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kentoxo · 2 months ago

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friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 3

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: another part out! it's a tad bit lengthy, so sorry about that! i also wanna apologize about how crazy the taglist looks (im so sorry). it wasnt letting me tag yall so i just spaced it out to make sure yall get alerted. if anyone has advise on how to fix that, pls let me know

all parts: pt.1, pt.2,

December | Tokyo, Japan | 4:45 A.M

It was finally Thursday, and you were spending your early morning tangoing with your vacuum.

Despite doing a deep clean yesterday after work, your paranoia was over the roof. Nanami’s visit consumed you like a parasite, with nothing relieving your nerves. Even the sun could not bear witness to your franticness as you long turned on all the lights and began your cleaning venture. You didn’t want to risk Nanami calling you a slob if he saw even one wrapper on the floor. Nanami was quite the meticulous man after all, his eyes containing radars for this kind of stuff.

As you began to dust your already dusted coffee table, you quickly grabbed your phone and dialed Haibara’s number. After a few rings, you hear a click and groaning sound. “Nnnmmm… who?” He barely whispers.

“Yu, get up!” You hiss. Haibara and you have long established your friendship, backing up your ability to drop honorifics. “I need your help, and now.”

“Y/N?” He groans out. You hear some shuffling before a long period of silence. You continue to clean while Haibara tries waking up again. “It’s not even 6… why?” Though his voice was deep and hoarse from exhaustion, he sounded nothing less than a child complaining about waking up early to go to school.

You huff, “don’t you remember? I texted you after work that Nanami is coming to my house today– in like an hour!”

“‘n why does this have to do with me?” His voice sounded scratchy from the speaker of the phone.

“What should I do? What kind of couches does he like? House smells?”

“Y/N, it’s too early for this,” Haibara says through a yawn. “You wouldn’t even be able to buy another couch, even if you wanted to. No furniture store is open at this time.”

You try to continue the conversation, but you were met with snores in response. Hanging up the phone, you let out a sigh. Nanami was coming over for work, not to criticize your home designing choices. You cover your face with your hands, feeling your cheeks tingle from embarrassment. “What am I doing?” You murmur to yourself. There truly was no need to be nervous. This was not a date.

Even so…

You spent the rest of your morning prior to your shift making sure you looked nice. You style your hair neatly, drape on a comfortable jumpsuit (despite Nanami’s comforting words in regards to you wearing pajamas during his visit), and begin working on coffee. You had managed to ask Tae (your newly hired corporate barista) for some instruction on how he makes Nanami’s favorite coffee. You certainly questioned the ingredients and methods, but you continued to follow the instructions. As you were pouring skimmed milk into black coffee, a gentle knock was heard at your front door.

Your heart threatened to escape against your chest. You quickly give yourself a look in your hallway mirror before rushing to the door. Shaky hands sheepishly unlock the door, introducing you to a Nanami you have never seen before.

Here he was before you, in a trenchcoat, black crewneck and black joggers. His eyes revealed his true exhaustion, with his under eyes slightly darker than usual. His hair was not parted from the side, but rather slicked back and wet as you assumed he showered before arriving at your place. True to the weather, his cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. You saw him let out a relieving sigh when introduced to the warmth of your home.

“Goodmorning Y/N,” Nanami hums, his voice hoarse from not being 100% awake. His hands were loaded with his briefcase and a big bag. Judging from the smell, it was the breakfast that Nanami promised he’d buy.

Your mouth felt dry in awe, “good morning to you as well, Nanami. Let me take your coat for you.”

“Ah, I’d hate to get your hands cold,” Nanami waives your offer. He puts down his things gently, being mindful of the breakfast. He begins to strip off his coat, and carefully hangs it on the rack by the door. “It’s unforgiving out there.”

There were snowflakes on his eyelashes, “is it snowing hard out there? I haven’t pulled the curtains yet.”

Nanami smiles and nods, giving his head a little shake to remove the remaining snow from his head, “I’m glad I didn’t invite you to my house instead. Otherwise, you’d be freezing like me.”

You burn up, and quickly gesture to the slippers on the floor. “P-please feel free to get comfortable in the living room! I have the heat in there.”

He bows curtly, “thank you for having me.” You watch as the tall man walks towards your living room, taking a seat on the bigger of the two couches. You rush into your room and retrieve two blankets. Joining Nanami in the living room, you offer him your warmest quilt.

“This’ll keep you warm while you’re here,” you hum. Nanami takes your offer and spreads the blanket over his legs. You see him shiver a bit before getting cozy in the blanket.

“You’re too kind of a host,” Nanami expresses his gratitude once more. He then eyes around before chuckling, “ah, I left our breakfast and my laptop at the front–”

“I’ll get it!” You jump at your words, quickly retrieving the items. You pass him his briefcase, and take the breakfast to your kitchen counter. “I wrote my wifi password on the table, please feel free to connect to it. A-and…”

You walk over to your coffee maker, and lift up the mug of coffee you prepared for him. You carefully hold it with two hands, making a slow walk towards Nanami. He quickly understands, and raises his hands as high and close to yours as possible while remaining seated on the couch. Cold fingertips brush against your knuckles. He holds it delicately, his eyes narrowing down at the froth at the top. “Is this…?”

“Your favorite coffee,” you say quietly. You look away shyly, hoping he didn’t see your nerves in your face. “I asked our recently hired barista how he usually makes your cup of coffee when I went to offer him the position. And so… yeah.” You shuffle in your place, waiting for Nanami to take a sip. But your nerves get to you first and stab at your calm facade, “andifyoudon’tlikeit,I’llbuyonefromoutside–”

Nanami takes a big swig from the hot brew, his Adams Apple protruding his throat from each gulp. A drip of coffee decorates his bottom lip, threatening to either drop on his pants, or begin its slide down his chin. He puts the mug down on one of the coasters of the coffee table and drags his sleeved wrist against his lips. “Y/N,” he emits slowly. “That was… very delicious.”

You could melt right then and there. “R-really?” You felt the bubbles in your words. You were practically floating like one! His reassuring smile made your heart skip several beats. “I would never, ever judge you, but I didn’t realize that fig could work with coffee.”

Nanami smiles warmly, his eyes wistful with nostalgia. He takes out his laptop and turns it on, rubbing the mousepad aimlessly with the tip of his index. “I was addicted to sweets, if that surprises you,” Nanami recounts fondly. “My mom was frustrated, unable to really keep sweets away from me. She was too nice, and would submit whenever I asked for a candy bar at the market.”

You giggle a bit, your hand covering your lips to mask the smile you had. “It’s crazy to think that you, Nanami, would be a sugarhead.”

Nanami lets out a light chuckle, “surely, I like sweets every now and then. Just… in moderation. My mother was the catalyst for the dent in my sweet tooth. She stopped adding sugar in my tea. Rather, she would add half a fig into my cup, and pour the hot tea over it.”

From the memory, your body suddenly felt warm and cozy. Imagining the combination of a fresh fig with green tea being poured over it… it was quite soothing. “It sounds like she was a lovely mother,” you hum. Your smile widened when seeing Nanami’s hazel eyes warm from the recollection. “What made you decide to add fig into your coffee instead?”

Nanami shrugged, “nostalgia, I suppose. It doesn’t offer the coffee much of a sweetener, but you can definitely taste it. I suppose the memory is what makes it sweet.”

You were floating. Being able to speak to Nanami like this– it felt like everything. You two don’t hang outside of work, besides holiday parties or work trips. Even then, all these activities are imbued with your job. Although Nanami was in your house to work with you, it felt different. The two of you can speak freely without eyes constantly flickering to you. As you were lost in your thoughts, Nanami cleared his throat.

“Please feel free to clock in and start eating,” Nanami hums. He adjusts the blanket to cover his feet. “Today's work isn’t too crazy, and I’d rather you feel full and awake.”

You take kindly to his consideration and return to the kitchen. You take a platter plate and begin to unload the bag of breakfast he picked up. You start taking out several breakfast sandwiches, your eyes wide at how many there were in that bag. “Nanami… how many did you get?” You exclaim, holding one sandwich in each hand. He looks over at you and smirks amusingly.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” Nanami said, his smile still being tickled from your shock. “I just got one of everything.”

You smile from his smile, and begin to stack the individually stacked sandwiches on the platter. Leaving the one you want on the counter, you bring the sandwiches near him on the coffee table. You look down at his mug, the coffee-soaked half-fig sat in the center of it. “Would you like another cup?” You offer kindly.

His eyes meet yours, and after a pause, he nods slowly. You grab his mug and go over to the kitchen to prepare another cup. As you did, you decided to make two cups of his favorite coffee. The curiosity picked at you– you wanted to know what Nanami’s favorite coffee tastes like. As you prepared it, Nanami was tapping away at his computer. You tap on your phone to check the time, and realize you need to clock in now. Once you do that, you check your calendar and turn to look at Nanami.

“You have a meeting in 15 minutes with the head of Sales and Strategy,” you remind him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Nanami hums from your couch, “I got so into responding to emails, I definitely would have forgotten. So, thank you again.”

“Of course!” You chime. With both coffees done, you bring both of the mugs over to the coffee table and quickly go back to fetch your breakfast sandwich. You begin to strip the parchment paper from the sandwich and begin to eat it in the kitchen, with a few crumbs falling on the granite top. You walk over to the smaller sofa and set down your breakfast sandwich. You grab your own laptop from the drawer underneath the coffee table and begin to boot it up.

You ate while waiting, enjoying the crisp bacon and cheddar cheese in the sandwich. Nanami looks over at you while you quietly dance to yourself. “I assume it’s good?” He begins, a small curve at the end of his lips. Cheeks warm from his words, and you nod while chewing on your bite. He leans over and brings his hand to your face. You froze while you felt his thumb gently rub your chin of all the crumbs you accrued as you ate. “Ah, m’sorry,” Nanami quickly retracts his hand, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry if that made you uncomfortable, Y/N.”

“Ah, it’s okay!” You quickly waive his concerns, “you were just trying to help is all. I appreciate it…”

Silence ensues between the two of you. But Nanami stopped typing once more to comment on the two mugs. “Did you make yourself a cup of coffee as well? It doesn’t look like what you usually get.”

You shook your head, “it’s a bit too cold for iced coffee. Plus, I wanted to try your coffee and see what the hype is all about.”

He smiles sheepishly, “you might not care for it much. It’s a bit too bitter.”

You shrug, “I’m still curious.” And that same curiosity bit you in the ass. You carefully lift the mug and take a sip, the taste of hot, acrid coffee tormenting your tongue. Quickly placing the mug down, you give Nanami the stink eye. “You… are very brave,” you let out as you take another bite of your sandwich.

Nanami lets out a genuine laugh, “it isn’t for everyone, truly. But it warms my heart that you were willing to try it.”

You look over at him, noticing the wistfulness of his eyes. It was worth it, albeit the foul taste. “It tasted much sweeter in my head when you talked about it,” you softly hum. “I’ll… continue to enjoy it vicariously through you.”

“You’re good with not being mean, Y/N,” Nanami says through another gentle laugh, “I envy that about you a bit.” It was like he was shooting arrows directly at your heart. “A-ah, there’s no need to make everything a bad thing,” you let out nervously. You begin to log into your computer, “just because it’s not for me, doesn’t mean I should make you feel bad.” Nanami agrees with a nod, “you’re absolutely right.” He shifts a bit to get more comfortable in his seat, and looks down to make sure his feet are really covered. When he does, his eyes saunter towards the spare slippers you lent him. “Ah, Y/N, I hope I’m not intruding in you and your partner's space.”

Where did that come from? “Hm?” You eye him curiously.

He points down to the slippers, “these slippers are much bigger than your own.”

“I like to keep a pair for when I have visitors like yourself,” you reason, “but you are absolutely not intruding. I’m… very single.” It felt a bit embarrassing to admit that to your crush, but what can you do? You didn’t want him thinking you were taken when you were readily (hopefully) available for him.

“I see,” he comments quietly. Keeping his eyes glued to his computer, Nanami continues, “I apologize for even bringing up something sensitive like this.”

You shake your hand, “it’s completely fine! Honestly, I don’t mind at all.” Fiddling with your thumbs, you look over shyly at your boss, “I’m like an open book so… whatever you are curious about, I don’t mind sharing with you. I trust you… quite a lot, Nanami,” you admit, your face completely hot.

“And I you, Y/N,” Nanami peels his eyes from his screen to meet your own. “You’ve been nothing but an asset since your transfer, and I couldn’t be more satisfied with your work ethic and capabilities.”

You look down at your lap, with your hands finding solace on your knees. “Thank you very much,” you reply humbly, “but I wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t under your guidance. I feel like I’ve progressed much faster within the company since becoming your assistant. I don’t say this quite enough, but… I’m very grateful to you, Nanami.”

“You might sway me with your flattery, Y/N,” Nanami teases, “your words are so soft, it feels like you’re confessing.”

“A-ah?” You exclaim nervously. You knew he was messing around, but it almost feels like… “d-don’t get the wrong idea! I just respect you a lot, is all… nothing more!”

Hazel eyes narrow down at your face, and Nanami lets out a sigh of relief. He hovers his hand over his chest, closing his eyes in bliss. “That’s actually quite relieving to hear,” Nanami hums. Relieving?

“Hm?” You asked, “what do you mean?” What were you missing?

“Ah no,” Nanami begins to smile again, “I had caught wind of a rumor that I was gullible enough to believe a bit. It made it quite nervous, truth be told. But you’ve now confirmed that it was nothing more than a silly rumor.”

“A rumor?” You felt your body go cold.

Nanami nods, while replying to emails once again, “I overheard some of our coworkers rumor mongering. Along the lines of you having feelings towards me beyond friendly ones. But I’m glad it turned out to be false.”

Fingertips felt like ice, and your heart transformed into glass. It shattered moments after Nanami’s words. Everything that you adored about this man was quickly turning ugly. The idealization of your boss was crumbling, with your feelings following suit. This confirmed that your crush wasn’t light– it was deep and sincere. He broke your heart while head on with your adoration. Haibara’s warnings begin to taunt your mind while your sane mind tries to tend to your heart.

You didn’t even get the chance to confess.

He practically threw away all of your efforts. Every time you would get him coffee so he didn’t have to get it himself. Keeping the staff in check constantly so he needn’t ever worry about the progress of the department. Always organizing all of his meetings and attending to things that were considered miniscule to him. Getting the new barista hired so he could enjoy his beloved coffee within the office. Memorizing all the goods that trigger his childhood sweet tooth.

Your throat felt tight, with your chest feeling even tighter. Tears were threatening to gloss your eyes, with the power in your hands going weak. Your body was ready to go numb, and you wished nothing more than to ask Nanami to leave your home. But work just started, and you couldn’t just kick him out in the middle of his shift.

Your feelings were hurt, but you couldn’t afford being unprofessional. You nod, “just a silly rumor.”

You put down the breakfast sandwich, as a wave of nausea quickly entered your system. You grab your mug of coffee and your laptop. Rushing over to the kitchen, you toss out the remainder of the bitter coffee and begin to make your way to your bedroom. Nanami caught light of your stride and looked up at you, eyes asking where you were off to.

“I have a meeting as well,” you force out, “it’s confidential.”

“Ah, right,” Nanami accepts. “I understand. Take your time, and good luck.” He looks back at his laptop, not missing a single beat when returning to his emails.

With that lie, you close the door behind you, run into your closet, and allow your tears to pour out. Drops spill onto your keys, but you didn’t care. Helpless hands wipe away your tears, only to find futility in its efforts. In your silent woe, you let out your own sigh of relief, despite your pain-filled cry.

You no longer had to torture yourself with the what-if’s. You no longer had to wonder what it would be like to be Nanami’s girlfriend. Your crush was at the end of its road.

With a struggle (through tearful lenses), you take out your phone, scroll through your messages and tap on Haibara's name.

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nanamineedstherapy · 8 days ago

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Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceres Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Warnings: Angst Hurt/Comfort Betrayal Polyamory Gone Wrong Toxic Relationships Emotional Abuse Pregnancy Body Horror Gaslighting Infidelity Isolation Unhealthy Relationships

Chapter 1: Home Is Just a Place You Leave

The clock blinked 3:27 a.m., its red numbers bleeding into the suffocating darkness of the room. The faint creak of the front door shattered the silence, though it only emphasized the hollow ache in your chest. You didn’t look up from your laptop, though the spreadsheet in front of you blurred beneath your tear-clouded gaze. They didn’t call out to you. They never did anymore.

Gojo’s laugh filtered through the quiet, hushed but unmistakable, its usual warmth now slicing through you like shards of glass. It was followed by Nanami’s deep shush—an attempt at reprimand still laced with the remnants of amusement. They were trying to be quiet. Trying not to wake you. Or worse, trying to avoid you altogether.

Your chest tightened as the bedroom door clicked shut. The finality of the sound pressed against your ribs like a vice. You closed the lid of your laptop, extinguishing the only source of warmth in your home office.

It hadn’t always been like this.

Months ago, Gojo would have bounded through the door, sweeping you off your feet with his endless energy, spinning you in the kitchen as you brewed coffee at midnight because you had work to get done with your international clients in different time zones. Nanami would’ve sighed, exasperated but indulgent, chastising Gojo with his usual composure only to steal a sip from your mug when he thought you weren’t looking. He’d press a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring that you worked too hard and should rest. Nights used to mean laughter, warmth, and their insistence that the world could wait just a little longer while they held you close.

Now, the bed was cold. Empty. And when it wasn’t, they were.

The first time you noticed, you convinced yourself it wasn’t real.

They’d been out late again. Gojo’s shirt was rumpled, his cologne faintly overpowered by the acrid bite of whiskey. Nanami’s hair was damp, the scent of cheap bar soap clinging to him. You’d stayed up, the effort evident in the tea set carefully on the table, your hands trembling with hope as you handed them their cups. You’d tried to salvage something, anything.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Gojo mumbled, his brilliant eyes fixed anywhere but on you. “Work stuff.”

Nanami grunted, brushing past you with a brief, impersonal nod. His silence chilled you more than the winter air seeping through the walls.

You told yourself they were tired. You told yourself it was fine. You told yourself it was ok if they had touched each other without you; maybe the missions they were on had been rough. You told yourself you were just being clingy. You’d uprooted your life for them, moving to Japan, where the language was foreign and the culture even more so. You had no friends, no family here. Your subordinates at work were polite but distant; forcing them to spend time with you wasn’t your style. You’d thought they—Gojo and Nanami—would be enough. They’d promised you would never feel alone.

But weeks passed. The crumpled bar receipts in their pockets became harder to ignore. The hickeys on Gojo’s neck and the sight of Gojo’s blindfold hanging from Nanami’s hand like a bracelet every night sent bile rising in your throat. Then there were the texts you glimpsed on the house iPad, where Gojo’s account was still logged in:

Nanamin <3: Tonight again?

Nanamin <3: Same place?

Nanamin <3: Don’t let her find out, Satoru.

Your stomach twisted violently as you read them, the bile in your throat threatening to choke you. You wanted to scream, to throw the iPad across the room, but instead, you exited the app and set it down gently, hands trembling, heart racing. You told yourself there had to be an explanation. There had to be.

But there wasn’t.

They hadn’t even touched you in two months. No kisses, no lingering glances, not even the casual brush of fingers over dinner. The absence of their affection was suffocating, a void that seemed to grow larger every day, swallowing you whole.

You buried yourself in work, accepting every trip, every meeting, every grueling hour. It was easier to drown in spreadsheets and product launches than to face the gnawing loneliness. But even then, their absence clung to you like a shadow, an ache that refused to fade.

At night, the bed felt cavernous. You’d stretch your hand out, desperate for some part of them—a hand, a breath, anything. But all you ever found was the cold emptiness where they used to be.

Tonight would be different.

You’d returned home early, determined to surprise them. You’d made their favorite dinner, lit the candles Gojo liked, and even played the old metal records Nanami swore helped him relax. But as the hours stretched on and your texts went unanswered, your hope dwindled, and the wine bottle you’d opened sat untouched.

Now, you sat in the dark, scrolling through your phone mindlessly until the glow illuminated a photo on Instagram. Your breath caught in your throat.

Gojo and Nanami, seated in a dimly lit bar, laughing like they hadn’t laughed with you in months. Gojo’s grin was wide, his head thrown back in unrestrained joy. Nanami’s lips curved into a rare smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. They looked happy.

Without you.

The photo shattered something inside you. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Your hands trembled as you gripped your phone, your chest heaving.

You’d given up everything for them. Your home, your friends, your career—everything. You’d built a life here for them, endured the isolation, the cultural barriers, the crushing loneliness. And for what? To be forgotten? To be cast aside like you meant nothing?

The front door creaked open suddenly, and you froze. Their voices were softer this time, but you could still make out the unmistakable warmth in Gojo’s laugh, the familiar cadence of Nanami’s low murmur.

You stared at the empty wine glass in front of you, the room suffocatingly silent once more. For the first time, you wondered if you’d made a mistake—if you’d ever meant as much to them as they had to you.

Nanami froze when he saw you, his tie loosened, hair disheveled, half his shirt untucked. Gojo’s ever-present charm faltered under the weight of your stare. You could smell the alcohol from ten feet away on them.

“We didn’t know you’d be up,” Gojo offered, scratching the back of his neck.

“You never care if I am,” you replied lowly, your voice trembling but resolute.

Nanami opened his mouth, then closed it, guilt flickering across his face but offering no solace.

“Do you even love me anymore?” You whispered, tears burning your eyes. “Or am I just the third wheel in my own marriage?”

Gojo’s hands twitched at his sides, but he said nothing. Nanami couldn’t even meet your gaze.

Their silence was louder than any answer.

They didn’t try to explain or comfort you. Instead, they went to bed, leaving you in the drawing room with nothing but your thoughts and the cold, untouched dinner and wine.

You stared at the blank television screen as your mind replayed every moment—the laughs, the touches, the love—that had slowly faded into nothingness.

At some point, the quiet turned unbearable. You wandered into the bedroom, where they lay side by side, their breathing deep and even. It should have brought you comfort, but instead, it only deepened the ache.

Gojo’s arm was draped over Nanami’s waist while Nanami cradled Gojo’s head in his chest, their bodies turned toward each other in unconscious intimacy. The sight made your chest tighten. You covered your mouth to muffle the sob that threatened to escape.

By the time the sun rose, its pale light spilling into the room, you felt no warmth. Only emptiness. You didn’t sleep.

When they finally stirred, you were gone.

You couldn’t bear to interact with people who clearly didn’t want you around, so you moved to the guest bedroom for the morning. It was your leave day, and you had nowhere to go. You had no friends in this country you’d moved to because of them. You’d learned the language somewhat, but it was still hard making connections given your introverted nature.

Their voices filtered in from the living room, low murmurs mixed with occasional laughter. You didn’t dare listen too closely. They were so consumed in each other they thought you weren’t home.

It was easier this way. Once they left, you got up to do your regular skincare and eat something. Not sure what you were looking for when you checked the fridge, you remembered Nanami always left you something to eat. These days you craved his cooking—but nothing this time. You scoffed at the sight as a single angry tear rolled down your cheek.

Two days later, you collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor, your knees pulled to your chest, your body convulsing in spasms you couldn’t control. Every breath felt like it was being pulled from your lungs, sharp and shallow. The weight of it all was suffocating, pressing down on you from all sides. The doctor’s words reverberated in your skull, haunting and relentless.

Twins .

Your trembling hands slowly found their way to your stomach. A cold sweat broke out on your skin as your fingers pressed against the swelling, the tiny lives inside you moving, shifting. It felt wrong. The movement, too much, too fast. It shouldn’t have been like this.

"I’m all you’ve got," you whispered, voice breaking, the words splintering as they left your lips. A sharp, painful sob wracked your chest. Your body betrayed you in ways you didn’t know were possible after your hysterectomy.

You hated it. You hated how their lives were tied to Gojo’s cocky smirk and to Nanami’s quiet strength; you hated how you could already feel them—tiny, fragile, their little bodies twisting and growing inside you. It felt like they were crawling under your skin, stretching and shifting in ways that didn’t belong, but more than anything, you hated how much you loved them already, how their very presence in your body was slowly becoming a part of you, tearing you open from the inside.

You had practically run from the hospital when they wanted more bloodwork, when they suggested deeper tests. The thought of them poking and prodding, of finding out what was inside you, made your stomach churn. If anyone knew—if anyone found out you were carrying the children of the most powerful sorcerers in existence, children who could potentially tip the power scales further—it would be a death sentence.

You couldn’t let them see. You couldn’t let anyone know. The world didn’t need to see what was growing inside you. They wouldn’t understand, so they didn’t need to know what you were tied to.

Because if they found out, Gojo and Nanami would stop at nothing to take them from you. And so would their enemies, who’d tear you apart, piece by piece, to get to them. You could already feel the blood pulsing beneath your skin, the strange, unnatural warmth of it all. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t human.

You couldn’t let that happen. You wouldn’t let anyone take them from you. Even if it meant you had to burn the world down to keep them safe. You had the money for it. The only thing you didn’t have was their support.

You gritted your teeth, eyes stinging with the unshed tears you refused to let fall. You should’ve told them. Should’ve screamed it at them the moment the doctor’s words had settled in your chest. But no, you couldn’t. Not after everything. Not when they didn’t want you, the mother of their child, around.

They’d been avoiding you, disappearing into their own little world, their own secret, leaving you to watch from the sidelines like some unwanted ghost. They’d been too busy with each other, tangled in their own twisted dance of pleasure and control, while you stood there, like the mistress in your own marriage. They didn’t need to know. Not now. Not when they were too busy fucking each other senseless to even look your way.

It wasn’t like they cared anyway.

Gojo had made it clear from the start: he never wanted kids. The idea of leaving behind an heir to carry on the Gojo name—his name—was a joke to him. He hated the clan and everything they stood for. He’d burn it all down before he’d let them turn his own flesh and blood into a weapon for their cause. He’d never allow it.

And Nanami? Maybe he’d considered it once, in a quiet, fleeting moment when the world wasn’t always on the brink of death. But not really. Not enough to change his mind. The reality of their lives, in his eyes—of sorcery—was that they could die at any moment. Kids? They’d both be dead before the kids ever grew up. It was a risk they’d never take.

You had never wanted children either, so you never had any issues; in fact, it was even better that way. You never asked for this. But now they were here. Now they were all you had left, all that mattered. You pressed your hand harder against your stomach, feeling the strange, unnatural pulse beneath your fingers. It was as if something was clawing its way out from within you, desperate to be born.

You weren't even sure why you bothered thinking about it. It wasn’t like they’d ever wanted you to be the mother of their children. You were just the one who got stuck with it, the one left holding the weight of it all. The one left standing while they pretended you didn’t exist.

You’d seen the way Gojo’s eyes barely lingered on you anymore, and Nanami’s were just as guilty—cold, absent, like you were some afterthought. They’d been treating you like the other woman, like you didn’t belong in the life they’d built.

You were expendable.

And yet, here you were, holding their children. Your children. You weren't sure if it was the rage or the pain that made your decision so clear, but you knew you couldn’t give them that power. Not now. Not when they were too wrapped up in each other to care about you.

If they didn’t want to see you, you’d let them stay blind. If they didn’t care, you wouldn’t force them to. You’d keep the secret. You’d protect them—your children—on your own.

Your husbands didn’t deserve to know. Not anymore.

After some nights, the bedroom door creaked open sometime past 3 a.m. You were already under the covers, turned toward the furthest wall, hiding from the world. You’d only stayed in your shared bedroom because you knew they wouldn’t come home; they never did on weekends.

Your breath hitched when the mattress dipped, the weight of it familiar, but this time it felt like dread clawing at your skin. Gojo slid in first, followed by Nanami. A blade twisting deeper into your chest. You felt the weight of it settle in your bones, pressing you further into the bed, as though the world was slowly collapsing on top of you.

You could hear the wet, sloppy sounds of their kisses, their breaths, so painfully intimate and shallow it felt like a physical violation. Gojo’s muffled whimpers, Nanami’s barely audible groans—they echoed in your mind, tearing away the layers of the lies you’d been telling yourself. Your hands clenched your shirt, knuckles white with the effort to hold yourself together, but every rustle of fabric, every quiet chuckle that followed, felt like it was shoving you further into the abyss. You weren’t just an observer; you were a prisoner, locked in your own home, trapped in a marriage that was no longer yours.

You heard the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle being released. “Not here,” Nanami muttered, his voice low but lacking any real conviction, as though it were a half-hearted protest. You could almost hear the disinterest in his tone, as if your presence had become a dull ache he’d long stopped caring about.

“Why not?” Gojo’s voice was smug, teasing, as if daring the universe to intervene, daring it to stop him. “She’s asleep.”

You weren’t asleep. You hadn’t been able to sleep for days, but the idea of letting them know that—of confronting them right now felt disgusting—felt like it would tear you apart. The bed shifted slightly with their movements, and you felt each small shift like a punch to the gut. The sounds of their clothes rustling, the soft murmurs of each other’s names, the desperate, needy gasps—they all melted together into a sickening symphony that filled your ears, but you could hardly hear them over the sound of your own heart breaking. It was obscene. It was intimate. It was everything you weren’t anymore.

Tears burned down your cheeks, hot and stinging as they fell. Your body trembled beneath the sheets, every muscle aching with the effort to keep yourself from breaking down completely. You pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, desperate to stifle the sobs that clawed at your throat, but it didn’t matter. They couldn’t hear you. They never would. Gojo’s words sliced through the air with cruel simplicity.

“See? Nothing.”

It was the final blow. The words rang in your ears, each syllable heavier than the last. The suffocating silence that followed felt like it would swallow you whole. Your chest ached with the weight of it, a hollow emptiness growing where your heart used to be. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, the metallic taste of blood spreading across your tongue, but it didn’t stop the pain. Nothing could stop it. Nothing could make it stop.

The bed shifted again, the weight of their bodies moving in rhythm, their shared gasps filled the air. It felt like you were being suffocated, the room closing in on you, pressing in on all sides. You wanted to scream. You wanted to turn around, to confront them, to demand answers, to demand some shred of decency, but you couldn’t. You stayed silent. Unmoving. Paralyzed by a combination of rage and heartbreak so deep, it left you hollow. You wanted to crawl out of your skin with the way you felt disgusted with them, with yourself being next to them.

You stayed silent because you had already made your choice. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to do. You had been here before, alone in your marriage, surrounded by their indifference. And yet, it was never more apparent than it was now, with their laughter still echoing in your mind, their skin brushing against each other as if you were invisible.

The air in the bedroom was suffocating, thick with the stench of unspoken words, broken promises, and sex. You could feel the ghost of their presence on the bed beside you, a haunting reminder of what they’d once been, of what you’d once thought you had. But now, it was just a shell.

Your eyes were wide open in the dark, staring at the wall in front of you but seeing nothing. You couldn’t sleep. Not now. Not after the cruel mockery of your existence that was playing out in front of you. Their bodies moving together—everything about it was a slap in the face. You weren’t there, you weren’t needed, and you never had been.

You had thought you’d gotten used to the isolation, to the distance they kept, but tonight had shattered whatever fragile illusion you’d managed to cling to. You had never felt more invisible, more worthless, than you did in that moment. They hadn’t even cared enough to hide it. They hadn’t even cared enough to pretend.

You didn’t know how long you’d been lying there, trembling beneath the sheets, your body wracked with sobs you couldn’t stop. You were still in the same bed you’d shared with them, the bed that once felt like a symbol of everything you’d built together, now a mockery of your place in their lives.

Your body felt wrong. You pressed your hand to your stomach, feeling the faintest flutter of movement beneath your skin, the tiny lives growing inside you—their children. The children they had never wanted. The children you hadn’t wanted. And yet, here they were, their presence growing inside you, relentless and undeniable. Their actions next to you made you feel like these children were a disease, a curse, spreading through your veins, feeding off the pain, feeding off the isolation. It made you feel alive in a way that made your skin crawl.

You hated it. You hated that you were carrying their children, that your body was betraying you in the worst possible way. You hated that the only part of them that still mattered—that was what had been left inside you. And yet, no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of them. You couldn’t. They were the only thing you had left; it wasn’t their fault they came from such fathers.

You weren’t even sure why you stayed anymore. You had given them everything—your time, your body, your trust—and all they had given you in return was distance, neglect, and betrayal. Gojo, with his smug, untouchable arrogance, always so sure of himself, never even noticing the cracks in the façade. Nanami, the stoic, the silent one, always too focused on his work, too focused on keeping his distance. They were too wrapped up in each other to see you, too lost in their own world to even acknowledge that you existed.

This was beyond anything you had prepared for.

And yet, when you closed your eyes, all you could hear were the sounds of them together. The muffled groans, the wet kisses, the sound of their skin against skin. Every breath you took felt like it was pulling the air from your lungs, suffocating you in the weight of it all. You wanted to scream, to shout at them, to demand that they see you. But you didn’t. You stayed silent because you knew it wouldn’t matter. If they cared, they wouldn’t have left you for days without a word after you had begged them to tell you if they loved you. You were just a ghost in their lives now, nothing more than a bystander in a marriage that had already crumbled.

The next morning, when they left, as they always did, before the sun had even risen, you lay there, unmoving like you had the entire night, too afraid of the humiliation, unable to shake the image of them slipping away from you once again. The bed was still warm, but it wasn’t enough. The scent of their cologne lingered in the air, a reminder of everything you had lost, of everything they had taken from you.

You stared at the ring on your finger, the symbol of everything that was supposed to be but never was. It felt heavier than ever before, like a weight pulling you down into the abyss. A reminder of how much you had given up and how little they had given in return.

You were nothing to them now. Nothing but a placeholder. A person who had been used, then discarded. And still, you had stayed because you had no choice.

So you made your choice.

You left the ring on the nightstand.

You locked the door behind you and didn’t look back.

Notes: Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts: Who do you think is more unforgivable, Gojo or Nanami? Or is it both? Please leave a comment; your chaos fuels mine. This fic is already written & will be 4-5 chapters, including this one, so the updates will be every fridays.

Chapter 2 - Home is just a place you leave (Tumblr/Ao3)

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thisismeracing · 29 days ago

Note

Hi lovely, I was wondering if I could please request a French girl version of the Greek girl.

oui, bb! <3 you didn't specify if with mick or Charles, but I'm going with Charles. Hope its ok *mwah*

Requests are now CLOSED

CHARLES DATING A FRENCH GIRL | CL16

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds regarding French and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’tforget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee)

Ok, so both of you speak French, which means there's no need to learn a new language for communication. However, I think Charles would definitely get your accent and probably copy a few of your expressions as well;

He MELTS the first time you call him "chéri";

Now you know how upset he gets when people confuse him for a French person right? But now he'll take the opportunity to mention that you're French;

"I'm Monegasque, but my girlfriend is French," with the biggest smile on his face;

The first time he met your family they made Quiche and Soufflé he almost cried, couldn't stop saying how delicious it was and how he would be bothering them for food all the time now. Turns out he wasn't joking because every available time he has, he'll drive/fly to your family house to spend time with them and eat whatever yummy stuff your grandma made - especially because she'll adapt the recipes to his athletic reality;

Date nights are basically you and him choosing typical dishes to make. Your favorite is Ratatouille, but you'll go all around the world, sometimes choosing to cook something from Japan or Colombia;

You think those Eiffel towell couples were super cheesy, but LOVED the boat date he organized and of course, you got tons of Polaroids kissing in front of the towel;

Fans will spot you two dancing and laughing during the Fête de la Musique celebrations;

You love Paris, but your city of love with Charles is probably Toulouse or Nice;

He loved the fact that you and your family were near him, a quick plane ride distance most times.

Speaking of family, your family and his are super close. So much they spend time together without you. Your siblings with his, your nana and dad with his mom, and you two just love how you become a big family.

#millies inbox #anon #cl16 #charles leclerc #op: headcanons #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #french!reader #charles leclerc headcanon #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #f1 headcanons

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snowball-doie · 2 months ago

Text

| pairing: Switch!Haechan x Switch!Mark x gn!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly!ilichil. Blowjob. Sub-leaning Mark, Dom-leaning Haechan.

| wc: 2.8k

| aurora's note: not explicitly part of my poly!ilichil book (so no mention of reyna)

Movie night in the house was fairly chill. It wasn’t mandatory, and the film was always chosen at random by whoever pulled the highest number out of a baseball cap, so if someone didn’t care for the movie that the winner decided on, then they could go do whatever else they wanted. For the most part, though, the boys always stayed. Especially ever since their conflicting schedules prevented all eight of them from being in the same room at once. Taeyong was still in the military, Yuta was in Japan to promote his tour, and within the next few weeks Mark and Haechan would embark on the European leg of their tour while Jaehyun would enlist. A house filled with you and eight men was slowly losing its numbers. Soon it would just be you and three others… That was a shitty feeling… So the boys tried to make their time together count, even if it was only six out of eight of them in the house.

When you came home from work, the boys started pulling numbers out of a hat while you changed into pajamas. By the time you were changed and fit to relax for the night, Haechan was in the kitchen eating a bowl of ice cream, Mark disappeared, Jaehyun and Johnny were looking on an iPad at what new manga sets Johnny should buy, and Doyoung and Jungwoo were making themselves comfortable on the couch in their usual spots.

“Who won?” you asked, plopping down on the empty couch perpendicular to the wall with the big TV.

“You did,” Jungwoo replied. He tossed the TV remote at you, hardly giving you the chance to realize what he said and catch the remote before it could hit you in the nose.

“Where’s Mark?”

Johnny turned off his iPad. “Doing skin care upstairs. He said we can start watching without him… I think Chenle’s going to try to convince him to play some video games, too, so I wouldn’t count on him sticking around.” He reclined in the love seat next to Doyoung and Jungwoo’s couch while Jaehyun sprawled out in the empty space in the middle of the room, since they had to evacuate the coffee table in order to make room for everyone. “He’s exhausted and stressed from working on the last few songs for his album.”

“And Hyuck?”

“He’ll join us when he’s done eating.”

“He’s tired from rehearsals,” Jaehyun said quietly.

You started scrolling through Netflix for a movie you wanted to watch. “They’re both drained. I can’t believe the company’s already talking about another Dream tour next year.”

“Yeah, well, it was supposed to be us, but…” Doyoung stared at the back of Jaehyun’s bleached blonde head. “Anyhow.” He sighed.

Jungwoo shifted to get comfortable, cuddling up against Doyoung who laid back against the armrest of the couch so that Jungwoo could lay against his chest. “Can we watch an anime?”

“It’s not your night to pick,” Johnny warned.

“You were thinking the same thing!”

“It’s not my night to pick either.”

To appease the boys, however, you went to another streaming service to find The Boy and the Heron, a film which more than half of the room hadn’t seen yet, and it was anime to make them happy. The four content smiles in the room told you everything you needed to know. And as the movie, they all settled happily, their focus solely on the film, which left you smiling too as you got comfortable under a blanket.

Mark returned later like he promised. About fifteen minutes into the film, he made an appearance in his pajamas, his hair wet from showering, his face bare with all of his makeup and daytime skin care washed away in order to cover his face with his nighttime routine. You looked up at him as he entered the living room, hesitating for a moment while he considered his options for where to sit or lay down. There was some room next to Johnny on the love seat if he scooted over, Jungwoo and Doyoung took up the entire couch facing the TV head on, there was room next to you if you sat up, and if Jaehyun didn’t lay down in the very middle of the room there was space for Mark to lay down too. However, no one budged except for you. Mark sat on the floor with his back pressed against the couch you were on so that he was between your legs— Even though he could’ve sat on the couch with you if he wanted. It seemed he was more comfortable down there. Tiredly, Mark’s head fell against the inside of your left calf while both of you silently watched the movie, his hands gently massaging your ankles until you got the hint that he wanted to be played with too, so you started combing your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp, massaging sore spots to help with any stress or headaches he had. Mark immediately melted.

“When do you need to call Chenle?” you whispered down to him, scratching behind his ear like he were a dog or a cat.

He shook his head slightly. “I told him I’m busy with you guys.”

Though he couldn’t see you, you were smiling behind him,scratching your fingers through his hair from his forehead down to his neck. He shivered then melted further into you. He was cute, like a pet, when he was tired and wanted to just fall asleep and forget about all of his worries.

But then in came the menace known as Haechan who was done with his ice cream and had cleaned his dishes before entering to sit and watch the second half of the film with you guys. Rather than taking a moment to decide where he was going to plop down, Haechan made his way directly over to you and Mark before he dropped to the ground and put his head on Mark’s lap and his feet on Jaehyun’s thighs— Both boys looked at Haechan with a questioning look before surrendering since there was no use in fighting against Haechan.

“Oh, fuck, Mark—” Haechan squirmed on the ground then flipped over and pushed himself up to look at the man sitting between your legs.

Mark hid his face against your leg. “Sorry.”

“What is it?” Jungwoo pried with his interest piqued, just like the rest of the group.

“He’s got a hard-on just from having his hair played with!”

You hesitated, to which Mark whined and nuzzled his face into you some more— Both to hide his embarrassment but also because he so desperately wanted you to keep going. But once he knew that everyone was looking at him instead of the movie, Mark started brushing Haechan off so that he could stand, while he muttered something about taking care of it and coming back soon. Both you and Haechan worked together to sit Mark back down after you silently shared a thought that it could be handled there. Afterall, you were responsible for getting him worked up… and Haechan was the one impacted by the distraction the most because his pillow was a bit hard.

Mark looked around panicked. “I’m sorry—”

You comforted him by running your hands through his hair again, then you leaned in to kiss his cheek lovingly, which put his guard down enough for Haechan to lay on his stomach between Mark’s legs. Mark was a bit distracted by your touches and kisses to care about the way Haechan was pulling Mark’s pajamas down just enough so that his erection sprung out.

Some of the boys sighed and shifted so that their focus was turned more on the TV rather than what was transpiring on the couch to their left. You, however, was focused on keeping Mark distracted some more. Haechan was being wicked, having his way by slowly rolling the tip of his thumb over Mark’s tip while he stared at you with innocent doe-eyes that nearly made you pull both him and Mark upstairs so that you could fuck them until they were too tired to keep their eyes open any longer. And Haechan got cocky once he saw that look in your eyes. He grinned while he began jerking Mark off at a slow pace, just to test the waters, get him worked up some more before the next part went underway.

His gaze glued to yours, and Mark’s eyes rolling to the back of his head, Haechan wrapped his lips around Mark’s tip.

“Shit, Hyuck—” Mark squirmed between your legs. “Your mouth’s fucking freezing.” Must’ve been from the ice cream.

But that didn’t deter Haechan. With his eyes closed, he lowered his mouth down all the way until Mark’s cock hit the back of his throat, causing Mark to whimper and roll his hips until Haechan put a hand on Mark’s hip to force him to stay still. As Hyuck started slowly bobbing his head, Mark let go. His moans and pleas for more were disrupting the movie, yet the others tried their best to stay focused, so you decided to help them out by giving Mark two of your fingers for him to suck on. He did so eagerly. The second he latched onto your fingers, his moans were muffled around them instead of covering up the sound of the movie, and as his tongue swirled and stuck between your fingers, you saw him still trying to fight against Haechan.

“Go slower,” Jaehyun instructed quietly without even looking over at them. “You want it to feel good, don’t rush it.”

Haechan rolled his eyes, as if to say to you, the only person who could see it, that he knew what he was doing, he didn’t need directions. However, Johnny caught it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at us.”

Haechan groaned sexually while slowing his movements and grinding his hips against the carpet. His hands moved from holding Mark’s base and hip to Mark’s muscular thighs so that he had something to ground himself on while he tried to maintain a slow and tortuous pace that had Mark panting against your fingers while mumbling more pleas for Haechan to go fast again, but he didn’t listen. Unfortunate side effects of both of them being switches. On the off chance the two of them wanted to play together and Haechan was the one in the Dominant mood, there was nothing Mark could say or do to have the younger man listen listen to him. Go faster only ever encouraged Haechan to continue going slow. Touch my balls made Haechan avoid them. Let me cum urged Haechan to pull away completely.

And that was exactly what happened.

When Mark popped your fingers out of his mouth suddenly to moan out, “Please let me cum,” Haechan pulled his mouth away. Johnny smirked from his comfortable spot on the opposite side of the living room. Haechan, though seemingly inclined to torture Mark further, didn’t have much energy in him to edge Mark all night, so he went back to licking around Mark’s tip slowly, cleaning up the mess of pre-cum mixed with saliva.

“Please,” Mark croaked, tilting his head up to look at you. The boys weren’t going to save him because they were too invested in the film, but you could take pity on him— Especially in the state he was in. He was so tired… so overwhelmed with the Dream tour, his solo album, the upcoming 127 concert in January, and all the projects on his plate the following year. “Please…” That got you.

Though you hardly had any sway over Haechan’s Dominant side— At least not like Johnny, Yuta, and Jaehyun did— you reached over Mark’s shoulder to put your free hand on the back of Haechan’s head, pushing him down, watching as he took every inch of Mark into his mouth again before you told him quietly to ignore Jaehyun’s instructions. All he needed to do was make Mark feel good, then both of them could rest. That was what they wanted, right? To relax, enjoy everyone's company, and not worry about a thing? You would do that for him if he was a good boy and made Mark cum.

Haechan took the lead again, rapidly getting Mark off, even bringing one of his hands up to jerk off Mark’s base and gently massage his balls. Mark’s hands found your ankles which he grabbed onto for dear life. He was so happy. He was back to moaning with relief and excitement, his orgasm building quickly, his hips bucking around again since there was no more fight from Haechan to stop him.

“Please, please, please, can I cum?” he begged desperately, his nails digging into your skin.

Your touch drifted from Haecha’s head to Mark’s chin so that you could hold him steady while pressing him against the couch and tilting his head up again so that you could see his face when you whispered those magic words, “You can cum.”

Mark’s face twisted with pleasure as he started cumming down Haechan’s throat. Jungwoo’s attention was caught slightly, his own hips rolling around in the hopes for Doyoung to start giving him some kind of relief, but he was ignored for the sake of the climax of the movie that had the rest of the boys involved.

Haechan’s own moans vibrated against Mark. He whined and jolted, the last of his high passing and turning into a blissful touch of overstimulation that stole Mark’s breath. Haechan was grinning. Mouth full of cock, cum leaking out, his cheeks red and eyes glazed over with lust. Haechan looked beautiful. Perfect, even.

“Okay, okay, don’t be mean,” you said, releasing Mark’s chin and reaching to tap Haechan’s cheek.

On his way up, Haechan licked up all of the cum that escaped his mouth, cleaning up every bit of the mess he made since Mark had already showered, and both of you could see how spent he was, his entire body and mind already giving into his exhaustion.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up and head to bed early?”

Mark slumped his back against the couch and rested his cheek on your knee. “Give me a bit.”

Haechan put Mark’s pants on properly then rolled over to lay down his head on Mark’s lap as he had intentionally meant to. Now he was more comfortable.

By the end of the movie, Mark and Haechan were asleep at your feet, the two of them quietly snoring, Mark’s hands still glued to your ankles so that you couldn’t escape without waking him. Jaehyun was mindlessly massaging Haechan’s feet that were on his stomach when he made a comment about how maybe they should use Haechan to wear the two of them out more often— Specifically whenever Haechan would throw a hissy fit about being sent to bed early after working overtime at the office for a couple of days in a row. Johnny laughed and turned off the TV. Jungwoo tiredly sat up and began dragging a tired Doyoung upstairs with him, but it seemed that rather than cuddling and sleeping, Jungwoo had half a mind of getting rid of his erection too with Doyoung’s help upstairs.

“What do I do about this?” You gestured to how Mark had you trapped.

Johnny stood from the love seat. “Sure you can’t sleep like that?” he joked. When you rolled your eyes, he and Jaehyun came to your rescue. Slowly, Johnny woke up Mark while Jaehyun woke up Haechan. Both of them whined complaints when they opened their eyes. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable upstairs.” Jaehyun lifted Hyuck to his feet first before corralling him upstairs, then Johnny leaned over to pull Mark up to his feet, messing with his hair with a giggle. “Go on.”

Tiredly, Mark trudged up the stairs to his room.

“Thanks,” you said when Johnny helped you to your feet.

“Thanks for compromising on a movie tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t pay attention for most of it anyhow.”

Johnny chuckled, and with his hand in yours, he began leading you upstairs. “At least you had fun, right?” When you nodded, he smiled. “You should sleep in their bed tonight, since they’re leaving for tour soon.”

Mark wobbled into Haechan’s bedroom. You heard some annoyed whispering back and forth, followed by the thump of a body collapsing on a mattress. Seemed they were arguing about whether or not Mark had permission to sleep in there. It also seemed it didn’t matter because he passed out.

“Night, Johnny.”

“Night, love.”

As he dove into his room, you walked into Haechan’s to find both him and Mark sprawled out completely, limbs tangled together, drool already pooling out of Mark’s mouth. They were such idiots. But they were your idiots. So you climbed into bed with them, trying your best to make room for yourself while they groaned about not wanting to be woken up again.

“Fuck off,” you groaned as Haechan accidentally elbowed your ribs.

“You first.”

“Both of you shut up,” Mark mumbled into his pillow.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Haechan teased, still half asleep.

You grinned to yourself. You were going to miss them a lot while they’d be gone on tour again…

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tora-ken · 7 days ago

Text

. 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒

.pairings gojo satoru x gn!reader

.genre nonsorcerer!au, angst, unhealthy relationship

.ongoing | complete

.tw cursing, gojo clearly needs help, mentions of death, alcohol

.wc 4.3k

SUMMARY — In the July heat, Satoru is a glass of ice cold water, there to refresh you. In the December chill, he’s a bittersweet memory that tugs at your heartstrings.

reblogs are appreciated!

It was a warm summer's night meeting Gojo Satoru, yet it felt like the winter blazed upon your heart as he glared at you with his piercing eyes, intimidated by his stare. The heat of July 13th could not melt the ice protecting the shackles of Gojo Satoru’s heart and it was obvious from your first encounter.

On the contrary, you came into Satoru’s life like a breath of fresh air you didn't know you needed. His shoulders seemed to relax from their tensed state, and his teeth would no longer grit as he registered your existence beside him. But it could not satiate the clenching feeling in his heart when he stared down at the headstone in front of him.

–

“I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

It was cliché, your encounter. The classic coffee incident, who knew that the two most unpredictable people to live in Japan would have the most foreseeable romance of all time.

"It’s alright, I wasn't paying attention."

You paid him back for his shirt and the jelly stick in his hands as an apology, to which he seemed to accept gleefully. Cute. You thought.

A month was how long it took for him to kiss you on your seventh date. Rather than the stories telling you the butterflies in your stomach finally fluttering, or the fires set alight in your heart, there was peace, and tranquility within the depths of your stomach, the swirling feeling no longer in movement.

Pulling away from him, heavy breaths, and rosy cheeks you smile, laughing as he cups your face and pulls you into his embrace once again.

"You're so cute, Y/N."

Nine months, and he asks you to move in with him.

"Satoru, aren't we going a bit fast?"

"I'm sorry, it's just, you make me so happy."

That seemed to be enough reason for you to pack all of your bags, and move into his apartment in upstate Tokyo.

–

You grew uncomfortable in his presence the first night you moved in. He felt like a new person. The swirl within your stomach intensifying each second, and you felt nauseous. Who was this man you met all those months back in July?

"Toru, I’m sorry, it's just slippers I didn't know-"

"Well they're not yours. Fuck off and get your own."

Being his partner, you assumed that he bought those for you as some sort of housewarming gift, to get comfortable in the place on your first night, whilst it was actually the down side of your relationship.

He had a partner a few years ago, that he seemed to not be completely over, and you had fit their exact description appearance wise. But you would never be them, hell you didn't even know him back then. And it's not like you were ever going to find this out from him, it was the little things.

It grew from scolding to comparison, "Why can't you be like Yuki?" "Yuki never did this when we were together" "That’s not how Yuki does it." and you grew tired of it.

Your heart burned every second as he left the house more frequently, coming back later than scheduled, with tears stained into his shirt, and red tainted into his sclera. Living with him grew to be a chore, and the couch became more comfortable than the confines of his arms where he would whisper a name that wasn't yours.

You acknowledged that you were hurting yourself in this ill-fated relationship, but enjoyed the validation he had served you so seldom. The peppering of his kisses in the rise of the sun, and the moments where you would lock eyes as you brushed your teeth together at night, and interlocking hands as you went grocery shopping.

Pulling you back by the waist became a habit, and Satoru’s limbs felt empty without a presence that was familiar to Yuki’s, or rather a face. He was unaware of the agony he had afflicted upon you before entering the relationship with his toxic baggage.

As selfish as he was, your presence slowly pieced into his schedule like it was always meant to be there, and a day without it felt like a void that could only be indulged with the stimulating comfort of alcohol and cigarettes. subsequently, it brought out an unattractive aspect of his personality, torturing you emotionally according to his own pleasures or until he was tired and expected you to put him back to bed.

–

Eighteen months was how long it took for you to finally pack your things and leave. You were fed up with waiting for him to realise he had been hurting you, fed up with waiting for his apologies, or the deserved explanations as to why he kept you around like a toy.

Upon meeting his friends, you grew the closest to Nanami, who finally had the guts to explain to you that Satoru's previous partner, Yuki, had died in a car accident on their four year anniversary.

–

"You know, I think you were his next big thing." Taking a sip from his glass, Nanami stares at the light he turned on from the torch on his phone.

"...big thing?"

"You’re the first serious relationship he's had since...I’d rather not."

"Then why would you bring it up?" You couldn't understand his logic, if he never wanted to speak about it in the first place why would he leave you hanging like that?

"It’s just, I think it's best to hear it from Gojo himself."

"He’s barely home, why do you think I'm here right now?" Sighing languidly, you slouch in your seat staring up at the white ceiling.

"Fine. But don't tell him I told you, I’m only saying this because you deserve to know." He exhales deeply, as if to prepare for a big speech. "About four years ago, Gojo’s last partner died in an accident on their anniversary, after that he didn't date or do anything for that matter, for a long time. Until he met you. I think you make him happy, we haven't seen him like this in a while."

A twisting sensation grew its way up your stomach to your chest, as pieces connect, you finally understood why he was so flagrant in his distaste towards you when you committed a sin as grave as wearing a pair of slippers that were never yours.

"I don't think it's me that makes him happy."

"Do you want me to be honest?" He pushes on, staring at the drink before him.

"...Yeah."

"You look an awful lot like them."

And the twisting soon melted into an ache, so familiar and reminiscent of your feelings when you would stare at his eyes with adoration and notice the emptiness in his looking at yours.

You scoffed. You acknowledged that Nanami was trying to sympathise or make you feel better these days, but it took a turn for the worse. Satoru made you feel like a rebound, as if you were just a speck of dust in a dirty room, a second in his time of life to which he was going to waste. One like any other. In the end, he would never love you the way you loved him, because he was still mourning.

His honesty should've stayed a mystery – your curiosity should've never delved past the limit Satoru had set from the day you moved in.

You were a sign screaming for help from the man who held you by his side at night, had waited for someone to swoop in and save him from the clutches you never meant to keep him under.

"I understand." And you left.

–

“I’ll see be home late today, I’m having a couple drinks with Suguru and Shoko.” Satoru presses a chaste kiss on your lips as you make him his morning brew, with extra sugar as he always likes it. He grabs the mug and gives you another kiss. “Thank you, baby.”

He was in an awfully good mood. “Alright, be safe on your way home, just text me when you guys are going home, I can pick you up from the bar.” Your mind races back to the conversation you had with Nanami a few days prior.

Satoru nods, before taking one last gulp of his coffee, washes the dish quickly and grabs whatever else he needed for work that day. “I’ll text you later, love you!”

You smile weakly, and mutter a “You too”. The door slams shut, and you sigh in relief, before your legs give out, recollecting everything that had happened with Nanami, giving yourself time to process everything.

There was a conflict between your mind and your heart, each battling for different paths. Your mind fighting so defensively for a future that doesn’t involve living a life where Satoru doesn't have to leave your heart in shambles every time he looks at you in longing, a sad, grieving, mourning longing. A life without him.

But as torturous your feelings were, your heart kept you within close proximity with Satoru, thinking that one day, some day, you could reach out to him, and finally make him realise he was yours. Not Yuki's, but yours. Your heart fought for a future where that was possible, driving your every move and word for Satoru to lead you to that potential moment.

You were already halfway there, living with him, breathing with him, calling him yours, exchanging "I love you's", albeit they may not be entirely true on his part, but you were halfway there. There was just one more push needed, whether it be from you or him.

And you chose your heart. You chose Satoru. As you always do.

11:44pm

toru <3: bbay come het me pla

you: alright.

Arriving at the bar Satoru laid red, and intoxicated, his head resting on his forearm, muttering mindless words to himself, as Geto waited uninterestedly beside him. "Come on, Y/N's here."

Satoru's ears prick up at the mention of you, and he cheeses, the red deepening on his inebriated cheekbones. "My love, there you hic- are." Arms outstretched towards you, and you take one of them and lay them around your shoulder as you send Suguru an apologetic look.

"Hey, thanks for waiting with him Geto. How much did he drink?" You question, as your boyfriend lolls his head in a circle, and comes to rest beside your neck, his breath fanning against your ear, and the stench of alcohol wafts its way to you.

"A few pints of beer, as you can see. He's never been great at holding his alcohol." Geto rolls his eyes.

"Clearly." You chuckle, "Sorry for taking so long, are you okay? Do you want a ride back to yours?"

"Nah, it's cool, Shoko's waiting in the car for me, thanks though. I'll see you 'round."

"Bye." You wave, and you stare back down at Satoru, whispering little nothings to himself again. "Come on, home time, Toru."

"Heck yeah, Home Time Toru!" He exclaims, before dragging his feet as you struggle to carry his weight to the car.

Driving home, Satoru mumbles the whole car ride, humming along to the music every few minutes or so until you finally pull into the parking spot outside your apartment.

He attaches himself to your waist as you drag him through the entrance of your apartment, and flings himself onto the sofa in your living space.

“You’re so sweet…” His slurs reverberates through a pillow, just loud enough for you to hear. Heartwarming, you feel as his words creep up to your chest and you smile to yourself.

“Have some water, here.” Bringing a cup towards his lips, he puckers up and takes a sip, before sighing deeply.

“Why does it have to be you.” An eerie atmosphere engulfs itself in the four corners of the walls, and he stares at you in anguish, possibly hatred. “I hate that it’s you picking me up when I’m out, making me coffee in the mornings, giving me water when I’m drunk.”

Drunk words are sober thoughts.

And the metaphor drills itself into your brain, pushing past your years of development and all of a sudden, you’re a child again. Dejected by the criticism thrust upon you.

“Why don’t we get you to bed, yeah?”

He nods in accordance, dragging his feet behind him as he struggles to unbutton his shirt and change into his pajamas, with you following suit, your heart crumbling with every step you take.

You help brush his teeth and wash his face, still clearly out of touch with the world of sobriety even after tucking into the sheets and he begins once again.

“I hate your face.” He seethes.

You shift further away from him in the bed, the distance between you two opening as your chest aches into another chasm, and you stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you can be.” Because you weren’t Yuki.

–

Satoru wakes up the next day, with a pounding in his temple, and he turns around to see your back facing him. How domestic, he stares at the divot in the bed, created by your form, the months that you've so loyally stayed on that side of the bed, your boundary, never truly passing over to his.

He shuffles slightly to learn towards you and lays his head atop your shoulder, feeling the slow rise and fall of your body as you slept and you shift as you feel a weight against your body.

He doesn't remember.

"Good morning, dear." Mumbling into your shoulder, presses a kiss onto your cheek and pulls you towards him, without the recollection of last night in his memory.

Sadly it wasn't mutual – the events fresh, lingering in your consciousness and the sentiments of agony rush over the spot Satoru kissed. As if he had the power to trigger that pain into you.

"You're up early, it's a Saturday." A faint smile displays on your lips, in a groggy state you lay as Satoru crushes you in his hold.

"Can't I enjoy the view?" His eyes wander over your sleepy condition and his heart clenches at the sight.

He knows it's wrong, what he's doing right now, what he's been doing for the past two years with you. But it's the closest thing he's got to keep the memory living. He knows the memory of them will never fully project itself again, especially not through your vessel.

"I guess so," you begin, "what do you want to do today?" You tap on his thigh as he hums in thought, and he gives you a reminiscent expression of when you first met.

"Why don't we have dinner today? That nice Italian place I took you that one time last year?" He sits up straight, plan already forming in his head, "We can dress up all nice and fancy, I can pretend I'm picking you up like it's first date like we did last time?"

The idea of it brings a smile and you nod in agreement as he smiles and kisses you once again, your lips connecting in synchrony, and the smack of his lips as it departs from yours.

"I just have to help Suguru with the birthday party he's planning for the girls tomorrow, I'll be back before 5:30, and I'll be all yours, yeah?"

"Of course, I'll be here waiting. Don't be late or I'll track you down." He throws his head back and laughs, promising you he'll be punctual.

–

He knocks on Suguru's door in a spritely manner, who answers, in a not so amazing mood, with pink hair clips adorning his locks, glitter ornamenting his cheekbones and lipstick smeared against his lips, clearly not aligned with his lipline.

"Need some help with that?" He points at the 'makeover' Nanako and Mimiko did, stating that he clearly needed it.

They begin filling up party bags, in casual conversation as they take the sweets and trinkets and carefully place them in the princess-themed plastic bags that said "Thank you for coming to my birthday!".

"You're in a good mood today." Suguru interrupts, and Satoru pauses as he sends a strange expression. "It's a good thing, I didn't even think you would come help today, I had Shoko on speed dial."

"Why wouldn't I come help for the girls' birthday?" With a quizzical expression, Satoru picks up another toy to place inside the goodie bag and Suguru answers.

"It's the five year anniversary today, last year you even got in a huge fight with Y/N. You seem to be doing a lot better, I'm happy you have them in your life."

He stops what he was doing, and regret rushes in. He was just thinking about Yuki, yet he lets it slips his mind that today was the day he lost them. All because he was too busy thinking about a day with you.

Satoru thinks it's cheating, betrayal on Yuki's behalf, and a crestfallen countenance appears over his face, lips downturned, eyes watering and clear. He blames it all on you, before standing up and apologising to Suguru, who's just realised that his best friend wasn't doing better at all, and leaves his house.

A flower shop, one so familiar and nostalgic. So, he steps in and recklessly buys a bouquet.

"Satoru, buying flowers for Y/N? They told me you were taking them out for dinner. I was beginning to think you were neglecting them." Shoko pops up behind him, and it worsens his day.

You're mentioned again, dampening his mood, but he feigns a smile and nods, "Yeah, thought it'd be nice to go on a date."

"Well, I'm glad. You look a lot better."

It isn't without any extra exchanges before Satoru leaves the establishment with a heavy heart and a location to be. It's cheating, he thinks, to be so focused on someone else, when his true love is waiting in an intangible realm. How could he move on and be so happy without Yuki?

And he isn't.

He appears at their gravestone, flowers in hand.

"Hey." Crouching, he settles into the grass, wiping around their name, and photo so he can clearly see it.

It's obvious their ghost haunts him, that they've laid their territory in his memory and will forever remain. There is no waking day without Yuki, and no dreaming night with them to cease. A permanent embedding of their life exists through Satoru and him alone.

There's a guilt hanging in the air as he longingly stares at their photo, realising that time will never move for them but could only continue for him. Oh, how he wished it would end.

"I'm sorry for not remembering, don't be mad at me." He takes a deep breath and a long pause. "I don't come here as much as I used to. I've been dreading it." He speaks to nothing.

"Coming here just makes me remember you're not around." The air around him responds. "I wish it was me. Maybe you could've moved on, and been in a happy relationship." He thinks of you.

"Just, let me sit here with you before I go."

–

You wait patiently, it's 5:30, and Satoru hasn't returned yet. The outfit he prepared for himself earlier in the day laid neatly and ironed on the bed, yet with no body to wear them. No Satoru.

Tapping your foot, you check your phone to see if he's responded. Only a text message from Shoko, saying she saw him at the flower shop, buying chrysanthemums. You hated chrysanthemums. But you digress, flowers are flowers, and he had you in mind.

It's 6pm, and you've found solace on the sofa, scrolling on your phone, waiting for his arrival. No Satoru.

You refrain from messaging any of his friends, so as not to raise suspicion, and you wait in torment.

Three hours pass, and no sign of Satoru, and you've already changed back into your home clothes and cosy up to the pillow as the TV plays before you. A mindless romance drama, one so corny and unrealistic that you roll your eyes and change the channel.

The door creaks open, and an absentminded, empty shell of a man you call your boyfriend walks through, with no flowers in hand. You stare as he walks straight past you, as if he never made plans in the first place.

All your hopes and dreams dissipate as he changes into his home clothes, hanging up the fancy little outfit he had prepared earlier and placing it back in the wardrobe – and your heart shatters once more. Yet you don't press him about it.

–

Taking all of your belongings and traces of your existence from his apartment, tears blinded your vision and you choked back a sob as everything had finally pieced itself together like a puzzle.

He didn't deserve this suffering, it was an unfortunate accident, one that had brought misery into his life. However, you didn't deserve this suffering either. The pain of sleeping beside a man who saw someone else in your eyes, the person he thought of as he kissed your face.

Being in love with Satoru for a year and a half had taught you many things. It taught you not to wait for someone who was already waiting for another, that you should realise you could not love someone else when you barely loved yourself.

"What are you doing?" Startled, you turn around to see the familiar face.

"Leaving." it was silent for a few moments.

"Why?"

"Because you don't love me." How immature, thought Satoru, you sounded like a child, who craved for someone's attention every time it lacked for a second.

"Who said that?"

"It doesn't need to be said, I can see it. You think I can't hear you cry at night as you call out for someone who is long gone, or how you hold me like I’m some kind of toy, there to relieve your stress? You look at me like you're waiting for a person to come through the door and kick me out. I don't want that, I’d rather leave myself."

How did you know? Was he too obvious? But you couldn't leave, no, who was he going to come home to if not you, let alone Yuki, how was he going to feel loved if there was no one there to love him in the first place?

"But you can't leave me!" He walks closer, reaching out to you for the first time in months, finally showing you an inkling of what he truly felt. Sober.

“Why? So I can continue living in their shoes? Filling the empty space they left behind?” You retort, tears brimming your eyes with a wavering voice. “It’s not fair, Toru.”

“No- it’s not like that-“ he takes a step forward.

“Yeah, then what is it like?” There’s a pregnant pause, and he shuts his mouth. “I thought so.”

“Just hear me out, please?” He begs, eyes glimmering under the yellowed light of his living room. And you nod. “I admit, when I first saw you, it reminded me of them, but the longer we were together, that association disappeared. I don’t even think about them anymore!”

“Oh, that’s just bullshit, Satoru. You don’t think I can hear you every night? Crying for them, wishing they could come back into your arms?” Sobs simply spill at this point, and there’s no control over your emotions anymore. “What does that leave me with, huh? A boyfriend who doesn’t love me, but just the appearance I symbolise? You think you’re so slick, but I know it all, the look you give me, searching for someone else in my eyes, the things you buy me, knowing they’re all for them. I’m not just some vessel for you to dump your feelings on. I’m a fucking person, your partner at that!”

“I’m just, having a hard time, I love them so much.”

He looks down, ashamed to look into your eyes, to acknowledge the pain he’s forced you through. “And I completely understand that Gojo,” calling him by his last name had never felt so nerve wracking, “you never deserved any of this. But I’m not where your grief should be placed, especially when I have no idea that this ever happened. Get some fucking therapy.”

Something inside of him snaps, and he loses control of his emotions, the colour red seeping through his line of vision, a cloud of it embossing around your figure before him.

“Me? Get therapy? You’re the fucking clingy one always wondering where I am, asking when I’m coming home. You always want to fucking talk to me, hug me and spend time with me when you fucking know I value my space.” He almost yells back.

“God, I know you want your space, I give you your fucking space that’s why you’re never around. I try to respect your boundaries so fucking much and you give me nothing back. Why are you even with me if you know so clearly that you haven’t moved on!”

“I don’t know.”

The silence returns. Alongside a gut wrenching realisation that the relationship had been one sided. It’s possible that you were catastrophising it, but your world comes crashing down, and everything you’ve ever known about love, about Satoru, dissipates the longer you stare at him. And his confidence falters.

“Alright. I’ll come back in a few days to collect anything I’ve left behind.” Your voice comes out in a shallow whisper, but loud enough for Satoru to decipher.

And he nods, again. “Okay.”

"You should give yourself time to heal, Satoru. Real time."

Deep down, you both know it's impossible.

Your footsteps recede, and slowly the volume of your shoes fade away the further you get from him, and all Satoru sees before him is the pair of slippers that you bought when you first moved in.

a/n: had this in the drafts for like two years and did nothing ab it so i'm sorry for the half assed ending its been hectic recently

©tora-ken 2024

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kazvha · 9 months ago

Note

Can you do Blue Lock Sae x female reader x Rin? The brothers are fighting for her love.

Summary: Headcanons of how Sae and Rin fight for your love

Notes: 1.4k words. The first half is about how you ended up between them and it's quite long. You can skip to "♡" for the actual "fighting"

Part 2: Choosing one of them

Plot twist: Choosing Isagi/Shidou instead of Rin or Sae

• Sae and you met coincidentally in Spain. He was there for football, while you were there on vacation. It happened in a cafe where you two ended up at the same table because any other seats were already taken. His grumpy face made you nervous at first, but your conversation sparked naturally after he saw that you ordered the same meal

• After chatting for an hour together, it was time to go for him. To your dismay, you forgot to ask for his number and even his name

• You never saw him again, even so, you thought of him every time you drank a coffee and you gave him the name "mysterious cafe guy"

• Some years later you moved to Japan. And imagine your surprise when you saw him on a big billboard modeling for some sort of perfume? Then you also found out that Sae was actually a famous football player???

• You were baffled but happy to finally put a name to the face you didn't forget after all these years

• As if some force pulled you two together, you met again by chance in a quiet cafe. At first, you weren't sure if it was him because his face was hiding behind his big hoodie and his cap. You were also hesitant since he was a famous person, but after contemplating for a few minutes, you decided to take your chance and ask him if he remembered you. After explaining how you two met in Spain, Sae nodded slowly and asked you how you've been

• Truthfully, Sae also couldn't get you off his mind. He actually developed a little crush on you and he beat himself up all these years for not asking for your contact info

• This time he just couldn't miss the opportunity to ask for your number and you happily gave it to him

• The two of you became good friends. It was a normal thing for you to text and call each other throughout the day and if Sae had some free time you hung out

• On the holidays he invited you to meet his parents with him. Rin was also home during that time, but Sae didn't pay him any mind

• The whole time you chatted with his parents, Sae stared at you. It was barely noticeable, but there was a certain fondness in his gaze

• Of course Rin noticed it. He also noticed the subtle touches Sae initiated, like poking you with his elbow or putting his hand on your shoulder

• It intrigued him that his brother was so smitten by you. What was so special about you anyway? And more importantly, will Sae get angry if he takes you away from him? Driven by his envy and his malicious thoughts, he approached you

• Your first interaction was when Sae left the table to make a phone call and you decided to go check your makeup. You asked Sae's mother where the bathroom was and she ordered Rin to show it to you so you didn't get lost in their big house. Rin frowned but grumpily stood up after some more nagging from his mom

• "It's there." He pointed to the door beside him and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. You thanked him and quickly freshened yourself up. To your surprise, Rin was still standing next to the door after you finished. "Let's go."

• He didn't say anything after that, but you appreciated him waiting for you. Your lips curled up in a little smile and you didn't notice how Rin eyed you the whole way back to the living room

• Sae scowled when he saw you two coming down the hallway together. As you took your seat beside him, his eyes didn't leave yours. "He didn't do anything, did he?"

• "What do you mean?" you replied, but Sae didn't say anything else and just coldly glared at his brother whose lips curled up into a faint smirk

• Sae brought you home afterward. He warned you to stay away from Rin because of his nasty personality, but you laughed it off saying Rin probably learned it from Sae himself

• That night you got a text from an unknown number asking you if you made it home safely. Turns out it was Rin who got your number from his mother (their mother was such a sweetheart and wanted to continue talking to you)

• You replied with yes and somehow the conversation turned from speaking about how creepy the night can be to his liking for horror games and movies. He invited you to watch one together to see if you're actually tough or you're just bluffing. You two texted for hours till you looked at the clock and saw that it was already 2 am

• Your "movie date" was more amusing than you thought it would be. If you were scared, Rin didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around you and pull you closer to his body every time a jumpscare came up. If you weren't, you two did gossip about how bad and predictable the film was. His dry comments were often so funny to you and kind of reminded you of Sae's humor. Every time you laughed or said something Rin unconsciously leaned forward

• Since the movie date was a success, you continued to spend more time together. Rin originally approached you to spite his brother, but little did he know that he himself would become so smitten with you

• When Sae found out that you hung out with his little brother he was furious, which you didn't understand at all. He refused to tell you why he disliked Rin, and it was the same case with his brother. Rin avoided the topic every time you brought it up

♡ You found yourself between the brothers:

• Sae cleared his schedule much more than before to spend more time with you than you do with Rin. He liked to impress you with gifts like cute jewelry he discovered on his travels

• Whenever Rin saw the jewelry on you, he had to fight the urge to rip it off. Another solution he came up with was to simply buy you better gifts

• One time he bought you a ring and you thanked him, but he just answered "I'm glad you like it. Now you don't have to wear this ugly anymore." and took Sae's ring off your finger

• You found yourself rotating your jewelry every time you saw one of the brothers after Sae disappointedly asked you where his ring was one day

• If the two brothers were in the same space with you, each one wouldn't take their gaze off of you. If one brother was spending too much time with you, the other one would stare at you with a frown and would try to think of ways to separate you

• Rin loved to fluster you. It could be leaning in too close to attentively listen to what you have to say. Lingering touches when you two were play fighting. Leaning his head on your shoulder when he felt tired after training. Sharing the same drink

• Sae tried to sway you with other actions like you being the first one he visits after his travels. Genuinely complimenting you. Also genuinely reprimanding you when he thinks you do something dumb. Giving you a tight hug you feel down.

• Both of them were aware that their war for your love and affection was childish but neither wanted to stop

• Despite their grudges against each other, the brothers played in the same soccer team. Each match was another headache for you because Sae and Rin both always tried to convince you to wear their jersey with their own name and number

• Your last straw was after a particular match. You got a message from Sae who asked you if you wanted to come over to the hotel where he was staying. He wanted to tell you something important

• Before you could answer him, you received another text from Rin who called you over to the park where he was currently at. He also said there was something important you would like to hear

• You knew you had to decide between Sae and Rin one day. You weren't dumb, you noticed how the Itoshi brothers both looked at you and treated you well. But you hesitated to go one step further since that meant the other brother would be heartbroken and it would risk your friendship. Could you even cope with that?

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi rin

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sugudoe · 5 months ago

Text

➥ ──── THE OTHERS ‼️ OUCH. . . ღ

shoko ieiri is a med student and long time friend of gojo and geto. she is the one that instigated satoru to create mib, thinking it was just a funny and stupid idea, and was surprised when he actually went along with it. although not a member, shoko is a very special someone to all the boys, there is a room only for her, but she still rather be in the college dorms. she is close to nanami, they study together in coffee shops, and sukuna, since she started to take care of his bruises after the fights. many mib’s fans are jealous of her and send a lot of hate, but shoko is not bothered by them, instead she had her instagram turned private and charges 10 dollars for anyone that wants exclusive pictures of the boys. the fire picture is gojo and shiu, and the bras are ino and nanami.

inumaki toge is yn’s younger brother. they love each other very much, but they barely interact on campus, still yn loves to walk past him and shuffle his hair, and toge likes to slap her neck softly. first time he did this, hakari almost beat him, now they are really good friends. toge is a programming student, but his passion is playing games, he helped his sister get her set up to play the sims because yn bough his, much more expensive and he is scared of asking where did the money come from. he started dating okkotsu yuta recently but rather not expose much, fearing it might make his sister sad that he is dating while she is single. if she ever finds out, he will mock her, so he has been softly launching yuta.

okkotsu yuta is a biomedicine student, he uses his instagram to post pictures he took with the old camera he thrifted some years ago, people really like his photos and vintage style. he has a calm vibe, but in reality yuta is nearly crawling the walls with his anxiety for anything, specially a new year beginning. luckily for him, yuta has friends that love him and a boyfriend that calms him down. he loves the beach, to make poems and to go on dates with toge, just the two of them and yuta gets happy right away.

yaga kumia, also nicknamed panda by everyone because of his obsession with the animal since a baby (he had a sweater he used everyday when he was five) is the son of jujutsu tech’s principal, yaga masamichi. he studies mass communication, and all his friends says that is because he is a gossiper and a talkative asshole. still — he is a fucking legend. gojo plans on having him becoming a mib’s member, but panda’s dad would interrupt it right away. the boy has no self control or filter, he does what he likes if he feel like it, he got into his group of friends because of maki, toge and yuta, who he has met a year prior and thought they were nice. most people want to be close to him because of his dad, so he is very hard to actually get approached to. still, he also wants to be a part of mib, just need to find the right time.

zen’in maki is the younger cousin of toji, she studies biomedicine with yuta, and wants to work making lotion and healing creams for burned victims, like herself. when she was younger, her house burned down, and maki saved her twin at the cost of scars on her whole body. at first she used to hide them with baggy clothes, but nowadays she doesn’t mind and if anyone stares, her girlfriend will bark at them. maki is very laid back, still, she is a very awkward person, making random comments and acting weird. she made her move on nobara by telling her facts of history and serial killers, also flexing her muscles nonchalant, and nobara matched her with what she knew of fashion. two weird babies sharing half a brain.

nobara kugisaki is the goat. anywhere she goes, all eyes go straight to her. being a fashion student was predestined for her, everyone could sense that a mile away. she has lived in japan her whole life, going to high school with yuji and megumi, and she will refuse to admit she was third wheeling every hangout. yuji is and always will be her test subject, he lets her dye his hair to match hers and do his nails and colorful eyeliners. she calls herself his sister, and sukuna rolls his eyes at that every time, but him and choso know for a fact she is their little sister as well. kugisaki is obsessed with her senior, kirara, and whenever they share classes or a conversation the girl melts, kira thinks she is adorable. nobara is a hard kpop girl, and obsessed with NCT and StrayKids. she saw maki once and thought “that’s mine” and she accomplished her mission in less than a week.

gojo megumi is the younger adopted brother of satoru, they might not look alike physically, but the longer in their presence the more they start to become the same person, and megumi pretends he hates that. he likes to hide himself whenever his brother is near, while itadori and nobara will call satoru’s attention to him. megumi studies business administration like his brother, because one day he is going to own half of gojo’s enterprise. his favorite hobbies are staying in bed with yuji (his not yet boyfriend), his dogs and any classical book. the arm cast photo is a drawing he made when itadori broke his arm, megumi is very talented with art. he had to priv his account because mib’s fans were sending him a lot of messages and it was annoying.

itadori yuji studies physical education, he is a basketball player and has been for many years now. the boy is the biggest fan of megan thee stallion, and yes he fought nobara for that spot. besides that he also adores miles morales, watch horror movies and to go out every weekend. he begged megumi for the matching cats icon, and it’s a lie that meg monitors his instagram, still, the boy doesn’t complain to have itadori’s passwords. he was very happy that nobara started to date maki and the friend group merged, because he wanted to be friends with panda and toge for a very long time. cutie. he is apparently the only friend yorozu has, but she can get really annoying when her talk subjects always go to his brothers and their friends.

orimoto yorozu is a sound engineer student, she met yuji because they share a few classes together and when she learned of his family, she glued to his side. yorozu mostly keeps to herself unless she wants something from someone (like when she tried to flirt with panda because they were the single ones of the group, and he rejected her after the first date), so she doesn’t mind when the group forgets to call her for some hangout or party, much rather staying at home on social media. she has been following some people from college on their instagram and twitter, and changing her style every two weeks. she is very cute looking, but there has always been something off about her. still, no one but nobara dares to admit it.

. ֺ﹢ a. note: this is me begging y’all to not pay attention to panda’s name, it’s kuma (bear in japanese) but written differently, eugh. like the others, this pictures are just for reference, except for nobara, that’s my canon kugisaki. starting to realize i did this whole thing for characters that aren’t that important… yet… AND yorozu is based on the bad looking bitch yorozu + rika, took two evil queenies and made a weirdo, gotta love it.

🏷️ 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @ducky1232 @mfcherry @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @makeshiftproject @poopooindamouf @ventila98 @faithums @lvingd3adg0rl @prettynai @r0ckst4rjk @lunavelha @catobsessedlady @luvvmae @sjndvi @punkhazardlaw @lemonnotade @luvmeadow @tired-jaz @csxmxx @serenadesvt

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lssugaluv · 6 months ago

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What they do to stay up to wait for you to get home.

• Haikyuu x Fem Reader

• Haikyuu headcannons.

• Hakyuu Timeskip.

• Characters: Kuroo, Atsumu, & Sugawara.

• Synopsis; You decide to go out for the first time in a long time with your friends & sister. Your boyfriend/husband is not used to you being gone so long and tries his best to wait for you to get home back to him.

• Contains; fluff <3

• Atsumu is married to you and you both have one son.

• Kuroo is your long term boyfriend.

• Suga is your husband and you two are newlyweds.

Suga

You and Suga are about six months into your marriage. It’s been such a beautiful thing. Being able to sleep by each other’s side every night, waking up to him every morning. Being able to cook dishes for him, being able to experience life together with your soulmate. It’s like if the two of you had this small bubble in your own home and it was just the two of you. Until your two high school besties have been trying to get you to go out with them for the longest.

Suga has been encouraging you to go out but you just don’t have the courage to leave him alone, even if it is for a couple of hours. But the day comes where you actually did agree to go shop and to go eat to catch up with the girls. Before you left, you do an outfit check with Suga. “You look gorgeous in that yellow dress sweetheart.” He hugs you and swiftly gives you a small peck on the side of your forehead.

You leave at 4 p.m. and do not come back until 10:34 p.m. You and Suga are usually in bed no later than 9. (Yes I know, a small pair of old people.) You open the door to your house and remove your shoes. You hear nothing but snores coming from your kitchen. As you quietly walk towards the kitchen, you see your husband asleep on the kitchen table with two empty cups of coffee.

You gently move his shoulder to wake him up. “Baby.. wake up.” As he slowly opens an eye, he jumps up and hugs you tight. “I’m glad you’re home safe.” You both go to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. As you both lay in bed he says, “I tried to stay awake y/n to wait for you but the coffee did not help.” You laugh as you cuddle yourself next to him. “I love you Suga.”

Kuroo

You and Kuroo made this agreement 5 years ago before you moved in together. That when one of you needed space, it was okay to go out with friends. You both shared the same group of friends but of course you loved for Kuroo to have guy time as for you to have girl time. The only thing is that your boyfriend always loves to be with you. Yes, he agrees that it is good to have space once in a while, but he doesn’t know what to do when you’re gone for a couple of hours.

Your friends planned a beach day to Kamikura, Japan. You all live in Tokyo so it’ll be about an hour drive. You get all your things ready the night before. Kuroo walks into your shared room and stands by the door with his arms crossed. “Do you have to leave me?” You look at him with a gentle smile, “baby, it’s just for half of the day. I will be back.” You start to walk towards him. “I know, I was just joking. I want you to have fun, you deserve it.” You wrap your arms around him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

You and your four friends leave around 9 in the morning and arrive to the beach almost at 11 am. You guys take thirst traps in your bikinis (you had a one piece) as you guys have fun running in the waves. You all got to tan together and lay on your towels watching the sun set. It was great.

You get home until 1 a.m, (I know, time flew) You walk into your apartment and all the lights are off. The only thing you see is a bright light coming from the living room. As you approach the living room you see a bright light and hear noise coming from the television. You see your Kuroo sound asleep with the blanket on the ground alongside the remote. He has his phone on and you can see he was watching your location. You then turn to the tv and see he has Bridgerton season 2 on. You were complaining to him that he needed to catch up because you wanted to watch the newest season with him. Your heart almost popped out of your chest. You wake him up, turn the tv off and walk together side by side to your room.

Atsumu

You and your friends have been dying to go see Fujii Kaze in concert. That was when your bestie sent to your group chat a screenshot of his tour dates and you literally screamed your head off. Before you bought the ticket, you had to check in with your hubby first.

Atsumu was sitting on the couch watching a replay of his recent game while baby Atsumu was doing tummy time. You pick up the baby and sit next to Atsumu. “Babe. So in a month from now, Fujii Kaze is coming to Japan and the girls and I want to go. But I want to check if it is not a day that you’re gone for a game.” He pauses the game on the tv and pulls out his phone to check the date. “Baby, you’re one lucky girl. We are off that weekend so I can stay with the baby as well.” He smiles at you and takes the baby into his arms. “You’re going to get the room seats right?” You look at him and curiously smile. “We actually want to go to the floor.” … “well baby, I’m okay with it but I also want you girls safe. Remember you are the wife of Japan’s number one team and setter.” He winks at you and you roll your eyes and giggle. “I know Tsumu but we really want to be on the floor.” … “okay but can you take one body guard? I’ll make the arrangements and I’ll feel better like that.” You agree and thank him with a kiss on the lips.

The day has came for the concert as you dress in some baggy pleather pants with a white corset top. Your hair is waved out in curls with a braid crown and light makeup. Atsumu of course has to praise you and prize you with a huge smack on your ass before you leave. “Have fun sweetheart.” He kisses you and you kiss the baby goodbye.

You get home around 1:30 in the morning after singing your heart out and having some drinks after the concert. You come home to Atsumu and baby Atsumu on the couch sleeping. Your heart completely gushes out of love for this beautiful sight. Atsumu heard you come in and slowly opens his eyes. “Welcome home angel.” He gently smiles at you as you gently pick up the baby from his arms. He gets up and hug you from behind wrapping his arms around your belly. “I missed you. We tried to stay up to wait for you but we both got sleepy after playing on the playground in the backyard.” You smile and snug your baby, “oh I missed the both of you. Let’s go to bed.”

Afterthoughts:

• The sleeping pictures of Suga, Kuroo and Atsumu are NOT mine. I found them on Pinterest, so credit to their creators.

• I tried my best to find a picture of sleeping Atsumu and this was the best I could find.

• I was inspired to write this because I recently went to a concert with my sister and when I got home, my husband was sleeping on the couch waiting for me <3

• I hope you enjoy!

• Please like, comment, and reblogg.

• Not proofread. :(

• Please do not copy my work!

~ love, Lssugaluv

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carecaro · 2 years ago

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Itsukushima

#cozy #photography #cozy aesthetic #cozy space #coffee #cafe #coffee shop #coffee aesthetic #coffee tumblr #coffee house #japan #miyajima #itsukushima #japan cafe #japan coffee

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

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Prove Your Worth to Me (Brat-tamer!CEO!Nanami x Bratty!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.”

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you apply for a sectorial job, but the interview process is a lot more intense than you bargained for.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Nanami; sub!Reader; Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Dubcon; Coercion; Brat-taming; Mild BDSM; Bondage; Degradation & Praise; Semi-Clothed Sex; Deepthroating; Hair-Pulling; Spitting; Mutual Oral; Doggystyle Over the Desk; Nanami Talks on the Phone While He F*cks You; Edge Play; Namecalling; Unprotected Creampie; Facial; PLOT TWIST

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: This is how I'm coping. Rest in peace, Kento. You were the best man & the best baby daddy ever. Imma come & help you build that house on the beach -Jazz 💋💋

********

You sit in the waiting room in the pristine office, your fingers clutching your bag to stop your hands from shaking.

You're so nervous. Job interviews always seem to do damage to your nerves and confidence, even though you’ve done them many, many times before.

‘This is no different,’ you think to yourself, practicing the mantra you’ve had in your head for a week preparing for this interview. ‘It’s just an interview. He’s just a person. You are confident, intelligent, and a boss ass bitch, whether you get this job or not.’

But fuck, you hope you get it. It’s a really good position: a secretarial/assistant position for Kento Nanami, the CEO of Nanami Enterprises which specializes in human resources, charitable work, and citywide issues. Mr. Nanami is well-known throughout Japan as an entrepreneur and a very generous man, rich in intelligence and skills as well as money.

Seriously, the man is loaded. He is in every magazine, including Forbes, and has traveled all across the world closing business deals.

He is also extremely handsome. You’ve seen his face many times in the media with his sharp jaw, intense eyes, and neatly-cut blonde hair. You’ve heard he is taller in person (and bigger at that). You’ve seen him at press conferences and dinner parties, photographed in his expensive suits or even coming off of a private jet in his sunglasses, a permanent, stoic expression on his face. You’ve wondered many times what he looks like out of his designer clothes as any woman would to an attractive man.

But now that you’re about to meet him, all of this hits you much differently. Now that you’re sitting here in his pristine waiting room with its coffee machines and packaged snacks for clients and hearing the buzz of work activity–phones ringing; heels clicking across the floor, etc.–makes your heart scatter in your chest. Your palms sweat so frequently that you have to wipe them off on your pencil skirt every five minutes. You don’t know if you can handle any of this.

And you hate feeling this way. You know how good you are with job interviews. Every one you’ve sat for after applying, you’ve received. You take pride in the way you’re perceived, especially when it comes to appearance. Though your interview is at 10am today, you woke up at damn near the ass crack of dawn and primped yourself. You ironed your outfit, choosing a cream-colored blouse that you tucked into your pencil skirt, nylon stockings, and heels. You curled your hair. You spritzed on sweet-smelling perfume. You even planned your makeup look several days beforehand which has been executed well.

You look good…but you don't feel good. How are you possibly supposed to nail this interview if you can’t even stop your hands from shaking? “Stop it,” you hiss to yourself, glad that you’re the only one in the waiting room. “You will get this job. You deserve this job.”

And it sounds like a good job position. Like, one that any person would strive to possess in this materialistic world where capitalism rules the earth. You found it on Glassdoor and as soon as you read the description and qualifications (a college degree, certain skills, attitude, etc.), you applied.

As a secretary working here, you would be working closely with Nanami as his personal assistant to help him take care of his work and anything he doesn’t have a chance to get to, such as scheduling appointments and meetings for him, and attending them in some cases, making and taking calls, and other office and secretarial work. The pay is much better than your current job that you desperately want to leave.

You’re tired of working underneath an asshole who only cares about his money and could give less of a shit about his employees or their issues.

Were you expecting Maki, one of Nanami’s assistants, to reach out to you? Definitely not. But here you are, sitting primped, polished, and positively terrified two weeks later after receiving that joyous email for an interview. You just hope you can hold onto your wits and–

“Ms. L/N?” You startle at the sound of your last name and look up into the eyes of Maki from behind her glasses. She stands at the threshold of the waiting room in a black turtleneck and slacks that hug her toned frame. You can already tell she has every man in here simping for her. “Mr. Nanami is ready for you now,” she says. Though she doesn’t smile, her tone is warm. “I have to deliver something, so one of his other assistants will walk you to his office.”

“T-Thank you,” you say, cringing slightly at your stutter. If Maki notices, she doesn’t act as if she does and doesn’t mention it. She leads you halfway across the hallway to introduce you to Mai, a shorter version of Maki with no glasses, short hair, and wearing a low-cut red blouse that probably would drive any guy crazy. “Gosh, you are gorgeous!” She gushes as soon as she sees you. “And your hair looks fabulous. You’d definitely turn heads here.”

You smile bashfully while Maki rolls her eyes. “Can you please just take her to Nanami’s office for her interview?” she sighs. “You know he hates lateness.” She gives you a nod then, her eyes kind despite how intense they seem. “Good luck, Ms. L/N,” she says before heading off to do her work, her hips swaying in her slacks.

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Mai giggles as she presses a button to one of the elevators next to you. “That’s my sister. She’s always that sweet and bubbly.” She gives you a wink. You giggle to yourself, deciding you like both of them and you wonder what the rest of the team here is like.

Mai presses the elevator button to the upper floor and leads you inside the damning doors that automatically shut once you are both inside. Silence swells around the tiny box and you can hear your heart pumping madly in your head. You see Mai look at you out of your peripheral version. “Nervous?” she asks. You give her a sheepish smile. “Does it show?” you chuckle.

“He really isn’t a tough guy,” Mai says, contrary to what you think. “He just likes everything to be perfect and detailed, right down to the T. Judging by your resume, I think you’re fit for the job!” She gives you a bright, comforting smile that is impossible to ignore or not feel. You thank her for the compliment, feeling somewhat better. One the elevator doors open on the floor, she walks you down the pristine hallway with marble walls and grey carpeting until you come to two oak double doors.

Mai smiles at you despite you wanting to book it. “Right this way,” she says, motioning to the door. “This is his office right here.” She knocks for you three times, loud and clear. “Come in,” a deep, clear voice calls out. It sends shivers down your spine. Maki opens the door then and it’s like the gates of Hell opening for you.

You are met with a gorgeous, spacious office that is fit for a CEO. On one side is a lounging space with a flat-screened TV, black leathered seats, and a bookcase filled with books of all genres and kinds. On the other is a kitchenette with all stainless steel appliances, including a fridge, freezer, microwave, dishwasher and dryer, and a mini bar where a bottle of scotch and a wine rack sit. In the middle sits a wide, polished, oak desk with a large glass window overlooking the city where a man sits behind his laptop and a mug of coffee.

A very handsome man at that. His jaw is sharp, his face slim, not a stitch of facial hair anywhere on his face. His blonde hair is combed and styled perfectly almost if he purposely styled each strand. When he looks up, you’re taken aback by not only his looks but the aura he gives off. It is powerful and intimidating despite his calm and cool demeanor. It’s only intensified by the gray suit jacket he wears over a crisp blue button-up shirt that he’s paired with matching slacks, red bottom shoes, and a yellow, leopard-printed tie. You nearly giggle at the way the tie stands out against the rest of his outfit, giving him a hint of personality.

When his green eyes meet yours from across the room, you feel all of the air in your body leave you. A current of electricity courses from your body to his, making the room feel tense despite the coolness of the office. He gives you a stoic expression as if he is irritated that he was interrupted. “Your 10 o’clock is here, sir!” Mai brightly announces. “For Y/N L/N?”

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Ah, yes,” he replies. He stands from his desk, giving you a chance to see how tall he is. The man is nearly six foot! You swear that you nearly fall out right there. “My interview. Thank you, Mai, that will be all.”

Mai respectfully bows before turning on her heel to face you. “Good luck,” she whispers with a wink before closing the door behind you. Then it’s just you and him. You stand near the door while Nanami comes around the front of the desk, still keeping that same cool, blank expression. You feel like a deer who is being sized up for dinner by a lion. “So you’re here,” he says. “And only two minutes late.”

You feel embarrassment flood you, making you hot all over you. You know he’s testing you, trying to make you break right off the bat…but you won’t let him. You clear your throat and meet him halfway, putting your hand out for a shake. “Mr. Nanami,” you calmly say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I arrived here ten minutes early than my scheduled time, but one of your assistants had to leave me for work duties.” You give him a smile as the cherry on top. ‘See? I’m good.’

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly, obviously impressed by your quick-wittedness and ability to read the room. “Not bad,” he praises you. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. L/N.” His larger hand meets yours, giving you a chance to feel his calloused palm and thick fingers. You try to avoid thinking about them around your neck. “Please, have a seat.”

He motions to the cushioned seats in front of you while he takes his seat behind his desk, shutting his laptop. "You’ll have to forgive me for my tartness. I had a no-show earlier for an 8 o’clock meeting and I’m not a man of those.” You nod understandably. “It’s okay,” you say. “I can understand that. I’ve never been a fan of no-shows either.” You cross your legs as you sit, folding your hands in your lap.

“Are you referring to your current job as a research assistant?” he questions. The corner of his lips twitch at the look of shock you give him. You damn near forgot where you work at! “I did my studying for today. Your resume is very interesting.” Interesting. You don’t know whether to be happy with that statement or nervous. “Oh…thank you. I actually have it here with me as a copy.”

You go into your bag where you retrieve a folder and several copies of your resume. You pass one to Nanami who barely cracks a smile at the fact that you are prepared. He must be trying to size you up, see if you’re fit for the position. You watch him read over the paper, his index finger dragging over each section.

“So you graduated with a 3.8 GPA with a Bachelor’s Degree in marketing and communications,” he points out. You nod, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Yes, originally, I was studying political science, but I changed my major during my sophomore year.”

“May I ask why?” he asks, raising a curious eyebrow. You’re more than happy to give him an answer. “Politics can become too messy in my opinion, not to mention that the major was extremely competitive. I was also working as an intern at the time and on the–“

“Cheerleading team,” he finishes. “Yes, that’s listed here in your extra curriculum activities, but you left the team during your senior year, it appears.” He gives you a sharp look that is pushing you to give him an explanation. Your brain grasps for straws. “Um…senior year is a busy time for all students,” you quickly explain. “At the time, I was just trying to finish school so I could graduate on time, which I accomplished, fortunately.”

Nanami only gives a “huh” at this which isn’t the response you are looking for. “Huh” as in “oh, that’s interesting” or “huh” as in “this bitch isn’t reliable and can’t handle shit when shit gives tough”?

“Let’s talk about your current position.” He folds his big, calloused hands on top of his desk, on your resume. “It seems like a promising position. Why do you want to leave there and come work here?”

You sit up straight, happy that you practiced for this exact question. “Well, I just believe it’s time for me to move onto something new; preferably onto a new company that has a diverse team and benefits for its employees. I believe that your company does so.” Nanami leans forward slightly, peering deep into the recesses of your soul behind his spectacles. “So what exactly do you think you can offer this company, Ms. L/N?” he asks. “Or more specifically, what can you offer me?”

Your stomach drops. You didn’t practice for this question. “U-Um…I’m a quick learner,” you reply, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. “I’m not afraid to ask questions if I’m unsure, but I’m also not afraid to lean on myself for answers. I work well independently as well as in a team. I’m hardworking, determined, and detail-oriented. I’m also willing to do whatever work is necessary to succeed.”

Nanami’s eyebrows raise once more. “Whatever work necessary?” he parrots, quiet interest in his tone. “Elaborate on that for me. What kind of work or things would you be willing to do in order to succeed at this company, Ms. L/N?”

Your brain begins to jump from place to place, grabbing at whatever. “Staying longer hours,” you decide. “I know this is a 9-5 position, but if you ever needed me to stay longer to get a head start on work or complete something, I’d be willing to do so. I’m also good at creating Powerpoint presentations for meetings. A-And I’m well-organized.” Now you’re stuttering. Stumbling over your answers. You’re fucking up! He’s going to see your nervous and unconfident and put you on the chopping block!

Nanami stares you down for a moment longer, making you feel like you’re on trial and he’s a judge, before leaning back in his seat. He places his hands in his lap, ever poised and sexy. “Hm,” he hums. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to stay longer hours, Ms. L/N, I will be honest with you: you’re not the first person who I’ve interviewed who gave me all of this jargon in hopes of getting the position and then didn’t deliver on any of their promises or skills.”

You nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, gripping your hands to force them to stop shaking. “I’m sure you have,” you quietly reply, “but I’m also sure I can change your mind and prove that I’m worthy of this position, Mr. Nanami.”

Something sparkles in Nanami’s forest-green eyes and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Worthy?” he questions. “That’s a new one: worthy.” He tests it out on his tongue as if it’s a new kind of food. Something foreign to him. He leans towards you once more, placing his hands on the desk. “Well, let me ask you this: do you think that you’re confident enough to work beside me if you do happen to get this position? Because from what I’m seeing, you’re not.”

You’re so busy thinking about how handsome he is that you nearly miss his criticism. But when you catch it, you feel cold like you were just dunked in a pool of ice. You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” you ask, squinting at him.

Nanami barely reacts to your reaction. “You stutter a lot,” he bluntly points out. “Whether out of habit or because you’re nervous which shows the employer, which is me, that you’re not confident in your words or thoughts. Then it’s in your body language: your shoulders are up by your ears and obviously tense, your skin is flushed, and your hands are shaking.”

And he’s right. You can feel how tense and hot you are; how shaky and unbalanced you feel. You feel like crawling under the chair you’re sitting in and hiding from his scrutiny. But you also won’t allow him to expose you like this. “Well, I would think that nervousness is a common human emotion,” you retort.

He nods, giving you a point for your fairness. “It is…but judging by your resume, I’m sure you’ve sat through many job interviews, and got the jobs as I’m seeing here.” He takes his glasses off, revealing his naked eyes to you. “So what makes this one so different? Why are you so nervous to be here with me today?”

You can tell he’s trying hard to make you crack. He’s trying to see if you’re able to handle the pressure. Though you feel nervous and embarrassed, you also feel incredibly pissed. How dare you try to grill you like this? You can’t let him win this. You won’t. “Mr. Nanami,” you carefully say, your tone calm yet firm, “I understand what you’re trying to do here, but I’m not really appreciating it. It seems like more of a grilling session than a job interview. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about the job?”

Nanami barely even blinks. “We have,” he replies. “And now I’m trying to decide if you are seriously fit for such a position. I take my work very seriously, Ms. L/N, and I need to be sure that you will take my work, as well yours, seriously as well. I can’t have you cracking under pressure or second-guessing things. Those are all signs of being unconfident.” He leans forward, squinting his eyes at you. “Now, do you think you can handle it?” he questions.

You want to say yes, but you know he’ll argue with you. He’ll come up with all kinds of logic to tell you why you aren’t qualified for this position. So you keep quiet instead, just staring him down and forcing yourself to not look away. The more you stare, the hotter you get until you realize that it’s not out of embarrassment. This heat is out of attraction. Despite your anger, he’s just so goddamn fine! So you look down at your shoes, too afraid for him to see your true feelings under the anger.

Finally, Nanami heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see it,” he sighs. “I’m afraid this is where we–“

“What?” you snap, causing him to stop short. You glare at him, enraged. “That’s it? You bring me in here for an interview just to tell me you’re not hiring me because you don’t think I’m confident?” You square your jaw at him and put a hand to your chest. “I am confident,” you hiss. “If you let me show you, I can prove it to you, Mr. Nanami.”

Now, Nanami smirks. It's rousing and mocking, angering you even more. “Oh,” he nearly chuckles. “So now you want to look at me. And your emotions are easily roused which could complicate your work if you were to work here.”

The room has gotten too hot. Too tense. You can’t handle this. If you’re here any longer, you’ll surely jump over this desk and wring his thick neck. “You know what?” you scoff haughtily. “I don’t need to sit here and be criticized like this. I may want this job, but I don’t want it that much to allow myself to be grilled like this.” You abruptly stand from your chair, nearly knocking it over. He looks up at you, his expression cool.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Nanami,” you nearly growl. “Have a good day.” You then whip around to storm out of the office, prepared to leave and never return.

“Stop.” The command cuts through the air along with Nanami’s deep voice. You do so and turn to face him, confused. He is still sitting down, his steely eyes glaring at you from across the room. “Sit down,” he orders. You gawk at him. Is he serious right now? “Why?” you cackle. “So you can go and grill me some more on why I’m not a good candidate for this position? Thanks, but no–“

“I said.” The sound of his chair squeaking across the floor stops you short. He stands behind his desk, blocking the window with his big, tall frame. His expression is dark and intimidating, his eyes daring you to argue with him again. “Sit. Down. Y/N.” His tone is hard as steel with a slight undercurrent of a growl underneath.

You stand there, taken aback at his change in demeanor. And even more so in the way it makes you feel. You feel tingly and hot, specially between your legs. Nanami continues to stare at you, silently daring you to disobey his order. Against your better judgement, you slowly walk back over to his desk on legs that feel like Jell-O and sit down. Your eyes find your shoes again, afraid to look into his as he sits back down behind his desk.

“You really think you got it like that?” he asks. “You really think that you have what it takes to work for me? With me?” Your heart flips wildly at his questions and the roughness to his tone. He seems so calm and collected. Who the fuck is this? “Answer the question,” he demands.

You swallow roughly before opening your mouth. “Yes,” you breathlessly reply.

That is all Nanami needs to hear. He stands again, coming around the desk to stand beside you. You tremble, harshly biting your lip. “You said you’d prove to me your confidence and other assets that you can bring to this position if I let you.”

Zzzzip. The familiar sound of a zipper coming down stops you short. You turn your head toward him in time to see his hips and crotch in your face and his hands working his belt off. “Well, now I’m letting you.” Your eyes follow his hands as he shrugs his pants down his waist before reaching into his Armani briefs to reveal his throbbing, hard, veiny cock to you. “Show me what you mean, Ms. L/N. Prove to me your worth.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. This can’t be…he isn’t…he can’t… “W-What is this?” you gasp. “Mr. Nanami, you can’t–“

“Can’t what?” he asks. You look up at him, seeing nothing but molten lust in his eyes. “Don’t act as if you weren't hoping I’d do this to you. You wore that skirt and those heels for an obvious reason than to just seem presentable.” He nods at your outfit, making you feel ashamed. “And don't think I didn’t catch the way you looked at me when you walked in or the way you kept crossing and uncrossing your legs under the table. You’re fucking feening right now, aren't you, brat?”

Brat. The name and the sharpness of his tone makes your stomach flip. “What?” you squeak. “I’m not a–“

“Talking back too?” he tsks. He places a hand on the back of your hair, near your scalp. “That just won’t do. A girl like you needs to be put in her place, don’t you agree?” He places his other hand on his cock, slowly pumping the hardened shaft in your face. “This is your decision, Y/N,” he huskily says. “If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.”

Your eyes tick from him to his cock, back and forth like ping pong balls. You weigh your options carefully: if you say no, you’re out of a really good job and will be forced to return to the dreaded application process, but if you say yes, you’ll be nothing but a cock-sucking slut. What if he doesn’t even give you the job?

“So what’s it gonna be, little girl?” Nanami hums. Looking back down at his cock, you take your chances. You wrap one tentative hand around the base of his dick, causing him to shimmy closer to you so he’s closer to your mouth. You then begin pressing light kisses around the head and length of his cock, feeling how warm his skin is against your lips. “There we are,” he softly moans. “Good girl.”

The praise causes your pussy to twitch in delight and you find yourself beginning to lick up and down his long cock while your hands pump the base. He feels so heavy and thick in your hand. As you do this, soft moans drip from Nanami’s lips, deep and arousing. Your tongue and soft hands on him cause him to reach into his briefs to pull out his heavy balls, letting them hang as you continue to pump him. Your mind is racing, your eyes moving to the door ever so often.

Nanami catches you and chuckles to himself. “Don’t worry; my door has an automatic lock. Maki was only able to open it because I left it unlocked in the case of an appointment….or in the case of visits from horny little sluts like you.”

You whimper at his degrading words, still slobbering along his cock and wetting it with your saliva. Finally, Nanami stops you and takes your chin into his hand, forcing you to look up at him. “So if I were to tell you that I was stressed and in need of relieving, what would you say to that?” he asks. The question would sound random to anyone else, but you know what he means right off the bat.

So you give him the answer he is searching for: “I’d ask if I could help you,” you softly reply, your voice breathy and soft. Nanami’s cock twitches in response. “Then show me,” he demands, taking his cock and gently smacking the head against your chin. “Open your mouth for me, brat.”

And you do so. As soon as your open your mouth, Nanami is hypnotized by your tongue and thick, juicy lips spread open for him. He angles his hips towards your mouth and slowly pushes inside, groaning as he does. “Christ!” he grunts, gripping the back of your head. “Your mouth is so tight and wet, darling.”

Your moans are muffled as his cock slides into your mouth, stretching out your jaw. Your eyes, stinging with tears, widen at how large he is. You’ve never had a cock this big in your mouth before. Your eyes tick up at Nanami, watching as he strips himself of his suit jacket before unbuttoning his shirt. He reveals his bare, toned chest and hard, pink nipples as he begins to roll his hips against your mouth, forcing you to take more of him. “Come on, brat,” he demands. “Take my cock. Isn’t this what you were after?”

His shaft slides against your tongue, filling your mouth and senses with nothing but the salty taste of his pre-cum, the scent of his cologne in your nostrils, and the feeling of his hand gripping the back of your head. He pushes you down onto his cock, forcing himself into your throat. A gargled moan leaves your lips as he throws his head back and groans at the feeling of being trapped inside your hot, tight throat. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay?” he coos.

He then begins to slowly roll his hips against your mouth, causing his cock to plunge in and out of your throat, getting deeper each time. His heavy balls swing against your chin, becoming wet with the spit that has begun to pool and drip over your lips. Nanami tuts at the sight of you being a slobbery, sloppy mess for him as he fucks your face. “Such a mess,” he sighs. “Just a dirty, bratty little slut, doesn’t even know how to keep herself clean.”

He wraps a hand around your braids and forces your head back, yanking his cock out of your mouth. You gasp at the sharp sting coming from your scalp. “You want this?” he murmurs, staring down at you. “You want this cock? Tell me no and I’ll stop.” Your eyes stare at the cock, now shining in your saliva, bobbing in front of you. Your pussy clenches impatiently in your panties, gushing all in the cotton article of clothing. You want this. You want him. “Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I want your cock. Please give it to me, sir.”

Nanami closes his eyes and inhales as if your words are a drug that he just got a hit of. “Call me Kento, darling,” he says as he plunges his cock back into your mouth. “Though ‘sir’ does sound quite nice.” He begins to thrust his hips roughly into your mouth, fucking your throat like it is his own personal toy. “It’d be a…fuck…a joy to hear you call me that every single day I…shit, darling…come in here. Even better to hear you moan it. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Your words are a garbled, mumbling mess around his cock, your voice taken from the sound the lewd, sloppy sounds leaving your lips as he mercilessly fucks your throat. You gag and spit around his shaft, earning praise by his orgasmic moans and grunts. The more he fucks your mouth, the harder his grip on your hair gets until you can feel your scalp burning. But you endure it. You also find yourself enjoying the bite of pain along with the feeling of being used. This is so degrading: being used as a fuck toy in such a way.

And you love every second of it.

“Fuck!” Nanami growls, finally pulling his throbbing cock out of your mouth. It bobs against your lips before he pulls away, slowly pumping the appendage in your face. You gasp, finally free to breathe. You are a complete mess, saliva dripping down your chin and staining your blouse; hair askew; makeup ruined. The blonde man stares down at you, your hair still wrapped in his fist. “Look at you,” he huffs. “You’re a fucking mess. Came in here all pretty just to get ruined by me, didn’t you?”

You whimper at his words, your pussy tingling. His thumb moves across your plump lower lip, spreading the saliva across your lips. “Oh…does my little brat love being degraded?” Hot embarrassment makes you flush. “N-No, I–“

You’re silenced by Nanami’s hand squeezing your cheeks, causing your lips to pucker. “Lying?” he sharply asks, his gaze dark. “You have the nerve to fix your mouth to say that shit to me yet your body betrays you.” He nods down at your thighs that clench together and your hardened nipples that have begun to poke through the mesh fabric of your bra. “I guess you need some attention too,” he sighs. “I just can’t decide whether you really deserve my touch.”

He unhands you then, stepping away from you and leaving you feeling empty. The stinging sensation coming from your scalp and throat are all that remain of him. You feel like you’re burning up. There’s an all-consuming fire eating at your body and between your legs. You need him. You bend down to press your head to his shoes, your trembling hands grasping his pant legs. “Please, sir,” you beg. “Please touch me. You can’t leave me like this!”

An aloof chuckle leaves Nanami’s lips. “Oh, I can’t?” he asks. “I can’t let you walk out of here with that pussy gushing for me and that mascara running?” You desperately whimper and babble pleas for more, the aching of your sobbing, wet pussy too much to bare. Fortunately, it’s enough for Nanami to give in.

“Oh, alright,” he pitifully sighs, "but only because you look so oh-so pathetic. And you did such a good job sucking my cock just now. Stand up.” You immediately rise to your wobbly feet as soon as the order is uttered. Nanami gives you a hot stare as his hand trails up the front of your blouse. “Let’s get these fucking clothes off,” he growls impatiently. “Oh, and I almost forgot.”

Suddenly, his lips are on yours, rough and wanton. You moan into the kiss as his hot, wet tongue begins to explore yours, swirling around your mouth and tasting himself off of your tongue. His kiss is hungry and hard; not at all soft or romantic. He is desperate for you. Breathy groans and gasps leaves his lips as his hands begin to quickly unbutton each button to your pretty silk blouse. Soon, he becomes impatient and ends up tearing the thing off of you, resulting in a button flying off.

You gasp, pulling away from the sloppy kiss as he flings your top open to reveal your lacy black bra. “Sir!” you shout in protest. “Kento, please! You’ll ruin it!” He tears the rest of the top off of you, pulling it off of your arms and tossing it to the side like it didn’t cost you a pretty penny. Nanami rolls his eyes at your dramatics. “You can rest assure you’ll be receiving the money for new clothing…if you do a good job for me now, that is.”

As his lips and tongue find yours again, his veiny hands then begin to slide up and down your chest, fondling your breasts over your bra cups. You softly moan at his touch into his mouth, the tingling sensation you’re feeling between your thighs quickly growing. He pulls away from the kiss, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Mmm, such gorgeous breasts you have, darling,” he groans. “Too bad they belong to such a slutty brat.”

Without warning, he slides your bra straps down your shoulders and slides the bra cups down to reveal your breasts and hard, brown nipples, pebbled by the cold and your arousal. A crazed look crosses Nanami’s eyes before he ducks down to capture a nipple into his mouth. “Shit,” you gasp, your hands finding his hair. His tongue wraps around your nipple, lapping at the tiny bud as his hand works your other breast, fondling it.

Your mouth falls open and your eyes flutter closed at the new sensations you’re feeling. He then switches to the other, sucking and tugging on the nipple with his teeth, smirking at your sharp intake of breath. He alternates between each nipple, sucking, lapping, and licking at each like a hungered man desperate for water. With each torturous second, the tingling and ache in your cunt grow, making you go nearly insane. “A-Ah,” you moan. “K-Kento…fuck, sir, please!” You arch your back, pushing your breasts further into Nanami’s mouth.

He chuckles, pulling away from your nipple with a string of saliva dripping from his bottom lip. He looks up at you, his eyes shimmering with lust. “Getting worked up over having your nipples sucked? Such a sensitive little thing you are, Ms. L/N. Now bend over.” You blink at him, momentarily confused and still recovering from the foreplay. “W-What?” you nimbly ask.

Nanami gives you a stern look, a darkness coming over his gaze. “I didn’t stutter, brat,” he growls. “If I tell you to do something, you do it. How else will I be able to depend on you for this job?” He peels himself away from your naked breasts and nods at his desk. “Now bend over my desk now before I do it for you.” He then cracks one of his hands at his sides, the sound of his knuckle cracking making you gulp (and cream in your panties).

You do as he says and bend over his desk, being careful to not knock over his laptop, mug, or papers. You brace your hands against the oakwood surface, biting your lip when you feel Nanami’s presence behind you. You’re a wreck before he even touches you, but when he finally slides his hands up your skirt to grip your thighs, you’re shaking. His hands move all across your thighs and backside, gripping your ass over your skirt. “Damn this skirt,” he growls. “Damn this ass of yours. Apologies, darling, but I have to spank you. After all, you deserve punishment for such naughty behavior.”

He leans down toward you, his minty breath in your face and lips at your ear. “Do you want your punishment, slut?” he questions barely above a whisper. Pathetically, you nod, arching your back and presenting your ass to him. “Y-Yes, sir,” you reply. “Please punish me. Make me your good girl.”

That answer pleases Nanami. He slides your skirt up to reveal your ass––and the lace, black panties underneath your nylon stockings. “Brace yourself, darling; my hands are rough.”

Spank! The moment Nanami’s hand makes contact with your asscheek, you jump and gasp at the stinging sensation. His hands really are rough. Nanami chuckles at your reaction. “Yeah, you like that, naughty girl?” He does it again invoking a low, desperate moan from the deepest depths of you. Spank! “Y’know, I saw you staring at my hands earlier.”

Spank! “I bet all you thought about in that dumb little brain of yours is me bending you over and doing this to you.”

Spank! “I bet you want someone to come in and find us like this, your pretty ass bent over my desk.”

Spank! Spank! Spank!

He does this again and again, punishing your ass until it is stinging and possibly red with his handprints on each cheek. Though it hurts and brings tears to your eyes, it also makes you wetter. The pain mixed with your pleasure is one intoxicating cocktail that you can't get enough of. Soon, your pussy has a heartbeat and it throbs impatiently, ready for something to be inside of it.

“Sir, please!” you whine, gripping the desk for dear life. “I can’t take it anymore! I’m sorry for being such a brat!”

“Mmm-hmm,” Nanami hums, pleased with your confession. You feel him begin to yank at your stockings, pulling the waistband down your hips. “I bet that pussy is too,” he murmurs as he quickly pulls your stockings down your legs. He is rough and ends up putting a tear in one of them, but you’re way too horny to care. He then reaches your panties and pulls them down, groaning at the way your pussy lips stick to the cotton fabric. “And she is. Just look at how she’s crying for me.”

You can feel how wet you are judging by the way your pussy tingles in the cold. Nanami bends down and gently blows on it, causing you to tense and softly whimper at the tiny bit of contact. “Such a beautiful pussy you have,” he coos. “And all for me.” Before you can even take a breath, he is gently prying your asscheeks apart and spitting on your pussy before digging in and slurping his saliva back up.

As he does this, his tongue swirls along your clit and his pillowy-soft lips cushion your pussy, running along your slit as he plays with your cunt with his mouth. You gasp, moan, and sob into the desk, wanting to dig your nails into the oakwood with how good he is. He eats your pussy like it’s a profession of his, taking his time getting to know the ins and outs of you. He even slides his hand up to gently run his thumb over your puckered asshole while he tongue fucks you, groaning appreciatively at your taste.

Your toes curl inside your heels and your hands grasp to grab for something only to get polished wood beneath you. You’ve never gotten so close so quickly before. Usually, it takes a while for a man to get you even a mile from cumming, but not with Nanami. He moves his mouth and tongue with precision against your clit, moving between fast and slow depending on how your body reacts.

But when his thumb begins to caress your asshole, you just about lose it. “Oh, God,” you sob, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. “Kento, just fuck me. I need you to fuck me!”

Then…nothing. The feeling of your nearing orgasm fades. Nanami stops eating you out immediately and you’re left wondering what happened. His hand suddenly finds your hair and roughly yanks it back, causing you to release a strangled gasp. It hurts way more than earlier, his grip tight and merciless.

He bends his face down to meet yours, his eyes dark and almost frightening. “You don't tell me what the fuck to do, brat,” he growls. “I decide what to do to your body. Me. Understand?”

His grip tightens more and the stinging in your scalp of your braids being yanked nearly makes you see God early. “Yes!” you sob. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry! This pussy just needs you so bad!” Finally, he loosens his grip and releases your hair, emitting a weak moan of pain from you.

“Alright, brat,” he cooly says. “I’ll fuck you…but we’ll do it my way. Put your hands behind your back, wrists crossed.”

You do as you’re told, putting your hands behind your back and crossing them over one another. You then feel Nanami’s funny-looking tie wrap around your wrists, tightening them and securing them behind your back.

You softly gasp at the sensations of being restricted to which Nanami pauses. “Good?” he asks. You nod and he proceeds to continue to tie your wrists until he is finally satisfied. “There we go,” he proudly says. “Now you can’t squirm or make a fuss when I plunge my cock deep inside of you.”

And you can’t. Your arms are completely restricted from movement, as is the rest of you as you stand between the desk and Nanami mounted behind you. He ruts his hips against your ass for a few minutes, sliding his cock between your slit and over your throbbing clit, relishing the sounds you make as you lay splayed out against his desk.

“Here I come, baby,” he whispers before sliding all the way home inside you. You gasp in unison as his thick cock stretches out your wet pussy walls, filling you up the way you’ve been waiting for.

He starts slow at first, grabbing your hips and slowly rolling his hips so you can get used to his length and girth. Your hand flies to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans. Nanami doesn’t like that. He tears your hand away from your face, pinning it back down on the desk. “My walls are soundproof,” he grunts. “You have no need to worry. Come on, baby; give me those slutty sounds I know you can make.”

He begins to fuck you harder against the desk, one hand gripping your hip while the other lays flat on the middle of your back, keeping you pressed flat against the oakwood surface. As soon as he hits that spot inside you, you can’t keep quiet. You begin wailing in pleasure, overcome with the feeling he is giving you. “O-Oh, fuck!” you gasp. “Fuck, sir!”

Nanami draws more of these moans and wails of pleasure out of you the more he fucks you until he is pounding your pussy against the desk. “God, you’re so tight!” he groans. “You’re much better than the fleshlight I keep under my desk. You’d be a much better addition to my office for stress.” He gives your ass a smack before lifting your leg up and fucking into you at a faster pace that is making you see the entire galaxy.

“Take it,” he demands. “Take this cock. You wanted it so bad and now you’ve got it.” Yes, you do have it…but you don’t know if you can take it. Every rough thrust of his cock sends you into orbit. It shakes the desk with you bent over it, making your titties bounce against the surface and your ass jiggle against his hips. “Wait, sir!” you plea. “Go slow! Can’t…handle…it!” Your words are broken by the force of how hard he is fucking you, taking you very breath away.

Nanami cackles like a villain straight out of a Disney movie as he looks over your plump ass pressed against him, his cock nestled deep in your ushy, gushy pussy. “Ohhh, is this cock too much for that poor pussy?” he teasingly asks. “Is it too big and thick for that slutty little hole to take? I believe I missed the part where I gave a fuck.”

He continues to turn you all the way out, making the desk rock and causing his balls to swing against your clit, throwing you deeper into pleasure. “This is what you get for being a brat,” he grunts. “This is what you get for disobeying me. What you get for wearing that skirt and those heels. This is what–“

Rrrring! Rrrring!

Nanami doesn’t slow his pace or stop his rough fucking into your cunt despite his work phone ringing. You weakly look up at the black telephone sitting by his laptop. “This is a call from Satoru Gojo,” the automated voice announces from the phone.

“Shit!” Nanami hisses. He bends down toward you then, his nose nearly centimeters from yours. “I’ve gotta take this, but don’t you dare say a single thing. Don’t make a sound.”

You weakly nod, covering your mouth as he goes to pick up the phone. After a moment of composing himself, he clears his throat and answers. “Yes, Satoru?” he asks, keeping his voice steady and cool as if he isn’t fucking your brains out over his desk. “This had better be important. I’m busy at the moment.”

“You’re always busy!” Gojo shouts into the phone, causing Nanami to flinch. “It’s what you always say when I ask for you to come out with me on the weekends…which you never do!”

Nanami sighs and you picture him rolling his eyes from behind you as he grips one of your asscheeks, no doubt leaving bruises. “That’s because all you do is hang out at clubs to fuck strangers and drink yourself into a stupor.”

“Yeah!” Gojo agrees. “And it’s fun! You ever heard of that before? Fun? You ever try it? I think it’d do you good one of these days to have it some time, Keni.”

This “Satoru” guy must really work Nanami’s nerves because you can feel the tension radiating off of him. He finds your hair and he grips it, continuing to pound into you at a faster pace than before. “What do you want?” He asks, becoming impatient. He yanks on your hair a little too rough and you whimper from behind your hand, your body tensing. Nanami quickly loosens his grip, looking down upon you with worry. ”Too rough?” he whispers.

You look back at him and shake your head though your scalp burns. But you want it to burn. You want to take every single of ounce of pain and pleasure he gives you. “No,” you whisper. “I’m okay.” You begin to fuck back into him, tossing your ass back to fuck his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure. “Fuck me harder, sir,” you purr. “Take your stress out on this pussy. Make this little slut yours.”

Nanami’s eyes widen like he can’t believe you’re really real. “Fucking hell,” he whispers. Suddenly realizing he’s still on the phone, he puts the phone back to his ear while he roughly pins you back down to the desk. “Sorry, what?” he questions.

“I was telling you about the meeting we’re supposed to have at the end of the week,” Gojo repeats. “Were you listening to me at all?” You groan as Nanami’s cock sinks deeper inside you and your hand finds your slit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Sorry, I got…distracted.” You giggle behind your hand. “Is this about the brand deal with the Human Rights Campaign? I told them we get 50% of proceeds.”

“Not just them, but the New York Times too!” Gojo excitedly states. “I pulled some strings for us, man! They want to do a story on both of our departments! Say, ain’t it weird that we’re both a part of the same company but my department is all the way in the fucking US?”

Nanami rails you harder; deeper; faster. Pushing you further and further towards an explosive orgasm. “Gojo, I told you already,” he grunts. “You’re part of the American branch while I’m part of–“

His words are quickly interrupted by a sharp gasp when you begin tossing your ass back into him, looking back at him as you do it. He glares down at you like he is one second away from ruining you. “You fucking brat,” he snarls. “You’re gonna get it later.”

“Who’s gonna get it later?” Gojo asks curiously. “Nanami, you good? You’re acting kinda off. Are you with somebody right now?” Your heart lurches into your throat, but your pussy also clenches at the idea of being caught. “No,” Nanami sharply replies, yanking on your hair. “No, it was just a bug I saw. Listen, I’ve gotta go.”

You thank God for that because you don’t think you can keep quiet anymore. You have to clamp your hand over your mouth and bite your palm to keep from screaming at the deep dicking you’re receiving. “So we’re on meeting both HRC and NYT on Friday?” Gojo asks. “It starts at 1PM to about 3, but I’ll be bringing wine along so that might turn into about 5.”

“Yes, yes, that’s fine,” Nanami impatiently huffs. “Just keep me informed.” Without a goodbye, he hangs up and tosses the phone on the ground. “Now back to you,” he growls. He takes your hips and pounds into you with the force of a thousand men, wrecking you on his cock. “Don’t run from it now, brat. You were so desperate to fuck yourself on it minutes before.”

Your tits swing beneath you and your ass claps against him every time he thrusts, creating a symphony of sounds mingling with your desperate whines and the squelching of your wet pussy being fucked by his cock. You can’t take it anymore. Your body is wet with sweat and your knees are buckling, tired from this and desperate for rest, just as your pussy is desperate to cum. “K-Kento!” you whine. “Keni, I’m so close! I need to cum!”

And like an asshole, Nanami slows down, purposely rolling his hips in a way that is agonizing given that he isn’t moving any quicker. “Prove it,” he demands. “Make me make you cum. Beg for it, brat.”

The slower he gets, the crazier you become until you’re pleading for him to just make you cum. “Please make me cum, sir,” you sob in desperation. “Make me cream all over your cock! Please, I need it! Your little brat needs to cum on that dick and have you fill her up.”

You turn to face him, peering up at him through thick lashes and big, brown eyes that have Nanami wanting to nut all over you just so everyone can know you are his now. “Please, Keni,” you whisper. “Gimme that dick. Gimme that cum. Your little office sluts needs it so much.”

That does it for Nanami. He speeds up immediately, pounding your wet pussy into his desk until neither one of you are quiet and both of you are soon tumbling over the edge. “Fuck!” he groans. “I’m gonna cum! I can’t stop!”

Your moans are signs of encouragement to cum deep inside of you and he does so. With a primal grunt of your first name, he pours his cum inside of your aching, twitching pussy. You cum right with him, your walls gripping onto him tighter than a vice as your body tenses. With a loud moan, you cum all over his dick, making his balls drip with your cream because there is so much of it. You can feel him drip down your thighs, staining your pretty nylon stockings. You can’t even recover from the orgasm yet. Nanami quickly pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, emitting a weak moan from the emptiness you feel.

“Not done yet,” he snarls. He pumps his cock, wet with your and his cum, hard and fast, his handsome face red with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Turn the fuck around and show me that face. Stick out your tongue.” You do as he says, though wobbly and soaked with sweat and cum.

You get on your knees and look up at him, admiring his God-like body. You then open your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue, hot, needy pants leaving your lips the more he pumps his cock against your lips. “Gonna paint this pretty face,” he moans. “Gonna make you wish you listened to me.”

You watch his toned body tense and writhe as he finally cums again, shooting ropes of cum into your mouth and onto your face, destroying your makeup. You gasp as each warm drop hits your skin, coating you in all of his sticky nut. You feel used. Owned.

Nanami staggers away from you, panting heavily, his toned body soaked in sweat. He swipes his blonde strands from his flushed forehead, still coming down from his high. He then looks down at you with his cum dripping down your face, your pretty interview outfit ruined, and your braids askew. “Consider yourself hired,” he says, a rasp in his voice.

You giggle at his words despite his cum beginning to drip over your eyes. You shut them, not wanting to go blind. “Shit, I needed that,” Nanami sighs. You weakly moan, bringing him back to reality. “Shit, hang on a sec,” he says, panicking slightly as the cum begins to drip lower and lower down to your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” You hear him walk around you to his desk before returning with some tissues.

He carefully dabs at your face, cleaning you up. “Sorry about your makeup, honey,” he says. “It’s all over these tissues now.” He goes down to your chest, cleaning between your breasts and neck. Finally, he finishes. “There now. All clean.” You open your eyes to stare into his, feeling like you’re wandering through a deep, wild wilderness in those green orbs. “Let’s get these off of you,” he says, moving behind you to untie your wrists.

When you’re finally free, you twist your wrists around and wiggle your fingers, getting the blood flowing back through your bones. “So how do you feel?” he softly asks. You take a moment to assess yourself. Though your body aches, your throat is raw, and your pussy is feeling sore, you feel oh-so good. It’s so hard to explain. To be used up by him has made you feel better than you have in months. “I-I feel…good,” you decide. “Better than good. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. Thank God for your soundproof walls.”

A slight blush paints Nanami’s face. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s so endearing and makes you wanna make him cum over and over again. “So I did okay?” he sheepishly asks.

You wrap your arms around him, “Baby, you did more than okay,” you giggle, pecking his lips. “But you always do…but I’d be lying if I said that seeing your Dom side isn’t a turn-on.” Nanami beams at you, happy that he could make your dreams come true. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he chuckles. “We’ll have to make these lunch visits more of a frequent thing for us. Including the role-play.”

You giggle in agreement and take his hands, allowing him to help you stand on your wobbly feet and weak knees. He then begins to fix his pants and adjust himself, putting his cock back in his briefs while you pull up your panties over your twitching, soaked pussy. “Oh, which reminds me!” you chirp. “The sandwich rolls are still downstairs in the employee fridge. I left them there in case our meeting got, um…lengthy.”

Nanami smirks and curls his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Such a smart and sexy girl I’ve got,” he coos. “How was I so lucky to end up with you?” You place your hands on his bare chest, feeling his heart beat against your palms. “Guess it was just fate,” you reply, hopelessly in love with the man standing before you. Nanami smiles, silently agreeing with your statement.

You then part and continue to get dressed, adjusting your clothes as to not make any of the employees aware that you two fucked in their boss’s office just now. “And you’re sure that Maki and Mai don’t suspect a thing?” you curiously ask as you fix your blouse, pouting at the two buttons that popped off.

Nanami looks at you as he fixes his button-up, only fixing the first button before moving toward you. “No one knows I’m even dating anyone, Y/N,” he assures you with a kiss to your jawline. “I barely tell my team anything about what goes on outside this building. Don’t worry, no one knows that we’re–“

“Fucking!” Mai screams from outside the door, scaring the shit out of you. “They’re totally fucking, Maki! I told you!”

“Mai, get away from the door!” Maki criticizes her sister. “That’s an invasion of privacy!”

You turn to Nanami and beg him with your eyes to kill you if you don’t die of embarrassment first. He takes one look at the door before turning to you, his hands on his narrow hips. “Well, guess I’ll be looking for another assistant,” he sighs. “And a soundproofed door.”

THE END.

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