra that day. You were nervous, hesitant to fall into the sanctuary of his embrace, but it was only a matter of time until you were fully, devotedly his.

“Are you okay?” You had asked, only for him to nod his head.

“Yeah. Of course, I am, angel. Megumi is shaken up, but he’ll be alright too.”

You made Megumi’s favorite dinner that night—the same beefsteak he’s raved about since he was only six. Well, he never raved, but you perfectly remember the first time you made it, which happened to be the first time he tried it. He could barely get his chin over the table to scope his food into his mouth. He wasn’t good with chopsticks yet, so he used a little fork, which he held in his tiny fist. His little eyebrows raised before dipping down, creasing at the inner corners as he concentrated on the flavor. He murmured it’s good, and you remember being so proud of yourself. That was one of the first times you felt that you were doing something right by him. You made the same dish on occasion, and time only helped you perfect the recipe.

Megumi never came out of his room that night. The lights were off when you knocked. Even after hearing no response, you had cracked open the door, poking your head inside.

“Gumiii,” you stepped into his room. He was on his bed, groaning as you flicked the light on. He turned his back to you. “I made your favoriteee.”

You had sat on the edge of his bed, a hot plate of food in your hands. “C’mon, it’s the beefsteak you like. Nice and warm.”

“‘m not hungry,” he had grumbled.

You sighed. “The mission must have been unpleasant.” He remained still. “I’m sorry, Gumi. Satoru said you did well! I’m proud of you—” he flinched from your touch, snapping his arm away from your reach. You froze, having felt the coldness of his rejection. “If you don’t want to talk about the mission, how was your first day at your new school?” You asked. “Do you have any classmates you like?”

“Just quit it already…” he had murmured. “I’m not in the mood.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re okay. My first mission was tough too, and you already know I wasn’t great at making friends either–” you winced, biting your tongue. This was coming out all wrong. “… are you okay, Megumi?”

“I’m fine!” He clipped, pushing himself upright in bed. “Just leave me alone and stop acting like you’re my mom already!”

You remembered—and just the memory of that night shambled your heart. You could never forget the hurt those words caused and how you couldn’t show it.

You had smiled wearily. Then, you placed his dinner on his desk. “…you’re right,” you echoed. “I’m not her, never could be. I’m sorry if I imposed. I never meant to.”

You never spoke of the incident, but you remembered that things were tense between Satoru and Megumi for a short while after that. You told Satoru to drop it, but you had a feeling the poor boy received a tongue-lashing from Satoru. You were never sure, though, and you could never prove it.

You just remembered feeling cracks in the foundation of the home you never knew you had so carefully crafted, brick by brick. Some of the warmth was gone—a warmth you never knew was quite there until it wasn’t.

Little by little, you pulled back. Megumi moved into the student dorms shortly after, and he needed you less and less. You no longer made him bento boxes or his favorite beefsteak. You bit your tongue with the lectures: Megumi, that’s not nice, or Megumi, you need to have more faith in yourself. You can do it.

Though the bitter bite of cold never entirely touched you, heated by an unquenchable fame, you pulled back your hand when you reached for him. He left you seared—burned.

You still worried. You never knew if you were giving him too much or not enough. So, you left most of the mentoring to Satoru now. It’s been a few months since the incident, and now you only ever speak to him if he approached you first.

That's why you were happy when you spotted him in town. You offered him a small, shy wave. He unexpectedly approached you and asked how you were and what you’d been up to. However, the most unexpected part was when he asked if you were busy. You shook your head, and it was impossible to hide you beam when he offered to get you hot chocolate from the same coffee shop you used to take him to after school in the colder months.

However, it seemed you weren’t the only one confused by Satoru’s recent behavior.

“Huh?”

“Gojo didn’t want me going on my mission,” Megumi reiterated.

You blink a few times, tapping your fingers against the styrofoam cup in your hands. “Huh. He’s never done that before.”

“He doesn’t think I’m ready. He took the mission himself.”

“He said that? That he doesn’t think you’re ready?”

“Well… not exactly.” He scowls slightly, looking down at the cup of hot chocolate. “But he damn well implied it.”

“Gumi,” you frown at the boy. He doesn’t make eye contact with you; he looks forward now, gazing out the window and watching the fresh snow coat the ground.

He was upset.

“He could’ve at least taken me with him.”

For a moment, you see that same little boy you met over ten years ago and that same dejected look on his face after being let down one too many times. It breaks your heart.

“If Satoru took the mission and went alone, I’m sure it’s for a good reason.”

He wants to say more but opts for something quick and sweet. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You have to do something. Quick. Anything to make him a bit happier. “I have a mission later in Osaka. I’ll be catching the 2 pm train. Wanna come? I could use the extra help.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, you presume, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Great! And just so you know, we’ll probably be dealing with a grade one or two.”

He pauses momentarily before calmly asking, “And you need help with that?”

“Uh, yeah. Any help is much appreciated. Plus, I haven’t seen you much recently.” You smile brightly, and he turns his head, eyes finding the ground, looking a little bashful.

“About that…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave him off. “You’ve been busy with school, and I know that.”

“But that’s not–”

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you smile again, resisting the urge to reach across the table and gently squeeze his hand. “I get it.”

He gives you a look, a small disgruntled scowl. He wanted to say more.

“Alrighty then.” You stand, stretching from sitting in the chair. “I’ll buy you another hot chocolate for the road. We should probably start getting ready to leave.”

The mission goes well. An abandoned warehouse in Osaka conjured up a nasty looking grade three, but Megumi held his own just fine—like you expected. He’s grown much stronger and more sure of himself. You’re proud. Seeing how far he’s come certainly puts a smile on your face. He’s not a little boy anymore, you realized. He’s growing into a fine young man.

Urg. Stop getting emotional.

However, after stopping for a later dinner, you both arrived home late, around nine or so.

“You did good tonight, Megumi,” you tell him for the nth time.

He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ve told me that already.”

“I know, I know. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you. You’re getting so much stronger.”

Instead of brushing you off like all the other times, he sighs before offering a forced “thanks.”

“Alrighty then. Try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you and the others sometime tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Get back home safe.”

You nod, smiling. You make sure to watch him as he goes, making sure he gets inside before turning around. He’s capable of taking care of himself, but some habits never grow old. Making sure he gets inside anywhere safely has always been something you’ve prioritized, whether he was going to a friend's house, school, or boarding the train.

You loved him like your own, but you knew he wasn't. After all, it was only a few months ago now that he reminded you that he wasn't yours.

You’re not my mom.

It hurt—it still does—but you never held it against him. You still loved him nevertheless. Your relationship might have shifted but it doesn’t negate the fact that you care for him and would gladly give your life if it meant keeping him safe.

Then, there was Kugisaki and Itadori—two others slowly weaseling their way into your heart. They’ve helped Megumi so much; he might be too proud to admit it, but they’ve helped him come out of his shell; they were his friends, and you knew they had each other backs.

You sigh, a translucent cloud of white floating up and above your head. Just like always, your thoughts shift to blue eyes. Satoru. You’ve missed him today. No calls or obnoxious spam texts. It’s not unusual per se, especially when he gets busy. Regardless, you missed him.

But, something is bothering you. He wasn't communicating with you and he usually tells you these things. Even if he didn't have the time to tell you something right away, he'd eventually find a moment to talk to you. This time around, he didn’t. He didn't tell you he was leaving or about the whole ordeal with Megumi.

He just got up and left. You woke to a cold bed and an empty house. No text message, no note with a silly doodle. When you called him in the morning, it went right to voicemail. Eventually, when you pull up your shared text messages to check for anything new, you only saw the message you sent him from the day before. At a loss, you type out a quick message. You didn't think it would make things better, but at least it was something.

I hope you have a good day today :)

It was all you could really muster up after last night. He seemed so agitated, and so fed up. You blamed it on stress; he isn’t usually like that. Usually, his touch was careful, calculated as if you were fixed of glass. You missed his lame jokes and mischievous grins when he was up to no good. You weren't offered any of that last night. Or the night before. Even the night before that.

You’re starting to worry.

He always bounces back so quickly. The only thing that typically gets him this mad are the higher-ups. Which, in Megumi's case, makes sense. You can see why Gojo would intervene if they gave him a dangerous mission.

But why didn’t he take Megumi with him, at least?

Hm.. maybe it was beyond Megumi's skill set. Would the elders be stupid enough to set him up? They did it to you long ago, but they wouldn’t be bold enough to do it to the boy with the ten shadows technique, would they?

Or maybe Satoru… just doesn’t want to be near you?

Urg. You roll your eyes at your own selfish thoughts. Satoru wouldn’t do something like that. He’s already overworked as it is. Maybe you should make him something. A nice dinner? Or maybe he needed a pick-me-up? Kikufuku? You’re sure you could find the recipe online.

You're torn, so you decide to make both. Maybe you'll even put on a nice dress.

You decide to call him, and after a few rings, he answers. “Hey, honey,” you say sweetly, happy he even bothered to answer your call. "I was wondering when you’d be home tonight. I want to make you a nice dinner.”

He’s quiet again—too quiet. “Dinner? Tonight?”

“Yeah, you’ve been so busy lately. I figured you’d like that.”

He hums into the phone, sounding a bit lighter. “Dinner does sound nice…”

Your smile widens. You could hear the underlying stress in his tone; it was flatter than usual, but at least he was trying. “... I’ll even put on your favorite dress?”

He chuckles a bit. “Tempting, but I’ll probably have to leave after dinner.”

“Oh,” you murmur, wincing slightly at the rejection. Maybe you’ve gotten too spoiled—too accustomed to him pushing off his responsibilities all for the sake of spending a few more moments with you. Were you being too greedy? “Are you okay? They’re not stretching you too thin, are they?”

He sighs in a carefree tone. “I'm doing fine. Same old thing, just a different day,” is all he offers, but you can tell he’s withholding.

“I can help, y’know,” you offer gently. “If you have too many missions, I can take a few off your plate.”

“Nah,” he tells you a bit arrogantly. “It’s better if I handle it.”

Now you’re really starting to feel the distance. He usually reserves the softer parts of him for you. You suppose he just didn’t have the patience to do so right now. “You, uh, got into it with the higher-ups I heard,” you mention, trying to keep the conversation going but approaching from a different angle. “Megumi was telling me you even took his mission. I think he was a bit upset you didn’t take him with you. How come you never told me?”

“How come you never told me you were going to Osaka? Or the fact that you took him with you?”

Your stomach twists, unease bubbling in your chest. You didn’t like where this was heading. “I– it’s never bothered you before,” you manage, though your voice falters, dying down into nothing but a whisper. “And it’s not like you’ve been… wanting to speak to me recently. I haven't had the time to tell you much of anything," your trail off, your voice slowly fading before you begin again. "Did I do something to make you mad?”

The silence that follows is unbearable—longer than you ever imagined it could be. “Satoru… Please just talk to me.”

“I gotta go,” his tone is cold, clipped, and final.

There’s a click as he hangs up, and the silence becomes deafening and threateningly absolute.

You realize you miss the way he used to look at you. Not the way he'd gaze at you, but in the way he would gaze into you, as though you were ever the only thing that ever really mattered.

After your last conversation with him, you were unsteady. You hated how you stayed in bed for hours, analyzing everything he's said to you recently, dissecting his every action. You hated how needy you suddenly felt, even while laying there, in his bed, in his clothes. He paused just a second too long before answering you now, as if he had to must up the courage and energy to do so. His laugh no longer came out easily. Others might miss it, but you never could. It was still rambunctious, taking up a whole room, but to you, it felt forced, brittle even. You've known Satoru at his best, and you've also known him at his worst.

When he looks at you now, you wonder if he's really seeing you. Painfully, you realize you haven't seen him; not without his eyeband on at least. Last night you did, for the first time in a while, but he seemed agitated.

The worst part was that you didn't know how to bring yourself to confront him. You struggled, unsure which pretty words and cadence would unluck the distance between you two.

Did something happen on one of his missions? Was he stressed? Had the higher-ups pushed him too far, testing his patience?

Or was it you? Was this somehow your fault?

Did you scare him away? Have you said too much, cared too deeply, loved too loudly?

You weren't sure, but you had to try something.

You were grateful you were cooking him dinner tonight on your day off. It was the least you could do, and you adored taking care of him. You choose hot pot, something you and Satoru have tried at home before. It took over a few hours to prepare, but it was worth it. You made two broths, you sliced up shabu-shabu and wagyu beef and even went to the extent of watching a video to make a dipping sauce. Unfortunately, you forgot one of the ingredients for the kikufuku mochi and didn’t want to risk making something he didn’t entirely like. Luckily, you had spare time to run down to the kikufuku store right before it closed. Of course, you grabbed all his favorite, two boxfuls, in fact. He was a big guy, so you hoped you had more than enough food for him to indulge.

You and Satoru were together. Though he never outright asked you to be his, you knew. It was an unspoken thing, and you were content with that. For as goofy and eccentric as that man could be, it was rather surprising how he was never outright with what he was actually feeling.

He was damn good at showing it, though. In more ways than one.

You feel it in the way he’d always reach for you after a nightmare. Shaking, needy hands tightly clasping at your waste, fearful of you disappearing and slipping to a place where he could not reach you. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow. Please. His face would nuzzle into your neck, sharply inhaling your scent. You’d hold him, whispering endless promises. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Or it's okay. Breathe, my love. I’m with you.

You feel it on the nights he’d pin you beneath him, his grunts and moans echoing in your ears as he fills you so completely. He’d beg, no demand you—tell me you’re mine. Only mine.

And, of course, you’d eagerly nod, overwhelmed with the pleasure only he could strum out of you so perfectly. ‘m yours. All of me—yours.

You feel it in his protective gaze, his eagerness to hold you in the life vest of his arms. You felt it late into the night, damp bodies pressed against one another; low lighting, quiet laughter, and secrets revealed. His dreams, his wishes, his what ifs—the parts of him that no one knew or considered. Or when he handed you a silver key with a handsome and cheshire grin. What do you say? He was lovely, every bit of him, especially his gentle and selfless heart that you would never take for granted like the rest of the world seemed to.

You feel it when he comes home from overseas and how his strong arms hold onto you just a bit longer, a bit tighter. You feel it with how he smiles into your neck or that one time at the airport when he lifted you up and spun you around, uncaring who saw.

You feel it in the way that it was unspoken. You feel it in his cursed energy and how it perfectly intertwined with yours, reaching for you, comforting you when his hands could not. You especially feel it in the necklace he gifted you—the one your fingers were playing with now: a silver chain with cerulean sapphires, the same breathtaking shade of his eyes. His cursed energy, carefully imbued into the stones, was like carrying a piece of him with you—always, wherever you may go, and it rests directly above your beating heart.

He might not voice it, but you feel it. He loved you. And you certainly loved him.

So when had it become so hard to reach him? Why does he seem so intangible all of a sudden? Something deep and unsettling blooms in your stomach.

And now that you think about it…

When was the last time you two did any of that? When was the last time his careful hands caressed you?

Only Satoru could make you this worried or make you feel this displaced. A sense of panic strikes you, and you pull out your phone to text him when you realize he’s thirty minutes late. Usually, that wouldn’t bother you, but–

After only three rings, you're sent to voicemail. When you check his location, he’s at the high school. Should you check on him? Or would that make him… mad?

He toru! Dinners ready. When do you think you’ll be home? Miss you.

You bite your lip. He quickly read your message, but those three little bubbles never show up.

Nothing. Just nothing.

Maybe he’s staying up late writing the report for his latest mission?

“eek!” Your phone pings, and after a round of hot potato, you see he’s texted you back.

Only to be met with more disappointment.

Dealing with something urgent. Don’t wait up.

You frown, knowing you should drop it, but you can’t.

Satoru…

He’s typing faster now. What?

You pause, thumbs hovering over letters you hesitate to type. What’s going on? You’ve been off lately.

I’m fine. Just busy.

Do you want me to bring you dinner to the High School?

Those three bubbles appear and disappear more times than you can count. No. I said don’t wait up.

You know I don't sleep well without you.

He responds in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Your patience is wearing thin for the first time since this ordeal started. Are you saying you won’t be coming home tonight?

You’re offered no response. He doesn’t even open your message. For the second night, you lay in a cold bed. Except, Satoru doesn’t come home.

Only he could fracture you so completely.

During your next mission, you brought the whole trio along. According to the report you were handed, you were only dealing with a grade three, but there was also an Infestation in the area. You could use the backup.

You had initially asked Megumi, but once Yuji caught wind, he was adamant that he tagged along, and, according to Nobara she had nothing else better to do.

“Are you guys sure? It’s your day off.”

Yuji shrugs, both arms up, hands up and behind his head. “Yeah, I’m game.”

“Me too,” Nobara voices with a small glint in her eyes. “I got something new I want to try out anyway. We didn’t get to go on a mission last week as it is.”

You paused. "Huh? Gojo didn’t take you on any?”

“Nah,” Yuji shakes his head. “I think he’s been busy or something.” He looks at Kugisaki. “Hasn’t Gojo-Sensei seemed a little… off?”

Nobara nods. “Uh yeah. He hasn’t been himself at all. We figured you’d know something,” Nobara says, curious eyes scanning you.

“Huh… I’m not sure. We haven’t gotten around to talking lately.”

Megumi hums, though it sounds more suspicious than his usual passive tone.

Though they weren’t necessarily your students, you figured there was no harm in taking them. You've done it before and having them around was always like a breath of fresh air—reminding you of why Satoru dedicates himself so fully to his cause and being a teacher. They give you a reason to get stronger and keep fighting. You loved these kids and all their bickering.

Except, this mission doesn’t go anything like you had expected. The report was wrong—a grade two was ambling through the abandoned schoolhouse. That was fine; the four of you were more than enough to kill it. The infestation was a bit overwhelming, but you had their backs, and they were nothing but pesky small curses lower than a grade four.

Everything went well when the ambush happens. You all saw it: right in front of your eyes, a grade one emerging from the shadows, born into something nasty. It's skin oozed a sickly black slime that clung to its misshapen body. Its face—or lack there of—was dark and amorphous, split by a jagged maw that stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp serrated teeth, ready to cut and slash through flesh like a meat grinder. Other that is daunting appearance, the only other notable thing about it was its speed.

You told the kids to back down, but it was already too late. They were already involved, stuck in the heat of battle and fighting as a seamless unite. They were more than capable of standing on their own.

But you needed them out of here. Your obligation was to protect them no matter how eager they were to help. However, before you could think of your next move, the curse made one last self-preserving attack. It opened in wide jaws, releasing several red beamed energy blast aimed directly at stone pillars.

You had no time to think, only react. In an instant, you surged forward towards the trio, faster than their eyes could react. Grunting, you knocked them back, glass shattering as you kicked them through a window. You felt the impact ripple through your body, fully knowing you knocked the wind out of Megumi and Yuji. However, they recovered quickly, their instincts sharp enough to catch Nobara–

Right in time before the building collapsed.

The building groaned like a wounded beast, its entire frame buckling from lack of support. Stone walls crumbled into clouds of dust and debris, windows shattered in explosive bursts, steel beams twisted and snaped with sickening shrieks. The ground trembled violently as the structure gave way, collapsing into a chaotic heap of concrete, rubble, and smoke, swallowing everything beneath. Including you.

You survived. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy made you strong enough to withstand the impact, and your heavenly restriction certainly helped. Nevertheless, you still took on quite a bit of damage from the tons of metal and concrete.

You woke up under the rubble with a startling gasp, choking on the dust. Were you out for a few seconds? Minutes? You were unsure, but the only thing pushing you to stand was the panic coated in Megumi’s voice. He was calling for you, and so were the others. You could hear the strain in their voices, the utter distraught. You healed your broken leg and the gash on the corner of your forehead, ceasing your gushing blood. You gathered yourself and your strength before pushing. They found you quickly after that, noticing a heap of rubble moving. They ran, rushing to help you push back concrete that threatened to suffocate you. You never did like tight spaces.

Thankfully, you were alright. The kids were safe as well.

However, the curse had escaped. Megumi was visibly shaken, his fingernail cracked, bruised, and bleeding from digging urgently through the rubble to find you.

Everyone was on edge. It wasn't their fault you didn't react quickly enough. You were more than capable; maybe that's why the failure stung so much.

You let yourself down. You let them down.

You were spiraling into a dark place quickly. The guilt threatened to swallow you whole. Gojo was still nowhere to be seen. You didn't have the strength to call him. You’re not sure what you could even say. You’ve fucked up before, but never to this extent. Not to where a whole building collapsed.

“Good morning. A tragic incident occurred last night when an abandoned school collapsed around 7 pm. Authorities are currently investigating the cause, and preliminary reports suggest that the collapse could have been due to a structural weakness—one of the many reasons why the school was abandoned in the first place. We will continue to monitor the situation as more information becomes available–"

Megumi gently grabs your phone and locks your screen. Wordlessly, he shakes his head before pocketing your device. You’re too exhausted to ask for it back.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sensei?” Yuji's voice was soft, the first voice to break the ice. You look up from your hands, unsure how long you’ve been lost in thought. You force a small smile as you gaze at the three kids. You were sitting across from them in the waiting area outside the council room.

“I’m alright. Are you guys?"

“We’re all fine,” Megumi cuts in quickly. “We’re– we’re more than okay.”

“That's good,” you trail off. “That's really good.”

Uncertainty hung dangerously in the air. What happened now? You were okay, but for how long?

You knew you were in for a lashing with all the collateral damage you caused. It was supposed to be a simple mission. This wasn't supposed to happen. You four were fine, but did anyone else get hurt?

You flinch at your own thought. You don't think you could live with yourself if innocent lives were lost.

“Sensei?” Yuji's soft, unsure voice cuts in once more. When your eyes make contact, he smiles brightly. You can tell it’s forced. “After this, wanna go get something to eat? There’s this great sandwich shop down the street!”

“Y–yeah!” Nobara sits up straight after being less than conspicuously nudged by Yuji. “It’s pretty good. We went the other day–”

The council room door creaked open. The higher-ups were waiting, shrouded in shadows and faces hidden. Even if you couldn't see them, the tension was palpable. Even without seeing them directly, you could sense their anger, smell it as it rolled off of them in a quiet, unspoken fury. You glance at the kids once more, this time with a gentle, reassuring smile curling at your lips.

Everything would be okay.

Everything was, in fact, not okay.

The air was heavy as you entered your office. Your limbs ached, your head throbbed, and every breath felt like dragging glass through your lungs. You had thought the worst of it was over, and slowly, you felt your body begin to shut down, but only when there were no prying eyes to see how you compensated for your injuries. Even after using RCT, you had a limp—your bones were mended but not quite right. Your head was no longer bleeding—but still, you weren't quite right.

You dismiss it as exhaustion; after all, you had just learned RCT not too long ago. Maybe you missed something. However, this wasn’t anything you couldn't handle on your own. You could see Shoko, but why bother her? You’ve endured far worse. Dealing with a sore body and a headache for the next few days wasn’t out of your jurisdiction.

When you open the door, a flickering lamplight reveals a tall frame standing by your desk. Even before your eyes dance upon his sharp and still silhouette, the air shifts—your soul already knows he is there. Satoru.

But, his eyes never meet yours; you weren’t blessed enough to see them, a bright blue illuminating in the absence of light. His eyes were covered with a familiar dark cloth. However, you didn’t need to see them to know that the usual warmth they held as he gazed upon you was gone. In its place was a coldness that turned your stomach.

“Satoru–”

“I know,” he says, voice clipped as he turns to face you. “I read the reports.” Your heart sinks as he haphazardly tosses the report down to your desk.

You’re exhausted, unsure of where to even begin. So many questions floated in your weary mind. Where were you? When did you get here? Please, don’t be mad at me.

It’s funny how all your dignity, poise, and strength to endure are gone with him. You already took one berating from the elders, and you’re not sure you could handle another.

Not from him.

“But, I want to hear it from you.” He stepped closer, his height making him all the more domineering. “What happened out there? And how the hell are my students caught up in all of this?”

“The report was wrong. It was a grade two, not three, but we handled that just fine. We cleared out the area and completed the mission, but we were ambushed. A grade one appeared, destroyed the pillars, and–” You hesitate, unable to form the words. “Well, you know what happened.” He’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. “I–I did everything I could, Satoru. The students were fine, but the curse got away.”

“Everything you could?" His voice echoes. "I don’t need excuses. Certainly not from you. You endangered them—all of them. They’re not even your students!” He snapped, his voice rising in a way you’ve never heard before.

You bite back the lump forming in your throat. “I thought you, out of anyone, would understand the circumstances.”

“...Understand?” He utters back, a quiet fury rolling off him in waves.

“I made sure that–”

“You failed,” he snaps, voice laced with malice. “Enough. Just stop it. You were reckless and went behind my back, and you let a pathetic grade one get the best of you.”

Your chest tightened, crumbling at the weight of his tone. “Went behind your back? I did no such thing.”

“They could have been hurt because of you!” You visibly flinch, his words carrying more weight than the debris that had buried you—broken bones and all.

“I’m recommending you be demoted to grade two.”

What?

“You can’t do that. Satoru, you can’t–”

“I can,” he said coldly. “and I will. You failed, and not only did you fail, you went behind my back and involved my students. Your recklessness caused this,” disdain coats his voice, and he sucks his teeth. “I was gone for two fucking seconds, and you damn near ruined everything. People could have died. My students could have been injured. So stop being a nuisance and just do as you're told from here on out.”

No.

No, no, no, no.

You fought for years to get to grade one. A woman with a name of no renown—this society was never in favor of you; the system was set up for you only to fail time and time again. For years, you were held at grade three, then grade two, all because of your name’s sake—all because you were a woman. You didn’t have the luxury of being as good as other sorcerers; you had the burden to be better.

Even now, at grade one, they continue to undermine you and undervalue you. You knew you didn’t have room to make mistakes, for they would tarnish every bit of good you have done. You thought Satoru understood that. You thought he viewed you as an equal, someone strong enough to stand by him. You thought he valued you, respected you.

You never thought a mistake, a stupid mistake, would lead to this.

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.

“This has nothing to do with my rank. You don’t believe me. You don't trust me. After everything–”

Hearing his scornful laugh, your vision begins to blur. “Don’t make this personal. You fucked up, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

Your ears begin ringing. The pounding in your head becomes too much and threatens to crack your skull open once more.

“But it is, isn’t it?” You whisper. How could it not be personal with how he's been treating you for days? “You haven't been able to look at me in weeks. You speak to me as if I’ve become nothing but a burden to you—a nuisance. What did I do to deserve this?”

He remains silent, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth. Point proven.

Your heart painfully twists with each beat. “Do you even… care about me anymore?” You’re not sure why you say it, why the words slip past your lips, but they do.

He read the report and he hadn't even asked if you were okay. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but it makes your chest ache. You just wanted to go home, crawl in bed and hold him. However, you knew that wasn't in the cards right now.

“Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

Your voice finally wavers before him, cracking as you press on, desperate for him to understand—desperate to have him by your side as he has been for so many years.

“You’re casting me aside like I’m... worthless."

It was cruelty, a quiet and deafening insult for him to demote you of your status—but more specifically, your place beside him. That hurt runs deep, to the point that feelings of betrayal start seeping into your veins, poisoning you, antagonizing you. Belittling you. It was a sharp dagger you never expected—searing with a hatred that threatened to cripple you. This wasn’t just about your position. He was a man of unchallenged stature, of the highest status and regard, lowering you, demeaning you with his every word, every action.

When did things go so wrong?

Yet, even now, you question yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you taking this too personally? Were you being selfish?

Because he was right. Every word he's said so far was right. You failed. You put them in danger.

You stand there, a hollow feeling growing in your chest. The sting of Satoru’s words cut deeper than any blade you’ve faced. His jaw tightened, his gaze hard as steel and cold as ice. “You gave me what I never asked for.”

“Don't you dare!” You snap, finger trembling as you point his way with an accusatory jab. “Don’t you dare pretend this is nothing. You know me better than anyone. How could I not take this personally? I’ve done nothing but stand by you, love you, trust you–”

“Like I said, I never asked for any of that,” he utters sharply, his carefully composed exterior shattering. “Whatever we were was nothing more than fucking convenience.”

Suddenly, he stops, freezing at the onslaught of his own lethal words. His next words seemed to die in his throat. The damage was done.

Exhausted, defeated, numb. His words hit you like a death blow. “... Convenience?” Echoing the very word that came from his lips—a sound you hardly recognize comes from your mouth, a small slip of the anguish tormenting and swelling in your body escapes.

The necklace around your neck, the very one he had given you, seemed to pulse against your skin, warm and alive. It carried a piece of him, a piece of you, a guiding hand in the absence of light: a thread, an anchor—a way home.

Suddenly, you hated it. Hated the way it sat so close to your heart, hated the warmth, his energy; you hated that, even now, his words cutting so deep, unraveling the fabric of your being, it comforted you, reaching for you.

You yanked it off, the chain snapping in two as you held it in your trembling hands.

He falters, his whole being frozen. “What are you doing?” he asked, quiet and tense, blanketed in uncertainty.

“I don’t want it,” you say, voice quivering, threatening to fail you at any moment. His energy—the only energy that blended so perfectly with yours—reached for you, and so did his trembling hands. Reflexively, you flinched away, retreating further into the room and further from him. “Don’t,” you shake your head. “Don’t touch me. Not with your hands, not with your energy. Don’t.”

Silent tears stream down your face. You are unable to look at him, and your breathing is shallow and unsteady. You open your hand, letting the necklace drop to the floor. The faint sound of metal hitting wood echoes in the suffocating silence of the room.

There’s a soft knock on the door. It creaks, slightly opening. “... Y/n sensei?” came an unsure voice.

You stiffen, and suddenly, you can sense them, three nervous students standing outside your door. Too caught up with Satoru, you had entirely missed them. You clear your throat and dry your cheeks with the back of your hand before turning to the door. You walk over, opening the door wide enough to see them.

“Sorry if we’re interrupting, but we just wanted to know if you still wanted to come out for dinner with us...”

Fuck. How much did they hear?

You take a breath, and it’s shakier than you anticipated. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. Let me grab my jacket, okay.”

Yuji only offers an unsure smile. Norbora has a hard time even looking at you, while Megumis's eyes are solid and unyielding, glaring right past you. His hands were in his pockets, balled into tight fists.

You don’t know what to do other than quickly turning. Within a few ushered strides, you were at your desk, grabbing your coat off your desk chair; you’re careful to avoid Gojo, who manages to plaster on that big fucking grin.

“Heard you guys were up to no good while I was away.”

“We were fine,” Megumi interjects before Yuji could open his mouth. “More than fine.”

“Y–yeah, everything ended up being just fine. Y/n-sensei made sure of that,” Nobara awkwardly adds, shifting her weight on her feet.

“Ah,” Gojo nods. “Well, make sure you get some rest tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow! You guys will be training with the second years!”

You hated how he could act as if everything was alright while you were fighting back tears. It was another jab, a suckerpunch to the gut.

You just needed to get out of there.

After dinner with the kids, you headed out on your own the following day. You went home, stuffing some clothes in a bag before spending the night at a cheap motel. Before getting with Satoru, you always floated from place to place, never truly settling. Those days, all you carried on you was your backpack. You didn’t have a home or many possessions you could call your own. You just had yourself.

I guess old habits die hard.

Megumi was the first to text you: I went to Gojo's house today and didn’t see you.

All good! I’ve been busy running errands.

Nobara text you sometime after.

Hey Sensei!! Let me know if you’re available today! Let’s go shopping!

You responded rather quickly. Sorry, I’m not around today. Maybe ask Maki? Or maybe Yuji and Megumi would like to tag along.

But guys suck :(

Then, there was Yuji: Hey, Sensei! Let me know if you want ramen! The gang and I got you since you covered for us the other night! I even got coupons!

You weren’t sure what to say. You always covered for their meals (no exceptions), but you knew they were just trying to be kind. You double-tapped and hearted the message.

You appreciated them more than anything, but frankly, it was a bit embarrassing. You never meant for them to overhear you and Satrou that night in your office, and you were never one for pity. If it were anyone else, you would have called them out and told them off. However, you wouldn’t dream of doing that to the kids. They were trying to support you in the only way they knew how, but it wasn’t their responsibility to worry about you.

Surprisingly, Shoko was the next person to contact you. You never stopped by my office. I’m assuming you’re alright?

Smiling gently, you responded. Yeah, no injuries to report.

A building collapsed on you.

You scoff, imagining her deadpan expression. Heavenly restriction, remember?

That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Yeesh. Just meet me at the bar you like downtown.

That’s where you are now, Shoko’s favorite bar, tossing back your third shot. ”Take it easy. I don’t feel like dragging you home tonight.”

“Ah. I’m alright, Shoko.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Neither do you with those bags under your eyes.”

She brings her drink to her lips, mumbling “touché” before taking a swig. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Vivid memories pressed to the front of your mind of the building collapsing. “Satoru is demoting me. After the elders ripped into me, I found him waiting for me in my office.”

“He– what? Jeez,” she took another sip of sake. “Out of everything, I didn’t expect that.”

“I– we haven’t been doing too good. I’m not sure if there even is an us after last night.”

“Huh. He did seem a little out of it today.”

“Somehow, I kinda doubt that.” There’s a beat of silence, and you swirl the liquid in your cup.

“If it means anything, he asked me about you. Asked if you were alright.”

You smile a bit sardonically. If Satoru really wanted to find you, you knew he could, as he had the means to do so. From here, you were only about five miles away from his estate. It’s not like you were too for his eyes to see. Suddenly, that thought bothers you, and you find yourself almost subconsciously concealing your cursed energy.

“Is that why you texted me?”

She gives you a weird look. “Partially. I had my own concerns.”

“Like what?”

“If I’m being honest with you, you’re not great at RCT. I wanted to check and make sure everything was alright. It eventually catches up with you if you don’t do it correctly. I’ve seen it cause irreparable damage before.”

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

“You should come to my office tomorrow so I can check–”

“I think I’m gonna quit.”

“…what?”

“I mean, that’s what they really want, right?”

“If you do that, they’ll find the easiest excuse to label you as a traitor. A cursed user.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Since day one, they’ve been trying to paint me as a villain.”

“So don’t give them what they want,” Shoko bites back. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Listen, I can’t stop you. You are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day, but you don’t need to do this. You made a mistake.”

“I’m just tired,” you tell her truthfully. “For months, I’ve been pretending, going through the motions. I've been miserable. Megumi hasn’t wanted me around much. He’s older now, and he doesn’t need me anymore–”

“Of course he does,” Shoko cuts you off. “He’s still a kid.”

“And I’m not his mother,” you retort bitterly. “Then, there’s Satoru. He’s been so distant. He used to always be in my corner and make everything better, but I don’t even have that now. Now, all of the jujutsu society thinks I’m a liability. He thinks I’m a liability. Maybe it’s why he’s grown to resent me so much.”

“Please. Just stop talking,” Shoko remarks, overwhelmed with how quickly you were talking. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of conversations like these, but at least she listened. “I’m here if you ever need anyone. And please, don’t let this fester. I would rather not lose another friend.” She takes a large gulp this time, finishing her drink before gesturing for a refill. “Tsk. Satoru is complicated—I get it—but he wouldn’t want you to leave. Neither would Megumi. That kid loves you. Maybe you and Gojo just need a break.”

A break? Ha. That was one way of putting it. However, it already felt much more like a breakup, and its permanence frightened you. Like many other things in your relationship, it was never voiced but certainly felt.

“Yeah,” you say softly, body buzzing as you down your fourth shot. “Maybe you’re right.”

You start walking home after having drinks with Shoko. It was a long walk, and you took your time. You weren’t in a rush to head home to potential chaos. The thought of staying at a hotel crossed your mind, but you had nothing to change into. Frankly, it didn’t matter where you went either. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep any better.

Though, it’s not like you were going back home to anything good. You were suspended without pay; you couldn’t go near the school grounds or exercise any curses—a stipulation you rolled your eyes at. If they thought just a few measly words would stop you from exercising a curse, they would be more idiotic than you thought.

Still, maybe it’s good to take some time off. Maybe you should stay at the hotel. If you were lucky, they’d have a washer and dryer.

Then, your phone starts to ring—a unique ringtone that a white-haired idiot assigned to his contact one day after you let him “borrow” your phone. He even changed his contact photo; years later, you never had the heart to change it.

Your heart aches when you see the contact photo of him, his goofy smile and gorgeous eyes peeking over his black shades. You answered hesitantly after a few rings.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” you hear, his voice light and cheery yet, lacking its usual spark. “Where are you? I know I missed dinner the other night so I picked up your favorite on my way home!”

Back to normal? Just like that?

You take a breath, reeling in your emotions. It wasn’t normal, per se, but you could tell he was trying, stepping cautiously over the ice he knew could shatter at any moment.

“I’m not home, right now.”

“Huuuh?” You can hear the slight whine in his voice, and you can imagine him pouting like a small child. You expect him to carry on with his theatrics, but he hesitates. “When do you think you’ll be home then?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you trail off, unable to keep up his faux mirth and bravado.

“Well, if you don’t want to sleep next to me tonight, I can just take the guest bedroom!” For a moment, he sounds hopeful.

Honestly, he’s just making your head spin.

“Honestly, I think it’s best if I stay out of the house for a little while, Gojo.”

There’s a beat of silence before you hear his nervous laughter. “Gojo?” he remarks dejectedly. “Can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

You were unsure what to say; you hadn’t even realized you initially referred to him by his last name until he pointed it out. You want to tell him sorry—for everything, but your tongue tenses in your mouth, and your throat threatens to close up. You hated it when he got like this, and typically, you’d do anything to make him smile again.

But you’re hurt, and he caused that hurt.

“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he adds quickly, unable to withstand your silence.

“What’s there to talk about?” You ask softly. “What done is done. I messed up.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It can’t be undone now. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Your stomach drops your heart twists and aches. Was he going to officially end things with you? A bitter, more cruel half of you whispers—you weren’t even officially together to begin with. However, none of that even matters; he has too much of you, too many pieces of your frail heart in the palm of his hands. You were irrevocably his, but was he ever yours?

Just a few weeks ago, you thought you would have an entirely different answer than the one you have now. You're too afraid to face him or the truth. You were guilt-ridden, your pride and dignity torn to shreds. Hearing that he no longer wishes to be with you would be too much.

Honestly?

You’re not sure how you’d react. If you’d sob, if you’d remain stoic, or if you’d flip a table and trash every one of your possessions. You’re at wit's end, and the level of fallout threatening to break free from you was immeasurable.

So, you finalize what you had been contemplating just five minutes ago. “I think I’m going to stay at a hotel, Gojo. I need space. Time to think.”

“I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other,” he says lowly, his voice reverberating through the phone. You shiver. “It doesn’t feel right.”

You hated this. You fucking hated this.

Your chest tightens, and your knees weaken. You wanted to give in. He always had that power over you. He ruled your heart so effortlessly. You yearned for him, your heart singing a million love songs, beckoning him back to you.

But you couldn’t. You were too mad. You felt cast aside as if you were nothing but an afterthought—after all these years. Yet again, you feel the foundation of your home cracking, and your knees go weak yet again. You take a shuddering breath right before repeating the exact words he threw at you just a few nights prior—words that so effortlessly dismantled your spirit. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

You’ve always had a habit of running. It was easier for you than most. You figured you’d go back to that cheap motel in Tokyo, but you were too restless. Too angry. Feelings of betrayal ran deep, and the guilt nipped away at you until there was only a void.

Before you could leave, though, you call a number you knew by heart. Stepping onto the train and holding your phone to your ear, it rings. For a moment, you assume he’s asleep. It was getting late, but after the fifth ring, the line clicked. A groggy voice peaks through.

“Sensei? What’s going on?”

“Megumi,” you breathe out. “Hi. Sorry to wake you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Nozomi 1, departing from Tokyo and heading to Kyoto, will depart shortly. Please be careful of your footing while boarding. Please refrain from using mobile phone inside the train–“

“You’re leaving?” The tiredness in his voice is replaced by something else you can’t quite place.

“Only for a short while. It’s not like I’ll be working anytime soon,” you chuckled nervously. “But I just wanted to let you know. It didn’t feel right leaving without speaking to you first.”

“Oh,” is all he can muster up at first. “I– when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure,” you answer him honestly. “A few days, maybe.”

“Well… Can we visit you? I’d go alone, but I think Yuji and Nobara would kill me if I did.”

Oh. You hadn’t expected that. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Um, yeah. When I figure out where I’m staying, I’ll let you know.”

He sounds worried. “You don’t know where you’re staying yet?”

You snicker. “Ha, this is, uh, kinda an impromptu thing.”

“… and you’re sure alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. I just wanted to tell you.”

You can tell he’s not exactly satisfied, but he isn’t one to stop you. “Well, text me where you’ll be staying in a few hours. You should probably hang up now, though, and figure it out.”

You smile softly to yourself. He always was a kind boy—kinder than he’d ever reveal. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Megumi.”

“Night.. I’ll call you later. Be safe.”

When you hang up, you feel a bit better.

The first night was hard—really hard. Sleeping away from Satoru was incredibly difficult, but so were his sharp words that relentlessly bounced around in your mind. You found no peace by your window, watching the last of that day's sunlight slipping away behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the dead trees covered in snow.

You could almost feel his presence, like the cast of your shadow on a wall—following you, mirroring your every move. Your phone never rang with his ringtone, your phone never buzzed with a new text. Yet you stared at the shadows for a bit longer, a bit more intensely, waiting for two blue eyes to illuminate the space. They never did.

Kyoto's stillness seemed to reflect your own, waiting for something to change, waiting for something dead and wilted to bloom once more.

However, even all the way over in Kyoto, bad luck seems to follow you like the plague. You were walking to a small corner market to grab something to eat when you felt the disturbance in the air��tasted it on your tongue. You hoped that surge of cursed energy wasn’t what you thought it was. You would have loved to be proven wrong, but your instincts were keen like a hound trained to hunt.

A curse womb opened right above a Kyoto High school.

You were definitely getting fired after this.

You knew a cursed object was most likely responsible for this. Considering it happened at a school, you were more than willing to bet a strong cursed object was placed there, most likely intended to ward off any other strong curses that might otherwise appear in the area. You assumed the seal broke, probably after hundreds of years of suppressing the power of the object. You’ve dealt with a case like that before.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Three stupid students—ghost hunting of all things—removed the seal. The decorated white cloth tightly wrapped around a black skull was torn, and its viscous cursed energy soared, tinting the sky black.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you hissed under your breath when you slammed open the classroom door. “This way, c’mon!” You didn’t have to tell them twice. Book it, and you stay by their side for as long as you can. You had to put up your veil, but only after they were far enough.

You got impatient, however, especially towards the kid who had been recording everything up until now, where you crushed his phone in your hand.

“Wha– hey! You're gonna pay for that!”

“What the hell is more important? Recording or your fucking lives? Shut up and run!”

The air suddenly cracks with a tension that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s here. You could feel it—the dark, oppressive presence creeping across the courtyard, lurking. You yourself could see it with your eyes, but you felt it.

Your senses were better than most. It was partially why you and Yuji got along and trained together so well. You were just like him when you were younger. Granted, he wasn’t born with cursed energy like you were, but your heavenly restrictions were nearly identical.

You stop running when you reach the edge of the courtyard, but those three kids carry on in a scram. Holding the cursed object in your hands, you raise the skull in the air. It takes a considerable amount of force, but you crush the skull, black dust coating your hand. There’s a hollow screech, and you hope that’s the end of it.

Of course, your bad luck persists.

Typically, destroying the cursed object that’s created a cursed womb kills it or at least nullifies it. The exception is when the curse is an S-grade; those wombs are damn near impenetrable.

Destroying the object seemed only to irritate the curse as it began crawling out of a bloody sac.

You hold up your fist, index, and pointer finger together, pointing to the sky along with your thumb. A crimson veil pours down, covering the entirety of the school. However, you sense three others within your veil just as you seal off the area.

“Yo, Y/n sensei!! What the hell are you doing here, loca!” A deep laugh echoes across the courtyard.

Christ. You knew that voice from anywhere.

You glance over your shoulder and see a few unexpected faces. Utahime and two other students—Miwa and Todo who looks way happier than he should be, considering the circumstances.

The newly born curse loomed menacingly overhead, its red eyes gleaming like coals in a dying fire. It was tall, with protruding joints that snapped into place. Its black and sleek hair extended beyond its long, contorted body. Its face was painted white and cracked as if crafted of aged porcelain. Its kimono was white, stained with splashes of red and black goo. You stood firmly in place, fire crackling at your fingertips, your breath steady but sharp in the cold night air. Todo and Miwa joined your side quickly, and Utahime offered you a firm nod from the sidelines. She was entrusting you with her students.

Quickly, the courtyard became a battlefield, filled with the crackle of burning energy and the hum of raw power.

The curse lunged, zipping through the air. You were faster, your body twisting and moving with fluid grace. You raised your hand to strike, a jet of flame bursting forward, crackling against the air. The curse shrieked as the fire seared its back, black smoke rising from its melted skin.

It recovered too quickly for your liking. It rolled through the flames like water through a sieve, reforming and lunging again, its claws gleaming.

Your senses were on fire—every shift in the air, every sound, every movement was magnified. You could hear the heartbeat of the curse, the faintest tremor of its form as it coiled to strike. You could smell the thick, sour scent of decay that clung to it like an ancient smog. And you could feel it—the deep, heavy weight of power pressing down on you, making your muscles tighten and strain against the oncoming attack.

The curse moved to strike again, but you were already there, rolling beneath it, body twisting in a perfect arc, and feet hitting the ground in a spring-loaded motion that sent you leaping upward. Your fist, wreathed in fire, crashed into the creature’s chest.

The explosion of heat sent the curse reeling, but it was only a momentary distraction. It retaliated, slashing the air with a massive, clawed hand. Three energized strikes were headed your way. You reacted with seconds to spare, but Miwa stood directly in the line of fire. You knew her simple domain wouldn’t be summoned fast enough, but she didn’t. It would be a miscalculation that ended her life.

The claws tore through your side, then whipped down in a sickening arc, ripping clean through your arm. The pain came in an instant—a blinding, searing agony that burned through your body. You didn't even have time to scream.

You staggered back, a cry escaping Miwa’s lips as she looked at the bloody stump where your arm used to be. Blood poured and squirted from the wound, but there was no time for that.

"Get back!" you shouted to the blue-haired girl, voice raw. She wasn’t nearly ready for this; Utahime gravity overestimated her abilities or underestimated the cursed strength. Regardless, the girl was too distraught to do anything at this moment.

There’s a rush, and you suddenly realize you are outside the heat of battle. Todo went in, guns blazing, but you could only waste so much time. Todo was strong, way above his current ranking, in your opinion, but it was only a matter of time before that curse cut him down, too.

Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused, drawing from the reserves settled deep within your core. Your energy surged, and tendrils of fire spiraled around the wound, filling the air with intense heat.

“Sensei! Are you alri–" Miwa gasped, her feet coming to a haunt as she watched in awe and terror as your arm began to regenerate—pulsing with energy. The flesh knitted itself together, bone and sinew reforming in a frenzy.

But the process wasn't easy and certainly didn’t come without a price to pay. Your body screamed, the regeneration draining your reserves. You were already weakened, and the battle had just begun. Tsk.

Todo found his way back over to you two, panting heavily. “How are you doing over there, Sensei?”

"Clap," you say, voice strained. "Now." He looked at you, bug-eyed, but he nodded. He didn't hesitate.

He brought his hands together in a sharp clap, and everything shifted. “Alright! Let’s dance!”

In an instant, you found yourself on the other side of the curse. You inhaled deeply, heart pounding, immediately launching yourself back into the fight.

The curse roared in confusion, disoriented, but it was too late. You were already in motion. Your feet hit the ground in a fluid motion, and with a vicious snap of your wrist, fire erupted once again. This time, it formed into a massive whip of flame that lashed through the air.

The curse hissed as the whip wrapped around its neck, and you pulled with your whole body. Never losing your grip, muscles straining, you move forward, wrapping the flames over your arm again and again, pulling tighter and tighter until you smelt the pungent odor of the burning flesh around its neck. You wrapped the whip around your arm one last time before turning your body and pulling the whip from over your shoulder, viscously yanking and slamming the curse to the ground and into submission.

The curse struggled, its body writhing, but it was weakened. Miwa went for the opening, summoning her New Shadow Style: Simple domain. She’s gotten better since the tournament, and you acknowledge with a grave chuckle as she instantly draws her blade, slicing the curse directly across its chest cavity. She cost you an arm, but deep down, you knew she had the conviction to win and succeed.

Todo doesn’t wait. Another clap. Another shift. You and Todo swapped places with the curse itself this time, and the curse had no time to react. He goes for a punch, cracking the curse with a quick jab, followed by a right hook. He claps again. The moment the curse materialized in front of you, disoriented, you surged forward, throwing everything you had left into one final strike.

It twisted in anguish, its body crumbling to the ground before its remains turned into ash.

Then, there was nothing.

The air grew still. The ground beneath you is scorched but calm. You sucked your teeth, silently berating yourself.

You hated using your technique. Frankly, you opted not to unless you absolutely needed to, which was the main reason why people hardly knew about it. It wreaked havoc, leaving nothing but indomitable infernos that refused to be quenched like normal flames. They left nothing destruction in their wake—hungry to consume and spread. However, you’ve gotten better at controlling it—you’ll give yourself that. The only thing burned here today was the grass in the courtyard.

You stood there for a moment, panting, your body trembling with exhaustion as you collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. “Y–you did it!” Miwa cheered. “I had no idea you knew RCT. Thank you for helping me back there.”

“What the– Miwa, we won! Show some conviction!” Todo cut in, flexing his biceps.

“He’s right,” you managed a weak smile as you worked on catching your breath and easing your fast-beating heart. You collapse to the ground, still gaining your breath. "We did it."

You hear footsteps approaching from behind. Tilting your head, you see Utahime standing directly above you.

“Oh. Hi ‘hime.”

She smiles a bit, but her face remains hardened. You straighten up a bit, catching on to her attitude. Something wasn’t right.

“You guys did a good job. However, another problem has arisen across the city.”

“Huh? Another one?” Miwa asked, brows tugging inward. She shifts her weight from one hip to the other. “That's like the fifth one today...”

They continue on in their conversation as you drop your veil, sniff the air, and concentrate on your surroundings. A sense of foreboding strikes you under the dark ambiance of the sky. Even after killing that S-grade, things don’t feel right.

“Thanks for joining us,” Utahime says, drawing back your attention. “I nearly had to call for backup.”

You scoff, glancing up at her from the ground. “Something doesn't feel right, Utahime.” She nods, agreeing with your observation. “When did the reports come flooding in?”

“About an hour ago now.”

“Hm,” you wonder, thinking back to when you first found the cursed womb. “That’s about the same time I first sensed the presence of the cursed womb. They’re most likely connected.”

“That's what I thought. The presence of the cursed womb must have irritated some of the curses in the city, most likely because they were drawn to the energy fluctuations the cursed womb caused. It's good you were here. We're stretched thin right now. If you don’t mind staying, we could use your help. The other students are out on missions across the city, and things just keep getting worse.”

You smile up at her before pushing yourself back up on your two feet, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Sure, let’s get going–” but as you stand, it feels as if a bolt of lightning strikes you down or as if your chest has been cracked open by a sledgehammer. The agony was too great to even scream as you fell to your knees and crashed back into the ground.

It was lights out.

It was quiet. Dark—a vast, unending expanse of nothingness that swallowed you whole. An endless drift. It would have almost been peaceful if not for the faint pull at the edges of your awareness, like an anchor trying to tether to something you couldn’t see.

But then came the first sound.

You heard voices—muffled cries. Please wake up, said one voice. Please stay with me, came another.

Pain began to throb somewhere in the background, dull and distant. Disembodied as if it belonged to someone else.

Don’t you dare leave me. The voice was sharp, demanding, cracking under the weight of fear. You knew that voice and remembered all the sweet things it used to whisper to you. Your heart takes a painful lurch. You can hear its occasional beat in your ears. We need you. I need you.

Oddly, you were cold.

You were drifting again, further and further. The anchor was slipping. You were sinking, your head hardly above water, when another muffled voice broke through—whimpering, sobbing. Your heart lurches painfully.

Mom, please don’t go.

The words pierce through the nothingness, shattering it all to bits and pieces. The words pull at you, a lifeline you hadn’t known you clung to and needed. Images begin to flash, and suddenly, the voices are no longer just voices. Your heart suddenly burns as though the memory of life itself is fighting its way back into you.

Your eyelids were heavy, limbs weak, unresponsive—cold. You were so cold, but it wasn’t enough to stop you from crawling out of a black pit that threatened to swallow you whole. There’s a faint sensation of pressure, a hand tightly gripping yours.

Light begins bleeding into the edges of your awareness. You sucked in a deep breath, lungs empty and greedy.

Then, your eyes fluttered open.

You blinked a few times, realizing how hard it was to breathe. Breathing was supposed to be an automatic response, but you had to force it, each breath dragging along the back of your throat like sandpaper. You’re weak and shivering as you use most of your energy to sit up. You were in an empty room, you realized—the sharp smell of sanitizer permeating your nose.

You push yourself out of bed, knees buckling under your weight. You catch yourself, gathering whatever bits of strength you have left. Your teeth clattered. You were freezing. Shaking, you wrapped the white blanket over your shoulders, gripping it tight before you trudged towards the door.

The hall was mostly empty, all except for a sleeping boy slouched over in a chair beside your door. Your heart squeezes.

“Megumi,” you whispered his name. You stare at him for a moment, unable to bite back the tears that nip at your dry eyes.

You wrapped the blanket around him, tucking it gently around him. However, he flinches, jumping straight up in his chair. “S-Sorry,” you tell him quickly with a watery smile. “You looked cold.”

“You…” the word was a raw and weak whisper. His eyes widened. It took a moment for recognition to settle in, but once it did, he spoke again. “You’re awake.” He stood up from his chair, and you stepped back, offering him space. “You’re awake,” he repeated again.

Then, you start to wonder just how long you’ve been out of it. Days? Weeks? The thought of months terrifies you, but before you can even go down that loophole, he’s hugging you tightly. “You’re awake,” he says once more, his voice breaking.

However long it was, he’s right. You’re awake. You’re here, living and breathing. You wrap your arms around his torso, patting and rubbing his back soothingly. “Yup… I’m here. I’m awake.”

You let him be the one to pull away, letting him take however long he needs. You enjoyed it regardless. You couldn’t remember the last time you hugged him.

When he pulls away, his eyes are red. He sniffs a bit, backing up and taking the blanket off his shoulders. This time, he’s the one wrapping the fabric around you. He’s frowning a bit as he does. “... you’re the one that’s cold,” he notes quietly.

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He asks softly, brows furrowing.

You shook your head. No. Frankly, you didn’t remember much of anything right now. “I was on my way with Yuji and Nobara. We got on the train after you let me know where you were staying.” That’s right. You texted Megumi when you figured out where you’d be staying. You thought they’d come over sometime in the following days. You had no idea they were rushing to see you on the next available train.

He places his hands awkwardly on your shoulder before gently guiding you to the chair he was sitting in moments ago. As you go to sit, your body seems to forget how to move for a moment, and you lose your balance. He catches you quickly, carefully helping you down into the chair. “When we got to Kyoto, we realized quickly how bad things were over there. We started helping out at the Kyoto school, dealing with the curses that had been lingering in the area where the cursed womb opened up. Eventually, we ran into Todo and Miwa. They told us what happened.” He grunts, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you.

You’re silent for a moment. “How long was I out for?”

“Pushing four days now.”

The memories strike you like a fright train. “Are you okay? Is everyone alright?” You hadn’t realized you had reached for his cheek.

He grabs your wrist, thumb gently caressing the back of your hand before pulling your hand away, guiding it back to your lap. He moves the blanket until it's covering you again. “We’re all fine. Everything’s been dealt with. Yuji and Nobara went down to the cafe to grab some lunch. They’ll be thrilled when they come back.”

You tilt your head. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

He smiles a bit. “I didn’t want to leave you unattended.”

You don’t know what to think. You’re just happy you’re back. Happy because he was happy. You always hated it when he worried about you. You never believed it was his job to do so. However, he stayed by your side and protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself.

You wiggle your toes and roll your shoulders before standing again. “You shouldn’t be standing–”

“I’m alright, I promise,” you tell him, dismissing his concern. “I just want to walk around, okay?”

He stares at you intently, unsure, but he seems to have no energy to argue with you. “... alright,” he relents.

He follows you closely as you drag your feet across the floor. You don’t know where you are walking, but you want to stretch your legs and regain a sense of your body. You are weak, but you need to move.

You ask the question you were too hesitant to ask: “What about Gojo?”

He huffs. “He left a little while ago. Said he’d be back shortly,” he scoffs. “Bullshit if you ask me.”

“Megumi,” you sigh his name with a soft reprimand.

“He should be here,” he responds disgruntledly. “He should be by your side, and he’s not."

You stay quiet. You’re not exactly sure what to say to him when you agree. Maybe Gojo was done. Whatever this was, whatever relationship you had—maybe he didn’t want you anymore. You look ahead, fighting your own body that threatened to collapse at any moment. You could feel Megumi’s eyes on you, but you didn’t have the heart to look at him right now.

You were afraid you would sob if you did.

Though you had never walked these halls before, the hospital's layout was quite easy to catch on to. After taking a fourth right turn, you see your room in the distance. A stubborn part of you says to keep going and keep walking, but the exhaustion is catching up to you quickly. If Megumi hadn’t been by your side, cautious eyes scanning you, you might have kept going until you passed out. You realize that the strength you had was nearly depleted. Only trickles of your cursed energy remained, and it would be a long while before you gained it back.

You hear footsteps behind you. Quick and ushered. Megumi turns before you, his whole frame tensing. He sucks his teeth and clicks his tongue. “So he finally shows up.” He speaks in a sardonic tone, loud enough for anyone in the hallways to hear.

Satoru comes running from around the corner then, taking deep breaths. Your brows slightly pinch together in confusion. “S–Satoru,” you stutter, walking closer. “When did you get here?” He looks disheveled. Alarmed. Was he just running?

It was hard trying to figure out what he was feeling or experiencing when that black eyeband covered his eyes. However, you noticed the bouquet in his hands, a delicate combination of soft and tender hues: pale pink and roses, white peonies, deep pink lilies, and baby’s breath delicately wrapped along sprigs of greenery.

You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat with the others?”

“But–”

“I’ll be alright,” you explain to him in a soft tone.

He hesitates, torn between staying and leaving. He was unsure if he should leave you to handle this alone, but after a moment, he backed down, probably realizing he shouldn’t stand between the two of you and what needed to happen. With an irate glance shot at Gojo, he turns, pocketing his hands as he makes his way to the stairs.

Only when the door shuts do you look at Satoru again.

He stays unusually quiet, his face unreadable. Frankly, it was rather unsettling. You had no idea what was going through his mind. “I–I’m sorry!” you blurt out the first words that crash to the surface of your mind the moment you see him in his entirety. There was no hope of holding back. After days spent away from him, lost in his absence, and days dancing on the edge of death, the words tumble out of you before you can stop them—unbidden, unstoppable. “For everything. Y–You must have been stressed with work and other things. My fuck up only added to your plate. I get it, ya know? It's selfish of me, even now, to rely on you so much when there’s a whole world that needs you. They are not my students, and I put them in danger.” Quickly, the tears gather in your waterline again, but you blink them away. “I–I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll get out of your way, and you won’t have to deal with me bothering you any longer–”

“Can I touch you?” The question comes suddenly, softly, and almost hesitantly.

You blink a few times, puzzled, but then, you unravel, folding inward under the weight of his voice. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he still holding onto what you had said that night? Was he haunted by the barriers broken and the others so carelessly assembled?

He still wanted you?

You didn’t want him to let you go. Not yet. Not ever.

Like a dam breaking, you surged forward, closing the space between you two. Seconds later, you feel his resolve crumble. He crushes you to his chest, flowers falling to the floor. His arms enveloped you with a force that robbed you of breath, your feet nearly coming off the ground as you both stumble backward. Trembling, he clung to you as if you were an anchor in a world that threatened to tear him apart. There were no words—the unspoken agony and grief were far too overwhelming to put into words—if there even were words for it.

I’m sorry. I love you. I’m glad you’re okay. You felt it all with him. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, hear its frantic rhythm match your own.

His hands were shaking, one tangling in your hair, the other wrapping entirely around your frame and squeezing your hip. He buries his face into your neck, and his hot breath is ragged and uneven as he inhales your scent. “I thought–” he swallows, shaking his head. “I didn’t know where you were—for a second time.”

Your cursed energy was low, more depleted than it had ever been. It explains why you were so weak, so frail. When he saw your empty bed, he must’ve panicked. He ran to you, anxiously following the weak traces of your presence.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and the familiar silk of his eyeband rubs against your skin. You gently tug at the fabric with the tips of your fingers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he stills as you slip the black band from his face. He lifts his head just enough to rest it against yours. They were that same stunning shade of azure—bright and impossibly vivid, glowing softly as if they carried the remnants of a forgotten star. Captivating, otherworldly, yet achingly human—something he’d often forget from time to time.

“You promised,” he murmurs, voice broken. “You promised.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask just as brokenly.

Suddenly, one of his hands grasps your neck, and you choke on your words. He doesn’t squeeze tight, but the look on his face is enough to make you gasp. “I couldn’t feel you. I couldn’t feel you anymore,” he says achingly.

Your chest tightens, nails slightly digging into his forearm. You open your mouth to speak, failing more times than succeeding. You wanted to speak, but the words lodged in your mouth.

“I–I don’t understand.”

“You’re not wearing it anymore,” he murmurs, his nose brushing softly against your cheek. The necklace you always wore—his gift to you, the one that held a part of him, a part of the two of you—was gone. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, an absence that gnawed at him like hunger, an emptiness he could never satisfy.

His voice wasn’t angry, far from it. It wasn’t even harsh, but something in it—a quiet desperation—made the air between the two of you quiver.

“You promised you’d never go where I couldn’t follow,” he whispers again. “Remember?”

You nod in his hold, tightly pursing your lips together when a few tears escape, dripping from your eyes. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours again, gazing deep and unwavering into your eyes. I remember. His grip on your neck loosens until he removes his hand from your throat completely, gentle fingers pushing down your shirt's fabric. His fingers trace your skin, the empty spot where your necklace once laid.

Then, it suddenly hits you. “Oh.”

He could feel you as much as you felt him. If you were ever too far from him—out of the range of his sight, out from where his hands could reach for you, that necklace was a beacon, a beckoning, a lighthouse in the storm that guided you home—guided him home.

You squeeze him tighter. You missed him. You really missed him.

“How did you find me?”

He takes a moment to breathe, trying to settle the rapid beat of his heart. “Utahime.” He wheezes out a pained laugh. “She called me panicking once you collapsed. I got there as quickly as I could.”

You copy his laugh, albeit coughing a bit from the pain blooming in your ribs. You hated to admit it, but the longer you stood, the more your body began to hurt. “I should just heal myself and get this over with.”

“Don’t,” his grip tightens on you again. “you’re using it wrong. There’s damage, lots of it,” he tells you, wiping at the blood that had stained your skin at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Any more and–” his eyebrows furrowed deeply, the weight of grief and guilt tugging his features. The corner of his lips tightened. “Shoko operated on you for hours. You nearly died.”

He sees what others cannot, his gaze piercing the surface to something deeper, something raw. He sees the world through an entirely different lens, and right now, the sight of you seems to pain him dearly.

For a moment, you wonder just how much damage is hidden within you and how much it must weigh on him to see it. “Shoko might have gotten you out of the woods, but she told me you’d need a few more rounds to get you back to normal.”

“That makes sense,” you murmur, allowing your entire body weight to ease into him. He accepts you with open arms. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or twenty.”

“I missed it,” he utters, voice thick with regret. “If I had just looked a bit closer, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I fucked up. I could’ve prevented this.” His careful grip on you tightens as if you’d slip away from him once more. “But,” his tone softens. “You did so well. You took care of that cursed womb before I could even get to the scene.” Even through his pain and wallowing, his heart swells. He was proud of you.

He bends down, grabbing the flowers he dropped before moving towards you again. “Oh gosh,” you hide your face into his neck as he reaches down, one arm hooking under your legs as he lifts you. You don’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m definitely fired, aren’t I?”

He carefully guides you back into your room. He manages to toss your flowers on the counter by the window. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll handle it. ‘Kay?” He places you down on your bed, but he hesitates, not wanting to fully pull away.

Your eyes flicker, recalling the night of your augment. You knew this was the reason behind his haunted expression. You recognized the torment because you, too, had felt it. “You’re mad,” he observes relatively quickly.

You didn’t want to bring it up. You weren't necessarily mad, not anymore, but even near death couldn’t make you forget the pain he had caused with words he so carelessly struck you down with.

“What you said… Hurt me, Gojo,” you look down at your hands, feeling selfish for even bringing this up after nearly dying. However, you knew this conversation was inevitable. “Even if you were right I felt cast aside. Useless. Why didn't you tell me you felt that way before?”

“No… don’t say that. I was being stupid. I over reacted. I know you'd always protect those kids and that's exactly what you did. You’re not weak or a nuisance, or... convenient.” you flinch at the word. “You’re far from that. I need you to know that.”

“...Then what am I?”

“Everything,” he shudders. “You’re everything.” His lips brush over your forehead, your cheeks, and eyelids, each kiss tender and lingering. But then he pauses, his smooth lips hovering just above yours. He’s always been so confident, so self-assured. You’re unsure how to react.

You were sitting on your bed, feet dangling just above the floor. He is leaning over you, one large and warm hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face gently. He was close, but not close enough. Even bent at the waist, his height keeps him just out of your reach unless he leans back down just a bit more…

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, giving him all the assurance you have to offer.

You were hurt, but you still wanted him.

You still loved him.

His mouth was warm and soft—testing the waters and treading carefully. His grip on your thigh tightens until–

He lets go. You feel the tension in his body dissipate, and finally, he allows himself to fully enjoy you—taste you. The kiss deepens, and you swear it brought life back into your frail body. He overwhelms you now in the most delicious way possible. Your toes curl, and your tight embrace eases. Your arms go weak, your hands moving to run down his chest, his taut muscles quivering in the wake of your touch. Every moment was a promise, every brush of skin a new vow. No words were spoken, but you both heard everything that had been held back, everything that had been left unsaid.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

He smiles against your lips, but you don’t stop or pull away, catching and nipping at his bottom lip. Then, you kiss him again, slotting his top lip between yours. “You really love me, huh? Hehe.”

Oh. You hadn’t realized you said it—whimpered murmurs against his lips. No wonder why he looked all dopey and smiley.

“You’re not going to make me grovel for forgiveness?” He pecks your lips again. “This seems too easy. I know you’re still mad.”

You chase after his lips. “Of course, I’m still mad,” you mutter against him. “But I thought I would never see you again.” Even as he frowns, you pepper his lips with kisses. “Plus, it's not like you to grovel.”

“I would for. Only for you, of course.”

You giggle, nipping his lip a little harder. “Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d like to see that.”

Oh no. You’ve made a grave mistake. You knew you messed up again the second the words fell from your lips. There’s a glint in his eyes now.

“Oh, my beautiful, angelic Queen! I know I have displeased you. Please accept my humble apologies!” You squeak at the suddenness of his actions. He sinks to his knees dramatically, and his palms meet the dirty floor, and so does his forehead. “I am at your mercy! I have failed you greatly, and I wish to make amends.”

You swat him on the back of his head, but it's not nearly enough to hurt him or deter him from whatever this is. “Gojo! Don’t bow like that! Get up!”

“But I can’t!” He whines. “You must forgive me! I will spend eternity on my knees if it means I can regain your favor, my perfect, beautiful, divine Queen. You alone rule this sinners heart!” He inches forward on his knees, squeezing himself between your legs. His hands find homage on your waist as he nudges his face into your stomach.

Your eyes roll skyward. “Only you could apologize and insult me at the same time, Satoru,” you grumble, looking down at him before running your fingers through white stands.

Suddenly, he looks up from this position, resting his chin right beneath your ribs, grinning ear to ear. “You called me Satoru~”

You feel your face flush, heat gushing to your cheeks and ears. “Shut up. You’re such an idiot. Can you get up now?”

“Nah,” he says lazily, burying his head into your stomach again. His voice comes out muffled. “I’m trying to make amends with my Queen. Let me, will ya?”

You ease, realizing you won't be able to stop him from doing what he wants. Even if it was a bit theatrical, he was doing his best—you know that because you know him. You let your nails gently graze his scalp as you continued to pat him. He hums, almost purrs, as your other hand finds his shoulder, squeezing him gently before running your fingers under his shirt, caressing his skull and the taut muscles in his back. A beat of silence passes, but you find yourself uncaring.

You had him back in your arms. That’s all that really mattered to you right now.

“Look, I know… I know I messed up,” he begins, voice so low, you nearly miss it. “I’m not great at this—saying the right things. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was stressed. I was fed up with the higher-ups and fed up with my missions, but that’s no excuse. If I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat. You deserve better than what I was giving you. I’m gonna try to be better… for you. For us.” His words hang in the air a bit awkwardly, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It couldn’t be missed. He shifts a bit, moving to kiss your belly. Then, his large hand wrap around yours, guiding your hand closer to his lips. He kisses the back of your knuckles tenderly as if the act of his apology could never be enough.

“You want me to stay?”

He squeezes you tighter. “Of course I do. What would I be without you?”

“Hm. You’d still be Gojo Satoru. Even without me.”

“I don’t want to imagine a life without you,” he mutters. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow. I've already told you that…”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper sweetly, patting his head. He nudges his head further into you. “The world will always need you.”

“I will always need you. So please… stop talking like this.” He pinches your side, making you squeak. Finally he looks up, an unimpressed expression gracing his features. “And don’t ever leave the city to get away from me. When you told me you were going to a hotel, I thought you meant in Tokyo.”

You chuckle nervously, looking elsewhere. “Yeah… Sorry about that.”

“Next time, take a walk or something. I dunno, go touch some grass if you get tired of me.”

A small smile escaped you, followed by a quiet laugh that shook your shoulders. You pat his back three times before kneading him softly. “Okay, humble peasant. You've groveled for long enough. Now lay with me,” you demand him. “I want you to lay with me. I’m so tired.”

“Psh. I’d hardly fit on this bed.”

“Whatever,” you tell him, scooting over. “I’ll make room. Get in, string bean.”

He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

It’s a bit awkward at first with his lanky form, but he makes it work. It was a tight fit, and his feet slightly dangled off the bed, but he made no objections. With your back to his chest, he held you against him securely.

“You’re cold,” he observes out loud when you start playing with his fingers. It’s a bitter realization, a deafening one on his part. You know it bothers him, especially as he wraps the blanket around you tighter.

He tries not to let it show. However, he quickly becomes restless and you know he isn’t sated. He begins to move. “Let me go get you another blanket.”

“Nooo. Stay here.”

“Huh? But you’re freezing! And you’re never cold!”

“I’m already warming up!” You intervene with a small giggle, tugging him by his jacket. “Just shut up and lay with me, already.” He hesitates before unbuttoning his black jacket. When he was determined, there wasn’t any stopping a man like him, and right now, he was determined to get you warm.

He lays his jacket over you, spreading the fabric out, smoothing away all the wrinkles, and making sure you're covered. It might as well be a blanket with how long it was over you. Bonus points because it still carried him warmth and smelled like his cologne. A blend of earth and wood with a hint of something darker—smokey and smooth. You always loved the scent. Whenever he walked by, it brushed past you like a gentle breeze over still water, warm and inviting, with subtle notes of leather, musk, and vanilla.

He grunts a bit before easing into the bed again. “My little icicle- ow,” you shot your elbow back, getting him right in the ribs. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He chuckles, before wrapping his arms over you one more. He brushes your hair from your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. He kisses you there once, twice, three times before saying something familiar.

“I could sense when you left Tokyo. I didn’t know what to do. Even with my eyes, I couldn’t find you. You were just gone. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow." He kisses your neck. "Please.”

You turn around, searching for his lips. He melts into you once again, squeezing your side sweetly. “I promise,” you murmur. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” you say, voicing back the same promise he made you. He smiles faintly against your lips.

When you woke up the next morning, your necklace was there. It was back where it belonged, sapphires resting gently over your steady beating heart—carrying Satoru’s silent promise.

Wherever you go, that’s where I follow.

a/n: I honestly don't know how I feel about this but if you made it to the end I hope the nearly 18k was worth reading. If you couldn't tell its based off the song Die With A Smile. Honestly, I think I might have been happier by making this a bit longer and flushing out some of the scenes more, but I was trying new things and I was excited to post my first jjk post :) however its getting late now but if there's any typos or errors I notice later I'll edit as needed.

anyways, if you'd like to see more gojo x sorcerer!reader let me know! also I really hoped you liked the bits I added with Megumi (he's just a smol bean).

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! :p

#milawritess #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #fanfic #satoru gojo x reader #angst #jjk x you #happy ending #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fanfic

3K notes · View notes

nayeoniiz · 1 month ago

Text

WEBCAM PERV! (1)

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

genre ❥ smut

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

Webcam Perv! (2)

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in.

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell.

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough.

but to heeseung, it was everything. to him, everything about her was intoxicating, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more.

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

Webcam Perv! (2)

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x you #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung scenarios #enhypen heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #heeseung x female reader

1K notes · View notes

strawberrypoundtown · 9 months ago

Note

Alright, hear me out I am thinking... Werebear. I just can't get my mind off of the idea of a werebear with his little round ears and fuzzy tail who gets disturbed while trying to hibernate (Which he's admittedly not very good at)

That's it, take it and run girly~

(OH it's just a quick one shot- sike, this was a lot longer than I planned and I had to cut some of it for another time lol I should have made it two parts, but whatevs

Enjoy the show - Strawberry 🍓)

Dummies Guide To Hibernation

Clayton Briggs x Fem!Reader

You move into a new apartment complex and notice your next-door neighbor being a lot more secluded and withdrawn lately as the winter creeps in. One late night, as you're walking through the hall to your door, you notice the door to his apartment is wide open...

Contains: unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, light free use kink (?)

You had moved into this apartment complex just shy of 3 months ago. You were still getting your bearings, having not lived completely alone before. You always had roommates or family living with you, so finally being completely alone was strange. Your apartment complex wasn't very big. There were only two other apartments on your side of the hall, yours sandwiched between the two.

The older werewolf woman that lived on your right seemed to be pretty calm and quiet, albeit a bit paranoid. She looked to be about 40-50 years old, but could have been older. You hadn't seen her leave the complex property before, so you just chalked it up to her being a bit of a recluse. You occasionally grab her mail for her when she asks, and she's always grateful, giving you a handful of candy before sending you on your way.

The man that lived on your left was a very different story. You two had met late at night when he offered to help you move a very large chair that you had bought a few days after you moved in. You were struggling to get it into the elevator after regretting that you had ordered the orc size for the chair and not werewolf of something. Damn you and your enjoyment of large furniture.

A large, burly man with a bushy brown beard had appeared behind you during your struggle. His curly golden brown hair was short and messy. He seemed to be around a staggering 7'3" tall, easily towering over you. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, steel-toe workboots, and a reflective vest that people used on construction sites. Of course, you assumed that he just got off of work and was getting impatient with you hogging the only elevator. You were about to apologize for being in his way and try to get the chair out of the way when he put his massive hand on your forehead, gently moving you out of the way. With a faint grunt, he easily moves the chair into the elevator. He stands in the elevator with the chair next to him and enough space for you to stand next to him. He holds the elevator door open for you as he stares at you. He notices you hesitating and looks away from you, his dirt covered cheeks turning a bit red as he looked away from you. He was still waiting for you.

"O-oh. Thank you." You said softly with a smile as you looked up at him and stepped into the elevator. You clicked the button for your floor, and he nodded in response as he moved his arm, letting the door close. "You must be one of my neighbors. I just moved in about a week ago. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He let out another grunt as he nodded once again, only glancing at your occasionally as he avoided touching you in the cramped elevator. Saying he was a large man as an understatement. You had to strain your neck to look up at him, but looking at eye level or lower was even worse. He was built like a truck with a nice layer of chubbiness. He seemed so soft, so nice to hug. You just wanted him to pick you up and hold you. It was hard to focus on anything but him as his chest was only inches away from your face. You could tell that he had a very strong build, and you love a large dad bod. He was covered in dirt and sweat, but his scent was still a bit too nice for your comfort.

As the elevator doors opened, you found yourself trying to scramble out the door and out of the way as quickly as possible. You had let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm your racing heart as he lifted the chair out of the elevator with ease. He immediately started walking towards your door.

You quickly got out your keys and jogged down the hall to open your door. He moved quickly, so he was already at your door by the time you got there. Once your door was open, you led him inside your cozy apartment and towards your livingroom. As he stepped inside, he was surprised at the decore you already had up. Pictures and posters and a few fake plants with fairy lights pinned to the ceiling.

After he put down the chair where you told him to, he noticed the rest of your furniture. It was all fairly large, at least the size for most werewolves, but all covered in pillows and blankets to make it cozy. He felt like just looking at your apartment would make him fall asleep. He needed to leave. Your heart sank a bit, following him as he immediately turned to walk towards the front door.

"Thank you for your help! I don't know what I would have done if you didn't help me. I'm sorry I bothered you on your way home-" You say, but he cuts you off by holding out his hand to you to shake. You take it gently, and he begins to speak.

"Don't worry about it. If you ever need help with anything, I live next door on your left. Apartment 400. I'm pretty handy." He says softly as he looks down at you with a blank expression. His voice was deep and intimidating, but it made you feel safe and warm. His hand was big and rough, but he held your soft hand so gently, like he was worried about hurting you.

"Oh, thank you. I really appreciate that. Um... could I get your name? My name is (Y/n)." You say with a smile, staring up at him as your other hand comes up to rest on top of his. His cheeks turn a bit red once again as he stares at your hands for a moment before looking back into your eyes.

"I-I'm Clayton..." He says shyly before pulling his hand away and taking a step back. "It was nice to meet you (Y/n). I need to go." He said bluntly, his eyes avoiding yours as he rushed off to his apartment door. For such a large man, he sure was quick. You didn't even have a chance to say anything before you heard his door slam shut. You worried you angered him, but based on his pink cheeks, you assumed that he was just shy.

Over the next month, you would start conversations with him whenever you would see him. He would always stand and listen until you were done talking. Occasionally, you would mention that you were trying to do something in your apartment and would ask what kind of tools you would need. He would tell you, seemingly happy that he could give you advice. However, he never seemed to let you take his advice, because before you could even get the tools you needed, he would be over with his toolbox ready to go.

Need a shelf put up? He did it. Need your sink unclogged? No problem. He got it cleared. Need your lock replaced because your ex found out where you lived? He replaced your entire door and got you a doorbell camera.

He never accepted any money from you, always saying he just wanted to be a good neighbor and make sure you were safe. He did, however, accept food. You always made him a big plate of whatever you were eating that night. He always seemed to enjoy it after he got home, the plates returning to your front door completely clean the next morning.

However, as the fall passed and the winter started, you saw Clayton less and less. Whenever you would see him, he'd look absolutely exhausted, and you had noticed him getting thinner. He also started to occasionally walk around with his cute stubby tail and round ears out due to how little energy he had. You had found out from your other neighbor that Clayton was a werebear, so the winter season made him exhausted all the time. You felt bad for asking for so much of his time while he should have been preparing for hibernation, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he was eating enough.

Every day, you brought a container of food over to his door and left it in front of his door. You would leave a note on the container before knocking and running off so you didn't bother him further. The clean, empty containers would show up in front of your door the next day with a note that just said 'thank you'.

What you didn't know was how much it actually meant to him that you had been helping him in return. He had always struggled with his hibernation, having been raised by a pack of werewolves after his parents adopted him. They did their best, but he was never really taught how to hibernate properly. It didn't help that he had insomnia, which was very inconvenient for the big guy when it came to his hibernation time. Thankfully, during the winter, his construction jobs slowed down a bit, but it still took a lot out of him. Cooking himself dinner at the end of a long day was out of the question, so he usually got take out or nothing at all.

Imagine his surprise when he started getting food dropped off at his door every night. He loved your food. Everything you made was delicious, and he always licked his plate clean. You were so sweet with how you helped take care of him. The smell of the fantastic food you cooked flooding the hallway was amazing, but your scent had him even more entranced.

Ever since you had moved next door, just your scent from the hallway was enough to comfort him. He had already thought you were cute when you moved in, but as time went on, he fell for you even harder. Your more domestic side showing lately had been the killer for him, though. You would check in on him and give him food, a reassuring touch, like the angel you were. He wanted to help take care of you like you took care of him. He wanted you. He needed you. He always had such a hard time leaving your apartment because of how cozy it was. The moment he would walk in, he would feel like he could pass out on the floor and still be comfortable. He wished he could sleep in your orc sized bed with you and show you how much he cares about you.

He would listen unintentionally as you would take a shower or get ready for bed. The walls were so thin, and with his hearing as good as it was, it was impossible for him to ignore your whimpers from the other side of the wall whenever you'd be masturbating. Whenever he had gone in to help you put up a shelf in your bedroom, he could smell the arousal in the air from when you had given yourself an orgasm shortly before he arrived. He struggled to hide his erection the whole time. Just imagining what you did to yourself when you were alone made his dick throb in his jeans. Being able to smell that you were ovulating didn't help.

He knew what everything meant. You were his mate. He just had no idea how to tell you without sounding completely insane. You were just a human. A very soft, sweet human that surely only had the best intentions whenever they would interact. If only he knew how further he was from the truth. You had wanted him just as badly, if not more, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He just seemed shy to you, and you didn't want to scare him off. For such a big guy like him, you had hoped food would win him over. Every time you had him over to help fix something you didn't understand, you would fantasize about him driving his cock into you and letting out all his pent-up frustrations. And cum.

Once you found out he was a werebear, you did some serious research. You learned about how he needed a cozy environment he could use as a 'den' and how much he needed to eat. Werebears didn't sleep 24 hours a day, but they needed at least 10-14 hours of sleep every night to function somewhat normally during the day. They tend to need to eat a lot to keep up a healthy layer of fat. They can also get very, very backed up if they don't have a mate to hibernate with as they typically don't socialize during this time. You didn't know what his apartment looked like, as he had never invited you over, but you wanted to make your home as inviting to him as possible for when he came over. Especially your bedroom.

You were happy you rented in a monster-friendly apartment building due to the fact that you had an orc sized bed from the last place you lived in. It was at least 9' long, and you were always swimming in it, so you always had it loaded with pillows and stuffed animals and soft blankets. You figured that if you got some extra large blankets for him to use, he would be more inclined to come over.

But lately, he was so tired he had let his ears and tail show, his arms and chest extra hairy as it peaked out of his clothing. He was trying to conserve energy, and you noticed him not snoring much at night when he should have been sleeping, but still going to work in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. You also noticed that as the next full moon approached, he was struggling more and more to hold it together. He was nearly falling asleep standing up and more shuffled than walked to his apartment. You started making more and more food for him to leave by his door for when he got home.

Tonight was a full moon, so you knew you had to make him a lot of food because he was going to fully tranform tonight. The containers had started coming back broken with apology notes and money attached, so tonight you had gotten some disposable containers. You made him a huge spread of various roasted vegetables and fish and put all the containers in front of his door, saying that if he needed to, he could crash at your place.

That leads you to this moment, you standing outside Clayton's door. You heard him stumble home about 20 minutes ago and growling for about 15 minutes until a loud thud hit the floor. It shook your apartment, and you instantly rushed over to see if he was okay. You noticed the door was cracked open and hesitantly pushed the door open. Your jaw dropped as you saw his living conditions. It was clean, but barely had any furniture to keep clean in the first place. All he had was a large futon in the livingroom and a TV with a gaming set up.

You hear groaning coming from what you assume to be the bedroom as you carefully creep in. You peer down the hallway to see a large furry mass in the dark. A mess of ripped apart food containers were scattered down the hallway to in front of the bed. You gingerly made your way down the hallway as you tried to get a better look at him. You could tell he was already fully transformed, and it almost sounded like he was... whining? As you got closer, you noticed that he was so big half his giant furry body was hanging off the bed. He was facing away from you, but you could hear him panting and whining as his nubby tail wiggled. He was a giant ball of fur and you slowly walked up to his face. His head was huge when he was transformed. He looked like an adorable grizzlybear, minus the giant sharp claws.

"C-clayton?" His eyes snap open at the sound of your voice. Your sweet, beautiful voice. "Are you okay?... I heard a loud thud, and your door was open..." You were so kind. He couldn't believe you actually walked in here to check on him. He didn't know what to do. He was embarrassed at how his place looked. He had been so tired lately he hadn't wanted to do anything special for his hibernation, but he was regretting it now.

He bashfully looks away from you and scoots his head closer to you. You crouch down and gently run your fingers through his fur. His fur was so soft you gently rest you head on top of his as she scratched the fur around his neck. He lets out an odd growl that almost sounds like a purr as he nuzzles into your chest. He inhales your comforting scent deeply. You smell so sweet... He had to carefully pull his face away from your chest before he tried to rip your tank top off. He had noticed you weren't wearing a bra and wanted to know what your breast looked like so badly. He caught himself staring at your chest before looking up at you with his beautiful golden eyes.

"C-can I crash with you? Please?... this is bad..." His voice was hoarse as he groaned. He regret pushing his body so much and ignoring his need for a proper den. He knew your place would be perfect based on what he had seen so far. Not only that, but he would be able to convince you to share your large bed with him. It had been so long since he could cuddle anyone during hibernation...

"Of course you can. I just need you to follow me." You said softly, and you went to stand up. He stood up with you, and you couldn't help but freeze for a moment as you took in his large form. He was nearly 9' tall, staring down at you as he breathed heavily. All he had on were some boxers that were way too small once he was transformed. You could see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric. He put one of his giant hands on your shoulder and sleepily followed you next door to your apartment, being sure to at least close his door before he leaves.

Upon stepping into your apartment, he has to use his hands on your wall to stabilize himself. Walking through the threshold of your home and being hit with a wall of your scent was overwhelming. He stumbled through your apartment as carefully as possible, trying not to knock anything over. You had to guide him to your bedroom, him ducking a bit through the doorways. As he saw your bed, he let out a sigh of relief. The mass of pillows and giant blankets looked so welcoming.

"I-I hope it'll be okay. At least better than your place..." You let out a soft giggle as you opened up the bed more for him to crawl in. He didn't waste another moment before carefully crawling onto your bed. The bed dipped under his immense weight. You thanked yourself for getting a reinforced bedframe when you got your giant bed.

"Oh fuck." He groaned out as he fully laid down, his body going limp as he finally felt his body fully relax for the first time in ages. Fully stretched out, he's just as tall as the bed, but all the pillows and blankets with the softness of the mattress are perfect. He feels like he's in heaven as he turns onto his side and closes his eyes. His breathing began to get heavier, and you assume he's already starting to fall asleep. You grab the biggest blanket you have from your couch and as you lay it over him, his eyes slowly open. He stares at you for a moment as your body is illuminated in the moonlight peering in from your window. He hadn't really gotten a good look at you yet, and it was a good thing that he didn't. He wouldn't have been able to make it over to your apartment if he noticed you were only wearing a tanktop and tight boxer shorts. He could already feel himself getting hard under the covers, your scent overwhelming as he let out a soft groan.

"Clayton? Are you okay?" You ask with a worried tone. Your caring eyes are so beautiful in the moonlight. In a flash, you were pulled under him while letting out a loud yelp. He was proped up on his elbow on his side next to you, his other hand on your hip as he leaned over you. He held your body so close to his, trying his best not to rip your clothes off of you immediately. He leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck so all he can smell is you. He was annoyed at how your scent was so comforting but wouldn't let him sleep. He was pent-up, and you were his mate that made a den just for him... he needed to do something or he felt like he was gonna explode.

He moved one of his knees in between yours as he stared into your eyes, running his hand from your hip to your thigh to guide it to hook over his leg. Goosebumps appear all over your body as you feel his sharp claws drag across your skin. As you were held there on your back, you could feel his hard cock against your thigh. Fuck you were turned on. You didn't know what to do but stare back into his glowing eyes and follow his lead. He leaned in close to your face, bearing his sharp teeth as he struggles to find his words.

"I really need your help tonight (Y/n)..." He mumbles as he moves from smelling your hair to burying his nose in your collarbone.

"Look, I'm flattered... v-very flattered, but I'm not really a fan of one night stands." You say nervously, knowing that you'd want way more than just one night with him. His large, rough tongue rakes up the side of your neck, making you let out an involuntary moan.

"Who said I wanted a one night stand?" His hot breath brushes against your neck, causing goosebumps to go down your body. "I want you.. All of you... Always." His teeth ran across the skin in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply. "If you want me, I'll stay... please..." He pleads with a deep growl. He sounds so desperate for you. You wouldn't have thought the stoic man next door would be reduced to a horny, cuddly mess, but here you are. "My mate..." He growls as he palms one of your breasts through your thin tank top, careful not to scratch you with his claws. The pressure of his body against yours is overwhelming in the best way, every touch lighting you on fire as you couldn't help but let out soft moans.

"P-please stay Clayton..." You begged as your self-control went out the window, grinding your hot mound against his leg. Your words and actions made him suck in a breath, pausing as he stared at you. He suddenly turned onto his back, pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist. He used his claws to rip a huge hole in your shorts, exposing your dripping wet pussy. You pulled your tanktop off quickly before he ripped that off while he ripped away his boxers. His massive cock sprang to life, smacking against your wet pussy lips softly. He pulled himself up to bring you in for a kiss, groaning as he

You bit your lip before grinding your cunt down along his dick. It was too dark for you to see properly, but his dick felt similar to a werewolf's dick, but much bigger. You hadn't taken someone that big before, so you were secretly happy that you were in the middle of masturbating when you heard him come home...

"Oh fuck." He strained his head back against the bed as he moaned. His hands reached up to hold your hips in place, rolling his hips back against you to get more friction against his sensitive cock. His hands were massive, both of them nearly completely encircling your waist as he held you in place. He fought against the urge to use you like a living fleshlight immediately. He felt like he was getting high off the scent of your arousal.

You brace your hands on his soft forearms as you find your footing by his sides. His waist is too big for you to straddle normally, but you don't care. You're gonna do your best. You were getting impatient, as he could feel from how his cock was completely drenched from your juices. He raises his head up to look at you, letting out soft whimpers as you pull your heat away from his needy dick. You earn a low growl from him as you decided to grab his cock and line his dripping tip up with your aching hole. His grip on your hips tightens, and you feel his claws threaten to break your soft skin. He applauded his self control in his crazed state, although every fiber of his being was telling him to just bury his cock deep inside you now. He needed you so badly.

You press yourself down on his dick, your arousal and his precum acting as lube. His cock slides into your pussy easier than he expected, but you're still struggling to take his size. His cock was so thick it stretched your pussy to the absolute limit and you were loving every second. You had only taken him about halfway, and yiu didn'tknow how much more you could take. You were trying to hold your moans as much as possible, but the attempt was futile. You groaned out in pleasure as the shape of his cock rubbed against your g-spot with every movement.

Clayton stared at you hungrily, growl in his throat that resonated through his whole body. You could swear you felt his dick vibrate, but then again, it might have been your walls fluttering to accommodate his size.

He suddenly snaps his hips up into yours, his hands on your hips keeping you in place as he buries his cock into you up to his knot. The drastic shock to your body made you scream out in pleasure. Your pussy stung as you felt the bulge at the base of his cock press against your pussy. You feel him shudder under you as you clenched your pussy around his length. You're given very little time to adjust before he starts moving your hips for you.

"F-fuck, I'm sorry... I can't control myself right now... you drive me fucking crazy... you're so fucking tight..." He growls as he watches your boobs bounce in front of him. He may have you on top, but he's the one in control. He holds your hips so firmly it may leave bruises, using your body as his personal sex toy. He is so desperate to cum, wanting nothing more than to fill you up and get you pregnant.

He wanted you to be the mom to his cubs. You were so sweet and kind. You could teach them how to make a den much better than he could. You felt so amazing stretched out on his dick. You were just so addicting.

Every movement he made you do made you feel just as crazy as him. His cock hit all the right places, your pussy quivering around him as you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Every slight curve and bend of his dick felt like heaven as he bounced you faster to chase his own release.

"I'm so close. I'm not pulling out. I want you to take my knot and have my cub..." He grunts, whimpering as you feel his dick twitch inside you. He's close, and so are you.

"Y-yes please! I want your cum in me, please! Make me cum!" You beg him, completely giving into the pleasure. You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close it almost hurt.

"Rub your clit for me, honey." He orders and you don't think twice before one of your hands finds your clit, your fingers working your sensitive clit while he works you. It only takes a few more seconds before you throw your head back, moaning like a bitch in heat as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. As you begin to cum, he snaps his hips up to meet yours, thrusting his huge knot into your already strained pussy. The rough action causes you to scream, squirting all over his crotch as your quivering pussy milked his cock. His dick throbbed inside you as he let out a roar, his claws scratching your hips while he came deeper than anyone had before. He filled your plugged up pussy so much your belly bulged slightly. You both struggle to catch your breath as his grip on you slowly relaxed. He couldn't help but stare at you and your beautiful body, your sweat shining in the moonlight through the window.

"I hope you're okay... I didn't hurt you, did I?" He groans out, a bit worried that in his haze he went too far. Your exhausted giggle eases him slightly.

"I'm more than okay..." You admit with a grin. Clayton chuckles in response as he feels his knot start to go down, letting him slip his cock out of you. You whimper and whine as he pulls his cock out, suddenly feeling every empty as his cum pours out of your used hole. He lets out a relieved sigh as he turns onto his side and pulls you close to him.

"I'm glad you're okay..." He whispers to you as he stares into your eyes with adoration mixed with exhaustion. You can't help but smile as his large body and thick fur make you feel like you have a living weighted blanket. His presence was just so comforting to you.

"I hope you don't mind hibernating with me." You say. He pulls you in close as he arranges the pillows and blankets around the two of you, using his arm as a pillow for you. He finally pulls the blanket over the two of you and wraps his other arm around you.

"Honey, I don't think I could have hibernated without you..." He says softly, ending in a yawn as you both settled in to get some sleep. As you two embraced each other, sweaty and satisfied, you couldn't stop thinking about how Clayton would be a really good dad. You secretly hope his seed already got you pregnant as you fell asleep cuddled into his chest. He took another good look at your gorgeous face before drifting off to sleep himself. Both of you were soon dreaming of your belly swollen with his cub and little kids running around.

He could get used to this.

#monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster x reader #monster imagine #monster smut #werebear #werebear bf

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allertonhoe · 1 month ago

Text

duking it out - rafe cameron (18+)

summary: when you almost get robbed after a night out, your best friend insists you learn some self-defence from her older brother, who happens to own a gym. you also can't stand each other, but what happens when the two of you are left to your own devices.

content warnings: original afab!reader, obx!universe, enemies to lovers, best friends brother, boxer!rafe, use of petnames (princess, baby), 18+ MDNI - smut, dom!rafe, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, unprotected p in v, minor use of restraint, mirror sex, reader hurts herself/blood tw, mentions of getting robbed/jumped (not by rafe lol), mentions of guns/pepper spray, angsty af

length: 4.2k words

"Will you at least promise me you'll consider it?"

"Sarah, no. I'm not-"

"You almost got mugged. It would give me some peace of mind." she disputes once again, looking at you wearily.

She wasn't exactly wrong. It was a few weeks back while you were walking through Figure 8 on your way home from another wild kegger on the beach. And in the early hours of the morning, the sun having barely risen, some masked Pogue took the opportunity to ambush you.

Luckily, you carried pepper spray on you for this specific reason, blasting it in the culprit's face and sprinting back to your place as fast as you could. But according to your best friend, you should be a bit more prepared if you ever ended up in worse circumstances, god forbid.

"Rafe!" she calls through the house, marching towards the kitchen without even checking to see if you were following. "Can you help me out with this?"

"What are you talking about?" he quizzes, scrunching his face in confusion.

"She doesn't think she needs to learn any self-defense." Sarah clarifies, earning a judgmental scoff from the older boy.

"That's fucking stupid." he corroborates, causing you to glare at him.

"Don't call me stupid." you pout, wishing your well-meaning best friend hadn't dragged her overbearing brother into another one of your predicaments.

Saying you and Rafe didn't get along was an understatement. You couldn't stand him. He was arrogant, and rude, and just completely unbearable. You didn't know how someone as kind and bubbly as Sarah was related to such a nightmare. And along with his dreadful personality, he had a bit of a bad reputation around the island.

Rumours swirled about how he'd been involved in shady business deals or that he was entangled with one of the island's most infamous and menacing gangs. Having gotten into his fair share of fights in high school, which led you back to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"What? Would you rather I lied?" he taunts, unscrewing the cap of whatever sports drink he was holding and taking a sip.

"Enough." Sarah referees. "Besides, you told me you'd help."

"That was before I knew who it was." he antagonizes, not even sparing you a glance.

"Yeah. As much as I'd love an excuse to punch Rafe, I'll have to pass." you acknowledge in a rare moment of compromise.

"Didn't know you liked it rough," he insinuates, rolling your eyes at the innuendo.

"Please." Sarah turns back to you in a pleading manner. "Just some basic stuff. I just want to make sure you don't find yourself in a vulnerable situation again. I hate to agree with him, but it is stupid to turn down learning from, like, one of the best trainers on the island."

Rafe decided after high school that he'd channel his fury and aggressive energy into something more productive, opening his gym up a few years back. And unfortunately, you knew she was probably right. The boxing studio having become one of the hottest spots to work out in Figure 8.

"Don't look so excited, princess. A lot of girls would be jumping at the chance to get free coaching from me." he quips.

"You're not gonna drop this?" you purse your lips at Sarah, her agitation not easing at all. "Fine. Whatever."

"No, if we're doing this, we're doing it my way. My gym." Rafe interjects. "You're gonna be there tomorrow morning at 8. You're gonna come, you're gonna listen to what I tell you, and you're not gonna act like a brat because I'm doing this as a favor for Sarah. Got it?"

With a hesitant nod, the session was set for the next day to your contempt. You were met by the sound of grunts and rustling chains when you entered the facility, finding Rafe at the far side of the room battering a punching bag. Too focused to realize you'd walked in, giving you the opportunity to get a proper look at him.

He wore a fitted white tank and basketball shorts, his sun-kissed skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. His toned arms on full display for you to admire as they tensed every time he hit the cushioned equipment. His signature grimace settled on his features as he beat the hung-up gear like it was personal.

"Fuck," he curses, alarmed once he detected your presence. "Sorry. Have you been here long?" He shrugs off, going for a swig of water.

"Just a minute," you reveal, stepping further into the building, almost feeling as though you weren't supposed to be there.

"Is, uh, that what you're wearing, or were you gonna change?" he surveys, taking in the tight leggings and crop top that clung to you. You shook your head at his question, neither of you knowing how to proceed cordially.

"You don't have to do this, by the way," you mention, giving him one last out.

"Huh?"

"I get you're doing this for Sarah. I can tell her you did if you'd just rather I go..." you offer.

"What? Already trying to run?" he solicits, the typical friction between you arising once again. "I don't mind," he reinforces, relieving some of your apprehension.

He advised that you stretch a bit first, reluctantly following his lead as he got into what you were sure was his standard routine, somewhat hopeless yourself when it came to working out. An R&B track playing lightly over the speakers, filling the uncomfortable quiet that hung between you two.

You found yourself fixed on Rafe longer than usual, blaming it on the fact that you were trying to mimic his agile movements. There was no denying he was attractive, another trait you found particularly irritating, but seeing him in his element gave you a whole new perspective. He looked incredibly chiseled, a stark contrast to the usual sight of him in shirts that hid his arms, noticing how swole his biceps were with every flex of his.

Once you were finished warming up, he led you towards the practice ring that sat at the back of the gym. Tossing you a pair of boxing gloves and discarding his tank to the side prior to ushering you onto the canvas. Circling the perimeter like he was a shark targeting his prey.

"Are you gonna walk around and stare at me all day, or actually teach me something useful?" you sassed, making him to stop in his tracks with a hardened expression. "I don't have all day, Rafe."

"What happened again?"

"I was, uh, walking home from that party on the beach a few weeks back, and some kid jumped out at me on my way home and tried taking my shit." you recount, Rafe frowning at the story.

"Have you ever learned any self-defense?" he inquires.

"Yeah, I pepper sprayed him and ran the fuck home." you explain, making him snicker.

"And when you don't have that on you?"

"I don't know. My keys? A gun?"

"A gun?" he remarks, amused by your answer.

"Yeah. I could get one of those small ones."

"Sounds like a solid plan, princess."

"I swear, if you're just gonna piss me off-"

"I told you when we agreed to this you can't stand around and bitch at me the entire time." he recalls, not appearing too impressed.

"Then teach me something."

"Fine, let's work on your reaction time."

"My reaction time is fine. I did fight him off." you refute, tired of the constant belittling.

"And how big was this guy? Was he 6'5 and huge, or some shrimpy Pogue that wasn't much taller than you?" he challenges, startled at how accurate the latter description was of your attacker. "You might not get that lucky next time around."

You let him take over from there, watching as he continued walking around the platform menacingly, almost sizing you up in a way. Like you were playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Like there was a hint of something almost suggestive hanging in the air between you.

In any other scenario, you probably would've laughed at how he was stalking towards you. Abruptly diving out to snatch you from the side, making you whip around and instinctively throwing your hands in front of you. Not giving him a chance to grab you properly. Seeming satisfied with your efforts, he stepped back to the edge of the ring to launch into the next drill.

It all happened so fast. He rushed towards you from behind, your initial impulse being to turn and lunge the other way, not realizing your shoelace had untied. You were in the air for a few seconds, tripping face-first into the mats. An ache immediately rising as you peeled yourself off the floor, almost missing how Rafe was at your side without delay, concern etched on his features.

"Shit."

He scanned you for injuries, quick to fuss over your condition while you were just trying to adjust to his sudden worry towards you. As you caught your breath, it hitched again when he reached out and held your cheek. Growing nervous when you saw his focus drift to your mouth.

"You're bleeding..." he notes, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip. "Don't move."

He dashed over to snag the first-aid kit and hurried back over, chucking it on the ground beside you. Taking your wrists and unfastening the padded protection covering your fists, doing the same with the other. He searched through the small bag, ripping open an antiseptic wipe as he assessed the wound.

"Sit down." he requested, complying to his instruction since you didn't want to cause any more unnecessary chaos. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh, no..." you trail off.

"This might sting..." he tells you as he brought the damp cloth to the cut, instantly hissing at the tender sensation despite his warning. "Sorry," he murmurs remorsefully.

"Don't apologize. It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. You tripped." he reassures dismissively, letting the conversation die rather than feud over it.

The dynamic between you and Rafe was contentious, the two of you always bickering and getting under each other's skin. However, that wasn't the energy you were feeling right now. If anything, it felt a bit charged. Not missing the way his devious smirk reemerged on his lips as he cleaned the gash, the prolonged silence only making you more uneasy.

"What?"

"Only you would manage to get hurt when I'm trying to teach you how to protect yourself." he patronizes, snickering to himself.

You tore yourself out of his grasp, touching the bloody spot and deciding you'd just handle it yourself in the bathroom. Not in the mood to deal with whatever mind games he was playing at. His reflexes were still quicker than yours as he blocked you from getting up.

"Stop being difficult and just let me," he asserts. Not anticipating for him to take your chin to halt your tantrum, his face just a few inches from yours. "Please."

His glance flickered between your eyes and mouth, noting a shift in his expression—one you'd never seen before. Keeping your own on anything but him, no longer able to trust yourself to not do something you know you'll regret. Finding yourself softening under his wary gaze, against your better judgment.

"Why are you helping me?" you finally decide to ask him, the question coming out almost sheepishly.

"Seriously?" he replies, almost seeming offended. "Other than the fact that I was genuinely trying to do you a favour and show you how to defend yourself, and you ended up with a busted lip instead? Maybe I'm just not as much of an asshole as you'd like to believe."

"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead." you feign, falling back into your usual banter.

"Would it really kill you to just be nice to me for a few minutes?" he comments sarcastically, not giving you much room to argue.

"Thanks, I guess." you concede, his signature grin reappearing.

"Sorry, I missed that." he exaggerates, turning his ear towards you to repeat yourself.

"You're such a pain in the ass." you grumble, crossing your arms. "Thank you."

He finished treating the wound, squeezing out some healing cream onto his finger and brushing it across the sensitive area. Your lips parting at the intimate gesture, your eyelids fluttering shut. Keeping them closed to avoid facing the bitter truth that you didn't totally hate being in this compromising position with Rafe.

"At least now you got some battle scars, so no more thugs will mess with you." he declares.

"You can't help yourself." you scold.

"What? I'm just fucking around." he averts, thrown off by your change in demeanor.

"That's the thing with you, Rafe. Do you take anything seriously?" you proclaim, jumping back to your feet and fiddling to shove the gloves back on.

"Yes?"

"You're stubborn and aggravating, and always fuckingaround. You definitely don't take me seriously-"

"What are you even talking about?"

"That's the whole reason I'm here, right? Another free pass so you can give me shit?" you blindly accuse, temper flaring.

"Fuck, do you ever shut up?" he seethes in frustration, caging you in against the ropes as he towered over your figure.

"Move," you demand, nudging the barrier he'd created around you.

"Calm down," he urges you, as if his domineering stance wasn't partially to blame for your distress.

"Rafe," you huff, trying to escape his scrutiny when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders and pinned you back.

"I said calm down." he reiterates.

His piercing glare acted like another physical restraint, simultaneously making you confront the conflicting desires you'd suppressed towards him for years. It was just the easier choice—not wanting to involve yourself with someone so unpredictable or cross the boundary that was your best friend's older brother.

"Why don't you think I take you seriously?" he investigates, surprised that was what he'd hung onto from your rant.

"Are you kidding me right now?" you counter. "You've never been nice to me since I became friends with Sarah."

"Only because you're a fucking know-it-all," he contends, recognizing the teasing in his voice. "Do you think I'd do this for any of the other clowns Sarah hangs around?"

You didn't know what to say to that, trying not to focus on certain details throughout the years. How he'd always been more impartial to you compared to the rest of the group you were usually with. Assuming the pleasantries he'd occasionally throw your way were just another attempt to get on your nerves.

"You make it so easy to rile you up, princess." he remarks, taking the large gloves that were acting like a barrier between you and slipping them off your hands. "And don't try to tell me you don't like it either."

"I... I don't." you falter.

He took your chin and turned you back towards him, but this time there was no reason for it—caressing your jaw and studying you like some priceless piece of art. It was unsettling, the speed at which he was able to switch from tough and threatening to gentle and vigilant. Knowing you'd never seen this side of him in all the years you'd known his sister.

"Try again." he mutters, not letting you get away so fast.

"I don't, Rafe." you insist, trying to keep your tone steady but still lacking conviction—just enough to give you away.

"Then why haven't you pushed me off yet?" he boasts.

"I-" you stutter, considering your next words carefully. "You still haven't taught me shit." you maintain, knowing your response was weak as it came out.

"What's got you so quiet, hm?" he interrogates, basking in your discomfort.

"You're insufferable, do you know that?"

"Maybe. But you still haven't moved."

That's when his lips grazed yours delicately, almost questioning if it was a hallucination. Only knowing it wasn't because of the dull ache from his direct contact on your fresh injury. His icy blue eyes meeting yours in challenge, as if he was daring you to take the inevitable next step. As if he was waiting for your permission.

It felt like you were hit by a tidal wave when you finally kissed him, the faint taste of blood reaching your senses but you were so absorbed by him to even care. Rafe using his tongue to soothe the ripped flesh as he slipped it into your mouth. All of your resistance towards him being disarmed as he kissed you like he'd been wanting to forever.

One of his hands snaked to the bottom of your scalp, threading through your hair; the other sliding to your lower back and pulling you against him. Cradling you to his large physique like he didn't want to let you stray too far, not that you wanted to. While his actions were just as meticulous as his teaching style had been earlier, his execution was still raw and impassioned.

"Are you gonna keep being difficult? Or are you gonna listen to me like a good girl?" he grills hoarsely.

"Are you gonna make it worth my while?" you retort smartly, not wanting to fully surrender control.

He just chuckled as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, the sound making your stomach twist, something you weren't used to feeling in his presence. Extending your nape as he placed a sloppy peck on your skin, lingering to make sure he'd left a mark. The disdain you'd always held towards him now somehow coming off as charming.

"Relax," he cooed, squeezing your waist before yanking your top off.

He discarded the shirt elsewhere, kissing down your torso and along the waistband of your spandex. Hooking his thumbs into the stretchy fabric, peering up at you as he licked his lips, your heart racing in anticipation. Leaving you exposed and disheveled in the middle of the gym, resting on the ropes to find some sort of stability.

"Shit... Can't believe I've kept my hands to myself this long around you," he mused, skimming through your wetness.

"Please Rafe." you whisper, as if the hushed volume of your voice somehow made it all seem less legitimate.

"Can't hear you, princess." he goads, not tearing his gaze from you. You didn't want to give in to his endless provoking, but it was as if he was coaxing it right out of you.

"Rafe, please." you echo, anguish evident from your tone.

"That's it, baby..." he praises, letting two of his digits slip inside you without any warning. "You always this wet around me?"

You instantly melted into his touch, like you were a puppet and he knew the exact strings he needed to pull. Rafe taking advantage of your disoriented state and kissing you again fiercely, the hostility that had built over the years boiling over and getting channeled into your embrace. Grabbing your thigh and hooking it around his waist to give himself better access to you, bringing you into a deeper lust.

He added another finger, immediately giving away that your climax was close as you clenched around him. And then right when your pleasure was about to hit, he withdrew them. A choked whine leaving your throat as he brought them up to his mouth, not daring to tear his attention from you.

"What the fuck?" you protest breathlessly.

Without a word, he took your extended leg, scooping you up with ease and wrapping you around his frame. Bringing you to the middle of the ring and laying you on the ground, looming over you again as he stripped off his pants. Straddling your bottom half, leaving you dumbfounded by how big he was as he pumped himself a few times.

"Told you if you came here, we do this my way. Arms up," he instructs.

As you stretched them over your head, Rafe took both your wrists and held you down. Your heart racing when you realized what he was doing, squirming as you felt him drag himself between your puffy folds. Rocking against him to create any extra friction as he continued to tease you as much as he could, surely revenge for your coldness towards him over the years.

"What's wrong, baby?" he mocks. "Tell me what you want."

"Need you..." you divulge, being met with Rafe's condescending laugh at your pathetic plea.

"You've made that pretty obvious, but that's not gonna be enough right now." he specifies, knowing what he ultimately wanted to hear and too far gone to keep denying yourself of him.

"Please, Rafe. Need you to fuck me." you confess, shuddering when you felt his fat tip circle your core.

"You had a change of heart or something? Not used to you being so nice to me," he revels smugly. "But since you asked so nicely."

You gasped as he slowly buried himself into you, fluttering around him as soon as he sunk into you. Keeping his motions steady and unhurried on purpose, clearly holding back from outwardly demolishing you right away.

You were already close to your high from his initial build-up, falling back into your bliss as he picked up a consistent flow, trembling as he started playing with your swollen clit. The hand he'd bounded you with loosening the more he lost himself in the essence of you.

"Is that why you've always been such a brat? Wanted me to do something about it? Shut you up myself?" he spits.

You clutched his face as his lips found yours again, unable to conceal how enamored you'd become by him. Losing your composure as his hips snapped into you, gawking at how his cock disappeared with every plunge into you. His athletic figure overtaking you without difficulty, looking like he was some Adonis.

"Rafe, I-" you plead, too consumed to even tell him you were reaching your peak, not that he didn't pick up on it.

"Let it out," he grunts, his rhythm unrelentless.

Shockwaves surged through your system as you let out a loud cry, drenching him with your arousal. Rafe pecking across your collarbones and up your neck until he was back at your lips, swallowing every noise you made. The action much more tender than he'd been up until then.

"Turn over," he barks, barely straying from the kiss.

"W-what?" you stammer, still recovering from the first orgasm.

"You heard me. I'm not done with you yet." he reprimands, straightening his posture. "On your knees."

He nodded forward to emphasize his command, eagerly awaiting what he'd do next. Moaning when he pawed at your backside and yanked you closer, not refraining as his palm glided across the flesh. Only noticing that you were facing the row of mirrors that covered one of the walls as you peered up.

He started hammering into you from behind, his technique now rougher from his new angle. You soaked in his reflection, observing how his torso flexed with every thrust, only becoming more turned on by the lewd scene unfolding in the mirror. Drunk off the sensation of Rafe, already knowing this wouldn't be a one-time thing.

"I think I prefer you this way, princess." he purrs into your ear, smacking your ass one more time. "Too fucked out to open that big mouth of yours."

His movements got hastier, but he still managed to pound at angles he hadn't from your previous position. Gripping your waist roughly as he slammed into you, effortlessly hitting your g-spot with every grind of his hips. In disbelief that the man that was fucking you into oblivion was the same guy that you'd written off for so long.

"You gonna cum for me again?" he gloats, lowering his face to hover beside yours.

"Please, Rafe..." you beg, holding his piercing gaze in the mirror, his warmth radiating onto you.

"Who knew you were so damn polite?" he snides, striking your rear one last time. "Gonna let me ruin that pretty pussy?" he growls, mewling desperately at his filthy declaration.

With a few more pumps, he filled you with his own release, not stopping until he was fully satisfied. Coming undone again yourself as he pushed you back over your edge, the only sound filling the silent gym being heavy panting. Your head dropping in front of you as you caught your breath, whimpering when you felt him pull out.

Reality hit you like a ton of bricks as you finally registered what had just happened. Still clouded in your daze as he left featherlight pecks up your spine, doing your best to ignore the sweet gesture. Unsure how to even go forward, regret swiftly replacing your once insatiable hunger, blaming the moment on pure weakness.

"Hey," you hear Rafe utter, meeting his eyes through the reflection. "I can already see those cogs turning, baby..."

"I just..." you hesitate, trying to find the right thing to say when you'd barely processed what was going on.

"You just what, hm?" he drawls, turning your head towards him as he captured your lips with his.

"You're fucking trouble, Cameron." you mumble, giggling softly at the sudden turn of circumstances.

"What? You didn't enjoy your workout?" He implies shamelessly. "Don't act like you weren't into it. And don't think I'm letting you get away so easily either." He playfully accosts you, toppling onto his back and making you squeal as he pulled you back on top of him, passionately kissing you again.

note: suuper long, suuuper dirty 🤭 i wish i was exaggerating when i say ive been editing this for like a month omfg sos my brain is actually rotted lmao. hope you guys like it!! i'm trying to actually write more since i've been making a lot of short-form content sooo please be kind bc i'm still trying to find my bearings again lolol🙈

#also isn’t this the fucking cutest divider omg !!!#divider by thecutestgrotto #rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #obx rafe cameron #outer banks fanfic #obx smut #obx fanfic #rc

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